Halloween Magic
Tada! Jade Eclipse has come out with another of her pointless babblings that she calls a story. Enjoy. This one's written (quite obviously, if I do say so myself) just for Halloween.
Summary: A Halloween story from a Muggle perspective.
Rating: G.
Characters: Uh... Most of the characters in this are my own creations. Keep an eye out for Pettigrew.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Happy Halloween!!!!!!!!!
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Each and every Halloween, Christa dressed up as a witch. Granted, the first few years she hadn't been offered a choice, and her father had merely plopped a pointed hat on her head at her first few Halloweens, but ever since she had been able to decide she had dressed up as a witch. And not those hideous witches with the green faces like the one from The Wizard of Oz, either. She wouldn't let anyone paint her face green. She insisted on being a pretty witch.
This Halloween was no different. She had on the black witches costume that her mother, Annabelle, had sewn for her, and the wide-brimmed, pointed black hat that wouldn't stay straight unless Annabelle stuffed the top with newspaper.
It was getting late that Halloween, and Christa's plastic black cauldron was brimming with treats. She was tired, her tiny feet were sore, and as much candy as she had consumed, the five-year-old was beginning to get worn out. She had taken great delight in muttering nonsense and pointing her 'wand' at random people, but the paper star that had been taped on the end had fallen off.
"It's broken!" she cried. "I can't do magic now!"
"Oh, honey," Annabelle said, "of course it can still do magic."
Christa shook her head stubbornly. "Nope. Once it's broken, I need a replacement. Only certain people can make wands, you know." She waved the magic-less stick forlornly.
"Here, let me make sure it's actually broken." The young girl nodded and gave her mother the wand. Annabelle looked at it with consideration, studying the marks and lines in the grain of the wood. Finally, she ran her finger over the edge. She stood, raised both arms, and said, in her most powerful voice, "Abracadabra!"
The man in the dark cloak walking nearby jerked in surprise, reaching in his pocket for the stick that resided there. His watery eyes were wide and alarmed, but when he saw Christa and Annabelle and no other cloaked figures (particularly dark-haired Animagi who would be seeking revenge in a few hour's time), he relaxed. Still shaken, he continued on his way, berating himself for being so jumpy. No one could have found out about his betrayal, not yet, at least... And by then, his master would be so powerful that no one would dare oppose him- he would be the Dark Lord's right hand man.
But of all the curses that had to find its way into Muggle mythology, why did it have to be that one?
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On the morning of November 1st, Annabelle woke up far earlier than normal. She made some tea and turned on the early news. Her ears were instantly flooded with stories of gas explosions, thirteen people dead, and events involving the Potter's house in a place not so far from where they lived.
For some reason, the stories just didn't follow. Something was wrong. She sat down, suddenly convinced that dark matters were afoot and she was being lied to- she had the impression that she and Christa and nearly everyone she knew had been in danger for the longest time and no one had bothered to inform them of it.
Christa's wand was still lying on the table. She had it in her hand before she thought about it, sinking back into the soft chair nearby. "Abracadabra," she whispered, over and over again, as if that somehow was the answer to all of this. As if somehow, all she needed was magic to understand the secret being kept from her.
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Happy Halloween.