Written For: Quidditch League, Season 11, Round 1. Write about something old that holds great meaning or value.
Position: Kenmare Kestrels Seeker!
Word Count (baring this): 2526
Warnings/AN: The characters in this are my own, and besides Eileen and Severus, are all created simply for this story. They do not exist (to my knowledge) in the cannon HP universe.
As always, enjoy!
It was dark outside, and few people were bustling around in the damp city air. Rushed feet clattered on stone as people walked briskly back to their warm homes, sending fond (and sometimes annoyed) looks at the carefree children running around catching sporadic raindrops on their tongues. Clarence was an older man, but he was one of great stature. Like his father before him, Clarence was the head of the Prince house, an old but respected family in their local area. Everyone knew of the old Prince Lord (he was fifty-nine, that wasn't old in the slightest!) who had married the young Florence girl from the next town over. The people had talked, of course, but Clarence shut them up.
He always shut them up.
He continued looking around the shop, eyes spanning over broken items he had seen countless times over and over again. It was the same thing almost every day, but as Florence wallowed away in their home, Clarence had begun to get a little bored. Florence's pregnancy was taking a toll on him as well; he couldn't handle her constant tears and blabbering. It was pathetic if you asked him, but he had no say. He was just meant to sit idly by as his wife as she wasted away in his home, or at least that's what his father had told him on their wedding day.
Truthfully, it was Clarence's fault. He married a woman much younger than himself and one who was far more emotional than he had once observed. Women hide themselves until the moment they realise they have snared you, and then they let the annoying side of them free.
He had fallen for the same trap many times over again: Attraction, addiction, apprehension, and absconding. Now, however, he finally had a reason to stay. He needed a son.
Merlin help him if Florence gives birth to a girl.
The pitter-patter of rain outside the shop window gradually grew louder- until loud pops sounded every second. It was like someone was casting a trail of curses at the poor windows! They'd survive the heavy rain, just as the glass did every other storm. Materials reinforced by magic were always the strongest.
As he walked deeper into the shop and away from the rackety glass, his surroundings slowly calmed, and a soft ticking noise filled his ears. Tick, tick, tick. It wasn't odd; many objects in this little shop would tick and chime randomly, startling young visitors and anyone else in passing. But this sound was different. It was constant yet quiet. A lesser man wouldn't have been able to hear it. Tick, tick, tick.
Clarence followed it. Tick, tick, tick. No matter what direction he wandered, the sound never got louder. Tick, tick, tick. He started looking inside objects, opening little containers, boxes, and everything in between. Tick, tick, tick.
His hand brushed something metal, his fingers enclosing around the circular object, holding it tight. His blood thumped quickly in the palm of his hand. Tick, tick, tick.
With a silent wave of his wand, Clarence silenced the ticking object, pulling it out of the old box it was stuffed in and taking a good look at it. It had a solid silver casing and intricate designs wrapped around it, grazing the sides of the crystal dome protecting the clock beneath it. A 3 pronged shape rested on the silver cover, a robe-like image flowing beneath it, stretching into long flowing strands of engravement.
It was quite pretty, even Clarence could see that. Maybe if he gave it to Florence-
Well, for some reason he didn't want to give it to the woman. No, he'd keep it for himself this time, a little treat for all of the stress he had been put through this week!
Clarence dropped two galleons at the front of the store, not seeing nor caring where the shopkeeper was, and walked out of the door. The pocket watch was tucked deeply into his robes, protecting it from the heavy rain that beat against him. He turned down an alleyway and disapparated on the spot. The watch glowed softly from beneath his clothes.
Finley was a quiet boy who was turned into a quiet man. He much preferred his books over the parties his mother threw or the multitude of dinner dates his father would set him up in. None of them worked out anyway. He wasn't the most powerful wizard; nothing like his father who could duel ten men at once, or his mother whose charms brought happiness far and wide. He was just a man that liked to read. Simple as that. Many of his well-wishers and foes all thought he was a squib. He had grown accustomed to the quietness of it all.
That was, until tonight. Another ball forced upon him to find him a wife.
"Son, I grow more grey every minute you take to get dressed," his mother teased him, standing in his doorway with a small smile. "My beautiful boy, look at you!"
Mother had always doted on him. Finley enjoyed it; she was much softer with him than his father.
"Thank you, mother. You are as beautiful as always."
"Save the compliments for the girls tonight, Fin." His mother told him. "Oh, but before that, your father is requesting you."
His mother brought him through their decorated hallways, walking with an esteemed grace and dignity Finley knew he lacked. Although it was excused, he was a man after all, Finley envied his mother and her proper 'ability'. Even when Father raged, she was able to sit there with a steady smile on her lips, arguing back with soft sighs and "Darling".
"Finley, come." His father called him in as they walked into the office room, the man standing by a small cabinet. He looked sad, remorseful even.
What had he done?
"Yes, father?" Finley asked, stepping as close as he dared. Just to be safe. His father's tirades tended to have a lot of flying spit involved.
"I grow old, son. I wish to give you a gift, a token of my... fancy if you will."
"Father?" The hair on the back of Finley's neck stood straight up as if it was trying to reach the ceiling. His father reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small chain accompanied by a silver disk.
"A pocket watch I found almost twenty years ago. I have kept it in its prime era with the use of magic. It is yours if you can keep up the same care. It shouldn't be hard, even with your lacking ability."
Finley winced at his words, teeth grinding. There was the blow. His father just rolled his eyes.
"Honestly, Finley, I cannot fathom how you are so meek, especially with your mother being who she is-"
"Clarence." His mother's voice cut through his father's words. Finley turned to look at her as she gave him a comforting smile and a hand on his cheek.
"Finley, darling, go. The music has begun." Finley nodded, leaving the room without a glance back, the door closing swiftly behind him. Unbeknownst to him, the watch glowed in its glass case. Right, time to ignore everyone.
Many songs played as Finley stayed near the back of the room, ladies passing in frilly dresses and bright colours. Many wore the same green, or at least similar. Finley didn't have an eye for those kinds of things.
It wasn't that Finley didn't care about his looks, he did! After his mother had to basically force him into taking care of himself, he learned to enjoy dressing up. He just didn't like going anywhere.
Finley looked exactly like his father, sharing only some of his mother's features, that being her soot-coloured hair. For as long as he can remember, his mother had doted on his hair, having had a slight bounce to it due to his father's curls. It made for quite the combination; his icy blue eyes and his black hair. Or at least Mother said so.
Finley didn't know. He loved his mother's dark eyes.
A shatter sounded across the ballroom, diverting Finley's attention away from his palm as he turned to see what happened.
Soft chuckles and giggles sounded out around the room as Finley focused in on a blonde woman, the bottom of her dress drenched in what looked to be wine. It didn't look bad mixed in with her pale pink dress, but it didn't belong there.
Taking a deep breath, Finley took a step forward, then another, and another, until he was right in front of the blonde woman.
"Are you alright?" He asked quietly, hand extended."
"No." She said pointedly, looking around her. "No, I am- oh... hi!" Her cheeks were dusted pink. "You're very handsome."
It was Finley's turn to flush pink. He forced his hand to remain stiff as he glanced around. No one had ever complimented him besides his mother. How was he supposed to do this?
"You as well, madame. I am Finley Alaric Prince, Heir to the"
"Yeah, I'm Elizabeth Brute."
"Elizabeth?"
"Yes, that's what I just said."
A shocked laugh made its way from his mouth as he helped her up, the girl wincing as she stood up on her ankle.
"Finley?" His mother asked as she approached them. "Are you alright?"
And so the new pair described what had happened on equal terms, his mother waving her wand and vanishing the mess around them. The party continued, Elizabeth and FInley making soft conversation with each other until the party ended.
"You'll write, right?" She asked, playing with a strand of her hair.
"I will." He told her, giving her a soft, albeit awkward smile. The day ended well, and Finley was honestly excited to draft his first letter to the woman.
Until the next morning, that is, when they found Lord Clarence Emrys Prince dead in his bed.
William hadn't meant to get Catherine pregnant, he truly didn't, but she was a feisty woman and amazing in bed, he just couldn't say no! It wasn't his fault she was such a temptress!
"It is your fault because you should have said no!" His mother told him, his father pacing around the kitchen.
"I have it! William, you will marry Miss Miller."
"What? No! I barely even know her, I don't want to marry her!" William protested, standing up from his chair, brown eyes widening.
"William, when I gave you that watch, you swore to me you were going to act as the next Lord of this household-"
"You and this stupid watch!" William told him, rolling his eyes as his father walked closer to him. Yeah right, the man wouldn't lay a hand on him! His father was a pushover. "You're obsessed with it!"
"Then give it back."
"W-what?" William asked, hand going to his pants pocket where the watch lay.
"If you truly think this watch is stupid, and that I am 'obsessed' with it, give it back."
"What? No!" William exclaimed, taking a step back. He would have rather been hit. He had seen his father admiring that silver pocket watch for years now, staring at it for hours a day when the man should have been working. Willaim had begun to fall for its trap as well. As a child, he would watch it spin on its silver chain, the engraving seeming to change colours as shadows washed over it, only for it to return to normal once more. Even now, he still laid in bed to watch it turn, holding it above his face as it lulled him to sleep.
"Then you will live up to it, just as I have," Finley told his son, grasping him by the shoulders. "You will do this woman right, Marry her, provide for her and your son, be a good father, or so help me I'll-"
"Finley," His mother spoke out, grabbing his father by the shoulder. "Don't say something you'll regret, that isn't like you."
"Do right by this witch, William," Finley told him, nodding once and leaving the room in hurried steps. The watch heated up softly in his pocket, but William paid it no mind.
He would do so, William swore to himself. Even if it was just to never see that look on his face again.
And then Catherine gave birth to a girl.
"Mama, Papa, I want you to meet Tobias!" Eileen said, grinning from ear to ear as she pulled her parents into the foyer of their large house. There stood a man with straight brown hair and eyes, a suit hanging awkwardly off his body, and a bouquet of flowers.
"Is he that boy from your house?" Her mother asked. "Although I thought his name was Tom."
"No, mama, that's Riddle. Who knows what he's up to, but he doesn't matter. Tobias isn't like him."
"What is he like then?" William regarded his daughter, his aloof attitude beginning to fall as he took an interest. Eileen had certainly sung Tom's praises, so who was this fellow.
"Well, he's shorter, a bit more solid too, oh and he's a muggle-"
"He's a what?"
Eileen ran away that night, packing a bag of important belongings and clothes. She crept through the house, grabbing anything she could, even the pocket watch by the table. She slipped it into her bag, not paying attention when it was illuminated by a soft blue light. The next thing she threw in there was her wand, which she would need to hide from her future husband. Only for a while, until they were officially married.
A tear rolled silently down her face as she left the house, walking through the gardens until she was at the edge.
"Tobias!" She called out, the man turning the corner.
"Eileen!" Tobias said, grinning. "Are you ready to go?"
Eileen turned around, taking one last look at her house. No, her old house. She and Tobias would have a better life from now on, away from their prejudiced values.
"I am."
Severus looked at the watch in his hands, memories flooding into and out of his mind. So this was why his mother had kept the watch for so damn long? She could have sold it for a pretty knut, and yet she had kept it.
Severus dangled the watch in front of his eyes, watching the silver container spin and turn.
This had been in his family for such a long time, and even after his grandparents had thrown her out, his mother had kept it.
It was stupid. Good for him, then, because he wanted nothing to do with it.
Severus let the watch fall as he exited his old childhood home. All of them, all of it, was useless to him now.
As he left, the pocket watch began to glow. Suddenly, a loud pop! The insides of it flew around, hitting concrete floors and empty walls.
And still, as the watch lay broken and silver on the floor, it began to tick. Something it hadn't done for over a century.
Tick, tick, tick.