Chapter 2
Don't Stop
otherwise known as
"Clockwork Carnage"
The boy kept tapping his foot like a rabbit that night. His bushy hair already ruined by the strong winds outside, it seemed like it couldn't possibly get any worse. He wouldn't have to wait too long either, since "Brancher" starts with a B and the older witch already passed through all the A kids. It was as follows: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw. Not a bad average. Of course he wanted to be in Gryffindor like dad was. Always brave and always with a fun quip up his sleeve. That's obviously what any eleven-year-old would look up to. He didn't admit it then but, it also felt like being assigned Gryffindor would somehow keep dad's memory alive.
"David Brancher.", the old hag finally spoke. He would later come to know her as Professor McGonagall, though that night he only called her that, old hag. As David adjusted his cloak like an owl, he proceeded to walk up the set of wooden stairs, a million thoughts rushing through the skull hidden under a thick coat of curls. If not Gryffindor, then at least Ravenclaw. It's where Mabel is. At least that way he wouldn't be completely alone in his own house. "Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.", the boy would mumble to himself until the very moment his behind was placed on the short stool and the creepy, leathery hat carrying a toad-like mouth was placed on his head. David took a breath and-
"Hufflepuff.", it spitefully proclaimed, shattering all of David's wants and dreams and hopes. He remembers his sister's disappointed look that spoke some form of compassion. And he remembers the curious set of turquois eyes that closely followed him down the Hufflepuff table.
Sometime in the 80s...
A fresh breeze of air blows in from the half-opened window. Or, half-closed, according to David. He has been up for half an hour already, his sleep plagued by uncomfortable dreams that saw him being chased by a weird monster with glowing, yellow eyes, dashing through Hogwarts castle in the midst of a raging storm. It was dreadful. Though the real dread came from mum once again breaking her promise, third year in a row.
A muffled sound goes unheard as Fleetwood Mac blasts both of his ears, his Walkman providing him with the goodness of his custom-made mixtape of all of their greatest hits, property of his dad. Through this self-inflicted audio damage, whatever Mabel is screaming at the door is neither heard nor seen.
It is the penetratingly loud buzzing of his red alarm clock that shocks him into a frenzy, making him jolt up and hit his head on the slanted part of the ceiling.
Bonk!
DAVID (in pain): OW!
His earphones falling off, Mabel is finally perceptible by her younger brother.
MABEL: Would you mind turning that bloody thing off?!
Shot like an arrow, David finally readjusts his vertigo and presses the little mechanism on top of the troublemaker, causing the ringing to subside indefinitely.
MABEL: Thank you.
With crossed arms, Mabel walks over to his window, closing it rather swiftly, her curly, brown hair flapping in the brief vortex created by the process.
MABEL: It's freezing in here. You're going to catch a cold, David.
Her brother turns off his music device, scratching a part of his chest beneath the oversized Bruce Springsteen shirt.
DAVID: At least my room isn't an amphibious wildlife resort...
MABEL: That's not fair – I have a toad! I have to keep it warm in there for Jimmy Carter, or else he'll go into hibernation.
DAVID: Doesn't mean you have to keep it humid in there.
MABEL: It does mean precisely that. Now-
DAVID: Oh, did I say humid? I meant smelly.
Right after he cackles at his own remark.
MABEL: You little shi-
LOIS: Kids?
Their bickering about to turn physical, both children turn to find their mother in the doorway, scarf and coat already on her person.
MABEL: Mum. That's right.
She turns to David.
MABEL: Mum's leaving. It's what I was trying to tell you.
DAVID: Emphasis on "trying".
A kick in the shin later David finally gets up from his bed, Mabel already wrapping her arms around their happy mother. Interestingly, Lois is the only Brancher with completely straight hair, Mabel having inherited a blend of this and their father's wild locks, while David's copper coloured mess took most after Donovan.
LOIS: Ah, look at you two. Fifth and third year at Hogwarts. Time flies by so fast.
DAVID: "Time" is also Mabel's nickname on the Quidditch team.
MABEL: Ha-ha...
LOIS: Clever one, David.
Surprisingly, mum never minds the sarcastic remarks, even when they insult her or Mabel. Much like his father, his mother always knows how to carry a smile.
DAVID: I try my best.
Lois scoffs quietly.
LOIS: You always do. Now, come here.
Their hug lasts a few seconds longer and serves a warm contrast to his chilly room.
LOIS: Sorry I couldn't take you two to King's Cross this year. I promise I'll manage at least once.
MABEL: They need you at the office, we understand.
By which she means "I understand, and David will continue to sulk in the corner."
LOIS: Alright then. I'll go visit your father later. Bring him some flowers.
MABEL: Bye mum!
DAVID: Bye.
LOIS: Goodbye you two! Have a splendid time at Hogwarts!
That's the last exchange that takes place before the door to their flat is closed. An eerie silence creeps across the floor like carboniferous mist.
DAVID: Back to the smelly room thing-
MABEL: Stop screwing around David, we need to get ready for school.
She promptly grabs his Walkman as he picks up his red alarm clock, the item vibrating ever so slightly in his hands.
DAVID: You know, it's rude of you to call Steve just "a thing". It's a living creature, you know?
MABEL (while fiddling with his boombox): And endangered, which is the only reason I'm letting you keep that pixie.
He scoffs loudly in protest.
DAVID: As if you could take him away from me...
MABEL: I could report it to the Ministry. Unlawful possession of an unregistered pet?
Her brows bounce up as she leans with a sassy pose on his dresser, the boy hugging his alarm clock comically as Steve makes a brief ringing sound, imitating an insect's chirp.
MABEL: But why would I do that now?
DAVID: I don't know. Maybe cause my magic pet is much cooler than Jimmy Carter?
MABEL: Don't disrespect Jimmy Carter like that. He is an amazing toad and an amazing former US President.
Click!
"Don't Stop" by Fleetwood Mac starts blasting from the stereo.
DAVID: When did you take my-
MABEL: Come on Lil' Bro. I need to motivate you somehow to get ready.
Despite all their constant fighting, Mabel does manage to cast a warm smile at her sibling as she leaves his room. The song gains some speed as David shakes his head, grabbing the wand stashed under his bed.
MABEL (from outside): And don't use magic for packing again!
DAVID (to himself): Bollocks!
DAVID BRANCHER and the BOOK OF SPELLS
inspired by the Harry Potter Series
written by Carrotine Clara
After a short montage of getting ready in the morning, packing for school, and checking for any chest hair (with some success!), David finally seats himself across his sister on the relatively tiny dining table, their kitchen/dining area/living room also possessing a slanted ceiling, giving the flat as a whole the vibe of a three-headed family camping out in someone's attic. How the Branchers managed the whole thing back before... never mind.
MABEL: I made waffles.
As if to prove her legitimacy, she places the plate of warm goodness in the centre of their table, David's face forming a grimace.
DAVID: What are you? From Illinois?
With a frown she takes a seat, ignoring her brother with the Daily Prophet in her hand.
MABEL: Just thought I'd mix it up a bit. Give you something nice since you're bumped out about mum again.
DAVID (while putting butter on his toast): I'm not bumped out.
MABEL: You are.
DAVID: I'm not.
MABEL: Totally are.
DAVID: No.
MABEL: Yes.
DAVID: No.
MABEL: Yes.
DAVID: No.
MABEL (folding the newspaper): Yes.
DAVID: No.
Having defeated her in the marketplace of ideas, Mabel officially surrenders, her eyes scanning the paper as she starts cutting up one of her waffles. Just as David takes a hearty crunch from his breakfast toast, Mabel's expression shifts to a weird mix between surprise and joy.
DAVID (with a full mouth): What?
MABEL: Do you remember sending in those letters during summer break? The ones where we would fill out some personal questions and such for a survey?
The boy crudely swallows both meal and statement.
DAVID: The one you forced me to partake in? Yes, I remember. Why?
MABEL: Well...
She flips the newspaper and allows David to see for himself.
DAVID: Oh, would you look at that. They printed some.
Quietly, he scans the page pertaining "Name, Age, Place of residence" and so on.
DAVID: Anyone here I should know?
MABEL: Since your social memory is on par with a goldfish, I'd say no. Oh wait...
Her short-nailed index obnoxiously points at one of the character sheets.
MABEL: You should know Cathie.
Her face involuntarily forms a bright smile at the mention of the girl.
DAVID: Who?
MABEL: Cathie Torrance? She's a Hufflepuff.
DAVID: Ah. Well then I definitely don't know her.
He begins to read her profile as Mabel rolls her eyes.
DAVID: Oh wait no, I remember now. She's the rich snobby girl, right?
Mabel reacts with an almost comical scoff.
MABEL: No? She's not... snobbish.
DAVID: "Our family specializes in breeding Hippogriff for sport, mine is called Fantasia" – no, that's definitely her.
MABEL: You're being ridiculous...
Angered for some reason, she begins to cut down her waffle as David performs a miracle – flipping the newspaper page.
DAVID: Look, there's a part two.
With a stuffed mouth, Mabel looks back at David scanning the second set of character sheets.
DAVID: Oh, today is my lucky day...
The girl swallows nervously.
MABEL: What? They print yours?
DAVID: "Mabel Aimee Brancher..."
Mabel's face briefly loses all of its colour.
DAVID: "I have a crush on someone that goes to Ancient Runes class with me."
He looks back at his sister with a curious expression.
DAVID: Don't you go to Ancient Ruins with Cathie?
In a frantic fury his sister snaps the Daily Prophet back into her own possession, making David smirk just ever so slightly for having upset her once more.
MABEL (mumbling angrily): And I thought you don't remember that sort of stuff...
DAVID: What? Do you actually have a crush on Cathie?
MABEL (nervous): What? No. Don't be silly...
For once the boy decides not to dig any further and leave Mabel with that for now. Oh, how he will regret it a moment later.
MABEL: Speaking of crushes though...
She hands him the paper back, her finger guiding his vision to the correct corner of the page.
DAVID: Klea? They printed hers?
It takes him a few seconds to react with upset.
DAVID: Wait, what is that comment about her being a crush?
MABEL: Is she not? I mean, you two are pretty close.
DAVID: Well, we're friends, Mabel. It doesn't mean... ew!
A slight aura of disappointment radiates from the Ravenclaw.
MABEL: I'll be sure to never let her know you said that.
DAVID: "Tell me something about yourself that others don't know: Me and David have been best friends since our first day in Hogwarts together :D" – oh, Klea!
MABEL: Don't be upset.
DAVID: I'm totally upset! This is embarrassing!
MABEL: I think it's kind of cute that she mentions you.
DAVID: Of course you think that. You're a girl...
Mabel briefly pauses to show her upset.
MABEL: Yes David, and so is Klea.
DAVID: Of course she's a girl. But she's a... friend. She's a... friend... girl.
His sister nods mockingly in response.
MABEL: Very close. Now you just... switch those two last words and...
In protest, he closes the newspaper, throwing it onto the nearby couch.
DAVID: Enough of that. You know what? I will tell Klea about your silly thoughts later. She and I will have a good old laugh at your stupid idea. How about that?
Based on her dropped jaw and the smile that follows Mabel seems to have won the lottery with that suggestion.
MABEL: You know what Lil' Bro? I will absolutely be seated for that event. That's a promise.
DAVID: Fine.
MABEL: Fine.
DAVID: Fine!
MABEL: Fine?
DAVID: FINE!
MABEL: Huh?
Steve interrupts their intellectual discourse with a buzzing so sudden that both siblings flinch. As David takes the alarms clock out of his pocket and turns it off, Mabel reacts with shock once again.
DAVID: You scared me there.
MABEL: Oh gobshite – we're gonna be late, David!
DAVID: What?
He too makes use of Steve's chrono-capabilities.
DAVID: Oh, shite.
MABEL: Let's go!
DAVID: Ah, it's going to be fine. We haven't missed the bus once in our lives.
The Branchers comically look after the bus just as it departs from the station, having left them both behind.
DAVID: Granted, that's a first.
MABEL: Oh, we're totally screwed...
Thankfully Mabel's strapped ponytail prevents her from ripping her own hair out. While she is rocking her blue jeans with a thick coat on top of whatever, David's very simple outfit only consists of blue jeans also, with the top a piece of Genesis merch, a red flannel shirt over it.
MABEL: Mum's gonna kill me...
DAVID: She's not gonna kill you. Oh – we could call mum!
MABEL: No!
Her very harsh rebuttal actually gets him to shut his mouth.
MABEL: I promised mum that I would bring us to King's Cross, so I'll do exactly that. She already has enough on her mind as it is.
DAVID: The next bus is leaving in 40 minutes.
MABEL: Damn you, suburbia! What am I gonna do now?
After a brief moment of consideration...
DAVID: I do have a suggestion.
He nonverbally finishes his thought via gently kicking her broomstick case.
MABEL: No. If we're caught flying – which we will cause it's London – mum will get into so much trouble.
DAVID: We could use the invisibility spell.
MABEL: Do you know the invisibility spell?
DAVID: No? Don't you?
MABEL: No?
DAVID: Well, why not? You're a fifth year.
His sister lets out a deep-rooted sigh.
MABEL: This isn't helping. We'd both get into trouble regardless.
DAVID: Right then. Guess we'll have to ponder over some tea.
That's when a non-existent lightbulb ignites above Mabel's head.
MABEL: Oh, David – you're a genius!
DAVID: Thanks! Wait, why?
The girl swiftly picks up her trunk, the broomstick case, and then proceeds to walk down the street in the opposite direction, Jimmy Carter, the brown bull toad, politely seated on her shoulder the whole time.
Ribbit!
DAVID: Right. Um... where are we going?
He follows her down the street with his own luggage, then across, right into the less nice, slightly abandoned parts of their neighbourhood (remember, this is the 80s so – thanks Thatcher!).
MABEL: There's this little Café close by? Acden? I met with my friends a bunch during summer break.
DAVID: I vaguely recall. Dorothie and Cathie, right?
MABEL: Oh, so you do remember. Congrats.
They pass by some scummy, empty buildings with graffiti, forcing David to audibly gulp. Steve also rings up briefly, though subsides on his own.
DAVID: Oh right, Dorothie and her Gryffindor boyfriend Richard...
Whom, based on David's tone and cadence, he seems to adore.
DAVID: Pompous ass.
MABEL: He's not pompous. Not everyone's pompous and snobby just cause they're richer than us.
DAVID: His name literally is Rich-ard. And Cathie is totally pompous too.
MABEL: She's not.
DAVID: She is. Doesn't she have a boyfriend too? Some Hufflepuff dork?
A very pained sigh escapes Mabel's mouth.
MABEL: Yes. Peter...
DAVID. Right. Can we at least agree that Peter's pompous?
MABEL: No. Peter is just a moron.
DAVID: He-he. That he is.
In the corner of her face David spots his sister smiling. Shortly after, the girl halts.
MABEL: Here we are.
The "here" is a nasty, smelly, abandoned, crumbling, former housing unit. David makes a silly grossed-out face as he spots the "Access Forbidden" sign. A dog's howl is heard in the distance.
DAVID: I don't want to sound like a Muggle but... I think that might just be a local homeless hub.
MABEL: No, that's down the street. This is...
In a swift motion, the girl takes out her wand, tapping the sign repeatedly.
Knock knock-knock-knock-knock, knock-knock.
A few seconds pass before the "Access Forbidden" sign crumbles slightly, only the letters forming the word "Acden" remaining.
DAVID: Oh...
MABEL (mockingly imitating David): Oh...
Some elbow jabs later the door finally opens, leading the way into a lovely, homely little tavern with multiple circular tables carved into the walls, which are neatly decorated with all kinds of flora and moving pictures. Like with all things magic, you could not tell from the outside where this little Café was situated. Although it is undeniably, unmistakenly, British.
HANSEN: Ms. Brancher, what a lovely surprise seeing you here.
The Café's owner (David guesses?) walks from behind his counter, a perfectly straight apron dangling down his front as his overtly posh smile carries a surprising amount of genuine joy with it.
MABEL: Hey Mr. Hammick. Sorry to bother you, me and my brother are in a bit of a pickle.
HANSEN: Oh, Mr. Brancher. So lovely to see you.
With the stilted mannerisms of a mannequin, Hansen walks over to firmly shake David's hand, the boy overwhelmed by the extroverted character, whose golden hair seems to lose the fight against baldness.
HANSEN: Your sister has told me lots about you. She came here a bunch during summer break, you know.
DAVID: I do know.
HANSEN: Wonderful. You look just like your father, by the way.
Mabel can hear her brother's stomach turning at the comment, though chooses to remain a polite guest for now.
MABEL: Yes, like I said, we're in a bit of a pickle. Would it bother you if we were to use your chimney to get to King's Cross?
HANSEN: Oh, absolutely not. I'll go grab the Floo Powder while you get your luggage over there.
MABEL: I will, thank you.
As Hansen disappears behind his counter and Mabel puts her trunks next to the stone chimney, she briefly walks over to her brother, her hand placed softly on his shoulder.
MABEL: Are you okay there, Lil' Bro?
Her tone is much more compassionate and quiet than usually. Frozen by the mention of his father, David was briefly caught in a moment of unnerve, his memory flashing with old images of Donovan Brancher.
DAVID: Um... I'm fine. Just... need a moment.
She nods with a sympathetic smirk, Jimmy Carter puffing up its mouth cavity repeatedly.
Ribbit!
MABEL: I'll take myself and the luggage first, then you and Steve can come right after, okay?
While he doesn't utter it, he appreciates his sister immensely for this manoeuvre. He nods and she carries his trunk over to the chimney, placing all of it, then herself, into the fireplace, before grabbing a hand full of Floo Powder.
MABEL: Café Britannica!
Importantly, their connection spot. Upon speaking the words and dropping the substance, David's sister goes up in flames, her and the luggage disappearing into thin air. After taking a deep breath and pushing the memories of his dad aside, David takes a step-
Acden's main door is slammed open, another figure entering. A girl slightly taller than David, terra-cotta skin with long, raven-black hair hanging down the back in a braid, a black leather jacket and ripped jeans painting quite the picture. The girl is apparently out of breath, having sprinted all the way here. She halts, coincidentally right next to David, taking a few breaths-
DAVID: Alicia?
The mention of her name seems to trigger something inside the girl, making her assume a solid stance as her head turns to the boy, dark, mahogany eyes piercing his very soul while her lips form a pout.
ALICE: It's Alice. No one calls me Alicia.
DAVID: Oh. Right. I remember now. Well-
ALICE: How do you know my name, kid?
Her distinct, American accent turns his words to shrapnel.
DAVID: Um... first of all, I'm not a kid, second-
ALICE: That's right. We go to Muggle Studies together.
DAVID: Correct. It's uh... nice to see you here.
For a moment she glares him down like a Medusa.
ALICE (dry): Right. I'm ecstatic.
Spotting the Café owner, Alice immediately puts on a snobbish façade.
ALICE: Hansen, so good to see you! You look amazing, did you lose some weight?
HANSEN: Ms. Stansys! The surprises keep coming! And thank you for noticing...
A deep-rooted anger already grows inside of David as this stranger appears to steal his Floo Powder spot. Steve also briefly makes himself heard, David turning him off as some eyes in the Café have been drawn towards him already.
ALICE: Was that an alarm clock?
DAVID: No? I mean, none of your business.
The girl forgets his brief interruption and focuses back on the excited Mr. Hammick.
ALICE: Anyways, as I was saying, I really need your help. Some Floo Powder to get to King's Cross would be nice.
HANSEN: Of course! Anything for a Stansys.
ALICE: Thank you, Hansen.
It's only when the girl steps into the chimney with her trunk that David feels the need to intervene.
DAVID: Hey! I was next in line!
Alice casts a rather devious smirk at the boy as she takes a heap of magic dust, dropping it to her feet.
ALICE: Café Britannica.
Again, emerald green flames devour the girl, making her vanish into thin air.
HANSEN: No worry Mr. Brancher, there's enough Floo Powder left.
David reluctantly places himself in the chimney next, still appearing grumpy at this rude gal.
DAVID: Why did you let her go first?
HANSEN: Well, she didn't dally around like you did. But more importantly, she's a Stansys. That name means something.
DAVID: It does?
HANSEN: Of course. The Stansys are a powerful wizarding family over in America, although part of it moved to Scottland a few years back. There was a controversy regarding involvement with You Know Whom, but never anything substantial.
A cold shiver crawls down David's bones.
DAVID: Ah. Slytherin girl. That's right...
HANSEN: Now, don't you judge a book by its cover right away. Here.
He hands him the jar with the ash-like powder, David grabbing a good handful of it.
DAVID: Thank you, Hansen.
HANSEN: Oh no, you call me Mr. Hammick.
Slightly insulted and still upset about what just went down David speaks the name of the Café as he too is engulfed in green fire. For some reason he sees his dad reflected in the flames.