Claustrophobia

*For a recap: see posts with label "Henry's Story"*

The world around Henry was consumed by the scene, which was taking place in front of him. Crowds of people, ranging from crying toddlers to old ladies waving farewell to their children, stood in front of an enormous steam engine. Massive huddles of kids were lined up, ready to board the magnificent train. Hordes of people surrounded them, fishing for a quick last glimpse of their loved ones. Henry found himself caught, like a salmon swimming upstream, in a current of bustling strangers. His heartbeat echoed inside his head, and he suddenly felt dizzy. A blurry haze veiled his sight, and he struggled to remain upright as the swarms of people closed in on him from every direction, sweeping him up into the monstrous throng. He started to topple over, but caught himself with a firm grip on his cart. His eyes closed as he fought to keep a grasp on the compact, airtight world around him.

Henry was abruptly jerked back into consciousness by a sound from directly above him. “Lad, are you all right? You look faint.” Called the voice. Henry felt a hand on his shoulder. The fog hindering his vision began to lift as the man above him cleared his throat. Henry shakily turned his head upward to face the fellow who’d woken him from his sudden sickness. A pair of golden eyes stared back down at him from a broad, angular face, dominated by wrinkles and a short, white beard. It seemed, to Henry, that the old man standing above him couldn’t possibly be any younger than his grandfather.

“Well, Mr. Talbot. I’d say you had best hurry, or there’s a fair chance you’ll miss your train.” Henry took a glance around him to find that he and his senile companion were the only two people not huddled in front of the train. Henry started to shuffle off in the direction of the train when suddenly a thought dawned on him.

“Wait, Mister, how did you—“ But the man didn’t seem to hear him, as he was already too far in the opposite direction. How does someone that old walk so fast? Out of the corner of Henry’s eye, though, he could swear he saw the man give a wink. 

A sudden and mysterious wind

*For a recap: see posts with label "Henry's Story"*

Henry stared down at his ticket, completely and utterly befuddled. 9 ¾, what bloody sort of a joke is this? He ranted silently. It seemed so silly and pointless, but looking down at his watch and seeing that he only had a quarter hour before the train should leave, he decided to continue on. After just about navigating the entirety of King’s Cross Station, Henry lost himself standing between platforms nine and ten, tightly grasping his ticket in his left hand and steering his cart with his right. He dropped his left arm to his side when a sudden and mysterious wind plucked the ticket directly from between his fingers.

            “No! My ticket!” he exclaimed frantically, jumping after the fleeing slip of paper. Strange stares followed him around platform ten as Henry chased after the elusive ticket, his cart screeching after him. Running directly at the barrier between the two platforms, he was finally able to snatch it up in his left hand. Alas, his triumphant smile was fleeting as he realized he was about to collapse into the massive barrier. His feet stopped too late, and he tumbled face first into the barrier. But the impact never came.

Meet the Talbots

For a recap, view posts with label "Henry's Story"

A few hours later at the Talbot house…

“Sorry, Henry,” Gregory Talbot replied apathetically, “but I am just too busy to see you off. Unfortunately I must get this in to my boss by the end of the week. Ask your mother; I’m sure she’d love to accompany you to the railway station.” Through his whole defence, Henry’s father hadn’t bothered to look up from his computer. They’d never been close, but Henry had hoped that maybe just this once, his father would take a break from work to spend some time, however short it may be, with his son. And so Henry slumped away, dejected, in search of his mother. He found Melissa Talbot curled up on the couch in front of the television, watching reruns of Dr. Who.

“Mum, will you drive me to the railway station?” Henry asked.

“Henry, dear, I’d be delighted to.” She replied gladly, instantly putting him in a much better mood. She jumped to her feet and skipped outside, keys in hand. Henry followed shortly after. On the way out the door, Henry ran into his younger sister. He took a deep sigh, for however small she may seem, Leah Talbot was a force to be reckoned with, and Henry wasn’t getting away easily. Although she was as petite and delicate as a flower in appearance, she prides herself on being the most stubborn child to have ever walked the earth.

“Mum, are you taking Henry to wizard school? I want to go with! I want to go with! Mummy, you must let me go with you!” before Leah could slip any farther into an unrelenting torrent of whining, Melissa retired and agreed to allow her to come with. Henry recalled being in a similar situation with his obnoxiously persistent sister; and of what he remembered, it didn’t end well. Better to give in, Henry thought, then to waste an entire hour.

After sixty minutes of sitting in the backseat, trying to tune out the off-pitch sing-along to Rihanna’s “We Found Love”…

Oh, Irony, Henry mused to himself, we could have spent an hour convincing Leah to stay home; but instead, I must endure an hour of her horrible taste in music. As soon as the car rolled to a stop in front of King's Cross Railway Station, Henry jumped out, more than eager to leave his mother and sister to themselves. Henry dragged his school supplies as quickly as his legs could carry him inside. Once out of sight of his deranged family, he could finally relax. He leaned up against a wall and collected his bearings. Breathing heavily, he checked his cart to be sure he hadn’t dropped anything. Finally, with everything accounted for, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his ticket. In large print, centred on the ticket, it read: Platform 9 ¾

           

Hide and Seek

Where is Cedric? He has been gone for too long. Maybe he—no, that’s not possible, Virginia speculated. Suddenly the door opened with a conspicuous screech. Virginia jumped out of the chair she had been lounging in and ran. She made it to the secret door, the only way out, just before she felt enormous, cold hands wrap around her, pulling her back. She screamed in alarm, but felt those same filthy fingers cover her mouth. Trying to wriggle out of his grasp, she silently prayed to whatever god was listening. Virginia felt a fire burning in her veins. It pulsed through her mind and soul. Some called it magic; to others, it was a gift; to Virginia, it was just who she was. She released it. Virginia knew she had been defeated when she felt her spell blocked. An eerie cackling filled the room. No! her thoughts cried, This can’t be happening! The guard, with a tight grip, swung Virginia around to face the room. Virginia wanted nothing more than to shut her eyes, for the sight she saw was nothing short of a horrible nightmare.

Guards huddled around her two sons, whose feet and hands were bound tightly with rope. And in the center of the room, with a hair-raising smile painted on her face, stood the duchess. Finding the guard’s hand no longer wrapped around her face, Virginia addressed the villainous monster in front of her.

“Aglica,” she hissed, “I never thought I’d see the day when you sunk low enough to employ men to do your dirty work.”

“Silence, you wench! You do not afflict me. While you’ve been off, hiding, sharing bed with a fool, another fool, actually, I’ve been doing something useful. And this time, I will not be defeated by the likes of you, or the likes of anyone else."

Pursuit

For a recap, view posts with label "Cedric and Virginia's Story"

Cedric knelt in awe at the mystifying duchess. She lifted her head imperiously,

            “It is not him; he is not the one. Far too weak of will.” Cedric did not feel insulted, rather warmed that she spoke of him. His sudden dependence on her was sick, wrong, unnatural, but Cedric didn’t know any better anymore. The duchess lowered her eyes to meet Cedric’s gaze.

            “Is it one of your sons that I seek? How would you feel, if I took one of them? Or maybe it is your wife, sad little Virginia? Yes, maybe it is she.” Cedric suddenly had a moment of clarity. His wife and children were in danger; he had to do something. His hands searched for a weapon, anything, when he found himself hanging inches from the ground, the duchess’s hand the only thing keeping him from falling. Her voice rang out to her guards,

            “Find her, find her and bring her to me. Perhaps she is something… special. Oh, and would you please dispose of … this,” She said this as if he was an animal, a lowly, disgusting animal.

Bethesda

Henry had touched the magic; he had felt an abandoned chamber of his soul, reopened. He couldn’t believe he’d never felt it until now; it had always been there, just out of reach of the muggle boy he’d thought he was. As he stepped out of the wandshop, back onto the street, he was overwhelmed with a sense of possibility. This wasn’t a curse, but a gift, something to be cherished and used. Suddenly Henry was glad he was going to Hogwarts; he couldn’t wait a second more.  His wand’s aura, caged in its ash wood shell, pulsed with temptation, the world only an arm’s reach away.

            Henry saw a girl waving at him from across the cobblestone pavement—one of his friends from his old muggle school, Bethesda Abrams.

What on Earth is she doing here? Henry wondered skeptically. As Henry already knew, Bethesda Abrams had always been—and always will be—the most hopelessly desperate, senseless, uninspired girl in the entire world. But no one’s been known for their diligent efforts as much as poor Bethesda. She ran to where Henry was standing as fast as she could, nearly falling out of her shoes to find someone she knew. Her frizzy, vermillion hair bounced with every unintentionally exaggerated stride.

“Henry,” she gasped, struggling for breath, “I just saw you coming out of there.” Cough cough “And I wanted to” cough “say hi.” She was waving her hand like a lunatic, as if he couldn’t see her right in front of him. No use trying to pretend I don’t know her, Henry resigned, mourning his reputation.

“Hi, Bethy.” I am done for; no one will ever talk to me again, “I haven’t seen you since last term. What brings you here?”

“Same as everyone else: looking for supplies for school. I’m so nervous; I hear the Headmaster sometimes turns students into fish if they get on his nerves, and he keeps them all in a bowl in his office. You don’t think it’s true do you, Henry?” she begged franticly.  It’s going to be a long year.

*note that this content was not authorized by the author or publisher, and is simply from my imagination*

Wand-Buying for Beginners

--Based on the world of Harry Potter--
*note that this content was not authorized by the author or publisher, and is simply from my imagination*

Henry strolled slowly into the wandshop. You wouldn't be able to tell he was a wizard just by looking at him, but his blue eyes held more secrets than just a propensity for magic. Once inside, Henry was glad he'd left his non-magical parents at home; this new, frightening world of magic and wizardry would have only set them apart farther. It'd been at least thirty years since the death of Lord Voldemort, and in the years since that fateful day, Ollivander had decided to take a long break, leaving his wandshop temporarily in the care of his great-niece, a young witch named Claudia. Claudia was not the wisest of witches, but she did have a young, naive flare that, as family, Ollivander could not turn away. She didn't know what she'd gotten into when she'd decided to run the wandshop.  Henry's first glimpse of the witch was sprawled out on the floor after she'd run into him and dropped the stack of wandboxes she'd been carrying.


"My goodness! I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't see you there. Here, let me help you up." Claudia extended her hand to him to pull him up off the cold stone floor. Henry gratefully took it and started to stand up. On his feet again, Henry started to browse around the store, his eyes trying to loop around endless shelves.
"Sir, why don't you let me assist you." Claudia stated plainly. She walked across the shop to a row of shelves in the back that looked identical to all of the others and snatched up an enormous stack of boxes. The massive pile rose up over her head, blocking her face and causing her to sway with every step. She finally got to the front of the store, and set them down on her desk, the top three falling over inevitably. She didn't bother to pick them up off the ground, but started to open the top box, pulling out a stick that Henry assumed was a wand. 
"Try this one out: eight and a half inches, beechwood and phoenix feather" She commanded, duly handing the wand to Henry. Henry took it in his right hand and swooshed it in the air a bit, but sadly nothing happened.
"It's not worki--" Henry was abruptly cut off by the witch,
"Then it's not meant for you. Great Uncle Ollie always says that the wand chooses the wizard, and I suppose maybe that's true, but I say that it's like trying on shoes. If one wand doesn't fit you, there's always another one out there that will." Wands choosing wizards, trying on shoes, possessing magical powers: it was all making Henry's head spin. 
"Try this one, it's hippogriff feather and ash." She instructed, giving Henry the wand before he could process her request. He did the same as he had with the wand before, except this time, instead of nothing, the tip of the stick began to glow. Claudia smiled, "That's the one." she announced grabbing the wandbox to look at the inside. 
"That would be ten galleons please." she hummed. Henry, confusedly grabbed about 60 pounds from his wallet-- his mother had insisted he take at least 120 pounds since they didn't know how costly magical items would be. Claudia frowned, then after examining the money for a minute, came to a conclusion. 
"Sir... um Mr..."
"Talbot, I'm Henry Talbot" he informed her.
"Mr. Talbot, I would suggest you acquire some wizard currency before you decide to keep shopping here. Most vendors do not accept muggle money. I will make an exception for you just this once, but you'd best stop by Gringotts soon; they will most likely be able to convert this... paper to wizard coins." She then handed him back an extra five pounds change and his newly-bought wand.

Prisoner

The light spiraled into the room like a spider spinning its web. How long had she been asleep? Was it the moon or the sun that voyaged through the small hole in the ceiling? Victoria sat in utter silence. Her ankle was stained with dark purple splotches, devoured by the pain they brought. She wished she had a knife; then she could slice it off and rid herself of the ache it caused her. She felt blood streaming from the cuts that lined her forearms and wrists, even though she could not see them, tied up with splintered rope behind her back. Her belly ached with unbearable hunger.

A loud creak resounded through the room, the wooden floor carrying the cacophony. The stone door flew open with a noisy thwack. She recognized the man that walked in as if he’d only existed in a dream. She knew his eyes, oh, those eyes. They glowed a fierce shade of yellow, like a cat’s. He had a syringe in his right hand, filled with a pale, sea-foam fluid. He was here to kill her; they couldn’t get any answers from her, so they were giving up. She started to laugh; she couldn’t help it; the shifters were always so lazy. They lacked the diligence that her kind had. They didn’t know that she wanted nothing more than to die, to make the pain of her life leave, to abandon the burning of her stomach, the stinging of her wrists, the aching of her ankle.

The witch’s cackles filled the room, absorbing every nook and cranny. The insane chuckle stole his attention. He took a step back. The malevolent face of the witch caused a cold sweat to break out. It drenched his body with sticky fear. She didn’t stop. He took a reluctant step forward, worried to carry out the job. They would kill him if he didn’t do it. Her burning laugh was all he could hear. Still cautious, he strode up to Victoria. The cackles were deafeningly loud, almost shrieking. He quickly stabbed the needle into her neck. Victoria’s vision began to fade, but her psychotic smile stayed. her last laugh stopped in her throat as the poison reached her heart. She would go where nothing, not even the pain, could follow.

Fascinated

Her sapphire eyes sparkled with curiosity. Cedric smiled back at the lady who stood before him. What reason could a duchess possibly have to require him? Cedric’s cows were run dry, his farms barren, his animals bore no meat, and he could no longer wield a blade. The noblewoman laughed as if she could hear his thoughts from where she stood. Still, he wondered. Why would such an elite lady want a mere commoner, why would she send men armed with swords on horseback to summon and fetch him? What must his wife, Virginia think? What will his children say when and if he arrives home again?

“Cedric,” the seductive sounds that rolled off her tongue caught him off guard. Her beauty was that of a siren, only to be matched by that of the Queen, Herself. Cedric looked up into the duchess’s face. She gazed into his eyes while motioning with her hands for him to come closer. He shuffled forward, unaware of the soldiers that surrounded him. They followed inwards to form a tighter arc around the poor farmer.

When Cedric was only a half an arm’s length away, the duchess reached out her hand. Cedric almost moved away, but decided to stay, compelled by an invisible force. He leaned his head in farther.

“My lady,” He whispered. She traced the scar that ran from his forehead to his left cheek, mirroring the image with the tip her right ring finger’s nail. He was caught in the magic of her spell, hexed by her perfection. He was caught in the turbulent waves of her auburn hair, which danced on her shoulder. The world spun all around him—except for the two of them, drifting in and out of existence. He was totally and utterly captivated. He repeated his words again; the fear that she had not heard his words lingered in him still.

“My lady,” He cooed, wanting nothing but to please his mistress. He was bound to her by heart, mind, and soul. He was obligated to carry out her wishes no matter the consequences. He knelt on the ground in front of her feet, tears of longing landed silently on her toes.