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Ottery St. Catchpole the Epic Saga of Our Town in One Hundred Drabbles - Sa13+ 4. Ancient Runes 5. Astronomy 8. Potions 9. Defense Against the Dark Arts 12. Charms 13. Quidditch 16. Dragonhide gloves 19. Wand 22. Kneazle 27. Owl 34. Parseltongue 37. Animagus 38. Patronus 39. Duel 44. Ford Anglia 46. Dungeon 53. Chase 55. Egg on 61. Kiss 79. author's choice 80. author's choice 92. Chocolate 93. Chicken 96. Socks 98. Pajamas No. 78.: You and I both loved-The train station She waited patiently in 1945 while his train came in, the war recently over. Now in the present, the train was stopping at the station. The tall lanky old man walked off onto the empty platform. It was not a very busy little town but it was his home. He smiled sadly at memory. Marisa, he could still see her waiting there in 1945, a young girl in a flouncy dress, standing by the old roman style columns, a smile on her face, spring in the town as the sun shined down on Ottery St. Catchpole. Butterflies dancing in daylight. |
Una flor y un amor Neville Longbottom had traveled a long way to find it, because it flowered there on moonlit nights on Stoatshead Hill outside the little town of Ottery St. Catchpole. He wanted it to show to Madame Sprout who taught Herbology. “Hello. It’s a lovely night for dragonsnap hunting isn’t?” “Excuse me?” Neville said surprised. He jumped back a little. A blonde haired girl wearing glasses the size of dishes smiled. A cloud moved away from the full moon, a wolf howled, and between them, the ground broke and a flower grew. “Dragonsnap,” Luna said, plucking it, handing it to the boy. |
More Ottery Oddness ... What if Ottery St. were a real town? Which it is but it's not Sitting in a classroom the boy’s mind was anywhere but there. He sighed as the professor went over calculations again on the board, math really did suck. How much more fun, the boy thought, to be in a school of magic somewhere else, than in his muggle school in the little town of Ottery St. Because he was sure there was magic somewhere. He would have sworn he had seen it. Once he had seen a light blue car flying; there had been that boy talking to that cat; when it rained stars. A book slammed. “Pay attention Mr. Siegel!” AN: "Alma al Aire" title of a song by Alejandro Sanz. He pwns. Ottery at least. |
Hufflepuff's Pride *sniffles* Sorry my allergies ... *Teddy fires the cannons* Cedric was six watching his father go to work. “I want to go too,” he said. Rifling through his father’s closet the boy found a pair of plaid robes. At the sound of someone clearing his throat he peeked out. On his head a golfer’s hat a fuzzy ball on it’s top, a shirt five sizes too big, and pants that dragged on the floor. “Son what … ” “I’m going to work too. I thought I might need a uniform,” the boy said. “You need more than a uniform to work at the ministry, son,” his father said smiling. |
Cat's can't dance but they can be in Drabbles ... The stray cat lazed lazily on the warm concrete street watching the slow advance of the few muggle cars that drove through the town of Ottery St. Catchpole. He looked up and read the street sign, Paper Street. Did nothing ever happen in this sleepy little burg? The black cat yawned. He loved the feel of the warm concrete on his belly. A bicycle bell rang, as the boy riding by doffed his cap. He could see a zeppelin flying by. A woman hung sheets on a line across buildings. There was nothing for it but to take a nap. |
All America's best comic writers come from Britain don'tcha know? ♥'s Grant Morrison Inside the bookstore, Ron whistled bored, while Harry riffled through an issue of 2000A.D. and Ottery chatted incessantly as he perused the books on the shelves. “No Teen Titans this week,” the dark haired boy said grumpily. “I can’t believe you like reading, Otts,” Ron said incredulously. “Don’t forget they have pictures,” Harry added mischievously. “Funny, Harry. Anyways, I was thinking of making a comic book. Call it, X-Tinguish, you know like X-Men only about a group of wizards who fight evil trolls, ogres and stuff.” Harry & Ron looked at each other, “X-tinguish?” “X-terminate? Teen Sorcerers? The Mighty Wizards?” |
Summer funs ... and Lj is the devil! *Ottery preaches to the congregation* It was hot. Not a little warm, but rather Saharan Desert, boil an egg on concrete, sweat evaporates instead of trickles, hot. Ron lay on the little wooden dock that led to the lake. In the water, Fred and George snickering looked over at their brother who had just finished eating and couldn’t go for a swim. Ron was slowly melting on the dock. “You’re not dragging me into the water,” Ron said, lying just out of reach. “Why would we …” “Want to do that?” George finished. Ron opened his eyes. Screamed as a giant snowball landed on him. |
I think my brain is going to explode ... The tall lanky old man walked, suitcase in hand, down the streets of the town. Wherever his gaze landed, the present gave way to the past. The trees lining the main street now, were but newly planted saplings then. The bakery in the corner still a bakery then, only now it was Wallace & sons. The streets were still stone, and he could see her. Marisa, just a girl of eighteen then, in her yellow dress running down the street holding his hand, dragging him to the soda shop that was only memory now, as were the cherry vanilla sodas. AN: Title from a song by Cristian ;) no plagarism here kids, it's the devil! T: Preach it brother! *fires the cannons* |
See? This is where a Luna and a Neville smilie would come in handy ... Neville came towards the girls, holding a pot in which a pretty white flower (it looked like an orchid anyways) sat. “There are no such things as snapdragons Luna,” Hermione said rolling her eyes. “And they don’t help you find true love.” “Look, Hermione,” Neville exclaimed smiling. “It’s an orchid,” Hermione replied, “They’re commonly confused.” The Snapdragon belched fire. Hermione ran screaming from the garden, Luna watching her, Neville holding the burping plant in his hands. “Perhaps she shouldn’t be so snappish with plants.” Luna said looking at Neville. Neville looked at Luna smiling. Was she trying to be funny? |
So *awkard silence* everyone watch Grey's Anatomy? *smiles nervously* “I don’t love you,” she said, slapping him on the face for good measure. He grabbed her arm. She turned fire in her eyes. He wouldn’t let her leave like that. “Didn’t you hear me the first time?” she screamed slapping him again with her free hand. He stood there holding her, and she laughed going for her wand. It was then he let her go ... The memory rippled in the pensieve. He’d only let Bellatrix go to defend himself. Walking to his bedroom window he watched the starlight over Ottery St. Catchpole. It could have been our home. |
I'd pay you all to read these but ... Teddy says it's not tax deductible like cannons To act. It was second nature to Ollie. He’d been acting all his life, hiding his ‘peculiarities’ from his family. Some of who knew. Rabbits popping out of his hat at dinner parties, his singing pet mice, the self-warming tea set. It wasn’t difficult deciding what to do with his life after Hogwarts. Becoming an actor, well the choice had come easily. After a life of pretending to be something he wasn’t now he could at least have a myriad choice of characters to play. Standing on the stage as the curtains rose, applause. Tonight, he was playing a wizard. |
You can't spell cauldron without Ron *giggles* Arthur was sitting on the front steps of the Burrow nursing a nasty bump on the head. He knew it was his fault and Molly had had reason to be angry but really swinging a cauldron at a bloke? Upstairs he could hear Bill crying as Arthur and the boys had likely woken him up with their rowdy singing. He’d sobered up soon enough, and he wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the front door mat, but he wasn’t willing to risk his pounding head in another fight with Molly. Next time the boys said, “Just another,” he’d know better. |
*smacks* No it's not Charley Weasley don't skim posts Charles Sumpter was ace, and everyone around town knew it. He was the best at rugby, soccer and cricket any day of the week. Not too bright in school but who cared about that when you were going to play professionally. Everyone around Ottery St. Catchpole knew him and loved him. The bravest boy. The favorite boy. Everyone but Marisa. He walked over dirt covered, and sweaty, smiling, to where the ball had gone where the girls sat watching them play. “Get the ball Charley!” Marisa was holding the sphere and suddenly he knew what it was to be fearful. |
Cheer up sleepy Jean ... The boy stood there, his nose bleeding, one boy on the ground, another sporting a cut lip and the other two looking scared. Cedric didn’t say anything, and Luna just stood behind him. He bent down to pick up the odd little toy. It was patchwork, in the shape of a mermaid with wings. “Next time, don’t pick a fight with a girl.” The boy on the ground, crying, ran away, his friends following after. “It’s a prospero,” the blonde haired girl said, “my mother …” her voice disappeared as tears rolled down her cheeks. Cedric knew about Luna’s mother. |
I pwn fiction it's that simple. T: You should, didn't you invent the written word? Alone on the hill she looked down at the marble headstone clutching her Transfiguration textbook tightly. It was the class she was most looking forward too. “Well I’ll be off to Hogwarts this year, Mum,” Luna said, a tear rolling down her eye; she wiped it hurriedly. Luna looked away, and around her. In that place, she was never alone; always there was someone to talk too. “I wish you were here. I wish you could see me go,” she said. “But if wishes were fishes …” she giggled. It was her mother’s favorite expression, “Then everybody would want seafood.” |
*Still chasing Teddy with the cannons after that last comment* Call me old ... 82. : I loved you-The willow by the old country lane leading from Ottery St. Charles Sumpter remembered it well. It was still there the old willow, now grown so tall and wide, standing next to the country lane that led outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. He stopped, walked around and found engraved there the initials C & M. He used to meet Marisa there. He smiled at the memory, at the way time passed, and how things planned often went awry. “You can’t be careful with a heart,” his grandfather had said. “Live and love hard.” The words of an older man now echoed in this old man’s ears as he walked in melancholy. |
*chasing Teddy, Ottery decides to call in his friends* O: Hello Lucius ... Molly Weasley was running around the house, the wicker laundry basket following behind her, while in the kitchen the dishes rattled in the sink as they washed themselves, upstairs the beds were made, outside an enchanted broomstick banged away at a carpet hanging on the line, knocking out the dust, and in the living room a pair of needles darned socks. Ron sighed, sadly. His mother really did work too hard. He wished they could have a house elf. “Need help with that Mum?” Ron asked, as he took the rubbish bin. It was the least he could do, no? |
Just a little lullaby to keep myself from crying ... It was the depression. Newspapers littered the streets of Ottery St. The Fascist and the Marxist fought for people’s attentions, a free meal and full stomachs got you eager ears. The black cat was finding it hard to earn a mouthful. No crumbs fall from poor tables. The cat walked down the empty streets of the town. It couldn’t read the signs, that said, ‘shop closed’ all he knew was that were once and eager hand had scratched his ear and earned him a bowl of milk now no one lived. Dark clouds rolled in, and it began to rain. |
I'm shameless ... your point? The dark haired boy watched as the red haired boy walked up to the dusty old tome sitting on the table. They both watched it intrigued. “Keep your hands away from that,” Arthur Weasley had warned. But curiosity is a bug that inflicts boys as well as cats. Idle summer days and youthful boredom didn’t help much either. Ron blew the dust from the cover, catching the other boy with a faceful of the shimmering motes. Ottery sneezed at the red haired boy, who glared at him angrily. The dark haired boy rubbed his nose apologetically, “Pixie dust. I’m allergic.” |
As one story ends, another's begun ... Charles Sumpter kept a steady pace at his age. He knew where he was going was not going anywhere; meanwhile around him children played ball on the streets, ignoring the old gentleman with the funny hat, remnant from a time when men wore suits and fancy shoes, and women dresses. He walked by a quaint little white two-story home, with a tiny garden in front. He looked up at the window, and saw an old woman looking down at him. He tipped his hat and smiled, she smiled back as he walked away. Over the post box the name Greenblatt. |
Please refer to the title to the post before this one ... *pokes* Uncle Al was a mooch, there was no getting around that. He came, he stayed, and “he ate all the best and drank all the rest,” as pop used to love to say about his brother. Mother never liked him talking that way about him around us kids, but you had to love the guy, he was never skimpy with the money when he had it, usually because it belonged to someone else. “Someday Ottery, when you’re rich and famous. I hope you’ll still remember your dear old uncle,” he would say. It was always sad to see him go. |
Needs more Neville/Luna will work on that ... “Who knew you could yodel?” Cedric said to the boy. Luna laughed from where she stood. They’d been picking on her again. The sweet boy from up the lane had come to her rescue again. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, “We’re not supposed to use magic outside of school.” Cedric was watching the boy on the hill, his yodeling echoing down into the valley where Ottery St. Catchpole was nestled. “Boys shouldn’t pick on girls,” he said. What went unsaid was the odd girl was like a sister to him. Luna smiled. It was as if she knew. |
And the shippyness continues ... “Dictionary?” Ron asked. “Yes, you see it’s this book little brother …” “And you use it to find words you don’t know what they mean … ” Ron blushed. Did Fred and George have to pick on him around Hermione? “I didn’t think either of you would know what a book was, much less one with so many words,” Ginny remarked smartly, from where she sat across the kitchen table. Harry giggled at that, and Ginny’s face turned every shade of red. She slammed her book shut and ran out of the kitchen to the accompaniment of the twin’s laughter. |
We don't all start courageous ... Boys bore easily, Arthur Weasley should have known, but it had been so long since he had been one it was easy to forget. So the book sat on the kitchen table, now free of dust. “Go on, touch it,” Ron said, “I dare ya.” The dark haired boy was scared, magical books could do anything really. But he didn’t want Ron thinking him a coward. So, slowly he moved his trembling hand over the cover. “Ah!” Ottery screamed, as the book snapped at him. Next to him Ron Weasley fell to the floor. The red haired boy had fainted. |
Ottery is popular at tea parties too ... Mm hmm ... Mercurial Topper was his name, madness and hats are his game, read the sign over the door. Indeed the short gentleman in the light blue top hat was renowned in the wizarding world as the wizard who had created the Sorting Hat … or rather for taking credit for it. Truth, the hat was as old as the school. Still Mercurial was popular at tea parties, having a way with words. He closed his shop, as he did everyday, off to a tea date. Smiling at the ladies, he always took off his hat, under which his pet dormouse slept. |
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