September 14th, 2014

breeden

The Only Harry Potter Fanfic I Will Ever Write (Probably)

(There was a call to make an LJ post today, so since I was thinking about how Hufflepuff gets absolutely no love the other day, you get my sorry attempts at fic.)

            “Help!” cried the very junior wizard, falling down on the doorstep of the medium-sized cottage that would someday be Hogwarts. “Help!  The giants are invading!”
            “Giants?” asked Godric Gryffindor, sticking his head out of the window. “I thought we beat those last week.”
            “These are different giants,” said the junior wizard. “Also wolves. And basilisks.”
            “Wolves and basilisks?”
            “The wolves are riding the basilisks,” said the wizard. “Look, it’s a bit of a mess, all right?” He rubbed his forehead.
            “Are they werewolves?” called Helga Hufflepuff, from inside the cottage. “I firmly believe that werewolves should be judged by their actions as individuals. This anti-lycanthropic discrimination has got to stop.”
            “They’re riding basilisks,” said Godric. “They’re probably not upstanding members of the werewolf community.”
            “Wouldn’t they have turned to stone?” asked Rowena Ravenclaw, who was sitting in an armchair with a book. She turned a page.
            “Smoked goggles,” said the junior wizard shortly. “Incidentally, I’m bleeding rather a lot.”
            “Oh, you poor dear,” said Helga, wiping her hands on her apron. “Come in and we’ll get you fixed up.”
            The junior wizard sat at the dining room table and was given cookies and a very large brandy, while the four great wizards planned their next move.
            Unfortunately, they were still not very good at working together. Godric wanted a straight charge up the middle, death-or-glory style. Rowena wanted an elaborate battle plan involving perfect timing and the movement of a great many troops they didn’t actually have. Salazar suggested they just seed the enemy’s supplies with botulism and canine distemper.
            “Cowardly!” cried Godric. But Rowena looked thoughtful. Helga tapped a fingernail on her teeth.
            In the end, it was agreed that they would simply all meet on the field of battle tomorrow, ready to fight, and see what the future held.
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I can't actually draw the scene in the fic, but since my head-canon is now that Hufflepuffs are all given a warbadger upon graduation, here's Portrait Of The Artist With Her Badger Mister Digglesworth.
warbadger