Post by Karlynne on May 27, 2005 14:53:51 GMT -5
We decided it was best to submit Karlie's stories under her account so there won't be any confusion over whose stories is whose. Also if Alex happens to log in he can easily find the stories. We didn't edit or make any changes and this was written before the 'guidelines' so there's no summary but the rating is 13+ and no warnings that I can see although I've only read two chapters so far. We hope you enjoy. Krys
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I have always wanted to write a story where Albus isn’t a hero yet nor a Professor nor had he worked with Nicholas Flamel. I tried to consider what sort of occupation he would be interested in pursuing, as he seems to have varied interests. I hope you like my choice and enjoy the story. I tried to remain true to timelines so cut me a bit of flexibility and I’ll try not to wander too far from it. Karlie
I’ll Hold your Hand
Chapter One
Minerva McGonagall felt panic rising in her throat and she tried to swallow it. She didn’t have enough money. She looked at the knuts in her hand; dread creeping in to seize the empty space in her stomach that the measly bowl of soup hadn’t filled. It had been the cheapest thing on the menu with any nutritional value. Unfortunately she had forgotten about the sales tax.
Not only did she not have enough money for the check, she didn’t have money to pay for an owl from the post office to send a letter. She was hoping for a break and possibly, just possibly she had finally found her father.
If this man wasn’t her father it was another dead end. That feeling of dread swept back in. She was out of money without a soul on earth to call for help. She had reached the end of the line. She could only hope the aurors that arrested her would place her in a cell at the ministry instead of sending her to prison.
She remembered what her muggle grandmother always told her. “Wherever God closes a door he opens a window.” She had never held much faith in her grandmother’s God. He was the one responsible for the magic that flowed through her veins. Her mother had abandoned her at the age of three after one incident too many couldn’t be explained and she had been convinced she had born ‘a child of the devil’. Her father had not been aware of her existence so she had been left with her elderly grandmother that loved her no matter how many bizarre incidents occurred.
When she received her Hogwarts letter, many things had been revealed and Minerva had been filled with hope for the first time in her life. She would no longer have to bear the brunt of teasing from classmates that hated anything different. She loved the seven years she spent at Hogwarts and excelled in school.
After graduation, she had returned home to nurse her ailing grandmother. She was a muggle so she could not be placed in a magical care facility and Minerva refused to consider a muggle nursing home. She spent three years caring for her grandmother before the old lady breathed her last and Minerva was truly alone.
Minerva glanced around the diner. She wondered if the bathroom had a window she could climb out. NO! She had come this far without lying or cheating anyone. She would just have to be honest and hope the kind-faced woman took pity on her.
The waitress returned and Minerva looked up. She was elderly and walked with a proprietary air. Minerva realized she was probably the owner. Minerva’s hands began to shake and her heart was pounding.
The waitress looked concerned. “Are you alright, dearie?”
Minerva felt lower than dirt. How was she to tell this thoughtful woman that not only was she not going to tip her but she was going to shortchange the check also?
“I don’t have enough,” she said, but it came out so softly and her voice quivered so badly that she wasn’t understood.
“I don’t have enough money,” she said louder. Two women in the next booth looked at her with unmasked distaste. Minerva’s face burned with shame. Could this be any more humiliating? “I’m three knuts short.”
The waitress looked her up and down and raised an eyebrow. “Three knuts, huh?”
“I am willing to work for my meal. I can cook.”
“Come with me,” the waitress said before turning and walking towards the back room. “To my office,” she added.
Minerva stood on wobbly legs and grabbed her knapsack from the seat. This was it. Her heart was sinking so low she could feel the persistent throb of her pulse all the way down to her toes. Magical law enforcement would be called and she would be carted away. Oh well, a jail cell was better than sleeping on the street like she had done last night.
She held her head high despite the look of pure disdain from the women in the next booth. She tried to look at herself through their eyes. Her robes were rumpled again. She had been too tired to do much more than cast cleaning spells on them. She probably looked homeless. She stopped for a moment. She was homeless.
Minerva was led to a tiny office near the back and offered a seat opposite a small cluttered desk.
“What’s your name, dearie?”
“Minerva,” she answered lowering her head. “Minerva McGonagall.”
“Well, Minerva McGonagall you wait here.”
Minerva sat in the chair and tried to steel herself for what was to come. She looked at framed pictures of what had to be the waitress/owner’s children and grandchildren. Everyone looked so happy; a big, happy family. Some day I’ll have a real family, she thought. After I get out of jail, it might happen.
She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Goodness, she was exhausted.
The door opened and a ripple of fear turned her limbs to jelly. She waited for the inevitable. She would be told aurors were on their way.
Instead the woman set a plate down on the desk in front of Minerva. A plate piled high with chips and beef sandwiches. Next to the plate she set a large glass of pumpkin juice.
Mouth gaping, all Minerva could do was stare. Why was she bringing more food when she couldn’t even pay for her soup?
The waitress circled the desk and took a seat. “My name is Polly by the way.” She looked at Minerva staring at the plate. “Well, are you just going to stare at it? You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
Polly wasn’t going to have her arrested. She was going to help her. Minerva’s fear melted away and tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t thought such kindness still existed.
Polly began searching through drawers while Minerva picked up a chip and bit off a piece. It was greasy and salty and the most heavenly thing she had ever tasted but she could hardly swallow past the lump of emotion in her throat.
“Ah, here it is. My sister worked for this man for ten years but she’s too old now. She quit just yesterday so I know he’s looking for someone new.” She handed Minerva a slip of paper. “You tell him Polly sent you over and he’ll set you up.”
When God closes a door, He opens a window.
Polly stood and headed for the door. “Go ahead and finish eating before you go. You can leave the back way. No point in all those nosy biddies watching you to see what will happen to you.” She gave Minerva a wink and left.
Minerva watched her leave and swore she saw a halo floating above the woman and somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the faint sound of a window sliding open. She stared down at the card.
Albus Dumbledore, 72 Le Fey Road, Hogsmeade Village
******************************************
I have always wanted to write a story where Albus isn’t a hero yet nor a Professor nor had he worked with Nicholas Flamel. I tried to consider what sort of occupation he would be interested in pursuing, as he seems to have varied interests. I hope you like my choice and enjoy the story. I tried to remain true to timelines so cut me a bit of flexibility and I’ll try not to wander too far from it. Karlie
I’ll Hold your Hand
Chapter One
Minerva McGonagall felt panic rising in her throat and she tried to swallow it. She didn’t have enough money. She looked at the knuts in her hand; dread creeping in to seize the empty space in her stomach that the measly bowl of soup hadn’t filled. It had been the cheapest thing on the menu with any nutritional value. Unfortunately she had forgotten about the sales tax.
Not only did she not have enough money for the check, she didn’t have money to pay for an owl from the post office to send a letter. She was hoping for a break and possibly, just possibly she had finally found her father.
If this man wasn’t her father it was another dead end. That feeling of dread swept back in. She was out of money without a soul on earth to call for help. She had reached the end of the line. She could only hope the aurors that arrested her would place her in a cell at the ministry instead of sending her to prison.
She remembered what her muggle grandmother always told her. “Wherever God closes a door he opens a window.” She had never held much faith in her grandmother’s God. He was the one responsible for the magic that flowed through her veins. Her mother had abandoned her at the age of three after one incident too many couldn’t be explained and she had been convinced she had born ‘a child of the devil’. Her father had not been aware of her existence so she had been left with her elderly grandmother that loved her no matter how many bizarre incidents occurred.
When she received her Hogwarts letter, many things had been revealed and Minerva had been filled with hope for the first time in her life. She would no longer have to bear the brunt of teasing from classmates that hated anything different. She loved the seven years she spent at Hogwarts and excelled in school.
After graduation, she had returned home to nurse her ailing grandmother. She was a muggle so she could not be placed in a magical care facility and Minerva refused to consider a muggle nursing home. She spent three years caring for her grandmother before the old lady breathed her last and Minerva was truly alone.
Minerva glanced around the diner. She wondered if the bathroom had a window she could climb out. NO! She had come this far without lying or cheating anyone. She would just have to be honest and hope the kind-faced woman took pity on her.
The waitress returned and Minerva looked up. She was elderly and walked with a proprietary air. Minerva realized she was probably the owner. Minerva’s hands began to shake and her heart was pounding.
The waitress looked concerned. “Are you alright, dearie?”
Minerva felt lower than dirt. How was she to tell this thoughtful woman that not only was she not going to tip her but she was going to shortchange the check also?
“I don’t have enough,” she said, but it came out so softly and her voice quivered so badly that she wasn’t understood.
“I don’t have enough money,” she said louder. Two women in the next booth looked at her with unmasked distaste. Minerva’s face burned with shame. Could this be any more humiliating? “I’m three knuts short.”
The waitress looked her up and down and raised an eyebrow. “Three knuts, huh?”
“I am willing to work for my meal. I can cook.”
“Come with me,” the waitress said before turning and walking towards the back room. “To my office,” she added.
Minerva stood on wobbly legs and grabbed her knapsack from the seat. This was it. Her heart was sinking so low she could feel the persistent throb of her pulse all the way down to her toes. Magical law enforcement would be called and she would be carted away. Oh well, a jail cell was better than sleeping on the street like she had done last night.
She held her head high despite the look of pure disdain from the women in the next booth. She tried to look at herself through their eyes. Her robes were rumpled again. She had been too tired to do much more than cast cleaning spells on them. She probably looked homeless. She stopped for a moment. She was homeless.
Minerva was led to a tiny office near the back and offered a seat opposite a small cluttered desk.
“What’s your name, dearie?”
“Minerva,” she answered lowering her head. “Minerva McGonagall.”
“Well, Minerva McGonagall you wait here.”
Minerva sat in the chair and tried to steel herself for what was to come. She looked at framed pictures of what had to be the waitress/owner’s children and grandchildren. Everyone looked so happy; a big, happy family. Some day I’ll have a real family, she thought. After I get out of jail, it might happen.
She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Goodness, she was exhausted.
The door opened and a ripple of fear turned her limbs to jelly. She waited for the inevitable. She would be told aurors were on their way.
Instead the woman set a plate down on the desk in front of Minerva. A plate piled high with chips and beef sandwiches. Next to the plate she set a large glass of pumpkin juice.
Mouth gaping, all Minerva could do was stare. Why was she bringing more food when she couldn’t even pay for her soup?
The waitress circled the desk and took a seat. “My name is Polly by the way.” She looked at Minerva staring at the plate. “Well, are you just going to stare at it? You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
Polly wasn’t going to have her arrested. She was going to help her. Minerva’s fear melted away and tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t thought such kindness still existed.
Polly began searching through drawers while Minerva picked up a chip and bit off a piece. It was greasy and salty and the most heavenly thing she had ever tasted but she could hardly swallow past the lump of emotion in her throat.
“Ah, here it is. My sister worked for this man for ten years but she’s too old now. She quit just yesterday so I know he’s looking for someone new.” She handed Minerva a slip of paper. “You tell him Polly sent you over and he’ll set you up.”
When God closes a door, He opens a window.
Polly stood and headed for the door. “Go ahead and finish eating before you go. You can leave the back way. No point in all those nosy biddies watching you to see what will happen to you.” She gave Minerva a wink and left.
Minerva watched her leave and swore she saw a halo floating above the woman and somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the faint sound of a window sliding open. She stared down at the card.
Albus Dumbledore, 72 Le Fey Road, Hogsmeade Village
! It's very original, and very well-written too... I'm definitely hooked for the next chapters ;D!
!!!!!!! 