Omo-secret

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Omo-secret last won the day on March 29 2013

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  1. Omo-secret

    Nightwing

    Funny that you mention that because SPOILERS FOR YOUNG JUSTICE SEASON 3 I super duper forgot how to use the spoiler tag function so I'm just going to add a little fluff text so the spoiler isn't super in plain sight right after the spoiler warning. But anyways cyborg is in season 3 and noticeably less robotic from the waist down. So ya know, maybe one day. I do really like the character and this is just a little more fluff text for people whose eyes, like mine, skip to the bottom of text. I think think this is a good place to end it.
  2. I've seen this video from omogirlskink on tumblr, but I don't know if it is theirs originally or not. https://omogirlskink.tumblr.com/post/179939262992/part-2-the-wetting-aww-damn-i-couldnt-hold-it
  3. Omo-secret

    Sick Cheerleader

    Probably not. Unfortunately my computer is currently on a cycle of factory resets and crashes so until I get a new one I don't feel safe writing anything new. The big bummer is I do have a few stories on a flash drive that are unedited but I can't finish because of the computer situation and I really don't feel comfortable moving them to a public computer to work on.
  4. Omo-secret

    Sick Cheerleader

    Wow it's certainly odd to see my older work getting any attention. Granted as long as it's been since I've written all of my work is kind of old I suppose. Thanks for the kind words everyone. You're right, if it was just sickness it probably should have been restricted to one or the other (likely messing). I don't super remember writing this (or rather I don't remember it at all) but I imagine I really wanted to write a scene where a cheerleader wets herself and a scene where she messes herself but didn't want to write two separate scenes. Shame, might have been interesting to do a short series on a cheerleader with bathroom troubles.
  5. So It's been a while since I last posted here. I think the last time I did, the theme was still black. I actually can't remember what color I used for these author notes, This looks more red than orange but it might just be the white background? Anyway, This time my absence, whether or not you noticed it, wasn't due to a hiatus, but rather because I kind of hit a sort of writer's block. In this, case it was mostly uncertainty of what to do. I still have two ideas for original stories to work on, an avatar and a pokemon story I decided against, and I'm still not sure what I want to do about Not Quite Harry Potter. So in the meantime, to let anyone who cares no I'm still around, here is one of my original character stories. Brittany watched as the bubbly brunette made her way through the crowded school halls. It warmed her heart to see Autumn so happy, since her rather poor start to her freshman year. In the months that passed though, the school’s wide receiver had his butt kicked by a cross country kid, and Tommy Wellington had become the new joke on campus. Few, even remembered Autumn’s accident. Brittany was among those few. Though she was glad that Autumn had since recovered from her humiliation, Brittany frequently dwelled on the image of the mortified girl’s soaked pants. That day opened Brittany’s eyes to the strange taboo of wetting oneself. In the time that followed Brittany frequently waited until the last minute, when she could barely stand it any longer, to relieve herself. While the desperation was exciting, Brittany begun to dwell on a persistent question: was she really pushing herself to the limit? In the safety of her house, where there was no consequence was she really going when it was absolutely necessary, or was she just giving in when she decided to? She was not going to have that question bother her any longer! Brittany was no longer in the comfort of her home. In school, as Autumn had sadly learned, there were far greater repercussions if Brittany couldn’t hold it. With one more class in the day, Brittany was beginning to realize her limits. “Ok, Britty, you got this.” She told herself, taking a deep breath, and one last longing glace at the bathroom before ducking into her humanities classroom. The loud chatter of the halls gave way to the soft chatter of the students. Brittany’s teacher sat behind her desk, absently reading away at her latest young adult novel. Her class was spread out among the several round tables, either working on their projects or making idle chat with their friends, or scrolling through their phones. Brittany awkwardly shuffled to a table populated only by a wispy Asian girl, whose dark hair hung like a curtain around her face as she sketched her own version of the Mona Lisa. “Hey, Liz, how’s it going.” Brittany asked, situating herself into a seat, shortly before the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the period. Just fifty minutes to go. Brittany silently encouraged herself. “Oh you know. Just trying to get her hair right. I hate hair.” She huffed, brushing her own hair from her face. “I should really just chop mine off completely. That would really drive my mom wild.” She laughed. “You’re hairs so pretty though!” Brittany protested, crossing her legs. “I hate having long hair. I hate having black hair. But you know my mom. No dyes, and no “trendy” hair cuts. She thinks if I even think of acting like a normal teenager I will lose my innocence. Too late on that.” Brittany stifled a laugh. Liz, I love you. If you make me laugh, I will kill you though. “Wonder what she would do if she found out the truth.” Brittany mused looking at her own, barely touched paper. “Are you kidding me? I’d be dead. Worse than dead.” “What’s worse than death?” Brittany uncrossed her legs, scooting forward in her seat. Her foot began to tap. “I have no idea. My mom would find out though. Speaking of lost innocence, how are things going with Daniel?” “Fine I guess.” Brittany shrugged. Her hand trembled as she tried to use her pencil to scratch some vaguely face like lines on her paper to no avail. “I think he likes me, but he doesn’t reveal anything.” “He’s so shy!” Liz laughed, making great strides on her project. “It’s cute though. He’s really sweet. I just- he’s always sweet isn’t he? Like, I can’t even imagine him being rude to anyone.” “It’s different with you though: he’s flirting.” “How can you tell? I wish he could be more obvious about it. How hard would it be for him to tell me “Hey, Brittany, shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” “I don’t think many boys recite poetry these days. Maybe chain smokers lyrics, if that counts.” “It doesn’t.” Brittany sat her pencil down. She crossed her legs at the ankle and slouched back in her seat, retrieving her phone from her pocket. She tensed and untensed her thighs. Liz flicked her eyes up at her friend. “Shouldn’t you work on your project?” I can’t. I have to peeeeeeeeeee! Brittany mentally shouted. “The creative juices just aren’t flowing.” Something else might though! Oh god, why did I have to say flowing? Now I’m thinking about rivers, and waterfalls, and rain, and the ocean, and… “I’ll just work on it tonight. Worst case scenario I just draw a meh emoji with hair.” “I actually wonder what Ms. Small would say about that. Probably comment on it being a poignant depiction of modern societies art movement. Or something.” “Probably.” Brittany agreed, rocking in her seat slightly. “Are you Ok? You look like you are uncomfortable.” “Just bored.” “You sure? You kind of look like you have to pee.” “No, just want class to end.” “So you can go pee, you mean. Right?” “I don’t need to pee.” Brittany tried to prove this point by stopping her rocking. Moments, later, however, she began to squirm her butt against her seat. “I still don’t believe you, but whatever, you do you.” Liz, gave her friend one more disbelieving look before returning to her project. Several moments of silence passed, accompanied by Brittany’s squirming becoming more obvious; though, her classmates were all too engrossed with their own work to notice, and Ms. Small was still deeply engrossed with her novel. Brittany returned her attention to her phone. Her legs bounced beneath the table. Her free hand gripped her thigh tightly while she attempted to play a game to distract herself from her predicament. If anything this is worse. Brittany groaned, as she failed for the fifteenth time at the app. Brittany’s eyes went wide at a sudden gush of wetness. She gasped audibly, drawing Liz’s attention. “You sure you don’t have to pee?” Brittany whimpered slightly, bringing her feet up on the seat, and resting her crotch on her heels. “Ok. I have to pee.” “So go pee!” “No!” Brittany responded a little too strongly. “N-not yet, at least.” “Why not? Do you really want to end up like Autumn Rose?” “Of course not.” Brittany lied. That would be so hot! “But, there’s only… five minutes left. I can make it.” “I don’t know why you even let it get to this point in the first place, but whatever.” “I’ll be fine.” Brittany was reassuring herself, as much as she was reassuring Liz. As the time ticked on, though, Brittany quickly learned what feat it would be to remain dry. Already her underwear was wet from the little she released earlier. While it didn’t show on her jeans, it wouldn’t take much more to make it obvious, especially with as light of fabric and as tight as the pair she wore was. Tentatively she reached her hand down into her lap and applied pressure to herself. Her ears burned, but she ignored Liz’s disapproval. The presence of her hand seemed to make the task much easier, and before she knew it the bell rang, signaling her freedom. The two girls left the room in a rush. “Now go to the bathroom before the janitors have another mess to clean.” Liz teased. “N-no. My house is only a couple blocks…” Brittany whimpered, waddling forward as fast as she could. “Ohhhh. I get it. You’re one of those people who can’t use public bathrooms. How did I not know that about you?” “Uh… I dunnogottagobye!” Brittany raced off as fast as her waddling legs could take her. Bent slightly at the hip, she knew she must have looked ridiculous, but she didn’t care. She had to get home! The two blocks felt like a marathon, and several times along the way sudden waves of desperation left her at a complete standstill until the urged ebbed away and she was free to shuffle on. Finally, she reached her house, and threw the door open, and slammed it shut behind her. Being home she felt the need to pee get even worse. She doubled over, placing her hand against the wall to support her and trembled violently. “Not yet. So close.” She groaned, inching her way to the bathroom. She slammed the door behind her again and struggled towards the toilet. She felt the stream coming, Her crotch felt warm. She tore her pants down, shuffled towards the toilet and sat on the porcelain heaven, decanting her guilty pleasure into its reservoir. Brittany sighed loudly as her golden flood sprayed loudly into the waters beneath her. This. Was. Heaven. When the stream finally subsided, she was still breathing heavily from the labor of holding back the flood for so long. Her eyes surveyed the damage. The lap and seat of her jeans were noticeably wet, and a small trail of pee led to the toilet, but she had, for the most part made it, and found her limit. With that knowledge she reached her hand back to her crotch, this time to relieve herself in a different way. This is actually the earliest Brittany story in her timeline that I will actually ever do, because yes, I will return to both Brittany and Autumn's world. I have a lot of plans for the two of them, and their friends. In any case, I hope you enjoyed the story, let me know what you think!
  6. This was great and so sweet! I really do enjoy the way you write your stories; it's a nice change of pace from other omorashi stories. Really good work, though I do miss your proprietary statements you used to make
  7. Hey just so you're aware, I posted a new LiS fiction. Hope you can read it sometime and let me know what you think .

     https://omorashi.org/topic/36120-protect-kate-marsh-a-life-is-strange-fiction

     

  8. Omo-secret

    Not Quite Harry Potter

    I have no idea how I missed this comment. Sorry for getting back to you so late. Unfortunately, as of right now I don't have any serious plans to return to this universe. I actually do have ideas for how the rest of the series would progress and when I first started writing this I intended to go through all seven years, but this story turned out to be a huge time drainer. Maybe one day I will be able to get back to this universe, and I'm certainly open to return if anyone would like to cowrite with me, or even let someone else take over if they liked.
  9. Omo-secret

    Not Quite Harry Potter

    Funny enough, rather than copy paste certain sections I actually typed out while I read along in the book and changed a lot of the wording so I have no excuse for having a Potter in there lol. But I am very glad that you enjoyed it!
  10. Omo-secret

    Not Quite Harry Potter

    And so the story comes to an end. Thank you to anyone who stayed with me this far, I hope you enjoyed it! “Quirrell?” Sophie gasped. “Quirrell smiled. His face wasn’t twitching at all. “Yes, it is I.” He said calmly. “I wondered whether I would run into any of your lot tonight. Though I expected that, Freehart girl I admit. “But we thought—snape—?” “Severus?” Quirrell laughed, and it wasn’t his usual quivering treble either, but cold and sharp. “You haven’t heard the stories then. I imagine not many have. He does seem like the type, though, doesn’t he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?” Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Sophie. She struggled with her wand to get it aimed at Quirrell. Quirrell had seen her vain efforts though, and plucked her wand from her hands and pocketed it. “You’re too nosy to live, unfortunately. Scurrying around the school on Halloween with your friend, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the stone.” “You let the troll in?” “Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls—you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off—and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly. “Now, wait quietly. I need to examine this interesting mirror.” It was only then that Sophie realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised. “This mirror is the key to finding the stone,” Quirrel murmured., tapping his way around the frame. “Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this… but he’s in London… I’ll be far away by the time he gets back…” All Sophie could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror. “I saw you and Snape in the forest—“ He blurted out. “Yes,” Said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me—as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side.” “Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. “I see the Stone…I’m presenting it to my master… but where is it?” Sophie struggled against her binds, but they didn’t give. She had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror. “I—Madeline, heard you a few days ago. She thought Snape was threating you.” “For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across QUirrell’s face. “Sometimes,” he said, “I find it hard to follow my master’s instructions—he is a great wizard and I am weak—“ “He was there with you?” Sophie gasped. Voldemort had infiltrated Hogwarts? “He is with me wherever I go,” Quirrel said quietly. “I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it… since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts he was most displeased. He punished me… decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me.” Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand… is the stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?” What I want more than anything else in the world, Sophie thought, is to find the Stone before Quirrell does. So if I look in the mirror, I should see myself finding it—which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realizing what I’m up to? She tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around her ankles were too tight: she tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored her. He was still talking to himself. “What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Sophie’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the girl… Use the girl…” Quirrell pulled Sophie from the ground. “Yes—Evelyn—come here.” He clapped his hands once, and ropes binding her fell off. “Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.” Sophie struggled against Quirrell’s surprisingly strong grip. I must lie. I will look, and lie and… and yeah… Sophie saw her reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at her. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket—and as it did so, Sophie felt something heavy drop into her real pocket. Somehow—incredibly—she’d gotten the stone. Sophie thanked whatever wizard God that existed for the simple fact that she had thought to wear pants that day. “Well?” Said Quirrell impatiently. “What do you see?” Sophie steeled herself. “I… I am accepted in my home town—I am…I’m not an outcast anymore.” Sophie relayed what she had seen in the mirror that night which felt so long ago. Quirrell cursed. He shoved Sophie aside. “Get out of the way,” he said. Sophie stumbled, she could still feel the Stone in her pocket. Her eyes darted towards the door. Could she make a break for it? “She lies!” A sharp, cold voice cried. “Get back here!” Quirrell shouted, grabbing Sophie again. “Tell the truth! What do you see?” The unnatural voice spoke again. “Let me speak to her… face to face.” “Master you are not strong enough!” “I have strength enough… for this…” Sophie felt as if Devil’s Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn’t move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell’s head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot. Sophie would have screamed, but she couldn’t make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most terrible face Sophie had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. “Sophie…Evelyn?” It whispered. Sophie tried to take a step backward but couldn’t get her legs to move. “See what I have become?” The face said. “Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another’s body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds… Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks… you saw faithful QUirrell drinking it for me in the forest… and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own… Now… why don’t you tell us what you really see in that mirror.” Sophie trembled as she stared into the mirror. One option left. “I-I see a toilet. I see myself making it to the toilet.” She cried out. Willingly, she released the contents of her bladder into her pants. For a moment nothing happened, despite her multiple accidents her bladder was not accustomed to being willed to release into her pants. Finally, though, a golden stream gushed out of her. She whimpered softly, as the warmth spread across her legs, soaking the fabric of her jeans. Sophie sighed as the pressure from her bladder dissolved into the golden spray that fell onto the stone floor beneath her. “She is pathetic…useless…” Voldemort sneered. “Kill her… Quirrell…” Quirrell turned back to Sophie. He raised his wand above her head. Sophie gasped and held out her hands before her. “Expelliarmus!” Quirrell stumbled back as scarlet light crashed into his chest. His wand was torn from his hand and soared across the room into… Snape’s hand! “Snape!” Quirrell swore. “Traitor!” Voldemort howled. “You will not harm this child.” “You cannot stop me!” Quirrell lunged towards Sophie. “Sectumsempra!” Snape called out. Quirrell fell back, blood instantly rising from the deep wound across his torso. He fell to the ground… seemingly dead. “I trust you aren’t harmed? Did he—“ “I am still here, Severus.” Quirrell pushed himself to his feet. Sophie jumped back. Quirrell’s face was blank, his eyes held no light. “No, not Quirrell.” The voice spoke coldly. Quirrell’s body turned to reveal Voldemort’s face, still very much alive. It seemed he was even stronger now, and in control. Quirrel’s hands pulled Sophie’s wand from his pocket, then bent backwards, to accommodate Voldemort. “You betrayed me, Severus. Killed me. This travesty,” Voldemort gestured to Quirrell’s body, Quirrell’s arms cracked as they bent at odd angles to accomplish this task, “Is your doing. It is time I pay back, that insult.” Voldemort took the moment to regard Sophie’s wand. “Ebony… what is the core?” He demanded. “D-dragon heartstring.” Sophie murmured. “Yes, this will do.” He sneered. Both Snape and Voldemort raised their wands. In unison the called out the same curse. “Avada Kedavra!” Sophie was blinded by the brilliant green light and thrown backwards by the powerful curse. She was unconscious before she crashed back to the ground. Something gold glittered just above her. Sophie blinked. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. She blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him. “Good afternoon, Sophie.” Said Dumbledore. Sophie stared at him, then remembered. “Sir the Stone! Quirrell—Snape!” “Calm yourself, dear girl, you are a little behind the times.” Said Dumbledore. Quirrell did not get the stone.” “What about Snape?” Sophie asked. Dumbledore sighed. “I fear that professor Snape is no longer with us… he sacrificed himself to defeat Voldemort.” “You mean… Voldemort is dead?” “I fear his no more dead now, than he was eleven years ago.” Dumbledore shook his head. “But...” Sophie began, but didn’t know what she was going to say. “Voldemort said Snape betrayed him. Everyone else says that Snape was one of Voldemort’s agents…” “I believe it is time that people learned the truth. Voldemort disappeared mysteriously eleven years ago. No one knew how… No one save, a small, secretive group of people. Snape was one of Voldemort’s agents. That is, until Voldemort made the mistake of killing the Potter family. Snape… he cared for that family… when they were killed he turned on Voldemort and killed him. We hid this secret from the public, so that none of Voldemort’s old followers would attack Snape. Unfortunately, it seems Voldemort has found some means to live beyond death, without the Stone.” “He will come back?” Sophie asked. “Yes. I fear we have not seen the last of him.” “Professor. You use Voldemort’s name without concern. Everyone else is afraid of it…” “Always use the proper name of things, Sophie. Fear of the name increases the fear of the thing itself.” “Alright… but what about the Stone?” “It was destroyed.” Dumbledore admitted. “Destroyed? But what about Nicholas Flammel?” “Oh you know about Nicolas?” Said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted. “You did do the thing properly, didn’t you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it’s all for the best.” “But that means he and his wife will die, won’t they?” “They have enough Elixer stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes they will die.” Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Sophie’s face. “To one as young as you, I’m sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want. The two things most human beings would choose above all—the trouble is; humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.” “Sir… there is something I’ve wondered about for some time now.” “Yes, Ms. Evelyn?” “Do you… do you know who sent me the invisibility cloak?” “Ah, yes. That was me. It was left in my possession some time ago, by a very brave and kind person. Unfortunately, he passed away before I could return it. I thought, though, that it might be most beneficial to you.” “Why me?” Sophie asked. “Ah, that I cannot answer at this time.” “Well… perhaps could you tell me why I was able to get the Stone out of the mirror?” “AH, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone—find it, but not use it—would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes… Now, enough questions. Though I would like to compliment your scar. I quite like scars, they can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.” “What scar?” Sophie asked surprised. “Why this one of course.” Dumbldore said, presenting her with a mirror. Sophie looked into the looking glass and saw what Dumbledore was referring to: a lightning bolt shaped scar on her forehead. The End
  11. Omo-secret

    Not Quite Harry Potter

    “A centaur saved you?” Madeline asked incredulously as the trio walked towards the lake, having finally made it through their exams. “Yeah. His name was Firenze. His friends didn’t like it too much though.” Sophie shrugged. “We’ve been through this too many times.” “Yeah, but… centaurs?” Madeline squinted. “I’m a muggleborn… shouldn’t I be the one to be in disbelief.” “Well… it’s not in the nature of centaurs to save someone.” Lizzie interjected. “They are more…” “Selfish.” Madeline grunted. “They are ridiculously smart or something but don’t ever tell you anything.” “They said Mars is bright.” Sophie said. “Whatever that means.” “Ronan and Bane said the same thing.” Lizzie muttered. “Those are the two who talked to you and Hagrid, right?” Madeline asked. “Yeah. I saw them too. They were the ones who were mad that Firenze saved me.” Sophie nodded. “I think it’s a warning.” Lizzie muttered. “A warning of what?” Madeline inquired. “The philosopher’s stone!” Sophie cried. “That thing I saw in the woods…. It had to be Voldemort or something!” “Snape.” Madeline said defiantly. “I know it.” “Yeah, but how is… Snape or Voldemort? Going to get past Fluffy?” Lizzie asked. “Hagrid wouldn’t betray Dumbledore.” Sophie agreed. “He wouldn’t just tell someone how to get past Fluffy—Unless… unless someone just so happens to have a dragon for sale, who coincidentally runs into our games keeper who has been wanting one.” “Oh my… how haven’t we thought of this before?” Madeline cried. “We need to get to Hagrid now.” The trio departed from the lazy shores of the lake to the half giant’s hut. The girls had replaced their calm demeanors for more excited and frenzied ones. Both Sophie and Lizzie seemingly forgot their resolutions to not meddle. When they got to Hagrid’s house they found him in an armchair outside his house shelling peas into a large bowl. “Hullo,” he said, smiling. “Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?” “We have something to ask you.” Madeline ignored Hagrid’s pleasantries. “Wha did the stranger you got Norbert from look like?” “Dunno,” Hagrid said casually, “he wouldn’ take his cloak off.” He raised an eyebrow at their stunned reactions. “It’s not that unusal, yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog’s Head—that’s the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.” “What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?” “Mighta come up,” said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. “Yeah… he asked what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here… He asked what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here… He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after.. so I told him… and’ I said what I’d always really wanted was a dragon… an’ then… I can’ remember too well, ‘cause he kept buyin’ me drinks… Let’s see… yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an’ we could play cards fer it if I wanted… but he had ter be sure I could handle it, e didn’ want it ter go ter any old home… so I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…” “And did he seem interested in Fluffy?” Madeline asked. “Well—yeah—how many three-headed dogs d’yeah meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus’ play him a bit o’ music an’ he’ll go straight off ter sleep—“ Hagrid looked suddenly horrified. “Shouldn’ta told yeh that!” He blurted out. “Forget I said it! Hey—where’re yeh goin’?” “We need to get to Dumbledore now!” Sophie declared, leading the charge to the headmaster’s house. “Where exactly is Dumbledore’s office?” Lizzie asked as the entered the castle. It suddenly dawned on the girls that they had no idea how to get to Dumbledore’s office or anyone who did. “What are you three doing inside?” McGonagall called across the hall. “We want to see professor Dumbledore.” Lizzie spoke up. “See Professor Dumbledore?” McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. “Why?” “It’s sort of secret,” Sophie gulped, as her words caused the Professor’s nostrils to flare. “Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” she said coldly. “He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.” “He’s gone?” Sophie asked frantically. “Now?” “Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demans on his time—“ “But this is important.” Sophie cried. “Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Evelyn?” “Look,” said Madeline boldly. “Long story short: philosopher’s stone. Yeah we know about it. We also know it’s in danger.” The books that McGonagall had been carrying until now, fell out of her arms. “I don’t… I don’t care for your tone, Freehart.” McGonagall tried to retain her composure but obviously was taken off guard by what Madeline had said. “That’s not what’s important here. We need to protect the stone.” “Rest assured, Miss Freehart, no one can possibly steal it, it’s too well protected. I suggest you all go outside and enjoy the sunlight. Should I find you in here again, or anywhere near the third floor I will not hesitate to punish the lot of you.” And with that the Professor departed. “It’s tonight.” Madeline muttered once McGonagall was gone. “Snape probably sent that note to Dumbledore himself so that Dumbledore couldn’t stop him. We need to stop him.” “How can we do—“ Lizzie gasped suddenly. Sophie and Madeline turned around to find Snape looming before them. “Good afternoon.” He said smoothly. The girls could only gape in reply. “You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he said, with an odd, twisted smile. “uh…” Madeline stuttered, for once caught without something to say. “You want to be more careful,” said Snape. “Hanging around like this, people will think you’re up to something. I would hate for my own house to lose any more points.” Sophie bowed her head and the trio began to depart. “Be warned, Evelyn—any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you.” He strode off in the direction of the staffroom. Defeated Lizzie went off to the Ravenclaw commons and both Slytherin girls made their way to Slytherin dungeon. “We have to stop him.” Madeline urged her friend. “How can we possibly do that?” Sophie slumped her shoulders. Fortunately, the Slytherin girl had a pleasant surprise when she discovered the invisibility cloak left on her bed with a note that read: Just in case. “You didn’t think I would let you go on your own, did you?” Lizzie asked as the two girls exited the Slytherin dungeon later that night. “How did you get here?” Sophie whispered. “Very carefully. Now let’s not push our luck, let me in that cloak.” Once all three girls were safely hidden beneath the invisibility cloak they shuffled off to the third floor. They arrived to find the door already open. “Snape’s already been here.” Madeline declared, leading the charge into the room. At their approach all three of Fluffy’s heads sniffed around, trying to find the invisible intruders. “What’s that at its feet?” Sophie asked. “A… harp. Music. Brilliant. I don’t suppose anyone thought to bring a musical instrument to put Fluffy to sleep.” Madeline groaned. “I-I can sing.” Elizabeth declared boldly. She threw the cloak off the three of them and began to vocalize to the rhythm of some sort of lullaby. Amazingly the behemoth before them almost instantly fell asleep. Madeline was the first to make a dash for the trapdoor. “It’s a hole. I can’t see anything down there. I think we are going to need to jump.” Madeline stated moments before making said jump. “Maddie!” Sophie cried, hurrying to the trapdoor. “Hey, Sophie!” Madeline called up, much to Sophie’s delight. “Thank God. What is it?” “Well there isn’t a china set down here. Er, I seem to be on some sort of plant. I guess it’s supposed to break the fall? Anyway, come down here.” “Alright, I’m coming.” Sophie leaped in after her friend. Stopping to sing only long enough to make the jump, Elizabeth followed after. “Thank goodness this plant is here to break our fall.” Sophie mumbled. “Thank goodness? Look at you!” Elizabeth struggled to break free of snakelike vines that curled around her ankles. For Sophie and Madeline it was already too late; creepers had already curled around them without them having noticed. Sophie struggled desperately against the deadly plant. “What is this?” “I’m pretty sure someone’s fantasy somewhere.” Madeline growled in reply. “It’s devil’s snare.” Lizzie called to her struggling friends. “What do we do?” Madeline asked. “Uh… a fire, I think we need to light a fire.” Lizzie called out. “Alright well why don’t you look for firewood and we’ll just die here till then.” Madeline spat, wrestling against the vines. “Haha.” Lizzie rolled her eyes, summoning a blue ball of flame that quickly devoured the plants. “Thanks.” Sophie panted once she was free of the plant. “Alright, this way then?” Madeline asked leading them down a stone corridor. “You don’t take much time to get over nearly dying.” Lizzie muttered. “Par for the course for what I’m sure is the first of many adventures.” “I certainly hope not.” Lizzie grumbled. The girls emerged in a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door. “What are those things?” Sophie asked, half expecting them to dive bomb them and rip them to shreds. “One way to find out!” Madeline cried. The reckless blonde took off in a sprint towards the door, covering her head from an attack that never came. “Well they aren’t attacking.” Madeline called from the other side of the room. She tried the door, only to find it locked. “Guys, I think they’re keys.” Lizzie called, staring at the ceiling. Sophie looked up at the fluttering things and realized Lizzie was right, they were winged keys. There were hundreds of them though; and as fast as they moved about Sophie had no idea how to tell which one would unlock the door, let alone how to get it down. “Hey, look!” Madeline called. Both her friends turned their attention to what she was gesturing towards: a broomstick. “Sophie, I’m pretty sure you are the best flyer among us.” Lizzie urged. “On it.” Sophie nodded hopping on the broom. “Any ideas on which key I’m looking for?” “Uh, well if it looks anything like the lock, it’s probably big and old fashioned, probably silver.” Madeline replied. “Got it.” Sophie nodded. She kicked off in the air and immediately began scanning the fluttering keys for the right one. There! Her eyes caught sight of a key like Madeline described, with crumpled wings, as if someone had caught it once before. Sophie launched after it, swerving through the air, swatting keys out of her face. Her pursuit of the key wasn’t a long one, and soon she had her prey. Sophie returned back to her friends and was grateful to find the key unlocked the door. The next room was designed like some sort of massive chest board with huge looming pieces in their position. Off to the side was what appeared to be the remnants of broken pieces from a previous game. “Wizard’s chest!” Madeline called. “Brilliant! I know how to win in four moves.” “I’m pretty good too, maybe I should-“ Lizzie began. “We don’t have time.” Madeline jumped on to the board, took the place of the queen and commanded the pieces to move so that she had a free shot at checkmate. Unfortunately, it seemed the other team was familiar with the maneuver. “Maddie!” Sophie cried as her friend was attacked by the opposing team’s pieces. “Don’t move!” Lizzie called out to her. “Follow my lead.” Elizabeth’s strategy was not nearly as fast as Madeline’s had boasted hers would have been, but Lizzie expertly commanded the pieces so that she and Sophie won the game without sustaining any injury. At checkmate both girls ran over to Madeline. “Are you OK?” Sophie asked. “I’m just peachy.” Madeline groaned. “Go. Stop Snape.” “What about you?” Lizzie asked. “I’m going to be sore a while, but I’ll live. Unless Voldemort comes back. Go stop him!” Madeline urged. “We’re coming back for you.” Sophie nodded and ran off towards the next room. “You very well better! I didn’t say I wanted to die here!” Madeline called after her friends as they entered the next corridor. Both girls scrunched up their nose at the foul odor permeating the air. “What is that?” Sophie asked, covering her faced with her cloak. “I think, oh wow! I’m glad we didn’t fight that thing.” Lizzie pointed at a troll at least twice as large as the one they fought in the bathroom. Fortunately, the behemoth was out cold, with a large welt on its head. “Let’s just get out of here.” Sophie ran to the next room. As soon as both girls entered the room a purple flame erupted over the doorway behind them. Across the room, a black flame spread in front of the doorway to the next rom. In the center of the room was a table with seven bottles and a note on top of it. “Snape’s test.” Sophie mumbled as she approached the table. Danger lies before you while safety lies behind Two of us will help you, whichever you would find, One among us seven will let you move ahead, Another will transport the drinker back instead, Two among our number hold only nettle win Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore, To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side; Second, different are those who stand at either end, But if you would move onward, neither is your friend Third, as you see clearly, all are different size, Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; Fourth, the second left and the second on the right Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight. “A logic puzzle?” Sophie asked. “That’s neat. What do you think? She asked Lizzie. “Hm, seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will take us back, and one will take us forward.” Elizabeth hummed as she read the note a few more times. “Alright got it!” She cried grabbing the smallest bottle. “This one will get us forward… only there is only enough for one of us to get through.” Sophie thought on that for a few moments. She knew if Madeline were here she would have gulped the potion down already and ran to go face down Voldemort. “Alright, which one takes us back?” Sophie asked. “This one.” Elizabeth held up another bottle. “Alright, you need to go back, get Madeline and send an owl for Dumbledore. I will go on ahead.” “Are you sure?” Lizzie asked. “Positive. Now go!” Lizzie nodded and drank her potion, and returned for Madeline. Once she was gone, Sophie drank her own potion. It was like ice consumed her body. She braced herself as she entered the black flames, and for a moment she was blind, until she emerged into the other room. Who she saw was neither Snape, nor Voldemort. We are in the finale stretch guys. Just one more chapter.
  12. Omo-secret

    Not Quite Harry Potter

    Thank you very much for the feedback! “Guys!” Madeline called, running into the great hall towards her friends. “I have something to tell you!” “What?” Elizabeth mumbled disinterested. Her hair was a muted teal color and her eyes unfocused. “I think the stone is in danger.” Madeline’s face shared a mixture of dread and intrigue, unable to satisfy her taste for adventure. “The stone? Maddie…” Sophie began. “I saw Snape threaten Quirrel and Quirrel told him how to get past his trap.” “You saw that?” Sophie raised a disbelieving eye brow. “Well not exactly. I heard Quirrel have a break down and tell somebody something. I know it’s Snape though.” “Let’s just…” Sophie shook her head. “Drop it I guess. It’s not any of our business.” “Not any of our business? Blimey, Sophie! The world could be at stake.” “We already meddled enough.” Sophie complained. “Meddling? We helped save Hagrid and a baby dragon. I’m sorry you lost a couple points…” “Fifty points. We just gave Gryffindor the lead for the first time in I don’t know how many years. I thought Slytherins hated me before…” “Forget it. It’s not important!” “No! The stupid rock isn’t important. Snape isn’t evil! There isn’t any stupid conspiracy! Maddie you are just getting excited over nothing. Drop it.” Lizzie cried. Her hair a bright mixture of fiery red, and teal. Madeline was shocked at her friend’s sudden eruption and quietly excused herself, blushing all the way. Not long after Madeline left than both remaining girls got letters confirming their detention. At eleven that night Sophie met Lizzie and the two of them met with Filch and Chrystal. Surprisingly the caretaker led the girls out of the castle, lecturing them the entire time about the importance of punishment and what a shame it was the old punishments were no longer in use. Even more surprising was when Filch led the girls to Hagrid’s hut. Sophie let out a sigh of relief. Detention with Hagrid would at least be more bearable than with Filch. Sophie was willing to bet loads of things were better than detention with Filch. Like babysitting Norbert, or the Salem witch trials. “I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again—its into the forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” Chrystal froze in her tracks. “B-but they say they’re werewolves in the forest.” Her face was pale white. Lizzie whimpered. “Werewolves?” “That’s your problem isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. “Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?” Hagrid emerged from his hut toting a large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder, and Fang at his side. “Abou’ time. I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, girls?” “I shouldn’t be too friendly to them, Hagrid,” said Filch, coldly, “They’re here to be punished, after all.” “That’s why yer late, is it?” Hagrid frowned. “Bin lecturin’ them, eh? ‘snot your place ter do that. Yeh’ve done yer bit, I’ll take over from here.” “I’ll be back at dawn… for what’s left of them.” Filch replied nastily, and he turned and started back towards the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness. “Are we really going into the forest?” Chrystal turned to Hagrid with wide eyes. “Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwart,” “That’s absurd! We should be copying lines or something. Not risking our lives because we stayed out late.” “Copyin’ lines!” Hagrid bellowed. “What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think the forest is too dangerous then get back off ter the caslte an’ pack. Go on! That’s how it is at Hogwarts, don’t like it yer welcome ter leave.” Chrystal didn’t move. She glared at Hagrid furiously, only to drop her gaze. “Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight, an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forst. “Look there,” said Hagrid, “see that stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silver stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might haver ter put it out of its misery.” “What about the thing that hurt the unicorn?” Chrystal shuddered. “What ‘bout it?” Hagrid looked back at her. “Well… what if it comes after us?” Chrystal whimpered. “There’s nothin’ that lives in the forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,” said Hagrid. “An’ keep ter the path. Right, now, we’re gonna split inter two parties an’ follow the trail in a diff’rent directions. There’s blood all over the place, it must’ve bin staggerin’ around since last night at least.” “I want the dog.” Chrystal declared, measuring up Fang’s long teeth. Sophie assumed that one of them would need to go with Chrystal and judging by Lizzie’s meek demeanor Sophie would need to step up. “Me too.” Sophie sighed. “All right, but I warn yeh, he’s a coward,” said Hagrid. “Now, if any of us finds the unicorn we’ll send up green sparks, right?” Get year wands out an’ practice now—that’s it—an’ if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an’ we’ll all come an’ find yeh—so, be careful—lets got.” The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Hagrid led Chrystal down the left path, while Sophie, Chrystal, and Fang took the right path. Chrystal pouted the better half of an hour before Sophie couldn’t stand it any longer. “What is wrong with you?” “What’s wrong with me?” Chrystal sneered. “Well you for one.” “What did I do to you that made you so angry?” “Oh like you care. You little Slytherin bi-“ “Stuff it with this stupid house rivalry thing. The Slytherins don’t even like me, anyways.” “Probably because you are there resident pants wetter.” Sophie’s ears burned. “You wet your pants too!” She cried. “S-shut up!” Chrystal drew her wand. “Not until you give me a straight answer.” Sophie knocked Chrystal’s wand from her hand. “You think I’m so stupid, because I’m a hufflepuff right?” Chrystal grabbed her wand from the ground. “I don’t care what house you are!” “That’s not what you said the first day!” Chrystal shoved Sophie. “I didn’t know what I was talking about. I was just trying to fit in!” Sophie shoved Chrystal. “Oh, I bet. Just because I’m a dumb halfblood, practically a mudblood, doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” “You literally just called yourself dumb!” “That’s not what I meant!” Chrystal shouted leaping at Sophie until the both were rolling on the ground in a frenzy. “This is stupid!” Sophie cried between blows. “Why would I care? I’m a muggleborn.” This proclamation froze Chrystal. “What?” Chrystal blinked. “I’m a muggle born.” Sophie said, calming down. “I—is that…?” Sophie followed Chrystal’s gaze to the mangled equine body a short distance from the two of them. The two girls untangled themselves and rose to their feet to get a better look at the dead unicorn. Sophie had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs stuck out at odd angles where it fell. It’s pearly white mane spread out across dead leaves. Both girls froze in their approach at a slithering sound. Ahead a bush quivered, and a dark robed figure came crawling out, like some stalking beast, towards the unicorn. It lowered its head and began to drink the silver blood. Faintly Sophie heard something trickle, and was only just able to tear her gaze away and look for the source. It took her a moment to realize the shimmery darkness that spread across Chrystal’s light jeans was Chrystal wetting herself. Still in shock at the sight of the figure not too far away, Sophie could only stare at the golden puddle that washed across the dead leaves, and the dirt floor where it seeped into the ground. Sophie raised her gaze—pee still streamed down Chrsytal’s trembling legs—and turned her attention to Chrystal herself. Before Sophie could break away from the fogginess of her terrified mind and get Chrystal’s attention, Chrystal screamed. The cloaked figure’s head jerked towards the two girls in an unnatural, snappy motion. Sophie stood, transfixed and was only vaguely aware that Chrystal and Fang had fled, leaving her alone. The dark figure rose to its feet, silver blood dribbling down its front, and glided towards Sophie. Sophie heard hooves behind her, galloping and something bounded over her, charging at the figure. Sophie staggered back, and when she regained her composure something stood before her. At first she assumed it was a man riding a horse, but realized that from the waist down, the man was the horse. “W-what are you?” “I am the centaur Firenze.”
  13. Omo-secret

    Not Quite Harry Potter

    Sophie obeyed Dumbledore’s wishes and didn’t seek out the mirror. After the first few days following her last visit, the mirror slowly drifted to a distant thought and her attention once again returned to the man named Flamel. Though Sophie was still doubtful of Snape’s alleged guilt, she found herself more and more enthralled in Madeline’s investigation. It wasn’t until Lizzie returned that they had discovered anything of worth. It was shortly after she had returned that the three girls were gathered on the school grounds. Huddled up next to a blue ball of fire that Lizzie had conjured. Sophie had just opened the package to a chocolate frog when she nearly jumped out of her seat, her chocolate frog leaping away to freedom. “Honestly, you still do that? They aren’t real frogs.” Madeline sighed. “No. You don’t understand.” Sophie mumbled. “Look.” She showed her two friends the character on the card, accompanying the frog. “Dumbledore? So?” Madeline asked. “Read what is says underneath.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “’Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel’! Alchemy? Oh my gosh!” Elizabeth squealed. “Come on!” Lizzie led her two friends to the library where she retrieved a large, dusty black book. She slammed the book on the table and shifted through it until she found what she was looking for. “Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s stone!” She whisper yelled. “The what?” Sophie tilted her head. “It’s a magic artifact. It lets you turn anything into gold, and” Lizzie met the eyes of both her friends, “Let’s you live forever.” “That’s why Snape wants it!” Madeline snapped her fingers. “That doesn’t sound like Snape.” Sophie mumbled softly, but both her friends ignored her. “We need to go see Hagrid!” Madeline declared. Without waiting for another word, she led the dash down the rolling green hill towards the Game Keepers hut. The trio only stopped once they reached his door, all of them out of breath. Madeline rapped on the door sharply while the other two girls leaned over, panting. “Hagrid, we need to talk to you about-“ Madeline began the moment the door opened, only to stop when she caught a glimpse of the object in the fire place. “What is that?” Hagrid’s face went white. “You were not meant to see that.” He gasped. “Is that what I think it is?” Elizabeth asked. “A dragon egg.” Madeline mumbled, pushing past Hagrid to get into the hut. “Dragons?” Sophie asked. “Er, well yes. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone ‘bout this.” “Obviously. Dragons are illegal to keep.” Madeline muttered, admiring the black egg in the fireplace. She jumped when the egg began to crack. “It’s hatching!” Lizzie exclaimed, joining Madeline by the fire place. “Blimey! I’m gonna be a mother!” Hagrid cried as he pushed past the girls and grasped the hot egg from the fireplace and set it on the table, moments before the egg split open. What emerged wasn’t exactly pretty; it rather resembled a crumpled black umbrella. Long spiny wings looked ridiculously disproportionate to the dragon’s skinny jet body. It had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes. It sneezed and out came orange sparks. “Isn’t he beautiful?” Hagrid cooed. He reached to stroke the dragon’s head, when it snapped at his fingers, revealing its pointed fangs. “Bless him, knows his mommy.” “Where did you get him? Elizabeth asked, admiring the dragon. “Won it.” Hagrid said absently as he nursed the dragon hatchling. “A few nights ago I was down havin’ drinks an’ got in a card game with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” “How do you know how to take care of it?” Madeline asked, nearly as mystified as Elizabeth and Hagrid. “I did some readin’ learned a thing or two about takin’ care of them. This one here is a Norwegian Ridgeback.” “Of course you did.” Madeline laughed softly. “Hagrid you live in a wood house!” Hagrid was about to reply when his face went white again. He leaped up and ran to the window. “What? What is it?” Sophie followed the gamekeeper to the window. She didn’t need an answer though. Even from the distance it was easy to make out her appearance. Crystal had seen the dragon. Something about the smirk that etched itself into Crystal’s face mad the trio uneasy. Throughout the week they made their best cases for Hagrid to get rid of the dragon before it ruined him. “Just let him go.” Sophie urged. “He’s a dragon he should be fine on his own. There have got to be wild dragons right?” “I can’t.” Hagrid shook his head. “He’s still too little. He’d die.” The trio glanced at Hagrid’s draconic ward. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn’t been doing his game keeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor. “I’ve took to calling him Norbert,” Hagrid said, looking at Norbert with misty eyes. “He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where’s Mommy?” “He’s losing it.” Madeline whispered. Sophie hit her side. “Lizzie, your dad is some sort of magizoologist right?” “A hunter, yeah! And he’s know how to get him somewhere safe!” It took some convincing but eventually Hagrid agreed to let the trio work on getting Norbert safely displaced. After a week it was finally decided that some colleagues of Elizabeth’s father would come and relocate Norbert to Romania. Another week passed and finally the night had come. The trio would need to sneak the dragon to the top of the tallest tower at Hogwarts. Sophie and Lizzie wondered the school grounds alone, as Madeline had somehow broken her arm that had nothing to do with an attempt to threaten Chrystal into secrecy. “It occur to me that we haven’t put much thought in how we even get a dragon to the top of the tower.” Elizabeth’s cried. “I thought it was assumed we would be using my invisibility cloak.” Sophie shrugged. “You have an invisibility cloak?” Elizabeth perked up immediately. “Uh yeah. You didn’t know that? It seems like something I totally would have brought up before now…” Sophie mumbled absent mindedly. “Well you didn’t!” Lizzie cried. “How long have you had it?” “Uh, I got in for Christmas.” “That’s brilliant! From who?” “I dunno. Santa I guess.” “Sophie… Santa isn’t a real person.” “Seriously? We are using an invisibility cloak to sneak a dragon up to the tallest tower in a castle school that teaches witchcraft and wizardry and you can’t suspend your disbelief enough to accept that a fat man in a red suit delivers presents to Santa.” “Well… yeah. Santa isn’t real.” “You’re not real!” Sophie pouted. “Uh… Ok. So the dragon?” If you were there that dark and cloudy night you wouldn’t see two girls struggling to lug a crate containing a Norwegian Ridgeback up a tall tower. You might, however, hear said Norwegian Ridgeback tear the teddy bear, that Hagrid felt necessary to pack, to shreds. “Norbert, hush.” Sophie whispered. “Shh.” Lizzie hissed. “Don’t tell me, tell him. I’m going to kill that giant. Who buys a dragon?” “Just be quiet.” “Why? Norbert isn’t.” “If Norbert jumped off a bridge-“ “He’s a dragon! If he jumped off a bridge, I’d run before he took flight and came back to devour me.” “Whatever just… Sh!” The girl’s arms ached by the time they were finally able to rest the crate on the top of the tower. Both girls collapsed to the ground, casting the cloak aside. Not long after four broomsticks carrying four wizards arrived. The leader of the group, Charlie shook hands with both girls and showed them the harness they rigged to suspend the crate between the four of them. Before long they vanished and Norbert was finally gone. In their elation the girls ran down all the steps, happy to be free of their fire breathing burden at last. “Well, Miss Blake, it seems you were correct. We do have two other trespassers tonight.” Both girls’ faces fell at the sight of the blonde Hufflepuff and the headmistress of Gryffindor’s house. In their haste to leave the tower it seemed they had left the invisibility cloak behind. “That does not mean, though, that you are excused for being out of bed, Miss Blake. It seems the three of you will all find yourselves in detention.”
  14. Omo-secret

    Not Quite Harry Potter

    “Merry Christmas!” Madeline shouted, stirring the sleeping Sophie. “Mmm… too early.” She mumbled, pulling her blanket over her head. Madeline rolled her eyes. “It’s Christmas, it is never too early. Besides, presents.” She ripped the blankets of Sophie’s bed. “Now get up.” “Fine.” Sophie grumbled. Both her and Madeline were dressed only in nighties, and as they were the only Slytherins on campus for break, that was how they spent most of their days. Sophie was surprised to see a small mound of presents at the foot of her bed. Suddenly invigorated she jumped off her bed, though she quickly regretted it once her feet met the cold stone floor. “I guess my parents do love me.” Madeline muttered as she held a rather attractive green dress in front of her body. “Did you think they would stop loving you for being a Slytherin?” Sophie asked, opening a box of assorted wizard candy from Elizabeth. “Well, no. Alexis and Leo have been giving me the cold shoulder though.” She said as she went through unwrapping her other presents. Sophie was pleased to find that she had received a few new outfits from her parents that were thankfully, not part of the school uniform. She gazed somewhat perplexed at her last present. It didn’t specify who it was from, and was quite unusual in itself. It was a large shimmery silver cloth that was almost fluid. Holding it was like holding water that had somehow been woven into fabric. “Is that what I think it is?” Madeline raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yes. No? Maybe? What do you think it is? …Also, if it isn’t what you think it is… well I don’t know what it is.” “Cover yourself with it.” Madeline demaned. “Ok…” Sophie awkwardly draped the cloth over herself, instantly vanishing into thin air. “It is!” Madeline cried. “What?” Sophie asked. “Where are my hands? Where is my everything.” Sophie cried as she tried to see her body. “You’re invisible. It’s an invisibility cloak! Blimey! I’ve always wanted one. Well, who’s it from.” “It didn’t say.” Sophie replied. “It just said ‘use it well.’” “Another mystery.” Madeline smiled. “Yay.” Sophie rolled her eyes, taking the cloak off. After three square meals of the most delicious food they had ever eaten, Madeline was sprawled out in her bed asleep, while Sophie was left admiring her invisibility cloak. A mischievous thought crossed Sophie mind, honestly Sophie was surprised that Madeline hadn’t thought of it first. Sophie slipped out of bed, only dressed in a grey cotton nightie she pulled her invisibility cloak over her head and departed for the forbidden section of the library. Initial attempts to discover anything on the mysterious Flamel proved unsuccessful. Sophie and Madeline were sure that what they needed was in the forbidden section. Unfortunately it was impossible to gain access to its wonderful resources without permission. Something they were severely lacking. Sophie began to wish she had at least brought slippers as her bare feed plodded along the cold stone floors of the castle, but finally she arrived at the library. She grabbed a torch and crept through the dark rows of books. She stepped over the rope separating the sections. She was in the forbidden section. Sophie quickly discovered that the faded and peeling letters on the titles of the books didn’t provide much help when they all seemed to be in languages she had never seen before. Sophie might have imagined it, but it almost was as if there was a faint whisper, like the books were alive, trying to tell their stories. Sophie finally settled on a large black and silver book. She sat down and propped the book open and—a blood curdling scream made her jump. The book was screaming! Sophie dropped the lantern and slammed the book shut, shoving it away from her, yet it continued to scream. Panicking Sophie wrapped herself in her cloak and rushed out of the room. She had nearly run straight into Filch, but managed to duck under his outstretched arm. She sprinted away and only stopped when she needed to catch her breath. Looking around, Sophie realized she didn’t know where she was. Before she could figure out where she was, a voice spoke up. “You asked me to come directly to you, professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library—restricted section.” Filch! Sophie’s face went white. Wherever she was she must not have gotten far, or Filch must know a shortcut. “The restricted section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them.” Snape spoke in his drawn out, menacing way. Sophie’s eyes went wide. She might be invisible, but she wasn’t silent. Her harsh breathing would give her away. She spotted a door ajar, her only hope, and slipped into it just as Snape and Filch passed by. Sophie sighed in relief. It wasn’t until the two’s footsteps died away that Sophie noticed anything about the room she had hid in. It was some sort of unused classroom, full of desks and chairs against the wall. The most notable thing, though, was a large ornate mirror against the wall before her. The mirror was almost tall enough to touch the ceiling. It had a golden frame that stood on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved on the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Sophie moved closer to the mirror, inspecting it when the sudden appearance of people and herself in its reflection sent her reeling back. When she turned around no body was there. It took her a moment to realize she shouldn’t even see herself in the mirror. She reached behind her—perhaps she wasn’t the only one invisible in the room—and only touched thin air. Upon closer inspection she realized the people in the mirror were from her own home town. People who had been nasty to her before, suddenly seemed friendly and even adoring of her reflection. She watched as her reflection interacted with the people in the mirror. The mirror seemed to tell her a sort of silent story, where she was adored and cherished by kids her age, by neighbors, by teachers. Sophie stood and watched her reflection play with other kids, saw herself simply get waves and smiles as she walked down the street. Sophie was shown a different world where she wasn’t despised and she was drawn into it until she felt warmth spread across her lap. Hot pee raced down her legs. Her underwear was already saturated before she realized she was wetting herself. A cascade of golden liquid crashed to the floor with a thunderous splatter. She crossed her legs, and shoved her hands into her crotch. A few streaks of pee managed to leak out, trickle down her leg and ultimately add to the golden puddle beneath her bare feet before she was able to stem the flow. Embarrassed and frightened the young Slytherin rushed away from the room and the mirror. “Hey Madeline… do you know if there is any mirror that shows you the future or something?” Sophie asked the next afternoon. “Not that I know of, but that isn’t really saying anything on that front. Why?” Sophie proceeded to tell her friend of her misadventure the night before. “You should have woken me up.” Madeline complained. “I would have gone with. Shame you didn’t find anything about Flamel though.” “Well we can go look at the mirror tonight.” Sophie suggested. That night, the dynamic duo departed from their dormitories in the dark dungeon of the castle for the magnificent mirror to presume its mysterious purpose. Beneath the cloak, they silently tread through the vacant halls without incident. Throwing of the cloak Sophie said “Here it is.” She stood before the mirror. “I just see yourself.” Madeline replied, gazing at Sophie’s normal reflection. “No look, there’s my neighbors.” Sophie stated, as she once again watched her neighbors adore her. “There’s no one there but you.” Madeline frowned. “Here stand where I’m standing. What do you see.” “I-I’m head girl!” Madeline declared. “I have the quidditch cup too and… wait I’m Gryffindor? I didn’t know you could—you can’t. Sophie… I don’t think it shows the future.” “What do you mean?” Sophie demanded. “I think—Wait what was that?” “What?” “Shh…. Come one let’s go.” Madeline pulled Sophie under the invisibility cloak with her and Sophie reluctantly followed her back to the dorms. “I don’t think we should go back.” Madeline said the next afternoon. “Why not?” Sophie frowned. “It just… Something isn’t right about that mirror.” Madeline shook her head. “Come on. Let’s go play in the snow.” Sophie followed her friend outside but was only halfhearted in her snow ball throwing. Her mind was on the mirror and she much rather be in that room with it, than outside in the cold. Perhaps that is why once night fell she snuck off once again, to visit the mirror alone. Sophie practically ran to the mirror. She knew she was making more noise than was wise, but she was fortunate not to run in to anybody. Instead she once again made her way in front of the mirror and took a seat on the ground. She was content to remain before the mirror, watching a future without hate unfold before her. “So—Back again, Sophie?” Sophie jumped out of her skin. She slowly turned around to face the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. In her desperation to see the mirror, she must have run straight past him. “I-I didn’t see you, sir.” She bowed her head in shame. “Strange how being invisible can make you so nearsighted.” He chuckled. Sophie slowly cast her gaze upward and was relieved to see the headmaster smiling. “So,” Dumbledore took a seat on the ground with Sophie, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t know it was called that, sir.” “But I expect you’ve realized by now what it does?” Sophie shook her head. “It shows me things. Nice things.” She mumbled shyly. “Such as your town accepting you, and your friend Madeline succeeding as a Gryffindor.” “How did you know that?” Sophie asked, astonished. “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible.” Said Dumbledore gently. “H-have you been here all three nights.” Sophie blushed, thinking back to her accident on the first night. “I believe we can keep that little, accident between us two. Now, can you think of what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?” “It shows us the impossible.” Sophie grumbled glumly. “Not necessarily, no. Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Dumbledore offered. “It shows us what we want?” “Yes, and no.” Dumbledore said quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have only ever been ostracized, see yourself finding acceptance. Madeline Freehart, who feels she has failed her family by being sorted in Slytherin, sees herself being both the best of her siblings and a Gryffindor. However, this mirror will neither give us knowledge, or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what is shows is real, or even possible.” “The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Sophie, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don’t you put on that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?” Sophie stood up. “Sir—professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?” “Obviously, you’ve just done so,” Dumbledore smiled. “You may ask me one more thing however.” “Why do you suppose the sorting hat put me and Madeline in Slytherin?” “Hmm… Well I suppose it believes this is where you are likely to succeed.” “But Madeline’s family all were in Gryffindor. And I—well I’m a muggle born.” “I once knew a boy who had the opposite problem of Madeline. Perhaps one day it might do you well to meet him, when the time is right of course. Though, you may not want to meet him till you have met him. As for you, Slytherin’s are not defined by their blood, but their convictions.” Dumbledore turned to leave. Pausing at the door. “And remember Sophie, you are not alone.”
  15. Omo-secret

    Brittany's Bursting Bladder

    I do have story plans for Brittany's earlier incidents. It will just be some time before I get them written out.