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Lost Legacy Year 1 Chapter 8

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Year One: Chapter Eight
The Honking Daffodil


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The school grounds became chillier as the leaves continued to fall from the trees. The skies were no longer their bright blue, but a dreary gray with dark impending clouds. Many students studied together by the Great Lake for the last few tolerable days of the year, before the weather took a final turn for the worst and they couldn't stand the bitter cold of the grounds anymore. Everyone was bundled up in scarves, coats, and hats to fight off the chill in the air. Every once in a while, a few lucky student would catch a glimpse of the Giant Squid or a merperson swimming by in the lake.

Life inside the castle walls had shifted as well. The professors must have figured that because of the colder weather outside, the students would be spending more of their time indoors and therefore have more time to do homework. So that's just what they gave them. More essays and assignments to fill up time. Professor Rankin in fact had just assigned them a two and a half foot essay on double-ended newts that Monday, something James planned to procrastinate on until later.

James had meant to ask Remus's opinion on the fiery creatures, but the kid had been really tired and run down the entire day. He even slept through their whole History of Magic lesson, something he would normally never do. James had noted that he had sick spells ever couple weeks or so, so it wasn't anything out of the norm for him. James decided that he wouldn't pester him with insignificant questions about schoolwork when their lessons were over that afternoon.

Sirius left them when lessons were done to see Professor Sprout about his additional assignment. When he was gone, James suggested to Remus that he visit Madame Pomfrey in the Infirmary. Remus insisted stubbornly that he was feeling fine, if a bit under the weather. He barely managed to eat anything for dinner in the Great Hall, which was also odd. Usually, he would eat more than any of the other first-year Gryffindor boys, including Pettigrew. When they returned to their dormitory later that afternoon, he slipped into his sleepwear and crawled into bed early without completing any of his homework assignments. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

James was copying Remus's older History of Magic notes when Sirius returned to their dormitory. He slammed the door shut so hard, James was sure the entire Tower shook from the force. Sirius held a simple pot with a single yellow flower growing in it. Strange, James had been certain that he would have received a monstrous plant to care for. What was the catch? "What is that?" he asked, setting aside the boring notes.

Sirius ignored his question. "Where should I put it?"

James shrugged. "Dunno…your beside table or the windowsill ought to do," he suggested.

Sirius scoffed at him. "I'm not putting this stupid thing on my nightstand!" He shook his head. Suddenly an earsplitting honking noise rung through the entire room. James jumped a foot in the air, covering his ears. Was it just him, or had that honk come from the daffodil in Sirius's hands? Apparently it had objected to being called stupid.

"Shut up, you!" Sirius shouted down to plant.

HONK!
"What is that thing, Sirius?" James repeated his question after he uncovered his ears.

Sirius let out a frustrated growl before responding, "It's a honking daffodil. It's basically the same as a regular daffodil, except that this little bugger will honk your ears off when it needs something."

HONK!

"What is your problem?" Sirius yelled. The plant turned its flower head up, almost as if to glare indignantly at Sirius. So the feelings of dislike were mutual then….

"I don't think it appreciates the name-calling," James tried in vain to hide his snicker behind his hand.

"Oh ha ha, very funny," Sirius rolled his eyes. "Seriously, what the hell am I going to do with this thing," he glared down at the plant. "Sprout expects this thing to be in perfect health by the week's end. How am I supposed to manage that? I don't know the first thing about plants!"

James shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. "Well they need water, don't they? Water and sun. Maybe you should put it on the windowsill."

"No way. That's too close to my bed," Sirius ignored James's suggestions and instead set the potted plant on the floor in between them. They both stared down at it in a confused stupor, not sure what they should do next. Sirius's head fell into his hands. "I'm doomed, aren't I?" he moaned pitifully into his hands. James couldn't do much more than sigh and nod in agreement. The plant gave another loud honk like a blow horn, making both of them jump and look at it. It lifted its flower head, almost as if to look at them, and then honked again. Remus moaned loudly into his pillow.

Sirius lifted his head from his hands at a sudden epiphany. "Remus…. Hey Remus!" Before James could warn him that Remus was desperately trying to rest, Sirius had quickly crossed the length of their dormitory to his four-poster bed, and pulled the curtains wide open. Remus moaned again at the sunlight bleeding through, disturbing his sleep. He buried his head beneath his pillow. "You're smart, right? You'd know how to take care of a plant, right?"

Remus muttered something that sounded suspiciously like water and sunlight, before telling Sirius to bugger off.

Sirius rolled his eyes, but reclosed the curtains. "A lot of help you were," he responded sardonically.

HONK!

"What did I say to it now?" Sirius said exasperatedly, throwing his arms into the air.

James shrugged and muttered, "Nothing."

Sirius pulled at his long hair, appearing quite deranged. "I can't do this," he picked the plant up from the floor and looked around the room despairingly for a place to hide it.

"Maybe if you just give it some water," James suggested, shrugging again.

Sirius stopped his relentless pacing, and looked down at the flower. Something had finally seemed to click in his brain. "Water…uh…right…. James, hold this," he shoved the pot into James's unsuspecting arms before pulling his wand out of his robes. He pointed it at the plant, and said, "Aguamenti." A thin stream of water jetted out of the tip of his wand, and poured over the pot. Content with its drink, the plant curled up into itself and fell asleep, its tiny stem rising and falling as though breathing peacefully. Sirius sighed a breath of relief and set the plant on the windowsill.

"There. No problem," James smiled in smug satisfaction.

Sirius nodded, "No, not too bad at all. So…I guess it likes water."

"Who'd have guessed it?" James rolled his eyes sarcastically before he was struck with an idea that may improve Sirius's mood. And his especially. "Say…I saw Terry and the team heading down to the pitch about thirty minutes ago. Do you want to go down and watch the Quidditch team practice? We can do homework later."

That instantly seemed to cheer Sirius up. "Yeah! That sounds great," he raced to his trunk, opened it, and grabbed a warm sweater and scarf. He quickly put them on and sprinted past James to open the door.

"Wait!" James called him back.

Sirius came to a halt, hand on the doorknob, and turned around. Puzzled, he stood in the doorway. "What?"

"Shouldn't you take that honking flower with you? We don't know how long their practice will be and it may need something," said James. "And you know how Sprout would hate it if you gave her back a dead plant," he supplemented with smirk.

Sirius continued to stare back at him with the same dumbfounded look for a full minute before responding, "Are you mental? I'm not letting anyone else see me with that – that thing!"

"What if it needs something, though?" James continued to goad him. "Your markings are depending on this – "

"Ugh! I know!" Sirius growled as he sat back down on the nearest bed and buried his head in his hands for a minute.

He looked up with a revelation and turned to James. "Wait! It likes water, doesn't it?" James slowly nodded. "Well…I'll just give it extra water before we leave. That way, it'll be fine for a while!"

That made sense to James.

Sirius stood up from the bed, and pointed his wand at the plant. "Aguamenti," another stream of water was shot at the pot. "There," Sirius smiled in satisfaction. He hid the flower under his bed before he and James ran from the dormitory, oblivious to the daffodil waking from its slumber to watch them depart.

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The following days passed by relatively uneventfully, aside from Narcissa Black continuing her rampage for her stolen diary. Snape had been her latest victim, to James and Sirius's great amusement. He had positively denied having anything to do with her diary, and demanded to be left alone, which she begrudgingly allowed when Professor Rankin walked by the scene. Curiously enough though, her diary had returned to its normal hiding place later that week, and she was forced to face the uncomfortable truth that she had simply misplaced the thing.

Sirius took care of the honking daffodil in the morning, during lunch break, and after lessons were complete, but he always did something wrong or made some sort of mistake. When James and he had returned later that first day he was supposed to care for the plant, they were met with a very frightened daffodil and a very irate Remus, who had been awoken by the flower's deafening honking. Remus had been unable to find the flower hidden under Sirius's bed, and had been forced to listen to its hysterically cries the entire time James and Sirius had been watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice in preparation for their match against the Ravenclaw team. Needless to say, he was completely uncooperative in helping Sirius soothe the nuisance.

Sirius had run to his bed and pulled the potted plant out from under it, to discover that it had nearly drowned from all of the water he had given it before they had left. The daffodil honked so loudly that they momentarily covered their ears with their hands in astonishment. James quickly unlatched the tall window in the dorm and Sirius poured the excess water out of it. As soon as the plant was certain of its safety, it ceased its honking. Sirius learned his lesson well. He never gave it that much water again. Actually, he tended to under-watered or under-fertilized it (or completely forgot to take care of it altogether), so it really was an astounding thing that, at the end of the week, the plant was still alive.

Remus was not helping Sirius tend to the daffodil at all. He had grudgingly agreed with James to pay a visit to Madame Pomfrey the second night of Sirius's punishment, to find out if she could do anything to aid his severe drowsiness. He didn't return at all that night, or the following two nights.

Actually, the plant probably wouldn't have been alive at all if it hadn't been for their roommate, Peter Pettigrew. Because of his interest in Potions class, he also tried to gain knowledge of as much as he could in Herbology, a subject he insisted had close ties with Potions. He knew that he would need many magical plants for potion making, and wanted to learn how to distinguish them and cultivate them. He was very clumsy and inept at almost everything he tried to do, something Professor McGonagall made notice of often in Transfiguration, but he knew plants and how to look after them. Whether Sirius was aware of it or not, it had been Pettigrew who had taken care of the honking daffodil every time Sirius made a mistake or forgot about it.

Remus returned that Friday from the Hospital Wing after lessons were complete with a lacerated left arm secured in a sling and more scratches while Sirius was returning the plant to Professor Sprout. James asked Remus, "What happened to you? I thought you were just visiting the Infirmary." He demanded to know who had beaten him up and hurt him, but Remus positively ignored James and Pettigrew's perplexed looks, and pretended that the questions didn't exist. Instead, he insisted that they needed help writing their essays about double-ended newts for Defense Against the Dark Arts, which James had to admit he hadn't even started on yet. The paper was due next Monday. Remus had already finished his own essay in the Hospital Wing and was willing to allow James and Pettigrew to copy his notes and parts of his essay, if to shut them up. They were both very grateful and completed their essays in no time since they wrote most of it from his notes., almost forgetting about his injured state completely.

"Thanks, Remus," Pettigrew expressed his gratitude as he stuffed his finished essay into his bag. James had already finished writing his five minutes ago and was sifting through the pages of The Daily Prophet. All three of them sat on the floor.

"You're welcome, Peter," Remus yawned and put his notes away. He looked as though someone could blow him over with a single breath. His face was ashen and he had large black bags beneath his eyes, giving him the impression of someone who hadn't slept in a week. "Sirius has been gone for a while, hasn't he?" he commented.

"He said thirty minutes at the most," Pettigrew shrugged. "Dunno what's taking him so long." James flipped to the next page in The Daily Prophet and stopped when he read the headline. Something about the article was eerily familiar…yes, he remembered! He had read about the topic last month!

"Hey guys!" James caught their attention and they looked to him. "Did either of you hear about that Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade?" Pettigrew and Remus shook their heads. "Oh…well…there was an article about it in last month's Prophet, too…apparently they believe the place is haunted," James explained, setting the newspaper down on the floor between them all so everyone would have a fair look at it.

Pettigrew's eyes grew to the size of gold galleons as he squeaked, "Ghosts!"

Remus became paler, too, if at all possible. "Hogsmeade…that's the village not too far from here…." He trailed off.

"Yeah," James cleared his throat and read aloud:

HOGSMEADE RESIDENTS BELIEVE THE SHRIEKING SHACK IS HAUNTED
by: Ambrose Bede

The abandoned shack has stood overlooking the village of Hogsmeade for many decades, but until recently has collected no interest whatsoever. The villagers now however, have reported three consecutive instances of strange occurrences happening from the vicinity of the house. These awful hauntings, terrifying the villagers to their wits end, are the causes of this sudden attention. The villagers have now dubbed the abandoned shack, very appropriately, the Shrieking Shack.

The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures investigated the site almost one month ago when the second incidence of disturbance occurred and were reported by this writer. It is commonly believed among the villagers that particularly restless spirits are culprit of theses disturbances. Nothing overtly suspicious was discovered on the site however and it was widely believed that the ghosts had departed the residence. The villagers ignored the shack again until Tuesday night, when the most recent disturbance occurred.

Some of Hogsmeade's residents greatly feared for their well-beings. A hysterical Goodwin Peterson, one of Hogsmeade's residents, accidentally blasted off the main sitting room of his house in hysterical fright upon hearing the cursed screams and howls again. Badly injured from the explosion, he required medical attention at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Healers report that Mr. Peterson's condition is now stable, and he will be returning to his house in soon order. Reconstruction of the damaged portion of his house it being handled by Maurer's Magical Masons.

The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures will continue to look into the Shrieking Shack scare. Currently, they have not been successful in identifying any means of predicting the next disturbance. Local Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's Headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, agrees with these sentiments and presumes that the spirit of Victor the Vicious and many others from his brutal gang have taken inhabitance of the rundown house. The Ministry of Magic supports these beliefs and, until all matters are settled, urges Hogsmeade residents to travel in groups during the day and remain indoors at night.

James set The Daily Prophet down on the floor and looked up at the two. Pettigrew continued to stare at him with fearful eyes while Remus trained his eyes on the newspaper and the moving illustration of the exterior of the "Shrieking Shack."

"Are the ghosts dangerous?" squeaked Pettigrew nervously.

"Dunno," James shrugged.

"It sounds like they are," murmured Remus. An involuntary shiver passed through his spine.

The door to the dormitory opened and Sirius walked inside, instantly hushing their somber conversation with his chipper attitude. They all noticed that he was still holding the honking daffodil.

"Uh…Sirius? Aren't you supposed to be returning that?" James asked, utterly perplexed. What was he up to? Sirius gave him a wry smile before crossing the length of the room to Pettigrew, who shook like a timid leaf in a windstorm when he realized Sirius was approaching him.

"Um…." Pettigrew trailed off at a complete loss of words.

"I spoke with Professor Sprout," Sirius began, "and with my devilishly good looks and boyish charms," James and Remus rolled their eyes, "I convinced her to let you keep the flower." He handed Pettigrew the honking daffodil. Pettigrew accepted it with dumb, stunned hands.

"You're…you're giving me the honking daffodil?"

"Sure! I'm well aware that if it wasn't for you taking care of that thing whenever I didn't, it would be dead right now and I'd be in an even bigger heap of trouble," explained Sirius. "So…thanks for helping me slip by this one…Peter was your name, right?"

"Th-thank you!" Pettigrew grinned. He didn't even seem to catch Sirius's blunder, he was so pleased with the honking daffodil.

HONK!

The daffodil emitted a loud, high-pitched honk to reveal that it was satisfied with its new owner. The four were startled when they first heard it, but quickly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Do you think I could put it on the windowsill?" asked Pettigrew.

"Sure, I don't see why not. It seems to like it there," Sirius shrugged as Peter set the plant into the sunlight and it honked merrily again.

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A/N- Harry Potter and friends and everything else you recognize do not belonging to me as they are the property and creations of J.K. Rowling.

Word Count: 3147
Words Added: 3147

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