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Tracey Jane Davis ([info]disadorable) wrote in [info]tinworth,
@ 2009-10-29 09:34:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:character: gilbert wimple, character: sarah fawcett, character: terence higgs, character: tracey davis, date: october 2003, place: private residence, place: tinworth

Characters: Tracey Davis, Great Great Uncle Atwell & OPEN LIKE A BARN DOOR
Locale: Bannerstone
Date: 29 October, 2009
Warnings? Spoooooooky.



It had taken some rather creative Charm work by night, but Tracey had managed to get the blood to flow up the windows. It was Atwell's special blend - corn syrup, a first year's supply of salamander blood, valerian root for texture, and a touch of saffron. If Muggles got curious, she could always tell them she had a motor-whatsit powering the viscous fluid to move, and they'd gobble it up like thirsty little lambs.

When the house had grayed with the last of the sunlight, Tracey started from top to bottom lighting candles and deepening shadows with her wand, casting a refilling Charm on the cauldron of syrupy punch, and giving a warning look to the tame Murtlaps bobbing on the surface, lest they get any ideas. Atwell was lurking behind one of the tapestries that billowed without wind or any visible source of air, a cloud of miniature, wispy bats following behind him. He looked rather pleased with himself.

"The Boggart is locked down in the south facing grave. A discrete flick of your wand within those... voluminous sleeves ought to bring him out, and back in again," Atwell drawled, wrinkling his nose at the patchy, molding lace of Tracey's robe sleeves, which she ignored. "While I realize discretion is not exactly your forte, my dear, do try."

Rolling her eyes, Tracey set loose a jumble of fake spiders on the walls and floor of the foyer. She'd picked them up at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and was glad for the holiday special, as the little buggers only had enough magic in them to keep them scurrying for one night, and she'd needed enough for three.

"How about you discrete your ass back behind the curtain? I can't make you appear any less unnatural than you are, and I'd rather the Ministry didn't shut us down this year."

For a ghost, Atwell had a remarkable talent for looking sour about everything except being dead. Tracey thought he rather liked it, doing as he pleased and suffering none of the consequences, though she would have been put out, too, by having nothing to do but remain eerily framed in a ground floor window, his transparent features written off as a "trick of the light," should anyone ask.

Tracey did not wait for Atwell's response before casting the last Charm on the front door, causing it to squeak and creak open and closed of its own will, and stationing herself outside next to a groaning bush. For all the Muggles knew, she had a whole host of help, puppeting the creatures that swooped between the windows, voicing the moans that echoed from the graves she'd dug in the yard, even the Boggart, she imagined, would be written off as a bloke in a costume, or a hidden camera, or some other Muggle nonsense. But Tracey didn't need help... she had magic.

And Atwell, of course.

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[info]howfascinating
2009-10-29 07:14 pm UTC (link)
Shoggoth, for all her legs were short, could run like the dickens. Gilbert struggled to keep up, thankful he didn't have a larger dog--at least if it came down to it, he was roughly ten times her weight, and he'd always win at the leash tug-of-war.

He was so focused on the headstrong dog he didn't catch a glimpse of Bannerstone's seasonal makeover until they were nearly at the walk. The sight of it stopped him in his tracks, Shoggoth be damned. "Someone's in the spirit. Wow."

They'd never really celebrated Halloween when he was a kid--it had always been a weird Yank holiday. But the wizarding world seemed to be big on it, and he couldn't say he objected. Any excuse for fancy dress parties and eating pumpkin pasties till he was sick, after all.

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[info]disadorable
2009-10-30 02:20 am UTC (link)
From her station in the yard, Tracey could see the man stopped in the street with the sort of glazed surprise she liked best from folks who had managed to go the past few years without seeing the manor. It was early yet and no one else had come by, so she took a few steps forward, her hair a black tangle in her eyes.

"With your mouth hanging open like that something's going to fly into it, you know," she called, tilting her head as though daring the man to come inside the gate. That lazy boggart needed some exercise.

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[info]howfascinating
2009-10-30 03:05 am UTC (link)
"If it's a sugar bat, I wouldn't complain. I hear they're in season." His reply was probably as much in self-defense as in actual attempt at conversation. No doubt he looked like an idiot, staring like that--he didn't want to sound as awestruck as he appeared. "Are you trying to scare the neighbors off? I'm afraid that might drive your property values down."

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[info]disadorable
2009-10-31 08:21 pm UTC (link)
Tracey's expression sharpened when she recognized Gilbert, for it wasn't difficult to remember the only bloke in town with horns. The only bloke ever, in her experience.

"I'll keep that in mind for next year," she replied with a dry smile, sidestepping an animated hand scrabbling at the bare, patchy soil of one of the graves she'd dug. Brow quirked, her eyes passed judgment on the wizard.

"I don't suppose I could persuade you to rub a bit of swelling solution on them, could I? You'd make a nice addition."

Tracey waved a hand to indicate the wildly decorated manor front.

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[info]howfascinating
2009-11-01 01:44 pm UTC (link)
Gilbert's ears went red, and he hastily ran his hands through his hair, fluffing it over the horns. "I, um, it's...there's too much...potential for...er...a dangerous magical reaction." It wasn't untrue. It was also a terribly good reason not to become a piece of performing scenery.

He realized that Shoggoth was straining at the leash. "I better get going. My dog. You know. Um, nice house." Unfortunately for Gilbert, the dog was in fact straining towards Tracey, wagging her tail madly and begging for pets.

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[info]disadorable
2009-11-01 03:18 pm UTC (link)
Gilbert's discomfort was only mildly entertaining, and Tracey didn't want to make him sore, not when he'd only just arrived.

"Have a look around, first! No harm in it, eh?" The last she directed to the dog, and she crouched to accommodate the excitable little creature, whose muddied paw prints on her skirt only added to the effect.

"I could make you red and have the best hell hound in all of Cornwall!"

Tracey was more generous with animals than she was with people, generally, and ignored Gilbert for the moment in favor of lavishing attention upon his pet.

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[info]howfascinating
2009-11-02 01:24 am UTC (link)
Oh, thank Merlin. She was a dog person. Shoggoth did have a nice knack for drawing attention away from him, at least with people that liked dogs. He was kind of curious to see the house. "Well...I suppose we could. If you allow hell hounds."

Gilbert peered at the windows as Shoggoth dragged them closer. "That blood seems to be defying the law of gravity. What do you tell the Muggles?"

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[info]disadorable
2009-11-02 01:30 am UTC (link)
Tracey looked up. She was exceedingly proud of the blood.

"Nothing. Nobody's asked," she answered, her grin savage as she continued to pet the little dog, careful to keep from clawing him with her nails. "People will believe anything of All Hallow's."

She had prepared an excuse, just in case, though she was more interested in what Gilbert thought was the actual cause.

"What would you tell them?"

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[info]howfascinating
2009-11-02 01:48 am UTC (link)
That took some thinking. Being Muggleborn himself, he tended to underestimate how much they could take for granted; after all, once you knew magic existed, it was hard to look at anything and be sure that it followed the laws of science. "I suppose...if you had it encased in some sort of clear coating...you could run a pump to move it upwards. Of course it would be fairly easy to prove that it was not enclosed simply by touching it. Maybe if it were viscous enough to stick, and you had fans beneath blowing it upwards...but no..."

Ah, but he couldn't forget that, absent of magic, there were other possibilities that Muggles could be persuaded to. "Oh! Or you could just say the house was really haunted. They make movies about supposedly true hauntings all the time."

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[info]disadorable
2009-11-02 03:05 am UTC (link)
Now that was a far more believable thread of logic than what Tracey had devised. She was sure her vocabulary was lacking even the depth to provide something as genuine to the particularly inquisitive Muggle, and had frankly hoped never to encounter the situation, or have someone about who could just club them over the head.

At Gilbert's last, however, she began to laugh.

"The house is really haunted. Though I doubt there are any movies about cantankerous old fags who go on for hours about their complexion in front of the footlights."

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[info]howfascinating
2009-11-02 03:55 am UTC (link)
"Ghosts are never much like ghost stories, are they? I mean, no horror writer would ever make up something like Peeves." He peered at her thoughtfully. "You did go to Hogwarts, didn't you?"

"Anyway, your ghost...do you have him move the furniture around, that sort of thing? I have it on good authority that poltergeist activity is a Muggle favorite."

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[info]disadorable
2009-11-02 10:14 pm UTC (link)
"Nyet, I vas student at Durmstrang," Tracey replied, doing her very best to imitate the strapping bloke who'd danced with her at the Yule Ball at school. Her expression, however, was poking fun at Gilbert for having even asked.

She listened with interest at his next, however, though had a hard time imagining how anyone could find a creature as stupid as Peeves scary. Muggles. Really.

"He wouldn't stoop so low," she continued after a moment. "If most ghosts take themselves too seriously for such things, Atwell sets the standard."

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-10-31 10:09 pm UTC (link)
Terence never consulted with his security detail about evening plans. The two Hitwizards were models of professionalism at all times, which was to say that they didn't invite casual conversation. He supposed they'd lost colleagues, perhaps even friends and family, in the War.

He supposed he was fortunate that they didn't just shove him in a closet after work, with a Sticking Charm or two to keep him company until morning.

Terence felt himself very fortunate indeed that his babysitters left him to his own devices--or at least to all appearances, they left him alone. He knew the pair were skulking about somewhere, ready to swoop down and stop him if he got a sudden urge to relieve some Muggle urchins of their pillow cases full of Halloween treats.

Not that the thought had ever crossed his mind! Well, it had, fleetingly, but only because a group of school-age youngsters had turned the corner in front of him. Terence was currently trailing some forty feet behind an assortment of what appeared to be hobos and Muggle pop stars. The little hooligans reached Bannerstone Manor and turned in at the garden gate with much giggling and half-stifled shrieks of mingled mirth and trepidation. Terence paused, grinning, to watch their progress through the garden. Muggles were rather cute, at a young age. Pity they grew up to cause so much trouble.

A few moments after the trick-or-treaters disappeared inside the creaking front door, Terence made his own way into the garden.

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[info]disadorable
2009-10-31 10:52 pm UTC (link)
While Atwell leered at the children from the window, Tracey skulked about in the garden, making sure that the Boggart was secure. There had been a scare last evening when a wizarding child had accidentally set a giant spider loose and Tracey had only just muttered the spell to reduce him to the size of a pea. There was trouble of that sort every year, and Tracey was only grateful the Ministry had more to do with their time than poke around the happenings of Tinworth in late October.

She spotted Terence entering the garden and grinned, skirting a rattling shrub in a no doubt failed attempt to sneak up on him. Causing a groan man to shriek was the usual highlight of her Halloween, but she'd had no luck yet this season.

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-10-31 11:21 pm UTC (link)
Terence could never be mistaken for the scholarly type, but just now he was enjoying himself trying to figure out what spells and charms had been used to transform the garden. He stopped just out of reach of a shrub with tendrils that waved eerily, trying to grasp at his robes. A hand scuttled crab-like across his shoe, dragging the bloody stump of an arm.

"Clever," Terence murmured to himself.

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[info]disadorable
2009-10-31 11:31 pm UTC (link)
"D'you think?" Tracey hissed at Terence's ear, having successfully dodged around behind him, if not necessarily without his notice. As she spoke she flicked her wand, causing one of the vines to snake over Terence's shoulder and touch his cheek.

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-10-31 11:46 pm UTC (link)
He jumped visibly at the voice and the cold, creepy touch of the animated plant, fumbling in his pocket for his wand.

"Gah--" Oh. It was his dinner companion from the week before.

"--AAAAH!" Terence turned the startled yelp into a full-on bellow right into her face.

"Davis. Been to the salon, I see," he said after a breath, laughter destroying any attempt at a deadpan delivery.

His heart was still racing. Six years ago Miss Davis might well have found her ears hexed off for her little joke. Thank Merlin he was out of practice. The Hitwizards, Terence suspected, would not have been amused.

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[info]disadorable
2009-11-01 12:32 am UTC (link)
Tracey clapped her hands together in delight, grinning broadly at Terence. She pushed her bedraggled hair over her shoulders, the ends of her sleeves snagging on her sharp, black nails.

"And what are you supposed to be, Higgs?" Her brows arched, looking over Terence's shoulder at a few Muggle teenagers racing each other to the front door. It slammed in the face of the first, sending him to the ground.

"Repentant felon?"

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-11-01 01:07 am UTC (link)
"Hairstylist," he improvised with an exaggerated lisp, picking up a stray lock of hair from her shoulder, then letting it drop. "Someone needs a deep-conditioning potion."

Abandoning the limp-wrist act, Terence turned to watch the Muggle lad dust himself off and have another go at the front door.

"There's a bit of a lark. You don't arrange all of this yourself, do you?" his tone was admiring.

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[info]disadorable
2009-11-01 03:29 pm UTC (link)
"Not all," Tracey answered, ruffling her hair to get it to stand up a bit more. Hags were work, but well worth it. She gestured to the window where Atwell now appeared to be reciting some passage or another whose source material was lost by the fact that Tracey could not hear a single thing he was saying. She only knew because Atwell got a very particular look about him when he launched into a soliloquy. Somehow more overstuffed and important than usual.

"My Great Great Uncle. You could call him a dramatist. I'm mostly just his hands come Halloween," she continued, puppeting her hands in stiff mimicry and pulling a face. "Want to look inside? Those Muggles might need some help."

Or she might just want to watch them trip over the shuddering floorboards. Either way.

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[info]stitchcraft
2009-11-01 06:08 am UTC (link)
Sarah fiddled with a bit of trim on the sleeve of her costume and hitched her basket higher on her arm. She had sewn her own Little Red Riding Hood costume, of course, and was fairly pleased with how it had come out. It was a mature take on the character, without being tarty...and it had let her get some extra practice in on a couple of intricate stitchwork patterns.

She was going to the Oyster Catcher later in the night to meet Nate and John and whomever else was about, but before heading that way she thought she'd pass by Bannerstone and see how it looked this year. She'd only experienced it once before, last year, but it had been really well done. She strolled along the lawn, admiring the intense work that had gone into the decorations. She spotted the witch in charge, who looked vaguely familiar despite the fact Sarah mentally pictured her with red hair.

The witch was talking to someone who was also - unfortunately - familiar to Sarah. Terence Effing Higgs. First Miles, now Higgs...why in Rowena's name is the universe conspiring to throw all these former Slytherins at me...and why now? At least Miles hadn't been so bad. He might be a self-interested wanker, but somewhere underneath his cranky exterior a speck of decency did lurk. But Higgs...Higgs! Higgs embodied everything that still ate away at Sarah after the war. Every time she saw anything about the Ministry's rehabilitation program she felt like punching something. And now here was it's poster boy...almost within fist's reach.

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-11-01 06:56 pm UTC (link)
Terence watched, amused, as Davis mussed her hair even more than it already was. He didn't suppose there were very many witches who would willingly make themselves look less attractive. She really was a good sport. Following her prompt, he grinned at the sight of a ghost regaling a bunch of completely oblivious Muggles. What a joke!

"Oh, I'm sure. You're going to help them leap right out of their own skins," he chuckled, following her toward the door. From what he could see, the atmosphere inside was even more chaotic than in the garden, dim and shadowy and loud with laughter and screams. His security detail were going to hate this.

There was another woman close by, Terence realized belatedly, and paused at the entrance to hold the door open for her. By contrast to Davis' haggard garb, this woman's costume fell squarely into the pretty category. He gestured to the interior of the haunted house with a bit of a flourish.

"After you, miss. Unless you'd like to stay beside me?" Terence suggested, all innocence. "I'll keep you safe from any frights."

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[info]stitchcraft
2009-11-01 11:41 pm UTC (link)
Sarah had to bite her tongue -literally- from snapping back with a sharp reply about how she could open her own doors, thank-you-very-much, and didn't need any assistance from former Death Eater scumbags who were inexplicably still full of themselves even now, after everything.

Instead, she merely strode into the house as quickly as possible, taking care not to get too close to the odious pig. She tossed a terse "Thanks, but I've got it covered," over her shoulder and moved into the hallway, trying to get lost in the spooky display and hoping he'd get the hint and keep his distance.

If he didn't, she'd make sure he wished he had.

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-11-02 03:27 am UTC (link)
Rude little trollop, wasn't she? Must be a Muggle. Terence shrugged the incident off and went in the opposite direction, admiring the blood flowing up each windowpane.

He'd just started along a narrow cobweb-festooned corridor when a realistic-looking werewolf burst out of a closet, creating pandemonium among the crowd of Muggle teenagers. Screams echoed off the walls as the kids fell over one another trying to get away, their escape efforts hampered by Terence. Not that he was trying to block the exit, of course.

Well, perhaps just a little. But that 'werewolf' was a lovely bit of magic! It would be a shame if no one stuck around to view it properly.

The last of the kids jostled past him, pushing him against the wall... and into something soft and yielding.




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[info]stitchcraft
2009-11-02 03:39 am UTC (link)
Oh this was shaping up to be just a dandy evening now wasn't it. Sarah had managed to enjoy the clever spellwork that had gone into the small bats and spiders trailing around the manor's ghost, and had had a good time listening to part of one of his recitations before moving on.

Unfortunately, she'd chosen to enter the cramped hallway just as a stream of Muggle teenagers forced her into a nearly compromising position with the last person on earth she wanted to see, let alone touch.

Straightening as best she could and attempting to extricate herself, she muttered, as pleasantly as she could possibly manage, "I would appreciate it if you would please remove your hands from their present location." For good measure, she forced herself to add a strained-sounding "please."

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-11-02 04:01 am UTC (link)
Suddenly finding a young woman in one's arms ought to be a pleasant experience... And would have been if the girl in question had been anyone else. Feeling disgruntled, Terence backed off, raising his hands in exaggerated compliance with her request.

"Gladly." As if he'd touched her on purpose! She certainly had a chip on her shoulder.

"This is a holiday, you know," he pointed out. "Generally meant to be a cheery affair."

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[info]stitchcraft
2009-11-02 10:54 pm UTC (link)
The more level-headed part of Sarah knew that her anger was growing by irrational leaps and bounds, but she couldn't seem to help it. It had been bad enough reading in the Prophet that scum like Higgs had been released just because the Ministry thought they hadn't really meant it when they'd taken their Marks. Now to come face to face with the icon of all her pent up, lingering anger over the war...it was just too much. Especially when he seemed to be playing Mr. Grabby.

Sarah knew about oaths, and she knew about pledges. Whether it was an Auror entering the service after the academy or a Death Eater entering the ranks of Voldemort's footsoldiers, making that commitment took serious intent. It came from you, didn't it? Out of the very fabric of who you were...and then shaped everything that came after. Right? So how was she supposed to believe that someone like Higgs was truly repentant? She couldn't. Which meant that releasing him was a mistake, and one that she didn't have to like.

Wanting to just get away from him now, she brushed past him and moved a bit down the corridor. "True. And I'm plenty chipper, as long as blokes don't go about manhandling me."

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[info]terence_higgs
2009-11-03 12:45 am UTC (link)
Why did she persist in thinking he'd intended to grope her? Did she not see the crowd of kids pushing and shoving? Terence opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again, giving a little shrug of his shoulders. Really, why should he be fussed about the opinion of one bad-tempered Muggle?

The ghost--what was his name? Atkins? Atwell?--at any rate, Terence could hear him reciting again. He wandered back in that direction, putting the ill-mannered girl out of his mind.

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[info]stitchcraft
2009-11-03 01:42 am UTC (link)
Finally he was leaving her alone. Sarah moved off in the other direction, deciding to check out the rest of the Manor quickly before heading down to the Oyster Catcher. Maybe a nice pint or two would improve her mood.

She vowed not to let Higgs ruin her Halloween.

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