Bedknobs and Broomsticks [HP fanfic; BNB Book 1]

Mansfield Manor

The house had never looked so empty. Geoff scuffed his foot in the dirt of the road, trying to think of somewhere, anywhere else he could go rather than to his empty home. Thinking of nowhere, he took a step forward and pushed open the gate, trudging his way up the walk to the front door. He tapped his wand against the handle and the door swung open; another wave of the wand and the lights in the entryway sprang to life, but their typically warm glow seemed muted and chilly.

He made his way to the end of the hallway and turned left, dropping himself onto his bed, hardly bothering to pull his shoes off before stretching himself out on the mattress, giving in to exhaustion. No sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was fast asleep, snoring lightly.

The sunlight streaming in through the window woke him the next morning. He felt he really should be able to remember to shut the curtains after eighteen years, but somehow he had failed to do so on a fairly regular basis whenever he was home. He stalked over to the window and yanked the curtains closed, then turned back to his bed. It was inviting, but he decided against it. He changed into a fresh set of robes and shuffled his way down the hallway to the kitchen.

He glanced into the living room as he passed. Everything was still in the place his parents would have left it the morning before they died. A copy of the Daily Prophet was carefully folded and lying on the arm of his father's armchair. An open crate of Quidditch balls was sitting on one end of the sofa, the Bludgers straining against their restraints, the Quaffle resting on the coffee table next to some of his mother's tools -- he wondered absently what she had been doing with it.

He stepped into the kitchen to find it surprisingly clean. He doubted his parents had changed their habits since the summer -- the place should have been a wreck, with dirty breakfast dishes still on the table. As he looked around the kitchen, he found the explanation. A woman was standing at the sink, scrubbing away at a grimy pan.

"Claire?"

She turned to look over her shoulder and flash him a quick smile. "I thought I heard you come in last night," she said. She dropped the pan into the sink and dried her hands on a dishrag before crossing the room and throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug. "Joel and I got here yesterday morning," she said, releasing him. "He's out back taking care of your dad's nifflers and knarls." She paused. "Are you doing all right? I know it can't be easy."

"Yeah, I'm... I'm okay."

"As good as you can be, right?" She turned back to the sink and continued scrubbing at the pan. "Your mum must've been working on something big. There's this gunk in the bottom of this thing that I couldn't get out with magic."

"She said something in a letter about trying to mix Quidditch and Quodpot. Something about supporting international magical cooperation through sports and strengthening ties with our American friends. You know how she is. Was."

"Yeah, that sounds like something she'd do." She shook her head and dropped the pan into the sink, giving up on scrubbing out whatever was stuck to the bottom. "Hungry?"

"No, no I'm fine. I'm just going to go out and say hello to Joel..." He slipped out the kitchen door into the backyard. Joel was standing in front of a pen of knarls, looking at them spitefully.

"One of the little bastards bit me," he said, thrusting out a hand as Geoffrey approached. Sure enough, a small perforated crescent was on the back of his hand, bleeding. "Blighter thought I was trying to poison him. And don't get me started on the bowtruckles. Doing all right, there, Geoff?" He thrust out a hand and gave Geoffrey a hardy handshake before turning to kick the fence of the knarl pen and send the creatures scattering. "Some chizpurfles infected one of your dad's augureys, and his clabbert's been eying some of his salamanders since Claire and I got here, and the Silencing Charm on his fwooper's starting to wear off. It's been driving me mad all night, but that's nothing to the puffskeins we found hiding in the guest bedroom. Have you ever been woken up in the middle of the night with a puffskein tongue up your nose eating your bogeys? Claire said she had one stick its tongue up her--"