Harry Potter one shots and miscellaneous short stories

Sweeney Todd au (Crewt)

The auburn haired young man had only recently come ashore yet he somehow had managed to find himself utterly, hopelessly lost. This hardly put a damper on his spirits however, as the young sailor wandered through the bustling streets, checking the map he had so carefully folded into one of the many pockets lining his coat. Of course, the young man wasn't actually a sailor, though this was a far more suitable excuse for his global expeditions considering those with even a scrap of magical blood were persecuted, and even among his fellow wizards he was treated as an oddity, no one else seeing the pressing need for magizoology or the need to look after such creatures. The area that he had found himself appeared to be a residential district for those who had more money than they knew what to do with, unnecessarily ornate nonsense occupying as much space as it dared without threatening the elegant gardens. He chose to use this as a chance to gather his bearings, this particular area being less populated, aside from the odd wandering merchant, among them a bird seller, and a beggar woman, hunched over pitifully, her dark brown hair a mess of unidentifiable form.

Every day seemed much the same for the young man, seated by the window, staring wistfully out at the sky with large, unfocused eyes. The relative silence was only broken by the occasional song of the few caged birds that occupied the space with him.
"Greenfinch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing?" he sung out to no one in particular.
"How can you jubilate, sitting in cages, never taking wing? When outside the sky waits. Beckoning... Beckoning just beyond your bars. How is it you sing anything? How is it you sing?" There was such a fragility to the young man's voice as he sung that it drew the attention of the man outside, who looked up instinctively, trying to listen.
"Greenfinch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing?" he repeated, "Whence comes this melody constantly flowing? Is it rejoicing or merely hallowing? Are you discussing or are you fussing, of simply dreaming? Are you crowing? Are you screaming?" He had unknowingly, as he sung, wrapped his hand around the pendant hanging from his neck, depicting the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.
"Ringdove and robinet, is it for wages? Singing to be sold? Have you decided it's safer in cages, singing when your told? My cage has many rooms, damask and dark, nothing there sings, not even my lark. Larks never will, you know, when their captive? Teach me to be more adaptive..." He paused for a moment, sighing quietly.
"Greenfinch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing, if I cannot fly. Let me sing..." his voice cracked slightly, a result of such raw emotions.

The young man on the street looked up in wide eyed wonderment, utterly enthralled.
"I have sailed the world, beheld its wonders..." he began, not fully aware that he was singing, "From the pearls of Spain to the rubies of Tibet, but not even in London have I seen such a wonder..." He stared up at the young man in the window, who seemed not to have noticed this.
"Sir, look at me, look at me, sir oh look at me please, oh favour me, favour me with your glance." he continued, his pace picking up rather significantly,
"Ah sir, what do you, what do you see out there in those trees, oh, won't you give, Wong you give me a chance?" He was genuinely surprised by the pleading tone in his voice.
"Who would sail to Spain for all its wonders when it Kearney's lane lies the greatest wonder yet?" He had been moving closer, almost subconsciously drawn to the young man, who was now looking down at him in interest.
"Ah sir, look at you, look at you, pale and ivory skinned, oh, look at you looking so sad, so queer." He seemed unable to look away from the person.
"Promise not to retreat to the darkness, back of your window, not "til you, not 'til you look down here! Look at me!" he pleaded, repeating the final words several times over.
"Greenfinch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing if I cannot fly, let me sing." he sung, as if if response.
The song in both cut off instantly as they made eye contact, as if all the air was suddenly sucked out if their lungs.

The young magizoologist had been so entirely fixated on the mysterious, wonderful figure that he hadn't noticed the beggar had made her way over to him, her sudden voice causing him to jump.
"Alms, alms for a miserable woman..." she begged, a flicker of recollection crossing her face for her moment, "Beg your pardon, it's you sir!"
He offered her several coins, as he had their first meeting.
"That ye sir, thank ye..." she mumbled, her voice scratchy and rather unpleasant to the ears, already turning to leave.
"Pardon me, ma'am, would you happen to know who's house this is?" he asked, looking up at the house to discover that the person had vanished, scared off by the woman.
"Oh!" her voice seemed to tremble more than usual, "That's the great Judge Grindelwald's 'ouse, that is!" she explained, her eyes wide.
"And the young man who resided there?" he prompted, remaining patient.
"Oh 'im? That's Credence, 'is pretty little ward! Keeps "im snug 'e does, all locked up." Following his gaze she added, "Now don't you go pokin' 'round here, if ye value your hide! It'd be a good whippin' for ye, or any youth with mischief on 'is mind!"
The clarity in her eyes, however weak it had been, vanished with a near startling speed, rambling and lunging at him, causing him to dismiss her, appalled, giving her several more coins.