Ash (A Marauder Era HP Fan Fiction)

EDITORIAL Feb 2017- This is my sucky fanfic from way back when. It portrays the canons as way out of character and revolves around the special snowflake OC, Ash. I unpublished this for a while but whilst rereading it, I saw this post on tumblr about taking pride in your sucky writing because it helps you learn. So... Au voila! Allowing this to come out of my drafts. Now, I'm never picking this back up again. Ever. But I wrote this five years ago now and I'm not looking for improvement. Just know that what you're embarking on is terrible. But if you're like me, you enjoy the odd bad fanfic~!

-

A/N: Not a new project. Just something old I've touched up and decided to type up. I think this was the first ever Marauder era story I ever dreamt up. It's OC/Sirius time, baby! Whoop! The current book cover was made by the person dedicated! Go read their stories? After Ash of course, but still go read.

Dear Miss Ash Jones,

As you may know, your sister, Miss Lara Jones, has been chosen to represent Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the Triwizard Tournament. As is tradition, the family of the three Champions are invited to attend the final task and watch.

Understanding your current situation, we here at the school formally invite you to stay at the castle for the week in which the task commences.

Yours sincerely,

Brook Bliss

Deputy Headmistress

So here I am. Miss Ash Jones. I'm on a red steam engine with four adults around me. Why am I going to watch my sister at her freaky school? Boredom. Plus, I get out of my own school. I'm also curious. I've heard about Hogwarts from Lara and Hunter. My sisters are witches, you see. Unlike them, I'm dazzlingly pretty and I'm completely normal thank you very much. Just kidding. If I ever end up dazzlingly pretty, I'd just about die... Unless it's natural and not magical.

It appeared I was one of two normal people on this train. I was the only British one too. Two of them don't even appear to speak English. That doesn't matter though. They haven't said a word to me. It's the pair of Frenchies that kept jabbering away to me. I was lucky to get a word in edgewise. Madame LaRue is a so called muggle like myself. Sounds like an insult, doesn't it? But Madame LaRue hadn't a single drop of magical blood in her. Like myself. She found out when she fell in love with Monsieur LaRue. Lucky woman. She hadn't had to deal with it since childhood. Unlike myself.

The train was slowing down, stopping at a station. Men stood ready and greeted us. It was early morning and I was starving. I didn't care about them and just got off, looking around. I followed the Frenchies to a... a thing drawn carriage. Winged and leathery horses were attached to the carriage. I don't want to know... The pair of... things... pulled the carriage up a long pathway, coming to a standstill at the entrance of the castle and by then, my breath was taken away.

The castle was amazing. Stone walled with many a window and tower... It was something out of a fairytale. Madame LaRue had to tap my shoulder to get me to stop gawking and follow them inside. The Bulgarians (as I had learned they were) stayed away from us. They talked only to Monsieur LaRue, really. And only sparingly.

We were led into a huge hall where a few long tables sat. Tapestries hung above four of them and there were six types all in all. Red one with a lion, green with a snake, yellow with a badger, dark blue with an eagle on it, light blue with three wands surrounded by ribbon on it and red and grey with a dragon's head on it. I was led to a room beside the only width-way table there was. This room was filled with shiny trophies and portraits.

Two kids, a boy and a girl walked in and were immediately embraced by their parents. I looked away, a little jealous. I was here because we had no parents... Then Lara, pale faced came in. I cleared my throat and waited for the light bulb to switch on.