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Octopus's Garden by Anthea Chant
Chapter 1 : Lucy, Boots and Squirrels
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 8

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A/N: So… the first fanfic I have ever posted! Please read and review. Constructive criticism is good… feel free to say that the writing/plot/characters are crappy, just don’t make fun of Elidore because she’s based on me and I WILL be offended.

I didn’t expect any of this.


I was shipped off to Hogwarts at eleven. When I was thirteen, my parents divorced. The next couple of years were a mess of custody battles and negotiations. When I was fifteen, I may have accidentally set our flat on fire (I stillblame the toaster). By the time I was sixteen my parents had remarried, but they both died in an accident on my father’s motor cycle when I was seventeen. When I was eighteen, Great Aunt Lucy turned up.


It was 3 a.m. when I heard the doorbell ring. To be honest, you’d be hard put not to hear it. I had created it magically, so when someone pressed the buzzer, a Beatle’s song of my choice blasted through my tiny flat. Today’s was Can’t buy me Love. I hummed along happily as I pulled on the first articles of clothing I came across to cover up my tiny Snoopy the Dog P.Js. Unfortunately, said clothing happened to be a kimono and combat boots, but hey, it was three in the morning! I picked up a cucumber on my way to the front door and took a bite as I fumbled with the lock.

Perhaps at this point you are thinking Hmm, this doesn’t seem like normal behaviour for the average eighteen year old witch. And you would be right! I have been called many things, but normal is most definitely not one of them... After all, most teenagers would never find themselves munching on a cucumber while wearing miniscule pyjamas, a kimono and combat boots, singing along to the 1960’s music thumping through their flat and apparently unfazed by having to answer the door at 3 a.m.

I finally got the door unlocked and quickly glanced in the mirror… passing over my choice in attire and the cucumber skin stuck between my teeth, my hair seemed to be making an attempt at world domination, judging by the way it was sticking out at impossible angles and waving about insanely. Ah, what the hell? I thought and wrenched the door open.

A blast of cold air hit my face and I flinched before hitching on a dazzling smile. The woman standing before me was short but rather round, sort of like a pudding (That wasn’t meant to be offensive, I’m just being honest here). Her (obviously dyed) hair spilled over her shoulders like custard, and beads the colour of glacé cherries hung from every available appendage. She was frowning.

“Hello?”  I tried, but she continued to frown.

“Uh, can I help you?” I said a little louder and checked to see if she was still frowning. Hang on… her lips were moving but no sound was coming out! Huh? At this point it dawned on me that loud music was still playing, which was probably the explanation as to why we couldn’t hear each other. I flicked the switch behind the door and Can’t buy me Love faded away.

Shut up. I’m not capable of rational thought this early in the morning. Come to think of it, I’m not really capable of rational thought under any circumstances…

The pudding lady grinned. Heh, did I say that aloud? Whoops.

“Hello,” she spoke calmly “are you Elidore Ieuan?”

Hey! She said my name right! Whoop-de-doo. (Just to save you from numerous attenmpts to say my name correctly, I’ll help you out with it. Repeat after me: YEW-ANNE. Got that? Now let’s practice, YEW-ANNE.)

At this point, the average person would say something along the lines of Yes, can I help you? Instead:

“Ydw, want some cucumber?” I asked brightly, offering her the other end of the half eaten vegetable, (No, I did not just say “Ydw” because my mouth was full of cucumber. It’s Welsh.*) “They’re very nice!” she smiled but shook her head, “Ah well, come in then.”

I led her down the short hallway to my kitchen/living/dining room (yes, my flat is tiny) and showed her to the lounge. Only at this point did I notice that it was covered in books. I shoved Cheese making for Dummies (Yes, I read books about cheese making. Sue me), 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi and Pride and Prejudice onto the floor and piled the rest, along with my laptop and wand onto the kitchen counter. After fishing my IPhone, a few more cucumbers and (confusingly) a sock out from between the cushions, I again gestured to the lounge. She sank down gratefully and I made myself comfortable on a bar stool in front of her.

“Um, ok. Before you say anything else, I was just wondering, as, you know, a matter of interest, uh, who are you?” …yep, I’m subtle…

“I’m your Great Aunt Lucy” answered the pudding lady. Uh, ok, I didn’t know I had any great aunts, but I’ll go with that.

“Oh, ok. Well then, second question. Why are you here?” …I know, I should get an award for subtleness. Actually, I’m not that big on awards… maybe… oh, I know! Another jar of peanut butter! Yes! As I always say; you can never have too much peanut butter! …Anyway, back to the conversation I was currently supposed to be participating in…

“…a beneficiary in my will" she spoke on despite my utterly blank look, “you happen to be my closest living relative.”

“But, my brother?...” I asked tentatively, hoping this was even remotely relevant to what she just said.

Still oblivious to the fact that I had no clue what she was talking about, she continued delicately, “Ah yes, Evnissien… unfortunately, I don't believe his is really appropriate for the task.” (Yes my brother is called Evnissien. More on our stupid names later.) “I only really came to ensure that you were… suitable. But you seem more than up to the task, so I suppose I’d better be going.” Yeah, now that we’ve cleared all that up… not (yes, maybe the sarcasm was obvious, but, I have to be honest here, some of you aren’t exactly the sharpest crayons in the box, so I thought I ought to make myself clear).

At this point she stood up, leaving me sitting there like an imbecile and feeling thoroughly discombobulated (Tehehe dis-com-BOBUL-ated!). My thoughts went something like this:

Huh? Evi... unsuitable? I have a Great Aunt? Lucy? Heh... Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds… I should totally sing that to her! Wait, no. That would be weird… and creepy…  A will? What does she want with a will? Surely she’s not old enough to be worrying about that kind of stuff? But then again…  Task? What task? How is inheriting a pile of money and a house a task? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Oooh, look! A moth! Hmm… maybe I should give her some cucumbers, just to be polite you know? I’m sure there’s some convention of ettiquette that says that people with copious supplies of cucumbers should give them away to random people who come to their door at 3 a.m. claiming to be their Great Aunt… Wait, where’d she go?

From that excellent display of logic, you may have observed that my thought process somewhat resembles that of a deranged squirrel on a caffeine high. That in its self is disturbing but what is even more deeply disturbing is that I can’t even use caffeine as an excuse because I refuse to drink coffee (I believe it is a crime against the Gods of Tea).

Unfortunately, by the time I had managed to come up with that brilliant (but deeply disturbing) metaphor, I had been sitting on the bar stool like a gormless idiot for several minutes. This is why is shouldn’t be allowed to think during situations where I am required to act like a relatively normal person (in other words, when I’m around people apart from my friends and Evi) it can cause extremely awkward situations, like last year when McGonagall was trying to congratulate me on my excellent NEWT results and I was just staring at a point in the air somewhere above her right shoulder, thinking about how much better a place the world would be if it was socially acceptable to rub noses with people instead of shaking hands. Shut up, it’s a good idea!  …actually, scratch what I said before, I shouldn’t be allowed to have deep thought under any circumstances.

Anyway, back to the problem of where the hell my newfound Great Aunt had got to. Now, I don’t have much common sense, but I knew that my flat only had three rooms and therefore she couldn’t be that hard to find (HUZZAH! Logical thought!). In light of this information, I did what any normal person would do. I grabbed the cucumbers from the countertop and proceeded to run down the hallway, waving my arms about and singing Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds at the top of my voice (if you don’t know this song- shame on you- go and look it up on YouTube. Same goes for all the other Beatle’s songs I mention. For those Purebloods out there, YouTube is what we, Muggle-blooded folk use to watch videos, just for the joy of it! Go on, try it. IMMEDIATELY!)

I found Great Aunt Lucy pretty quickly. It was easy really… I collided with her at full speed about two feet down the corridor.

“Oh, hi!” I said awkwardly, “Heh, didn’t expect to see you here!”

Insert: mental face-palm.

She gave me a look that somehow managed to say Well, where did you expect me to be? and I fear for your sanity at the same time, and continued walking towards the door.

“Well, I’ll be off now!” she raised a hand.

“Oh, ok then. Um… Do take some cucumbers before you go, I have rather a lot.”

“Oh, no thankyou dear. I don’t really like them,” she replied brightly, as if she hadn’t just committed an inexcusable act of treason against The Cucumber: King of all Vegetables (just a heads up for everyone, when you say The Cucumber: King of all Vegetables, it has to be in a deep and overly dramatic voice… just letting you know), “and besides, my cats hate the smell.” And with that, she stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her.

Wait… her cats can smell cucumbers? Great. I finally find I have living relation other than Evi, and she turns out to be a mad cat lady. Who doesn’t like cucumbers! Just my luck.

Insert: dramatic sigh.

But then again, I suppose when it comes down to it, all I really am is a crazy cat-less girl who does like cucumbers. I shrugged and went back to bed.

*Ydw is a Welsh word that basically means “I am”.

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of this.

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Can’t buy me love belong to the Beatles. I don’t own the Beatles, or Harry Potter (credit goes to J.K.R.), or YouTube, or IPhones, or even Snoopy. If I owned any of the above I would be RICH! But I’m not… the truth is I’m just a sad little fanfic writer with nothing better to do with my life… ):

Remember to review! But don’t be rude about Elidore because she’s me in disguise…

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