Absit Omen RPG

“@&%*#!!” The paper airplane soaring from the carriage doors suddenly enlarged to the side of an eagle and began to narrowly miss a few heads. Running behind it? Noah Edward Pratt. “@&%*#! @&%*#! @&%*#!” The thirteen-year-old cursed loudly as he pushed through the crowd after his invention. “Watch out! Mind your head!”

No one was stopping the place and Noah watched in horror as suddenly, the paper contraption started to catch fire. “Oh @&%*#!” he exclaimed once more. His Dad was going to kill him. Where was his Dad even? Probably looking out for Natasha. Good.

“Watch it!” Nope, the blonde lady wasn’t paying any attention. “WATCH OUT!” He yelled but the burning hell plane veered straight for the Witch’s head. “OH @&%*#!! SORRY!”

“NOAH!” The roar came from behind him and Noah’s head span from the angry looking blonde witch to see the angry looking blond wizard making a very fast approach. Natasha was quickly following behind. She had that same look on her face that she always did when she looked at him. Displeasure. Such a girl!

“He’s a veela.” Noah muttered from behind Gwenna as he dropped his bag to the stone floor with a thud that made it quite clear he was carrying far too much around with him. Professors may have liked to believe that the bag was full of textbooks for lessons and from the library. Gwenna, his best friend and chief annoyance would certainly know different.

“Dad says if ye stare too long they’ll steal yer soul and eat it.” Claiming the stool, Noah leaned forward and rested his elbows on the wooden bench before them. “He don’t look ‘ungry though.” From the bag, his quill and some parchment floated out to lay itself on the bench. “Thing is, Dad also says it about yer pa ‘cuz he’s ginger.” The boy shrugged, his own gaze sweeping over the new professor stood at the front of the potions lab.

“Why’d ye ‘ave to rush to the front, Gwen? Now we’re gonna’ ‘ave t’engage.”

That was it, he was moving out as soon as he was 17 and he was never coming back. Before, Noah had been convinced that it was only his father intent on embarrassing him and making his life unbearable. But no, Charlie, Brooke and even Tash wanted to torture him. Flora, the goddess evidently saw him as a little kid and his dad was determined to have her chase the ‘snitch’.

Suddenly Charlie the Snitch came flying around the corner in the arms of a big auror who clearly preferred to have fun than suffer under Edward Pratt’s tyrannical rule.

"Warrington has saved the day - I mean, the quidditch game, by carrying your brother." Flora told Noah who still had his little sister by her hand. Flora even knelt and tried coaxing the whinging toddler into her arms while Noah fought his better judgement to tell her how she really didn’t want Brooklynn Pratt to latch onto her too. The little one had lungs to rival an angry merperson!

"Can she, um, crawl? Or toddle?"

Was Flora serious? Noah stared at her, his love diminishing marginally.
“She’s two.” he responded, convinced that should give more than a clear answer to the question.

Before he could say anything else, there was a cat yowl and suddenly a marginally familiar ginger girl was stood above them, telling his baby sister off.
“Hey!” But it was too late, Natasha was sniffing, twitching her nose and getting ready to cry. This place was worse than home! It was a looney house! Noah bent down and lifted his sister up and she began to wail. Where the hell was his dad?
“How dare you speak to me sister like that you-”
“Noah! Be Nice!” The loud voice was heard from near his office door as Edward Pratt shouted across the office. “You’re personally responsible, Flora!” Then, without further ado, the door for the Head Auror’s office was pushed shut and Noah was left with his two-year-old sister in his arms and the love of his life in front of him along with various other aurors.

“Me pa must hate you.”

Of course, Noah had heard that! He’d heard everything the large hairy new headmaster had said. The forest was called the forbidden forest because it was forbidden. Gwenna had never seemed to understand that and Noah had always been too happy to accompany her because, why the hell not?

“No one wants us out there,” the boy muttered, eyes on the table where their food would soon be appearing. Soon. So soon. “Food first. Forest later.” Maybe. If he was going to become an auror and marry Fauna Blake, he’d need to be fantastic, focused, fearless. That meant no more trouble with Gwenna. Bright eyes shot to her beside him and he frowned. She wouldn’t take it well.

“I swear I’ve seen this bloke before, Gwen.” Noah continued, ignoring the arrival of the Stominator with a gaggle of terrified and excited looking first years.

His Dad was yelling across the office full of tiny cubicles and pointless half walls, the man’s annoying voice carrying the distance between father and son but Noah didn’t stop and turn around. He knew what he would see if he did; one angry blond middle aged man with a squawking baby in his arms and an obsession with work. He only just had over a week before he went back to Hogwarts and his bloody dad had to bloody work on the day he was supposed to bloody well be a dad. It was bloody typical!

"Two years and he still can't get my name right," the voice barely registered as Noah rounded the corner and right into the taller girl.

The first thing the young boy saw was the black liquid spilling onto leather boots. His pap had told him stories about the aurors and their love for coffee.
This might be it.
This might be the end of everything he knew.
He might be dead soon, or at least in a state where living wasn’t worth it.

So, Noah kept his eyes firmly on the stained boots so close to his own scruffy trainers that definitely needed replacing.

"Are you alright?" The voice asked. She wasn’t angry or murderous!

Noah’s bright blue eyes shot up to meet…a face of exquisite beauty. Lips parted, mouth hanging open and eyebrows rose as he stared into the face of an angel. A pretty dark haired tall angel.
Why had he bumped into her?
Why had he ruined her drink?
Why was his dad yelling?
Why did Merlin love to torture the Pratts?

The Angel (Flora was it?) cleaned them up and asked if it was his relative hollering at them but Noah could only stare, dumbfounded. No wonder his pap didn’t ever bring them to work, surely, he knew Noah would fall in love in an instant?

“No way!” The Yorkshire boy quickly responded. There was no way he was related to the moron hollering at them across the office. Flora clearly didn’t like that moron.

Behind him, Natasha ran up, grabbing her brother by the arm just as Flora asked if he was called Norman! Noah wrestled his arm free of his sister’s grabbing hands and shook his head. Words really seemed to be evading him.

“Natasha.” Tash held her hand out proudly to Flora the angel and Noah still stared. “And my brother, Norman.”

Rumour has it the Storminator (to most of you, Professor Storm) has a heart and his own personal healer! She can't heal him happy though!

“FIVE…FOUR…THREE…TWO…CRUD!!” The broom handle was flung to the wet ground and the eleven year old boy launched himself off the giant rock, skidding on the wet mud and landing hard on his rear. Recovering as stealthily as an unbalanced squid could, Noah leapt to his feet and started to ‘leg it’ to the lane at the end of the field. “Crud crud crud crud crud…” He continually repeated, slipping on the mud until he jumped the gate and sprinted down the lane back home.

It was a few minutes after the deadline that the young wizard threw himself through the backdoor and he definitely appeared to have seen better days. His clothes could have leapt off his body and walked themselves!

What Noah Pratt had been up to in the field, Merlin knew. Or rather, it was probably best that Merlin didn’t ask. Or Mum. She was safer not knowing.

“Mam!” Visibly out of breath, the boy was leaning forward, hands resting on his knees as he tried to recover from the exertion of energy. “The cow wouldn’t let me out of the field. Kept groanin’ at me and cows are bloomin’ scary when they groan!” He managed to say through heavy breaths.

Whatever a prime minister apparently was, Noah didn’t think he’d care for it if there was two. Maybe his dad and Auror Trevelyan couldn’t both be Minister for Magic. It was therefore far more sensible to have his dad as the minster and Gwenna’s as a deputy because she was a girl and he was a leprechaun. Eddie Pratt had already been the head auror for a bit so he had the experience. All Mr Trevelyan did was annoy his colleagues, according to his dad.

Senior auror was sort of acceptable, Noah supposed. It was a start and would get their dads more money to give to them so they could afford to look after Benedict properly and be responsible owners.

“Senior aurors. Ok.” He glanced at the parchment before back up at Gwenna. “don’t go making this all sparky and looking like a fairy’s pooed on it. She needs to take this seriously or Benedict will never be looked after properly.” He knew what Gwenna was like. Every sodding note she sent him ended up covered in glitter and sparking and the glitter very often ended up on his black robes. Why was he friends with a girl!?!

“So reasons…” concentration creased the boy’s youthful features and he scowled at the parchment. “One, they are the best and no one is better than them. Two, they are now old. Senior aurors are old. Three, they have families to look after. You pay them rubbish.  Four, you hold Benedict’s life in yer hands. Do you want him to die?”

What did they feel? Hmmm….. Noah’s face twisted in concentration, his lips pressed and eyebrows knitted together.

“Dear Missus Raynor…There’s summit’ we feel should be brought to your attention.” He dictated slowly, as a spider crawled up and over their pillows. A smirk twisted upon his lips and he reached for it, grabbing the great furry thing and holding it between two sweaty palms to prevent escape. This would be used when the silly Gwenna refused to call Benedict by his real name. And next time she tried denying that her dad was a leprechaun becuas ehis dad says he was and his dad was a clever man.

“Ye ‘ave two amazin’ aurors workin’ at the ministry and they don’t get the…the…” once more the young boy’s face screwed up in thought. “the recog…recoge….recogshan they deserve.” A pause before Noah rattled off more of a letter Gwenna should be writing. “I…we think you’ll agree that they should be the new ministers of magic.”

Noah frowned. “Or is that too much? My dad’s head would get too big if he was the ministry for magic. Mum always says his head won’t fit through doors soon… But it doesn’t look that big.”

For the few moments that Gwenna’s mouth was moving without anything sensible coming out Noah found himself wondering why he put up with her as a friend. She was quite obviously doolally because she thought that her dad was cooler than his. But Noah knew different. His dad, as annoying as he may be, was the best auror that there was. His mam had told him that and so did all of his pa’s scars. There were hundreds of them. All Eddie said Auror Trevelyan had was freckles and tomato hair. How would Missus Dragonlady prefer that??

But instead of revealing this real truth to Gwenna, Noah decided to take the higher ground and leave her to her doolally weirdness.

Oh who was he kidding?

“I don’t want her at me ‘ouse for dinner. Pa says she’s a eegositcal wench with a height comp licks!” Not that he knew what any of it meant but it sounded good! But Eddie had also said Tamis Raynor was a dragon lady. Noah had never met a dragon lady before

The frown on Noah’s face softened when his handwriting was insulted. He knew that much was true! A grin twisted his lips and he shoved the parchment in her direction. “Fine. But I’m drawing a picture of what we want! And this letter needs to sound smart. Like a couple’o adults wrote it.”

Regardless of the fact they had to protect the egg until the dragon hatched, Noah still didn’t understand why they had to use all of their pillows to do so! It wasn’t as if the egg was going to be that big. But that was Gwenna, she was always more bothered than him. Like she actually did her work and passed her classes. Noah just spent him time cooking up more exciting things to do for when she’d stopped being boring and working.

“Falkor!?” The boy exclaimed for the gazillionth time that day. “He ‘ent called Falkor. That’s just…stupid.” It sounded more like a dinosaur. Benedict wasn’t going to be a dinosaur. He was going to be a dragon. And he was going to help Noah take down the Storminator when he was fully grown. Storm wouldn’t be able to fail him if Noah had a dragon to chew him all up and spit him out. In fact, Benedict would eat all of their professors! And dark wizards! And he’d fly Noah to Romania to capture more dragons. Then they’d have an army.

Now that the fort was complete, Noah proceeded to crawl inside, waiting for Gwenna to join him.
“But if she sees yer handwritin’ I don’t think she’ll respond nicely. Pa said she don’t like yer dad.  She don’t like Cornish Leprercoorns, he said. Best I write it.” The boy pulled some parchment from his bad and crossed his legs. “It were my idea to build the fort.” So from here on out, everything else was no his idea as well!

“Aren’t our sheets gonna’ get wet if it rains? I don’t know any waterproofin’ spells yet.” In reality Noah hadn’t learnt how to do many spells they’d been taught since September. The only ones he could really do where them his parents had taught him before school and the ones in his really awesome book about battling evilness in 6 easy steps. Listening in class was overrated.  But now the young boy suddenly found himself wishing he had paid attention after he and Gwenna had considered it a good idea to bring their bedding outside (amazingly unnoticed by any of the castle's inhabitants) in order to create a fort/dragon keep in anticipated arrival of the dragon they were planning to procure and raise as their own.

Unfortunately, as the fort was completed, it became very clear that this would not be a practical home for their new dragon pet. He’d get wet when it rained, as soon as he started breathing fire the sheets would turn to cinders and within a few months he’d have outgrown their lovingly created fort. Not to mention the fact that the future dragon handlers didn’t have replacement bedding. Noah hadn’t even considered what he would sleep on when he got back to his dorm that night. That had been an oversight and a half!

“And do dragons even use pillows?” The Yorkshire boy demanded of his friend as he peered into the fort staring ruefully at their pillows piled up on the ground. He liked his pillow. He didn’t want to just give it away. But wasn’t keeping a dragon supposed to be a selfless act that would make him and Gwenna better people? And super cool of course! Who else at Hogwarts raised dragons, after all?

Face screwed up, Noah stood back up and turned to the young Miss Trevelyan.
“I don’t think Benedict is going to like this much.”

After having his head hit, Noah decides to throw this one at Gwenna’s face while their professor isn’t looking. He offers her a grin and turns back in his seat.

---

I'm Sirius too!

Storm definitely! He’s a brains eater. Look, this is my pa saving us from him.



What if he tried to eat you? I’d give him a Slytherin instead. You’d get stuck in his teeth.

Your saviour, Noah!

This message is scribbled in barely legible handwriting with ink splodges. It is folded into an airplane.

---

Gwennie,

You.

He found out about last night in the forest. Be careful. There are giant sprout monsters afoot.

Hide.

Your pap won’t be happy.

It was ok knowing you.

Special Agent Pratt

Poo, poo, poo, poo, poo! The thoughts in Noah Pratt’s mind were decidedly dirty and smelly as he sprinted full pelt through the entrance courtyard towards the main grounds where their flying lesson was being held. He’d become distracted over lunch and completely forgotten about the fact he was expected at this class after having failed to listen and hence failed the course before Christmas. Now he was taking remedial flying and dealing with his father’s annoyance over the matter.

Distinctly shabby looking and out of breath, Noah finally arrived on the lawn where several of his peers were concentrating so hard on raising shakey broomsticks, looking lost or in deep deep concentration. A couple, Noah remarked silently, appeared to need a visit to the lavatory. He grinned to himself while bending over and trying to regain his breath. Running was tiring work after such a bit tasty lunch!

Why Noah had to failed the class the first time around was beyond the young boy. He’d played quidditch in the backgarden with his dad tons of times. His pa had even been on the school team in his days! Noah could fly! He’d just had to deal with lots of shouting from the teacher. Apparently he wasn’t safe enough. But he was still alive! Auror Pratt was still alive as well!

“Sorry Madam Hooch!” He finally came out with, standing beside a spare broom. “It was ribs for lunch.” And that explained everything.