The Hufflepuff Trilogy, Book One - The Cup

The elderly woman lay on her bed, breathing in rasping gasps. Her once-lustrous golden red curls now lay in lank white strands around her face. Her hazel eyes were open, but you could still see the fire they had once held. They were roving, yet always returning to the closed door directly in front of the bed, as if someone was to open it at any moment.

And open it did. A young man entered tentatively, fearfully. His gaze landed on the woman, and he drew in a sharp breath. "Mother Helga, no!" he cried as he rushed to her side. "You can't be dying, can't be," he sobbed.

"Edgar," she said, and though she only had enough strength for a few words at a time, her voice still rang out clearly in the darkened room. "Do not be saddened... this has been coming... I have lived far beyond my years. You know this to be true. Do not deny it," she added sharply as the young man gave signs of wanting to protest. "My time has come."

"But how will the school run without you?" Edgar asked. "I have no experience. The others will leave when they hear of your..." He trailed off.

"Death?" the woman said. "Do not fear. I have trust in those whom I have appointed."

"But, Mother Helga, you do not know them like I do," Edgar explained. "They stay only because of fear and false loyalty. They want fame, prestige, power... and the one thing keeping them here is you."

"Edgar," Mother Helga warned, "I trust them, and if I am keeping them here, then you will too."

Edgar flinched. "I?" he questioned.

"Aye," Helga chuckled a little at her weak joke, but soon succumbed to a fit of coughing. Recovering, she said, "Edgar, you will be my successor. Take this cup as proof of your claim," and she gestured to a small golden goblet sitting on a dresser. It shone brightly, acting as a candle for the room. A badger, rearing on its hind legs, was engraved upon it, a symbol of resilience and hard work.

"Your cup? But I could not possibly take such a valuable item, unless so stated in your will," said Edgar.

"And so it is in my will. I have had one written. It lies in the desk yonder," Helga breathed slowly and deeply as Edgar swiftly glanced at the specified furniture. "You... will lead Hogwarts in my absence."

"But it will not be an absence." Edgar's eyes shone with tears. "You will be gone, never to return. What will I do without you?"

"You have been like a son to me, Edgar," Helga said proudly. "And I know you perhaps better than you know yourself. You can do it, and you will. Everything is explained in the letter I wrote to you..." She breathed in again, rattling, knowing that it would be soon.

"What letter?" Edgar cried desperately. "Mother Helga, don't leave me!"

Helga's smile was tender. "You will be... a great leader, Edgar. And you have made me proud. Now go, take the will and the cup. Leave me. I wish to be in peace."

Edgar collected the items and managed a last, choked "Goodbye, Mother Helga" before hurriedly leaving the room.

Helga Hufflepuff, the last surviving founder of Hogwarts, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was to be her last.

"And so," the speaker concluded, "we offer our condolences to Helga's friends and family, and will send her off the way she wished: in a plain coffin, buried in an unknown location." He waved his wand, and the coffin vanished, now deep in the Forbidden Forest. Only one person knew of its location, and he was determined not to tell.

"We now give up the floor to Mr. Edgar Smithe!" exclaimed the man. Edgar sighed. Only one week had gone by since Helga's passing, and he had spent most of it in seclusion. He stood up, however, and acknowledged the crowd with a brief wave of his hand.

Clearing his throat, he took a stand behind the small, altar-like table on which his notes were laid. "Men and women," he began, then stopped. He brought out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes before continuing. "As you all know, we are gathered here to commemorate Helga Hufflepuff. As our esteemed speaker has already given a touching speech on her virtues and life, many of you are probably wondering why I am up here." Most of the crowd nodded, intense looks on their faces. "I am here to read her will."

Gasps echoed throughout the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Those who felt that they had known Hufflepuff personally had greed etched upon their faces, while most of the others looked merely interested. Edgar drew out the envelope he had found in Helga's desk drawer and broke the seal. All eyes were now on him. Inside, Edgar found two pieces of paper. One was addressed Edgar. The other was labeled as The Will of Helga Hufflepuff. Taking out the second paper, Edgar began to read.

"I, Helga Hufflepuff, founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, here state my will. I leave everything in my personal possession to my most loyal student, Mr. Edgar Smithe." Edgar was stunned. Mother Helga had owned many valuable objects, though none so valuable as the cup she had given him the night of her death. Cries of outrage erupted from the crowd, the loudest from Hufflepuff's family. Though she had had no close relatives, anybody who had any distant relation to her had come expecting much.

The funeral speaker stood up. "Calm down, calm down. Let Mr. Smithe finish!" he yelled above the din of the crowd.

"Thank you," Edgar said when the noise was bearable again. "Now, here we are. I also leave Mr. Smithe in charge of Hogwarts School, as he is more than capable of doing this. To prove his claim, I have left him the cup engraved with my crest. Anyone searching my Gringotts vault will not find it there. Anyone who disagrees with my decision will be dealt with as Mr. Smithe sees fit.

"All items belonging to me because they were owned by Hogwarts are to remain there, to be used by the professors and students. Here ends my will." The document was signed with an elaborate signature: Helga Hufflepuff.

Edgar expected the crowd to go wild again, but there was complete silence. He saw his colleagues looking murderous, and many others looking bewildered. But no one spoke.

Then one official-looking man stood. He had on long black robes that were embroidered with a symbol. It appeared to be a capital M. "Mr. Smithe, we at the Ministry-"

"Excuse me, the what?" Edgar interrupted.

The man looked annoyed. "The Ministry of Magic. Surely you've heard of us?"

"Sorry, no," Edgar said.

"The Ministry of Magic is a new organization (Well, that explains why I haven't heard about it, Edgar thought) that seeks to improve the life of every witch and wizard in Britain. We are currently conducting surveys of every wizarding group that calls itself independent and readying them for our rules to supersede their own. Since your predecessor fought against us so - valiantly, we are here to ask you whether you will consent to work with us to recreate Hogwarts under the name of the Ministry." The man finished his speech and sat down.

"Well, sir," Edgar began, "that was a lot of long words for a simple fact: you want to take over Hogwarts, is that right?"

The man paused, then nodded sheepishly.

"And we at Hogwarts do not want to be controlled by a political group that wants total rule. What's your name?"

"Why?" the man asked, looking wary.

"So I can address you when I am speaking to you," Edgar said, while thinking, So I can punish you.

"Robert Fudge," the man said reluctantly.

"Thank you, Mr. Fudge." Edgar readied himself for what he must say next. "Mr. Fudge, as the will I hold here says, anyone who disagrees that I should run Hogwarts should be dealt with as I see fit. First, I prove my claim by showing everyone here Hufflepuff's cup." He produced from inside his cloak the delicate, two-handled chalice and held it aloft. "Second, since you appear to doubt my new position-"

"Not at all, not at all," Fudge tittered nervously. "I was just offering the help of the Ministry-"

"Which I do not want!" thundered Edgar. "Now, since I have just come into this position, I will not punish you harshly. However, you shall be ejected from this funeral service. We are here to bemoan the loss of Helga Hufflepuff, not engage in shouting matches over the deceased's will! Now begone!"

Fudge frantically looked around him for help, but seeing the stony faces turned upon him, he Disapparated with, not so much of a crack, but more of a resigned pop.

Applause greeted his disappearance. Edgar felt his sudden, unexpected courage drain him as he said, "Fellow teachers of Hogwarts, I wish to see you in my office tomorrow morning at nine o' clock AM sharp." He wanted tonight to himself, to read the letter from Helga. Who knew what it contained?

Walking to his office and bedroom, Edgar realized what a foolish move it had been to threaten Fudge like that. No doubt he would report back to his superiors, whoever they might be. What was I thinking?

Patting his pocket, where the letter still lay tucked away, he opened the door to his small room. It was located on a small stretch of hallway, close to the offices of the four founders. Identical rooms for the other teachers were on both sides of the hallway, about fifteen total. Edgar wondered where he would stay after this; if he was in charge of Hogwarts, would he get one of the founder's rooms? Which one would he keep? It probably all depended on the other professors. They didn't even want him in charge. As the obscure Ancient Languages and Symbols teacher, most students had never even heard his name. He sighed. If he had to do this alone, without support from anybody, Hogwarts might just as well close down tomorrow.

He locked his door, then pulled the embossed cup out of a small velvet bag at his waist. He turned it over and over in his hands. The way it caught the light was exceptional, almost as if it produced it itself. Edgar drew his thoughts away from the goblet and set it on his dresser.

He lay down on his bed, still tense from the encounter with Fudge. How had that man gotten into Helga's funeral, anyways? Edgar had certainly not invited him, that was for sure. Maybe one of the professors? But why would they do that?

Edgar stood up again. He would likely find out more tomorrow, in his meeting. But now, he needed to read the letter. He pulled it out and caressed the dedication on the front. He would never see Helga's writing again. A single tear plopped onto the creamy parchment envelope. Wiping it away hurriedly, Edgar ripped the letter open with his small knife. He was about to pull it out when a strange flashing alerted him.

Edgar glanced around. His eyes fell on the golden cup, which was lighting up intermittently. Suddenly, the window smashed. "What...?" Edgar grumbled, hurrying to inspect it. When he reached it, however, a cold wind blew through the broken stained glass pieces and whipped the letter out of Edgar's hands. "NO!" he yelled, ignoring the pieces of glass cutting his feet open as he ran to stick his face into the night.

The wind was blowing furiously, and the small paper had no chance. Soaked and torn up by the rain, it was soon hopelessly beyond repair even as it disappeared from sight. Edgar just gaped. Now he would never know Helga's final words. And all because of that stupid cup she had left him.

The cup! Angrily, Edgar ran to his dresser and grabbed the flashing cup. Shaking it vigorously, he tried to order his thoughts. The cup had started blinking, then the window smashed and he lost the letter... but why had the window crashed open? And why was the cup lighting up in the first place?

Then silently and suddenly, Edgar's door opened quickly. Two hooded figures stood in the doorway, wands pointed at Edgar's heart.

"Why isn't he at the window?" one of them growled.

"Dunno," the other replied.

What in the world? Edgar thought. Why are these two buffoons here? "Both of you put your wands down and your hands up," he instructed, fishing his own out of his pocket and lowering it to the same level that theirs were.

"Two against one," the first intruder said, laughing derisively. Both of the black-clad figures then swept their wands in a swirling motion and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Edgar blocked the red jets of light easily, then wordlessly knocked both to the ground with a single swipe of his wand. Kicking their wands away into a corner of his room, he muttered, “Ennervate,” above one of them.

The man stirred sluggishly, “It’s not my fault, not my fault,” he mumbled, then opened his eyes. His hood had fallen off, and his face was clearly visible. He had a large, square jaw, dark with stubble, and his eyes were a startling blue. His dark hair was cut short so as not to get in the way, and his head was oddly ovular-shaped. His nose appeared to have been squashed, as it was sunken deep into his face. As he focused on Edgar, he began yelling, “You! Get away from the school, imposter!”

Edgar didn’t bother with words, but Stupefied the man again. He fell back against the floor with a hard bang. No brain cells lost on this one, Edgar couldn’t help thinking. As he moved onto the second man, the prostrate figure suddenly lifted his head. “Don’t kill me,” he whispered. “I’ll tell you everything I knows.”

“And what is it that you know?” Edgar asked.

“Uh, not much,” the man confessed. “We was just sent here to, uh, sorry, kill you.”

“By whom?” Edgar interrogated further.

“Dunno, just some guy tells us in Diagon Alley that we gots to come here, to kill—“

“Yes, I know that part already” Edgar interrupted, waving his hand impatiently, “You don’t know anything about the person who gave you the job?”

“No,” the man said. “Hood, told us to wear hoods, too, and, uh, short. Yeah, for sure short.”

“Hmm,” Edgar mused. Nothing here helpful, even once one figured out the atrocious grammar. “Well, thank you, sir, but I’m sorry, I’m going to have to throw you out with the other one, just to erase suspicion.”

The man frowned. “Wha—“ he began to say before Edgar’s spell hit him square on the chest and he collapsed.

“I said I was sorry,” Edgar explained to the unconscious man. “Now, just to find out why this happened,” he muttered to himself. His gaze alighting on the cup, Edgar picked it up again. Turning it over in his hands, he touched the badger crest on the front. The cup was trying to save me, he realized. It has magical powers untold. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Now what? Who wants me to leave Hogwarts?”

Edgar tossed and turned in bed. Hooded figures shot jets of green light at him, yet always seemed to hide their faces before he could get near. The cup floated toward him, as large as he was, and the badger on the front rearranged itself into Helga’s face. “Do not fail me, Edgar,” she said. “You will be a great leader.”

“Come back!” he wailed as her face shrank and disappeared. Then a spell hit him in the back, and the dream dissolved into blackness.

He sat up, panting. He had almost seen the face of his attacker, but nothing was clearer now than it had been in the dream. Only Helga’s features had stood out in the midst of the shadows, the cup providing the light for him to see. Edgar pounded his fist against his bedcovers in frustration. Everything was being hidden from him. Rolling over, he tried to fall back asleep, but rest escaped him that night.

***
The faces looking up at him were either bored, angry, or a mix of the two. Though they were familiar, Edgar was more nervous than he had ever been. He knew these people. They were probably plotting ways to kill him right now. Who had sent those men? Edgar scanned the faces of his coworkers. Clearing his throat, he announced, “So, as you all know, I have been appointed the leader of Hogwarts in the passing of Madam Hufflepuff—“

“Who didn’t really have the right!” a voice interjected. It was Horatio the Red Lion, successor of Godric Gryffindor and a generally hotheaded firebrand. “As we all know,” Horatio continued, “this school was built by four founders. Madam Hufflepuff only took charge of the school because she was the last one. That doesn’t mean you should be the sole leader of Hogwarts. I say, let there be four once again!”

This was greeted by claps from most of the Hall. The most enthusiastic came from Georgette Greenhand and Wylmina of the Eagle Hills. “Hear, hear!” they cried. “Let there be four!”

“Now, if you would just listen—” Edgar tried to say, but the other teachers drowned him out.

“Four, four, four!” they chanted.

Edgar felt anger building up inside him, like a raging torrent of water only barely being held back by a dam. “Listen!” he shouted, and the hall, shocked, fell silent. “Now,” he began, “what I was going to say, was that I don’t know why Madam Hufflepuff chose me—” Horatio snorted, still glaring – “but she did. However, I can’t lead this school alone. My suggestion is to appoint deputies to run the school, all beneath me. One from each house. Four.”

A glimmer of understanding seemed to dawn on the faces below him. “These deputies,” Edgar continued, “would basically have the run of the school. I would give each one the powers to lead the other teachers, while still continuing their normal teaching duties. In addition, each deputy would have full run of their respective house. Any detention given to a student must be reported to the Head of House. Also,” Edgar paused for more effect, “the deputies would inherit the founders’ offices.”

Clamors arose from the crowd. “The founders’ offices!” “—deputies—” “Sounds pretty good to me…” Then one voice drowned all the others’ out.

It was Horatio, again. “I demand full privileges of the noble house of Gryffindor!” he bellowed.

“Fine,” Edgar agreed, knowing the futility of arguing with Horatio. “You can be the first deputy.”

Horatio puffed out his chest and sat down, looking superior.

Edgar scanned the teachers. “Georgette, I assign you to the house of Slytherin, and Wylmina, as the successor of Ravenclaw, you may lead that house.” Both women appeared to be satisfied, and nodded haughtily at him. “And for Hufflepuff…” Edgar contemplated his options. His original thought was for himself to lead Hufflepuff, but after seeing the recent display, he knew that to claim too much power would cause more trouble than it was worth.

“What about me?”

Edgar looked down and finally realized who the small voice had been. Gregor “Mack” MacMillan. Smiling, he said, “Yes, perfect.” Mack had been one of his closest friends while at school himself, but lately they had become estranged, due to Edgar’s closer relationship with Hufflepuff. Edgar clapped his hands. “Well, I think that concludes this meeting! Hands up if you agree with my chosen deputies.”
Every hand was raised, though some wavered when their owner’s eyes caught upon Mack. “It’s unanimous, then,” he said, and then gestured to the four new deputies. He led them out of the hall and into a small back room nearby.

“A few words,” he instructed. “One: do not treat your fellow teachers with disrespect.”

Three heads bobbed. Horatio hesitated, then nodded as well.

“Two: I trust you to take care of your students.”

Again, everyone agreed.

“And three,” Edgar glanced at his deputies, who were waiting expectantly, “do not cross me. I am in charge here, and I will not take disrespect…from any of you.”

All four deputies looked wary, but when Edgar glared at them, they all said, “Yes,” and hurriedly left the closet.

“Wait, Mack,” Edgar called.

The plump man halted, then turned around, a smile on his face. “Yes, Edgar?”

“Er, due to the, er, lack of suitable offices, I’m going to be taking Mother Helga’s office. I’m sorry; I’ll find you someplace better soon, but for now, could you stay where you are?”

Something flashed across Mack’s face. Edgar couldn’t detect what it was, though, because it was soon gone. “Sure, Edgar,” Mack said, still grinning dimwittedly. “Whatever you say.”