Fox's Story

[Fox]

(Hi Peoples! I decided to make a fan fic of when my little Fox goes back to Canada for a week or two to be with his grandfather. I have permission from Ginny Weasley to use her character on this. It also gets a little weird from the third chapter or so... lolz... oh well. It's a start... ^^ Enjoy)

Chapter One

The Reunion

   "Grandfather... It's been years since I've seen the pig," Fox mused to himself as he sat in the back of a car, his arms crossed. He was visiting his grandfather, Trumble Wolfe Grayson. Fox was now sixteen, which meant he hadn't seen his grandfather for over five years. It would be an awkward meeting.
   As the Canadian slope slipped by past the cars windows, Fox thought deeply about his grandfather. There was no doubt in Fox's mind that his grandfather would not like what he saw, when he saw the boy. Oh definitely not. The old pig is no pleased by anything except money.
   Fox was now sixteen, and a fairly tall one, though not the tallest around. He was fairly handsome, being of part veela lineage. He had let his dirty-blonde hair grow out loose. It now flowed over his ears and was starting towards his shoulders. Startling green eyes looked intelligent and cunning. Fox wore black pants and a blue blouse, covered by a black robe that was open in the front. He didn't care what his grandfather felt about his school robes, it didn't matter. On his hands, there was a small, thin, silver band around his pinky. He looked at it fondly, and thought about the girl who had given it to him.
   Now Fox started to play with the ring, not having anything else to do. They would be at the manor soon, and Fox was anxious. He sighed and wished that he was with his adopted family right now, the Weasleys. Toying with the ring seemed to bring back memories.

   There he was, at fourteen, coming down to the Common Room. Ginny was there, waiting for him and sitting on one of the sofas. It was Christmas, and she smiled brightly when he came down. He yawned and stumbled down the last of the stairs. Then he went over to Ginny.
   "Open this!" she had said to him, shoving him a small, little box. He plopped himself onto the sofa beside her and gingerly took the small box. He smiled up at her before taking off the lid. Inside, there was a small silver band gleaming up at him. He blinked and looked at Ginny. It was too small for his ring finger.
   "Put it on your pinky. Remember that promise we made when I first met you? That we would be siblings forever? It's supposed to remind you of that," Ginny explained, taking the ring on holding his hand so she could slip the band on, "There you go."
   
   Fox looked at the ring thoughtfully and then frowned in concentration. Couldn't they still mind speak, even if they were thousands of miles away? He was going to try it, and hopefully get results.
   ~Ginny?~ Fox asked. He looked for her familiar mind presence, ~Ginny!~
   ~Yes, Fox?~ A weak reply came. There was surprise in her thoughts and she strengthened her voice, ~I'm not supposed to sense you here. Are you in Canada?~
   ~Yes, and I'm almost to my Grandfather's house.~ Fox reply, making his voice stronger as well. The car turned a curve and he lost the thread of the conversation for a second as he spotted the manor. Fear that had been buried for years started to bubble up again and he gulped, ~Sorry, Gin. We're here, and I'm... scared!~
   ~Don't be, you have no reason. Oh no. Hogwarts business. I'll try to talk to you later. Until then. Good luck with your Grandfather!~ Ginny said. She had at first sounded worried for him, but then alert as she finished about the Hogwarts business. Fox knew better than to disturb her when it was that type of business. He slumped in the seat for a moment, but the car stopped and he regain composure.
   The door opened, and he stepped out, looking at the large house his grandfather lived in. It was very impressive, but frightening at the same time. Fox knew that the maids would take care of his bags, so he climbed the short staircase to the house. Entering the familiar, yet not familiar, territory, Fox looked around. A man appeared beside him, "Sir Trumble Wolfe Grayson waits for you, young Master Fox. Follow me."
   Fox shrugged and went with the man. He was nervous, but when he slid his hand into one of his pockets and felt the Oak wood wand there, he relaxed a little. His grandfather could try to beat him up, but Fox knew magic. That was something that he bested Wolfe in. They got to a door and the man pushed it open for Fox, "In you go."
   Fox walked down the fairly large room. He spotted his grandfather on the other side of the room, his back turned to Fox. Gulping, Fox moved forward until he was a few feet from his grandfather. Then the old man turned, looking as strong and muscular as ever, and scowled at the boy.
   "Trumble Fox Grayson... pitiful," Wolfe said, crossing his muscular arms in front of him. He scowled more, "You are still no grandson of mine."
   Fox winced a little at the name. He had never been called 'Trumble,' and he rather disliked that name. He stood taller though, "Sadly, Grandfather, you can only wish that. For I am your grandson, Grandfather."
   "Shut up, you brat!" Wolfe roared, taking a swipe at Fox. Fox raised his hand slightly and blocked the fist like it was swatting a fly away. Fox had had many years of self-defense at Hogwarts, just for this. Wolfe grew red and growled, "You dare defy me?! You are worthless and no match for me! Look at you, all skin and bones. You took after your pitiful mother! You were definitely named properly. No fox pup could hope to be a match for a full-grown wolf."
   Trumble Wolfe Grayson... the most uncaring grandfather in the world. He didn't care about Fox at all. Fox, to him, was just a horrible liability that cost money to keep. Something he didn't care for. He loved money and wealth, and thought nothing of the poor boy he had once cared for. That was the whole reason he sent Fox to a boarding school, though Fox had managed to luck out of that particular boarding school Wolfe had sighed him up for. Fox heard it was the nasty type, but he had gone to Hogwarts instead, without his grandfather's knowledge.
   "A fox is not built to be a match for a wolf in sheer strength, that is true, but a wolf could not dream to be a match for a fox in cunning, grandfather," Fox retorted smoothly, softly, and cooly. Fox looked at his grandfather with his startling green eyes that were as full of knowledge as his grandfather was full of muscles.
   Wolfe raised his hand to smack Fox across the face, as he had done so many times before. He was going to yell, "You little, ungrateful brat," but Fox looked at him.
   "Do you really need to resort to violence, grandfather. It will do you no good. I am fast on my feet, and could dodge every shot you took at me," Fox said, keeping that cool aura around him. There was a hand on his chin, and he was rubbing it casually. No hair grew on his fair face, and probably wouldn't his whole life. He smirked slightly, and then raised an eyebrow, "Never mind, try it. I dare you, Grandfather, to hit me."
   Wolfe flushed, he hated being reminded that this brat was related to him. Wolfe narrowed his eyes, "Fine, you little-"
   He swung as he was saying that, but stopped when his swipe did not connect. He looked around, and didn't see Fox.
   "Right here, Grandfather," Fox said, pushing some hair from his face and letting the waves play behind his ears. Fox widened his eyes in innocence, "Oh, didn't you see me?"
   Wolfe looked at Fox, who was now beside him, "You arrogant-"
   Fox moved again, too fast for his grandfather to see, "Behind you."
   Wolfe spun, and glared at his grandson, who looked like he was just taking a stroll in a park. He growled lowly, "How the heck did you get so fast?"
   "Does it really matter to you, grandfather? Humph, this meeting is over. I might see you at dinner," Fox said, already stalking away. He ignored his grandfather and started through a door to his room.
   "WAIT!" Wolfe roared. He came crashing through the doorway to find Fox sighing helplessly, a hand on his forehead, and shaking his head slowly. Wolfe determined that he had the advantage, "This is my house still, and you only are here because I let you be here. You are a coward. What's this?! You put on a show out there, and then the second out of my sight, your breaking down?! Fool!"
   "Grandfather, the reason I am like this... is because people in England could have heard you coming. Do you hear my footsteps? I do not think it is likely," Fox said, exasperated. He kept shaking his head and continued down the hall.
   His words left Wolfe grasping for words. He started to form a thought.
   ~Shut it.~ A voice like Fox's said in his head, ~You don't really want to talk to me, and I'm sick of you. Don't bother with it.~
   When Wolfe looked at his grandson in bewilderment, Fox had stopped at a door and was staring at Wolfe with a very bored look. He connected eyes for a moment before walking into the room.

[LavyBrown]

this is very well written, please continue I want to know what happens next.

[Fox]

(Sorry that I haven't posted here in a while. I was caught up in some stuff... lolz. Well... On with the story!)

Chapter Two

Old Memories

   When Fox entered the room, he sighed and looked at his old room. His packs were there, as he had been promised. Fox sat on the bed and gazed at the barren walls, the plain furnishings, and the small window that had once seemed big to him. This place was more bleak than a prison cell. Fox only chuckled a little, "Not changed at all, eh?"
   This room was worse than a prison cell, most definite. At least there were no bars across the window. That would change, though, if Fox kept up the attitude, which he planned to do. He didn't care anymore. He had real friends. True friends in England that he could contact via minds, though it took a lot out of him.
   Fox jumped off of the bed, energy restored by his win over his grandfather at the first time meeting. He had adrenaline pumping through him at the contact. He decided to unpack now, or he would forget. He was staying here for a week. That was all he or his grandfather could bear to be together. Then it would be back to the Weasley's. He could not wait to be back in a place where he could talk about spells and magic.
   After he had sorted everything, including putting his dear, little, battered fox plusie on the bed, he changed into black riding leathers. Then he dumped the bags into the corner of the room. He had to leave the manor for a while and find the muggle named Dorothy Hammel. She was the girl he remembered bumping into when he was very young. He still hadn't apologized for being such a jerk, and he was determined to set it right.
   Sneaking out the back door was easiest, though it had to pass by his grandfather's room. Fox shrugged and tiptoed past. A floorboard creaked. Fox cursed silently. Most of the manor floors were stone, with lush carpets over them. The bedroom wing, though, had wood instead. Fox had forgotten about the creaking floorboard. Fox blamed Peeves, as he did not want to say anything terrible. Peeves was the ghost he took everything out on, since Peeves had been so rude to him.
   "Who's there!" Wolfe roared through the door.
   Fox froze. Breathing heavily, he thought about all of the servants in the manor. Using a fake voice, Fox said softly, "Sorry, m'lord. I was getting a glass of water. Very sorry, m'lord!"
   "For whom?!" Wolfe growled.
   Fox was starting to worry that his grandfather would open the door, "For Master Fox, m'lord!"
   "Get one for me, but don't give him any. Don't talk to him. He is a brat who doesn't deserve it!" Wolfe growled again.
   Fox sighed in relief. He could send a servant to do that. Fox remembered to reply, "Yes, m'lord. Will do, m'lord. No talking to Master Fox. And a water for you. Be right there, m'lord."
   "Go!" Wolfe roared again.
   Fox scurried like a servant down the rest of the hall. The first servant he saw avoided him, but soon Fox caught up with the boy, "Get my grandfather a glass of water. Don't tell him that I told you. Got it?"
   The boy gulped and cast his eyes down. Fox knew that this boy must have been told to ignore him. Fox growled, "Just do it, boy!"
   In a very small voice, the boy replied, "Yes, Master Fox."
   "Thank you," Fox said before walking quickly away. The boy was hurrying to the kitchens. Fox nodded and stole out the back entrance slowly. When he was out, Fox took a deep breath of the forest air.
   Fox snapped to attention and looked around. He swore that his grandfather had horses around somewhere. They were an old sort of transportation, but the car was out of the question. The manservant wouldn't let him ride in it. Fox spotted the stables a little bit away. Running up to the building, he entered slowly.
   Fox walked up the stalls and saw many new horses. There were stablemen that froze once they saw him. Grandfather must have had a meeting with all of the servants before I came. Hmm...
   Fox walked up quietly to one of the men and asked in a sure tone, "Get me a horse. I don't really care which one, but a horse that I can ride. Just not an old and tired one. A fresh horse. Now."
   "M'lord Fox... we was told that we weren't ta give ya a nag. We was told not ta talk ta ya," the stableman said.
   "So? I don't care. Get me a horse. Now, or else," Fox said with authority, staring the man down.
   "Yessum, m'lord," the stableman finally said, shuffling to get a horse. When he arrived, it was obvious that Fox's previous instructions had been noted. In front of him stood a fine, sleek, black gelding. He was a magnificent creature, with broad muscles and a swift look to him. The stableman had thrown on some black tack with the horse. He checked it throughly and walked up to Fox, "Be this to yer liken', m'lord?"
   "Yes, he'll do fine," Fox said with a small smile. Straitening his clothing, Fox mounted. He hadn't ridden a horse for a while, but that didn't really matter. He was good when he left, and his skill would return with a little practice. Fox looked down at the man, "Thank you. I should be back before sun-down. If not, leave a light out for me. I've got to do a little deed before returning.
   Dorothy Hammel... He knew where she currently lived. He had gone to great lengths to find her. She would be fifteen now, and, by what he had heard, very attractive. Not that Fox really cared. Fox rode down the road of the manor and out a side gate. After the gate, he started to gallop, the gelding whinnying with joy of the exercise. Fox patted the horse's neck softly.
   "Come on! To Dorothy Hammel's!" Fox yelled happily. He slowed the gelding to a trot and continued the journey. Dorothy still lived about six miles from the manor. It wouldn't be far for Fox to get to, but he still enjoyed the ride. He found that his skill came back to him quicker than he had thought it would. After four miles, he thought that he might have had it almost down again.
   Mile five and six were spent thinking about what he would say to her. She had probably forgotten about it. It was so long ago, but painful memories of the "old" Fox, as Ginny deemed the old him, came to him often. Pushing down that young girl was one of them. He shuddered as he thought about it again. How had he ever thought that bullying was the way to go?
   Soon, Fox was in her outside her neighborhood. The place was not very crowded, with each house a very good distance from each other. Each person owned from two to five acres of land here. Dorothy was one of the one who were lucky to have seven acres. She had her own horse as well.
   Fox stopped the gelding an acre from her house, not finding it fit to bring him. He told the gelding to stay and eat the grass. Then, Fox walked up to the house. At the last second, when he was on their porch, Fox realized what he had been doing could be called stalking. He blinked and laughed a bit. He didn't really care. He had to do this.
   Fox pushed the button that would send the doorbell ringing. A pretty girl came running to the door. She was pretty, as Fox had heard. She opened the door excitedly, but stopped when she saw him. She didn't recognize him at all. She blinked again, "Umm... who are you?"
   Then she realized that she shouldn't even let him, a stranger, have a chance into the house. She shut the door quickly, but Fox stopped it with his foot, making a peace gesture.
   "I'm not here to hurt you, Dorothy. I never will hurt you again. I came to say that I am extremely sorry for what happened. Will you forgive me?" Fox rushed as Dorothy tried to close the door on his foot.
   Dorothy stopped and looked at him, "Do I know you?"
   "Yes. Remember when we were seven or eight or so? I pushed you onto the ground. I'm really sorry, but I never got a chance to apologize. I'm really very sorry," Fox said, looking at his squished foot.
   Dorothy's forehead burrowed as she tried to remember. After a minute or two, she gasped in surprise, "You're old Trumble's grandson?! You're the one who pushed me over?! But....... why come back and apologize. I had completely forgotten about it."
   "Because I still have that regret heavy upon my heart. I'm sure that somewhere in your heart, you still want revenge. I'm so very sorry. Will you forgive me?" Fox said, close to tears.
   "Sure. It's amazing you remembered. What's your name again?" Dorothy asked.
   "Fox, Fox Grayson," Fox said, looking up and smiling a little.
   "And your first name's Trumble, right?" Dorothy asked. She knew that Fox was named after his grandfather.
   Fox winced visibly and muttered very softly, "Yeah."
   "Man, oh man! I had pretty much forgotten about you... No, that's a lie... I forgot that you existed. I'm sorry myself," Dorothy said. She looked back into the house and called, "Mum! I'm going out for a ride! Be back before supper!"
   "'Kay, honey!" Came back a reply.
   "Thanks!" Dorothy jumped out the door and shut it behind her. Then she turned to look at Fox, "You know, you're kinda cute."
   Fox blushed, "No, not really. It's my vee- erm... from my mum's side."
   Dorothy shrugged, "Doesn't mean you're not cute."
   "Right," Fox said, shrugging as well. He looked at her, and shot back, "Well, you're pretty."
   "Am not. Where is your horse?" Dorothy asked.
   "Uh... over there. How'd you know I brought a horse?" Fox asked.
   "It's pretty obvious. The clothes. No car. You weren't going to walk here in riding leathers, now were you?" Dorothy reasoned.
   "Yeah," Fox said, smiling a little.
   "Let me get my horse, Star," Dorothy said, "Go fetch yours."

[Ginny Weasly]

Good job, Fox!