The Legend of Grand Nan Gwenhilda

 

Boggarts were said to come out during the hottest days. At least the old folk of Perrybrook thought so. During the winter it was too cold for the spirits, so they hibernated under lakes and streams, and the ancient glaciers and mountains. But once the ice melted and the heat grew, the boggarts became restless. This was one of those days.

The night was silent. Peter Pyman and his little sister Patsy were spending the night at their Grand Nan’s cottage on the banks of the Perrybrook river. They had just finished a filling supper of quail stew and scalloped potatoes and were preparing for dessert and tea, which was always accompanied by one of Grand Nan’s stories. The children sat down on furred carpets in the living room with chamomile honey tea and a tray of pixie cream pastries. They loved coming over to Grand Nan’s because it meant they could eat as much as they liked and listen to her never-ending collection of stories, on the exception that they did the dishes, which they always gladly did.

Tonight, the story was of Leona the lost princess, who with the help of the gnomes and dwarves founded the underground caverns lying beneath Perrybrook today. But they did not get through much of the story.

Cutting through the calm night, a sound of soft persistent scratching came from the front door of the cottage. The scratching grew to heavy scrapes and pounding on the wooden door.

“Grand Nan, what’s happening?” Peter whispered with pastries still in his mouth.

“They are here,” Grand Nan said, rolling her eyes.

“Who? The gnomes and dwarves?” Peter said as he and his sister began to cower amongst each other.

“No, little Peter. The boggarts, those pesky little devils. It’s been a hot day. Remember what I told you last week? You have no reason to fear them unless you are fearful”

From outside, garbled noises added to the disarray till the noises converged to a booming beast-like voice. “OPEN UP! OH, NANNY GWENHILDA, OPEN UP!”

“Never!” Grand Nan yelled, with ire in her voice, “Long have you despicable boggarts been a nuisance to me. Every summer you’ve plundered my garden and caused problems! Leave this home and go back to the wilderness!”

“OH, GWENHILDA, WE JUST WANT TO SAY HELLO AND MAYBE TRY SOME OF THOSE PASTRIES YOU BAKE. WE KNOW YOU HAVE A LOT. WE CAN SMELL THEM.” Peter and Patsy looked at each other nervously as they each chewed their cakes, pixie cream covering their hands and faces.

“You will not enter, you great oafs! Get that through your coarse heads. These cakes are not for you. I say once more, begone to the wilderness!” A chaotic laugh of yelps and howls ensued followed by a more sinister sound of approaching clawing and stamping on the roof of the house.

“Grand Nan, I think they are coming down the chimney” Patsy squeaked.

Grand Nan still sitting in her chair, yelled something in a foreign language, and instantly the fireplace lit and the scraping noises echoing down the chimney turned to frenzied screams.

“OOUH OW! AHH! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, GWENHILDA,” the booming Boggart’s voice sounded from the outside. “WE WILL COME IN. HE SENT US AND WE WILL HAVE OUR CAKES.” The sound of shattering glass followed, and groping hands, dark like a colorless abyss entered the broken window.

Grand Nan instantly stood up and seemed much taller than before. Her shoulders were broader, and her feet were planted in a wide stance on the floor. In her right hand, she held a peculiar wooden quarterstaff that Peter and Patsy had never seen before and in her left hand she held an equally peculiar lantern with light holes engraved in exotic patterns and text. Peter and Patsy had not seen her retrieve these items, but they were so frightened it was the least of their concerns.

“You have caused more than a nuisance this time. It’s time I teach you and your kind some manners.” The lantern began to glow with intense white light and wind began to blow in Grand Nan’s cottage.

What transpired next was more exciting than any fireside story Peter and Patsy could ever hear and was a tale they would tell their grandchildren. It would pass on through generations. That night fire, light, and darkness were said to have dueled and portals to worlds previously sealed were torn open for all to see. Peter and Patsy were not the only observers of this incident, but they were key figures. Some stories even painted them as the precocious children who defended the town from boggarts with their youthful wit. But in all the versions of the stories the feats of Grand Nan were voiced the strongest. Throughout Perrybrook these tales were told for so long they became folklore and as generations passed people believed them to be nothing more than a story. But still there remained a staunch few who were adamant about its veracity.