This parody is brought to you by my own inability to stop writing unecessarily flowery prose, my boredom, procrastination and the amusement and horror that I derive in equal measures from Mary Sues. It probably isn't perfect - but any praise, constructive criticism or flames are welcome. They'll be respectively *squee*-d over, appreciated and posted in ficflames for the amusement of all and sundry respectively. I hope you enjoy - none of the characters belong to me, of course - many thanks to J.K. Rowling for creating such fun books. I am not making any money off this. Feedback - you know you want to - email me or visit my journal
'The Shattered Heart of the Secret
Order of The Blackest Arts of Hogwarts'
by arabel
~*~
To
the outside observer, it might seem that the inhabitants of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry should be perfectly
at home with the thought of mortal danger stalking the school
corridors. Unfortunately, the outside observer would then have
to somehow account for the almost palpable air of fear that
hung in every corridor and common room.
Once again, charms and wards of every kind could be found absolutely everwhere.
Ravenclaw, Huffelpuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin all sporting the latest enchanted
necklaces, bracelets, perfumes and odds and ends - though the Wealsey twin's
attempt to sell Harry and Ron an "enchanted noseplug" had failed
rather dismally, to their disappointment.
Rumours, whispers and furtive glances also abounded.
"Harry, how many times do I have to tell you - it can't be a basilisk! Those
people aren't petrified, they're unconscious." Hermione's voice was tired
and exasperated.
"Yeah, well, what if it's a baby basilisk? Perhaps it can't fully petrify
people yet."
"Harry, have you actually heard anything speaking in Parseltongue?" asked
Ron, who sounded almost afraid of any possible answer.
Harry sighed. "No, I haven't. Hermione, you're probably right - but
there has to be something we could do. It doesn't feel right, just sitting
here waiting for the next person to go."
"Well, it's better than being out in the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by
who knows what horrible, multi-legged things," replied Ron, gloomily. "Something
like that always happens to us, though, so I 'spect we won't have to wait very
long anyway."
"You're not being very helpful, Ron," Hermione said tartly.
"I'm being realistic, though," he muttered under his breath.
~*~
People were so unnerved as to fidget even through Snape's potions class.
While this would normally earn even a Slytherin a scathing glare, and a Gryffindor
detention or worse, the potions master himself seemed as distracted as his
students. He hardly spared the energy to sneer at his student's pathetic
concoctions - which in turn unnerved Harry, Ron and Neville so much that
they had each produced a perfect example of the latest potion out of sheer
terror.
Snape, along with the rest of the senior staff at Hogwarts, could be seen
at night stalking the corridors, wands in hand, and scanning the darkened
school for any signs of trouble. Even though the teachers had searched until
they were exhausted, no explaination had been found for the mysterious illnesses
of the five unlucky students.
Madam Pomfrey was growing increasingly agitated with the failure of every
cure she tried. She seemed to take the children's continued unconsciousness
as a personal blow, especially since they had been transferred to St Mungo's
- although she repeatedly stated that she didn't care where they were, as
long as they were healed. And every day, everyone in Hogwarts became more
and more agitated, waiting for the mysterious malaise to strike again.
~*~
The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet when Harry returned from Quidditch
practice.
Hermione saw Harry enter the room, and tried to surreptitiously wipe the
tears from her face before he reached her - but unfortunately nothing could
disguise her blotchy, red cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
Dropping his bag and rushing across the room, Harry sat on the couch nearest
to hers.
"Hermione? What....who is it?" The alarm in his voice was plain to
hear.
"Oh Harry..." Her voice wobbled, but she managed to look him in the
eye - at which point she burst into fresh tears. "Ron, he went off to the
common room by himself while I went to the library..." She didn't manage
to finish before Harry jumped up and ran to the Hospital Wing.
When he returned, much later in the evening, Hermione was still sitting staring
into the fireplace. He touched her shoulder and spoke quietly.
"I'll get the invisibility cloak. We can look for whatever it is ourselves
- and when we find it..."
She nodded.
~*~
They concentrated their search in the corridors around the common room, after
a hushed discussion of Ron's likely whereabouts just before the disappearance.
After two hours of fruitless searching, and one very near miss with Mrs Norris,
Harry stopped suddenly, causing Hermione to stumble straight into him.
"We're going about this the wrong way - everyone who has been taken has
been by themselves, and it's always one of the students. Whatever is doing this
isn't going to show itself until it thinks one of us will be easy prey - and
right now it can't even see us. You stay here under the cloak, and I'll wander
along in front of you."
"Harry no, it's too dangerous - what if I can't help you when it attacks?
What if the teachers find us? What if both of us end up being attacked? What
if-"
"I don't care!" Harry said in a fierce whisper, "It's the only
thing I can think of to help Ron." He darted out from under the cloak and
strode away determinedly down the hallway.
With no other choice, Hermione hurried to catch up with him - but she hadn't
even come within arms length of Harry when they both heard a hideous noise
that stopped them in their tracks. It resembled music, but only in the same
way that Harry felt Draco Malfoy resembled a caring, considerate human being.
Yet they both found themselves drawn towards the source of the sound - the
cloak slipping from Hermione's shoulders as she jerked and fought against
the insidious force. They turned down a corridor that hadn't been there a
moment before, slowly and unwillingly moving towards a small, violently purple
door set into the stone wall.
~*~
Once they passed the threshold, and the door slammed behind them, Hermione
saw a vision before her...however it was a vision that made her eyes widen,
and her mouth fall open in shock.
It looked...well, it looked like Hermione herself. But the studious, bushy
haired girl had never imagined looking like this, not even in her worst nightmares.
The thing in front of Hermione was dressed almost entirely in black, and
sported outlandish facial jewellery from nearly every available orifice.
It's multicoloured hair was set in short, sharp spikes, and it's arms trembled
with the weight of hundreds of rubber and metal bracelets.
It returned Hermione's look of open astonishment with a cool glare.
"Who are you, then?" it sneered, its full, black lips drawing back
from its teeth.
"I...I'm Hermione Granger," she stated, obviously still in shock. "What
- er I mean who - are you?"
At this, the vision looked confused.
"No, I'm Hermione, you silly bint. Who are you, and how do you know my name?"
Hermione's eyes widened, and her mind raced. Was it possible that some dark
magic was responsible for this? She wouldn't put it past a few of the more
studious Slytherins to concoct an exotic curse to catch an unwary Gryffindor.
Actually...her doppelganger was wearing a Slytherin badge. In the hopes of
gaining more information into precisely what was going on, Hermione gathered
herself and replied.
"I'm terribly sorry - I must have become confused. My name is...Sarah. Sarah
Ferdinand."
The imposter began to smile unnervingly, and Hermione began to shiver uncontrollably.
"I can read minds you know...you can't fool me. You must have been sent
by Voldemort, to kill me and take my place, yes, yes. Voldemort couldn't stand
having someone as powerful as me around - I ruined everything for him! He keeps
sending people, nasty, sneaking shadow people after me - but I won't let him
WIN!"
The vision's voice rose to a shriek, and Hermione swore - after she heard
Harry hit the ground behind her, but just before her own vision swam and
went dark - that the girl in front of her swelled and shimmered, her eyes
a thousand colours, and her hair twisting like a nest of irridescent snakes.
~*~
Outside, Snape paused in his rounds of the school corridors as his foot caught
in the slippery material on the floor. He bent and retrieved the invisibility
cloak, his lip curling in derision and a slight hint of pleasure.
"Potter...out of bed and wandering about at night again? Tsk tsk..."
He glanced around, obviously hoping to catch Harry in flagrant disobedience
of the school rules - his imagination seemed to have taken a more malicious
bent that usual in the creation of new and interesting detentions. The collection
of filthy cauldrons he had only recently begun to accumulate had housed only
the most experimental and volatile potions the teacher could get away with
brewing on school grounds.
He searched in vain as the minutes ticked past, his mood growing increasingly
unpleasant.
"Potter - where are you? Come out here now!" Severus snarled, his patience
lost. He obviously couldn't see the boy anywhere, yet knew that Potter wouldn't
stray far from his beloved cloak.
Behind him, a purple door faded into existence, and then opened.
"Sevviekins???" The voice that issued from the portal was sickly sweet,
yet Snape froze as if cursed to the spot - and the expression on his face seemed
to indicate that he could only be happier if all the Dementors in Azkaban would
suddenly appear around him.
"No...not again..."
But despite his strangled protestations, and with visibly trembling hands,
Snape turned against his will to face the speaker.
~*~
Dread thrilled through Snape as he caught sight of the creature - Severus
knew that he should have voiced his concerns to Dumbledore...but he had convinced
himself that the creature in question could not possibly be loose again -
if only for the sake of his own sanity.
He still had Potter's cloak draped over his arm, and he hoped to every magician
who had ever lived that it hid the movements of his right hand as he grasped
his wand. But as he caught its eyes, he knew immediately that this resistance
was futile.
She...it...grinned.
"Hello, Severus," she purred. "You remember me, don't you Sevviekins?"
She tilted her head to the side, eyeing him with obvious and, to his mind,
deadly interest. He shut his eyes tightly in the hope that it would break
her influence enough for him to just raise his wand...even though he could
feel conscious control slipping from him. Unbidden, hideously flowery grammatical
constructs rose in his mind, overwhelming him and causing him to almost vomit
explosively as his inner self struggled againt the overwrought prose.
Swallowing his fears, and his breakfast, Severus threw everything he had
into his arm and into the shouted spell...
'Expelliarmus!'
The results were spectacular.
Every piece of metal in the girl's body exploded outwards away from her,
showering the room in blood, hair and wet, soft tissue. Snape hadn't raised
his arms in time to protect himself, and was unfortunately pelted about the
face and body with sharp pieces of body jewellery - one even striking his
nose with sufficient force to break the skin and make him yelp in a decidedly
undignified manner.
When the tinkling of metal stopped, he opened one eye gingerly to survey
the carnage. He was certain that shouldn't have actually killed her - he
had found himself unable to summon sufficient strength for a killing curse,
and so had desperately hoped only to distract it. However when he carefully
prodded the remains with one foot, he realised that the creature seemed to
have also pierced all her internal organs - the violent exit of the jewellery
had literally torn her apart.
Sighing, he turned to leave and inform Dumbledore, only to spot Potter and
Granger in the far corner. Smirking, he noticed they were both also covered
in blood, hair, metal and bits of rubber jewellery - and after muttering
a swift spell to clean his own robes, took what could only be termed a vicious
delight in levitating the two students through the corridors to the Headmaster's
office.
The gasps and giggles that broke out behind him as he took the two through
the school, tarred and feathered in blood, multicoloured hair and rubber,
would be sounds that he would gladly cherish for years and years to come.
Now, where did he put that camera...?
fin
back to main
