Huh?
A/N: Inspired by a little sketch on MadTV (I know, why do I watch it?) about a new mystery TV show…I modified it somewhat to fit the Potterverse. This WILL be a multi-chapter fic (a first for me!) and so the first chapter is just an introduction. I will do my best to update at least once a week, depending on my schedule…So keep on checking back! Each new chapter will answer one of the many mysteries…Set during PoA…slightly AU, Sirius is still in Azkaban and Hermione knows about house-elves.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own the sketch this is loosely based on.
Hermione groaned loudly as she began to wake up. The sun streamed merrily through her open window, although admittedly it was muted somewhat due to the thick green smoke that blanketed the room. She sat up in bed, pushing her covers off. As she set her bare feet on the cold stone floor, she realized with a jolt that today was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. A grin spread across her face as she stood, stretched, and began her morning routine.
After a quick shower, she towelled herself dry and walked over to her bedside table. Pulling open the top drawer, she began rifling around through the assortment of undergarments, pushing aside a slimy pink tongue as she did so.
Wait, a slimy pink tongue?
Hermione did a double take as she held the squirming tongue in her hand. How did that get there? she wondered incredulously. Ah, well, this is Hogwarts after all, I shouldn't be too surprised. Having decided the tongue was nothing to worry about, she tossed it casually out the window. She thought she heard a faint scream as the tongue fell, but chose to ignore it and continue dressing.
An hour later, Hermione stood in line with Ron, waiting eagerly to be checked by Filch and allowed into Hogsmeade. Harry was absent, as his permission form had not been signed. Poor guy, Hermione thought sadly to herself. She'd have signed Harry's form for him, but Dumbledore would have seen through that in a second.
She did not dwell on this for long. Knowing Harry, he'd find some way to get into the village.
"Hey, hey, hey!" called an over-exuberant voice from behind her. She turned to see a tall man whose messy blonde hair was poking out through the green smoke that covered the Hogwarts grounds. He wore a pair of overlarge glasses and was waving sheets of parchment excitedly in the air.
Hermione was about to ask the man who he was and what on earth he thought he was doing, when Filch cleared his throat loudly behind her, indicating that it was her turn to present her permission form.
Hermione dismissed the man with the glasses, turning to Filch.
Harry watched as the last of the students passed by Filch and into Hogsmeade. Hidden cleverly under his invisibility cloak, he plotted his sneaky way into the village.
Once Filch had left the gates, Harry meandered down the path towards Hogsmeade, intending to hop the gate. He stopped just in front of it, however, to pick up a lone sheet of parchment that he nearly missed seeing due to the green smoke. He read it quickly, hoping for something of interest, but was disappointed to find that the parchment contained only a series of numbers.
2-1-5-1-5.
Harry's brain went into overdrive. Was this some sort of code? A combination to a lock somewhere? He hastily shoved the parchment into his pocket, resolving to ask Hermione later, and awkwardly climbed over the gate.
Ron was nearly in convulsions, he was so excited to finally be in Hogsmeade.
"Why don't we explore?!" he nearly shouted at Hermione in his excitement.
"Sure," she agreed amicably. "I've heard that Honeydukes is fantastic, as well as the Three Broomsticks. Fancy a Butterbeer?"
"NO!" Ron objected loudly. At Hermione's look of mild shock, he continued in a quieter tone, "Everyone will be going to Honeydukes or the Three Broomsticks first, they'll both be packed with people. Let's explore the rest of the town first, and then go for a Butterbeer, alright?"
"Alright," Hermione replied, seeing the logic in Ron's statement. "But we can't be out too long, you know we're meeting Harry for tea at Hagrid's at three o'clock." She glanced at her watch: eleven thirty. They had just over three hours. Plenty of time.
As she and Ron wandered through the streets, Hermione once again noticed the man with the large glasses standing outside a slightly run-down looking building bearing the sign, The Hog's Head. The man was once again waving parchment in the air as he talked excitedly to the small crowd that had gathered around him.
Hermione was just about to approach the man and inquire as to what he was doing, when a loud and slightly girlish squeal sounded behind her.
"Ooooooh, look Hermione!" Ron shrieked. "They have a playground!"
He dashed off towards the playground and sat down on a swing.
"Push me, Hermione!" he demanded like a small child.
Hermione rolled her eyes and went off through the green smoke to push Ron on his swing.
Harry made his way slowly through the village, being careful not to arouse suspicion. He moved slowly and deliberately, avoiding large groups of people and keeping an eye out for Ron or Hermione.
Somehow, he found himself standing in the smallest cemetery he had ever seen. He realized with a start that this was a wizarding cemetery, the first he had ever laid eyes on.
He thought it might be interesting to wander around, and see who was buried here. Perhaps some famous witch or wizard's bones were resting underneath him.
The thought made him shiver with anticipation. Maybe my parents are here, a small voice in the back of his head kept murmuring, but he pushed it away, saying aloud, "My parents lived in Godric's Hollow. Why would they be buried here?"
He began to wander aimlessly up and down the neat rows of headstones. Most of them were very old, the writing hard to make out through the thick green smoke, but there were some newer ones as well.
"Rita Katsotis," Harry read off the first headstone. "Born 1672, died 1699. I told you I was sick!"
Poor Rita Katsotis, Harry thought sadly to himself. He moved on to the next headstone.
"Rita Katsotis," he read aloud. "Born 1803, died 1885. Love many, trust few, always paddle your own canoe." He stood reverently in front of Rita's grave for a moment, and conjured a small pink rose to set on the earth before moving on to the next headstone.
"Rita Katsotis," he read. "Born 1867, died 1902. I thought it was a mushroom when I found it in the woods, forsaken. But since I sleep beneath this mound, I must have been mistaken."
A single tear leaked out of Harry's left eye. He brushed it away angrily before storming out of the cemetery, unable to take any more.
Hermione was beginning to feel very frustrated with Ron. This was the third playground they had come across, and he had insisted on stopping at each one to play.
How does he even see them through all this green smoke?? Hermione thought to herself irritably, waving her hand through said smoke, trying in vain to disperse it.
Ron came stumbling over to Hermione, clutching at his knee. His jeans had torn and his bare knee was bleeding rather profusely. Tears streamed silently down the redhead's face.
"Oh, come here, let me fix it," Hermione said impatiently, beckoning to Ron. She pulled out her wand and swiftly mended both the knee and the pants, using a quick Vanishing charm to get rid of the blood.
Ron sniffed. "It still hurts," he said plaintively.
Hermione rolled her eyes. She bent down and pressed a quick kiss to Ron's knee.
"Better?" she demanded, somewhat harshly.
"Much, thanks 'Mione," Ron grinned at her, before skipping off merrily down the street.
"Ron, wait!" called Hermione. "I don't want to lose you in this green smo- oh, damn."
Ron was gone.
Ron skipped through the smoky streets of Hogsmeade, whistling a happy, if off-key, tune. A figure appeared suddenly in the midst of all the green smoke, and he halted suddenly, a scream forming on his lips.
He had drawn sufficient breath to let out his scream when a cold, wrinkly hand clapped over his mouth, effectively stifling him.
"Go see the house-elf," muttered the old lady cryptically, her hand still clamped firmly over Ron's mouth. "The house-elf knows."
She lowered her hand.
"The house-elf knows what?" Ron asked breathlessly.
But the old lady had disappeared.
Hermione ran through Hogsmeade, searching blindly through the green smoke for Ron or Harry, if he was here. She bumped into something, causing her to fall over. A hand reached out to help her…a hand which ended just above the wrist.
"Harry?" she whispered, hoping it was her friend hiding under his invisibility cloak.
Harry lifted the cloak above his head to reveal himself and Ron, both sporting identical grins.
"Hey 'Mione," he said cheerily. "Any idea what Ron here is on about? He keeps saying something about an old woman and a house-elf. Is it some pureblood joke I don't know about?"
Hermione shrugged. "I've no idea. Why is he under the cloak with you?"
"Well, it'd look a bit odd, him talking to himself, wouldn't it?" Harry replied logically. "Now that you're here, though, he doesn't need to be under the cloak anymore."
"OK," Ron agreed, extricating himself from the cloak's folds.
"Fancy a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, you two?" Hermione asked, looking at her watch. "We've got just enough time before we need to be at Hagrid's for tea."
"Right, Hagrid, tea," Harry said, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I completely forgot."
The three made their way to the Three Broomsticks, which looked much nicer than the Hog's Head. Ron and Hermione picked a lonesome looking table in the corner, and Harry huddled underneath the table.
A pair of feet clad in turquoise high heels clacked towards the table and stopped. Harry couldn't help but admire Madam Rosmerta's shapely legs as she took Ron and Hermione's order.
The feet turned and walked away, and Harry felt a sudden urge to toss his cookies. On the backs of Madam Rosmerta's legs were shiny red scales that looked as though they belonged on a dragon rather than a woman.
A few minutes passed, which Ron and Hermione spent with pleasant conversation, while Harry tried his best to forget what he had seen. Too soon, the feet returned, and Harry shut his eyes tight, willing her away.
A frosty mug of Butterbeer was discreetly passed down to him, and all thoughts of legs and scales left him.
Half an hour later, the three friends were making their way slowly towards Hagrid's hut, full of Butterbeer and unwilling to move faster than they had to.
As they neared the hut, they could make out through the thick green smoke a pair of Ravenclaws snogging madly in the grass.
Ugh, do they have to do that in public? Hermione thought to herself.
A few metres closer to Hagrid's hut, they spotted an older Gryffindor and a much younger Hufflepuff in a somewhat compromising position. All three averted their eyes…although Ron may have looked back once or twice.
Reaching the hut, Harry raised a fist and knocked three times on the door. Hagrid pulled it open almost at once, and the three entered.
A pot of tea and a plate of Hagrid's infamous rock cakes lay on the wooden table. Harry, Ron and Hermione settled themselves in Hagrid's oversized chairs and each accepted a cup of tea. Harry declined a rock cake, citing a slight stomachache, while Ron and Hermione each took one, albeit rather reluctantly.
The hour passed pleasantly, and all too soon it was time for the trio to head back to the castle. Hagrid pressed additional rock cakes on them as they left, which Ron and Hermione promptly bit into, smiling to the best of their ability as they thanked Hagrid.
As the door closed behind them and Ron and Hermione each swallowed their bite of rock cake, something seemed to shift in the air. Harry walked down the path, past the Gryffindor and the Hufflepuff, who were still going at it, and stopped near the Ravenclaws, as he realized that Ron and Hermione were no longer following him.
He glanced back only to see that they were sitting on Hagrid's steps and had joined in the fun, snogging each other as though there were to be no tomorrow.
"Is now really the time?" Harry said exasperatedly before heading back towards the pair. He pulled them apart and said violently, "It is time to go back to the castle. You can finish this later." He walked away, holding Ron and Hermione's arms, one on each side of him, trying desperately to ignore the waves and giggles and sneaky looks they were giving each other.
Dinner was a rather awkward affair, as Harry had to sit in between Ron and Hermione to stop them going at it like rabbits. Towards the end of the meal, it seemed that whatever had happened at Hagrid's hut was wearing off, and Ron and Hermione were returning to their normal selves. Ron launched into a discussion of the old lady he claimed to have seen that afternoon in Hogwarts.
"And she said to find the house-elf, because the house-elf knows!" he concluded, hitting the table with a breadstick.
"So let's go down to the kitchens," Harry suggested. "Plenty of house-elves there."
Hermione humphed lightly behind him, but got up and followed the two boys.
In the corridor where the kitchens were situated, Harry reached out and tickled the pear. It giggled and winked at him before the painting swung forward and allowed them entrance to the kitchens.
"Hello?" called Ron uncertainly, as they inched their way slowly around the large grey submarine that filled most of the room.
"I don't see any house-elves," Hermione said. "Let's come back tomorrow; it's getting late and I don't want to be caught out after hours."
The trio walked down a corridor, discussing what Ron's old lady could possibly have meant about the house-elf, when voices coming from around a corner stopped them in their tracks.
"What is it, Albus?" the hushed voice of Minerva McGonagall said.
"It is a glooche hole, Minerva," answered the very serious voice of Professor Dumbledore.
"No," breathed McGonagall. "Can you- can you touch it?"
"I will not touch it, and that is final, Minerva," Dumbledore said firmly. The two professors came walking around the corner to find the three startled third-years.
"You three had best get back to your dormitories, you've only ten minutes before curfew," said McGonagall.
"Yes, Professor," the trio mumbled in unison, before rushing past the two professors.
Meanwhile, that very same evening, far away in a cell in Azkaban, Sirius Black was pacing anxiously.
This was very hard to do, as the cell was flooded with a foot and a half of dark red water.
A hand reached through the bars of his cell and shoved a newspaper at him. Sirius took the newspaper and began reading the front page hungrily. Something caught his eye, and he raised his head, screaming one name to the ceiling.
"DEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAN!"
Harry woke with a start. What a strange dream, he thought to himself. Who is Sirius Black? And why do I feel I should know him?
He voiced his concerns to Ron and Hermione, who were sitting with him at a small table in the Gryffindor common room.
"A lot of strange things have been happening today," said Hermione. "Why don't we make a list, and then we can try to figure out what's going on here?"
The other two agreed, and Harry procured a quill and the piece of parchment he had found earlier that day. The three discussed the events of the day, and soon a list of the trio's questions had been written in Harry's slightly messy script.
Who's the guy with the glasses?
And what are those scales on the back of Madam Rosmerta's legs?
What's with the red water in Sirius' prison cell?
How come the town of Hogsmeade has no children and three playgrounds?
What's with all the green smoke?
Is the old lady real?
How come all the headstones in the cemetery say Rita Katsotis?
Who is Dean?
What does 2-1-5-1-5 mean?
How did the submarine get in the kitchens?
Whose tongue did Hermione find in her panty drawer?
What does the house-elf know?
What's in Hagrid's rock cakes that makes everybody so horny? (Ron and Hermione blushed profusely at this one).
What's a glooche hole and why won't Dumbledore touch it?
A/N: So, that would be the end of chapter one. I'm quite proud of myself actually, finished this in one day. Nine pages on Word, that's gotta be a record for me. Hope you enjoyed it, next chapter should be up fairly soon.
R&R please! Let me know which question you'd like answered the most and I'll see about getting it answered in the next few chapters.