Normalcy is Overrated
AU Written pre-HBP. With Lord Voldemort busy with...other things, is it possible for Harry to have a normal 6th year? ...Probably not. RHr HG
A/N: Ok, I didn't really write this before HBP per se, but I had the idea before the book came out. It's insane, random, and possibly quite humorous. Reviews, comments, flames, and psychiatric evaluations all are welcome!
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! Even my brain is controlled by the aliens.
Chapter 1: Another Year
"School prepares you for the real world, which also sucks." –Happy Bunny
"Another year, another attempt on my life..." Harry mumbled dejectedly during the Welcome Feast. Ron patted his shoulder sympathetically.
"Cheer up, mate, maybe this year you'll get lucky. You-Know-Who could be busy doing...umm..." He trailed off, clearly at a loss. "Other things," he finished rather lamely.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Shh, Dumbledore's speaking!" Hermione hissed furiously.
Dumbledore had indeed risen from his seat, and looked ready to make his usual speech.
"To our first-years, welcome! To everyone else, welcome back! Blah, blah, blah—that should do for a good speech, don't you think?" He looked around the room, eyes twinkling. The first-years looked totally bewildered; everyone else was used to his eccentricity.
"As per usual, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher—well, two, actually! Please welcome...Professor E!"
A man dressed in worn denim jeans, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket stood up from the staff table. Despite his casual clothing, he looked rather forbidding. A pair of dark, reflective sunglasses completely obscured his eyes; underneath those, his cheeks were hollow, and his mouth was a thin line. He was very lean, wiry and of average height.
"And...Professor—" Dumbledore began, but the professor's name went unheard as almost a thousand children began talking immediately about the mysterious Professor E. They shut up instantly when the other professor stood up.
What he looked like remained a mystery to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, because they were seated at the very back of the Hall. Even Ron, the tallest, couldn't see when he stood up and craned his neck over the rest of the standing students.
All they could hear was, "...Well, I think that's it! Prefects, lead your Houses back to their dormitories..." from Dumbledore, and then all the children started flooding towards the doors at the end of the Hall. By the time the stampede slowed down, the new professors were nowhere to be seen.
"Well, that was anticlimactic," Hermione said.
"Hermione, what did we agree about big words?" Ron asked exasperatedly.
Ignoring this, Hermione grabbed Ron's arm, and gasped, "Ron! We have to help the first-years!"
Ron pulled his arm out of her vise-like grip, and said, "You go! I'm sick of the little munchkins, anyway."
Hermione gave him a reproachful look and stalked off.
Harry had a bad feeling that Ron was going to walk with him and try to make him feel better, and said, "Maybe you should go, Ron..."
"No! It's bad enough—"
But Harry never found out what was bad enough, because at that moment Ron got pelted with a crumpled up piece of paper.
"Ow! Bloody little—there, I told you, Harry, they're little brats, the lot of them," Ron said furiously, looking over his shoulder at the first-years.
"I don't think a first-year threw this at you," Harry said, bending over and picking up the paper off the floor. "It's a note."
"Give me that," Ron snapped, and they read it.
Ronald Weasley,
It would be a good idea to go with your friend Hermione and do your prefect duties, because in exactly 12 seconds Professor Snape will come walking down the hallway and yell at the first person he sees. Tell your friend Harry to hide in the second broom closet off the first-floor east corridor. He may find something useful.
From A Friend
Ron and Harry both gaped at the note. Harry was the first to react.
"Well, do we?"
"Do we what?" Ron asked.
"Do we go with Hermione and hide in a broom closet, respectively?"
"I don't—look out, here he comes!" Ron pointed down the corridor at a malevolent black-robed figure stalking around the corner.
Harry dashed down the first-floor east corridor and threw himself inside a broom closet. From inside, he could hear Snape.
"Fawcett, what are you doing dawdling around? Ninety points from Ravenclaw!" Snape's footsteps slowly receded. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
He gently eased open the door, and glanced up and down the corridor. Seeing no one, he made a move to go out, but noticed a scrap of parchment on the floor of the closet.
He grabbed it and hurried to catch up with Ron and Hermione, ignoring the first-years who averted their eyes, made arcane signs of warding, or screamed and sprayed the air with Lysol® as he passed.
"Oh, hey, Harry. Tell Hermione I'm not crazy, will you?" Ron said jovially when Harry caught up with them.
"Ron's not crazy," Harry said hurriedly. "Look—"
He showed them the scrap of parchment he found.
1-666-867-5309
This number will come in handy. Trust me.
"It's the same handwriting," Harry said.
"There's a postscript," Hermione said.
P.S.--Told you so.
A/N: Will they find out who this mysterious stalker is that seems to know all about them? Will we ever see the mysterious professor whose name we do not know? Is Professor E a stupid name? All will be answered...eventually...if I get enough reviews!
PS—The phone number is not real. I made it up. Don't try calling it.