C'mon, O'Bannon. Get your ass out of bed.
Jimmy O'Bannon groaned as his bleary eyes scanned his suite. His three roommates were all soundly asleep. He wished he could be, too. But you didn't become a good hockey player by lounging in bed when you should be out running, building up your endurance and burning off unwanted calories.
But his covers were so warm, his bed so soft. This being the Christmas holiday, he didn't have to get up so early.
And while you're being lazy, someone else is out there training to be better than you.
Grunting, he pushed the covers off him and slid out of bed. After hitting the bathroom, he put on his sweatpants, a Boston Bruins sweatshirt and a Bruins ski cap. He headed down the hallway of the Sixth Year dormitory, eyeing the moving portraits that hung from the wall. Most of the wizards and witches in them still slept. He momentarily held his breath and perked up his ears. Quiet hung in the air throughout Gryffindor Tower. Usually around this time students would be shuffling to the bathrooms and preparing for their classes. But there would be no classes for another few weeks, so it appeared everyone took the opportunity to sleep in.
"That's too much, George," a voice filtered out of a room ahead of him.
"It is not, Fred. This is exactly the same amount I put in last time."
O'Bannon slowed his pace. His brow furrowed. Could Fred and George Weasley be up? Even on days they had classes they'd still be in bed at this time.
"I'm telling you, it's too much," Fred warned.
"No it's not."
He passed by the twins' room and looked inside. Both tall, lanky redheads sat cross-legged by a smoking cauldron.
"What the heck are you -"
A deep thump shook the air. O'Bannon closed his eyes and stumbled back. Something splattered over him. Something sticky that smelled like wet dog hair.
"Agh! What the hell?" He tried to wipe off the sticky substance with his hands.
"Oh. Mornin', Jimmy Boy," Fred said.
"Sorry about that," George apologized. "Maybe we should have put a sign in the hallway saying, 'pass by at your own peril.'"
"Ya think?" O'Bannon wiped at the goop clinging to his Bruins sweatshirt. "Man, be glad this isn't my Ray Bourque jersey, otherwise I'd kick both your asses."
"Um, Jimmy," Fred said.
"What?"
"I think you may want to look at a mirror."
Grumbling, he stepped into the twins' room and walked up to the mirror above Fred's dresser.
What . . . the . . . hell?
Warts covered his face. His hands tingled. He looked down and saw them covered with warts as well.
"Dude, what the eff!?"
Phffft!
O'Bannon's eyes widened. The sound repeated itself.
It sounds like . . .
There it was again. Phffft! Phffft!
He took a step back from the mirror, mouth agape.
The warts on his face and hands were farting!
"Well, I didn't expect that to happen," Fred stated.
George turned to him with a smug expression. "Aren't you glad now that I put too much in?"
O'Bannon clenched his teeth as more squeaky fart sounds came from his warts.
"Assholes." He stomped past Fred and George, who looked up at him and laughed heartily. The only consolation was no one was in the corridors to see, or hear, him as he made his way to the hospital wing.
XXXXX
For the second morning in a row O'Bannon fought a mental battle to force himself from his soft, warm bed.
Gotta keep in shape. Gotta beat Slytherin.
Groaning, he hauled himself out of bed, went to the bathroom and got dressed. The House Elves were still trying to get Fred and George's goop off his Bruins sweatshirt, so instead he grabbed one of his Boston Red Sox sweatshirts.
He strode down the hallway, ready for the morning jog he missed yesterday thanks to Fred and George. Lucky for them they'd become his best friends here at Hogwarts, otherwise . . .
"One more adjustment . . . there! Got it."
He froze when he heard Fred's voice coming from their room, which lay just a few feet away. Jeez, they were up early again to experiment with their latest gag gift?
O'Bannon pulled out his wand. "Protego!"
A transparent shield formed in front of them.
Grinning, he strutted past the twins' room and looked inside.
"Go ahead, guys. Do your worst. I'm ready for you." He rocked back and forth on his heels, the shield covering the entire doorway.
Fred and George looked at one another and shrugged. Picking up his wand, Fred tapped the small blue cube George held.
A piercing wail exploded from the room. O'Bannon dropped his wand and covered his ears.
Seconds later, it stopped.
He shook his head and looked at the twins. "For crying out loud. What the hell's that? Your 'Blow-Out-Your-Eardrums' Cube? Damn, that sounded worse than when
Harry opened his egg after the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
The humming faded from his ears. But he heard something else. A tingly, upbeat melody. He looked around for a Wizarding Wireless, but found none.
His face scrunched when he heard singing.
"One arm here, one arm there, now there's nothing to fear. Cause youuuuu got a huuuuuug.
"I hug you, now you hug me, it's super special huggy-hug daaaaaay!"
"What the hell is this crap?" He looked around, trying to figure out where this annoying song came from.
"One arm here, one arm there, now there's nothing to fear . . ."
"Dude, is there some reason you're playing this stupid song?"
The twins turned to one another. "Yes!" They high-fived each other. "It worked."
"What worked?"
Fred beamed at him. "Jimmy Boy, you have the honor of being the first victim . . . er, recipient of our Song Sticking Charm."
"Huh?"
"You know how some people get a song stuck in their head and it drives them mad?" asked George.
"Yeah?" That sometimes happened to him with that piece of crap Poison song "Unskinny Bop."
"Well," Fred took over. "Now we have a charm that does the same thing. Only you can hear it clear as if you had a Wizarding Wireless stuck to your ear."
O'Bannon's eyes widened. His head shook with rage.
"I hug you, now you hug me, it's super-special huggy-hug daaaaaay!"
"How long does it last?"
George's lips twisted. He stared up at the ceiling. "Um, I think when we tested it on ourselves, it was about six hours."
"Six!?" Fred blurted. "More like twelve hours." He then turned to O'Bannon. "I'm assuming you didn't cast an Ear Protection Charm on yourself before you came by, like we did."
He clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at the twins.
"I hug you, now you hug me, it's super-special huggy-hug daaaaaaay!"
"I hate you jackasses!"
O'Bannon stormed off, thumping his head with his fists. Maybe if he hit himself long enough he could fall into unconsciousness before the song drove him insane.
XXXXX
Today he would be prepared. After putting on his sweats and stepping out into the hall, O'Bannon cast an Ear Protection Charm on himself, followed by an Odor Guard Charm on his nose, then a shield spell. Head held high, he strode down the hallway.
Just like the previous two days, Fred and George sat cross-legged on the floor of their room as he passed by. He stood in the doorway, aiming a smug smile at them.
"Morning, you muttonheads. Feel like trying anything else? C'mon. I dare you. In fact, I double-dog dare you."
The twins looked at one another and shrugged. George picked something off the floor. It looked like a miniature disco ball. He tapped the side of it twice with his wand. Both Fred and George shut their eyes and turned away.
Why would they do –
A brilliant white flash consumed his vision. O'Bannon yelped and threw a hand in front of his eyes.
Seconds later he sensed the light fade. He opened his eyes.
Everything looked perfectly normal. He blinked a few times, expecting to see the world turn into a lava lamp or pink elephants parading in front of him.
Nothing.
He stared at the twins and grinned. "Ha! Looks like it's back to the drawing board for you dipsticks."
"Are you joking?" George responded. "This worked perfectly."
"What? A little ball that blinds people for a few seconds? You guys probably came up with stuff better than that when you were four."
"Now just hang on a minute, Jimmy Boy." Fred wagged a finger at him. "This little thing is a variation on the Daydream Charm. What it does is give you an image of what certain people may look like in undergarments."
"Say what?"
"Let's say you're walking outside when, lo and behold, you come across Mireet Miradeaux."
O'Bannon stiffened when George mentioned the gorgeous French witch from Beauxbatons, the one he was taking to the upcoming Yule Ball.
George continued. "While she's really wearing her school robes, the charm we just placed over your eyes will present her to you in nothing but her knickers."
O'Bannon's mouth fell open. Images of Mireet blazed in his mind. Her tall, athletic frame, her long blond hair that framed her smooth features.
Oh . . . my . . . God!
"Um, I'll see you later. Much later."
He bolted down the hallway, down the steps and out of Gryffindor Tower.
Mireet, in just her panties . . . knickers . . . whatever!
He took back every nasty thing he ever said about Fred and George. Those guys were friggin' geniuses! Say what you will about Dumbledore or Godric Gryffindor or even Merlin himself. Did they ever come up with a charm that really let's you picture women in their underwear?
I think not.
O'Bannon jogged across the grounds and along the lake until he reached the enormous carriage that housed the Beauxbatons contingent. He jogged in a racetrack pattern, keeping the carriage in sight. He had no idea how much time had passed before three girls emerged. Even from this distance, he could tell the middle one was definitely Mireet.
Yes!
He turned and started toward them. His face scrunched up when he saw the girls in their blue school robes.
Maybe you need to get closer before the Charm kicks in.
He continued jogging toward them. They were thirty feet away. Twenty feet. Ten feet.
"Good morning, Jimmy." Mireet smiled and waved to him.
He stopped as Mireet and the two other girls got within three feet of him. He could still see them all in their school robes.
What the hell?
"Um, uh, morning, Mireet."
The French witch canted her head. "Are you all right? You seem a bit . . . off."
"Huh? Um, oh! I, uh . . . didn't sleep well last night. Thought a jog might help."
"Oh. I am sorry to hear that. I'm sure the cold morning air will help invigorate you. I will see you at breakfast, yes?"
"Yeah, um, I'll be there."
He watched Mireet and the two other witches depart, still fully clothed.
"What the hell?" He slapped the sides of his legs. Had the charm already worn off?
Oh yeah. I have that damn stupid hug song playing in my head for half-a-day, but a charm that let's you see girls in their underwear? Oh no. Let's make sure that wears off before you even leave Gryffindor Tower.
Scowling, he marched across the school grounds. Friggin' Fred and George. He was going to give those two idiots a piece of his mind.
He stomped up the steps of the main entrance, muttering choice curses as he approached the Great Hall.
"Oh look. It's our favorite Mudblood from America. Thinking about how embarrassed you'll be when I beat you at your own Muggle game."
O'Bannon stopped. His face twisted in anger. He clenched his fists.
"Malfoy. I am soooo not in the mood for you. Why don't you just . . ."
He looked up and froze in horror.
Draco Malfoy stood before him, his tall lean frame adorned in only a bra and panties.
He gaped at him in silence.
"What the hell's your problem, O'Bannon?"
He blinked repeatedly, hoping the disturbing image would go away.
It didn't.
Then he noticed something even worse. Malfoy's ape-like lapdogs, Crabbe and Goyle, stood on either side of him.
Both of them wore only bra and panties!
O'Bannon shivered, taking in the undergarments stretched across their hulking frames, flab spilling over them. He tried to look away, but couldn't. The train wreck mentality took hold. The sight was so horrible he just had to look.
Please. Somebody come along and gouge my eyes out.
"Bloody Americans. You're all loons!"
Malfoy shook his head and strode into the Great Hall, followed by his half-naked minions.
O'Bannon's cheeks puffed out. He fought down the urge to vomit. Part of him wanted to scream. The image of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle wearing women's underwear would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life.
He peered into the Great Hall, scanning the Gryffindor Table. In the middle he spotted two tall redheaded boys.
Growling, he stomped inside . . . and winced at the sight before him.
Over at the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang and Padma Patil were fully clothed. But Michael Corner, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein all sat chatting in bras and panties.
O'Bannon winced and turned to the Gryffindor table. As she feared, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet all wore their robes. But Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter . . .
I'm gonna need a shrink after this.
"You!" He stomped up to Fred and George, who for some reason, appeared to him fully clothed.
"Jimmy Boy!" Fred grinned at him. "How was your morning run?"
"Yeah," George started chuckling. "Did you see anything interesting?"
He bared his teeth and leaned down, keeping his voice low yet menacing. "You dipsticks told me this charm would let me see girls in their underwear."
"No, that's not what we said," George stated. "We said it would provide you an image of what certain people would look like in knickers."
O'Bannon inhaled an angry breath. "'Certain people?' You mean, not . . ."
"That's right, Jimmy." Fred didn't even try to contain his laughter. "We fixed it so the person who gets charmed doesn't see women in their knickers, but rather, they see blokes in women's undergarments."
Both twins howled with laughter and banged on the table.
O'Bannon's entire body quaked with rage. "Then how come I can't see you guys in your underwear?!"
Silence fell over the Great Hall.
His chest seized. Slowly, O'Bannon looked over his shoulder.
Every pair of eyes in the Great Hall was aimed at him. Below many of those eyes were expressions of shock and bewilderment.
"Well, Jimmy," Fred began. "We worked the charm in such a way so we'd be the only blokes at school you can't see in our underwear."
"I mean, unless you really want to see us like that," said George. "Blimey, is there something you're not telling us, Jimmy?"
"I wonder if Mireet knows about your fascination with what lies beneath our robes," Fred quipped.
The twins howled.
O'Bannon swallowed and kept staring around the Great Hall. No one had taken their eyes off him.
He shut his eyes tight, wishing a meteor would hit the school and crush him and the jackass brothers.
XXXXX
They won't get me today.
The plan was risky, desperate even. It didn't matter to O'Bannon. Three days was enough. The Weasley twins would not get him a fourth day in a row.
Grinning, he opened one of the windows of his room. Standing on the sill, he mounted his broom and jumped out. He dropped a few feet before the pull of gravity disappeared and the broom flew on its own. He dove past Gryffindor Tower, slowing as he neared the ground.
"Yeah!" he shouted behind him. "What're ya gonna do now, Weasleys? Huh? No Jimmy O'Bannon to be you're guinea pig any more! Get some other poor schmuck to cover in goop! Or force him to see Crabbe in a bra and panties! I'll never forgive you for that, you bas-"
"Mister O'Bannon!"
He braked just a few feet from the grass. An old yet formidable-looking witch stood in front of him, eyes narrowed, hands on her hips.
Oh, you gotta be friggin' kidding me!
"What is the meaning of this?" Professor McGonagall demanded. "Screaming at the top of your lungs while most of the school is asleep? Jumping out your window on your broom? Do you realize how much trouble you are in? Do you have any sort of explanation for this behavior?"
O'Bannon worked his jaw back and forth. He did have an explanation, not that a strict witch like McGonagall would ever buy it.
Oh, what do I have to lose?
"Actually, Professor, I do have an explanation. Do you have any idea what it's like to live on the same floor with Fred and George Weasley? Or to walk by their room when they're experimenting with whatever insane new product they've come up with? Or when said insane new product backfires and you get nailed by it? Three days that's happened to me. Three days in a row! Do you really think I wanna make it four days in a row?"
McGonagall's stern eyes examined him. She then glanced up at Gryffindor Tower, then back at him.
"Mister O'Bannon."
"Yes, Professor?"
McGonagall briefly bit her lower lip. "The next time you leap out your room on a broom, have the good manners to close the window behind you."
- THE END –
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The hockey game Jimmy refers to is chronicled in my fanfic "The Puck Drops Here." For more adventures involving my OC Jimmy O'Bannon, please read "Fear Itself," "The Luna Effect," "Air Of Disharmony," "Dark Horizon" and "Midnight's Blood."