Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter characters.
Half Alive/Half Dead
Chapter Two: One down one to go
Now don't get me wrong; Snape wasn't quite as easy as I thought, nothing ever is in Potter World.
There was fallout to be sure and heading it all was... you guessed it; everyone's favorite champion of second, third and fourth chances: Albus, (I'll screw you over for the greater good), Dumbledore.
So here I am bright and early next morning, (a school morning, mind),sitting in front of the lemon drop sucking old goat as he's giving me one of his patented 'disappointed looks'.
I haven't the heart to tell him they stopped working on me after Sirius died. You'd think he'd of figured that out on his own after I trashed his office.
"Can we get on with this? Otherwise, I'll be late for Charms which means I'll be sitting here again at lunch reporting the usual... "I've been bad." Not that I don't so enjoy our little chats, or should I say how you tell me your disappointed and that I should be the bigger man and let everyone else screw me over because they know what's best."
The old man steeple's his fingers and changes to his 'long suffering, withering glare'. He's really not pulling punches this morning. I guess I should've seen this coming; what with his pet being taken away by aurors last night and McGonagal reaming him up one side and down the other as they did so.
Funny how things work out? McGonagal bustles me off to the infirmary where Pomfrey dumps enough potions down my throat to cause a coma, yet I'm accused of the condition Snape was supposedly in when the aurors hauled him away?
Like out of the newly graduated class of aurors there's not the possibility that one or more might have a grudge or two against his Snapiness?
Personally, I think McGonagal had a go at him before they even picked him up. That temper on her is a thing of beauty.
Anyway, Snape had a broken jaw and nose, various lacerations, contusions, and interestingly enough: ruptured testicles.
Now I'd like to claim credit, I really would, especially for that last bit, alas... missed opportunities.
I can't take it anymore, he's breaking me... "What already?" I seethe at the lemon drooling idiot.
"I require you to drop all charges against Professor Snape and formally apologize in front of the entire school for the humility of his subsequent arrest. Furthermore, for his mistreatment I think a round two hundred points and a month of detention with Mr. Filch is in order."
Wow, he said all that with a straight face,... and I thought I was a good actor.
I suspected and now I know: Lemon drops cause dementia.
Sighing, I fix him with a spot on imitation of his own 'disappointed look'.
I know it's perfect cause I practiced it in the mirror.
I casually reach for a quill and a bit of parchment and right down a figure off the top of my head and purposely slid it forward for his consideration.
He rolls his eyes and scoffs indignantly at the number I've written down. "Surely you don't think you're going to extort a million galleons from this school to purchase Professor Snape's freedom on these ridiculous charges that you and I both know you framed him for?"
I pull a surprised look of my own at that. "You misunderstand." I correct with cool disdain. "I expect you to kiss my arse a million times before I even consider what it is I'll except in return for your trying to harass me into dropping valid charges against a contemptible swine who misused his position of authority to bugger and torture a student in his charge.
Dumbledore's benign facial expression turns to one of cold fury as he proceeds to threaten me. "How dare you? I'll have every charge thrown out before they even go to trail and then I'll have you serving each and every one of the aforementioned detentions with Professor Snape. I myself will personally lock you in the dungeon with him, so he may take his pleasure, and cast the silencing charms to boot!"
I think I've struck a nerve?
"I assume you're relying not only on your position of authority as headmaster in this instance, but also that of Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot?" I ask with feigned trepidation and worried eyes.
Dumbles glowers at me. "You assume correctly." he sneers in contempt, his eyes twinkling victoriously.
It's a shame it had to end this way. Is one fleeting consideration.
Another, more pertinent one is... WOO-HOO! This is gonna be fun.
Clearing my throat meaningfully I offer... "I choose option B."
Now,.. it was either something in my voice, or perhaps my casual attitude, but Dumbles obviously smells a rat and has the good manners to at least look curious rather than dismissing me out of hand.
I draw the memory of this interesting office visit from my temple and place it in a waiting crystal vial that I've extracted from my robes. Like a flash Dumbledore's wand is in his hand ,.but it's already too late. It was already too late the moment he made his boasts and threats, but I'll come back to that.
Did I mention that my already heightened reflexes are even more so since the change?
Dumbledore casts a beaut of a vanisher at the vial, or should I say where it was a split second ago.
In the old man's defense, I have to admit I barely got my empty hand out of the way in time as I threw the vial out his office window.
Anyway...
"Why on earth did you destroy you're only evidence of this meeting?" The old man asks completely stumped by my actions, surmising.. " It couldn't possibly survive the impact with the courtyard below?"
I smirk knowingly. "Did you hear the vial shatter, cause I didn't?"
The old man bursts to the open window with a speed I'd not thought he was capable of; little good it did him.
"Hedwig is a loyal and true friend, unlike many the wizarding world offers. She is currently on her way to deliver said memory to a waiting Madam Bones."
Dumbledore yells out to "Fawkes...!"
My smile broadens. "Don't bother; he and I have had an understanding. He gave me the benefit of the doubt and was listening in outside the window with Hedwig. Once you made your threats , I'm sure he decided you were not the servant of the light you pretend yourself to be. I suspect he is currently seeking other more suitable employment?"
Dumbledore goggles at me, before he eyes his private floo in a last desperate attempt to intercept Hedwig at the Ministry before she can deliver her damning evidence.
"Won't matter." I caution. "I already forewarned Madam Bones yesterday that I'd be forwarding more evidence of a sensitive nature this morning. I instructed her to view the memory Hedwig delivers should I fail to contact her within the hour."
At this, I pull the micro tape recording device I've hidden within my robes.
He eyes the object curiously. "What's that?" his curiosity outweighs the dire circumstances.
"Insurance" I proceed to tell him what a tape recorder is and does and how I spent my spare time working out how to get around the magical interference of Hogwarts on electronic devices.
He fingers his wand.
I smile in cold victory.
"You might possibly be faster than me, but I wouldn't count on it. Either way, you've lost as I've less than a minute to warn off Madam Bones." I remind him that the clock's ticking on both his reputation and freedom for that matter.
Dumbledore slumps wearily in defeat. "What do you want, Harry?" he asks dejectedly.
First things first.
I sashay over to his floo and motion questioningly if I might use it?
He waves me off, like he actually has a choice.
I place my call to Madam Bones and pass the tape through before Dumbles can even shriek his dismay. I then politely ask her to standby another five minutes and return to finish matters with my new ally, or should I say, whipping boy?
"You've become far too predictable, Headmaster. It's for this very reason that I intend to be lenient. Snape is gone, history,.. get used to it. He was never your man and never would be. Rather than spend his life in Azkaban's fine establishment, he will pay a million galleon fine that will serve as an endowment fund to further the independent education of aspiring Potion Masters whom Snape ruined their pursuit of thru his negligent teachings, and to provide scholarships for those that he has yet to disillusion. The fine itself should ruin him, forcing him to rely on others. His teaching credentials are forfeit. He may never again step foot in Hogwarts or any other institution of learning. Those two requirements fulfilled and I'll drop all charges. He will be free to return to his true master as only Voldemort would stoop so low as to have him. He proved that by accepting Pettigrew."
"Y-You could have him in Azkaban for life. Why so generous?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.
I smile a cold calculating smile that I can see has it's desired affect on the old man. "Because I fully intend to meet him on the field of battle, one day, where I fully intend to make sure he gets exactly what he deserves."
Dumbledore shudders at that. "A-And me... what is the price of my cooperation?"
"You are exactly where you need to be and in the capacity you were meant to serve, however...?" at this the old man begins to tremble in trepidation.
I almost feel sorry for him,... almost. "You will use your position within the Wizengamot to call for a vote of 'no confidence' against our beloved minister and in his place recommend Madam Bones, leaving Fudge free to return to his true master and eventually meet with Snape's own impending fate."
"Fudge a Death Eater? Preposterous!" Dumbledore scoffs in disbelief.
"Surely even you're not gullible enough to believe he's actually that stupidly naïve? The man reeks of corruption and I don't mean the usual political kind. He turns Death Eaters loose for a price that then subsequently disappears from the ministry coffers and never even shows up in his private accounts. Where does it go,.. I wonder?" I suggest facetiously. " His policy of deniability has done more to foster Voldemort's cause that any three of the previous bunglers did combined. He's closest supporters are known inner circle members. Wake up you fool!" I bellow in the old man's face as he still looks astounded by his own blind gullibility.
"If he's not a Death Eater than he's their biggest sympathizer and supporter! Either way, the point is moot. You'll do as I've asked or you will suffer the consequences of your own abuse of power by trying to extort ,harass and coerce me."
"So I'm to be your puppet then?" he snarls angrily, all the while I can see his eyes and know the wheels are turning as he's desperate to find a way out of the iron cell I've locked him in.
"Puppet, no." I reassure him. "But just so we're clear? We aren't friends you and I. Not buddies, nor even comrades in arms. You and your precious 'Order of the Chicken' can go pack sand! All you've managed to do is get them killed when they aren't serving as my jailors. You and your dupes managed to ruin my life long ago and have the gall to think I'll actually allow you to continue to do it?" I thunder at him and am rewarded with him wincing in dismay.
I collect myself. "Your interference in my life is done, not that there's anything more you can do to me? My friends disappeared like leaves in the wind once I was bitten. If they were ever truly my friends and not some well placed sycophants by yourself?"
He begins to bluster and try to reassure, but I cut him off. "Ironic, isn't it? Myself and Voldemort? Both half bloods pitted against each other over an issue of pure blood supremacy. He's not even human anymore. Yet he's treated like a god amongst wizards, both light and dark. I'm still fully human, but now am treated like a second class citizen, lower than the lowest werewolf. My family is dead. My friends abandoned me, teachers ignore me and yet I'm expected to fight in everyone's behalf?"
"B-But, Harry,... It's for the greater..." Dumbledore struggles to intervene, but I cut him off.
"For the greater good? Yes,.. I know." I sigh disappointedly as I conjecture further. "But whose good, certainly not mine? Merlin knows, and yes, I said Merlin!" I restate at seeing his wince of displeasure.
"I can say as I wish, regardless of what's considered appropriate amongst wand wavers for someone of my low standing. The next idiot, or idiots, that try to make an issue of it with me are going to be the subject of Madam Pomfrey's next medical journal mystery."
I pause to gather my thoughts. "Where was I,.. ah yes... Honestly, I don't see a reason to fight Voldemort or his death goons? What reason have I?"
"To have a life of your own, free of Voldemort and his murderers. You could have your pick of careers? A family of your own!" Dumbledore immediately started waving his banner in my face.
I laugh hollowly at that. "What a bastard you are. We both know I was to be your sacrificial goat. A career, a family? Don't make me laugh. No one's going to hire me. They're all afraid I'm going to turn into a bat and drink their blood or some such revolting notion." I wave off disgustedly.
As for a family; The Weasley's disproved that notion,... rather intensely so." I rub my jaw pointedly. I can see by his look of displeasure that he's acutely aware of what the Weasley boys did to me and why.
"I can see you're aware of the Weasley boys' intervention. Did you suggest it?" I accuse him.
Dumble's snorts disdainfully at that as he scoffs an affronted, "Certainly not!"
"You condoned it then." I nod knowingly an am at least vindicated in that he doesn't argue the point, though he does at least have the common courtesy to look ashamed.
"In that; you and Hermione have something in common. Whilst she may not have approved, still she ultimately sided with Ron over me. The mind knows only what the heart tells it."
Dumbledore nods dejectedly at the wisdom of my statement.
At length, I clap my hands together expectantly and announce. "Well, I'm done here. Do as I ask, maintain a professional decorum and you and I will get along famously." I suggest, adding.. "Just so you know... I intend to be 'bad'. Nothing to drastic, just a bit off unfinished business between me and mister 'I'm gonna tell my dad on you, Malfoy'."
"Harry...?" Dumbles begins warningly.
I feign delighted surprise. "Oh, are we on a first name basis?"
Dumbles slumps, recognizing the sarcasm I lace my voice with.
"Stay out of it. For once Draco's going to have something to complain to daddy about the whinny little bed wetter. Hey,... now that's an idea?" I snap my fingers delightedly and dance out of the office before the old 'spoil sport' can complain anymore.
My first class is a wash, so I use what time remains to get a leg up on a little extracurricular activity and adjourn to the library to check a few minor healing spells.
Viola! Just the thing.
I happen across a charm that simulates a warm moist compress to alleviate joint pain.
The rest of the day goes by tediously slow other than a few acknowledged compliments in my having dealt with Snape. No one really has any inkling of the particulars other than I was involved and Snape was arrested.
Curfew and lights out at last.
I disillusion myself and take a walk down to the Slytherin House. I could use dad's cloak but this way's faster and less cumbersome. Besides, Filch's cat likes me now. It's either the catnip or the mesmerizing,.. maybe even both?
Did I mention that I can mesmerize others to obey my will? No,.. well, I can't, at least not yet. People are still a little difficult, but I've managed to successfully plant a suggestion or two. Animals though? Animals are quite easy to control, which explains Voldemort's hold on the Death Eaters.
Anyway, a little suggestion or two that I'm irresistible and a bit of cat nip to seal the deal and Mrs. Norris is eating out of my hand-literally.
Slytherin House is well hidden behind the portrait of Slytherin himself- very stealthy that. Now I don't have a password, but given I'm a "parselmouth", it's an automatic free pass for all things Slytherin.
I make my way through the sleeping dorms to the sixth year boys, Merlin, you can almost smell the teenage hormones in the air.
Once located, I make my way to the ponce's bedside. It wasn't hard to figure which was his; it was the one with the candle for a nightlight glowing on the bedside table.
Cautiously I pull back his bed curtains and.. Oh, God.. I'm gonna be sick! My eyes- they Burn!
Draco and Pansy Parkinson are locked in what could only be described as a scene from 'Old MacDonald's Farm'- the uncut version.
I stuff my hand in my mouth to stifle my gags while walking back and forth to shake off the he-be-gee-bees.
I'm still seeing spots before my eyes, but at least the urge to vomit has passed. I cast the charm I learned for the occasion over Draco's exposed hands. It should simulate warm water to its desired effect. I was about to leave when an inspired bit of deviousness hits and I decide to take things a step farther.
I know, big surprise, right?
I use my limited mesmerizing skills to plant an image in Draco's mind. Congratulations Draco, your now subconsciously obsessed with Hermione Granger. A few added touches and a nice, er,.. romantic dream begins.
My work is done for the night, so I decide I've earned myself a snack and head for the kitchens.
I eagerly await the spectacle at breakfast the next morning, so I make sure I'm early so I can get a good seat. Gryffindors be damned, I'll sit where I like. I hope Ron cocks off about it 'cause I'm in just that kind of mood today.
People are filing in all bleary eyed and famished. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long as Pansy stomps in all in a huff with Draco hot on her heels pleading and apologizing.
I can tell by the snickers around the Slytherin table that I was successful to a degree, the question is; how successful?
My answer comes by proxy when Hermione enters the Great Hall with Ron in tow like the good lap dog he is.
Pansy's just beginning to give in to Draco's pleas when he's suddenly distracted. His eyes shift toward Hermione and follow her every move.
Hermione stops in front of my view, deciding uncertainly if he should assume the seat in front of me and I'm forced to peer around her hip whilst she deliberates.
"Aren't you in the wrong spot?" Ron sneers, summoning what passes for Gryffindor courage for a wealepig. I get Pettigrew more and more.
"Shut up, Ron." I shoot back, not bothering to favor him with a glance. "I'm working here and you're spoiling the view."
Between his outrage that I'm not immediately cowed by his challenging presence and his curiosity, he manages to turn in the direction of my gaze to catch Draco leering at his girlfriend's backside.
"Oiy!" he cries out in outrage, not that he need bother as Pansy elbows Draco a good one in the eye, sending the ponce spinning to the floor.
Ron bursts into laughter, as does the most of the rest of the Hall, including the Slytherin table.
Pansy snorts haughtily and kicks out at Draco's fallen form for good measure. Now, I can't tell from my vantage point, but I'm guessing by the way he shrieks that she's managed to hit something sensitive.
Piteous groans follow which concludes this morning's entertainment. Ah.. it was a good show, but all too brief. I give it three stars out of a possible four.
I return to the last vestiges of my meal, pleased to see that Hermione has temporarily overcome her trepidation, not that I'm entertaining any notions of reconciliation.
Ron finishes his caterwauling and turns to begin his ten minute mass consumption campaign. He's about to slide in next to Hermione when he notices my presence and his lips curl distastefully.
"Listen Potter..." he begins in a huff, intending to lay down the law.
Now, since the change, my reflexes are very sensitive and sometimes they go off at a moment's notice. Anyway,.. my leg spasms and sends the git's chair rocketing into his er,.. sensitive areas with all my vampiric enhanced strength behind it.
"Urkkk, achhh Gaaa!" Ron stumbles about, bent at the waist with his hands buried between his legs.
I don't know what he's about as I've seen him shower and it'll take more than two hands to locate that lost treasure.
Say kids: What do Ron's table manners and his sexual prowess have in common?
Anyone..? Anyone at all?
Beep!
Time's up. The answer is: Both are non-existent.
"The Headmaster's office, Mr. Potter." McGonagal demands from behind.
"What again?" I continue to complain. "But I was just there last evening."
"At once, ." she points me toward the door, stamping her foot impatiently.
So here I am.. gargoyle, spiral staircase, knock, enter... "I've been bad."
Dumbledore peers over the rims of his glasses with his patented disappointed look.
Aw, no,.. not the grandfather approach? I cringe instictively.
"Harry, Harry... whatever am I to do with you?" he asks in his fond, but long suffering way.
I snap my fingers and offer in revelation. "How about a Sexual Self Awareness Club. We could call it H.A.R.R.Y. after its founder and president. It'll stand for..'Hogwarts Awareness of Relationship Responsibilities and You'."
Dumbledore's eyebrow's have disappeared into his hairline which is no mean feat as his hairline is well receded.
"Leave, Mr. Potter" he demands drolly, all pretence of congeniality gone.
"So,.. you'll get back to me on when we can start the club?" I ask, rising from my seat.
"Out, Mr. Potter" he demands impatiently.
"No lemon drop for the road?" I ask hopefully at the doorway, which I just manage to get thru before the entire candy dish hits it and shatters.
He may be old, but his aim is dead on.
Undaunted I pursue my dream and use my library time that evening to draw up flyers advertising H.A.R.R.Y. with endorsements for this week's guest speakers.
Draco Malfoy will discuss the 'Do- Nots' of relationships- Learn the warning signs from the experience of a noted expert in interpersonal failure.
Albus Dumbledore will present his renownedlecture series titled: When the dust settles.
The headmaster quotes: "I will discuss the joys of sex after the age of a hundred plus. Learn what I did wrong the first Hundred years!"
I spend my night in disillusioned bliss hanging flyers with permanent sticking charms as I consider next week's material. Maybe I could get McGonagal to do something on post menopause? We could call it: Witches who still will.
I'll have to pick her brain on a side lecture regarding being partnered with an animagus during intimacy? It must be something tasteful though. I insist on professionalism and propriety at all times.
I wonder if I could get Hermione to bore everyone with a purely clinical take on the mechanics.
The possibilities... the endless possibilities.
Next morning I'm enjoying a nice bowl of soggy sugar flakes amidst gales of laughter mixed with shrieks of outrage from other quadrants.
Ah good,.. everyone appears to notice the flyers. Now If I can just nail Dumbles down on a starting date?
Hmmm, Draco's late this morning...I wonder why? It couldn't have been the timed laxative charms I placed on his underwear drawer? Those aren't due to kick in until this afternoon during quidditch practice.
I snap my fingers. It must be the diuretics I laced his cocoa with last night.
Between the diuretics and the wetting charms while he sleeps; Draco hasn't had a dry moment in two days, and people are noticing!
"Mis-ter...Pot-ter..." an exasperated voice drawls from behind.
I turn to see the object of McGonagal's distress, in the form of my flyers, waving beneath my nose. "Really professor... it's nothing personal. I was hoping you could do the witches slant on thing next week. I figure with your vast experience..."
She gasps at that before stuttering and stammering as she manages only to point me toward the exit in her mortification.
Trudging along the well worn path... Gargoyle...spiral stair...knock... enter... "I've been bad."
Dumbldore has several of my flyers scattered across the desk when I arrive, his head tilted to forward as he worries at his temples with his fingertips.
At my admonishment, he peers up wearily, shaking a flyer in my direction and demanding.. "What is the meaning of this, Mr. Potter?"
I shrug nonplused. "You never said "no" so I took the initiative. I've been getting a lot of positive feedback and was thinking we could hold meetings Saturday nights in the Great Hall for 3rd thru 7th years, although, some of the staff could do with a bit of advanced study, as well." I suggest pointedly.
I ignore his shocked look and pull a chair over to his desk in anticipation as I chance to outline my plans. "Here's what I was thinking for the first of several lecture topics after you and Draco start us out..."
"Out-Potter-Out!" The old man shouts pointing a trembling, enraged finger toward his office door.
"Is this because I gave Draco top billing?"I ask, surprised by his negative attitude.
The man goggles at me completely dumbfounded and I'm almost ready to cheer in success of finally breaking the old manipulator. My hopes are dashed the next instant when he regains his composure.
"You will not, I repeat not be starting some asinine sex education curriculum."
"Oh, but the kids would love it." I counter, interrupting him before he can build up a head of steam. "Shame that Snape's gone as he could be our role model for "Stranger Danger". Maybe I can work out something with his probation,.. it might save a lot of young boys from ending up a milk cartons?"
I did it...I think I really did it!
Dumbles has turned ashen and is grabbing his chest. I've given him a heart attack!
I'm just about to stroll down ,...er I mean run for Madam Pomfrey when the old bugger gags up a lemon drop that skips across his desk.
Damn,.. he was only choking.
It's a letdown, but I'm not disheartened as I'm undoubtedly on the right track and just haven't found the right shock to put his decrepit old system over the edge.
I'm nothing if not patient these days. Funny how all it took was a bite in the neck and social isolation to help me find my true self.
Once he's returned to his normal shade of pre-death, Dumbles lays down the law and kicks me out of his office.
I'm wondering what I'm doing wrong as he seems as eager to be rid of me as he was for me to join him in the first place. I've yet to draw a detention and Draco's still not panicked or paranoid enough for my liking.
Perhaps if I center my attention on Draco an opportunity to undermine, thwart and, or instigate a stroke for Dumbles, will present itself.
Draco's looking miserable these days. His normally slicked back hair and immaculate appearance looks notably disheveled. Most of the school's available witches laugh and giggle at him behind his back, courtesy of Pansy Parkinson's wrath. The wizards openly mock the bedwetting ponce, which usually sends him scurrying away in near tears. Even Crabbe and Goyle avoid being seen with him lest he tarnish their reputation.
Now that's saying something when a pair of trolls think you're beneath their contempt.
Snape's gone,.. so no one to cry to there. No bodyguards. The male population is avoiding him lest they get painted with the same brush by the female contingent.
He's humiliated, but he just hasn't suffered enough yet.
I'm momentarily distracted as Ron's shooting me that smug look again...some blokes never learn.
Hey,... maybe I can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak? I have an epiphany.
A brewing I will go. A brewing I will go. Hi-Ho the merry 'o, a brewing I will go.
After two days, in which I received many compliments from the staff about my attention to detail in class, it's ready. I've successfully brewed a rather potent version of amortentia- the love potion.
Hermione- you irresistible vixen you.
Draco's dose was easy to arrange, I simple put it in that god awful cologne he practically showers in. What is that anyway; Troll pheromones?
Ron's been too full of himself lately, thus the 'two birds with one stone'. I figure I'll slip him an even more potent dose to see how miss 'prim and proper' deals with two amorous misanthropes.
I wait for Saturday morning because things tend to be more lax as there's less available staff monitoring the students. Besides, it's a Hogsmeade weekend and I figure the townsfolk could use a little cheering up what with the Voldie induced pall on everything these days.
I arrive first thing for breakfast and I've even dressed for the occasion. Now Ron, being Ron is easy all I have to do is sprinkle his intended dose of amortentia over the largest, gooiest sweet roll on the tray and Weasleypig's sure to snap it up.
The clock's just going ten which means students will be lining up for Hogsmeade. Ron will, of course, have slept in which means that he and 'prissy pants' will be getting a late start of it.
The hall starts to empty, a little 'slight of hand' over the last, largest sweet roll and by the sound of the bickering down the hall; my pigeons have arrived.
Hermione eyes me warily but at least offers a half heart greeting. Ron, he just sneers and grabs up the largest sweet roll.
Too easy, but hey, when you know the subject of your pranks like I do, there should be a few corners to cut.
Ron stuffs the sweet roll in his gapping maw just as Draco Malfoy bolts into the dining hall on a direct intercept course for 'Mione 'o my dreams'.
Wild eyed and disheveled, Draco grabs up Hermione in a.. shall we say...overly amorous embrace.
Hermione barely gets out an "EEEP!" of utter shock as Draco's savaging her throat with kisses and pawing at her like she's the sweets counter at Honeydukes.
"Here now!" Ron bellows in outrage, ripping Draco away by a shoulder whilst Hermione stumbles away glassy eyed, trying to right her now dissheveled clothes.
"What're you...playing ...at?" Ron's initial outrage dies in his throat as his eyes glaze over. "D-Draco... you're hair... it's so...so lustrous. I must... have you." With that Ron grabs at Draco and a scuffle breaks out.
Ron's pulling and pawing at Draco, begging him to go to Hogsmeade with him, whilst Draco's trying to pull away, calling out to Hermione , professing his undying love and admiration.
Now,.. I didn't plan for this turn of events. Draco's love potion I charmed with Hermione as his intended target, whilst Ron's I merely left it open in which the potion would just normally enhance the victim's own natural attraction to the object of his or hers desires.
In Ron's case I just naturally assumed: Hermione. Though I do admit there was a 70-30 chance he'd fall for the sweet roll.
But this...? Even the marauders couldn't have, wouldn't have seen this one coming!
Draco breaks away from Ron's advances and bolts after Hermione who shrieks and makes a beeline for the exit. Ron dives over the Hufflepuff table and narrowly misses Draco, but at least manages to snag himself another sweet roll for his trouble.
A panicked Hermione shoots blindly over her shoulder at Draco, but all she manages to do is hit Dumbledore with an impedimenta, just as he's rising out of his chair, to put at stop to things.
Merlin bless her. Brilliant witch that she is, she knows every hex and jinx in the book, but she can't aim worth a shite!
The three battles their way out of the hall; wands firing, food flying, shouted threats mixed with promises of undying devotion if not out and out suggestions of wanton lust.
The place looks like they filmed a Three Stooge's marathon.
By the shrieks and shouts of alarm in the hall outside, I can tell things have progressed to a new level. I stroll to the Hall doors and peruse the spectacle.
Dean Thomas has a bloody nose and is being helped up by a very tattered Lavender Brown. Shamus Finnigan is holding his head, using the wall for support. These were obviously Hermione's 'would be' rescuers.
Argus Filch is lying in a heap on the castle steps; obviously he was trampled in the rush of students trying to avoid the melee.
I don my cloak for a sojourn into Hogsmeade as this shite is just too good to miss!
"Hem...Hem" someone clears there throat in a passable imitation of Umbitch, but I know it's not her as she's still in hiding from what I'm assuming are hallucinations ofoverly amorous centaurs lusting after her body.
I suspect they're hallucinations because centaurs show admirably more restraint than your average wizard and nobody,..I mean nobody, would sink that low.
I turn to find McGonagal waiting impatiently with her hands planted on her hips.
"What?" I ask with my most innocent expression. I know it's a winner cause, again, I've studiously practiced it in the mirror.
"You know very well, what, Mr. Potter."
I shrug helplessly, casting an eye toward my rapidly escaping chance for a pleasant afternoon's distraction.
"Come now, Mr. Potter? Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy all acting out of character at the same instant and I'm to believe the common denominator in this equation is not yours truly?" She snapped incredulously, tapping her foot.
I goggle in outrage at her accusations." I thought Hermione's reaction to Mr. Malfoy's overtures quite within reason. As for Draco,.. I've always thought he protested too much where Hermione's concerned and Ron; if it isn't food, its sex. Now while I admit that I'm as surprised as you that he swings that way, even so,.. I would think he could do better than Draco. Why not Pansy Parkinson for instance? He could stay in the closet for years with her on the hoof. I mean, while she's a witch she still looks and acts like a guy. An ugly one either way, but still...?" I reason out sincerely.
Strange,... I've never noticed that facial tic before? McGonagal's eyes keep going out of focus and there's this pronounced 'tic like' twitch at the side of her mouth that seems to be occurring more rapidly with increasing severity.
"O-O-Office.. Mr. Potter!" She finally manages to thunder pointing toward the stairway.
"Which one?" I ask politely for clarification.
"The headmaster's at once!" She growls pointing and twitching like a disco dancer.
"This is so unfair." I complain as I shuffle away. "I'm being persecuted. You wait til Malfoy's dad hears how you've been harassing me." I threaten. "He's a school governor, you know, even if he is in Azkaban. He'll probably hear me out just out of courtesy for not killing him at the Ministry last year."
"Now, Potter!" McGonagal shrieks.
Merlin, can she wail!
So here I am standing in front of the damned Gargoyle statue again. I swear the damn thing's mocking me with that smug expression.
"They think I've been bad, but I defy them to prove it." I challenge. With a sarcastic shrug of its shoulders the sentinel turns out of the way so I can proceed.
"You just wait until I'm running this joint. You'll be a fountain in the courtyard with a bunch of little duckies peeing in the water you spray out of your oversized beak and pigeons pooping on your head." The damn thing actually manages to roll its granite eyes at that.
I walk up, knock and enter as I figure Dumbledore's either just arrived or in route depending on whether McGonagal reversed Hermione's hex on him before or after she took a bite out of my arse, spoiling my well earned fun.
While I'm waiting I note the lemon drops the old bugger's always trying to force on everyone.
Hmm, I wonder?
I pass my hand over the bowl and do a quick diagnostic charm. Why that old bastard; he's got a low grade compulsion charm on the drops.
On a mission, I run a quick diagnostic over the larger container he keeps ready to hand.
Hmm,... his lemon drops have some sort of aphrodisiac in them. I wonder how many the old perv's managed to bugger over the years with this set up, not to mention the manipulations he's gotten away with,.. probably gets all randy from those too.
Easily remedied; I cast a powerful laxative charm that I like to call-Mega Boom on the visitor's supply, mixed with a generous amount of that self same compulsory charm with a bit more oomph to it!
I simple pour his aphrodisiac laced lemon drops into the visitor's bowl and pocket the extra... one never knows?
It's a solid twenty minutes later before Dumbledore sweeps in with a stuttering and stammering McGonagal in tow.
Here we go! It's round three in tonight's title bout!
Dumbledore seats himself and conjures one for McGonagal with a quick flick of his wand. I note it's not quite as comfortable appearing as the one he currently has his bony arse planted in.
So much for chivalry.
He sighs, looks about to start, before absently recalling the proprieties. "Lemon drop, ?" he waves toward the dish on his desk with a hopeful expression.
"Don't mind if I do, sir." And gratefully pop a large one into my mouth and murmur my appreciation of its unique flavor.
Dumbledore looks like the cat that got the cream as I've never accepted one of his proffered sweets before, but now they really seem to have a solidified my resolve.
Obviously delighted, he pops one from his dish into his own mouth and proffers one to Minerva, who interestingly enough accepts.
Now ,..I've gotta wonder if she's up on this protocol?
"We are late, Mr. Potter, because Mister's Weasley and Malfoy were apprehended only moments ago and the aurors have taken them in for questioning. Ms. Granger is likewise detained as she has suffered a rather, er,.. disturbing ordeal and is currently under Madam Pomfrey's care and heavily sedated.
"Some people just don't know when to stop teasing. You can only push young, virile men like Draco so far." I empathize. "I mean,.. he is only human after all. Ron, on the other hand, frankly, I'm appalled by his boarish behavior." I display my obvious disgust by Ron's antics.
Dumbledore's moustache visibly droops at that, whilst his eyebrows disappear. McGonagal's tic is back and quite pronounced, that and the flatus she suddenly grace's us with. Her expression is oddly pinched.
Lord above... That's rancid! I think I overdid the laxative and then some.
Dumbledore's expression sours worse than any ten lemon drops could account for. He gags as he casts several air freshening charms. It's the fastest wand work I've ever seen.
Once the air is breathable again and McGonagal has hurriedly taken her leave. Dumbledore leans over his desk , eyes twinkling madly as he tries to read my surface thoughts. "Mr. Potter, am I to believe that you have nothing to do with the current state of , er, affairs between Mister's Weasley and Malfoy? There is strong evidence that a love potion was used on the two young men in question, though that has yet to be determined."
I wonder if the compulsion charms are affecting the old geezer yet?
I pull a shocked expression. "I've absolutely nothing to do with it, sir. I'm as outraged as you are. I was trying to catch up with them to offer assistance when Professor McGonagal waylaid me with her unfounded presumptions. I'm wholly innocent and frankly, rather insulted by the accusations."
Not to mention my shorts are uncomfortably smug just now.
Dumbledore nods his agreement. "I apologize, Mr. Potter. I should have known you would never have placed Ms. Granger in jeopardy like this. Besides,.. your academic record in Potions clearly shows that a complicated potion such as amortentia is well beyond your capability, no insult intended."
Yep,.. it's the compulsion, that and Snape's unjust grading system have exonerated me.
Seeing the opportunity to press my advantage, I graciously accept his apology and ask, (in a caring and respectful tone), after the welfare of the parties involved.
Dumbledore's compassionate and grandfatherly air is enough to make me gag. "By the time the aurors apprehended the parties causing said disturbance, they were sequestered in the Shrieking Shack and rather, er,.. well,.. let's just say, not acting themselves. I'm afraid that Ms. Granger was rather, um,.. ill used,.. as was Mr. Malfoy. Mr Weasley, was neither harmed nor displaying any remorse over his part in this whole sordid business. I myself, arrived quite innocently after the fact, yet received a rather stern telling off by Mrs. Malfoy, who is currently insisting that Draco be transferred to another school where muggleborns,.. er, not her exact description," Dumbledore pulled a face at that as he continued to relay Narcissa Malfoy's complaint. " where muggleborns,.. are not permitted entrance let alone to consort with pureblood wizards from good upstanding families."
I snort at that. "Which does she claim pertains to Draco?"
"Quite" Dumbledore replies in obvious agreement with my opinion. "Anyway, I'm afraid that given current circumstances, either from legal ramification and or Mrs Malfoy's insistence, we have seen the last of Mr. Malfoy within these walls." he ventures disappointedly, but with an obvious air of relief.
It's all I can do not to launch into my happy dance, but my current , er... southern situation, as a result of the aphrodisiac lemon drop, makes that unwise in present company. You can only hope to compulse someone so much before throwing caution to the wind!
"And, Ron? What's to become of him?" I ask with polite concern that's worthy of a dramatic acting award.
Dumbledore winces at that. "Molly, er,.. Mrs. Weasley arrived shortly after Ronald was apprehended. She, er,.. made quite a number of unfounded accusations at, er,.. your expense, which I'm aggrieved to say I took entirely to heart. I, again, apologize for jumping to conclusions, Harry."
I manage to look wounded but find it within myself to forgive the Headmaster, he is only human after all, and I should respect my elders, even if they tend to gravitate toward the senile side.
We commiserate current events and find the beginning of a tentative foundation to reestablish trust between us.
The old man, er, I mean 'elder wizard',(see- being polite), seems wholly pleased and I know I am, if not maybe for the same reason. It could be the aphrodisiac, but I'll give it the benefit of the doubt.
Eventually I make my excuses to leave, commenting that I wish to look in on Hermione to see if there's anything I can do for her.
Dumbledore's quite pleased with that and hey, I'm nothing if not compassionate.
I walk the halls to the infirmary lost in thought.
That's it for Draco and good riddance.
However, Molly Weasley has entered my radar and that's currently not a favorable place to be.
I can't imagine what she has to complain about, not after the beating her precious boys threw me with her obvious knowledge if not behest.
I have bigger fish to fry and Dark Lords to kill, but really, can I not spare a few minutes to see to an old friend?
Besides, I find Molly Weasley's pronounced 'double standard' infuriating.
At length, I decide it's another worry for another time, and besides-besides, there is some credence to Molly Weasley's complaints.
Besides- Besides... is that right? Must be, it's my own thoughts, isn't it? Er,.. I hope so.
Enough of that, my heads starting to hurt. Besides,.. er, besides... I have Hermione to console.
