Harry Potter and the Passion of the Poltergeist
Since Tonks's idea of magic control training consisted of "Let's see how many things we can set on fire!" Harry came down to lunch tired and slightly singed. He sank into his seat with a groan, and began scooping copious amounts of cottage pie onto his plate.
"Where's Hermione?"
"Still in the library," Ron said through a mouthful of carrot.
"Apparently Madam Pince is on holiday at a nudist beach somewhere in Greece, so we had unsupervised access. She went a little crazy," Ginny said.
"At least we know we'll have an answer before the day is out," Harry said with a shrug. "Who's Peeves lusting after, anyway?"
"Myrtle," the rest of the table deadpanned.
"What? ARGH!" Harry yelled as pain shot across his scar.
It seems my return is not troubling Dumbledore and his pets. They're occupied with some trivial matter concerning a ghost.
"You'd be occupied too, if you were swimming in poltergeist jizz!" Harry shouted at Voldemort.
Potter! ...you can hear me?
"I feel like we have this conversation every few months."
Blast!
"Good luck with whatever nefarious plots you've got going. Hope you can get them done in Reykjavik." He snapped his fingers and smiled at Voldemort's scream of rage as the Dark Lord was transported to Iceland.
"Wow, Harry! You got rid of him—literally and in the mental sense," Ginny said. "Tonks must be one hell of a teacher."
"Me? Hell no. Harry had his powers down within five minutes. The rest of the time we were just playing silly buggers with Snape's Pillow Pet collection," Tonks said.
"Could you see what he was planning, Harry?" Ginny asked, concerned.
Harry shook his head. "And frankly, I'm not worried. He has a shin-kicking coming to him the next time I see him anyway."
At that moment, Hermione came marching into the Great Hall with a book the size of about eight encyclopedias floating behind her. "Found the answer!"
"Epic!" Ron yelped, swiping a third helping of potatoes. "Let's get on cleanup."
"It's not that simple," Hermione said, shaking her head. "It's Old Magic."
"I actually heard the capital letters when you said that," Harry said. "Right. Hand the book over—and I hope you used bookmarks."
"What this?" Hermione asked, pointing to the floating tome. "Oh no, I brought that with me for some extra reading into the magical history of Iceland. The Peeves situation is in here." She dropped a significantly smaller book onto the table.
"Poltergeist Solutions for Dummies?" Ginny read.
"Harry, I'll need the list of your titles."
"Er, sure," he said, pulling them out of his back pocket. "Why?"
"It's a ritual that can only be done by certain magical lines. Okay, let's see—Lord and Baron—"
But before she could continue, there was a loud wailing noise, and Myrtle (who was, in fact, laughing) floated into the hall followed by a singing Peeves.
Oh my dear Myrtle
I want a peek under your girdle.
My sad-faced one and only,
Please don't leave me lonely.
It would be my pleasure,
To seek your hidden treasure.
"Ew," Ginny groaned.
So before you slip back into your depression
Maybe we can indulge in some ghostly fornication.
"Merlin's shorts…."
"That doesn't even rhyme!"
I'd be yours forevermore
If you'd unsheathe my Sword of Gryffindor.
And perhaps I could Slytherin
To your Chamber of Secrets then.
And using my Ravenclaw-like wits,
I'll nuzzle into those—
"NO!" Tonks yelled, covering her ears as everyone turned white.
And I'll work hard like Hufflepuff
To—
"Jesus H. Christ, Hermione! Please tell me what I have to do to stop this!" Harry yelled over the singing, not at all interested with what rhymed with Hufflepuff.
"Well, you're a Peverell descendant, so that takes care of the Lord of the Old Magic requirement. We just need a Count of the Magic Circles, and a descendant of Merlin."
"Where are we going to find them?" Ron asked, grabbing a block of cherry ice cream.
"Merlin bit's easy," Tonks said. "Dude was like Genghis Khan, but with magic. Nearly anyone from a pureblood, or even mostly pureblood line is a descendant. Hell, I'd volunteer, but I don't know what this gig entails. Plus, if it's one of those 'virgin sacrifices' rituals, I'd be bloody useless."
"I already talked to Dumbledore," Hermione said with a shrug. "He said that Ron or Ginny would work, and that Neville will be here later. He's a Count Whosiwhatsit, apparently. And he told us to hurry up with it—he wants this dealt with before the Ministry gets wind of it. They'll think he's 'camping it up' again."
"What does that even mean?" Ron asked.
"He muttered something about the Prefects' bathroom having rainbow strobe lights and glitter in the seventies, but I couldn't get anything else out of him."
"So when Neville gets here, what do we have to do?"
"Well…." Hermione mumbled, opening the book. "It looks like we have to give Myrtle a solid form, so that the antidote can be administered to both of them at once. Fred and George said they're cooking some up now. They'll be here later."
"Wait, is this going to turn her into a poltergeist?" Ginny asked. "Because I think I speak for everyone when I say she's bad enough in ghost form."
"No…it just says it'll give her a solid form for the antidote to seep into."
"And…what goes into pulling that one off?"
"Are you sure about this, Hermione?"
"Positive. And may I say, you look scrumptious in a grass skirt."
"Just be glad Collin's not here," Neville said, applying his war paint.
"This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever done," Harry whined.
"Right, Lord Baron Whineypants," Hermione said. "Get over here. You're first to add your newt hearts."
They began to chant in Latin as Harry, Neville and Ron took turns tossing ingredients into the bathtub sized cauldron and doing whatever motions Hermione instructed. Meanwhile, Tonks and Ginny kept an eye on Peeves and Myrtle, who had been told that this was an ancient poltergeist-ghost bonding ceremony.
"And last, the rose petals," Hermione said. "Three steps left—LEFT, Ron—and wave your right hand in a circle."
"Now everybody twerk!" Tonks said with a laugh when they were done.
Neville did, in fact, pop his booty up and down a few times before blushing and realizing she was joking. "What? Gran put me in Muggle dance lessons when I was a kid."
There was a fizzling sound, and Myrtle became solid and Technicolor. Before anyone could do anything, however, she pounced on Peeves and they disappeared with a pop.
"Shit!"
"What do we do?"
"We've got to find them! Can you imagine what a kid between those two would look like?"
They raced out of the dungeon, splitting up when they hit the staircase.
"Forget this," Harry said, skidding to a stop. His grass skirt swished around him. "Accio, Map!"
The others stopped and scrambled back to him as he searched for Peeves and Myrtle.
"They're in the Great Hall! Oh…dear…."
"Are they fucking on Dumbledore's pimp throne?" Neville asked.
"Arrows at the ready? Let's do this!"
They began racing down the stairs. Harry stumbled as pain flashed across his scar.
Hiss hisssh hasssshisss
"Dude! GTFO! I know Parseltongue, but I'm kind of occupied at the moment. Speak English if you're going to screw with my mind!"
Hiss shissssshiissssss!
"English, motherfucker! Do you speak it?"
Hiss hissss hsahdhssssssisssss!
"SAY HISS AGAIN! I DARE YOU!"
"Harry! Hurry!"
"Right, Mr. Thinks He's the Most Powerful Wizard Ever," Harry griped at Voldemort. "Maybe make yourself useful and get rid of the lovely addition to the castle that our poltergeist bestowed. Otherwise, stay out of my head!" He stumbled along and the group burst into the Great Hall just in time to answer a whole lot of questions about the ghostly birds and supernatural bees.
"I can't even…" Ginny mumbled.
"Shoot them!" Harry yelled.
Ron, Neville, Ginny and Tonks all drew their bows and let the antidote-laced arrows fly. Ron's, surprisingly, hit Peeves square in the forehead. Tonks missed, and shrugged it off, lighting a cigar. Ginny managed to nail Myrtle in the leg, and Neville's shot straight through the pair to thunk into Dumbledore's chair.
"My bad," he said.
Slowly, Myrtle reverted back to her normal ghost self, and Peeves gained a look of utter revulsion.
"That was close," Hermione said.
"I bet she was," Tonks muttered with a chuckle.
"Tonks!" Everyone yelled, grimacing.
"Pretty sure ghosts can't have babies, but I'm glad we don't have to find out," an amused voice said behind them.
They turned to find Dumbledore grinning at them.
Harry glared. "As of right now, Lord Baron Continually Saving Your Ass is charging for his services."
Fin
LbN: Written for TellatrixForever and Weregrrl. Hope you liked it!
