The World Cup Prank – the Pain of Planning
A/N: This is the obligatory change of writer note. It took time to get hold of a willing guinea pig among Harmonious' friends. Most people don't have a dead sense of humour as Cannons did, and now does in all senses of the word. Somehow, it's not funny.
Anyway, I have volunteered. This is 'The AU No-Bashing Writer Alive' and I will be also continuing 'The Wish of the Master of Death', and 'The-Kop-Who-Scoused' shall continue 'Prophetic Intervention'. 'The Godfather' is up for adoption. The form and direction of the story has obviously changed.
Warning for future chapters: references to very ribald behaviour, underage drinking and copulation. And impromptu renditions of Bee Gees songs; let's not forget that.
Herein, there is a part where the Death Eaters are likened to the Ku Klux Klan, indirectly. The objective is not to offend anyone – except any bigots still adhering to those beliefs.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
A better, more apt alarm there couldn't be for a Marauder or an apprentice of even one of them. Then again, there could be. Sirius had enchanted an alarm clock for Harry to use. It would jump on his forehead yelling that statement five times. And of course there was no snooze button. The first morning, Harry had felt the full effects of the water conjuration rune Sirius had engraved. He had woken up plastered against the wall as the bloody thing shot a jet of water as thick as his hand.
He hadn't needed the reminder ever again, obviously.
Dressing up in fifteen minutes, the young wannabe Marauder gathered his prank supplies, carefully going over his plan to get those two reprobates he called family/uncles/teachers. This was his fifth attempt, as it were, to get them both simultaneously.
The first day when Harry had arrived at the Black Place in Hexworthy, he had been greeted with a faceful of stinksap. Once he had spat enough of it and vomited what he had ingested, he yelled, "What the bloody hell was that for?"
Sirius looked at him in disappointment. In a manner that would have made Gilderoy Lockhart envious, the ex-prisoner put an arm around his godson's shoulders, steering him deeper into the house, while saying, "Harry, Harry, Harry! You disappointed me, dear godson. That was a Marauder's Hello!"
"A What's What?"
"A Marauder's Hello," Sirius repeated. "One does not simply walk into a situation where a prank can be pulled and not pull one or expect one not to be pulled."
Harry blinked and looked at Sirius blankly for a moment as he tried to decipher the grammar and then the meaning of the sentence. Finally, he responded with an underwhelming, "Oh." Years later, he would remember the first teachings of his godfather when he encountered a meme on the internet, but that's a different matter of course.
Sirius frowned a bit. "That's your assignment, kid. You will attempt to prank Remus and me every day. Put your mind to it. It can be anything – non-magical, potions, runes, charms and transfigurations...anything!"
"I can do the non-magical," Harry replied slowly. "But with Snape supposedly 'teaching' Potions, me having not opted for Runes, and being pants at Transfigurations, I am pretty sure that I can't get you," he admitted morosely. "I can get you with Charms though."
Sirius looked at Harry in despair and then with an extremely, comically horror-struck expression on his face wailed, "Moony!" Of course, since he had just been given orders to prank them, Harry did cast a light, but long pinching hex at Sirius' forearm. That caused the man to moo in a deep voice while calling for Moony.
Remus ambled into the room from just behind the door. "Well, we'll just have to teach the Prongslet more, won't we?"
And so they had. Sirius had taken up potions and transfigurations, while Remus helped with Runes and Charms. Stories of James' ideas were liberally interspersed with the coursework. Harry had eventually got one over his godfather when he had slipped a mild Confundus Charm intertwined with a Compulsion Charm on a piece of paper that Remus had provided with a key phrase of some sort and a Babbling Potion in his butterbeer. Or so he had thought.
Remus wanted to know about a particular escapade of the Grim Animagus that had had in their fifth year. Sirius used to vanish for hours on end and return with a smug smile on his face. There were far too many (benign, compared to those pulled on the Slytherins) pranks pulled on the Hufflepuffs during that time, and Remus suspected Sirius.
It should be noted that he only suspected Sirius of pulling those pranks. There was no accusation or disappointment at the actual act of pulling the pranks, but rather regarding the thoughtless behaviour of pulling them alone and not letting the others join in the fun.
As it turned out, the key phrase was "Your fifth year exploits". It was horrible. It turned out that Sirius' 'wand' chose just about every witch that year – barring Lily, of course. Had that happened, both Remus and Harry, even in their scarred states, were sure that James would have risen from the grave to bind Sirius' magic and 'snap his wand'. Harry would probably have done it too, on general principle. As it was, they heard a bit too much. It was only Remus clinging to him and consoling him and trying to remind him of Hermione that staved off Harry from wanting to declare a life of celibacy.
They finally stunned the man and washed the images away with Firewhiskey – the heady liquor purged them out of their systems violently.
Squaring his shoulders, Harry took a deep breath as he went to manfully face the daunting challenge.
Sirius was asleep on the sofa – mostly – with the TV (a recent addition) blaring in front of him. Remus was awake and reading. It was time. Wrapping his thick handkerchief/napkin tightly around his mouth and nose, something that thoroughly muffled him as well, Harry drew a powder from a packet in his pocket, muttered an incantation and threw it into the air. The action drew his Uncle/teacher's attention.
"Hello Harry!" Remus started and then clapped a hand over his mouth. It was a little girl's voice that was emitted from his mouth. Realising he had been pranked, Remus smiled benignly. Harry had yet to learn that this meant Remus had a way to get back at him.
"Well done, cub! I assume that was Tarabt's Vocal Vandal Powder?"
Harry suddenly found that he couldn't move his neck. Nor could he give the thumbs-up sign – that was clever, but unnecessary, in his humble opinion. He picked up a piece of parchment and searched around for a quill and some ink.
Sirius woke up as Harry attempted to ransack the house in his quest. In a voice resembling the falsetto that would have made the Bee Gees proud, he warbled, "What are you doing, Pup?" He then squeaked (it might have been an indignant, manly squawk, originally) and asked, "What happened to my voice?"
Remus smiled. "The pup pranked us."
"Did he now?"
Remus gave a short nod.
"Well we must prank him back in celebration, shouldn't we?"
"I agree."
It was rather obvious that the two men were assiduously ignoring each other's funny voices. Sneaking up on the boy, they grabbed him and ripped his protective mask off. Harry glared at his godfather and uncle as he felt the powder take effect.
"You know, pup," sang Sirius, his own voice grating on his ears, "the problem with powder pranks is that it is easy to get back at the prankster."
"At the very least, you could have made it difficult for us to remove the mask, you know," Remus continued.
"As if I wouldn't take care of that," Harry replied with a grin and in a voice that was squeaky but still close to his normal voice.
"How did you not get affected badly?" This was good. It would be Harry's first successful prank, and a good one at that.
"It wasn't Tarabt's powder. I based my own off it. The deeper your voice is in real life, the higher pitched it becomes," responded Harry sagely, though his continued grin marred the effect. "My voice is breaking. It sounds odd naturally. It can't work too badly on me. I just end up sounding like a ten-year-old instead."
"This deserves a prize, don't you think, Padfoot?"
"Oh yes. What do you think about the top box for the Quidditch World Cup?" Sirius proposed.
"The Most Wanted Criminal sitting with the Minister..."
"...Under disguise which the Minister and his cronies cannot realise..."
"...And watch the Veela cheering for the Bulgarians..."
"Awesome!"
All of a sudden, Harry realised that the Weasley twins could stake a claim to being the true followers of the Marauders' sect. This one hurt his ego, a bit. He had to prove his worth.
"Say, Padfoot, Moony, don't you think there will be a few poncy idiots in Fudge's company?"
"What do you mean?"
"Fudge brought along Malfoy to arrest Hagrid. Do you think he would bring him along for the final?"
"Ah. He would, wouldn't he?"
"Such a wonderful prank opportunity shouldn't go waste, Harry. You are right."
If anyone had seen the starry-eyed wonder that the two men who did not grow up and their charge who they wanted to prevent from growing up had, they would have shuddered.
Ron was reading the letter his best mate had sent in response to the letter he had sent about getting the tickets. Arthur had included one for Harry as well.
Ron,
You told me about the Quidditch World Cup. I am looking forward to it. Find enclosed my ticket's cost.
I will not be staying with you lot, though we shall meet. I am coming with a dog and a wolf, if you know what I mean. Remember to bring lots of popcorn. Give the twins and Hermione a heads up, I forgot to put that in my letter to her.
Cheers mate.
Harry
Ron stared at the letter. Then he decided that he was due a double dose of entertainment anyway, and it wouldn't do to over-think matters. Plus, Harry had asked for popcorn while they were watching Quidditch. He could hardly say no, could he?
After a mid-morning meet and greet with the Weasleys, and a longer and certainly more intimate tête-à-tête with Hermione, Harry, after much ribbing from Sirius and Remus, got down to the planning of the Great Marauding World Cup Prank.
Finding out about the itinerary, essential to ensure a good spectacle for the common masses (they were aiming big), was a piece of cake – they were selling those, after all, as was normal. For the average wizard, a mere matter such as operational security was alien. So they found further information about seating arrangements and such regarding the high profile spectators as well. So they knew that the Weasleys would be in the lowest rung of the top box with Hermione. They themselves would be in that rung at the very end, with Harry being joined by Melvin Grumble (known to the immediate friends as Remus Lupin) and his cousin Sylvester Crumble. The marauders still hadn't decided who was who.
In the rung just behind them, would be Fudge, Malfoy, and the man who put Sirius in jail without trial, Bartemius Crouch. Of course, that meant he would be the recipient of a Marauders' Greeting. There were also the Bulgarian Minister and the entourages of both Ministers, but of course that was another matter.
The three made their way to their seats very early and were the first in the box. It had to be done to ensure that the seats were well rigged. Sirius took great pleasure in setting up a Pressure-based ejector seat for Crouch. Since he didn't know who was accompanying him, he decided to rig both to average human weight. It was very funnily obvious that Lucius and Cornelius would sit together. Harry cast the prank spells – the ones that would put the prank into action. Remus was tasked with the time-delay component.
Harry wondered at the whole set-up. Why was it necessary to go to such extremes for a prank of all things?
"It is a matter of timing and opportunity, Pup," Sirius had explained. "It is never just a prank. It is a means of controlling what people think about us. It is always good to be underestimated. Remember the marauders' true motto."
Harry looked at him askance, and Sirius and Remus recited it.
"A troublemaker creates trouble to keep any troubles caused to him by others manageable as others clean up the mess of the trouble created by the troublemaker and can't create really troublesome trouble for the troublemaker!"
The Veela and the Leprechauns put up quite a show in which Sylvester (Sirius) shamelessly ogled the former and shouted out "fake gold-shitters" to the latter. This action was loud enough to catch their attention, and the little beings arranged themselves to give him the air message, "FUCK OFF!" Hermione's presence meant that while Harry managed to laugh at the latter, he studiously kept a calm face (Marauders' "I am innocent" expression #36) to put up a show of being unaffected by the former.
"Are you trying to say that Harry Junior is not happy to see them, Harry?" Hermione asked slyly. She could be an absolute minx. "You can't hide that you know."
With the patented Marauders' Witch-Wooer Witty Wordsmith ploy, improved by the Harry's Humbleness Charm, Harry looked at her sheepishly. This one was more difficult to pull off than the Wronksi Feint. "Harry Junior is Happy, Hermione." He squeezed her hand and looked away blushing (blushing was an important opportunistic art – it spoke much when nothing was actually spoken). "But it is not them he is happy to see."
"Good answer," Hermione replied with a wide grin and proceeded to show him just how good that answer was with a kiss that had the twins collecting galleons from their parents, and Draco calling Hermione a few choice names except mudblood. He seemed to have a modicum of sense - it wouldn't do to have the Minister hear him do so in a public setting.
Unfortunately, the tender moment was broken by the Crouch Ejector Seat triggering with absolutely no person sitting on it. The over-exaggerated noise of the spring and that of an elf popping away startled the two.
Glaring at his godfather, Harry asked, "Overzealous much?"
Sirius just shrugged. "Magic's a bit off since Azkaban," he replied.
Down on the pitch, a person with a broken neck, cloaked in an invisibility cloak died a very happy death, (trampled) under the Veela. Nobody knew and nobody cared. Well, the elf probably did.
The game was about to start, when Harry leant over to Melvin and asked, "Wasn't the prank to be triggered by now?"
"It was, actually," Remus replied. He was honestly surprised that it hadn't. He answered the unasked question. "They can't charm people to be impervious to any such spells, you know. If they could, they would have found a way to stop people being imperiused. Did you put the trigger for the song that your radio will play?"
"Of course I did. I got Padfoot to tie it into your time delay. Sirius recorded it day before yesterday and has been gloating ever since. He seems to have forgotten that we gave the chorus."
The match ended with the Irish Chasers killing it off early. Krum decided that the team honour was not going to be satiated, so he would end the game on his terms.
It was a very disappointed group of Marauders that trudged back to the tents. The Quidditch was great, and the Irish had won, but the prank simply did not take off within the half hour delay they had put in. The plan had not even taken off, let alone survived any contact with the enemy.
"What the hell did you want the popcorn for?" Ron complained.
"We were going to pull a massive prank on Malfoy and Fudge. We must have made some mistake," Harry morosely replied.
"Do I want to know?" Hermione asked archly. She feared whatever they might have had in their minds. She respected her ex-Professor, but he was still a Marauder. Anyone who had the ability to inspire the Weasley Twins was a fearsome person in their own right, in her book.
"Never mind," Harry mumbled. "You have just eaten."
The matter was summarily dropped as Remus Lupin and his cousin and Harry moved their tent to some open space near the Weasleys'.
"Remus, Sylvester, Harry! Get up and move! It's the Death Eaters!"
The three groggily blinked at Arthur and the others, before finding their senses and grasping their wands (Harry had had the good sense of using the bloody side pocket holster that was available on every robe in the magical world and had a locking strap).
Sure enough, people in black robes and masks, so very obviously derived from muggle America, were rampaging and indulging in general debauchery after what was a drunken night of celebration. There was a moment of silence, followed by an outbreak of panic and shouting and everything else that the Death Eaters wanted the people to do out of fear. The lead Death Eater was blonde haired. Of course, it was Lucius Malfoy.
Sirius was ready to fire curses at his cousin by marriage, when all of a sudden a lone, pudgy figure ambled onto the scene. Simultaneously, the Death Eater removed his mask and the outer, well-ironed uniform (Voldemort was a stickler for those rules), muggle-derived uniform, and approached the pyjama-clad figure.
Just behind the three reprobates, the radio started blaring out.
"Moony, did you by any chance, make a mistake with the timing?"
"It seems so, cub. It was supposed to be 0.5 hours. I seem to have missed the '0.' part."
"That's one hell of a lucky mistake."
The other Death Eaters had also stopped in their tracks as they started watching this unexpected drama. Fudge walked as if in a trance towards Lucius, who was completely bewildered. He looked at the mask in his hand – a sure shot proof of his criminality – and wondered why he had removed it in the first place. (Ron recognised the signs – it was the typewriter Imperius.)
"What exactly did you do to him?" the redhead and the bushy-haired witch asked their friend.
"He accused us of being confounded back in June, didn't he? Well, I just reversed the game. He thinks Lucius Malfoy is a Veela."
"Oh God!" moaned Ron. He went greener than the shamrocks. Hermione was fairly revolted by the diabolically horrible image.
The prank actually was much more complex – having adult wizards (by physical age only) cast some of the spells certainly helped. Cornelius Fudge was going to serenade Lucius Malfoy to the garbled lyrics of a muggle song. Sure enough, once the intro music was done, Fudge started to sing along.
"I know your eyes in the bony mask
Your spells leave many in moaning pain
And when you want some favours from me
I wanna be in your pockets again
And you come to me with hefty fees
Keep me filled from your vault
Then you smiling leave
And to me you always show
How deep is your vault! (How deep)
How deep is your vault! (How deep)
O-oh lo-o-ove, how deep is your vault"
Arguably, neither were the lyrics of any quality (they were more accusatory than anything), nor were the vocals anything approaching the original. But the sight of Cornelius taking Lucius' hand and going down on bended knee was enough to have several of the audience, Death Eaters included, moaning in protest. A few people who could look away long enough stunned some of them, but that was it.
"See all the gold I earn
'Cause we are livin' in a world of fools
Fooling around
When they all should let us be
It all belongs to you and me
I believe in you
You know the goal of my very soul
You're the pillar of my gilded ivory tower
I'm always at your beck and call
And you know how much I care for you
I know deep down inside, you do too
As to me you always show
How deep is your love! (How deep)
Is our love, how deep is your love
More than the gold I earn
'Cause we are livin' in a world of fools
Fooling around
When they all should let us be
It all belongs to you and me"
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" another Death Eater, obviously female, hollered. She was crouched next to a smaller, shaking blonde-haired figure, curled up in a foetal position whom she had been cooing nonsense to and patting gently. The prone figure was that of Draco. Ripping her mask off, Narcissa stomped up to her husband.
Lucius had gone well past feeling shocked to lapsing into shock, and had become unresponsive. Fudge still had a worshipful, smitten look on his face and was still holding Lucius' hand which he had just kissed. To the Minister's addled mind, Malfoy was the epitome of beauty.
"Please tell me you haven't finished off the popcorn, Ron," almost the entire Weasley clan, Hermione, Harry, Remus and Sirius demanded as one.
"Heh, heh, heh... oops?" responded Ron sheepishly.
Ginny cast a deathly glare at her brother. The drama however saved him from being a victim of her bat-bogey hex.
Narcissa had taken Lucius' shocked silence as his acceptance or as proof of his...activities with the minister. "I KNEW IT!" she declared in vicious victory. "I ALWAYS SUSPECTED THIS, EVER SINCE YOU STARTED SPENDING MORE TIME AT THE MINISTER'S HOUSE INSTEAD OF AT HOME AND IN OUR BED!"
This, more than anything, jerked Lucius out of his stupor. "I DIDN'T!" he manfully whined. "I SWEAR THAT ISN'T SO!"
"Why do you deny me Lucy?" Cornelius piped in. He wasn't yelling but his anguished tone brought many sniggers, and was heard by everyone. "Why do you deny what we have?"
Lucius blanched and tried to jerk his hand away violently, only to stumble over his Death Eater robes, right into the Minister.
"I ALWAYS SUSPECTED, LUCIUS! WELL, IT'S NOT AS IF I DON'T HAVE ANY INSURANCE AGAINST THE LIKES OF YOU!"
"What do you mean?" Death Eating was only a part-time occupation, and didn't really pay well monetarily. The woman was a Black by birth, and Lucius feared what she might have done.
Narcissa had several grievances against her lawful husband. This was as good an opportunity as any to break away from him. "HAD I WANTED OUT, YOU WOULD HAVE TAKEN MY SON! WELL THANKFULLY, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO SO! HE ISN'T YOUR SON! HE IS SEVERUS'!"
This time, it wasn't only Ron who groaned, "Oh god!" Bloody hell was so inadequate an expression.
Lucius was crossed between bewildered and enraged. Narcissa had cheated, it was true, but the priority was to secure the Heir. The bitch could be cast out later. "HOW CAN THAT BE WOMAN? HE LOOKS LIKE ME! HE EVEN TOOK THE HEIR'S RING!"
"I BLOODY WELL CARRIED HIM FOR NINE MONTHS! I KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT! DRACO IS SEVERUS' SON!"
"But he doesn't even look like Snape!" Remus had had the good sense to dispel the Confundus charm from the Minister. It would do no good to let Harry be arrested.
Narcissa levelled a glare at the Minister. "You have no right to speak to me!" she hissed.
Draco, who had curled up into a ball, was now banging his fists on the ground in protest. He was joined by most of the Hogwartians. Snape and anybody, man or woman, was just too horrible to think about. The twins were holding onto each other and sobbing, staring into the open night sky and wishing it would swallow them. The others were similarly gagging as well.
"BUT THE MAGIC OF THE RING WOULD HAVE ENSURED..."
"YOU BETRAYED ME LUCIUS! SO I DID WHAT I WANTED TO!"
The drama was threatening to extend. Fortunately, someone had called for the Aurors, who shepherded the Death Eaters away along with the Minister, who had been found holding the hand of one.
Sirius stood stock still. "Snivellus procreated," he weakly rasped. "Oh God! He actually...he...Narcissa...he...eewww"
Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance with Ron who was still green. "This is horrible," Hermione said, in a very shaky voice. It was obvious that she was attempting to control the revulsion she felt.
"Tell me about it," Ron sobbed.
"All of a sudden, Draco threatening us with "When my father hears about this" has become a major inconvenience," Harry pointed out simply. "Draco's father can give us detentions."
"You are worried about detentions?" wailed Gred (or was it Forge?) "I will forever look at the white haired ponce who came from Snape's...bits... and...OH GOD!" The twin collapsed. "I will never ever become... I can't even feel like speaking it now..."
That night, just before they retired, each of them took a dose of the Dreamless Sleep potion.
"Moony?"
"Cub?"
"I am not sure I want to prank anyone ever again."
"I get what you are saying, pup. Sometimes a prankster does feel that it would have been better had the prank failed. A failed prank makes you feel sheepish. This though..." He gave a shuddering sigh. "One must learn to accept success, however scary it may be."
The song for this Chapter is 'How deep is Your Love'. And yes, that is a not at all subtle pop at the most ridiculous of story tropes – Harry is actually Snape's son.