It couldn't be helped; the teens spent the entire time at the mall laughing at Padfoot and his antics. He was just too much of a bedraggled caricature of a poodle to be taken seriously. His tail was raised to full mast and head held at a jaunty angle with his nose 45 degrees into the air. It was just a comical sight. But what really made the picture was the fact his eyes were halfway closed and anytime the group passed a trash bin or another dog, Padfoot gave a harrumph of displeasure like it was the others' fault he had to pass it.
Three hours later, the tumbling of the front door locks could be heard. That is if Lady Black hadn't been screaming about blood traitors or Muggle filth and cursing so bad that a Marine would have blushed. With the door open a crack; Padfoot stuck his nose through, not smelling anyone he pushed his head the rest of the way through to confirm the coast was clear. A wag of his tail signaled for everyone to pile through the door and make like lemmings for their hideout. (Which is really just that bedroom in the attic. Apparently Buckbeak makes for an excellent guard.) As they made it to the foot of the stairs, George being the last one to pass gently tapped on Lady Black's frame to let her know they were back and the distraction could end.
As the group reached the first floor landing, Padfoot changed back into Sirius and he peeled off from the group with a jaunty salute and whistle on the way to his study. He had to finish investigating the goodies they had bought at the toy and pet stores. Hitting the second landing, the foursome had to quickly duck into a couple of linen closets so neither Ginny nor Ron would see the shopping bags the group was weighed down with. As the cloying scent of perfume and thundering feet on stairs faded, four heads popped out of two closets.
"Always knew you two would end up in a broom closet together," Fred teased.
"Yeah, you two are just to close to not be that close if you get our meaning," George said as he sent an overly exaggerated leer at Harry and Hermione.
"We would make a comment about you two being overly comfortable in a broom closet, but that would require us to use mental bleach. And sadly we ran out after Ginny and Ron attempted to flirt with us respectively." Hermione retorted.
"George, I don't know if we should be insulted on behalf of our siblings or disgusted by our fellow pranksters' minds." Fred said.
"I vote you should be both, but mainly disgusted on our behalf." Harry said, providing his own insight.
Tossing Buckbeak a squirrel Padfoot caught on the way back, the four Marauders-in-training opened the door to their hideout and placed (dropped) their bags on the bed within. A quick insertion of batteries as needed in theā¦research items and an explanation of everything saw teams made and a battle lines drawn.
Each dueler was armed with four weapons. A Nerf gun and a rubber band gun were deigned for long distance with a Lightsaber to be used after all the ammo was gone. And if or when the lightsaber was lost, a rubber chicken was to be used as either a dagger or means of surrender. The bed was picked as the "Dead Man's Club" for when someone was eliminated.
"Okay everyone, a few rules," Hermione said. "One, No head shots and that includes with rubber chickens. Two, no picking up ammo off the floor. Three, everything stays in this room. And four," Hermione slowly took aim, "it is every man for himself." She fired her gun hitting Harry square in the gut and setting the battle off as everyone dove for cover.
Twenty minutes later utterly spent from laughter and nursing their "battle wounds" with butter-beer, the Twins and the Ninjas were sitting on the bed. Fred and George were sitting with their backs against the headboard and were stealing the other's drink from his hand. Across the bed from them and lounging across the foot found Hermione using Harry as a pillow. Settled down, the conversation turned to the fake wands the Twins were developing.
"While I think a lightsaber would work, the rubber chicken would be more disconcerting and an easier change," Harry said into the pleasantly exhausted silence.
"Hmmmm that would work. We wouldn't have to figure out the size conversion. Plus, wizards would recognize the rubber chicken while being stumped by the 'saber" Fred and George said, thinking aloud to each other.
Rolling her head so she could see the Twins, Hermione's eyes lit up with a plot and a smirk appeared on her lips. "Gred, Forge, I will buy the first dozen chicken wands you make if you can make all of them look like Riddle's wand." She said.
All three boys looked askance at Hermione wondering what new plot was hatching in her scarily psychotic and brilliant mind.
"Why would you want them to look like that?" George asked.
As George finished his question, Harry started to truly laugh. "Hermione, you are a true evil mastermind. You even have the cat for it. I think we could get Dobby and Winky to even deliver the wands. That way no owls would be hurt in the playing of your prank." Harry said.
Blushing at the adoration and praise being bestowed up her, Hermione shrugged and tried to explain her idea. "I just figured it would serve him right if every time Wartyshorts went to use his wand he had to wonder if his spell would be exiting his wand or if it would be a rubber chicken." Hermione said, her face bright red as she tried to hide from the appraising looks the boys were giving her.
Glaring at the kissy faces the Twins were shooting at them, Harry stroked Hermione's hair as he whispered for her to kick the twins and telling her exactly how brilliant he thought she is.
"We can do it. We'll even give you a cohort discount and have them ready in a week. Just please don't kick us again. Your toes are sharp." George said.
A week later and the first of many batches of the chicken wands was sent to Riddle's hideout. When a scream was heard echoing from some distant place and a smirk appeared on Harry's face, the adults became a bit wary. It was not until later when a barking laugh and a howl of mirth filled Grimmauld Place that the adults became afraid. Anything that got those kinds of reactions out of Sirius and Remus was not good. The children though did not seem to worry nor care all that much. The Twins and the Sandwich Ninjas only cared about the rematch of their battle the next day. And if a sack of galleons and a note signed with a paw print and full moon drawn as the signature appeared in the twins' room, who were they to deny their "anonymous" benefactor(s) the joy of an excellent prank pulled off masterfully.
When the rematch of their 'saber/nerf/rubber chicken was planned, Sirius and Remus were invited to join. On the day of the (re) battle, the battleground had been expanded to the whole house. Hostages were going to be allowed with points awarded for who the hostage was and if you stole said hostage away from someone else. Double points were being offered if the hostage(s) was Ron, Snape, or Dumbledore. Triple for either of the female Weasley. As the clock in the hall struck noon the battle began. Outside the sounds of a waging war, the only noise echoing through out Grimmauld Place was a yell of "SPORK!"
AN: So two chapters in one week. I actually split up the two chapters based off what I had originally written. For some reason I don't like posting "chapters" that are more than 3 to 4 pages long typed. Thank you for everyone who is reading this and leaving me comments, your cyber cookies are in the mail.
Don't own and don't really care to. Would much rather be the "cool Aunt" that spoils the characters and returns them to their mom packed full of sugar.
