-CHAPTER 9-

The Anti Orange League! Huzzah!

The door to the dungeons burst open with an impressive slam. Draco Malfoy, who was sitting near the entrance, instinctively stuck out his foot, just because that's the type of thing that Draco does. Harry went barrelling over it, landing head first in Neville's mound of flobberworms. He wiped the goo from his eyes screaming "I'M HERE! I'M HERE! DON'T KILL ME, I'M HERE!"

The whole class looked on as Harry spun wildly around the room, panting like a maniac. He breathed a sigh of relief as Snape was nowhere to be seen. "Thank God the overgrown old bat isn't here yet. I just can't stand his greasy face. Can you imagine what he would have looked like if he'd been here?" Harry pulled several grotesque facial expressions and grinned at Neville who was sitting in front of him. Neville was as still as a statue, a petrified look on his face. "What's up, Nev?" Harry laughed. "You look like you've seen ol' Snapey standing right behind me after ironically sliming out of the ingredients cupboard when I wasn't looking..." Harry looked around the rest of the room. Most of the students were wearing the same expression as Neville. Except for Malfoy and Co, obviously, who were sniggering to themselves in the corner.

"Oh. Right." Harry said quietly, slowly turning around to face the livid Snape, who was in fact standing behind Harry after ironically sliming out of the ingredients cupboard when he wasn't looking.

Snape loomed over Harry, grease dripping ominously from his hair and his robes billowing. A small Slytherin first year was crouched under Snape's desk, waving two fans around to get the effect just right. Harry looked at the boy questioningly and the boy squeaked "I'm doing it to bring up my Potions grade!"

"So, you've decided to grace us with your presence, Mister Potter?" Snape said nastily.

"Well I wouldn't be standing here otherwise." Harry said.

"Don't talk when I am talking you insolent boy!" Snape screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.

Harry wrinkled his nose and wiped the spit from his face. "Sorreey. I thought you'd finished" He said.

"Well I WASN'T!" The Potions master said indignantly. He then deflated slightly. "Actually, I, um, didn't have anything else to say."

"There we go then." Harry said.

Snape drew himself back up to his everyday intimidating stance. "Nevertheless that does NOT give you the right to INSULT your SUPERIORS."

Harry raised a well-practiced eyebrow. "Superior. That's debatable."

"Why are you always undermining my authority? Why? WHY??" Snape was, by now, panting heavily and a series of titters arose from the class as his pallid face stained blotchy pink. "STOP THAT LAUGHING." He screamed. Everyone shut up. Snape looked wildly at the class and his angry gaze settled on an unlucky Gryffindor. "YOU. STOP BREATHING SO LOUD. 600 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR. 700 POINTS TO SLYTHERIN." The boy opened his mouth to argue back.

"But! But, sir-" He gasped, but Snape threw a spleen at him.

"Don't. Even. Think. About it." He hissed. As Snape had never been that brilliant at sporting events, the spleen landed about three feet from its intended target, but it's the thought that counts.

Harry, meanwhile, had been slowly sidling towards the door. He was pretty sure that if he was quiet enough and no one drew attention to him he could sneak away without being noticed. He wasn't really relishing the thought of handing in his essay. It was rather bad. After Harry had left Ron locked away in their dorm room, he had returned to the cosy fire in the common room determined to re-do his essay. And it was going to be the best darn essay that had ever been written!

…Then he decided that it would be a good idea to train himself to hold his breath for abnormal amounts of time, just in case he should ever be in a situation where that would come in handy. So that distracted him until about three-thirty in the morning.

Then he decided to get on with his essay. …But of course, by then, it was so late that it took a dozen cans of Relentless to even stay awake and he was so high on the alarming caffeine content that most of the handwriting was practically illegible. The random spillages covering approximately half the total area of the essay didn't really help the overall presentation either.

'Yess' Harry thought. 'In your face world! I've escaped the clutches of that overgrown, evil, slimy, smelly-'

"POTTER"

Harry stood poker still, one foot half way out the door. "Balls." He said.

"Potter, you really must be as stupid as I've always know, as you seem to forget that, for all intents and purposes, I can read your mind." Snape gave him a steely glare. Harry slowly slid his foot back over the threshold, coming to a stop in such a stance that would normally be gracing a seven year old lad being told off. "Essay. Now." Snape said.

Harry fumbled blindly in his bag and shoved the essay in Snape's general direction.

The rest of the class were watching this exchange with a mixture of avid amusement and painful empathy. The Slytherin's being the former had actually got Pansy Parkinson making them some popcorn.

"What are these stains?" Snape spat after briefly inspecting Harry's essay. Harry mumbled something in reply. "What? Speak properly you insolent child." Snape shouted.

"Relentless." Harry sulked.

"What, pray tell, is that?"

"It's a muggle drink consisting of mostly caffeine." There were jeering insults from the Slytherins, a lot of them containing the word 'mudblood'. These calls stopped however when Dean slapped Malfoy around the head. Malfoy whipped out his pocket mirror and began to frantically check his hair.

"I can't even read this, it is quite frankly appalling. You will sit in detention tomorrow and re-do this essay. I expect it will take at least two hours with your atrocious academic capacity." Snape turned around to the rest of the class sharply, told them off, then billowed away to make Neville cry.

The rest of the two-hour class passed without incident and at break Harry sloped off to the Transfiguration Courtyard muttering darkly to himself.

As he crossed the lawn he caught sight of a small crowd around a bench, on which he was not entirely surprised to see Ron was standing on. He was wearing the stupid wig again and holding a sign demanding a cull of ginger people. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed.

He stormed over to the sniggering crowd and said loudly. "Ron, I am so not in the mood for this." Ron looked around happily and shouted "Down with gingers! Join the anti-orange league!" He waved his sign enthusiastically.

"Ron. Get. Down. From. There." Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Never!"

"I'm not going to ask you again."

Ron looked at Harry, his wig slightly askew with a small tuft of tangerine hair poking out the front. "But don't you want to rid the world of the unworthy?? The blight on our society??"

"You are ginger. Your whole family is ginger. You ARE the blight on society." Harry snapped. The crowd snorted almost in unison as Ron stiffened and leaned down to Harry.

"Don't ever say that." He hissed. He addressed the crowd. "Ahaha…ha…ha… what larks Harry! Just making a little joke there. He's always messing around, aren't you mate." He slapped Harry unnecessarily hard on the back and whipped out a photo. He showed it to the throng. "See, my family is not ginger!"

The picture was the old one from the Daily Prophet, in black and white except where Ron had scribbled vaguely hair-shaped yellow bits around his family's heads. The twins looked rather surly, as Ron had done them matching beehives. Harry raised his eyebrows skeptically as Ginny walked past, drinking a milkshake and minding her own business. The sun glinted off her bright red hair.

"Isn't that your sister?" Said an anonymous voice from the crowd, and they all turned to stare at her.

"What?" She said.

Ron panicked. "Oh, ahh, you see, she's not really… LOOK! A BEAR!" he suddenly shouted pointing in the opposite direction. The crowd looked around and he wildly shot a spell at Ginny who screamed. Pink, frothy liquid splattered out of the cup as the drink exploded on the lawn. The crowd looked back. "See! See! She's a natural brunette!" Ron screamed.

Ginny was standing there looking mortified. Her hair was not brown; in fact it was gone. The sun glinted off her baldy head. She burst into tears. Harry grabbed a hat from a passing second year and rammed it on her head. "Off you go, off you go, quickly go and hide somewhere." He said, ushering her away. "Now, Ron. I'm not going to tell you again. Get off. The bench." Ron's eyes began to water.

"Don't make me, Harry!" He said. "I won't go back there!"

"Back where?"

"THERE!!"

"For Christ's sakes Ron there is no there! Get off the damn bench!" Harry screamed, quickly losing his rag.

"NO!"

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS."

A beam of light shot out of Harry's wand and Ron froze in mid-shriek. He keeled off the bench backwards with a thud and Harry summoned a wheelbarrow from the corner of the courtyard. He dumped Ron into it and wheeled him away shouting "Shows over folks, move along, move along."

As the crowd dispersed, moaning that it was just getting good, Harry parked the wheelbarrow in a fairly deserted corridor. "Ron, I know this is hard for you to accept and I'm sorry I had to hex you." He said, dragging some benches across the corridor and propping a sign on them saying "Keep out for you own safety". Ron's eyes flickered angrily. Well. It may have been angrily, there weren't many indications to go by, what with being paralyzed and all.

Harry paused and shook his head. "Now don't look at me like that, it's for your own good." Ron's eyes flickered frantically. Harry finished his safety precautions and went over to the wheelbarrow. He removed the wig from Ron's head and held it aloft, his wand pointed at it. Ron's eyes were spinning so fast they were a blur.

Harry nodded in a kindly manner and promptly set fire to the wig. He dropped it on the floor as unpleasant black smoke rose from the smoldering pile of acrylic. He then unfroze Ron.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ron screamed, falling on the once-blond mound of plastic. "The burning is LOVE." He sat up and looked at Harry with tears streaming down his face. Bits of the blackened acrylic were welded to his clothes and skin. Harry looked worried.

"Erm. Maybe we should get Madame Pomfrey to get that off…" He said.

"What's the point? What's the point? Whatsthepointwhatsthepointwhatsthepoint?" Ron sobbed.

"Well… because it's burnt to your skin. Which I'm assuming isn't good for you"

"I don't care!"

"Come on now Ron, don't be silly."

"You!" Through watery eyes he focused on Harry's face. "You burnt my wig! You wig burner!" Snot dribbled attractively down his face.

"Sorry Ron. I didn't think it would make you cry." Harry said, starting to feel a bit guilty. He looked down at his friend's pathetic state and awkwardly patted him on the head. He then wiped his hand on his robes.

Ron threw himself around Harry's legs. "Oh Harry! I know it wasn't your fault! I forgive you!"

"But it was my fault. I set it on fire."

"I know it was for the best." He scrambled up and clung on around Harry's neck.

"Erm, thanks but can you get off please?" He tried to prize Ron's arms from around his neck without much luck. People were starting to ignore the sign and filter through into the corridor. They all slowed down to watch the strange scene. Not unlike traffic going past a horrific accident. Why is that? Harry's face began to flush with embarrassment.

"I love you Harry! You're the best friend a guy could have!" Ron cried.

Harry began to panic, practically wrenching Ron's arms from their sockets in his haste to get free. The crowd was actively laughing at them now, pointing and sniggering. "Please don't make me kill you." Harry said through gritted teeth, hastily ushering Ron away.

"You would never kill anyone Harry! Your heart is so noble and true!" Ron looked to his friend in adoration. Harry ignored him and managed to push him all the way up to their dormitory. He performed a spell on the door, locking it up tight, having previously confiscated Ron's wand.

The door handle rattled.

"Harreeeey… Haaaarreeeey…" Ron called through the door. Harry stood flattened against the wall opposite the door and looked at it. "Let me out Harreey…"

"No!"

"You know you want toooo…"

"No! I don't want to! You're scary and weird!" Harry began to sidle away down the stairs and towards the common room.

"Don't leeeeaaave meeee…." Ron's voice faded away and then suddenly there was silence. Harry paused on the stairs. He looked at the door, then down towards the safety of the crowded room below. He looked back at the door.

"Ron?" He said in a small voice. "Ron? Are you there?" He took a step towards the door.

"HELLO." Boomed a voice directly above his left ear. Harry screamed and toppled over, thudding down a few steps on his arse. He covered his head with his arms, squeaking with fear, until he realised that someone was laughing hysterically at him.

He looked up at the wall, where there was a portrait of an old man wheezing with laughter. "That wasn't funny!" He cried, clambering hastily to his feet. The man just laughed. "Oh shut it you." He said, grasping the portrait and shaking it. There was a series of thuds and shouts and when Harry stopped shaking it the old man's head could just about be seen over the edge of the frame. "Young 'uns today!" His muffled voice said.

Harry brushed his hands together and turned back to the door. "Ron?" He called, knocking on the door. "Are you still there?" Harry listened for a moment and slowly drew out his wand. He performed the unlocking spell on the door and gently pushed it open. "Hello?"

He peered in the room, and finding it empty, slammed the door open and screamed for a bit.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET OUT??" He screamed.

-

Most of the previous chapters have been edited a bit. If you can be arsed, feel free to read the improvedness of them. Don't worry if you can't though, I probably wouldn't :)