Chapter nine: In which Danny and Randall bond over a dead basilisk
When dinner rolled around, parts of Hogwarts were almost unrecognizable.
The walls were covered with posters, courtesy of Peeves the poltergeist. He had started out in obscure parts of the castle- the Astronomy Tower, the route to Trelawney's classroom- before plastering the Great Hall sometime between breakfast and lunch. When the students arrived for their noontime meal, it was only to find that the Great Hall's walls were almost completely obscured.
C.U.R.E. had created five posters- why limit the group to just one?
The first poster contained four caricatures: a vampire-like man dripping grease from his hair, his perpetual sneer almost hidden by an immense nose; a round pink figure with a toad's head clutching a bloody quill in its hand; a dirty, mad-looking man wielding a mop; and a sepia-toned ghost who seemed to be sleeping. The four caricatures were barricaded behind a red circle with a diagonal line through it, the same symbol used by anti-smoking campaigns and the Ghostbusters. JOIN C.U.R.E. TODAY! it proclaimed.
Another poster showed the same greasy man forcing an evil-looking potion down an innocent toad's throat while children in Gryffindor robes looked on and wept. In the background, the Filch character rubbed his hands with glee. The third: the pink figure representing Umbridge cut open students' hands, ignoring their struggles and tears. The fourth: Professor Binns's classroom filled with beds, blankets, and even a teddy or two. The teacher himself chattered on, oblivious to the fact that his students were fast asleep. The fifth: a gigantic three-headed, slobbering dog trotted through the halls of Hogwarts. It was followed by a great green snake and a trio of dementors, who were in turn followed by a dragon.
All these posters had the same caption: IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT AT HOGWARTS? JOIN C.U.R.E. TODAY!
Umbridge, Filch, and Snape did their best to remove the posters, but Peeves hadn't exaggerated when he said that no one could get them down. He'd had to use up most of his carefully hoarded glue collection (don't ask), but it had been worth it. Oh yes, he thought, watching Filch attack a poster with a mop, definitely worth it.
No one was surprised when Umbridge, using her powers as High Inquisitor, ordered everyone to meet in the Great Hall at six that night, and that anyone who joined this 'band of rebels' was no friend of hers. She told the teachers, who repeated her message verbatim to their classes.
"No friend of hers, eh?" the students muttered, grinning. "Sign me up!"
When supper finally did roll around, over ninety percent of the school had signed at least one of C.U.R.E.'s petitions. Four out of five students was a full-fledged member. Percentages varied from House to House- everyone in Hufflepuff had joined straight on, while the Slytherins had the fewest members- but gaining the allegiance of eighty percent of a population in less than twenty-four hours was nothing to sneeze at.
"I love the smell of chaos in the evening," Danny told Randall. The honey badger, who had been chewing on a basilisk bone, nodded. He wasn't quite sure what the gesture meant, but it seemed appropriate.
"Not that I'm smelling it yet," Danny continued, "since we're in the Secret Chamber or whatever it's called and there's no one around us- nice job finding this place, by the way, this is a great hideout to practice spells and my ghost powers- but you get the idea."
Randall went back to chewing on his basilisk bone.
The honey badger had stumbled upon the 'Secret Chamber' (or, as it was more properly known, the Chamber of Secrets) less than two hours after his debut in the Great Hall. He had needed to explore the Stone-Den-of-Bacon-and-Worshippers, for only a foolish creature remained willfully ignorant of its surroundings. Wandering through the walls, he had found a Second-Dark-Den-in-the-Earth that was filled with the bones of a Great-Snake-Creature. Curious, he had brought a bone back to the Thing-That-Was-Unique, hoping that the Thing would know what it was and where he could find another one. A Great-Snake-Creature that large would provide much meat for his belly.
Danny, seeing an opportunity for promoting C.U.R.E. (not to mention an opportunity for his own privacy. He had to keep up on his ghost powers somehow), had followed the honey badger back to the Chamber. He'd spent the rest of the afternoon working off stress in his ghost form (much to Randall's amazement. The honey badger took an absurd amount of delight in watching Danny switch forms) and, later, practicing first-year spells.
Did he like to think that he would only get out of Hogwarts only by playing their game? No. Was he going to risk closing off any avenue of escape? Once again, no.
"You wanna come with me?" the halfa continued.
Randall considered a moment before returning to his bone.
Danny chuckled. "You sure? Your worshippers miss you."
Well, Randall was hardly going to let his devoted slaves go one moment longer than necessary without coddling him. He dropped his bone to the ground (it wouldn't go anywhere) and watched curiously as Danny bundled up a snakeskin, one of the many which littered the Chamber's floor. He wrapped a basilisk fang within the scaly mass. Then, just for good measure, he added another tooth to the pile.
"Think this'll be enough?"
"Rrr."
"Me too. Let's go, then. By the way, you'll have to lead- I can turn the snakeskin invisible while no one's around, but once we get to Hogwarts I won't be able to see over it."
Randall bared his teeth in his equivalent of a smile.
"And since we're in Britain…" Danny adopted an overdone English accent. "Tally-ho!"
The one-and-a-half ghosts flew into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where Danny reverted to human form. "Lead the way," he instructed cheerily.
Randall led the way.
The two conspirators stopped at the doors of the Great Hall. It was just past six, so all the stragglers had already entered. Danny pressed his ear against the door, listening silently. He signaled Randall to do the same. The honey badger obeyed.
They had arrived just in time. "Hem, hem," called the unpleasant voice of Dolores Umbridge. Randall growled softly. Danny laid a hand across the animal's back.
"Hem, hem," the witch continued. "Quiet down, please, boys and girls."
The students chattered for a few seconds more, just out of spite, before their conversations trailed off.
"It has come to my attention that you students also realize that the educational standards here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have reached their nadir. Between the dangerous half-breeds-"
Boos erupted from the audience. Danny tensed, grabbed a handful of Randall's fur. Now it was the honey badger's turn to calm him.
She didn't… know, did she?
No, he decided, she couldn't. Wizards had no understanding of 'real' ghosts. They had no idea that hybrids even existed, much less that Danny was one. The half-breeds comment had to be about that Hagrid guy who was MIA and the werewolf who'd taught Defense a couple years ago.
"-lack of Ministry-approved curricula-"
The booing redoubled.
"-and delusions of the Dark Lord's return, neither I nor the Ministry blame you for being worried about Hogwarts. However, the rebellion known as C.U.R.E. is not the way to go about addressing your concerns. I am your Ministry-approved teacher. I am your friend. I am here to help you."
Once again, the booing redoubled. Umbridge had to shout to be heard over it. "The seditious American who desires to turn you against me-"
Ah, show time. Danny kicked open the doors. They bounced against the Hall's walls with a satisfyingly dramatic bang.
The hall fell silent. All eyes turned to the new arrival.
Randall, bless his little heart, knew exactly what to do even without being told (or rather asked. One does not tell a honey badger to do anything). He grabbed the top of the basilisk skin pile and zoomed to the center of the hall, stretching out the entire length of the skin. Danny remained in place, holding the tail end of the serpent.
Several girls shrieked. Boys yelped. A couple older students grabbed their wands.
"Exhibit A," Danny announced. "The skin of Slytherin's Monster, a basilisk of child-murdering death. This thing was designed for killing. Its eyes steal life with a glance. Its fangs-" He brandished one in his free hand "-are hollow, filled with poison. Not to mention that they're really sharp. And if all these attack techniques fail, the thing was so big that it could easily have squished you under x thousand pounds of scale and muscle."
Umbridge recovered enough to demand, "What is the meaning of this?"
"If you'll quit interrupting me, I'll tell you," Danny snapped back.
Umbridge flushed, turning almost as pink as her caricature self. "You little-"
"The only action her precious Ministry took against this thing? They arrested an innocent man and threw him to a bunch of soul-sucking demon-beasts without a trial. Problem solved, right? Um, no. Not. At. All.
"In the end, it was a second-year student who brought this thing down. Not the Ministry. Not the school board. A student." He smiled at the appalled, slack-jawed Harry. "He knew that the authority figures around here wouldn't do squat, so at the age of twelve- twelve!- he had to fight this thing.
"This-" He shook the serpent's discarded skin "-is why we don't trust your precious Ministry. This, and the dementor guardians, and the Ministry-sanctioned gladiator tournament, and all the other crap you've let this place experience. The school itself is definitely at fault here- no one can dispute that- but so. Are. You." He fixed Umbridge with a glare that would have done the dead basilisk proud.
"And now that you bureaucrats have finally gotten off your butts long enough to do anything, you're going about it all wrong. Blood Quills, Dolores? Really? How does torture help 'improve Hogwarts's standards'?"
She didn't answer. Danny smiled, hard and cold as ice. "That's what I thought you'd say."
He dropped the skin, fixed a level gaze on the students. "Those who were supposed to take care of us have failed. One failure was forgivable, but I don't even know how many times they've let us down. Each year, things here at Hogwarts get worse and worse. That's why we have to take things into our own hands."
He stalked up to the Head Table. "And we have. If you signed any of the petitions or our membership list, please stand up."
Chairs scraped across the stone floor. Robes rustled. Almost every single Hogwarts student rose to his feet.
Randall tugged at the hem of Ernie's robes. The Hufflepuff grinned. He understood exactly what the honey badger wanted him to do. Taking out four sheets of parchment, he strode to stand beside Danny. "Here are the petitions, Headmaster, which demand the firing of Dolores Umbridge, Severus Snape, Cuthbert Binns, and Argus Filch."
Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid I must deny them," he said gravely.
Umbridge recovered enough to speak. "This is an outrage!" she cried. "An-"
Randall growled. The witch fell silent.
"I have to warn you," Danny said in a too-light, too-pleasant voice, "that we of C.U.R.E. are prepared to take action if you don't even consider these."
Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "I understand that you are upset about leaving your family-"
"But," Danny interrupted (and around him, a great gasp went up as wizards stared in horrified wonder at the boy who had interrupted Albus Perceval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore), "that doesn't explain why so many people have joined the group, now, does it? C.U.R.E. couldn't have been formed unless there was a lot of pent-up rage here."
The headmaster waved a negligent hand, a grandfather humoring his beloved, if rather dim, grandson. "Hogwarts has no intention of firing any teachers. Even Dolores will be gone by the end of the year, when the curse takes hold."
Danny latched onto his last comment. "So there is a curse, huh? Tell me, how many people have tried to remove that curse? How many experts have you brought in to get rid of it?"
Dumbledore blinked at him.
"The Ministry of Magic believes that there is no curse on my position," Umbridge announced. "Now sit down, you little-"
"…Please tell me that you've actually attempted to remove it. Please tell me that you didn't just wave your wand with a simple finite incantatem and call it a day."
"I assure you, Mr. Fenton, that I put in considerably more effort than that." Dumbledore's voice was cold, no longer indulgent.
"What about the experts?" Danny demanded. "How many of them did you hire? And for that matter, didn't it ever occur to you to change the title? Even I know that names have power- why didn't you change Defense Against the Dark Arts to just plain old Defense?"
Dumbledore stood, very tall. "I do not believe, Mr. Fenton, that you know what you are talking about."
"Even if I don't, what about them?" Danny gestured at the watching hall. "They've been here a lot longer than I have, but they feel the same way. Heck, I didn't even come up with the name-change idea. That's Jason's brainchild. And Jason is thirteen."
Jason waved, as did his sister Susie.
"Each of these staff members, with the exception of Dolores, has my complete trust."
"I trust Sir Randall, but I wouldn't let him teach Potions to eleven-year-olds. No offense, Overlord."
The honey badger snorted. What did the Thing-That-is-Unique mean, he wouldn't let Randall teach? No Thing, unique or not, would command the Overlord of Hufflepuff. If Randall had wanted to teach Potions (which he didn't. Potions smelled), there wasn't a blame thing the Thing could do to stop him.
Not that he could communicate these thoughts to the halfa. Honey badgers were many things, but articulate was not one of them. Some ghost animals could speak, but if Randall was destined for that ability, he hadn't acquired it yet.
"You are being ridiculous, Mr. Fenton."
"No, you're the one who's being ridiculous. It's abundantly clear that Snape's a jerk, Filch is a jerk, Umbridge is a jerk, and Binns is incompetent. The students of Hogwarts are sick and tired of putting up with them. That's why we made these petitions." His eyes narrowed. "Ignore them if you want, but know that there will be consequences. We aren't going to quit just because you don't take us seriously."
That was a good note to end on. Danny spun on his heel, stalked majestically out of the Great Hall. He paused at the threshold. "Tomorrow, we initiate Phase Two." Then he stepped out, slamming the door behind him.
"Go C.U.R.E.!"
The world would never learn just who was responsible for that cry, but it was quickly taken up by almost every student in the school.
"Phase Two!"
"Fenton and the Overlord!"
"Viva la revolucion!"
It took a few Silencing Spells (which were all of dubious legality and would be remembered), but the professors eventually settled their rowdy students down. "Staff meeting," Dumbledore murmured. Followed by his employees, he adjourned to the teachers' lounge.
"I think we should listen to them," Sprout announced the moment they were out of the students' hearing. "Merlin knows I've felt the same way on more than one occasion."
"That is irrelevant, Pomona," Dumbledore said coldly. "If we let them triumph, children will rule the school before the year's end."
"Albus, don't you understand that this is only the beginning? Daniel is right. Discontent has been simmering for years, kept at bay only by fear and disorganization. Now that they've joined together-"
"They don't know what they're talking about," Umbridge hissed. "Treason against the Ministry of Magic!"
Sprout could have strangled her. "You know it's true, Dolores! Daniel struck a match; now the school will go up in flames faster than Neville Longbottom's cauldron unless we nip this in the bud. I know my badgers. United, they can do anything they set their minds to- and right now, they've set their minds to reforming the school."
She repeated her argument several times, but no one listened. Instead, they carried on their own conversation about how to break the student rebellion without even listening to the children's demands.
Pomona gave up. Rubbing her temples, she muttered, "All right. Do it your way. But don't say I didn't warn you."
At the same time that Danny stormed from the Great Hall, Jazz looked out her dorm's window and saw a ghost. A teenage girl ghost, to be exact.
"Hi, Danni," she said with a smile.
Her sort-of sister phased through the wall. "Hi, Jazz. You know how we couldn't get Danny out?"
Jazz's grip tightened around her pen. "Oh, I know." The pen snapped, spilling ink onto her desk.
"Well," the halfa announced, "there's no way I'm letting him stay there any longer than necessary. So I came up with this." She handed a sheet of paper to her sister. "The only problem is that I don't legally exist, so would you mind claiming credit for writing this?"
"Of course," Jazz agreed. She scanned the paper. As she read, she began to smile. The smile grew steadily wider. "I'd be glad to claim credit. Are you sending another version to the British media too?"
"I think so, yeah, but I've only had time to write this." Danni grinned sheepishly. "You know I don't have a lot of experience at typing."
Jazz nodded.
Danni's head snapped up. "Ah, crud," she groaned. "The duplicate I left back at Amity is being attacked. Mind if I head out? I'd prefer to have all my power while fighting Vlad."
"Of course you can!" Jazz exclaimed. She knew exactly how tough the older halfa was. Danni was powerful and experienced enough to beat him, but it was probably a bad idea to cripple her with an unnecessary duplicate.
The ghost girl nodded once before vanishing into the ether.
Jazz sighed softly. "Good luck, little sister."
"Where is he?" Vlad demanded.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Danni sneered, dodging the older man's blast.
"I'm no fool, Danielle. Daniel's friends wouldn't have summoned you unless they were very, very desperate."
The girl's eyes flashed. Oh, he was just asking for it.
Tucker, watching the ensuing beating, flinched. "I almost feel sorry for Vlad." A crash. "Okay, now I do feel sorry for him."
"Don't," Sam instructed. "He's a jerk."
Tucker nodded. Vlad had indeed done some rather jerky things- cloning attempts, attempts to melt that cloning attempt, kidnapping, hijacking an airplane (admittedly one he'd owned, but still), setting Rome on fire and framing the Emperor Nero (thereby cementing his reputation as one of the worst jerks in history)…. But jerk or not, school had been cancelled for the day when the so-called Wisconsin Ghost had made an appearance. So he kind of owed the halfa one.
Ishiyama and Lancer knew from past experience that when 'that vampire wannabe in the weird Elvis/Dracula getup' shows up, things tended to explode. As such, it was a better idea to evacuate the students before they got hurt.
Besides, it was Friday. Even teachers like getting home early on Fridays.
Danni swooped down. Her hair was matted with green ichor, the left leg of her pants torn, but she was smiling. "Guess who won?" she laughed, brandishing a Fenton thermos.
The humans grinned. "Vlad," they chorused.
Danni snorted. "Yeah, right." She gave the thermos a little shake. Something inside it thudded against the walls.
"What now?" Tucker asked. "A celebratory Nasty Burger?"
"How is it celebratory to feast on the murdered carcass of an innocent animal?" Sam demanded.
"It's celebratory because it's delicious. Duh."
Danni grimaced. She hadn't experienced one of these carnivore/vegan 'debates' before, but Danny had told (meaning warned) her all about them. "If they ever start going at it, you need to distract them," he had advised. "Preferably before sporks get involved. And no, Danni, you really don't want to know what I mean by that."
The halfa cast her mind about for a distraction. Fortunately, her brother had provided the perfect excuse. "Why don't we go to the Halo de Sondiscoj? I bet that Jack and Maddie are out of the house right now. We could sneak in, borrow the Specter Speeder, and head over to the Hall."
"Good idea," Sam said, "but you forgot one thing."
"What?"
"What happens when they come back and find the Specter Speeder missing?"
Green eyes narrowed. "Are you implying that I should let them chase me around town until you guys get back?"
"Actually, I wasn't. But that's not a bad idea."
Tucker stuck out his lower lip. "Will you do it? Please?"
Danni's lips twitched. "Fine. But I expect a reward after this, understand?"
"You mean a celebratory-"
"Actually, I meant a movie at the theater. With lots of buttery, greasy popcorn and a pop the size of my head."
"Okay," Tucker agreed. "I'll check out the list of showings in the Speeder. Now, unless my timing is quite off, they should show up right-"
The GAV barreled into the parking lot, nearly crushing Tetslaff's car.
"-now."
"That's my cue," Danni observed.
The humans watched her zoom off, pursued by the Fentons. Sam shook her head. "That family is so messed up."
"Tell me about it," Tucker agreed.
Their discussion on how messed up the Fenton clan was continued as they entered FentonWorks (its residents had left it unlocked in their haste to get to Danni), acquired the Specter Speeder, and sailed it into the Ghost Zone. Tucker set the machine on autopilot and leaned back in his seat. "Okay, I think we've about exhausted that subject."
Sam shook her head. "I don't think that an encyclopedia could exhaust that subject."
"Okay, point. But I still want to stop. It's kind of depressing."
"My forte," Sam noted. "You have anything better to talk about?"
"Um… backup plans to break Danny out of Hogwarts?"
"Works for me. But I'm not sure if those are really necessary, you know? Danny is more than capable of finding his own way out."
"But conspiring is fun."
Sam smiled wickedly. "Good point."
That conversation continued until they actually arrived at the Halo de Sondiscoj. Then they had slightly more important things to say, like explaining to the bemused guard what a pair of humans was doing at the seat of the Ghost Zone's government. Fortunately, this guard was a fan of Phantom's, so he let them pass.
The hall was set up rather like an American bank that had been adapted for customers who could fly. Three rows with fifteen tellers each took up the far wall. Each teller had a long line standing or floating before him. The two humans joined the shortest ground line (unlike ghosts, they couldn't fly to one of the upper rows) and waited. Ten minutes later, they approached the teller, who gawked at them with bulging red eyes.
"Hi," the techno-geek said, speaking Esperanto, "I'm Tucker Foley. I'd like to look at the death record for a guy calling himself Lord Voldemort, please. He supposedly died Halloween nineteen ninety-one."
The ghost frowned slightly, but he was getting paid to help anyone who asked for it. "All right then, Mr. Foley. Let me pull that up…." He typed a few words into his computer, hit enter.
Tucker had an excellent view of the clerk's emotional progression. The ghost's face was initially disinterested, if faintly bemused at the humans' presence, but that quickly changed. Horror came first, then fury. "That- that- abomination!" He slammed his hands against the keyboard, spat a curse. "Seven? Seven!"
"Seven whats?" Tucker asked.
The ghost stood. "Wait here," he ordered. "I need to find an Observant."
"Is that really necessary?" the techno-geek squeaked. He wasn't particularly comfortable around the one-eyed mutants.
"It is!" the ghost called as he flew away.
Tucker looked at Sam. Sam looked at Tucker. The other ghosts in the room looked at both of them.
The awkward silence was broken by Sam's sigh. "I get the feeling something bad just happened."
"Yeah," Tucker groaned. "Me too."
I got the Chamber of Secrets/secret headquarters thing from deadlydaisy808, who pointed out that no crossovers actually take advantage of the secret room underneath the school. I don't think she intended for it to become Randall's official home, but... well, it IS being used.
About the timeline: in the HP canon, Voldemort died Halloween 1981, not 1991, as Tucker said. I know this. I also know that the DP universe is set at least a decade after the HP adventures begin because of all the technology. To make the timelines slightly more compatible (without involving Clockwork), I'm just pretending that everything in HPland happened 10 years later than JKR said.
Remember, the ghost clerk dude is a GHOST. By that, I mean he is dead. He and his buddies don't care about humans dying quite as much as humans do (they see it as natural, inevitable, and sometimes beneficial- THEY know that dead people just become ghosts), so they're not overly concerned about that part of Voldie's terrorist campaign. But I imagine that ghosts would be very, VERY annoyed at some idiot human splitting his soul SEVEN times. Voldie really should have just stuck to murder. Then he wouldn't have random ghost clerks (as) angry with him.
Last chapter, 37 people voted on the Rue-the-day-o-meter. Their votes averaged 7.369.
Hopefully updates will be a bit faster now, but no guarantees. It's almost time for finals (ominous dun-dun-dun)...
-Corona
