Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But I do own a very comfortable pair of purple pajamas, and an ink-less ballpoint pen. :)
Chapter Eleven:
After his midnight-awakening, Harry had gotten a total of thirty minutes of sleep that night. This, in addition to the rather... nerve-wracking activities they had been up to last night, had somehow (inexplicably) lead to him being annoyingly hyper, and adrenaline-infused. Then again, Harry suspected it was good that he had adrenaline, because he didn't doubt that he would be doing quite a bit of running today, from numerous parties.
He couldn't hold back a rather maniacal laugh, causing the students around him (excepting his fellow Marauders) to scoot away from him, averting their eyes. This, of course, causing him to laugh even harder. Sirius joined in, followed by James. Even Remus couldn't hold back a snicker or two. The combined forces of the evilly-laughing Marauders, and the fact in itself that they were up at normal time (they were usually verging on late to classes) had caused mass panic in the Great Hall. All tables - Slytherin especially - were looking around frantically, and quite a few of them had their wands out.
This, of course, caused Harry to laugh even harder... which in turn increased the fear surrounding them. Finally, after a good three minutes of solid evil laughter, Snape finally spoke. Or yelled, really.
"WOULD YOU FIVE JUST SHUT UP?" All four immediately stopped laughing, turning towards him. Snape gulped, regretting his words.
"No, Snivellius," Harry elbowed Sirius for the mean name, but allowed him to continue. "Snape, I mean." The future-potions professor looked shocked at hearing him take back his "hilarious and witty" pun on his name. "I didn't think you would be mad at us so early in the day... I didn't expect screaming at us until at least first period." Snape's eyes were bulging, obviously fearful, and trying to hide it. Be scared, Snape. Harry thought, still in a strange, sleep-less mood. Be very scared.
The rest of the breakfast was suitably quiet, except from the frequent snickers of the Marauders. The rest of the Hall seemed to be in mourning; once or twice a student would come up to Snape and pat him on the shoulder (to the boy's great disgust) and wish him luck in a tone that implied his impending funeral. Needless to say, this did not help the boy's spirits.
All the students walked quietly and cautiously on their way to class. They looked around every corner, all the while keeping a suspicious eye on whatever Marauder was nearest them. At first, it seemed to be peaceful. There was an unnatural silence around the place, and even footsteps were muffled. Then, everything exploded.
Spells came from everywhere. The first thought was a Death Eater attack - how else would so many people get in here, and why would they be pointing wands at them? But when the spells' affects began to be clear, they realized it was not. It was possibly the only thing that scared them more than Death Eaters. Marauders.
"POTTER!" Lily's screech came flying down the corridor. "WHEN I GET A HOLD OF YOU, YOU'RE GOING TO WISH YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN!" Harry felt a bit sorry for his father.
Everyone (including Harry, James, Sirius, and Remus) had been switched into another body - including teachers. Harry himself had requested Professor Dumbledore, and was currently in the form of the aged wizard, though it was rather strange sight as he was grinning wildly and twirling his long moustache with the air of someone who has commited something terrible/amazing/evil/awesome. This was, needless to say, not something Dumbledore had ever done.
James, to his right, was in the body of Professor McGonagall (this was also his request) though he was holding up the charade better than Harry. Suddenly, the stomping figure of a first-year Slytherin came storming down the corridor. The students made a path before her, even the paintings cringing in sympathy for whoever was at the end of her fury.
"POTTER!" The little girl screeched. She attempted flick her hair across her shoulder, and failed, as the girls' hair was pixie-short. This made it more comical than it already was, but did nothing to diminish the anger of the glowering first year. She stomped up to the body of James - though whose soul filled it was unknown - and looked up at him (or her, possibly) with slitted eyes.
"What did you do!" James looked un-charactaristically scared and cowed. He shifted uncomfortably, then stuttered out,
"U-Uh... I d-d-don't think you have t-the r-right p-p-person, miss..." he trailed off his sentance, and scurried away, shoulders hunched. For the first time since he'd met her, Lily looked completely gobsmacked. (Though it would have been much perferable to see this rare expression on her face.) It hadn't even crossed her mind that he might've changed his own body for another.
She recovered, and whipped around - looking up at all the now-foot-taller-than-her figures behind her. She spoke quietly, yet menacingly with a definite Slytherin glint in her eye. "Where is he?"
She asked. James, in the form of McGonagall, gulped. Then, he managed to recover himself and said in his (well-practiced) strict voice,
"I'll assume that is you, Miss. Evans?" She turned around, eyebrows raised.
"Professor?" She asked hesitantly. "They didn't change teachers?" She looked highly suspiscious for a few seconds, looking McGonagall/James up and down with a critical eye. Then,
"Ah hah!" She was triumphant. "They must think it would be funnier to be able to tell who is the teachers, so they could see their reactions!" James looked completely surprised that she had fallen for it, but didn't correct her, only nodding.
"Good hypothesis, Miss Evans. Headmaster?" The head of Gryffindors' regal head swiveled towards Harry. "What do you think?" Harry swirled his wand, (this went unnoticed under his flowing sleeves) pointing it at his eyes. It took affect, and immediately caused his eyes to twinkle behind his glasses. He tilted his head downwards slightly condecendingly at them, and smiled sagely.
"I have a feeling Miss. Evans may be right, Minerva." Harry almost burst out laughing at, 'Minerva.' It was just weird not calling her either 'Minnie' or 'Professor.' "That does seem the sort of type of thing they would enjoy." He pulled a lemon drop from a hidden pocket in his robe and popped it into his mouth.
His Dumbledore-mannerisms seemed to have convinced the now first-year-ified Lily, because she turned back to James-McGonagall and said,
"Should we find the pranksters themselves, Professor?" James, who was enjoying this very much, nodded swiftly and swirled the heads' long robes as he turned around and headed up the stairwell to the second floor. They disappeared together, leaving Harry alone in the form of the Headmaster.
The students were looking up at him slightly-reverantly, which made him uncomfortable. Luckily, though it was to his great chagrin, he was used to unwanted attention, so he barely spared an off glance as he walked in a very Dumbledore-esque manner towards the Great Hall.
Handily, the crowd parted before him despite the confusion. He reached the Great Hall in record time, and he immediately pointed his wand at his throat and whispered,
"Sonorus." He stepped up to the teachers' platform and began to speak.
"Silence, students!" They quieted for a second, startled, but immediately began to speak again. Harry wasn't all to surprised at this behavior; they were stuck in another person's body, after all. He couldn't blame them.
He withdrew his wand, and flicked it wordlessly at the crowd in front of him, thinking: Silencio.
Normally, he wouldn't use such a large-area Silencing Charm when he could probably command their silence another way, but it was what Dumbledore and his seemingly endless supply of magical energy would have done, and so he did so. He scanned the sea of shifting students before him. Most of them were still examining themselves disbelievingly.
"It seems, that we have had a trick played on us." Harry didn't look angry, in true Dumbledore-esque fashion, and the students muttered. "I have, myself, attempted to end this spell. Under normal circumstances, it would have worked - no doubt. But it seems that a few students were clever enough to create a ward or unique spell of some sort over the school."
"Why aren't you changed, professor?" An unidentifiable voice yelled from the crowd.
"It seems that part of their little prank," there was some angry muttering at the word, 'little,' "was to leave the teachers. Most presumably to be able to see their reactions." Harry couldn't help but notice a few people in the crowd (a Ravenclaw fourth-year, a Slytherin seventh-year, and a Hufflepuff first year, most markedly) attempting to speak, but failing through silencing charms Sirius and Remus had placed. Those will be the changed teachers. He could hardly keep himself from laughing when he saw a petite, blonde second-year (he thought she might have been called something like Josie, or Jean) standing regally, eyes twinkling. He had no doubt that this, despite all appearances, was Dumbledore himself. He also had no doubt that the headmaster was enjoying this.
"What should we do, Professor Dumbledore?" Said a nervous, shy-sounding voice. This voice came, comically, from the body of Antonin Dolohov. Dolohov's body was cowering uncomfortably, and was obviously not used to either his height, nor his natural, cruel demeanor. Harry hoped the real Dolohov could see his body right now, from whoever's body he was currently residing in.
Harry pretended to look thoughtful, though he had decided beforehand what to say in answer to this question.
"Professors McGonagall, Sprout, and Odolphus?" The three professors, his fellow Marauders in disguise, straightened. "Would you come here, please?" None of the three said anything, simply nodding and stepping onto the platform on which Harry was standing. Harry, in another Dumbledore-like (though rather unnecessary) show of magical strength, used wandless magic to create a silencing barrier around them. He had specifically chosen not to use Muffliato, with the creator currently standing in the crowd.
The first-year, feminine Dumbledore looked startled for the first time. Now, she (or he) began to furrow her brow, trying to figure out which of the four was the most likely to have been able to perform that. Harry ripped his eyes away from the Headmaster, and back to the other "teachers."
"Remember," this time, he spoke more in his own speech-style, "though they can't hear us, they can see us. Keep in character." Sirius - Professor Odolphus - nodded, looking (purposely) like an over-excited child. James nodded primly, in a perfect imitation of the strict Transfiguration teacher.
"Sweet." Harry almost cracked up at hearing that word - meant in the slang, of course - coming from the professor's mouth. "So, once we announce the schedule, I go to the Transfiguration classroom-" Remus cut him off, taking care to look stern in Sprout's body.
"We all know, James. I go to the greenhouses, and Sirius goes to Defence. And Harry..." he trailed off uncertainly. "What exactly does Harry do?" What would Harry do? Go up to 'his' office? Harry gulped, though he was able to pass it off to their curious audience as a smile. Crap.
"Why don't I..." he racked his brains. What did Dumbledore do in his spare time? "I could... go to Hogsmeade?" The other three looked at him flatly. "Kidding, kidding..." Mostly.
"Why don't you go outside and pretend to set up for the main events?" This was Sirius, sounding (and acting) well... serious for once. Harry's heart lifted.
"Good idea, Sirius. Okay, now I'm going to remove the silence ward." He waved his hand again almost passively, and there was a barely noticeable sizzling sound as the ward disappeared.
Harry didn't turn to look at "Dumbledore," was sure his (or her) eyes were narrowed, trying to figure him out. Harry/Dumbledore began to speak in the man's usual, grand way.
"We shall begin classes as usual," there was a universal groan, "-through second period." A cheer. "After second period, all students and staff shall come outside to the grounds where we will... meet, shall I say?" Hissing whispers swept the hall, all of the student body speaking into some ear or another.
"Is this understood?" There were mostly murmurs of assent, except for one feminine voice from the front. It appeared to be a tall, dark-haired girl - most likely a 5th or 6th year.
"Professor Dumbledore," she said doubtfully, "which classes should we go to? The classes of our... soul, or body?" This was a good question, and one the four "professors" had been expecting. As they had planned, Remus answered.
"I would prefer you go to the lesson of the body you currently have. Is that correct, Headmaster?" Harry nodded, barely containing a grin. Headmaster. Heh.
"The reason for this is that, respecting your privacy, some of you may not want the body they are currently in to be revealed." There were a few nodds, and sighs of relief; as well as a few groans of annoyance. "However, we do not expect you all to know what classes your... erm... body has for the first two periods, so Professor McGonagall has kindly created schedules.
James waved his wand (he had practiced this many times before) and several large piles of paper appeared on each house table in seven stacks. The students crept over to the papers curiously, searching for their name on the lists and retrieving their schedules.
A minute or two later, all the students were examining their papers - some looking relaxed, others (understandably) stressed. This, however, is part of the fun. Harry thought to himself. It most certainly will be intersting to see how firsties do in seventh year classes, and seventh years in first years. BUAHAHAHAHA!
Had any of the current audience known Occulmency (though is was doubtful they would have been able to break through the combined forces of Harry's shields and Dumbledore's pendant, which had extra protection charmed into it) they would have become very scared.
"Is everything clear now?" Harry asked, once again making his eyes twinkle with a swish of his wand. There were scattered nods. "Excellent!" He clapped his hands once, and the lights brightened. "Now, students, head to your assigned classes. If you have any questions about classroom placement you may come ask me, or Professors McGonagall, Odolphus, or Sprout.
With that, the students - most of whom still looked confused, excited or creeped out - filed slowly out of the Hall towards classes; only a few straggling behind to ask questions. Not for the first time that day, Harry suppressed a grin. However, this time (once the students had left, anyways) he didn't hold back and laughed full out. His laughter, which was strangely cough-like and old sounding, almost made his stop in his tracks. Man, it sure is weird hearing someone else's voice come from my mouth.
He was alone in the Great Hall, and it struck him that this was the first time he had been there without anyone else. Even the ghosts had abandoned it, apparently watching the strangeness unravel. A chill ran up his back. There was an unmistakably foreboding feel to the room. But then again, he reasoned, this is the largest prank the Marauders have ever pulled off. Something is sure to go wrong.
If only he knew how wrong it would go.
...o0O0o...
Harry, having completed the preparations in barely a half an hour, was laughing harder than he had in ages. He was leaning back in the Headmaster's chair in Dumbledore's all-too-familiar office, gazing into the rocky-bottomed pensive. Normally, he wouldn't be using it without permission (the time he had by accident in fourth year didn't count) but he wasn't intruding on privacy so he supposed it didn't count. It was like using someone else's television set. Potentially a bit uncomfortable if they come in, but not enough to get them mad.
He was currently tapping in to the various magically-altered video cameras he had strategically placed in each classroom. In short; the whole school was in complete pandemonium. He was currently watching a Herbology class which contained Dumbledore's feminine form. All the students were even louder than usual, looking at each other curiously. As it was a relatively low-level class, most of the students looked bored - having learned this years ago. However, because of said boredom, many more things were going on.
For one, a brown-haired boy was sending spitballs easily through the room. Sprout/Remus noticed and banished them immediately, though Harry saw that it pained him. But it was good that he was keeping up with appearances. The students, for once, knew that there would be no repercussions for any trouble they made. How could they be in trouble? The teachers wouldn't know who to punish, or even which House to take points from!
Scanning his eyes about the room, he saw people cursing plants (Bat-Bogey Hexes and Selective Enlargement Charms seemed to be the most popular choices), each other (Silencing Charms accompanied by Tickling Hexes, usually) and most everything else they could aim at in the room.
However, magical pranks were by no means the extent of their imagination. Harry noticed someone rigging up a bucket of water over the Greenhouse doorway, and placing Murtsap juice (an orange, oil-textured sap) on the floor around a few other students.
However, this in itself would not usually be worth a laugh like Harry was giving off now. Dumbledore - in all his petite, blonde glory - causing complete havoc and confusion. Being the most acclaimed wizard of the 19th and 20th centuries, he had apparently picked up a few good pranking spells. Harry had previously tried to write a list of their effects (to replicate later) but had long-since had to stop from laughter, and the tears of mirth that were pouring down his cheeks.
An Oblivious Charm had been placed around the room, (though the charm-proof video camera had been spared) making the occupants completely... well... oblivious to what he was doing. Or she?
He had begun with the simple spells. Hair-color change and the like. This in itself raised a few smiles from Harry, but when you bunked with the Marauders (much less when you were a Marauder) you had much higher standards. Then, things started to get interesting. Now, each of the plants was sporting a bright pink, flashing pin attached to a stalk or leaf. Each of the logos were different - some said things like: "Corn = Da' best toothpaste" (An utterly humorless, yet hilarious statement) while others proclaimed such things as, "Thestrals: The messengers of bad luck, or misunderstood, deceased ponies?" This also, was a standout example of Dumbledore's one-of-a-kind humor.
In addition, he had strung Christmas decorations around the room (a few of them including petrified house elves) and charmed each girl's shirt to sing, "Fergilicious" (though the humor was lost on Purebloods and numerous half-bloods) while the boy's sang: "Sexy Back."
This, in accumulation, was one of the strangest sights Harry had ever seen. And that was saying something.
Finally, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from that screen and onto the Transfiguration room. In this room, resided (interestingly) the newly-inhabited bodies of James, Sirius, Remus, and him, in addition to Severus Snape and several other future-Death Eaters.
First of all, he swept the room with his eyes; taking in all the newly-founded habits of the bodies. James was acting generally normal, at least. He looked vaguely bored, though his hand was studiously taking notes seemingly of it's own accord. If Harry had to guess, he would wager it was an older-year Ravenclaw. Sirius, on the other hand, was acting completely out of character. He was sitting nervously, knees crossed and spine erect. He was taking notes attentively, writing in flowing calligraphy-esque writing.
Harry spent quite a while just looking at him and laughing. Peter, also, had been singled out for a special person to switch with. For a second, Harry felt remorseful of their new attitude towards the smallest member of their dorm. Then, he remembered who he was feeling sorry for. The rat. Harry glared uselessly down at the plump, watery-eyed boy as he slapped his butt in James's face. It had been apt to switch Peter with a rather... showy prankster. Currently in said rat's body, Daniel Tauksworth was residing.
Harry had been rather surprised to hear from his dad (that never ceased to give him a chill) about Daniel Tauksworth; or more commonly - Dan. He lead a sort of watered-down version of the Marauders along with Amos Diggory, and Rodrick Boot. All three were Hufflepuffs, and proud of it. Unlike the Marauders, however, they pranked solely to entertain Hogwarts and bring more laughter to it's halls. Laughter that, now a'days, was hard to come by. They focused on untraceable, Muggle-inspired pranks. Harry held a certain respect for them, and felt a bit ashamed when he realized (in comparison) the Marauders were rather immature and self-serving. Or at least, he thought with some pride, they were before I came along.
Harry snorted again at Dan, who by now had changed tactics and was hanging by the crossbeams on the domed ceiling with his (nicely transfigured, Harry noted) orangutan arms. Though the rest of the class couldn't tell (they didn't know James half as well as Harry did, and would have never believed him capable of holding in a laugh) he knew James was trying his very hardest to to burst into a fit of laughter. Instead, the usually-strict professor awarded him ten points to Hufflepuff, for "excellent human-animal transfiguration." This was met with general astonishment, and snorts of disbelief.
After watching the rather uncharacteristic, new habits of Remus (Remus's body was, apparently, being commandeered by a slacker - an amusing sight) and Lily (who housed a character disappointingly similar to herself) Harry forced himself to wave his wand, and change the screen to the next class.
In the Defense Room, Sirius was teaching a class of very confused fourth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors about the dangers of Redcap attacks. He alternated between speaking rather fast, and getting worked up; to an agonizingly lazy and slow monotone. This wasn't too far off the professor's usual character, and though a few students acted a bit suspicious, none voiced any of their doubts of their teacher's identity. It was, apparently, not worth possibly loosing House points. Not, Harry reconsidered, that Sirius would take any. Or that he would know what house to take from.
The entertainment level was diminished in that classroom, as he didn't know any fourth year Ravenclaws or Gryffindors except one - Xenophilius Lovegood. Or, rather, the body of him. Though if Harry had to guess, he personally thought ol' Xeno's soul resided in Theodore Nott's (the first) body, back in Transfiguration. He had been making some comments about Nargles being the cause of this change, and looking generally misty-eyed.
Xenophilius's body, however, seemed completely lost in the lesson. Harry guessed it was inhabited by a second or third year, who had not actually learned what Redcaps were yet. He felt a small stab of pity towards the poor, "innocent" firsties who were no doubt scattered around the school, anxiously trying to understand the class material. Though it most certainly makes it more interesting.
After he finished watching Sirius's questionable teaching skills, Harry flicked around the other classrooms. Charms... Astronomy... Runes... et cetra. These weren't as interesting, the normal teachers were teaching (though they were clueless to the fact that the Marauders were in a few of their comrade's bodies) though he chuckled a few times upon seeing a familar face.
Among them, there was Rita Skeeter, (now shooting spitballs at the back of Trelawny's headscarf, and drawing faces on the crystal balls they were studying) who Harry thought was Tonks (taking studious notes in her first-year body) and Bill Weasley.
Harry sat up in Dumbledore's chair for thirty minutes before he allowed himself to acknowledge the horrible truth... I'm bored.
...o0O0o...
After another long hour of rather annoyed boredom, it was finally time to begin the Main Event. (Harry sternly thought that it deserved capitol letters.) Everything was in place. He was waiting outside, sitting in a relaxed manner - lounging (in a determinedly Dumbledore fashion) back into a cushioned lawn-chair.
Finally, the first students strolled out of the greenhouse - looking excited. It wasn't often things like this happened. Harry/Dumbledore waited about ten more minutes before the whole school was present, and looking amazedly around them. Usually, it would've been a hubbub of noise, but today nobody knew who to talk to.
Some were looking sideways at the bodies of themselves, looking freaked out once again. Still others were still (attempting) to prank. In the space of five minutes, Harry had had at least 25 prank spells, 4 or so muggle pranks, and many other attempts at pranking the white-haired Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Harry, though, didn't blame them a bit - and was rather enjoying dodging their attempts and hearing the unanimous groans when yet another "attack" failed.
When everyone had quieted down, he began to speak: "Students and staff of Hogwarts." Everybody perked up. It was rare that Dumbledore was this formal. Harry could practically see their minds turning over possibilities. "We have gathered here today for the beginning of what I hope will be an annual tradition." He allowed a few seconds for whispers of question to sweep through his audience.
"A festival, of sorts." Harry innerly sighed. This had been a subject of debate between the Marauders (including him.) James and Sirius had wanted this section of the day to be another, more wide-spread prank. Remus and he, however, had voted a festival - hopefully so that it would become a tradition in Hogwarts, and a small break in future years.
This, they speculated, would be a much better way to be known for years to come. They had already achieved the spot of "Worst" (or best, depending on your point of view) "Prank Group," by the teachers - unofficially, of course. This would make them known to people for generations to come! Sirius and James had eventually agreed, though they were still a bit annoyed.
"A festival?" Came a scathing voice from a Hufflepuff's body - an unusual occurance. "Isn't that a muggle thing?" Harry looked slightly repremandingly at the student.
"No, my dear Mr. Goyle, it is not." There were scattered laughs and whispers that one of the Slytherin "powerhouses" had been given a Hufflepuff body. Harry, of course, had known who he was as he they had personally chosen all the bodies of their enemys.
"A festival is not a muggle thing at all, though it is no shame to enjoy muggle things in the first place. A festival is simply a celebration, much like Christmas. Which was, I may add, invented my muggles." A few people whispered to each other darkly and curiously at that.
"Now, we shall begin with-" But he never got any further than that. Because just as he began to explain the day's activities, the unthinkable happened. For a second there was silence. Harry blinked. Is this really happening?
Then, a single girl's scream rent the air. The Death Eaters had arrived.
A/N: sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry I haven't updated much lately! I've been super-busy - reading "Crocodile Tears," (The new Alex Rider book,) doing school work (spanish class is evil...) and working on my other stories. :) If you have any ideas you want to submit, though, they're totally welcome. I've been in a bit of a writer's block here. Any idea-filled reviews would bring another chapter sooner... *nudge nudge*
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~AQUAHINA
