Note: Fic. Y U NO WRITE YOURSELF?
Yeah I have that problem where sometimes I look at this fic and I want desperately to read the next chapter.
Except.
You know.
I haven't written it yet.
So yeah. Sorry for the wait. :B I really am. D: This chapter gave me plenty of difficulty, if that makes you feel better.
Ank thank you so much for the reviews! OuO They fill my soul with sunshine and all that good girly shit.
I own nothing of Homestuck or Harry Potter. I am not making money from this, nor am I intending any copyright infringement.
Chapter 13:
When Hermione awoke the next morning, she rolled over and sleepily glanced at her bedside table. Eyes widening suddenly, she sat up out of her bed and stared at the empty space that had been occupied by the bloody book.
It couldn't have been a dream. There was no way.
Sliding out of her bed, she carefully searched around on the floor, but to no avail. Where could it have gone?
She pawed her hand through the darkness under her bed, and felt her hand brush something glossy. Grabbing it quickly, she withdrew it and discovered it to be a stray photograph from the book. It was a flickering image, but not an extended animation. She froze when she realized what it depicted.
It was a crude digital sketch of Kanaya Maryam. Or at least, she assumed it was. The horns matched, and her skin glowed in the dark backdrop like a lamp.
But that was not what caught her attention and made her feel ill.
Despite the cartoonlike style of the drawing, it somehow chilled her to the heart. Kanaya was gripping a chainsaw in her hands, which buzzed across the page in shivering green letters.
And all over the photograph was an overdose of splashing purple (which she knew must be blood), with the upper torso of another troll flying off into the corner with a look of terror on his face.
Somehow, despite the childish manner of the drawing, Hermione felt convinced that this photograph was documented evidence of something that had occurred in real life.
This was insane. Harry and Ron had been right. The blood on the book should have been enough to tip her off, but something really was wrong. Very wrong. Could the trolls really be as murderous as it seemed? Karkat was pretty vocally violent, and Terezi was definitely an oddball, but Hermione had never really believed that they were dangerous. In her moment of indecision, a memory of Terezi's cackling grin and her reckless, deadly Fiendfyre flashed in her mind. Oh god. The three of them had to do something before something terrible happened to Hogwarts. Her, Harry, and Ron.
She really had to find that book.
Meanwhile, Karkat was still stranded in the room with nothing but a table, a map, and some junk cluttered in his sylladex.
It sounded like that ancient wriggler riddle: A troll stands in a cubical room with nothing but a table, a map, and some junk cluttered in his sylladex. How does he get out?
Answer: He f***in busts a glorious-ass hole in the wall with the table and struts out like a victorious little fart.
Oldest riddle in the book.
Karkat's predicament wouldn't have been particularly troubling for him under most circumstances. He didn't particularly feel the need to go anywhere, and there were some old bottles of Faygo in his sylladex with which he could sustain himself for a while, if it came to a game of patience. Surely the human would leave eventually.
However, he had to take a piss. Real bad. And storing your pee in your sylladex is just f***ing nasty. There were some things that should never considered, much less attempted, and peeing into your sylladex was just begging, no, demanding for a terribly embarrassing and/or disgusting situation to occur.
A mere half-hour ago, he had tried opening the door in the hopes that the crazy man had left, but had been forced to quickly slam the door shut again when the stubborn f***er had attempted to shoulder his way into the room. Talk about having unhealthy obsessions.
Perhaps Karkat could have trolled someone to come and help him. Maybe one of his "friends" would be helpful enough to cause a diversion while he absconded, or intervene in some such way that would allow him to scramble to the nearest load gaper post haste and relieve his poor urine bladder.
But he would not call upon his underlings for a few very legitimate REASONS:
1. They were useless pieces of shit that would not comprehend what an "order" was if an honest-to-f***, simple as hell "order" were to walk up to them, shake their hands, and politely kick them with due force in the most sensitive part of their anatomy.
2. He was much too f***ing badass (read: stubborn) to be bailed out of a predicament by anyone other than himself.
3. He was right then, at that very moment if uncertainty, throwing-the-door-open-as-hard-as-he-could-and-tearing-away-like-a-horrorterror-outta-hell-that-need-to-take-a-leak-right-that-f***ing-instant-or-he-would-explode-screw-the-crazy-human-and-his-mangy-piece-of-cat-I'M NOT GETTING EXPELLED, YOU LITTLE NOOK-NUZZLING GRUB F***ER, ESPECIALLY NOT IF I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT BEING EXPELLED EVEN ENTAILS!
Karkat charged down the hallway towards the stairs (having knocked the human to the floor with the violent swing of the door), powered by the blind, unadulterated rage of someone who really, really needs to pee. But just as he was about to cross the threshold of the stairs and run down the staircase to freedom...
...The mange-ball of catf***ery appeared out of nowhere and tripped him, sending him flying and tumbling down the spiral staircase in a way that in any sane sort of universe would have left him bludgeoned to death, or at the very least, rendered a permanent quadriplegic.
But in this universe, all that would happen is someone, somewhere would make a wholly uncalled for callback to something about how they "WARNED YOU ABOUT THE STAIRS, BRO. I TOLD YOU, DAWG."
By the time Karkat made it to the bottom of the stairwell, he was back on the main floor of the castle, just a stone's throw away from the Great Hall.
He lay there on his back for a few moments, head on the floor and legs splayed up the stairs, and stared at the ceiling with an expression that was something between pain, rage, and long-suffering resignation. Finally, he twitched and rolled over, crawling off the stairs as every external surface of his body ached dully. Karkat knew he would feel far worse in a few hours once shit settled down and sorted out exactly what pain went where. After gingerly getting to his knees, he leaned against the wall to get to his feet, swearing fluently under his breath.
When he looked up, he saw that a gaggle of Slytherin girls were staring at him, faces frozen in various degrees of disbelief and apprehensiveness.
"What the f*** do you think you're ogling, you flock of shitty amusement whores? Do I look like the star of some kind of national ogling festival? Oh hey, I've got an idea; why don't you f*** the hell off and go on a dumbass goose chase for someone that will better appreciate the gaze-rape? F***ing ass-blisters," he snapped.
The girls jumped as one and scurried away.
Feeling marginally better about the day, Karkat reached for his map to find his way to a restroom.
Just then, the grouchy, creepy human from before grabbed him by the back of the robe.
"You're coming with me, you filthy louse," he rasped, brandishing a long-handled broomstick.
If Karkat had exploded right then and there, the autopsy team would have had much difficulty attempting to pin the cause down to either an overflow of fury, or critical urine levels. Life is insane. Also disgusting.
Karkat had not wanted to make a bloody scene in front of the students that were trickling into the Great Hall for breakfast. He may not have been the most tactful troll in existence, but he did at least have enough decency to avoid ripping someone apart in front of young, impressionable eyes. So he had opted to follow along behind the old human, at least until they had passed into an empty corridor where there were no eyewitnesses.
That what when he'd wrenched his cloak out of the man's grubby hands and attempted to run off like a pansy. (No one was there to see, after all.)
But the old human quickly tripped him with the handle of the broom, and Karkat hit the cold stone floor face-first. He lay there for a moment, cheek plastered against the floor again, contemplating what the f*** was wrong with the world. Everything, he finally decided.
"Get up," the man snapped, "I'm taking you to the headmistress."
In response, Karkat rolled over, whipped a pair of sickles out of his Strife Deck, and held them up threateningly in front of him. As threateningly as he could as he lay on his back at the man's feet. Which was still reasonably threatening.
"And I'll have to confiscate those," sneered the man, miraculously unfazed, "No doubt they squirt Stinksap or another messy fluid."
Karkat blinked in disbelief at the human towering over him and brandishing the bushy end of the broom at his face.
"Go on, get up." The man jabbed the broom again at his face with glee.
It was downright f***ing incredible, how stupid this species could be.
Karkat twisted around out of the way and swung his sickle at the man's ankle, cutting through the black robes the human was wearing. A high-pitched scream told him he'd connected, and he quickly pulled his sickle away and rolled over, throwing himself to his feet and running away as fast as he could.
Just as he was about to turn the corner, something collided into his back and his whole body froze, then went limp, hands releasing the sickles and sending them flying as his body fell to the floor, the collision knocking the air out of his respiratory organs suddenly and painfully. Karkat lay on the floor for the third time that morning, seething and gasping and still desperately needing to piss.
Suddenly, one of the sickles he'd dropped caught his eye. Crimson red blood dripped from the blade several feet from his face, dribbling onto the floor.
"Oh my holy f***," he tried to say, but couldn't.
Footsteps echoed down the hall towards him, and a pair of feet soon stopped in his field of vision. He strained his eyes trying to see the person who'd brought him down, but was unable to, on account of his immobile head.
"Would you like you explain to me just what has happened here, Mr. Vantas?" said a cold voice he recognized as the Headmistress'. Sparks hit his face, and he suddenly found his mouth able to move again.
"I need to use the load gaper right now or my urine bladder is going to f***ing explode and take out about half of this bloody psychotic school."
This statement was met with silence.
"Mr. Filch, what is your account of things?" The feet moved away from him and back down the hallway.
"This little monster slashed my ankle, that's what! I found him wandering about after hours, but he locked himself in a room in the seventh floor corridor until morning."
At that particular moment, three sets of footsteps rounded the corner and stopped. Karkat strained his body to move and see who'd arrived, but had no such luck.
"Professor?" asked a voice tentatively. It was Hermione, "What has happ-" she broke off and gasped, apparently having sighted the bloody sickle.
"I'll tell you what f***ing happened!" he snarled, "There I was, trying to find my way to the restroom, and this crazy human sashays up and grabs me by the back of the neck to drag me off to F*** KNOWS WHERE. Excuse me while I exhibit a little self-defense and attempt to get the hell out of the way! I mean wow, my bad, SO GLOBE-F***ING SORRY I WAS MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS."
"Vantas," McGonagall cut in sternly, "Is it true that you were out of bed at night?"
A moment's pause.
"No."
Her tone of voice chilled a few degrees closer to absolute zero. "Are you lying to me?"
"... Why yes, of course, absolutely," he spat.
"Hold on," Ron interrupted, "So does that mean he's lying about lying, or lying about not lying?"
"Mister Weasley. Why don't you and your friends run along to breakfast?" It was clearly not a question.
Three sets of feet passed slowly through Karkat's field of vision and eventually out of earshot.
"Vantas, I am going to unfreeze you. Sit up and talk to me like a civilized person."
Another spell hit him in the back, and he complied with sitting up and acting civilized.
"CAN I F***ING GO NOW?"
"You may not. Now, were you, or were you not wandering about after hours last night?"
He stared into her icy gaze for a few moments before growling, "I was."
"And did you, or did you not deliberately attack and injure Mr. Filch?"
His throat started to feel as though it would never stop vibrating with an ever-hateful snarl.
"Well?" she snapped impatiently.
"I did."
She stared at him as he continued to growl to himself uncontrollably, and then sighed heavily.
Filch chose that moment to reenter the conversation. "With all due respect, Headmistress, I believe this little runt should be expelled for his obviously malicious nature. And his after-hours rule-breaking."
McGonagall ignored him, and stared down at Karkat. After a long pause, she sighed again.
"Stand up, Vantas."
He did, slowly and with great reluctance.
"I will remind you again, as I did on the evening of your arrival here, that you and your friends are only at this school due to my hospitality, and no other reason. Allowing trolls to attend a school for human witches and wizards is a heavily grey legal zone. Do you understand me?"
There was a long pause before Karkat finally realized that this was not a rhetorical question. He nodded slowly.
"Now I will make myself painfully clear. You will not, under any circumstances, attack or maim any other student or staff at this school. Such conduct is simply not tolerated. If you do such a thing again, you will be promptly expelled from this school and will not be welcome to return. Do you understand me?"
He nodded, again.
"To continue attending this school, you must abide by our rules. I do not know what the social norms are for your people, but so long as you live among other Hogwarts students, I expect you to behave like one. I will not stand for this deplorable conduct. Now do you understand me?"
He nodded wordlessly.
She stared at him for a moment, before continuing.
"Your behavior merits two hundred points deducted from Gryffindor. You will also serve detention for Mr. Filch every night after classes for the next month. Understood?"
Karkat nodded.
"Now be on your way."
In the Great Hall:
"Holy Merlin in a bloody broomstick crash!" Ron hollered in surprise, "Look at Gryffindor's points!"
Every single red ruby had fallen out of the upper portion of the Gryffindor hourglass. The Gryffindors immediately began whispering worriedly amongst themselves, while the Slytherins and a few of the other Houses began to jeer from their respective tables.
"That'll be Karkat being punished by McGonagall," Harry said dully.
"Trolls really are violent," Hermione whispered, "Did you see the blood?"
Harry shook his head. "Hermione, I know you were freaked out by that book but you don't have to go-"
Just then, a troll clad in Slytherin robes casually strolled up to the Gryffindor table, her glasses flashing as she scanned the seated students. The whispering died out as she approached.
"Helloooooooo there everyone," she sneered, grinning widely, "Pyrope is still out for the count, is she?"
There was a pause as the Gryffindors in the vicinity glanced at each other waiting for someone to answer. Finally, a Gryffindor third-year piped up, "I think she's still in the hospital wing... Um, if I'm not being to nosy, could I maybe ask you what happened to your wings?"
The rest of the Gryffindors watched carefully as the dialogue unfolded, wary for any of the insanity the troll had displayed the day prior.
But Vriska simply laughed lightly and grinned. "Oh, you silly wriggler, I don't have to have them on all the time, although-" her eyes and grin jerked wide, and a pair of translucent blue wings unfolded behind her in a spectacular pulse of light, "-if you love them so much I don't mind giving you a look."
Despite themselves, a few of the Gryffindors made noises of astonishment and amazement.
"What a show-off," Hermione muttered disapprovingly.
"You've gotta admit they're nice," Harry said, shrugging, "Although I don't really understand why she's the only one of them with wings."
Just then, the end of a cane cracked down on the top of Vriska's head with an audible pop, making her yelp in surprise and twist around to see who was the culprit.
Terezi lowered her cane and leaned on it heavily, eyes bandaged with white gauze, but still grinning widely enough to split her own head in two.
"Get the hell out of my way, Serk-shit!"
Vriska snorted, and switched to a high-pitched, sing-song voice. "Make me, Redglare. Or do your little eyes hurt too baaaaaaaad?"
"Nope!" Terezi laughed, and quickly spun her cane around to punch Vriska in the chest with the dragon-headed end. Vriska was thrown hard and just barely managed to keep her feet with the help of her revving wings, but she still skidded back a good ten feet between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Her face momentarily fell into an ugly snarl, but then smoothed back out into a cold smile as she regained her footing.
At this point, the pair held the attention of the entire Great Hall, save for a few totally ambivalent trolls who continued eating their breakfasts as though nothing out of the ordinary was occurring. Nobody at the staff table seemed eager to get in the middle of the two, having been fully informed of the incident the day prior.
"Gamzee!" Hermione hissed across the table, "You've got to do something!"
Gamzee glanced up at where Vriska and Terezi were now barking insults at each other as though firing machine guns.
"No way sis. I'm not about to all up and ruin their fun."
"Their fun?" whispered every Gryffindor within earshot, never taking their eyes off the two trolls, whose voices were slowly hitching in volume.
Gamzee nodded knowledgeably, "I'd be motherf***ing rude of me to break up such a glorious miracle."
"I can't believe this," Ron said, about ready to collapse into nervous laughter.
"I was right," Hermione muttered, glancing furtively over her shoulder, "They're flirting."
"Trolls are weird," Harry said matter-of-factly, picking out a blueberry muffin from a baked goods basket, "Éclair, Ron?"
"This doesn't bother you? That they consider fighting as the basis for a normal, healthy relationship?" Hermione demanded.
"Well-"
An unearthly, piercing sound that was a cross between a hiss and a scream shot from Vriska's throat, and a moment later the winged troll punched Terezi square in the face, hard enough to knock her to the floor. Professor Flitwick finally rose from the table and started to make his way to the all-out catfight, but someone else was quicker.
Kanaya ran down the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff aisle and shoved Vriska and Terezi apart, yelling their names angrily and snarling like an enormous guard dog. At this, the trolls in the vicinity turned their heads to join the rest of the humans in watching the spectacle. Nepeta, in particular, clapped her hands and giggled in excitement.
"Shit, Leijon. What the hell are you so excited about?" Ron asked.
"I called it! I called it! I called it a million sweeps ago!" she sang.
"Auspitice," Hermione whispered.
And then a voice rang out from the Great Hall entrance. A very loud, very angry voice.
"ALRIGHT YOU BUNCH OF STINKING, SAUCE-SUCKING GRUBF***ERS! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO GET THAT SHIT ON IN PRIVATE, NO KANAYA, I DON'T F***ING CARE IF THEY WERE ABOUT TO RIP EACH OTHER'S VASCULAR PUMPS OUT RIGHT THERE ON THE FLOOR, AND YOU TWO! YOU SHOULD AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO AVOID HAPHAZARDLY DABBLING IN BLACKROM RIGHT IN FRONT OF SEVERAL HUNDRED WRIGGLERS OF A FOREIGN SPECIES, NO, PUT THAT SHIT-EATING GRIN AWAY, TEREZI, I'M NOT IN THE F***ING MOOD."
Cue stunned silence.
One of the teachers opened her mouth, ready to deduct points, but then she noticed the empty Gryffindor hourglass, and closed it again.
Nepeta covered her face with her sleeves. "Aw, Karkat, so impurrlite," she whispered.
Ron had to stuff his fist against his mouth to avoid laughing outright.
Harry and Hermione exchanged a look.
"You know, I'd say it's all part of his charm," Harry began, the corner of his lip twitching.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut it, Potter."
Terezi crawled to her feet and snorted with amusement at the shocked looks on every nearby person's face. She then turned and sniffed in Vriska's direction, and was pleased to smell that her opponent was already showing the beginnings of a black eye. Ah, young hate. Best shit ever. Too bad Kanaya had felt the urge to butt in, as usual. Then again, maybe it would work better that way? More fun scuffles and minimal bloodshed for anyone who might accidentally get in the way.
She then approached the Gryffindor table, and immediately a couple of students stood and moved away to make room for her.
Plopping down happily, she sniffed at the delicious scents on the table and reached for a cherry-filled pastry. Moments later, Karkat stomped up, glowered menacingly at the diminutive first-year boy sitting to her left, and sat down when the kid finally melted with fear and scampered away.
They proceeded to eat breakfast in silence for the next few minutes, until Karkat finally blurted, "So how are your eyes?"
She faced him and grinned. "H3H3H3 F4BULOUS, thanks for asking!"
"So they're fixed?"
"If by 'fixed,' you mean 'blind,' then yes, they're 'fixed.' Can you believe humans have this thing called a 'nurse' who heals anyone with injuries? TH3 N3RV3!"
"You're joking," he said flatly, "Please tell me you're joking."
"Hehehehehe!"
"What did you do to the nurse?" he asked wearily.
Hermione, Ron, Harry, and indeed, anyone who happened to be within earshot, turned bodily in their seats to listen in on the conversation.
"Relax! I told her if she had to bring my sight back, I would have to shoot fires in my face again, and damn anyone if they tried to get in the way."
The humans all turned back to their breakfasts.
"So anyway, my little Nubsy-Wubsy..."
"F*** YOU AND YOUR PIECE-OF-SHIT FACE."
"...you're coming with me to my flying class today! Don't even try to argue, hehehe, I quite simply 1NS1ST. It's right after breakfast. Hehe, it's going to be so much fun!"
Karkat slowly and deliberately spat out the scone that had been in his mouth and stared down the table at Gamzee.
"GAMZEE. HEY, MOTHERF***ING MAKARA! It's your duty as a moirail to bludgeon me to death right here, right now, with that f***ing spoon in your dumbass hand, to save me from the traumatizing and embarrassing DEATH BY MAGICAL BROOMSTICK SHANKING."
Gamzee looked up, alarmed, "Aw, no, bro. Don't ask me to do that! I couldn't hurt my best friend, not motherf***ing ever in a thousand sweeps."
"He's not serious, just ignore him," Harry advised.
"Hehehe, look at that, Nubnooker! Everybody is starting to understand you!"
And Now With Feferi and Tavros in Their After-Breakfast Charms Class Because They Would Want More Screentime if They Had a Say in it:
Hannah Abbot had taken a particular interest in her new classmates, and had thus far proved to be a very helpful guide for Tavros and Feferi. Most of the rest of Hufflepuff House remained politely wary to the trolls, apparently still ignorant to the fact that two of the most mild-mannered and friendly of the species had been sorted into their House. It seemed like all the alarming shenanigans that had happened at the lake and in the Great Hall had only made them more careful around Tavros and Feferi, rather than thankful that the two of them were clearly magnitudes more level-headed than any of the other trolls present.
Humans are weird and illogical that way.
But back to the point: Hannah Abbot, the ever-helpful guide for non-native species in magical castles everywhere.
"Charms? Sure! Let me draw you a little map, hold on..."
She proceeded to scribble a completely illegible maze of blotchy lines onto a napkin, and then pushed it across the table to Feferi and Tavros.
"Watch out for the broom closet on the left after the second turn, it likes to spring open and trap people if they're not paying attention. And that particular doorway at the end of the hall works most days of the week, but if you walk through it on Mondays between four o'clock and seven-thirty, it'll leave you stranded in the dungeons somewhere, but that shouldn't be a problem because you don't have Charms on Mondays, right?"
Tavros nodded dazedly.
"Just follow the dotted line I drew for you, and it should be fine! Flitwick is usually pretty understanding, so if you turn up late today he'll probably let it slide. Anyway, I have to go to my own classes now, good luck!"
And with that she hoisted her bookbag onto her shoulder and waved a cheery farewell.
Feferi looked down at the napkin-map in her hand and squinted at it, adjusting her goggles.
"Yea)(... I think we got this, Tavvy. Let's go!"
"Uh, okay. If you're ready, and everything."
They departed the Great Hall and proceeded on an epic quest to the Charms classroom. After passing the aforementioned menacing broom closet without any trouble, Feferi relaxed a little and attempted to make conversation with Tavros.
"So! Are you going to try out for the )(ufflepuff Quidditch team?" she asked eagerly, "Apparently they need new members this year."
"That would definitely be, uh, something really cool, I mean, if I was good enough to do it. But, I'm not so sure that my flying skills are so good, because, uh, you know, I've only tried flying a little, um, over the summer."
She smiled encouragingly at him before looking down again at the paper napkin held firmly in her hands. "You signed up for flying classes, right? I'm sure you'll do GR-EAT! You should definitely go for it if that's something that you'd like to do!"
"Thanks, for being so nice. And stuff. I'd really love to try, but..."
"What is it?" Feferi asked, looking up from the sloppy napkin-map to examine his face. He was fidgeting with the clasp on the front of his robes, and was biting his lower lip lightly with sharp front teeth.
"Uh, nothing. Nevermind," he replied hurriedly.
Meanwhile, Karkat was being dragged bodily by the collar (for the second time that day) out to the the grounds in Terezi's unrelenting fist, with Nepeta, Gamzee, and the entire class of Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years trailing along behind them. Also Vriska. Right.
"And why in the ever-loving eternity of joyfully disemboweling timevomit did you two sign up for this torture?" he asked of the two trolls behind them, his arms crossed stubbornly even as the hem of his cloak was quickly being worn through from being forcefully pulled across the stone floor.
"Oh, I thought flying sounded like it would be lots of fun!" Nepeta exclaimed.
"Flying is mIrAcLeS, bro," said Gamzee, rather predictably.
Karkat scrunched his eyes shut and reminded himself that he was in the company of utter morons bred by the most selective and discerning tentacles of Paradox Space. Only the most idiotic could survive their hatchlinghood. Nobody intelligent, or otherwise remotely edging away from the OBSCENELY STUPID was spared.
THAT DOESN'T F***ING SAY MUCH ABOUT YOURSELF, SHITHEAD. DON'T YOU AT LEAST HAVE THE THOUGHT CAPACITY TO EXCLUDE YOURSELF FROM THE IDIOT POOL WHEN YOU'RE INSULTING THE WORLD AT LARGE? snipped a part of his think-pan.
It was probably a leftover of his ignoramus past-self. (The naïve, pathetic drop of thirty-minutes-old piss.)
The only thing that could be said about Past Karkat was that at least he had the good fortune of not being Future Karkat.
Good, grub-popping child-of-God, how awful would that be?
At the Same Frame Of Time, Somewhere Else In Europe:
"Don't even f***ing start, you lousy little-"
"Shall we skip the long-winded monologue and pretend that I am now thoroughly insulted by your neatly packaged selection of no doubt painstakingly chosen and disparagingly intended words of vulgarity?" Rose asked in a mocking monotone.
Hold on.
The Rose? As in Rose Lalonde?
Yes. Rose. Obviously.
"Yes, Karkat, I would very much appreciate if you could reign in your anger at this time. Time Is Of The Essence, And Our Friends Are Currently-"
"Actually," Aradia interrupted, "We have all the time we need, thanks to me. And our friends are technically well-off in this time, so there's nothing to worry about."
"OH YEAH, AND MY INTERNALLY HEMORRHAGING BONE BULGE IS ALSO NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, F***ASS!"
Future/Present Kanaya, Rose, and Aradia face-palmed.
Future/Present Karkat continued to rant his internally hemorrhaging bone bulge off.
Uh, yeah. That made a lot of sense. Let's get back to the more familiar CASTLE PLACE somewhere in Great Britain:
"Now, pay close attention to my directions and nobody should get hurt," snapped the flying instructor haughtily.
"OH, F***, DID YOU HEAR THAT GUYS? Boy, do I feel so much f***ing safer now that we're going to have directions to lead us up to our bloody, painful deaths in a calm and orderly fashion!" Karkat yelled from his seated position on the damp grass, his cloak collar still gripped firmly in Terezi's hand.
"Five points from Gryffindor for your atrocious language, Mr. Vantas, and another five for speaking out while I am trying to teach," said Professor Hawk without even glancing at him. "Now..."
"We don't even have any points to begin with," he snorted under his breath.
A pair of first-year Gryffindors glanced at each other, expressions of gleeful realization growing on their faces. The Slytherins, on the other hand, began jeering silently behind the teacher's back, Vriska included. Apparently she did not consider silent taunts and face-pulling to be below her in maturity or dignity.
Professor Hawk continued as though nothing were amiss.
"Now, stand beside your brooms, put your right hand over it, and say 'UP!'."
A chorus of 'UP!' and a single 'F*** YOU!' rang across the courtyard, but few broomsticks responded as desired. Of the brooms that moved at all, Gamzee's floated slightly off the ground and then drifted away down the line, bumping into everyone's knees as it went. Gamzee did nothing to retrieve the broom, merely staring after it with a dazzled grin look on his face. Nepeta's, Terezi's, and Vriska's brooms jolted into their hands as though pulled by a sudden burst of hand-to-broom gravity. (The Slytherin first-year standing beside Vriska spontaneously and inexplicably lost his balance and fell to the grass face-first. How mysterious.)
Karkat's, of course, soared up and struck him squarely in the face with enough force to knock him off his feet.
There was much fuss over the next quarter-hour as the flying instructor aided and praised each student in the class with the handling of their broomsticks.
"Now, on my whistle, kick off into the air, hover, and then touch back down when I blow the whistle again. One... Two... Three!"
SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!
Terezi shot up into the air and pirouetted dramatically, well out of everyone's reach, shrieking excitedly as she went. Not to be outdone, Vriska attempted to take flight, flailed slightly midair, snarled, and revved up her wings to take her to a higher altitude.
Gamzee managed to do a weird sort of flounder-hop into the air, but lost his balance and ended up hanging languidly upside-down from the handle.
Nepeta had bounced delicately into the air, and was hovering dutifully alongside the rest of her successful classmates, her feet and hands balancing her upon the handle of the broom like a cat on a fence.
Karkat, well..
Yeah.
"Mister Vantas. Why are you not following instructions?" the teacher demanded sternly, ignoring the various students who where losing balance and toppling harmless distances through the air and back to the ground. (Not to mention Terezi and Vriska who were darting about overhead as they tried to unseat each other from their broomsticks.)
"Excuse me if I want to keep both feet firmly on the ground where they will suffer the least amount of bodily damage," he said hotly.
The Slytherins started cheering excitedly and waving at Vriska, who had completely ditched her broom as a mode of flight and had started using it as an impromptu bludgeon to try and knock Terezi out of the air. So far, the blind troll was doing and impressive job of dodging each and every jab with cackling glee.
Professor Hawk, miraculously unaware of the battle taking place in the air directly over her head, raised one eyebrow at Karkat, and then blew her whistle. The rest of the students that hadn't yet fallen tumbled to the grass in varying levels of ungracefulness.
"Now, Mister Vantas is going to give us a solo presentation. Everyone watch closely for any mistakes."
"OH FOR THE EVER-LOVING FU-"
"Five points from Gryffindor," she said, before he could finish the next word.
Suffice to say, many more nonexistent Gryffindor points were taken off at the number of expletives that issued from Karkat's mouth in the following set of minutes. He eventually did take his broom into the air when he saw that Terezi was sticking her tongue out at him in a bone-chillingly sinister fashion, and proceeded to careen out of control, making students dive to the ground for cover as he swept around and over them, before flying directly into the wall of the castle as though it were some sort of portal to a sane world where flying broomsticks were merely figments of a psychopath's imagination.
Everyone watched as he slowly slid down the side of the wall and crumbled to the grass.
There were a few tense moment of silence.
And then he twitched, and Terezi started cackling uproariously, and all was well in the world.
Suddenly, In Charms Class:
Tavros glanced up suddenly from his notes. He could have sworn that someone outside had just now screamed an expletive vast enough to penetrate the glass window in the wall to his left. However, no one else in the class seemed to have noticed, being busy with the hands-on part of their instruction, and he soon dismissed it as a conscious sign of subconscious stress resulting from Vriska Serket's arrival to the school.
End of Chapter 13
Note: Er, yeah. I hope that was at least passable? :X Bleh.
Vriska-Terezi-Kanaya is my Auspitice quadrant OT3, because I firmly believe the former two would end up killing each other without someone capable to mediate.
I will start trying to campaign that Death By Magical Broomstick Shanking (DBMBS) be used for any and all idiots.
No, I kid, I kid. I'm a perfectly happy idiot myself, and I wouldn't want to experience DBMBS. Not fun.
Reviewsies? :D