Adrift in a World:
Ch. 13 – Crime and Punishment
Having gone through detentions issued by almost every single teacher at Hogwarts, even the ones he hadn't really known like Vector the Arithmancy teacher and Crawford the Muggle Studies professor, Harry was well versed in each professor's style of intimidation.
For instance, Hagrid used his sheer size to intimidate those who he didn't like, and his like of dangerous or squirmy creatures for those he was mildly annoyed with.
Trelawney, obviously realizing her lack of ability to intimidate anyone, usually sent her victims to Snape, and was thus feared for that reason.
Filch lurked around dark corners, openly expressed his wish to hang students by their thumbs, and usually made troublemakers clean a part of the castle not cleaned in the last twenty years. Most students theorized that this was how Filch was able to keep his job without actually cleaning anything himself.
The Muggles Studies teacher always had a particularly sadistic streak when dealing with purebloods such as Malfoy or Nott that looked down on her for being 'inferior.' After making them clatter their way through a storage room, full of startling gizmos and erratically moving machines that chased wayward students, the detentionees were required to copy out of the good, old-fashioned dictionary.
None of these teachers came anywhere close to the Vaulted Four.
The Heads of Houses.
Snape, of course, intimidated his students within an inch of their lives, made them work with something oozy and usually nameless, and then sent them on their way in tears from his sharply pointed insults.
McGonagall had a second classroom few knew about, as most were not foolish enough to get detention with the Animagus. This second room was a veritable maze. Students were required to transfigure looming aggressive desks and other monstrosities to escape the room and thereby end the detention. All while McGonagall and a couple of guests watched and made various derogatory remarks about spell technique or lack of magical ability. It was like getting two detentions in one, because McGonagall usually invited Snape.
Flitwick... well, no one was quite sure what his detentions were like. The cheery little professor was so well-liked by the student population that few crossed him. However, a couple erring Ravenclaws had earned detentions a few years back.
They never got a detention again.
Professor Sprout was considered the best of the four to get detentions with, because she never gave any, not that that was any consolation. She just looked at the misbehaving student with a look of disappointment that only a true Hufflepuff could give, leaving them feeling guilty for weeks on end. Of course, since this rarely worked on Slytherins (and Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the Weasley twins, when they were feeling particularly reckless), she sent them to McGonagall.
However, all of these detentions, and Harry had been to these and more, were nothing compared to being yelled at by the Order in the Headmaster's office.
"How could you be so STUPID?"
But at least he wasn't the only one.
Harry and Holly shared a glance as the encircling adults glared at them. They had been marched up to Dumbledore's office, amid protests from Harry that he had just saved their lives, Dark spell or no, and Holly's protests that they should know better than to leave a passageway open, with screams and yells issuing forth from it, and not expect her to investigate.
Glad that it was Holly being yelled at this moment rather than himself, Harry turned to glare at Fawkes, who, while looking apologetic, did not look regretful.
The phoenix, only acknowledging that Harry had messed with a spell as dark as creating Inferi, had attacked him, slashing his arm and face until Dumbledore had run over and half-heartedly restrained the bird. Harry assumed that he was half-hearted because he also had issues with Harry's choice of spell.
So Fawkes, after calming down, had twittered at Harry scoldingly and healed his wounds, except for a long scratch on Harry's arm. The phoenix had undoubtedly left that as a reminder to leave Dark spells alone.
Not that Harry had any intention of listening, as he had promptly used a barely legal spell to heal his arm and spite Fawkes.
The phoenix was not amused.
As they all went back through the tunnel, Snape demanding that Harry leave the Chamber open so he could come back and gather potion ingredients, the Order had begun to jump down Harry's throat once more, criticizing his spell use and crude method of getting Fawkes to join them. They had all stopped, though, upon turning a corner and seeing Holly stand there with wide eyes, her arms full of healing supplies and her wand.
"It's not like I went down there with my eyes shut, bouncing off of walls and having forgotten my wand!" Holly protested the accusation of stupidity. "For all I knew, all of you were dying and couldn't call for help!"
"Idiot child," Snape snapped. "As if we would be unable to call for help, and in doing so would be greatly helped with the presence of a teenager."
"Well, MAYBE," Holly shouted back, "if someone had TOLD Rose or me that everyone was GOING TO DISAPPEAR, Rose and I wouldn't have been so frantic looking for everyone!"
There was silence as everyone digested the fact that they had failed to tell anyone else, besides Madam Pomfrey, where they were going.
Harry chuckled. "That's a good point."
He immediately regretted it as the glares refocused on him.
"And YOU, Collins!" Lily now started back on Harry, at which Holly looked relieved. "What were you THINKING? Creating an Inferi? Not only is it illegal, which I'm sure you have no concern over, but magic that Dark begins to twist your soul! That ritual is such an incredibly stupid, foolish thing to do, and..." Lily paused as she noticed Harry watching her with a strange expression on his face. "What?"
"Hmm?" Harry responded. This was certainly a memory to keep track of. His mum was yelling at him for the first time, and it was for creating an Inferi rooster... this could only happen to him.
"What? Oh, please continue. You were yelling at me for killing the Basilisk. I believe insulting Professor Dumbledore to bring Fawkes down and distract the serpent was next on your list." He inwardly grinned as he watched Lily pause uncomfortably as the situation was put like that. "No, really. Please do."
Lily merely crossed her arms and glared at him. Harry glared back, one eyebrow raised. But he gradually felt his confidence slipping as Lily continued to glare steadily.
The other noise in the room fell and an awkward silence warped the room as the two pairs of green eyes continued to glare at each other.
"You think I'm joking, Collins?" Lily asked, her voice harsh and unforgiving. "You continue using Dark Arts like creating Inferi and the Cruciatus Curse, and I will personally turn you in to the Ministry."
Harry flinched at the mention of the Cruciatus, especially at seeing Sirius stand right next to Lily. "Bellatrix Lestrange deserved the Curse put on her, and I deserved to cast it. When something reaches that point, Ministry laws matter very little."
Lily didn't waver. "Nobody deserves that Curse."
Harry thought over that statement. Perhaps it would be true in different circumstances, but certainly not now. "Not even Voldemort?"
She paused, and Harry felt the oddest sensation that he had crossed a line he hadn't even known existed.
"Not even Voldemort," she said as if trying the words in her mouth. "He deserves so much worse."
"And I second that," Harry said softly. "But who will defeat him if we're all afraid to use his tools?"
Harry snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, biting his tongue in the process. His mouth was far too loose today... next thing he knew, he would be going around shaking hands and introducing himself as Harry James Potter.
"Defeat?" Albus mumbled to himself quietly, and only Harry and Remus could hear. "Who...defeat... Mr. Collins," he said at a normal volume, and Harry turned his neck slowly to face him as if hoping beyond hope that Dumbledore didn't actually say anything. "What day did you arrive here, again?"
Harry buried his face in his hands. "I can't remember?" He asked hopefully. Even without uncovering his eyes, Harry could feel Dumbledore's admonishing look and the stares of the surrounding people, who must have been wondering why Harry was trying to hide behind Holly. "The first of August," he said with an air like the end of the world was coming.
"That's what I thought." Albus straightened his spectacles with an air of self-satisfaction in return. Harry glared as Minerva and Severus shared evil looks and smirks. "And you said your birthday was just a couple days before, correct?" Albus continued.
Harry mentally sighed with relief. At least Dumbledore wasn't trying to figure out his real identity. He was just... "Damn it all to hell."
"What was that?" Holly asked sweetly, and Harry glared. She knew exactly what he had said, and most likely knew that he had taken great effort to edit out the rest of it.
"Yes, Headmaster. Thirtieth of July, that's me," Harry answered with false cheer, ignoring the look and choked cough from Minerva that sounded very violent. "You might want to get that cough looked at, Professor."
He paused as Fawkes chirped, in his mind, sadistically at the scene. "What was that, Fawkes? A Death Eater attack, you said? Well, we all had better go off and get that taken care of."
Harry stood and contemplated the benefits of bolting. Sirius and James, obviously knowing what he had in mind, marching towards the door with military precision and blocked it. Harry then half-heartedly eyed the window, but Moody stood in front of it, hitting his wand against his palm as he glared around the room.
"Sit," Dumbledore commanded.
Harry sat.
"Anything you'd like to share, Mr. Collins?"
"That I have a deep and profound desire to make several crude hand gestures at this moment, but am only refraining because Holly is here?"
"Don't stop on my account," Holly commented. "This is getting good."
Harry rolled his eyes, and contemplated his options. He really didn't want to say anything out loud where everyone could hear... But Dumbledore was counting on that, wasn't here? Harry narrowed his eyes.
Of course. Dumbledore was just putting him in the uncomfortable position of pleading the fifth before the Order.
Time to burst his bubble, then.
"I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort."
Everyone froze as Harry's clear statement rang through the office. Harry grinned ecstatically and Dumbledore's eyes bulged momentarily before his face returned to the usual jovial calm. Snape and McGonagall didn't react, as they had all known. But there ended the sea of calm.
"Can you repeat that?" Peter asked hesitantly, and Harry sneered.
"Simple English, Pettigrew. I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort."
"We're screwed." James said and turned to Lily. "What do you think about Canada?"
"Funny." Harry rolled his eyes at James's statement. "Very funny."
"It could be worse--he could have suggested we all become Death Eaters and get it over with," Peter commented without thinking, and Sirius barked with laughter.
Harry paled with rage at that statement, and his hand unconsciously moved towards the scar at the crook of his elbow. The scar caused by Wormtail's ministrations during Voldemort's rebirth.
Minerva must have seen the expression of his face. "That remark was uncalled for, Mr. Pettigrew," she snapped. "Need I remind you that not everyone appreciates such caustic comments?"
Pettigrew obviously thought she was talking about Holly or Lily, and subsided.
"But how can you possibly be the only one who can defeat Voldemort?" Remus asked. "You're only seventeen, and barely that."
"Don't ask me," Harry grumbled. "It's..." Harry surreptitiously glanced at Dumbledore, who shook his head. Harry interpreted that to mean to not say the source of the prophecy. "... what one of the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries said. Somehow he interpreted a time line of the future and said that I had to defeat Voldemort so all these other time lines wouldn't happen."
Harry didn't even blink as he made up the lie, and Dumbledore took careful note of that.
Nothing would have happened if Collins had revealed Sybil as the source of the prophecy, but he had wanted to see how developed Collins' lying abilities were. Apparently, the teen could be a dangerous adversary if so inclined.
"What happened in these time lines?" Lily asked, never one for all the fanciful ideas of time.
"Voldemort won, endless chaos and destruction, Stubby Boardman becoming Minister of Magic. All sorts of horrible things."
"Speaking of all sorts of horrible things," Lily said, glancing at the clock, "it's time to run this little adventure down. It's one o'clock in the morning. Holly, bed."
Harry took this moment to send a look at McGonagall which plainly said "Reason One."
Holly indignantly turned red at being singled out. "But--"
"No buts," James said. "Listen to your mother."
"And you?" Lily raised one eyebrow. "Don't you have work tomorrow?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"No buts," the Prewitt brothers chimed. "Listen to your wife."
"And you two can go home," Lily finished crossing her arms but grinning.
"Aye aye," they chanted, and vanished in a puff of smoke that filled the entire room.
Coughing, Harry glared at the spot the brothers just stood at. "Oh, come on, like none of us saw them use the Floo."
"That's Fabian and Gideon for you," Holly responded before walking out of the office.
(OoO)
Harry knelt down at the spot where Ginny's slowly weakening body had lain in his universe. It was here where he had first realized his own mortality, and known with full realization that death was coming.
It was here where Tom Riddle had revealed himself to be bitter and evil, so much so that his seventeen-year-old self was corrupted beyond saving. Where he had slowly drained tried to drain the life out of one of Harry's closest friends.
Harry's eyes shifted to the spot where he had killed the Basilisk, desperately shoving the sword of Gryffindor into the serpent's mouth, only to be pierced by its own poisonous fangs. Reality dissolved in front of him until he was lost in the memory.
He had felt so unprepared for death, with Riddle cackling over him. So many things left to do...
"Potter!"
Harry snapped out of it, called back to reality after hearing his real name.
"A little assistance is required," Snape snapped, trying to lift the Basilisk's head to skin the area against the stone floor. "I assumed that's why you were down here, but if you want to continue to stare into space..."
Harry watched as Snape once more tried to tug the head off the ground, knowing magic would do no good.
He threw his head back and laughed, the ironic sound echoing off the stone walls. "Wizards," Harry chuckled. "I swear, if Muggles hadn't invented the wheel and fire..."
"Something you would like to share?" The Potions Master bit out.
"Simple machines, Professor," Harry said. When he didn't elicit a response, he continued. "Lever, pulley...any of this sounding familiar?"
Snape growled as Harry refused to assist anymore, and grumpily Conjured a wooden stand that he slid under the Basilisk's head before lengthening the stand's legs. "It wouldn't kill you to help."
"Probably not," Harry agreed, "but it's much more fun to reminisce. Besides, your ingredients, your job."
"I don't remember you taking that attitude while drinking my Dreamless Sleep Potion--"
"--Which doesn't require any Basilisk ingredients."
Snape glared at the interruption. "If you would prefer to spend your time searching for Desgnian Slime Beetles..."
Harry gave up, his memories once more at the back of his mind. He fingered the slip of crumbly parchment in his pocket. 'Hope is gone. Tell JIESS good-bye for me...' he thought wonderingly, deciding to save the mystery for another time.
"Fine, fine," he said, turning to the Basilisk after looking once more at that memorable spot on the ground. "What do you need me to do?"
Snape smirked, and handed Harry along knife. "Start skinning."
Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste before taking the offered knife. Snake skin was horrid to collect, as Harry had found out in numerous detentions. Basilisk skin was sure to be worse.
However, at least this world's Snape didn't know to make sure Harry wasn't cheating by using wandless magic, which, for reasons unknown (or not willingly divulged by Dumbledore), Basilisk skin was powerless against wandless or artifact-less magic.
So Harry started humming as he quickly sliced the skin into eight by four foot chunks, pausing as he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Pretending to once more focus on his work, Harry glanced at the entranceway, nodding to himself in annoyed satisfaction as he saw people duck behind one of the statues of a snake.
All four Marauders, no doubt planning something horrendous. Waiting until Peter once more poked his head from behind the statue to make sure neither Harry nor Snape had noticed them, Harry threw the knife artfully behind his shoulder, hitting the stone just a scant inch to the right of Pettigrew's face.
Harry grinned in satisfaction as Pettigrew, his eyes wide and bulging, ducked behind the statue and hastily had a whispered conference with his companions, the knife still quivering from the force.
"Oops," Harry drawled dryly mocking. "The knife slipped. I guess I need to work on my aim."
Harry's sense of satisfaction grew as the Marauders noiselessly left immediately after that, their mischievous task incomplete. He Summoned his knife, and got a back to work, humming once more.
(OoO)
DEVASTATION ACROSS THE COUNTRY!
'The Dark Mark has been seen over hundreds of houses this
past year alone,' reports Sandra Bolski, special correspondent
of the Daily Prophet. 'The government has yet to put a stop to
the mayhem of this 25-year threat to Wizarding Society. The
latest crime of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a widespread
fire across North Braxton, a Muggle town of northern England.
Over eleven thousand Muggles were pronounced dead, with 5
Ministry Obliviation Teams covering the field. The story is a gas
explosion at a local chemical, some form of Muggle potion, factory.
However, this cover up of thousands of deaths does not blind the
Wizarding public, who are eager to know why the government will
not protect the people, magical and Muggle alike, from You-Know-
Who's threat.
Page 13, the list of Muggle fatalities
Page 7, other cover-ups of the Ministry
Page 3, voters speak against Crouch's inaction'
Harry grimaced at the news. Every article he had found so far was exactly the same. The Ministry was too busy shielding the Wizarding World from the eyes of the Muggles to concentrate on actual defenses. People like this Sandra Bolski, while infinitely better than Rita Skeeter, were far too content just blaming the Ministry.
He threw down the old newspaper in disgust. The government was not supposed to be a shield, just a structure. He couldn't believe the laziness of people, who were not willing to get involved. It was the same way in his old world, and he was very annoyed with it.
Shoving his irritation away, he eyed the stacks of newspaper he had rooted through for information. There were dozens of attacks every year. This Voldemort was far more daring, but perhaps that was because he had not met a threat more than Dumbledore. There were thousands of eyewitness accounts of losing family that Harry had found his eyes prickling uncomfortably throughout the last hour.
Fortunately, however, Voldemort had yet to become a world-wide problem. The Dark wizard so far just concentrating on Great Britain, if that could be seen as a good thing.
Sighing at the sheer weight of the problem, Harry began to put the newspapers back into their slots. Merlin forbid Madam Pince coming in to see newspaper helter-skelter across the surface of the table.
Holding the last few newspapers in his hand, Harry froze when he heard a faint whisper behind him.
Ears straining to hear, Harry continued to put up the newspapers, not alerting whoever was making that sound. All he heard was a faint sound, barely audible, until he heard a giggle.
He gave up all pretense of ignoring the sound, and whirled around to find no one there. Pulling out his wand, Harry stepped into the shadows of a nearby bookcase.
'No one was in here when I came in,' he thought to himself, 'and I didn't hear or see anyone since then . . .'
The giggle sounded again, nearly at his elbow.
But no one was there.
'Okay, that didn't sound like Myrtle,' Harry thought, going through all the possibilities. 'It's not Peeves, or any of the other ghosts. Unless someone put an Invisibility Charm on themselves to heckle me . . .'
Harry mentally smirked. As much as it hurt to think in this line, all the Marauders were here. He was stupid not to expect either retaliation for a few days ago or a prank to test him.
Of course, he would have thought that the warning with the knife would have taught them that it was very, very hard to sneak up on him.
'And,' Harry thought, 'don't these people ever have to go to work?'
Casting an Invisibility Charm on himself, Harry cast a silent Seeking spell, which would allow him to see all the magical signatures in the general vicinity. At first, he didn't see anyone, but he turned to look at the door and saw two shapes huddled behind Madam Pince's desk.
One seemed very familiar, similar to Harry's own, but older and less Dark, less haunted. 'Most likely James'.
The other one wasn't hard to figure out after that. A spectral shape of a Grim flowed in and out of the second's signature. Sirius.
Feeling particularly snarky after being watched while he was reading newspapers, Harry decided to frighten the pranksters a little bit. 'They would have to try harder than that...'
"Who could that be?" Harry wondered out loud, his voice taking on the slippery tone Snape always used in class.
"There was no one here but me, at least not anymore," Harry said ponderingly, becoming visible again. "So could this prank be by the Marauders four?"
He paused as the two crouching forms shifted uneasily.
"No, the giggles and steps are too far-between and few," James and Sirius relaxed, thinking they wouldn't be caught. "So could it be the Marauders two?"
With that last improvised verse, Harry quickly flicked his wand in their direction, forcing the two to stand.
They did so, shifting guiltily, looking as they no doubt had during their school days.
"Really," Harry said, smirking slightly. "Was this amateurish act necessary?"
James prodded Sirius forward. Sirius turned to glare at his friend, but stepped forward hesitantly anyway.
"Well, you see, Collins," Sirius began, and Harry looked at him forbiddingly. The dog Animagus gulped and started again. "It's been a short-standing tradition for newcomers to the castle to be pranked by the Marauders, and, well--"
"This is the best you could come up with?" Harry interrupted, making the two freeze and look at him oddly. "I heard a lot about the Marauders from my world." Harry heaved a fake sigh of disappoint. "I guess I just expected you to have the same quality of pranks. I guess not."
"Now see here, Collins," James, who had burst into the conversation, stopped when he saw Collins looking at him with amusement, and couldn't stop a grin of his own. "That was low."
"Yes, yes it was," Harry agreed. "But I still think you need to lay off the Muggle horror movies."
"You got that from a Muggle movie?" Sirius demanded of James, looking incredulously at him. "Honestly, Prongs, no wonder it didn't work."
Harry watched Sirius silently as James, his father, tried to defend his actions. This one was completely different from the Sirius Harry had known. The one of this universe was more carefree, and didn't have the haunted look. He also didn't seem to have the work-to-the-bone complex that the Harry's Sirius had when recreating 12 Grimmauld Place and talking about Voldemort. 'Perhaps the difference will make not slipping up easier.' Harry hoped, and went back to watching the two 38-year-olds bicker like second years.
"Well, I'm going to leave you two to think of better pranks," Harry said, walking out of the library. "And I'd watch out when you open the door."
The last bit was said with such a mischievous look that the Marauders were very hesitant to leave the library.
(OoO)
Lily Potter was walking determinedly to the Hogwarts Library, a scowl etched onto her face.
"I'm going to murder him!" She grumbled under her breath. "It's one thing to terrorize the students every year, but to burn my class plans! Especially after just creating new ones! We should have let that Basilisk at him!"
The banishment of Peeves was the only issue she and Filch agreed upon, but it was enough middle ground for them to swap several of Peeves' horror stories when they met in the hallways. 'This, however,' she thought, 'is the final straw.'
She wrenched open the Library door, still muttering about poltergeists and horrible demises. She stopped upon seeing her husband and Sirius wielding a seven foot stick with a hook on one end.
"What are you two trying to do?" She demanded impatiently, in no mood for the usual Marauder shenanigans.
It was James who was prodded forward this time.
"Well, Sirius and I were testing Collins, seeing how far we could prank him. He caught on quickly, and told us to work on it."
Here a glint of determination crossed both James' and Sirius' faces, almost causing Lily to wince at what Chris Collins had gotten himself into. "Then he warned us about opening the door. He obviously did something to it."
Lily looked again at the hook the two had obviously been trying to use to open the door. Then she glanced at the door. She had an inherent ability to sense traces of charms ever since James had turned her hair blue in third year, but saw nothing unusual on the door.
Inwardly cheering for Collins' simple yet effective trick, she stalked to the door and yanked it.
James and Sirius were running forward as if to stop her, but paused when nothing happened.
Looks of frustration appeared on the two Marauders faces, as Lily broke down and started laughing, pointing her finger at the two.
"Collins got you!" She breathed, her voice filled with mirth. "He pranked without doing anything! I daresay you might have met your match!"
Looking insulted, Sirius and James puffed themselves up. "We certainly have not! No one can beat the Marauders!" They ran for the Charms section of the Library, already having hasty conferences about what to do to their new rival.
'It seems that they are starting to accept Collins,' Lily thought, rolling her eyes, and ignoring them, went to work on her lesson plans, starting up her thoughts over the death of Peeves.
None of the three noticed Holly, hidden under her father's Invisibility Cloak, enter and pick up a video camera hidden among the newspapers.
Holly hustled down the corridors of Hogwarts, opened the passage behind the clock portrait, and burst into her room.
She knew that Chris Collins had been in the library, comparing the news of this world to his own, and Holly thought that this was one of the best opportunities to find out those comparisons as well.
She pressed play, hunched over the camera on her bed, and watched as the screen turned a fuzzy blue, than focused on Collins.
She watched as he walked up to the section of yearbooks in the library, and focused the screen to get a better view of the titles. The first one was one from six years ago, his first year.
He flipped within the pages, pausing here and there, but didn't say anything. Frustrated, Holly pointed her wand at the screen and uttered, "Decaroe" to make the book transparent, but as soon as the spell activated, he put the book back, a bittersweet look on his face.
"Nice to know it was a peaceful year," Collins muttered, making Holly wonder what he meant. 'Nothing specific happened at the school,' she thought to herself, 'but Voldemort was still attacking Britain. That year was far from peaceful.'
She watched as he began skimming the newspapers, noting various comments and facial expressions. She had seen her dad and Sirius creep into the library when Collins was too absorbed in an article, and laughed quietly as they were efficiently captured.
Collins left and she paid special attention to the conversation that followed.
"Well, did he pass the test?" her dad asked, looking unsure.
"He didn't blow up like Snape would, so he has some sense of humor. He also challenged us, showing that he is a Gryffindor," Sirius answered, looking more serious than usual. "So he passed the Marauder test. But as for being trusted, I don't know. He's kind of creepy."
"Exactly," her dad agreed. "Did you see how he knew exactly where we were, and how many of us were pranking him? Not to mention not even stopping when he heard the giggles-- even Moody's not that good!"
"He's creepy, yeah, and Moony said not to trust him. I mean, he had all those traces of Dark Magic, using the Curse on my," she saw Sirius grimace here, "cousin. I agree that he shouldn't be trusted around Rose or Holly, but really, that's no reason not to prank him."
"Too true, Padfoot. Wish we knew more about him though."
"Well, we can just incorporate that into whatever prank we'll get him with next. Now, however, we need to figure out what he did to the door."
"Did you see him cast anything? I didn't." Her dad said, looking at the door nervously.
"Nope. But I still think he did something to it. Maybe if we fashion a hook out of this . . ."
Holly turned off the camera and sighed. That endeavor wasn't especially helpful, but she knew some more details. If Collins used the Cruciatus Curse on Sirius' cousin from another universe, that meant Narcissa Malfoy, Andromeda Tonks, or Bellatrix Lestrange.
She automatically disregarded Tonks' mum. She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and Collins was too comfortable around Tonks to have cursed her mother. That left Malfoy and Lestrange, both likely candidates. But from various snooping, Holly knew that Malfoy was rarely involved in Death Eater things, mostly leeching money off her husband and helping present the Malfoy name with a presentable, attractive face. Lestrange, on the other hand, was very likely. She was a full-fledged Death Eater, if her past eavesdropping was any indication, and was crazy to boot.
Mind made up that Bellatrix Lestrange was the one who had ticked off Collins, she wrote down facts gathered from the tape into her journal, charming it so no one could read it without her password and magical signature. She had found the spell in the Restricted Section, and it was of questionable legality. The person attempting to read the journal would suffer minor to medium curses, depending on their intentions and determination. Holly decided to use the spell anyway. She wasn't supposed to know Order information, but that didn't mean she was going to be careless with it.
Making sure the journal was locked and sealed. She erased the tape, knowing that no one could view what she just had. Standing and sliding the camera into a secret compartment in the wall, she went off to investigate the seventh floor, determined to know more about Collin's Room of Requirement.
(OoO)
"Damn it," Harry said, a fork in his left hand as he scribbled furiously on parchment with his right.
He had spent the entire morning helping Snape gather potion ingredients, and the rest of the afternoon finishing his research of this world's past. After trapping the two Marauders in the Library, Harry had traveled the dusty path to Hogwarts' archives, usually only frequented by lost first years and ghosts. There he had been searching the records for any student who had vanished from Hogwarts in the fifties or sixties, but had found no one.
It was about that time that Peeves had shown up, hollering bloody murder about Harry telling all his secrets. Harry, in no mood to deal with the more irritating than usual specter, had pointed his wand at the poltergeist and told him point-blank to go annoy someone else or suffer the consequences.
However, barely an hour after Peeves had swooped away in fear and disgust, Holly and Rose had shown up, fussing and scolding at Harry for not eating properly, and they had promptly pushed, threatened, and yelled Harry into the Great Hall, where he was now eating and working on lesson plans.
So far he had managed to avoid any threats, lectures, or Dumbledorian discussions, but Harry didn't think his luck would hold forever.
"That plan won't work for fourth years," he muttered to himself. "Unless I can recruit those books always running around, there'd be no way to catch them off guard, especially if they saw me. And Glamours don't work very well..."
Not even noticing as he did so, Harry pushed his plate of food away and dragged the parchment closer, not seeing the Potter family, who was sitting somewhat close by, start at the noise.
Lily frowned as she watched Collins mutter to himself and completely forget about eating. "That can't be healthy," she pointed out to her husband, and glared as he rolled his eyes in response. "I'm serious, James. Have you ever seen Collins eat?"
James waved his fork around in the air nonchalantly. "So he goes and eats in the kitchens," he answered. "What's your point?"
Lily's frown deepened and she kicked James in the shin.
"OW!" James exclaimed, and then quieted at a look. "Ow! Damn, Lily, you have pointy shoes!" He glanced at Collins again. "Okay, Lily. Yes, he doesn't eat, that you know of. He obviously does eat, or he would have collapsed already, especially with using so much magic."
They both grimaced at the remembrance of Collins created an Inferi, but Lily continued. "I still don't think he is. He was rail thin after the Death Eaters got through with him in his world, and he still doesn't look any better. Don't they just keep prisoners alive on nutrition charms?"
Holly, who had been listening to her parents' discussion with growing suspicion, looked askance at Collins, and made her decision. She had only seen him eat once, and considering she was Hogwarts' residential spy, besides Snape, of course, that wasn't a good thing. Picking up her plate, she walked over to Collins able, where he was still muttering over the parchment.
"What? No—Holly, get back here!" Lily and James hissed, but it was too late.
"Hello, Collins," Holly proclaimed as she sat down on a seat across from Harry.
"Holly," Harry nodded in return, most of his attention focused on his scribblings.
"I think you're a wuss," she said nonchalantly, and mentally nodded in satisfaction as Harry started and looked in surprise.
"Um...thanks?" Harry responded dryly, having no idea what Holly was up to.
"To give you a chance at protecting your honor," Holly continued loudly, and everyone looked up in curiosity, "I will now challenge you to a pie-eating contest."
Harry's stomach lurched at the thought, but he just rolled his eyes. "I'm busy, Holly. Perhaps I'll save my honor another time."
'He's good,' Holly thought silently, marveling at his acting abilities. 'Too bad he has to act mature in order to have any chance of joining the Order and fighting Voldemort, since he's just seventeen years old.'
She pointed her wand at the parchment, and magically rolled it up, sticking it in between the pages of her book. "Well, now you're not."
Harry glared at her in annoyance, but Holly put on her pathetic I'm-bored-play-with-me face that she had perfected over the years, and he crumbled like Ron's bravado in front of Aragog.
"Fine," he conceded, mentally cursing at what he had gotten himself into. He knew perfectly well that Holly was conning him with that face for reasons as known, but Harry didn't have it in him to say no to his unknowingly sister. "What is it that you want?"
"It's a challenge that fourth years have to face to graduate from that year. I'm guessing that by your facial expression, you didn't have to?" Holly explained, lying through her teeth.
"No, I can't say I've ever been challenged to a pie-eating contest," Harry said slowly, doubtfully. "And I'm older than a fourth year, so I'm perfectly happy with that tradition passing me by."
"Too bad."
And as if by magic, 'Fancy that,' Harry thought, two appeared.
"This is really immature," Harry said sternly, trying to pull away as his stomach protested from close proximity to food.
"So is locking my dad and Sirius in the Library," Holly retorted.
"I didn't lock it, and they should have known to check for spells, grown primates that they appear to be," Harry grumbled without any real heat. Far be it for him to deny his sister anything, and she seemed to put some stock in this strange tradition. From McGonagall's pinched and glaring smile, she too remembered that he would hardly refuse Holly for reasons that she and Snape alone knew.
'She really needs to get over this,' Harry thought ruefully. 'It's not like I'm her evil, Dark, demented child.'
Shivering and scolding himself for such a thought, which was sufficient enough to make anyone want to go Dark, he focused back on Holly, who had shoved a fork into his hand. "Is this really necessary?"
"Why?" Holly asked mockingly. "Are you afraid of something?"
She stepped backwards from the penetrating look he sent. It communicated quite fiercely that if Collins was going to afraid of anything, it certainly wouldn't be anything so childish as this.
"Not at all," Harry said pleasantly. "So how does this work?"
Holly plopped herself down in the seat. "The one who finishes the pie first wins," she declared confidently.
"Wins what?" Harry narrowed his eyes.
"That's for the winner to decide," she answered. "Ready?...Go!"
She started eating at a slightly faster pace then she usually did, most of her attention focused on Harry. To her horror, he was going faster than herself, apparently not feeling any side-effects at all from eating.
A feeling of amused dread filled as she realized that there was no way possible for her to win.
Until she saw pain begin to fill her companion's eyes and he slowed down dramatically, not noticing as Holly did so herself as well.
Harry recoiled as his stomach violently protested the first food it had had in over a month. Tightening his jaw, he dropped his fork and wrapped an arm around his stomach, feeling like his insides were twisting as if they had been transfigured into snakes.
His other hand clenched the table, trembling under the pressure his muscles were exerting. Knowing he was unable to defend himself, Harry's Animagus side came out, the fingernails of the hand on the table lengthening raggedly, his eyes flashing yellow and his senses sharpened.
The pain in his stomach over-riding his constant hiding of pain from others, Harry gave up any semblance of being fine and ran for the double doors that lead to the Entrance Hall.
He heard someone running after him, and, not realizing it could be Holly, the werewolf part of his mind rose once more and he snarled warningly, his teeth elongating to underline the threat.
But the momentary slip in concentration made him fall to his knees and lost the battle of controlling his stomach. Harry heaved and tasted familiar coppery blood on his lips, closing his eyes as his stomach continued to twist and pull.
Feeling more than hearing people come stand around him, Harry whispered, "Stay away!"
Some of them apparently heard him, and no one responded.
"No, Collins. You need to go see Ma--"
But he wasn't listening. Caught up in recent memories of fear and pain, Harry heard the voice of the rat Animagus, though not what it was saying, and instinctively considered it a threat.
A gust of uncontrollable magic swirled around Harry and headed towards Pettigrew, slamming him against the stone wall.
"Stay away," he whispered again, and jerked as his stomach twisted again.
Holly watched the scene with wide eyes. What had she done? She hadn't thought about what she was doing at all—and now look what was happening. Holly had seen the wild look in Collins' eyes as Peter had spoken, and wondered if the resulting magical attack was because Peter was the first to speak, or because it was Peter himself.
Luckily, though, Peter had suffered no ill effects from slamming into the wall, besides a new wariness when he approached the group again. "Should someone get Dumbledore? Or Poppy?"
He got no answer, as Harry arched his back and screamed, his arms still clenched around his stomach.
The curtains on the Great Hall windows twisted and warped, making daylight rapidly enter and leave as if in sympathy with Harry's plight.
They all winced at the yells of pain, but were still clueless. None of them had studied medicine, and none of them had ever heard of anything like this happening.
James turned as he heard someone sniffing behind, and saw Holly watching Collins, tears pouring down her face. "What did I do?" She whispered.
James walked over to his two children and pushed them out of the Great Hall, whispering in Holly's ear as they went, making sure neither she nor Rose looked back.
Lily bit her lip as the teenager continued to cry out in pain. There was nothing she could do to help him. Only Madam Pomfrey could.
"Stupefy."
(OoO)
Lucius Malfoy tapped his quill against the old oaken wood of his desk. His Master had given him a task he loathed to do, yet he could hardly decline.
Bellatrix Black had informed the Dark Lord of Chris Collins, and her suspicions that he would jump at the chance to join the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord had not been fond of the idea until Bellatrix had confessed to looting through the teen's mind, reading nothing but a true contempt for Muggle-lovers and Mudbloods.
Now he, Lucius, had been given the task of inviting the whelp. Pushing aside his contempt for the Canadian pureblood, he began to write.
'Mr. Chris Collins,
Congratulations on maintaining high taste and wizarding dignity among current times, where the common and misguided rule. As such, you have been invited to meet with forces attempting to correct this fallacy under the rule of our Lord, Lord Voldemort. If you should choose to accept this high honor...
(OoO)