Chapter 14 -- Dawn of the Fred
The geek club remained in sky-high spirits for the next week or so thanks to the Quidditch match -- not the fact that Slytherin had won, but that we had managed to leave our mark upon the game. The whole school was still abuzz about it, and rumors flew like stormtroopers around a ticked-off Wookie about the origins of the enchanted game balls. Some people wondered if they were dark artifacts of some kind; others theorized that they were Dragonkin game equipment (which led to wild speculation as to what the rules of the game must be if it incorporated balls that exploded, fought back, and/or ate players' brooms). Madam Hooch had recaptured the Snitch and had it under close study, while the Quaffles were kept locked away just in case Ethan had a hankering to tamper with them again. The Bludgers... were another story entirely.
Chisulo and I were slightly put out by the fact that we were never able to recapture our Death Star and Unicron models -- they had evaded all attempts at capture and vanished into the night. They were reportedly now roaming wild in the Forbidden Forest, terrorizing the centaur and unicorn populations and giving poor Hagrid more than a few headaches. Sydney, who was one of the few creatures in Hogwarts who ventured out into the forest, tracked the two of us down on a frequent basis to joyfully relate what our model world-killers were up to this time.
"Look on the bright side -- they won't have to thin the trees out when the forest gets too choked," Sydney said with a gleeful grin. "Plus it'll teach kids to not go wandering around out there."
But after awhile talk of the game gave way to talk of another upcoming event -- Halloween, or as some of the more uppity students liked to call it, All Hallow's Eve.
"I hear Hogwarts has a spectacular All Hallow's Eve celebration," Luther told me on the way to Transfiguration class one day, shoving his way between Jacob and myself in order to address me. "Though I wouldn't expect a Yank to appreciate it. You don't know how to properly celebrate on your side of the water -- dressing up in cheap costumes and running from house to house gathering sweets..."
"Hey, don't knock a traditional American Halloween," I shot back. "Absolutely nothing wrong with National Support-Your-Local-Dentist Day, is there?"
He blinked at me, obviously not getting the joke.
Truth be told, I was kinda homesick for our customary Halloween nights back at home. I was really going to miss trolling the neighborhoods with my family, looting every house in every subdivision within a five-mile radius of our house for a load of junk food that would give us the jitters for two weeks solid. I smiled fondly as I recalled last Halloween -- Jefferson dripping with fake blood and too much gray makeup as a zombie, Hillary bundled up in a parka and whining about the cold, Logan encased in Master Chief armor from Halo, myself in a homemade Shaak Ti outfit, Athena and Apollo terrorizing every house we stopped at as Lilo and Stitch, Indy crying the whole way and making his Pikachu makeup run down his face, Egyptus feeling and acting quite regal in her Snow White costume, and Dad helping Matilda waddle along after us (she'd been eight months pregnant with Kilenya at the time). Of course, at the time I'd considered the entire affair noisy and insufferable. Now, though, I thought it was the perfect Halloween and wanted to revisit it...
"HI-YAAAH!"
Jacob and I hastily stepped to the side as Professor Draconis leaped down from a stair landing, wings spread wide and limbs arranged in an exaggerated move from a kung-fu movie. Luther wasn't as quick, and while Ethan would never go so far as to physically strike a student, he did give the kid a good fright by taking a swing and halting his hand barely an inch from his face. He went dead white and squealed like a Jawa caught in the treads of his own sandcrawler.
"Nice reflexes, Woodruff and Wall," he told the two of us. "Macnair, you need to work on that a little, all right? If I'd been a real ninja I could've snapped your neck."
Luther tried to scowl but found his features wouldn't cooperate. "When am I ever going to face a ninja?"
"You'd be surprised, kid. Go change your pants, then head to class. Jake, Em, I'll walk you to class. No telling what's lurking in these hallways."
The two of us followed the Dragonkin down the corridor, snickering a little. It was nice having a teacher on our side, I had to admit.
"I think we need to plan something special for Halloween," I suggested. "I'm sure Hogwarts has a good Halloween party, but let's do something for the geeks too."
"Yeah, like a horror movie marathon," Jacob cut in. "I got Muggle friends; they can help me smuggle in some Friday the Thirteenth films..."
"Kid, you got no taste," Draconis told him. "Trust me, American horror's gone WAAAYYYY downhill since Freddy and Jason happened on the scene. You gotta go the Japanese or British route for anything decent. Now The Ring -- that's quality horror right there."
"The Ring was overrated," I cut in, giving my own two cents. "The Sixth Sense is quality horror."
"Does it have to be horror?" chimed in a new voice, and we turned around to see Jonathan behind us, looking a little pale in the face. "I'm not keen on scary movies."
A tiny head covered in a Mexican-wrestler-style mask thrust itself out of his pocket. "What are you talkin' about? Bring on the horror films! You could use a little Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman Meets the Thing From the Planet of Death..."
"Shut up, Strong Bad," Jonathan told him, poking him back into his pocket.
"Does that movie even exist?" asked Jacob.
"No, Strong Bad's just a freak," I replied.
"We're all freaks in our own way," Ethan replied. "Some just more obviously so than others."
"We'll put the idea to a club vote," I offered. "Let the club decide what we watch. I'm pretty sure that, whatever we decide on, the Room of Requirement will provide it. It's never let us down before."
"Good idea," Jonathan agreed.
"Sounds like a plan," Jacob put in. "I'll tell Clay. We can vote at our next meeting."
"Classtime, kids," Ethan told us, halting in front of McGonagall's classroom. "Study hard, keep your noses clean, and I'll see you in class later."
"Sure thing, Ethan," I told him.
Sydney came streaking around the corner at that moment, yelping and hissing, Jango astride his back and kicking him in the ribs as if to spur him on. Hot on his heels was a rather peeved-looking Davy Jones, perched on the hood of one of Chisulo's Transformer figures in car mode, shaking a crab-claw hand at Jango and shouting words that would have earned me a mouth-soaping session had I uttered them at home. The four of us watched them go, completely unfazed even as they scattered a group of chattering Gryffindors and toppled a suit of armor as they rounded a corner out of sight.
"We've gotta keep them under control somehow," I muttered.
"Are you kidding?" demanded Jonathan. "With those things around, I'm having the best year at Hogwarts I've ever had."
Break...
Halloween dawned foggy and cold -- which was so appropriate for the holiday that I wondered if there were some weather-controlling wizard at Hogwarts whose sole job was to make sure the day's forecast matched the planned activities. The world seemed to simply end twenty feet away every way I looked, the eerie wall of fog blocking off any view of the rest of the world. A few kids ended up getting lost on the way to Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, though they eventually found their way back... a few of the more ornery Slytherins and Gryffindors shrieking hysterically and nursing laser burns or bite marks. Chisulo and I tried to look as innocent as possible, though our Jango and Jazz figures kept cracking up laughing.
I toughed out my classes as best I could, though for the most part no one was trying to absorb much of the lessons anyhow, and the teachers didn't seem too keen on forcing the issue. Everyone was too busy gearing up for the Halloween feast. From the excitement that filled the halls, one would have thought it was Mardi Gras or something.
After the last class I trotted to my dorm to retrieve a few figures who I knew would like to attend the feast. To my surprise, someone was already there -- Charity. She was quite intently studying my Artoo figure, tapping him with a finger and examining him from every angle. Artoo quietly submitted to her scrutiny, beeping softly every now and again, occasionally turning to give her a better look from another angle.
"I think he likes you," I told her.
She jumped and glared at me. "I was just looking."
"I know." I held open the pocket of my robe to let Vader, Maul, and Grievous climb in next to Jango. "I was just saying he must like you. He doesn't normally let people touch him."
Artoo chirruped happily and nuzzled her finger. She jerked it back as if he'd bitten her.
"I'm not into this geek stuff," she insisted, standing and leaving the dorm with a huff. "I'm not a Muggle."
I shrugged and turned to address the rest of the figures. "Meet me in the Room of Requirement after the feast for the movie marathon, all right?"
A collective cheer rose from the figures, and I grinned and followed Charity out. The club had taken a vote and decided on a zombie movie marathon -- Shaun of the Dead, Army of Darkness, and maybe 28 Days Later if we had the time (or any stomach left). I'd never seen a zombie movie before -- unless one counted High School Musical or From Justin To Kelly -- as they were on the list of contraband materials back at home, so this would be a novel experience for me.
Speaking of novels, I snagged Heir to the Empire for reading during the feast, just in case things did get boring.
Smart call there -- I dunno what the other kids saw in the Halloween feast, but personally I found it about as exciting as watching paint dry. True, there were jack-o-lanterns as big as Volkswagons hanging in midair over the tables, live bats swooping down from the ceiling, and so many cobwebs festooning the walls and school banners that it looked like we were hosting a party for the school's spiders as well as the students. But other than that, the only difference from an ordinary Hogwarts dinner (if there was such a thing) was that the faculty felt the need to make us sit through some Halloween-themed musical numbers. I'd suffered through my share of these in grade school, and I really didn't have the urge to sit through another of them, even if they jazzed it up with some magical special effects somehow.
On the plus side, there weren't any of the typically cheesy Halloween songs about witches and ghosts and black cats. On the other hand, though, the selections they did pick were a little creepy. There was a choral number by a group of Hufflepuffs about "Something Wicked This Way Comes," an instrumental and dance number performed by animated skeletons, and an operatic solo by Professor Sinistra that sounded vaguely like Latin, though she hit so many high notes that my eardrums were too raw to care after awhile.
"I dunno about the rest of you, but I'm thinking we should cut out early for the movie," I told the other geeks, who had all conveniently sat together at the Hufflepuff table.
"What?" asked Hans, twisting a finger in his ear as if trying to clear it of Sinistra's caterwauling.
"I said let's cut out early for the movie," I repeated. "Don't think there's a rule saying we have to stay for the entire feast."
Everyone else agreed, so we signaled Fred and George over at the Gryffindor table, fished a nearly-asleep Maul out of the jam and a giggling Jack Sparrow out of the butterbeer (no one had bothered to tell him the stuff was non-alcoholic), ordered Batman to stop harrassing the bats, pried apart the wrestling match/food fight Starscream and Sephiroth had instigated, and left the table. We were almost to the door when Gollum -- sorry, sorry, Filch -- stepped into the doorway to bar our exit.
"And where might you be going?" he demanded suspiciously, a sour look on his face.
"Back to our dorms," Clay informed him. "We're tired and bored and would like to go to bed early..."
"No student in his or her right mind goes to bed early here," Filch hissed.
Grievous said something unrepeatable, earning a glower from the caretaker.
"I didn't teach him that, I swear," I insisted.
"Let them pass, Filch," came a quiet voice behind me. "No student should be forced to attend the feast if they don't wish to."
I recognized that voice despite only having heard it a few times this year, and I whirled in place. Sure enough, Dumbledore had left the staff table and was now standing directly behind Demeter and Melody, both girls shifting nervously at the proximity of the school's headmaster. He was smiling slightly and arching a curious eyebrow at Filch.
"Just doing my job, sir," Filch told him in an oily voice, slinking backward like a wolf confronted with a grizzly or other threat. "Don't want students stirring up mischief, that's all..."
"Not to worry, Filch," Dumbledore assured him. "Professor Draconis will be accompanying these students. He will ensure they return safely to their dormitories."
I noticed that Dumbledore failed to mention exactly when Ethan planned on making sure we reached our dorms, and I had a suspicion that he knew exactly what we were up to... and didn't care in the slightest.
"You can count on me," grinned Ethan, saluting with a click of his heels.
Dumbledore chuckled a little. "Off with you, then." He turned to go, seemed to recall something, and turned toward me, dipping his hand into his pocket. "Oh, Emily, this belongs to you. My apologies for absconding with him, but he did make for stimulating conversation during dinner tonight."
I took my Qui-gon figure back. "Not a problem, Headmaster Dumbledore. Heck, you can borrow him whenever."
"I shall take you up on that. And good night, Miss Wall."
Chisulo snickered a little as Ethan led the geek club and the twins through the corridors.
"What's so funny?" asked Robert.
"Oh, nothing," he replied brightly. "Just that 'Headmaster' has a double meaning for those of us who know our Transformers."
"Spare us for now, let's start the movies," I advised him. "And let's hope the Room of Requirement remembers to stock snacks. I dunno what exactly was in that steak pie they served at dinner, but I ain't eating something that twitches."
"That would've been the Daleks," Ethan replied. "Apparently the house elves down in the kitchens have their own creative ways of dealing with annoying action figures."
I groaned. Maybe I was better off not knowing.
Break...
I drowsily emerged from a weird dream about zombie action figures to hear Melody snoring right in my ear and Ethan muttering something about "Kill all pooftahs" in his sleep. Opening my eyes, I saw a cluster of the action figures -- Luke Skywalker, Jango, Maleficent, Soundwave, Aragorn, and Yu-Gi-Oh -- piled around and on top of Sydney, who in turn was curled up on his master's chest and deeply asleep himself. I was lying on the floor directly beneath a table, I had candy wrappers and a Dalek in my hair, my face was adhering to the floor thanks to a spilled soda, and someone's foot was hanging in my face.
Stang, if this was what a hangover was like, I couldn't wait to turn twenty-one. Judging from the aftermath of our little party, it had been a good one.
I peeled myself off the floor, pushed Jacob's foot aside (why he was sleeping on the table I could only speculate), combed my fingers through my hair to get rid of the garbage and Dalek, and had a good look around. The Room of Requirement looked as if the action figures had re-enacted the Beaches of Normandy or something like that -- snack wrappers, drink containers, pillows, overturned chairs, and bodies big and small littered the floor. The menu screen for Army of Darkness was still shining in the fireplace, and I took a second to turn off the wizard-style DVD player before picking my way over comatose geeks and straightening up a little. A few of the action figures roused and began to help, picking up garbage or scrubbing at sticky spots on the floor. Good to know they were beginning to mature enough to start taking some responsibility...
I paused in the act of righting a table that had been tipped over, doing a mental head count. Jacob, Clay, Melody, Ethan, Chisulo, Daniel, John, Robert, Demeter... I didn't see Hans right away, then caught sight of his slipper-clad feet poking out from behind a couch. Who was missing... Fred and George!
If anyone else (except perhaps Ethan) had been absent, I might have simply decided they'd gone back to their dorms to sleep and gone back to cleanup. But this was the Weasleys we were talking about, and I just knew they had something evil up their sleeves...
The Independence Day poster just to my right suddenly split, a great rift obliterating the image of a giant UFO blasting the White House. I whirled and instinctively raised the pillow I was just picking up as a makeshift shield. Okay, so not the most effective of shields, but it was something, wasn't it?
My stomach lurched as one of the most horrific creatures I'd ever laid eyes on burst from the torn poster, arms extended stiffly before it, shuffling forward as if its knee joints were locked. It looked vaguely human, but a human too far gone to identify as any particular individual -- rotted eye sockets staring blankly ahead, mouth hanging open and drooling discolored slime, gray-tan skin and flesh flaking away from its frame, ragged clothing hanging valiantly on by a few fraying threads. With a gurgling cry it staggered toward me, reaching out to grab me...
And probably would have succeeded had it not stomped on Clay's fingers on the way.
Clay's painful shriek awakened everyone in the room, geek and action figure alike, and everyone reacted in interesting ways. Some groaned sleepily and rubbed their eyes or temples, muttering grouchily; others screamed themselves and grabbed weapons, chairs, or whatever they could find to defend themselves. Sydney shot four feet in the air, scattering the action figures using him as a mattress in all directions, and streaked inside a cabinet. Jango also went airborne, though he activated his jetpack to stay there and drew his guns, taking careful aim at the rotting animated corpse. Ethan's transformation was spectacular -- one second he was sprawled on the floor, drooling and muttering rubbish about a microwave, a steel bowl, and strawberry Jello; the next second he was on his feet in a battle stance, every muscle in his body tensed for combat, wings half-spread to make him look larger than life and an unlikely but deadly-looking weapon clutched in his hands.
"Where'd he get a chain saw?" demanded Jacob, rubbing his head -- Clay's scream had startled him out of slumber so badly he'd fallen off the table.
"Dunno," I replied. "I'd like to know why he's duct-taping it to his hand."
Ethan finished his taping job, then revved the saw and stalked forward, a look of deadly intent in his eyes. The zombie bellowed again and lurched toward the Dark Arts professor.
"It's an Inferi!" howled Melody. "You-Know-Who's supporters must be at Hogwarts!"
"Don't be an idiot," Robert snapped. "No one connected to You-Know-Who would dare set foot here..."
A second zombie burst from a Lord of the Rings poster and staggered toward Ethan. It raised its arms, gave a strangled cry... and sneezed violently.
The first zombie dropped its arms and gave its partner an exasperated look. "Nice going, dimwit."
"It's not like I could control it," the second zombie snapped, rubbing the remains of its nose.
"Fred?" squeaked Hans, creeping out from behind the couch. "George?"
Ethan lowered the chainsaw, grinning. "Hot damn, those are nice costumes, boys!"
"Thanks," the first zombie -- Fred -- said with a grin, peeling patches of fake zombie skin off his face to reveal healthy human skin. "Was a bugger to whip it up, especially in so short a time."
"I thought the colored drool was a nice touch," Jango informed them, settling down on a table.
"Why thanks!" George gushed, pulling off the patches that covered his eyes.
"Good to see Shaun of the Dead and Army of Darkness could inspire you," I told them. "Heck, maybe we can get you to dress up and freak out Snape sometime..."
"Cripes!" yelped Jacob. "Talking of Snape, he's going to wonder why we aren't in our dormitories!"
Ethan clapped his hands to draw attention -- or at least clapped one hand against the casing of the chainsaw. "All students follow me! All action figures get this room in working order again! We have half an hour before your heads of houses start dragging kids out of bed -- if we hurry we can get you to your dorms before then."
We ducked out of the room of requirement and hustled off. Clay, Daniel, Hans, and Robert rushed for the kitchens, led by Syndey; John and Demeter dashed for Ravenclaw Tower while Chisulo and the twins hurried toward Gryffindor Tower. Ethan personally escorted Melody, Jacob, and me down to the dungeons. We saw no sign of Snape, Filch, or the mangy cat, so I figured we were in the clear...
"Going somewhere?"
"Poodoo," I hissed.
"Top o' th' mornin', Snape," Ethan greeted in an exaggerated Irish accent, turning to face the Potions teacher. "Just escortin' this lad an' lassie back to bed, th' lil' buggers..."
"I don't recall seeing them return to their dormitories last night," Snape noted, eyes glittering with malice.
"You must have been looking the wrong way," Jacob said with a quaver in his voice. Poor kid was a lousy liar.
"Come with me, Woodruff and Wall," Snape ordered coldly. "Headmaster Dumbledore wants to talk to you -- and every other student out of their beds last night -- personally." That last was said with a hint of glee, and I felt my guts chill. Surely he wouldn't expel us...
"Why, what's going on?" For the first time since I'd met him, Ethan's voice took on a serious tone.
"There was an attack last night," Snape replied. "An attack on a fellow student. And the culprit was someone obsessed with Muggle culture."