Year 7
Chapter 49: The Top Nut Part 2
New chapter by Steve2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything related to it.
{-49-}
To recap…
The dark forces were attacking the biggest and bestest magical school in the world (Dumbledore's opinion, not Harry's) while Harry was taking a nap on his girlfriend's lap. He woke up, saw what was going on, and knew he had to do something before he got blamed for the mess that was going to ensue (like that hadn't happened before). So Harry approaches the robe-wearing weirdos, knocks a few out and gains the rest of their attention. He then goes to the front of the line and sticks it to the man… er… sticks an umbrella in the eye of the top loser. Momentarily distracted, Harry then makes a run for it through the crack in the castle door the nut jobs had opened. His goal was for the top nut to chase him so the rest of the gang would not know what to do and with that in mind, they would just go back to their rooms. Or at worst, go to the lunchroom and get some meds mixed in their pudding to put them to sleep.
Harry made it through the castle door crack, the insane psycho clown hot on his heels, and the rest of the dunderheads stuck outside once the crack had been sealed with the flabby bodies of several pureblood "wizards" pushing themselves into the crack at the same time until they got good and stuck. So this is the part of the story that the narrator would then rush to see what was going on with the hero.
However…
Let's take a moment to see what was going on with the dark forces attacking the upstanding school, shall we?
Minutes earlier a very interesting thing happened, something that Harry had no idea would happen. Actually, Harry would never, ever, ever (to the tenth power) think this would happen, because, let's face it, Harry didn't believe in magic.
That interesting thing happened moments after Harry threw Mr. Rock at the advancing doggy that wouldn't mind his commands to sit. Harry's attention was immediately taken into a new direction and he never saw what happened next. If he had watched his throw of Mr. Rock, he would have certainly thought something was up with this group.
Harry threw Mr. Rock at Fenrir Greyback (not that Harry knew of any doggies with two names, but with this crowd, anything was possible) and turned away. Mr. Rock went on her way towards the advancing werewolf. The werewolf was amazed that someone went on the offensive against him. True, it was a rock and wouldn't hurt him, but in virtually every instance he went up against someone in his werewolf form, those he was against turned and fled in terror. This boy didn't do that. Instead, he threw a rock at him.
Chuckling, the mangy werewolf thought of the many ways he was going to rip this boy apart, no matter what that dark clown wanted to do to that boy. So enraptured in that stray thought that the werewolf did not bat away the projectile headed his way. Not that it would have done any good.
Mr. Rock scrunched up her magical might and, while small to the appearance of everyone in the world at first glance, she carried a mighty punch. A mighty punch that was almost like having a boulder weighing roughly 10,000 kilos falling from a kilometer up landing on someone. And Mr. Rock knew where she could inflict the most pain on that rotten werewolf that threatened her Harry!
Mr. Rock was thrown at the werewolf. She had the distance, and was on a course to smack the doggy in the head, but then changed course as she really didn't like that werewolf. And carrying her 10,000 kilo weight, she landed on Greyback's foot.
Greyback didn't really know what happened. One second he was happy as vicious thought after vicious thought came to mind of him ripping the boy to shreds, and the next thing he knew something wasn't right. And then the pain hit.
"Whine! Whine, whine, whine! WHINE!"
The other werewolves were confused. There was their pack leader, standing upright, with a small rock on his foot. But he appeared to be in pain. But the rock was still on the foot and not moving. And the pack leader was trying to jump around but the foot with the rock wouldn't move. It was as if it were stuck in that spot.
Why would their leader cry over a small rock? The werewolves huddled to discuss this amongst themselves.
"WHINE! WHINE! WHIIIIINNNNNEEEE!"
And while the werewolves were discussing their need for a new leader who wouldn't fall apart with a small rock on his foot, the dementors were also having a conversation. Or as much as a conversation they could have with all that whining racket. It went something like this:
"Hey Paul," one started.
"Yeah John?" another answered.
"I don't think Mr. Rock likes that werewolf."
"I do say you are onto something, old bean."
"What say we suck out his soul since she still scares me?"
"Capital idea! Hey, George! Pete! Wringo! C'mere!"
"You fellas okay? That whining is getting on my nerves."
"I'll say," answered the last to join the dementor huddle.
"Guys, John here has an absolutely smashing idea."
"Does it involve smashing that werewolf over the head to shut it up?"
"Almost. John thinks it would be a good idea to curry favor with Mr. Rock by draining the life out of that werewolf and his pack."
"Paul, that's not what I said."
"Eh, it's what you meant, isn't it?"
"You know, it really is. She really scare me."
Wringo supplied, "Then why stop with the werewolves? I think those Trolls may be a little tasty."
"And I've never tried those large spiders over there…" entered Pete. "I wonder what they taste like."
"Here's your chance to find out."
"I'm in. Everyone else?" They all nodded.
"It's lunch time! And… BREAK!" yelled Paul the dementor to his brethren. They broke the huddle and started towards their targets.
"Hey, Saul," wondered one wizard to another DE.
"Yeah? Bloody! We need to get this ruddy mask redesigned. I can't see anything!"
"Take it off then. You need to see this."
"See what?"
"See the dementors tearing into the werewolves," the first DE mentioned, the fear dripping in his voice.
"WHINE! WHINE! WHIIIIINNNNNEEEE!" the alpha male tried to dislodge Mr. Rock yet again as the werewolves around him dropped to the ground.
Interesting side note: a werewolf drained by a dementor during a full moon actually drains the lycanthropy from the beastie, and reverts them back to human mode as to what they were before being bitten. Their curse was ended. This was confirmed by healers at the wizarding hospital several days after the Hogwarts siege, and soon enough werewolves were coming across the world to the UK to be dementored (as it was soon called). Not that they were looking forward to French-kissing an unholy creepy thingy, but a dare's a dare, even if it was a "triple-dog dare ya!"
You don't want to know how the dementoring of the werewolves gave the brethren gas. Azkaban would never be the same and was soon feared for a different reason.
{-49-}
As for Harry…
"Gasp, gasp, wheeze, wheeze, gasp, gasp," loudly inhaled and exhaled the hero of this story as he took one agonizing step after another up the Astronomy tower. Just a few more steps and he'd be at the top.
"Gasp, gasp, wheeze, wheeze, gasp, gasp, hack-hack, wheeeeeze, hack!" loudly exhaled and inhaled the villain of this story as he took one agonizing step after another up the Astronomy tower. 'Get Potter!' was his mantra as he started up the stairs, which soon became, 'Don't have a stroke going up these stairs!'
A few more steps and Harry was at the top of the tower. He quickly moved over to a wall and braced himself against it while he caught his breath.
A moment later, the evil killer clown came up the stairs, the ominous squeak, squeak, squeak of his shoes taking each step. He too made it to the top and moved to the opposite wall from Harry, his hand going to it to brace himself as he caught his breath.
"This place could use some elevators," Harry panted out, wiping the sweat off his brow.
"Word," Voldemort agreed, flicking his own sweat away.
Harry never did recall what the two chatted about for the few minutes they caught their breath, got their stamina back, and limbered up to start their epic duel. Truth be told, he wasn't really paying attention.
"Now, Potter, we are at the top of Hogwarts. A fettle place for our final duel. Are you ready to die?"
"Hey, Chief, you're getting ahead of yourself, aren't you? Me die? C'mon. Really?"
Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he got into a dueling stance. "Ready to face me, coward?"
"Dude, why are you standing like that? It looks like you are going to take a crap," Harry pointed out.
"Silence! It is time to die, Potter!"
"Your funeral, pal." Harry then got into a dueling stance and waddled near him. "See? This position looks like I need to crap my pants."
"Shut up!"
Harry used that moment to unleash another whack between the eyes on the evil clown with his umbrella again. Moments before it was to hit, Voldemort dodged to the side, smacking the umbrella aside and out of Harry's hand.
"Hah! Missed!" Voldemort chortled aloud.
"You're right," Harry agreed, and then jolted him with the cattle prod.
The red-headed evil clown gritted his teeth, dropped his wand, but then latched onto the cattle prod, yanking it out of Harry's hand. The pain stopped immediately on Voldy. He waved the cattle prod above his head. "Hah-hah-hah! Victory will be mine, Potter!"
Well, victory was going to be someone's as right then a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky, connecting with the cattle prod, and 1.21 gigawatts of energy went into the evil wizard. His eyes lit up as he sparked and was flung over the Astronomy tower wall, towards all the evil minions below.
"Note to self," Harry muttered as he moved to the edge of the wall. "Get some guardrails up here."
Harry saw the evil clown hit the ground below. SPLAT!
"And Bob's your uncle, you insane asylum escapee," Harry mumbled.
Harry noticed the evil minions hadn't noticed the descent of their leader. For some reason they seemed engrossed in whatever was happening with the animatronics. "Wish I had a bullhorn," Harry commented in a low voice, looking for something to get those cretins attentions.
Harry found a working bullhorn a few moments later. Hmm, that's convenient, Harry thought, flicking the power button on. Leaning over the side, Harry shouted, "Your leader is dead, numbskulls! Knock it off or no desert after dinner!"
"No pudding? But I like pudding!" one Death Eater whined to another DE.
"That Potter whelp has killed our leader again! We must avenge him!" shouted the voice of Malfoy Sr.
"You might want to avenge him, Malfoy, but I don't. I never did like the crucios he handed out like candy."
"True… I never liked that part either," Malfoy Sr. admitted.
"Then we surrender?" inserted another voice.
"Aurors! You're surrounded! Surrender or die!" yelled the determined, and as usual – late, voice of a magical policeman.
"I'm all for surrendering, boys," Malfoy Sr. dropped his wand.
Harry saw the remaining goons surrender and the animatronic spiders skitter back to their sheds somewhere in the forest, and the guys in the troll suits just sat down as Harry was sure wearing those rubber suits was hot.
And there was much rejoicing by the student body. Nothing like a bit of excitement during exams! "Maybe exams might even be cancelled…" Harry caught one student wishing to another.
{-49-}
That evening, as the bad guys had been taken away to jail, the monste… er… misguided creatures returned to their habitats, and those poor de-souled werewolves taken away to wherever they take the de-souled to spend their last days on Earth until they starve or dehydrate to death, Albus Dumbledore sat across his impressive desk (well, not impressive to Harry but he didn't need to know that) from Harry. They had been in the Great Hall for dinner, but after the constant cheering, constant back-slapping, and constant drink-spilling on the Headmaster by an enthused Argus Filch (what had gotten into that man after all, Albus wondered), the ancient wizard had had enough and excused himself to his office.
And once there, he found that Harry had decided to meet him there. Of course, he never noticed Luna, her clothes a little ruffled, discreetly make her way out of the office while Harry stayed behind to run interference with the Headmaster.
Soon enough the Headmaster was engrossed in telling Harry all about the scar on his knee (yet again, and yet again taking absolutely for-ever!) to the point where Harry couldn't escape. So he settled back in the comfy chair and dozed. Only waking at the end when Albus finally stopped listening to his own voice and asked Harry a very important question.
"…and that was how I discovered the positive energy of lemon drops. All because of my knee," Albus lamented, turning his chair around to face his graduating student.
Harry awoke immediately after subconsciously hearing: "…of my knee". Stretching, Harry said, "Yet another interesting story of your knee, Albus. Well, I've got to be goi…"
"So Harry," Albus interrupted (and not for the first time in the seven years Harry had been going to that school. "Now that you have graduated, what do you think you will do now?" The Headmaster smiled an earnest smile, thinking that would soothe all the world's woes.
Harry thought how to respond to that question and finally decided that Albus needed to hear the brutal truth. "Well," Harry started. "Since I just finished seven years of sub-par education that will give me no job prospects whatsoever, not even as a stage magician since none of the teachers could teach me how to do card tricks, I've had to give that question some serious thought. And I think I have it."
A pause.
"And what is that, my boy," Albus prompted, eager to learn his student's next course in life.
Harry smiled and pulled out a metal rod, flicked his wrist and it extended. He pressed a button and some sparks came from it. "Now that I have my replacement cattle prod, and since Filch says he is planning on retiring to open a distillery, I'm thinking of taking over his spot in this insane asylum in order to keep the crazies in line."
"That's… simply fantastic, my boy," Albus smiled, not sure how some of the students were going to like having Harry cleaning the loos around there. Or more like, having the students clean the loos during their detentions… or else Harry would use that magical stick of his. But, hey, it could be worse. He could be going muggle.
"That, or I may take some classes at home and go to Uni this fall. Maybe I can buy my way in. After all, it's what my parents did with me in this loony bin."
Albus' smile faltered a bit. It was worse.
{-49-}
2 months later…
"Headmaster Dumbledore!" asserted one of the ministry drones attached to the minister.
"Yes, random wizard?" Albus said wearily.
"The reporters and attendees are all wondering when Mr. Potter will get here for the award ceremony? It's not everyday someone gets an Order of Merlin, 1st Class," the man pointed out the obvious.
Albus shared a suffering look with his potions professor. They had both met with Mr. Potter about this award several times, the most recent being that very morning. Harry had insisted he was in no mood to get a make-believe award from insane inmates, but somehow Albus didn't think telling the government stooge that would go over well.
"Regrettably, Mr. Potter has other duties he must attend," Albus started knowing full well some of those duties included taking remedial courses (whatever those were) in order to get into Uni (that he did know what it was).
"He's not here?!" the stooge nearly had a heart attack. "But… this is an important ceremony! Whatever will we do?!"
Albus and Severus shared that same look again. They had impressed that same message on young Harry earlier in the day, only to get Harry's curt response of: "Listen, Albus, if you have to do something crazy for your wacky 'wizarding' ceremony, then why don't you give that make-believe medal to Mr. Rock since she was there for the epic final battle." Harry then rolled his eyes and went back to mixing different coffees together in an effort to learn a new trade while his former headmaster and teach left the coffee house.
Fearing they would break the Secrecy Statute, the two educators left the coffee house and returned to Hogwarts. Now it was time to use Dumbledore's influence like he never had before, the old Headmaster know.
And so it was with great gusto and pompous windbags giving long speeches that no one would ever remember, that the Order of Merlin, 1st Class was awarded to Harry Potter. And accepting on his behalf was Mr. Rock, that fabulous piece of some kind of mineral that no one knew since they were not engineers nor had ever thought of what was in a rock. There was much clapping and picture taking. In fact, one specific picture of Mr. Rock and the award around her rocky body was taken and turned into a Chocolate Frog card.
This same Chocolate Frog card amazingly enough became the most sought after card in the wizarding world and the rarest one of all within months of its release. It was probably because the Goblins all collected the card and didn't give a crap about Wizards wanting that card to complete their collections.
They knew the truth about Mr. Rock and her odd favorites over the millennia.
{-49-}
Read and Review, please! Smiles!
Steve2
I know, I know, this reads like it is the end of the story. But fear not! There is still [at least] one chapter left.
An interesting note: a reader recently suggested the return of Mr. Rock was needed. I had this chapter plotted before I posted chapter 47, so Mr. Rock was always going to be pivotal to this chapter. But the anticipation and suggestion (guess?) for Mr. Rock was well done! Great minds think alike.
And thank you Slytherin66 who had the great idea of giving Mr. Rock a Chocolate Frog card for all that she had to put up with.
And thank you to GuidingHand for pointing our my spelling errors. I posted this the other night, near midnight, and was very tired when I finished writing it.
