The crowd was buzzing. Why hadn't they started yet? The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams were just milling around the goal posts, and Madam Hooch was standing at the center line conferring with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. They looked serious.
Victoria nudged Nathan at the scene going on below. He too, looked concerned.
"You don't think something's happened to him?" she asked nervously. "Eddie?"
Nathan squinted towards the gaggle of Hufflepuff players. "Can't be sure. I can only count six, but it can be any one of them, right?" He looked fearful. "Let's just wait and find out."
Minutes passed. After a quarter of an hour, they announced that there had been another attack.
The Fateful Eight's expressions changed from one of concern and fear to one of dread when Professor McGonagall whipped out a megaphone.
"This match has been cancelled," she addressed the chattering crowd. Oliver Wood tried to protest, but his pleas fell on deaf ears and McGonagall wouldn't hear it. She then beckoned the Fateful Eight to follow her. They knew what had happened.
She strode briskly into the hospital wing, with the six remaining Fateful Eight trailing meekly behind her. And sure enough.
Eddie, lying there, unseeing, frozen as though in stone, in a sort of odd position, bent at the waist, on all fours, like a dog. Clearly he had been trying to escape the basilisk when he was attacked. Maybe he had slipped and fallen on a puddle of some sort. Maybe he tripped. It didn't matter. Now, not one, but two of their family had been attacked, and they knew that Voldemort knew. They were targeted.
"Um, Professor?" Natalie squeaked, still in her Gryffindor Quidditch robes.
"Yes, Miss Rogers?" she barked, turning around to look at her.
"Um, is it all right if we go and talk to Professor Dumbledore?"
"Quite, Miss Rogers," McGonagall replied with the merest hint of a smile. Natalie beckoned the rest of them to follow her, and they did.
The Transfiguration teacher told them the password- "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum," so that when they reached Dumbledore's office, they could easily get past the gargoyles.
They knocked on the headmaster's door, and were greeted with the usual "Come in."
Natalie wrenched open the door and found the aged wizard facing the portrait of Armando Dippet hands clasped, clearly having been conferring with his predecessor. She wondered momentarily on whether Dumbledore was asking for advice on what to do, as Dippet had dealt with this situation in 1942 when Tom Riddle set the basilisk upon his students and framed Rubeus Hagrid. "Well, Miss Rogers?" he asked, not turning to face them.
"Um, Professor…" she asked uncertainly. "I'm...concerned."
"Concerned?" Dumbledore asked. "But you told me, last year, that the Chamber of Secrets situation would easily be handled. And I trust in my staff, specifically Poppy and Pomona, to come up with the cure. Pomona herself is preparing mandrake juice, and it will be fed to Mr. Pattinson and Miss Davidson, don't you worry."
"Yes, but…" Natalie went on, clearly exasperated. "Professor, Voldemort knows that we're trying to stop him. He had different targets in the books, obviously, he's targeting us. In the series as we know it, everyone survives the basilisk due to happenstance and lucky chance, what if one of us die?"
Dumbledore turned and faced her, and put a hand on his chin. "You make an excellent point. Very well. I will ponder this, and you would be best to return to your own common rooms. Off you go."
Natalie looked flabbergasted at being dismissed so easily, but she nodded and indicated for the rest to follow her out of the professor's study. While walking back, she was talking feverishly about how they ought to prepare for the next attack if there was one.
"Well, obviously, I can try to get the diary from Ginny so she doesn't attack anyone else. Do you have any ideas, Tom?" For Tom had his hand on his chin, as he usually did when he was thinking.
"That sounds good," he told her. "Because I can't get into her dorm. You're the only one that can."
So they agreed. Later that night, Natalie crept out her bed and downstairs to the first years' dorm, and took the diary from an unsuspecting, sleeping Ginny. As per the new rules, all students were holed up in their common rooms all night. It wasn't until the following morning at breakfast when they could meet again.
Over the next few weeks they discussed what to do with the diary. They considered asking Dumbledore if they could use the sword to stab it, but they didn't. They chose to leave the sword in its case, perfectly polished and shiny new for when they really needed it. The other thing they tried working on was perfecting Parselmouth. They tried to remember how Harry did it in the Chamber of Secrets movie, because the book didn't provide a good enough description. It was also annoying getting escorted from class to class by their teachers, especially Snape, who didn't allow talking, and Lockhart, who continued his usual charade of blabbing on and on about his "achievements."
Tom rolled his eyes. He couldn't wait until they were rid of that preposterously pompous prat of a professor. He then laughed at his own alliterative joke.
And so February became March, and March April, and there had yet to be a third attack. Colin and Penelope and Hermione were all well and good.
The Heir of Slytherin accusations had mostly disappeared around Sean, and had formed around Malfoy instead. Word was he was bitter about the defeat in last year's baseball challenge. The Fateful Eight - or the Subdued Six, as Nathan lightheartedly dubbed their reduced number, laughed at these interesting accusations, knowing the truth.
Hagrid had been arrested, just like in the books. The Ministry was suspicious about his involvement in the whole scheme, no changes there. And yes, Dumbledore had been removed as headmaster, though the six knew, it would be temporary.
They were sitting in the library one April afternoon shortly after the Easter holidays working on homework when Malfoy strolled up to them, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
"So how does it feel?" he flaunted. "To lose your leader?"
Sean looked at him, confused. "Do you mean Dumbledore?"
"No, I mean Pattinson. He's your leader, isn't he?"
"We don't..have a leader.." Tom told Malfoy, puzzled at his question.
But Malfoy was playing an elaborate game. "I just assumed he was your leader," he prodded.
"After all, he did come up with that "bass ball" game last year. And he comes up with all of your plans.."
"Actually, that's not true.." Natalie began to protest. "None of us are the leader. We work together."
"Don't know, seems like Eddie's the smartest, the best.." Malfoy went on, smirking.
"What are you playing at?" Tom asked him inquisitvley. "You're playing some kind of intricate game here, and I want to find out what."
"No, not playing, not playing at all," said Malfoy smiling. "Just trying to find out the leader here."
"Well, it's not Eddie," said Tom. "It's no one."
"But how can you function without a leader?" Malfoy asked innocently.
"We get by," Sean chipped in quietly.
"Ah! The Mudblood Slytherin standing up for his friends! Miss your girlfriend, do you?"
Sean stood up. "Get out," he growled.
By this point the other five were on their feet as well.
"We have you two to one." Sean scowled at him. "Get out now."
A few of the others drew their wands.
"Whatever you say.." Malfoy snickered. "Assuming you're the leader, of course."
At that point they were making such a stir that Madam Pince stomed over and kicked them all out.
Malfoy was grinning from ear to ear as he departed with Crabbe and Goyle. Sean was breathing heavily.
"Thank God," he told them. "I was ready to punch that bastard like Eddie did Seamus. Man that was something."
He leaned back against the wall and sighed. "Guys..there's something I have to tell you." He closed his eyes.
"I…"
"Am Spider Man?" Natalie asked.
"What?! No!" Sean was incredulous. "Where the hell did you get that idea?"
"It's a line from a movie." It was in fact, from the recent release Spider-Man Far From Home, which released about two months before they were teleported to the Potterverse.
"Anyway…" he continued. "I..
"Like Claire?" Nathan asked mischievously.
"How the HECK did you get that right away SHEESH?" Sean exclaimed. "Was I that obvious?"
"Uh, yeah!" Nathan snorted. "You always got super defensive when people made fun of her."
Sean managed a grin. "Hey, at least I did a good job of keeping it a secret." He coughed, and it sounded oddly like, Victoria! She blushed and he smiled again. "You two dating yet?" he asked.
Now it was Nathan's turn to blush..
"N..no.."
They bickered in good spirit all the way back to the common room.
A/N
I want to make an apology. I know I haven't posted in nearly a month, don't remind me. I was working on my Eagle Scout project, as I'm almost done with Boy Scouts plus fighting writer's block. The chapter was light, and probably not worth your wait, I apologize. However, I sat down in class the other day and wrote an outline for this story, and it should go around 77 chapters. Hope that appeased you all. Good day.
