You're a protagonist Harry
Chapter 13 – Working man's PhD
…
"Harry, I got a problem."
Always an interesting way to start a conversation.
"Ya don't say."
"I don't gots no money."
A thing Harry had surmised shortly after meeting his ginger friend.
"And, precisely, what were you expecting me to do about this?" he asked, dreading the possible answer.
Ron just shrugged, slouched into his chair, and looked pathetic, "Feel sorry for me."
It was possible he might have done that, but the way he begged for pity... it was just too much. A chuckle became a chortle evolved into a full-blown belly laugh. "Oh yeah. You got it Ron. All the sympathy, just for you."
"Well, good," he pouted, making Harry laugh all the harder. "I really didn't want to do this?"
"What's that?" Harry asked, once he got the giggles under control.
"I'm gonna have to… work for it."
"Uh huh," logical, except, "and where were you planning to find the work?"
"The work board," he said absently.
"… the what now?" said Harry, even more absently.
"The work board," Ron repeated. "Wait, you've never heard of the work board."
"Would I have this stupid look on my face if I had?"
Then it was Ron's turn to laugh.
"Well, ya see," he sniggered, "there's a board, down in Hogsmeade, where people can post odd jobs. It's connected to a board up here so when they post it down there, it appears up here."
"Huh. Neat." Work you were actually paid for? What a novel concept.
"Yeah. You wanna go have a look?"
Did he!
The work board was located next to the hour glasses that tracked house points. It also tracked who earned or lost points, and who gave or took them.
"Bloody travesty! Look at that. Barely here two weeks and they're already a hundred points up."
"Snape, Snape, Snape, Flitwick, Snape, Snape, yeah I'm seeing a bit of a pattern here."
It was an open secret, Snape's bias towards his own house. It boggled the mind how any reasonable person could justify it.
"Sort of makes the whole system feel like one big joke, dun it," said Harry.
Ron just shook his head, disgusted. "Bloody berk! Ah, forget him. That's not what we came down here for."
The board was about ten-foot-long and four feet high. A simple wood framed board covered in bits of parchment and paper pinned to it.
"Spoiled for choice," said Harry, reading over several of the job listings.
"Dad said the board's usually pretty full at the beginning of term. What with no one being around all summer to do'em."
"Makes sense."
"Just gotta bring my form to McGonagall, get my card and I'll be ready to go."
"What form?"
"This one," he said, producing a small slip from his pocket. "You need permission from a parent or guardian. It's mostly just so you can leave the castle grounds."
"Where'd you get that?"
"Well, Percy brought it home last spring, but they're right there at the end of the board," he said, pointing to a small box hanging off the end.
There was a table beneath and, oddly, two pens, one black and one blue. Taking a slip from the box, Harry opened the black pen and scribbled his name at the top.
"Probably take a day or two before you get that back," Ron guessed.
"No," said Harry, closing the black pen and taking up the blue one. "My uncle would never sign this. He hated signing my regular school forms. That's why I learned to do this."
Clearing his throat in a pompous, blustery sort of way, he danced the pen across the paper in the form of Vernon Dursley.
"There we are. Perfect."
"Cor Blimey!" Ron exclaimed. "Is that really what his signature looks like?"
"Fooled everyone at my old school. Aunt Petunia too."
"Well then, how come you wrote your name all scribbly?"
"Same reason I used both pens, so no one would believe both names were written by the same hand."
"Cor!" his friend said, far too easily impressed. "You think it'll work on McGonagall?"
"If she's as overworked as I've been led to believe, she won't give them a second glance."
She barely gave them a first glance. Surrounded by budgetary reports and other such minutia, they could tell their presence was not wanted. Getting rid of them in the most expeditious fashion was the priority, not judging signatures.
Two minutes and a stern warning not to lose them, they had their cards and were on their way.
"You think she's always that busy?" Ron wondered as they wandered back to the board.
"Would explain the scowl."
"Mm. So whatcha think for our first job?"
"Well, let's see," said Harry, adjusting his glasses and sticking his nose up to the board. "Can you, clean out a chimney?"
"Nope."
"Dig a new well?"
"Uh uh."
"Find that dang goose!"
"Uh, I'm gonna say, no."
"Good answer, probably. Ah, here's one. Exterminate all the rats in the basement. Whatcha think?"
"We could do that. I've hunted birds back home."
"Close enough."
"You ever killed anything before Harry?"
"Just that dark lord guy."
"Oh, yeah, right. Forgot."
Harry grinned at his friend's shameful face. "Fret not. In times of trouble a man finds he has powers he never even dreamed he possessed. And if that doesn't work, I'm sure I'll figure it out."
With that inspiring speech, the boys left the castle and headed for the gates.
Having only viewed them from afar, it was inspiring seeing them up close for the first time. Ornate, intricate, the seal of Hogwarts stamped square in the center, split down the middle with the gates swung open.
"Hate to try climbing over that," said Harry as they slowly strolled through.
"Better make sure we get back before they lock up," said Ron.
"Locks at six!"
The two boys leapt at the big booming voice that turned into big booming laughter. "Startled ya did I?" the bearded giant said.
"No, no, my heart always beats this fast," Ron squeaked, further adding to his shame.
"What brings you out here Hagrid?" said Harry, quicker than Ron to recover.
"Just checking some tracks," he said. "Something's been howlin around the walls at night. Don't want it getting in."
"Wouldn't the wards keep it out?" Ron said.
"If'n it were a dark creature. But a wolf or a wild dog, wards ain't made to keep them out. That's what the wall for."
"But the wall doesn't go all the way around the castle," Harry observed, "it stops a little way into the forest."
"An that's why I's out here lookin at tracks," bringing the logic thread to a close. "So, what're you lads doin?"
"We're working," said Harry, flashing his card along with Ron. "We're headed down to the village. We have to find a place called, the… Hog's head," he read.
"Aye, I know that'n. At's Aberforth's place. Why don't I walk down with you lads and show ya."
Closing the gate, the two boys fell in on either side of the towering grounds keeper as they followed the road down to Hogsmeade, chatting amicably.
"How's Fluffy?"
"He's fine, he's fine. Liked them milk bones I had Abner pick up. Appiest I seen him all week. Bit rough on im you know, being all couped up in the castle."
"Isn't that where he's usually at?"
"Oh no, ee's go his little house down at the far edge a the forest, just a little ways in so's ya can't see it."
"Well… why's he in the castle now?"
"I's lendin im to Eadmaster Dumbledore."
Dumbledore? "Is he the reason we're not supposed to go into that third-floor corridor?"
Harry knew he must've hit on something because the big man looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Shouldn'ta told you that," he mumbled, but not quietly enough not to be heard.
"But why did Dumbledore need to borrow him. Is he guarding something? Is it that little package Abner took out of Gringotts?"
Bullseye! "Right then, no more questions," said Hagrid brusquely, speeding his pace and forcing the two boys to run to keep up.
Hogsmeade, the village, was a cozy looking place. The Hog's head, the bar, was on the far side of the village, well off the main way called 'Highstreet' and looked just about anything but cozy.
"This is it," Hagrid declared proudly.
"You sure?" The way Ron was looking at it made Harry think he wished it weren't.
"Sure I'm sure," the bearded giant said. "Come on, let's go in."
"Just thinking," Ron whispered to Harry. "Place like this, looks like half his patrons would be the rats."
The inside did nothing to change this impression. The windows were darkened with filth, staining what little light was strong enough to get through. The air reeked of stale beer, smoke, and something that might have once been goats.
A man, who could have passed for a very grumpy Dumbledore, stood behind the bar, giving a gruff nod to Hagrid as the giant led the boys up to the bar.
"Aberforth," Hagrid greeted.
"Hagrid," he replied, looking over Ron and Harry like he was considering which would make a better coat and which should be his new trousers. "Well, you two gonna buy something or are ya here for the rats?"
"Uh, we're here for the RAts! Rats, rats, we're here for the rats."
"And you?"
"What he said, "said Harry, "but without that squeak in the middle."
"You lads look like first years. You even know any magic yet?"
"Uh…"
"No."
The old man nodded, stroked his beard then reached under the bar and rummaged around till he came out with a pair of knives he carelessly tossed onto the bar.
One was straight with a military look to it and nasty big teeth on the back side. The other was black, etched with white markings and slithering from the hilt to the point.
"Pretty sure the blade on that one is cursed."
Ron grinned and took the one with teeth, "All yours Harry."
"Gee, thanks."
"Basement's down the stairs behind that door. It's a sickle a head and I'll pay a knut for every whelp you can bring me. Dead or alive it don't matter. Now off with ya."
Tossed a couple burlap sacks the boys trudged into the basement.
"Can't see a bloody thing!"
"Lumos."
"Oh! Thanks Harry."
The simple light spell was the only magic either of them could thus far reliably perform.
"If I'm holding the light, you're going to have to do most of the killing," said Harry. "I've only got two hands and I don't want to go flailing about with this dagger."
"Yeah, I don't want you to flail around with that dagger either," said Ron.
In the dark of the basement, rather than becoming harder to see the black blade had become clearer. The white markings stood in stark contrast to the blade which shone darker than the surrounding darkness.
It chilled them both to look at it.
"Don't worry. I go this. All we gotta do is find them."
A task which proved to be of minimal difficulty. A dozen sat in a circle in the middle of the floor chewing the shells off peanuts when the boys arrived.
Ron decided to employ the age-old strategy of jumping into the middle of them and stabbing at whatever his blade could hit.
This proved good enough for, one. The moment he was among them the rats scattered, diving under, around, and even into the nearby crates and barrels stacked around the room.
"Look Harry! I got one."
"Great. Now how bout the rest."
Cunning and crafty a creature, the rat, not easily hunted by clumsy, galumphing humans. But hunt them they did.
Between the two of them they shifted and re-shifted barrels and crates, scurrying rats for Ron to chase. There was more than a dozen, and after an hour of practice Ron was getting pretty good at stabbing them, while Harry had yet to stab any. He had collected several nests of squishy pink whelps though.
"That's—twenty-seven by my count. Think we're getting close?"
"Could be," said Harry. "I know there's still a couple back by that wall, I think their hiding behind that curtain."
"Bit odd isn't it, having a curtain on the wall in a basement?"
It may have been overgenerous calling it a curtain. Filthy, ragged, and hanging across a drooping line held by a pair of bent nails in the wall. What else would you call it?
"You think there's something back there?"
"Yeah, rats."
"I mean besides that."
Seemed possible. The longer he looked at it the more it seemed to Harry there was something off about the whole thing. Not a curtain on the wall, which was odd, but the way it was hanging, and moving, as though touched by something. A gentle breeze?
"Only one way to find out."
Holding his wand higher, he motioned for Ron to advance. The ginger did but with understandable hesitation, leading with the knife which he used to poke at the curtain.
"Hey! There's some kind of opening behind it."
Pulled to the side, a door sized hole in the wall was revealed leading into a second, smaller room.
"Ugh! What is that smell?"
It hit Harry a second later and he recoiled at the stench, "Smells like a sewer. You think that's what this is. Some sort of entrance into the sewers."
"Didn't know they had sewers," said Ron. "You think that's where all the rats came from?"
"Could be," that's where all the rats in London were rumored to come from. "See anything?"
"Nah, I need more light."
"You got a wand, don't ya."
"Oh yeah." He'd been the knife man so long he'd almost forgotten apparently, "Lumos."
The second light sprang to life, illuminating the second room and its limited contents. Miscellaneous bits of straw and twig cobbled together with mud and other, um, earthy substances, forming a sort of large nest. Much larger than would be of any use for a common rat like the ones they'd been hunting.
"What you spose made that?" Ron wondered aloud.
"Same thing that made the hole."
Roughhewn right through the far wall, this was the source of the smell. The hole was at least two feet wide, and as they stood their gagging, they became aware of a scratching sound, growing louder and louder.
"You hear that?"
It was hard to over the pounding of his heart, but then he didn't need to. Even standing behind Ron he could make out a pair of red specks coming through the hole which, in fact, appeared to be a tunnel.
The creature attached to those specks didn't bother to emerge, it wasn't blind, it saw the lights. When it came through it lunged.
"Sweet Merlin what is thaaaaa!" Ron screamed as the enormous rat flew at him.
Knocked to the ground he lost his wand and his knife as both hands came up to grasp the mouth and hold back the massive gnawing teeth from chewing his face off. "HARRY!"
The rat was nearly the size of a man, longer than he was tall if you counted the tail. With both hands full, Harry kicked the creature square in the midsection as hard as he could, knocking it off Ron and earning its ire for himself.
"Watchout!"
It recovered quickly and made a swipe at him with its teeth, tearing his pant leg and causing Harry to stumble. It capitalized on this, rearing up and leaping on top of Harry, snapping its vicious buck teeth.
The wand slipped from his hand and the room, falling to darkness, was filled with the grunts and growls of struggle, scrambling in the dark and horrid pained verminous squeaks. Some of that scrambling was caused by Ron as he fumbled in the dark for his wand. Finding it, he brought light back to the room just in time for Harry to push a dead and much diminished 'giant' rat off.
"What happened?"
Harry said nothing, just held up the dark glowing dagger.
"What'd it do?"
"Looks like it, desiccated it," said Harry, giving the thing a kick and receiving a wooden sounding thunk.
"What's that mean?"
"Dried out," said Harry. "All the water removed. I stabbed it a few times before I just left the knife in so I could use both hands to fight it. That's when it seemed to take effect."
"Blimey!" seemed to sum up both their feelings on the situation. "Think there's any more of those?"
"I think we should tell Aberforth about this hole before we have to find out."
"I like that idea," said Ron eagerly, retrieving his knife while Harry went to get his wand. "Hey, you think well get more for this one, on account it being so big."
"Uh…"
"Sickle a head, don't care how big it is," the old barman said.
The exhausted and filthy ratcatchers stared at the grumpy Dumbledore then shared a look that said it all.
'Stingy old bastard!'