My birthday is coming up, and I have a fully booked weekend, which is why this chapter is being posted early. Consider it my birthday to present to YOU.
If you're bothering to read this part at all, much love. Any Dungeons and Dragons nerds out there? What classes do you think all the characters are?
Personally, I think James would be either an Evocation Wizard, Clockwork Soul sorcerer, a moonpath druid, or an DENX/INT based arcane trickster rogue/eldritch knight fighter multiclass. Hermione is most definitely an Abjuration Wizard to me. Harry is a Great Old One Warlock, cuz, you know, the SCAR. Travis is an Eldritch Knight Fighter in my eyes while Brian has to be a College of Lore Bard. Ron is most definitely a Battle Master fighter, and Kiara is a Light Domain Cleric or Divine Soul Sorcerer.
Dumbledore is a multiclassing dice goblin, while Snape is an Alchemist Artificer. McGonagall is a moonpath druid. Flitwick is a sort of bard, too, probably a lore or war college. Lockhart would be a bard, too, but a bard nobody likes, like the College of Glamour.
James Sr. would probably be best suited as an Eldritch Knight or Echo Knight. Sirius would make a great swashbuckler rogue, and Remus could rock out the whole intelligent and bookish barbarian/werewolf thing. Nerd rage, anyone?
I can't really think of a class for Lily… her being disabled and in a wheelchair seems to make that hard for me. Anyone have thoughts on what she could be? A kind of wizard? I'd be curious to know whatcha think, so please:
DROP A REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WOULD CLASS THE CHARACTERS AS! REVIEWS ARE LOVE AND GIVE ME A d20 BARDIC INSPIRATION DIE!
As an aside note, I wanna let you guys know that this book is officially finished! All I have to do for the remaining chapters is to do last minute editing and proofreading. The next book, for obvious reasons, is going to be wildly different to the original PoA, so I am currently in the middle of writing out my outline for that. There may yet be an interlude with some short stories added onto this book, but for now, I'm focusing my efforts on getting started on the Prisoner of Azkaban, where one of my most bada** original characters to date will be introduced. I hope you all are just as excited about meeting him as I am about creating Oscar Isaac-er, I mean, the first Prisoner from Azkaban to ever escape his prison.
On that note…
EN-EN-ENJOI
…
With the start of December came the end of term jitters. Things had calmed down in terms of everyday life however, and James Dean found all the time he needed to finish his batch of replication potion. With twenty full vials now secured away in his trunk, he could rest easy and focus on other pressing matters, like his revenge on Professor Lockhart. It wouldn't be easy, as suspicion would fall on him, but backing down now, in his opinion, wasn't an option.
Brian, of course, had been getting spacier and spacier. He would say weird things, like how he knew something was going to happen, that he'd "seen things," or just blank out for entire hours at a time, lost in LaLaLand. They had all noticed it back on the night when Mrs. Norris had been attacked, but had shrugged it off at the time, thinking he'd just been spooked or distraught, but James and Hermione discussed it in private and decided that it wasn't just fear. Something was wrong with him, and it was beginning to eat at him and his grades, but they still had no idea how to broach the topic.
It was about a week into the final month of the year when McGonagall came around collecting names for who was staying for the winter holidays. James, Travis, and Brian all slipped their names into the collection, and with a little reluctance, Kiara did as well. Her father had written her demanding she came home, a letter which she ignored in a sudden show of brazen rebellion, and James and Travis looked at her with a newfound sense of pride.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione added their name to the list, as well, for obvious reasons. James had it on good authority that Malfoy was staying, making Operation: Slither In(a name he penned for the infiltration into Slytherin with the Polyjuice Potion) a go. Unfortunately, said potion was only half finished. James, Travis, and Hermione all took turns taking care of it in their off time, giving James plenty of time to strategize his revenge against Professor Dentures as he stirred the cauldron.
"Professor Dentures?" Hermione asked him the first time he used the moniker.
"There's no way those are his real teeth," he replied with a shrug. "They gotta be fake."
"That's ridiculous! Perhaps you're just jealous?"
"Me?" he scoffed, scowling. "I don't get jealous. I don't get even get mad, or even. I get ahead."
Things were progressing well, concerns of people's feelings about Lockhart aside. The Polyjuice potion was only a week away from being done, and they all turned their minds to other things. James, like last year, sent his mother a list of things to get everyone for Christmas for him, and washed his hands of that pesky problem. Brian and he could then be found in the hallways between and after classes, serenading passersby with acoustic guitar punk rock versions of Christmas carols. Fred and George picked up on the trend and joined them in their shenanigans, until they were busted by Snape and all docked points for "disturbing the peace."
In response, they moved their act to the Grand Hall at breakfast, lunch, and dinner to the absolute merriment of Dumbledore, who started sponsoring the act with allotted times they were allowed to do it and volunteering the school choir to join them at times. James found this all to be amazing, but really, it was all a front. Hermione had given the Three Kings of Ravenclaw the task of finding out what Slytherins were staying at school, and to subsequently nab their hair samples. The initial operation was a partial success, as being the background musicians to a very Merry Christmas distracted everyone enough to allow Travis to get the slip on some strands of hair, and naturally everybody droned them out and talked about almost everything they needed to know and more.
It was confirmed that Malfoy and his usual gang was sticking around for the holidays, but beyond that, who was staying was now a crapshoot. The rest of what they learned was juicy little secrets that while fun, interesting, or downright disturbing, had no bearing on Operation: Slither In.
Did you know the new Fifth Year Slytherin prefect was in a secret relationship with Oliver Wood? No, of course you didn't, because dirty little secrets like that aren't something brought up in normal circumstances. But when there's happiness all around and bards to ignore, you feel free to talk about your dark little secrets for some weird reason.
The collection of information that they wanted, on the other hand, had proven even more difficult, as there wasn't really an easy way to get close to people to gather intelligence when your performance gets moved from a hallway to a literal stage in the Great Hall. The clock was ticking, and James, Travis, and Brian were all feeling the pressure. So, as end of term came ever closer, James was forced to take a more... direct approach.
…
The dust fluttered in the air, shimmering in the sparse moonlight coming through the drafty windows of McGonagall's office. James, invisible under the Invisibility Cloak, slipped into the room and softly clicked the heavy door shut behind him. Weaseling his way through the darkness to her desk, he quickly pulled the drawers open and began rifling through the papers held within, carefully mulling through the sheafs of parchment in search of The List.
In the first drawer, he found a bunch of graded essays from their most recent assignment. He snickered when he saw Draco Malfoy's abysmal grade but suppressed the sound and filed them all back the way he found them and moved on to the next drawer. Quills, blank parchment, and empty inkwells greeted him, and he slid the drawer shut again, sneering.
The third drawer... he quickly slid back shut. He was far too young for that.
Moving to the other side of the large, impressive oak desk, he slid open the next, top drawer... and bingo. The List was there, right at the top. With a grin, he scanned the page and made a note of every recognizable Slytherin name he could.
Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass... all Slytherins, and an added bonus, all in their year. With a now complete target list, James set the sheet down and made for the exit when a loud scuff could be heard outside the door, followed by voices.
Uh oh.
"You better not be putting me on, Argus," the nasally, Scottish accented voice of Professor McGonagall could be heard, her voice strained and tired as the sound of scuffling footsteps came closer and closer to the office.
"Oh, I'm not, Professor," came the muffled voice of James's avowed enemy. Filch sounded excited and blood thirsty. "I'm telling ya, I watched your office down open and shut, all on its own!"
"It's probably just Peeves," McGonagall sighed.
"Up to no good, he is!" Filch seethed. "We need some punishment!"
James rolled his eyes. Ever since the Mrs. Norris incident, the phrase, 'I want some punishment!' had become the batty old fool's catchphrase. He'd scratch up any old "infraction" he could on students, write them up a with whole form detailing their supposed wrongs and all but slam the parchment in the closest professor's face, demanding punishment. Ginny Weasley just last week had been caught committing the most heinous crime of crying in a corner windowsill, and all but feinted when Filch demanded she be expelled.
"Well, it is Peeves, Argus," McGonagall sighed again. "'No good' is the meaning behind his entire existence."
With that, the door to the office rattled, and James acted fast. Still under the cloak, he slipped the sheet back in its rightful place and instantly backed into shadows, lest the disturbance of moonlight glittering off the dust particles gave his existence away. The door opened, and McGonagall walked in, bleary eyed in a red silk nightgown under a hastily tied robe, and her usually prim black hair pulled up in a messy bun. James's jaw dropped at the sight.
Damn, he balked to himself. McGonagall is actually kinda... like, she's supposed to be old, right? How old is she again? The way she acts, you'd think she was in her fifties or sixties! How is her skin so flawless? What does she use to moisturize?!
"Peeves!" her voice thundered, as her eagle-eyed glare scanned the room. Her tone of voice was enough to make James flinch, and she wasn't even yelling at him. "If you're in here, you'd best be on with it!"
Silence reigned across the room as McGonagall's gaze fell over where James cowered in the dark corner. He shuddered, hoping beyond hope she didn't have some secret night vision goggle spell that could see through his cloak. Despite the tension, he could still feel the early puberty hormones kick in as he got a good view of her-
Nope, he chided himself. Keep the thoughts PG-13 for the sake of the mission, JD. And… maybe for your own sanity.
"Peeves!" she roared again, her eyes narrowing. A clattering of metal on stone came from down the hall, and James could almost feel his bladder give out, his pucker factor had been so high. A rambunctious and loud giggle flew through the air and behind her and Filch came the ethereal form of Peeves the Poltergeist.
"Argh!" Filch cried as Peeves whopped him in the ear with a wet, incorporeal finger.
"Weeeeeet WILLIE!" Peeves cheered. "Gotcha in the ear-ie, little Filchie! AhahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Before the two could react, Peeves was gone, either invisible or having backed away into the wall from whence he came. McGonagall shook her head, having come out of her state of shock. Lowering her hand, which had found its way to her generous- erherm- chest, she dropped it to her side and she huffed.
"I suppose that is a solved mystery, then, Argus?" she jabbed with a scoff and swayed away. Filch looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his beady black eyes wide in shock that devolved into narrowed anger. With a huff of his own, he plodded off, not even bothering to close the office door behind him.
Grinning at the luck and the most welcome(in more ways than one for a boy entering puberty) sight of McGonagall sashaying away, James slipped out of her office, leaving the door open for Filch to get in trouble for, and made his way back to the Ravenclaw Common Room. The corridors were empty, and beside the occasional giggle from an abandoned classroom or broom closet(really, what was the obsession with broom closets!?) there wasn't a peep, hide, nor hair of even the usual patrolling prefects. As he approached the door to Ravenclaw Tower, the eagle head knocker sensed his presence and knowing what time of day it was, tactfully whispered, "What... is at the end of rainbow?"
James pursed his lips, not having been asked this one before. He gave it some consideration before slapping himself for taking so long. "The letter W," he answered.
"Not the answer I was looking for… but not incorrect," the knocker replied, and the door opened. Since it was well past midnight, the common room was empty, and even the warmth of the fire had dimmed as it had crackled into embers. James shivered, not even having put on a sweater, and made for the dorms. He flung the cloak off as he walked into the shared dormitory to find Brian and Travis still awake and looking at him expectantly.
"You get the list?" Travis asked quietly to avoid waking up Michael Corner or Bem.
"Yup," James whispered back as he folded the cloak and secured it in the bottom of his trunk. He tapped his temple a couple times and grinned. "Got it all up here."
…
Getting the hair strands was a different beast to tame. Crabbe and Goyle's had been simple. James passed a rumor along that Malfoy had bragged that he could beat Seamus Finnegan in a fist fight, and the stereotypical Irishman in Seamus came out strong. He and Dean Thomas confronted the ignorantly innocent Slytherin gang after Potions class the next day, and all James, Travis, and Brian had to do was watch as fire was left in Finnegan's wake.
"The hell is this I hear about ya blabbing about how you could kick me arse, Malfoy?" Seamus demanded, walking up to Malfoy as he left the Potion's class.
"What are you even talking about, you dunder headed arsonist?" Malfoy sneered, not even intimidated.
"Heard you jaw jacking 'bout wanting to fist fight. You wanna fight? Well, bring it on, then!"
Seamus shoved Malfoy so hard the brat flew backwards on his back, head slamming into the stone floor. Within an instant, Crabbe and Goyle were on Seamus, and everyone else leapt into action as well. James grabbed Malfoy off the floor and to his feet by the armpits, sneaking a fallen strand of platinum blond hair from the now disheveled boy's head and slipping it into his robe pocket. Never know when that might come in handy.
"Break it up!" Travis yelled as he hauled Goyle off Seamus, while Brian and Bem held off Crabbe. They both winked at James as they each pilfered a hair off their target's shoulders.
"Perhaps you should avoid running at that mouth, Malfoy," James cracked as he stabilized a dazed and confused Malfoy on his feet.
"Wai-what? What haaaapened?"
"I don't think your noggin can handle the beatings it keeps getting, pally," James laughed, patting his rival on the shoulder as he held him aloft.
"What... is the meaning of this interruption?" Professor Snape sneered as he exited his classroom, looking intent and dangerous.
"Finnegan jumped Malfoy," James explained as Seamus, who was still spitting fire and brimstone at Malfoy, was held back by Harry and Ron. "We broke it up before it turned… pugilistic."
Snape stared at James stoically, before looking to Malfoy. "Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?"
"He's fine," James assured, letting the Slytherin go. Malfoy, however, teetered on his feet and almost collapsed, making James wince as he was forced to once again hold his rival aloft. "Or... maybe not?"
Snape sneered at him before waving his arm furiously. "Twenty points from Gryffindor! And Mr. Finnegan, you can ponder the finer details of living in polite society for the next two weeks in detention. Get Mr. Malfoy to the infirmary and get to your next classes, all of you!"
With the Big Three out of the way, they had to now turn their focus on the harder to nail down targets. Hermione had lucked out and plucked a strand of Millicent Bulstrode's hair during Herbology class, and Harry, in a stroke of momentary genius, ran into Theodore Nott as Harry went in and Theo went out of the bathroom. With an impulsive sleight of hand, he managed to nab of the Slytherin's curly long hairs without being noticed.
It was down to Blaise, Daphne, and Tracey. James ruminated over their next course of action while in Herbology. Sprout had come down from her early year fury and had allowed the three, as well as Kiara, to group back up and James was ever thankful to be away from the Hufflepuffs. They weren't bad people, but damn if his ears didn't ring every time he so much as looked at a blushing Hannah Abbott or goofy, pudgy faced Ernie McMillan. Of course, they weren't in class with the Hufflepuffs that day, but Slytherins, and...
And they were in class with the Slytherins!
Looking to his immediate right, James saw none other than one of their targets, Blaise, standing at the next station over, his lean, aristocratic face grimacing at the thought of touching the dirty and squirming mandrake. The dark-skinned boy had a high and tight haircut, but the eagle-eyed James could see one short, small, curly little hair on his shoulder that could only be his own...
"Bump me," James whispered to Travis as they once again moved the slowly but surely maturing mandrakes into yet another series of larger, bigger pots.
"What?" Travis asked, brow furrowed. James jerked his head into the direction of Blaise Zabini.
"Bump me into Blaise!" he whispered again, more intensely.
"Oh," Travis muttered before smiling coyly. With a wiggle of his hips, he side cocked James clear out of their station, sending him flying.
"Oof!" James sputtered as he fell out of his workspace suddenly, slamming into Blaise. "Travis, quit squirming!"
"Hey!" the quiet, dark skinned Slytherin hollered out, giving James a shove as the smaller Ravenclaw held himself up by holding onto his shoulder.
"Sorry, pally," James apologized, having already used the contact to make off with a lone strand of short curly hair on the Slytherin's shoulder while jerking his head at Travis. "Kids these days can't hold still!"
That left only Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. The two Slytherin girls were not a part of Pansy Parkinson's clique, but they were also not really friends to each other, either. Daphne seemed to be a bit of a Slytherin black sheep, honestly, as she often could be found hanging out with Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and other older students, specifically...
The ever-watchful Samhain al-Fulani, the notorious Sixth Year Ravenclaw Prefect who had attempted to make James, Brian, and Travis's first year a nightmare. James cursed the luck but figured it had had to run out eventually. But as his father had once told him, 'if your luck runs out, use your skills to make your own.'
And make his own he did, as he called Kiara up to bat.
"Okay," James explained over lunch. "So, they're all doing a study sesh in the library after classes, right? So, all you gotta do is join them-"
"Join them?" Kiara hissed, shaking her head. "Are you crazy? I can barely keep myself together hanging out with you crazy three!"
"So it'll be a lesson in overcoming feelings of social inadequacy," Brian shrugged as he tore into a bread roll. "It's not that hard, just fib it. Tell 'em you wanna hang out with someone who isn't the three crazy Potter brothers or something."
"Okay, and then what? I can't just- y'know, touch her or anything!"
"Leave that to us," James shrugged.
Kiara fixed him with a hard stare, to which he balked and nodded his head in quick agreement.
"Right, right," James muttered. "I can see how 'Leave us to touch the girl,' can sound really weird. But really, all you got to do is get in the group, sit on the opposite side of Daphne, and let us handle the rest."
"What exactly are you planning?" Travis asked as he slurped his OJ.
"First off, don't ever make that disgusting noise ever again," James muttered.
Travis did it again, exaggerating it this time to make it extra grotesque.
"You, sir, are an animal. Anyway, you get in the group, then one of us will swing by and be like, 'Yo, Kiara, aren't you gonna come study with us?' Then, while the entire table has their attention on you and whoever approaches, another one of us will walk by and BLOOP! Grab the hair. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. And it'll be completely painless."
…
Kiara did not call walking up to a group of perfect strangers "Easy Peasy." In fact, it was the hardest thing she'd ever done in her entire life, and that was saying something since she had willingly gone along with the damned foolish, idealistic crusade the Potter's had dragged her on at the end of last year. She was practically trembling as she stutter-walked ever closer to the gathered group in the library.
The gathered study group that day had been, as described, led by none other than the notorious Samhain al-Fulani. The Irish-Arabic descent boy was a tall, thin figure with an intimidating glare, but from what she'd seen of him aside from whenever he wasn't dealing with James and his brothers, he was actually rather nice. He was joined by Penelope Clearwater, who she knew was nice, but ever since Kiara and James had caught her with Percy Weasley's tongue down her throat, that was all the blushing and embarrassed Kiara ever saw when she ran into the other Ravenclaw prefect. Next to her sat Ernie McMillan and Hannah Abbott, then Susan Bones, Padma and Parvati Patil, and then...
The target, Daphne Greengrass. To say Kiara was jealous of the Slytherin girl would have had to be an understatement. She was cool, calm, and confident, with big, almond shaped hazel eyes, a sloped, immaculate forehead, high cheekbones, pointed chin, perfectly smooth, olive-toned skin, and flouncy, silky black hair. She never seemed to be phased by anything, taking everything that happened around her in stride. She was a lot like James in that regard, and the more Kiara thought about it, the more she realized Daphne was, to an extent, sort of like a female version of her friend.
That's good, she told herself. Maybe it'll be easier of I just imagine she's a female version of James.
The thought put a bit of steel in her spine, and she was able to approach the table with at least a semblance of certainty, which faltered almost immediately as al-Fulani and Clearwater caught sight of her.
Al-Fulani's face darkened at the sight of her, which made her stumble a little bit. "H-h-hi," she stammered, lip starting to tremble.
"Sam!" Penelope chided, kicking her partner's foot under the table. She shook her head at him and gave her a welcoming smile "Do you want to join our study group, Kiara?"
"Y-ye-ya-y-" Kiara stumbled over the affirmative, and quit trying altogether, simply nodding.
"Brilliant," Penelope grinned and stood, pulling a chair from another table. "Come, you sit next to me, we don't bite!"
"Much," Susan Bones cracked with a joking grin.
Penelope gave her a stern look and guided Kiara to the chair she had provided. "I'm so glad you're trying to come out of your shell," she praised as she had Kiara sat. "We only ever see you with Potter and his sort."
"Bad lot, that," Samhain muttered as he shook his head. "Really, the lot of them should have all been shucked into Gryffindor with the rest of the troublemakers."
"You really don't like them, do you?" Padma asked.
"I think they're kinda cute," her twin, Parvati giggled, making Padma, Hannah, and Susan giggle as well.
"You'd do best to avoid them, I tell you that much," Samhain warned darkly. "They're, and I do mean all of them, dangerous. You remember what happened last year? They are all lucky they didn't get killed!"
"James is just a stereotypical badboy," Penelope rolled her eyes. "Let him get kicked around the Quidditch pitch a couple of times and he'll lose that sense of invincibility."
"Man, I never truly realized how not invincible I am until I got my teeth kicked in by that D-Bag," Kiara remembered James saying after their run in with Quirrell at the end of last year. If only Penelope knew...
"A badboy with a penchant for finding every sort of trouble imaginable. Rumor has it that last year, he smuggled a dragon out of the castle. A bloody dragon!"
"Yeah, I remember that," Daphne piped in with an appreciative grin. "Apparently he got Draco in trouble at the same time, as well, which is sheer genius if you ask me."
"That doesn't make what he did better, Daphne," Samhain growled.
"Maybe not, but it is pretty cool," Susan Bones added. "Malfoy needed to be knocked down a peg or three, bully he is."
"Ugh, look," Samhain laid his hand in a motioning gesture to his books. "Can we just get back to studying-"
"Oh, hey, Kiara," a distracted voice called out. Brian approached the group, looking even more spaced out than usual, but somehow keeping his focus on the here and now. "I thought you were studying with us, today?"
"I was!" Kiara shouted suddenly in her nervousness and not having taken in the fast-paced conversation about her friends very well, making everyone jump and drawing the unwanted attention of the vulture faced Madame Pince, the librarian.
"QUIET!" Pince shriek-whispered.
"Sorry!" Kiara whispered back with a grimace before looking back at Brian, who had come to stand awkwardly beside her.
"Back off, Gates," Samhain warned, looking at Brian venomously.
"Cool off, bro, I'm just talking to my friend."
"She obviously doesn't want to talk to you, mate, so back off."
Kiara furrowed her brow at the now White-Kinghting Samhain, cocking her head to one side and wondering how in the world she gave him that impression. "It's okay, he's my friend."
"But-"
"Brian, I'm just- I'm taking James's advice about making more friends to help with my-my- y'know, my problem?" Kiara winced even as she said it, flushing as she realized she had admitted to having anxiety in front of everyone.
"Oh," Brian said simply, as if he wasn't expecting that answer, then grinned. "I was actually scared you were gonna go with that other thing I saw you say earlier."
"What?" Kiara asked, looking disturbed. "The thing-you saw me- Brian, what? Are you okay?"
"Other thing?" Susan laughed in confusion. "What other thing?"
"James told you to hang out with us to help you with your social anxiety?" Penelope asked, turning and swatting Samhain on the arm. "See, that Potter kid isn't as bad a mate as you think."
Well, yes, but also, no. James never told her to do it directly, but he had mentioned on occasion that getting around and talking to other people made socializing easier. Kiara, however, didn't say that out loud, and opted instead to nod at her enthusiastically, before balking instead. For what reason, Kiara will never know, James decided that was the time to strike. He came from around the corner of bookshelves, not hearing Penelope squeal, or seeing that she had gotten up to hug Kiara.
"I'm so happy you thought we were trustworthy enough to help you break out of your shell!" she cried. This caused a chain reaction that would follow Kiara for the rest of her life. Penelope jumping up had jolted Samhain, who was bowled over into the spacey eyed Brian, who, at some point, checked out of the conversation and was shoved over completely. He was pushed backwards, bounced of a bookshelf, and then toppled over Susan, who, unfortunately, was shoved into Parvati, who was then thrust into the lap of her sister Padma, who squealed and threw her hands out, hitting Daphne in the face, who pushed back to try to avoid the incoming hand...
Right into James, who caught the edge of her chair in his crotch as he had his hand out to try and swipe a loose strand of her hair.
"Not again!" James cried as he was impacted in the most pain-sensitive area, his body spasming in shock from the impact. He doubled over, and that's when the double whammy hit. He jolted down on himself and his face slammed into the table, hard. A sickening crack carried throughout the library, and the next think Kiara knew, he was face down on the table, half on top of Daphne as he sobbed.
"I can tathte blood," He whimpered pathetically. "Why do I tathte blood all a thudden?"
Daphne pulled him up by his shoulder and gasped at what they all saw. James's top front teeth had been broken in half, the bottom halves dropping out of his mouth while the top halves, shattered and fixing to fall out of his gums, streamed blood out of his mouth and now down his front. He looked at Kiara for an answer, but the grizzly display could only make her shudder.
"Fanks fer da vote of confidence dere, Doc!" he spat before looking at Daphne, who gave him a sympathetic look.
"Poor thing," she cooed, grabbing him by the shoulder. "You broke your teeth, James. Does anybody know a bone fixing charm?"
"Dun athk that," James whispered looking around suspiciously, even as everyone at the table shook their heads no. "He might be here. He might hear you."
"SHHHHH!" Pince interrupted, holding a finger to her lips and sneering at the table.
"Oh, you 'Thh!'" James shot back with a grumble. "Dun you thee whath happened here?!"
"He?" Padma asked, confused. "He who?"
"Lockhart," James answered with a shudder as he turned away from Pince. The girls at the table, Daphne included, sighed dreamily at the sound of the Professor's name, making James and, to his surprise, Samhain, roll their eyes. "Now I'm thorry I thaid it."
"Don't worry, Trouble," Daphne soothed, wiping a strand of James's shaggy, un-gelled mohawk out of his eyes. "We'll get you to Madame Pomfrey, the'll get you fixed up right."
"Just make thure we dun croth path with that thimp," James muttered as he let her loop his arm over her shoulders. "Wath thing I need ith fer muh jaw to end up wike Harry'th arm."
"We'll stay well away from him, I promise," Daphne laughed and snapped her fingers at Brian. "Hey, Spacey, help me drag your brother to the Medical Wing, yeah?"
"Huh?" Brian asked as he jerked himself out of his self-induced trance. "Oh, uh, yeah sure. Jeez, man, what the hell happened to you?"
…
It was down to crunch time, and while James was happy to have his teeth back(Hermione had been especially worried about them, since her parents apparently were dentists,) he was also worried they wouldn't get their last hair sample. His fears were unfounded, however, as he was sitting in the library, staring more through than at his transfiguration essay, when a hand tapped his shoulder. Looking up, he met eyes with a straight-faced Tracey Davis.
"Excuse me, Potter?"
"Yugh- I mean, yeah?" he asked, perking up immediately, unbelieving at the return of his luck, She had a fat, juicy, tempting looking strand of mousy auburn hair on her shoulder...
He himself couldn't believe he thought of a hair as fat, juicy, or tempting, either, so don't feel bad.
"You're good at Transfiguration, right?"
"Well, yeah," James nodded with a grin. "Beating Hermione in grade and everything, in fact."
"Very good," she praised stoically with a very British, almost robotic nod. "Can you help me out? I can't find anything about the history of the spell that turns a creature into an object."
"Oh, well, here, lemme show ya," James said happily, pulling his Transfiguration book out and flipping it to the appropriate page. "Page 127, third paragraph."
She leaned over his shoulder to read the passage, her round face peering at the page from behind her round, John Lennon-esque glasses. James felt himself grow hot in the face as the smell of her shampoo, which was floral and sweet(lilacs?) met his nose. James was beginning to worry about himself. Not a few years ago, girls were icky. Now here he was, appreciative of how their hair smelled, or how the curve of their cheeks seemed to frame their face in-
Focus, pal.
Tracey grinned, mumbled something to herself, and leaned back, losing all sense of that robotic demeanor she had earlier and adopting a more shy, girlish stance. "Thanks, Potter, I appreciate it. Nice memory you got there."
"Haha, hahaha, yeah, nice," James found himself tongue tied at her grin before shaking himself out of his reverie. He patted her on the shoulder, then took the opportunity to pluck her stray strand of hair from her robe. "Loose hair! Hahaha, yeah, no problemo, uh..."
"Tracy," she prompted with a thankful tone, blushing. "My name is Tracey."
"Right," James grinned in embarrassment, happily accepting the excuse she was given him, "Tracey Davis, right?"
She smiled and bobbed her shoulders a little bit, klooking pleased he had bothered to remember her name. "Yeah, that's me. I'll keep you in mind the next time I need help with more homework?"
"Uh, yeah, sure," James agreed, silently wondering what the hell was going on and what was happening to him recently. "Anytime, yeah?"
"Yeah," Tracey nodded before turning on her heel and walking away.
As soon as she was out of sight and earshot, James slumped into his seat and looked down at his body. "Listen, you," he chided, pointing at his chest admonishingly. "I dunno what the hell puberty has done to you, but you need to stop betraying me!"
…
With the hairs labeled and secured in little glass potion vials, the group could finally relax for the moment, easing into the holiday spirit. It was two weeks before the end of term and the school workload had miraculously lifted. James and Brian continued their holiday spirit campaign, strumming chords and crooning Christmas Carols at every meal. It appeared that the heir had gotten into the spirit of the holidays, as well, seeing how there hadn't been another attack to speak of.
James knew better than to think that everyone had decided that it was over. His fellow students, especially the muggleborn, all had a frenzied, calm sort fear in their eyes, and everyone refused to go out into the halls alone. It was less hopeful thinking and more like willful ignorance, a desire for the bad things to just go away. It made him mad, at first, before he realized just how powerless they were, how they all were. It wasn't like he could expect them to just jump up and at the problem, especially since nobody knew where or what the problem even was.
It left a black hole in the pit of his stomach. Last year, he and Harry and the others at least knew where to solve the problem. Now the problem was striking out at them, without leaving even a clue as to where it came from or where it went. It made him feel like the rest of his classmates; alone, scared, powerless.
He decided he hated that feeling and wanted nothing to do with it, making a solemn vow to do everything in his power to make it go away.
It was at lunch that Monday, two weeks before the end of the first term, when Ron, Harry, and Hermione slammed into the seats at the Ravenclaw's table. Ron slapped a sheaf of official looking parchment in front of James and stole a dinner roll off his plate, munching on the bread and motioning to the paper with his head. James rolled his eyes at the red head and took another steaming spoonful of stew before picking it up.
Join Me This Weekend For A Lovely Affair!
It Is My Solemn Duty And Absolute Joy As Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher To Help Teach The Younger Students Of
Hogwarts School For Witchcraft And Wizardry The Finer Points of...
You Guessed It, WAND DUELING!
We will be meeting in the Great Hall, with permission from the Headmaster, after dinner.
Bring your wands and your best dueling stances, and I hope to see you there for the start of our Great New Dueling Club!
-Signed, Dearly
Professor Gilderoy Lockhart,
O.o.M. 3rd Class,
5 Five Winner of Witch Weekly's Most Dazzling Smile Award
"'Signed, Dearly'?" James scoffed. "Nobody puts that on an official notice. And he even got the name of the school wrong!"
"No, he didn't," Hermione griped, snagging the notice from James's hands and scowling at him, then smiling at the parchment like it was a gift from God. "You're still jealous, I bet."
"Jealous?" James growled. "No. The dude damn near scrambled my brains and obliterated all the bones in Harry's body with his incompetent shenanigans, remember? And yes, he did get it wrong. It's Hogwarts School OF, not school FOR, see?"
"Might be entertaining to watch, if nothing else," Travis chuckled, pointing a fork speared with roast beef at James. "We won't learn anything, but we might get some ideas in how to utterly disgrace the bastard."
"Language!" Hermione hissed, swatting at Travis's arm. "And you three will do no such thing!"
"These three won't, Hermione, I promise," Kiara soothed with a small smile, making Hermione deflate for a moment in gratitude. "Because it'll be all four of us!"
James, Travis, and Brian erupted into cheers at her proclamation, enjoying every second of Hermione's scowl. James gave Kiara a one-armed hug. "I've never been prouder of you in my whole life, you know that, right?"
"I wouldn't mind jumping in on the action," Ron volunteered as he gobbled up another bread roll, now slathered in butter and honey. "Give my last two sickles to give the guy what for."
"You'll not!" Hermione huffed.
"I will," Ron disagreed.
"Atta boy!" James cried.
"No offense, Ron, but how do you think you can help?" Travis asked. "If I remember last year correctly, you aren't exactly... stealth material."
Ron deflated.
"Stealthy he may not be..." James trialed off the thought in consideration. "But he is a tactical genius. I still can't beat 'im in a game of chess. He could probably help with the strategy and implementation?"
"True," Travis conceded, to Ron's delight.
"Back on topic," Harry smiled, tapping the notice. "So we're all going for the laughs?"
"Hell yeah, man!"
For the first night of the first Dueling Club meeting more than half the school had showed up. It seemed the notion of being able to defend oneself, to have power given back to the hands of the students, seemed to invigorate everyone immensely. Most looked determined and excited, like they thought they were going to actually learn something.
The tables and the teacher's dais had been removed in lieu of a resplendent gilded stage in the center of the hall, decorated with phases of the moon and various ominous Norse runes. James balked at the gaudy display and wondered if Lockhart was hoping to inspire the students with Viking imagery or something. It may have worked, if now for the flowing violet tapestries that also hung down from the velvety black ceiling, making it look more like a medieval fashion show than a dueling club.
"I'm telling you, Brosef," James whispered to Bem. "It's a sham, there's nothing this guy can actually teach us. If they wanted us to learn anything, they'd have Flitwick up there teaching. Instead, they have this bumbling idiot prancing around looking good for the PR. Three to one odds says he has Daily Prophet reporters waiting in the shadows, looking for a photo op."
"Preaching to the choir here, Bezzie," the portly, taller Ravenclaw muttered, leaning over in his chair to whisper back. "And if that's the case, you and Harry'd better bug out; you don't want him to use you for another publicity stunt."
James paled at this revelation. "You, uh... you'll lemme know if you see anything, right, big man?"
"Of course," Bem nodded sagely and fist bumping his roommate. "You know I got you, Bezzie."
"I'll never get over you calling me that, pal."
"Hope you never do."
Lockhart chose, at that moment, to make his entrance. He marched onto the stage, bedecked in fine satin duelist's attire and a matching violet cape that hung over one shoulder, with little gold rope and tassels hanging from it. He looked at them all appreciatively... or maybe creepily, James couldn't be sure.
"Gather round, gather round!" he called out, motioning them all to come forward, toward the stage. "Can you all hear me? Can you all... see me?"
"Obviously," Fred and George snorted from the back. "You're on a stage, in the middle of the room!"
"Welcome!" Lockhart bellowed with a smile, holding his arms out in grandiose fashion before lowering his voice and ignoring the Weasley twins. "And good evening, ladies and gentlemen."
"Is this a duelist club or a Broadway show?" Travis asked as he picked up on what Fred and George were getting at with their heckling, eliciting a shower of giggles from the male parts of the gathering who knew what Broadway was.
"I thank you all for coming, looks like we have an excellent turnout for our first ever meeting!" Lockhart continued, ignoring Travis's jab and motioning behind him, where an ominously backlit and sneering Snape stood. "I have with me my lovely assistant, Professor Snape! He tells me he knows a little about the art and has sportingly agreed to help me show you all the finer points of how to duel! Not to worry, though, not a worry, you'll still have your Potions Professor when I'm done with him!"
"Maybe he can show you some finer points as well, Professor!" a Slytherin boy called out.
"I hope he does! That is why we're all here! To learn something!"
Despite this, Snape's lip was still curling. James guessed it was because yet another inept moron had been made DADA teacher over him.
"He looks gassed," Bem noted.
"Just thinking the same thing," James whispered back. "He's been vying for Lockhart's spot for years now, I've heard. He's probably angry that he's being trash talked by the lout he's jealous of. Though I bet we'd learn more from Snape killing him than him himself."
"Only thing I'm learning here is that purple ain't Lockhart's color," Travis whispered, making both chuckle. "If he doesn't get the heckling under control, the only thing we'll see him practice is a terrible comedy routine."
"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to host this little club to teach you all to defend yourselves as I myself have done, on countless occasions- for full details read my published works!"
"There's the shameless plug I was seeing," Brian muttered, garnering some weird looks.
James gave him a concerned look, then poked Seamus Finnegan. "Told you he would, now pay up!"
Seamus growled and forked over a gold piece as Lockhart continued. "Now, observe as we follow etiquette."
James held up his hand, looking to ask a question. Lockhart looked shocked, not expecting a question already, but smiled and pointed at him. "Yes, James? A question already? Very astute, m'boy, very astute, what can I enlighten you with?"
"Well, Professor, if I may ask, but what good is etiquette in a fight for your life? You're teaching us how duel to survive, right? I doubt many of us are looking to compete."
"I, er, well..."
"A very good question, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered... happily? James thought? Either way, it was the most pleasure James had ever seen on the Potion Professor's face, ever. "Perhaps you could enlighten him with an answer, Professor Lockhart?"
"Well, yes, in a fight for your life, you would best avoid pleasantries. But in an official setting, such as we are in now, we'd best observe the gentleman's way of initiating our contest."
"Gentleman's way?" Fred asked. "So... what about the woman's way?"
Lockhart gave a forced smile at the ridiculous but valid question. "The gentleman's and gentlewoman's way."
"So inclusive," an older Gryffindor girl sighed.
"Handsome, charming, and tolerant," her friend agreed.
"Yeah, real catch, he is," James quipped sarcastically.
"Now, we face each other," Lockhart urged his demonstration forward with an even more forced smile. "And bow."
And bow they did. Or, at least, Lockhart did. Snape stood there, on the opposite end of the stage with his arms crossed and a dead stare aimed at his colleague.
"Now, on the count of three, we will take aim and cast our spells. Not to kill, of course."
"Wouldn't bet on that," Harry laughed. Snape was now baring his teeth and staring at Lockhart with murderous intent.
"One-two-"
"Stupefy!" Snape cried, drawing his wand before Lockhart reached three, and with a blast of red light, Lockhart was blown from his feet and flung backwards. He landed at the far edge of the stage, almost toppling feet over head over it.
Cheers erupted from the Slytherins gathered around, and James and some Ravenclaws joined him. Lockhart was out, hard and cold. Snape waved his arm wordlessly, and the dumbling, dottering dolt shook himself awake. He groaned as he got to his feet, slowly, but with a forced grin on his face as he fixed his askew hair.
"Very good, Professor," he complimented, though obviously not pleased. "A bit underhanded, perhaps, but excellent wand work."
"Do you think he's alright?" Hermione cried.
"Who cares," Ron and Harry chorused.
"Hope he is," James griped. "I still need him intact to get my own revenge."
"As you can see, that was the Stunning Spell! You may have noticed how I was knocked out cold there- excellent show, Professor, excellent show. Now, how about a more sporting round two?"
"If you wish," Snape sneered.
"Right, now, on the count of three, we hold our wands out like so-" Lockhart held his wand out in front of in in a vague, awful attempt at low ready stance. "And one-two-three-"
"Expelliarmus," Snape said simply, without emotion, as he flicked his wrist nonchalantly. Lockhart's wand flung from his hand, and he looked down at his now empty hand in a state of shock.
"Ah, you fiendish dog!" Lockhart laughed, wagging a finger at Snape nervously, a wide, but sheepish smile on his face. "The Disarming Spell! Ahaha, you got me again."
"Was that more... sporting, that time, Professor?"
"Oh, yes, of course, Professor, of course!"
"Good," Snape sneered, and stalked off the stage with a swish of his cloaked robes. "Is that enough demonstration, or shall I continue this lesson in how not to duel?"
Lockhart nodded enthusiastically, eager to stop Snape from showing him up. "Yes, yes, we can move on to mock dueling in groups of two. Professor, if you wouldn't mind helping me sort them out-"
Lockhart grabbed Neville, teaming him up with Justin Finch-Fletchley. James, however, had caught sight of Snape, who was now marching right at their little group. Bem tapped James leg.
"Better find a good partner elsewhere," he muttered.
"Already on it, but thanks for the eagle eye, pal," James replied, ducking his slight frame into the masses, disappearing into the crowd.
"Anytime, Bezzie."
James was already halfway through the crowd when Snape reached the group and he winced when he stood over Harry and Ron. "Think it's best to break up the Dream Team," he said at them, and James winced harder, feeling sorry for leaving them behind, but also thankful to just get away himself. Harry had instinctively moved towards Hermione, but Snape shook his head with a hideous smile. "No, no, Potter. Weasley, you can team up with Finnegan, let the two arsonists in the school be contained to one another. Potter, you're with Malfoy."
James cringed, already knowing what Snape was up to. He was setting Harry up, he knew it. James figured Snape had planned this from the start, probably giving Malfoy a few private lessons in spell work to make Harry look bad.
"Looking for a partner, Trouble?"
"Trouble?" James squeaked, having been spooked from his ruminations. "Is that my new nickname?"
"Sure is, Trouble," Daphne Greengrass affirmed with a grin, punching him in the shoulder lightly with a smile. "I could use a bit of a challenge."
"Uh, sure," James looked over his shoulder, as Snape had made Hermione work with Bulstrode, Travis face Crabbe, and Brian was... staring through his opponent, an older Slytherin boy who looked like he wanted blood for dessert. Snape was now scanning the crowd, looking for James, no doubt, to force him to face off against whoever he had planned for him.
"Don't worry about it," Daphne assured him before batting her eyelashes at Lockhart. "Professor, can I claim Potter?"
"Well, of course," Lockhart shrugged and smiled, and James had never in his life imagined he'd ever be thankful to see the man, yet here he was….
"Oh, thank God," James heaved a sigh of relief.
"Is that everyone? Good! Now, as we showed you..."
"You're welcome," Daphne winked at him, both droning out whatever Lockhart was saying.
"You know, you're not so bad," James complimented her.
"You're not so bad yourself," she replied with a grin, her eyes looking him up and down.
"Well, thank you. On both accounts, by the way."
Her grin widened and her stance became even more relaxed. "Don't mention it. Tho, how'th yer teef?"
"Pretty good," James laughed, scratching his neck. "All thingth conthidered. Pomfrey's got them looking better'n new. So... shall we?"
"Sure, show me what you got."
"Wanna count down like a bunch of choads, or-"
"Stupefy!" Daphne incanted, launching James off his feet and sending him careening into the wall behind him. It wasn't powerful enough to knock him out cold like Snape's did to Lockhart, but damn.
"Oof," James coughed dryly as he propped himself up. "No counting down like gentleladies, then."
"Five points to Slytherin, Ms. Greengrass," Snape snarked as he walked by, sneering at James. "For excellent wand work. Take another five, for excellent timing. Could've put more… power behind it, though."
"We were supposed to all try to disarm our opponents, Ms. Greengrass," Lockhart chided. "On my count! Please, you two, pay attention!"
"Thank you, Professor," she smiled tersely at Snape, and then bowed her head to Lockhart. "I'm sorry Professor."
"Quite alright."
"Thank you, Professor," James added, giving Snape a playful, mocking wink.
"Sorry about that," Daphne sheepishly apologized as Snape walked away. "Wanted it to look believable."
"That why you pulled your punch?" James wheezed as she helped him up.
"Pretty much, yeah," admitted with a giggle. "But I won't lie, I think I may have enjoyed that a little too much."
"No worries, I probably deserved it."
She giggled, and James was surprised at how okay it felt for him to think it sounded musical. "Probably."
"Hey, look," James pointed at the rest of class. "They're all about to fight their rounds out."
They both watched as Lockhart corralled everyone to face off, holding their wands at the ready. Many faces had grim determination plastered on them, while others, like Neville, looked queasy.
"On the count of three," Lockhart instructed. "Try to disarm- just disarm, we don't want any accidents- one, two... three!"
Most of the class erupted with an almost universal roar of "EXPELLIARMUS!" A few, however, never made it that far. Malfoy went on the two count, much like Snape, and hit Harry square in the chest with a stunning spell. Harry flew backwards, but wasn't stunned, as he got on one knee in an instant.
"Rictumsempra!" Harry countered, thrusting his wand forward and hitting Draco in the stomach with the Tickling Spell. A bit childish, James surmised, but it was enough to immobilize Malfoy in fits of laughter.
"Tarantallegra!" Draco wheezed through his laughter, hitting Harry with a curse that forced him to dance in quickstep.
"Stop it!" Lockhart roared. "I said bloody stop! You are only supposed to Disarm!"
Snape, however, took action where Lockhart only sputtered. "Finite Incantatem," he muttered as he walked by Harry, making him thankfully stop dancing and Draco stopped wheezing. James and Daphne had to pull Millicent off Hermione, who had the smaller girl in a deadly headlock, making her face turn purple.
"Off of her, ya lug," James growled as he and Daphne combined struggled to get the large, bulky Slytherin's arm off Hermione's neck. "Dammit, I said let go! Let 'er go or I am not ever letting you cheat off my Charms homework ever again!"
Hermione whimpered as she was finally released, and James and Daphne helped her to her feet. Her face was mottled pale, gray, and purple as blood rushed back to her skin, and she almost swooned. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," James shook his head.
"Can I ask that you make good on your threat and never let her cheat off you again?"
"No, but my price certainly has doubled," James sneered at the girl, who huffed at him and walked away. "Thirty sickles, Bulstrode!"
A haze of green smoke had filled the Hall as the dust from the disastrous first round settled. Seamus was knocked out cold from... whatever it was Ron's wand had done to him, while Justin and Neville were both gasping for breath on the floor. Harry was just getting his bearings after having been stunned and then his legs essentially ripped out from under him, and Draco was still catching his own breath from the Tickle Attack. Kiara, who had been partnered with Pansy Parkinson, had apparently followed the rules and won, as Parkinson was now running around the Hall, screeching about where her designer wand had gone. Travis had to be pulled off his opponent, as he and Crabbe decided to settle differences with fists, and Brian stood stock still, head canted to one side and staring off into space while his opponent lay spread eagle, knocked clean out on the floor.
James really wanted to know how the heck that happened.
"Oh, dear," Lockhart tutted as he took in the scene before him. "Perhaps... we should show them the Shield Charm."
"You think?" George sneered at him as he wiped a grimy burn mark on his cheek.
"Let's have a volunteer pair-" Lockhart decided, looking around. "Ah, perhaps Mr. Fletchley and Mr. Longbottom-"
"Do you want to blow this Hall into space?" Snape asked incredulously. "Longbottom's ability to cause devastation with but the simplest spells are well documented. We'll be picking up pieces of Fletchley for the next ten years if we go through with that."
"Ah, of course," Lockhart nodded enthusiastically as Fletchley blanched, looking around for someone else.
"Neville's ten times the man you'll ever be with that attitude," James muttered under his breath, drawing a quirked eyebrow from Daphne but no other response.
"Perhaps Potter and Mr. Malfoy, Professor? Some wizards with substance?"
"Excellent idea!" Lockhart cried, the rest of the room backing up as he waved the two onto the center stage.
Lockhart proceeded to try and coach Harry through a Shield Charm, to no effect. He dropped his wand after trying to pull off some weird, over the top, complicated wiggling motion, while Snape merely stood beside Draco and was whispering in his ear.
"Professor..." Harry urged, panicking as Snape backed away from Draco and motioned for them to start. "Can you, uh... show me the blocking thing again?"
"Scared, Potter?" Draco laughed.
"Not on your life," James answered for him. "He's being an astute and detail-oriented student, unlike you, who couldn't even fully knock him out with a Stunning Spell!"
"Yeah," Harry agreed, James's quip steeling his spine. "You just wish I was."
"That's the spirit, Harry!" Lockhart cheered as he clapped him on the shoulder. "Just do what I did and you'll be fine?"
"What, drop my wand?" Harry asked incredulously to everyone's delight, but Lockhart was no longer listening, whistling as he backed away and motioning for them to get ready.
"On my go, one, two-"
"Serpensortia!" Draco roared, and light emitted from the tip of his wand, forming into an incredibly long and especially poisonous looking black snake. Screams erupted from the Hall as everyone backed away, except for James. It flopped onto the floor of the stage and reared back at Harry, getting ready to strike. James lurched forward to interfere but was held back by Daphne.
"Are you crazy?!" she asked.
"Have you met me?" James questioned back as he fought to break her grip but was floored by what happened next.
"Don't move, Potter," Snape muttered lazily as he stepped forward, smiling at the sight of Harry frozen in place by the snake. "I'll take care of it."
"Allow me!" Lockhart urged and brandished his wand. "Confringo!" With a loud BANG the floor beneath the snake exploded and it flew in the air, landing back on the stage. The spell had missed and it started hissing louder and looked even angrier than it had before. It turned to the closest person to it, who happened to be Justin Finch Fletchley, and sprang at him.
"Ntthhhisssiss," Harry called to it, making James's eyes bulge out of their sockets. "Nagatha clo mar zhizzziss."
The snake wheeled around and looked at Harry in what was probably shock, in terms of snake body language. It looked him up and down, then back at Justin for a moment.
"Nagh ack ithiss," Harry seemed to say as a warning. The snake seemed to... nod? And then fall limp on the floor, seemingly as docile as a garter snake, before slithering off to God knows where. Every eye was now on Harry, most in shock, but others... in anger. He himself looked up, proud of himself, before balking at the look Justin was giving him.
"What are you on about, Potter?" Justin screeched, lip trembling as he backed away, then ran out of the Hall, screaming, "The hell are you playing at?"