His lordship Chaos' fanfic has been sponsored by: Goblin-Oh's, the
breakfast cereal that eats *you* like a meal! (now with slime, snails or
puppydog tails inside!)
His lordship Chaos presents:
BLACK BAT STRUT
1 Chapter the Second: Shufflebump & Grind
The hotdog blitzkrieg not withstanding, Hogwarts was suddenly buzzing with more excitement than had been seen at last year's Yule Ball. All the students in their third year or above were talking about what they'd wear to the festival, what they were hoping to see or buy there, and if they were going to be taking a date with them. Girls were giggling and eyeballing some of the male students, and a number of the guys were busy asking some young ladies to be their date to the festival.
Even the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, which had Ginny anxious to no end since Harry & Cho would be playing close to each other (gulp!), took a backseat. And naturally, Malibu was appearing everywhere, trying to play cupid and get Ginny to ask Harry out to the festival, or the other way around.
Ginny finally snapped in her Potions class the Wednesday morning before the festival. Snape had yet to arrive in the dungeon, but most of the fourth- year Slytherins and Gryffindors had already assembled. Of course, all anyone could talk about was their expectations regarding the festival.
"I'm trying to see if Lee Jordan will ask me to go to the festival with him," one of Ginny's roommates said. "He's so cute, and I love how he gives the play-by-plays of the Quidditch games."
"It seems that everyone's turning this event into another Yule Ball," one Gryffindor boy sighed, shaking his head. "Why go through all this exasperation? We're just going to Hogsmeade to have fun, nothing more."
"Couldn't get a girl to say 'yes', could you, Sebastian?" a Slytherin chuckled.
Sebastian's eyebrow twitched. "Shut up."
"What about you, Ginny?" Everyone suddenly turned and looked at her, and Ginny shrank back a little. Her roommate was grinning from ear to ear in asking, "Do you have anyone you want to go to the festival with?"
(blushblushblushblush!!!)
Suddenly a voice directly behind her not-so-subtly coughed, "Harry!"
Taken completely by surprise, Ginny's cheeks went totally pink.
Just then, Snape, ever in his soured, scowling mood, breezed into the dungeon and the Potions class began with its usual dreaded assignments.
Ginny was still desperately trying to compose herself after becoming so flustered. It was common knowledge for most of her friends that she was head over heels in love with Harry (blush!), but no one had ever said it like that in public before! She was so embarrassed now! In fact, the only person she knew of who would brashly say a thing like that would be….
Ginny's heart sank as she felt something small, winged and hairy crawling onto her shoulder beneath her robes. A tiny, grinning bat face peeked out at her. "Miss me?"
"Malibu!" Ginny hissed. "What are you doing here? It's daytime, you'll get burned if you're caught!"
"Come on, you call this place cheery and sunlit?" Malibu said, gesturing with a wing to the rest of the dungeon. "Edgar Allen Poe wasn't as dark as this, my dear."
Ginny quickly scribbled another note down, trying to escape Snape's glare, and muttered, "Just what are you doing here?"
"Can't a vamp see what his friend does while he's usually napping?"
"Somehow I don't think you're here because you've missed me," Ginny said.
Malibu shrugged. "Point. Well, today I've been evaluating our lack of success in getting you and Harry together in time for the festival. We can't afford to have him with Cho or anyone else but you for Shufflebump's surprise concert. Sure, I was able to trick both of you into the Prefect's bathroom and lock you in there together…but I hadn't counted on that Ravenclaw girl to be bathing in there at the same time too.
"And then I tried slipping that mild love-at-first-sight elixir into Harry's cauldron during a Potions class. I was expecting that when he drank his potion for testing, the elixir would kick in about an hour later when you could be standing right in front of him, and he would ask you on a date to the festival."
Ginny glared at him. "I still can't believe you did that."
"Hey, how was I supposed to know that my elixir's Mungtung and his potion's Essence Of Kappa Named Bob were such explosive catalysts when mixed?" Malibu protested his innocence. "I mean, it's not like that fiery cloud of vapour permanently erased that scar on his forehead. It's reappeared already!"
"But his eyebrows haven't!" Ginny hissed, growing exasperated as she tried not to garner Snape's unwanted attention. As it was, Snape was starting to cast very annoyed looks in her direction. At this rate he'd be gravitating towards her cauldron to check up on her—and if he could, belittle her in front of everyone else.
Malibu rolled his eyes. "All right, I admit that plan had a few flaws, but at least we learned from it and decided against any further use of elixirs."
"What's this 'we' thing?" Ginny dryly asked. "You're the one who's conjuring up these schemes and going through with them!"
"And I've been busting my blood-sucking butt trying to hook you two up," Malibu said. "It's exhausting work, but we're getting closer to victory, I'm sure! I mean, look at when I spent all of last week whispering into Harry's ear while he slept, talking about how cute you were and how he should ask you to the festival…but apparently he just had weird dreams about playing Quidditch against submarine sandwiches riding brooms. Strange guy to be fluffing your cookies, you know that?
"Of course, there was also Saturday's failed attempt where I managed to conspire with Draco to stage a fit of jealous rage and kidnap you. We would have featured Harry dramatically rescuing you…but that backfired when Draco got jealous and kidnapped Harry instead, and we had to rescue him from Draco's…er, really flexible tongue….
"And who could forget about yesterday, when I tried perform that memory charm on him and block his feelings for Cho, but instead made him forget all about the letter 'o'—"
Ginny nearly snapped her quill in half. "Malibu, just forget it!" she hissed, on the verge of tears. "Yes, I like Harry, but there's no chance he's going to ask me to the festival! And the only thing you're doing is making me paranoid that if Harry ever finds out, he'll never speak to me again. As it is, he probably thinks I'm stalking him! Just drop it!"
Malibu looked at her, utterly surprised and confused. "But—"
"Go away," she said, trying to focus on her notes instead. "Just go away and stop trying to interfere with my life. I never asked you to come to Hogwarts anyways."
What followed was a moment of very unpleasant, strained silence. Then with a very subdued, "Tu madre", Malibu managed to climb down her back and take off, flapping his wings out of the dungeon. The second he was gone, Ginny felt horrible for snapping at him. But when she risked a glance over her shoulder, she couldn't see him anywhere.
"Are you paying attention, Miss Weasley?" came Snape's unimpressed voice.
Ginny jerked her head around and nodded, trying to focus on the lesson instead. She managed that with only mixed results at best.
* * *
Malibu was nowhere to be found after Potions class, and after a few hours of fruitless searching, Ginny glumly shuffled back into the Gryffindor common room. Now she felt twice as bad, because not only Harry (too depressed to blush) was probably thinking ill of her, but now Malibu was the same way.
However, not too many people noticed her forlorn expression, caught up in the Hogsmeade festival fervour. With the celebration being not three days away, on a Saturday night no less, most of the students were lucky to keep their minds on their studies.
"Zonko's is bound to have all sorts of new gags on display for this!" Lee Jordan sighed wistfully as he reclined back in his chair.
"And Honeydukes too!" Dean Thomas added. "I can't wait to wreak all sorts of havoc on everyone."
Sitting across from Lee and Dean, Ron grinned and chuckled, "You know, this reminds me of that time you put those Ashwinder eggs down Draco's pants last year, Harry, and they spontaneously combusted in the middle of Potions class."
"Serves him right," Harry said, shaking his head. He was sitting on one of the sofas, his legs on the coffee table. "Bet that's the last time he ever says his loins are on fire for me."
"Poor, poor Harry," Seamus Finnigan laughed as he sat down alongside Ron. "The only date you could even hope to get for the festival is Draco. That's scraping the bottom of the barrel, buddy! And last year it was only blind luck that landed you Parvati at the last minute for the Yule Ball."
Harry grew noticeably agitated at that, because now Ron was laughing along with the others. "I am not that pathetic when it comes to dating!" he protested. "Hey, I'm one of the most famous students here. I've fought Voldemorte—"
(Wince!)
"—I've fought basilisks, and I did that whole Triwizard Tournament."
"And yet he can't get a date for something as simple as a local festival," Ron chuckled. He could only speak so smugly since he and Hermione had become quite the item not three weeks prior. "Face it, Harry, you're going down as the greatest single guy in Hogwarts history."
Harry's face grew even more flustered, and he glared at Ron. "If I wanted to—IF—then I could get anyone I asked."
Lee and Dean nodded their heads in mock agreement. "Sure, you could," they chorused.
"Hey, what's got ol' Scarface riled up?" George remarked as he and Fred strolled into the common room. He gestured to Harry. "Still mad about that eyebrow incident in Potions?"
Harry glowered at everyone in the room. "Believe me, that's the least of my problems right now."
"Oh, how so?" Fred asked.
Lee thumbed over to Harry. "He can't get a date for the festival. Pretty much everyone who's going to Hogsmeade this weekend is going in a group or as a pair. Either way, Harry here gets left out."
"Ouch. You poor sot," George said, patting Harry on the shoulder. "Well, can't win all the time. Fred and I would invite you to hang with us, but we're going out with Katie and Angelina. Don't mind, do you?"
"I can handle getting a date for the festival," Harry said, on the edge of going from annoyed to just plain irate. "So what if Cho happens to be dating that girl from Hufflepuff just to make Lavender Brown jealous? It's not a problem, I can get myself a date if I wanted to."
Fred, George, Lee, Dean, Seamus and Ron all smirked and gave Harry pointed stares, and he shrank back in his chair. Ginny just quietly stood to the side, wanting to jump in and defend Harry, but right then she just didn't have the enthusiasm to do anything aside from watch.
Harry looked from one grinning fact to the next, on the verge of panic. Just when he thought his best bet was to point behind everyone, shout, "Look out! It's Voldemorte!" and run while their heads were turned, he saw Ginny. A near deranged, hopeful smile appeared on his face.
"Ginny!" he exclaimed, waving her over. "I didn't see you there."
Ginny nearly choked on the air she was breathing, and dropped her satchel of books onto her toes. The other guys in the room slowly turned and looked at her pleasantly enough, but it was Harry's face (blush!) that was making her feel her ears turning pink. Very quietly she padded into the middle of the common room, staring at Harry (blush!) and trying to somehow hide behind the coffee table.
"You're a fourth-year, so you can go to Hogsmeade too, right?" Harry asked.
Ginny shyly nodded. (blushblushblush!)
Harry flashed her the most incredible smile she had ever seen. "Want to come with me to the festival—that is, unless you were going with someone else. But if not, we can make a date of it! What do you think, Ginny?"
(FAINT!)
"Ginny? Ginny? Um…Ron, maybe we should call Madame Pomfrey."
* * *
When Ginny came to again in the infirmary, she found her face was still as red as her hair…and she also found Malibu sitting at the foot of her bed, just out of reach from the beam of afternoon sunlight streaming through a nearby window. Still groggy and excited from what she could last recall, she wasn't able to say much.
"I was up in the common room chandelier; I saw everything," Malibu said. His voice wasn't harsh, but still colder than Ginny had ever heard it before. "So, looks like you and Harry are going to the festival after all. And you managed it without my help."
Ginny sat up in her bed. "Malibu, I—"
"No need to say anything, Ginny," he said, cutting her off. "I was probably out of line anyways. Besides, Hogwarts is starting to bore me. Nothing but a tedium of classes and homework, and you're all asleep during my best hours. No, I'll probably venture back over to New Zealand, go spelunking in some volcanic craters, wrestle Mokele Mobembe in the jungles and surf a few midnight waves. Been meaning to have something of a vacation to myself anyways. Just wanted to let you know before I took off, so you wouldn't do something stupid like worry about me."
Ginny's eyes widened, and though she tried to get a word in edgewise, Malibu stood and continued without giving her the chance. "Well, best be off early now. It's going to be a long trip, so I really shouldn't dawdle around here with you kids. Later."
With that, he turned and made ready to depart. However, Ginny managed to stammer out, "B-But it's still daylight outside."
Malibu paused, then looked outside the window at the sunny afternoon. "Um…I knew that. Well, I can spend the next few hours psyching myself up for my night flight. Enjoy the festival with Harry, Ginny."
That time, Ginny was unable to say anything to stop him, and Malibu left the infirmary moments before Madame Pomfrey scuttled in to check up on her. Ginny knew she wouldn't have to worry about Malibu getting caught in the school anymore, or her being involved in another of his deranged plans. Finally, her fourth year could finally settle down and become relatively uneventful.
That still didn't make Ginny feel any better.
* * *
That night in The Three Broomsticks, Malibu the vampire, in a severe case of depression, had reverted into doing what he did best. Which was essentially talking for hours on end to everyone around him.
"I'm gonna get reprimanded for this for sure," he groaned, bonking his head against the tavern table repeatedly. On either side of him, Hagrid and Lupin were busy trying to act nonchalant. "All I was supposed to do was just watch her and make sure nothing out of the ordinary tried to sink its talons into her. Now she hates me! Last I checked, it's kind of hard to be an incognito bodyguard when someone hates you. So much for this year's Christmas bonus."
"Eh, don' let it get yer down," Hagrid said, slapping Malibu on the back—and sending Malibu right into a bowl of pretzels in the process.
"Who said I'm letting this get me down? I'm going to get drunk, and then worry about tomorrow whenever it comes!" Malibu said, raising his stein in the air.
"But that's mineral water yer drinking," Hagrid said. "Ya can't drunk on that."
"Actually, he can," Lupin sighed. "Mineral water for some vampires is like taking shots of what Muggles refer to as Tequila."
Malibu took a long swig from his stein. "At least this one comes with a little umbrella instead of a worm!"
Hagrid chuckled, ordered a blood-flavoured lollipop for Malibu, then asked, "So are yeh both workin' fer the Ministry a' Mystery, or what now?"
Lupin shook his head. "That's a secret, Hagrid, but feel free to believe whatever you want to if it'll make you feel better."
Hagrid chugged down his Butterbeer. "I'm na sure, really. I mean, you n' Malibu work fer the same guys. Don' know anyone who'd hire a werewolf and a vamp."
"Doesn't matter anyways," Malibu muttered. "I only took this bodyguard assignment because Wolfwood told me to. He and Dumbledore go way back. This was a personal favour between them."
"Malibu, once again you're saying too much," Lupin muttered, kicking Malibu's shin underneath the table. "I'd rather you just concentrate on getting drunk on the mineral water, rather than expound on our trade secrets."
Malibu sniffled and pushed aside his stein of mineral water. "Sorry. I mean, I know why Dumbledore might be worried about Ginny; she was exposed to that diary of You-Know-Who, so she could make for an easy target again. Who knows if there aren't any hidden after-effects from her time with Tom Riddle?"
"Should there be anythin' we need ta be worryin' about?" Hagrid asked, suddenly a little more wary than before.
Lupin's chin was propped up by his fist, his brow furrowed as he thought it over. "My associates and I can't find anything. This Hogsmeade festival would seem a ripe target, but as far as we know You-Know-Who's leaving it alone. Maybe because he knows we'd be automatically suspicious of it, and guard it closer than anything else."
"Didn't help much at the Triwizard Tournament from what I hear," Malibu sighed. "Damn, I'm out another pint. Rosmerta, more mineral water! And don't be stingy on the blood-covered beernuts!"
"Yeh sure it's all right fer him ta be like this?" Hagrid murmured to Lupin.
Lupin sighed and shook his head. "You should have seen him a year ago at that Irish pub over in Dublin. Drank too much Rum and O-Negative, then challenged every last leprechaun there to a rugby match…in the pub…and he was the only opposing team member."
Hagrid boggled, and stared back down at the vampire, who was currently trying to score a nibble on the nearby coat rack's neck. "What happened next?"
"Before or after Malibu got the two of us banned from Ireland later that night?"
"I don't think I wanna know, ta be honest."
Lupin nodded. "Wise choice."
The three of them talked strategies and tactics for a few more hours, and then parted ways. Lupin returned to the inn he and Sirius were staying at in the town (there would be no more full moons for another week at least), and Hagrid went back to Hogwarts. Malibu wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but before the night was out he had somehow lost his boxer shorts, wound up in Knockturn Alley, and become the proud winner of sixteen galleons and a billygoat.
He stumbled into a random seedy bar, not entirely drunk but certainly nauseous after having consumed a few dozen pints of mineral water. More than anything, what he needed to do was use the bathroom.
"Well, I suppose I should be getting back to Ginny after this," he sighed.
For as awkward as it would be, he had an assignment and he wasn't about to forego that paycheque. He could just hang there from the ceiling shadows, and she wouldn't be any wiser. Best thing for both of them, really, Malibu thought. She had Harry for the festival, and he could have some peace of mind.
However, just as Malibu left the bathroom, he noted that one of the private rooms at the far end of the hall had left its door partially open. A thin crack of light was painting the wall, and the voices of whomever were inside seemed to be very lively. At first, Malibu was ready to dismiss this completely, having better things to do. Then he remembered that this was Knockturn Alley, known for its disreputable clientele. If the people in that private room were up to something, the world would probably be better off if he knew what it was.
Malibu inched closer towards the door.
"I'm telling you, the Master's plan is nothing short of brilliant!" an excited, shrill voice exclaimed from inside the room. "No one involved with Dumbeldore knows what we've planned, and no one in the Ministry can prevent us from carrying this mission out. Our Dark Lord is assured victory!"
Malibu stifled a burp and pressed his back against the wall, listening intently. He'd had enough experience in the past to know exactly with whom he was dealing. Only a few people ever used such specific vocabulary words as 'Dark Lord' or 'Master', or hissed Dumbledore's name with that much spite.
"Death Eaters," he muttered to himself. Then he nearly gagged when he caught a whiff of his breath and discovered that he reeked of artificially enhanced, fruit-flavoured water.
Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, he quickly turned into a bat and hung upside-down next to the doorframe, where he was able to eavesdrop and peer inside the room.
No less than ten Death Eaters were seated at the circular table inside.
"Come now, I dare you to find a better way to take out an entire crop of Hogwarts' best and brightest," stated a voice so callous and cold, it could have only belonged to Lucius Malfoy. "No one knows we infiltrated Shufflebump and seized control of the band members. Hell, Nott has been performing with them courtesy of the Polyjuice potion for four months now."
"Certainly the Master showed incredible foresight in attacking Shufflebump before the festival was ever made public," another Death Eater said. Malibu couldn't see his face. "It would not surprise me to learn our Dark Lord himself helped arrange for Shufflebump to perform at the festival, just for this specific purpose."
"Then why do you look so pale and sweaty, Avery?" Lucius savagely asked.
Avery growled and said something that really shouldn't be repeated in a fanfic that's only rated PG. But suffice to say, it was rather unpleasant and involved multiple syllables. "It's happening too easily, that's what. I can't help but think Dumbledore's forces are simply biding their time, waiting for us to spring the trap."
"Bah, you give that grizzled old fart too much credit," Lucius snorted. He leaned back in his chair. "By this time three nights hence, every single Hogwarts student who goes to listen to Shufflebump will get a powerful Imperius curse instead of some sappy love-inducing ballad. Think of how many young wizards and witches we will have instantly recruited to turn against their teachers; their parents; the very people who are trying to protect them."
Many of the Death Eaters nodded their heads in agreement.
Avery failed to be as impressed as his colleagues. "If it's so perfect," he countered, "then why is the Master not making an appearance himself? I hear that Potter boy will be there; it's a perfect chance to kill him. So why does the Dark Lord hesitate to show up personally?"
Right then, Lucius let loose his hand and slapped Avery across the face. "Snivelling coward," he hissed. "You dare to call yourself a Death Eater? I'll be sure to express your doubts to the Master when we finish this."
Avery paled considerably. "I…I didn't mean it that way, Lucius, no, not at all."
Lucius gave the man a very condescending look. "I'm sure you didn't." Abruptly he paused and took a deep sniff of the air. "Anyone else smell mineral water?"
Malibu's eyes widened, and he promptly clamped both wings over his mouth. The other other Death Eaters gathered around the table all tried sniffing the air for the scent, but in the end they decided it was just some aroma wafting out from the other side of the tavern.
"Well, doesn't matter," Lucius resumed. "Victory will be assured, and once more we will be feared as before. You all have your tasks to complete; from here on in, we work independent. Send no notices to each other, lest we be discovered. Sacrifice whatever you must to ensure your part of the plan is ready."
The Death Eaters murmured an agreement, then all made some ceremonial gesture and began to rise from their table.
"And remember," Lucius said. "We have only three days, so the hourglass sand is running."
Malibu remained very still as the Death Eaters walked underneath him, many disapparating or using special portkeys to vanish from the tavern without being detected. A few like Lucius strolled out to make a public appearance, and then left on foot.
Once he was certain the coast was clear, Malibu let go of the rafters, flipped over and transformed back into a vampire, landing perfectly on human feet. "Bugger me," he muttered, staring into the now empty private room. "So the festival is a trap after all. Well, they're not going to get away with it, that's for damned sure."
That said, Malibu dramatically spun around and exclaimed. "I've got to stop them! But first…I need to use the little vampire's room."
And off he shuffled to relieve himself of the gallons of mineral water he had consumed that night. After having a lengthy conversation with the local toilet stall, a somewhat refreshed Malibu re-emerged. "There we go, much better," he remarked, drawing in a deep breath of air.
That was immediately followed by a sharp blow to his head, which left Malibu crumpled and unconscious on the floor.
* * *
Once Malibu managed to regain consciousness, he found his hands tied behind his back, and his chest and ankles tied to the chair he was currently sitting in. The chamber was cool and damp, dimly-lit with scattered candelabra, and Malibu could hear water dripping all around. More than likely someone's dungeon or secret cave lair.
Why couldn't villains ever take their captured prisoners to a four-star hotel for interrogation?
"So, you've stumbled across our little plan, have you?"
Malibu turned his head as he saw someone shuffle into the candlelight. The guy was a Death Eater, no mistaking that given his distinctly-coloured hood and robes. He was short and skinny, his skin wrinkled and hanging off his face, and he had patches of greyish hair scattered on his head.
"Welcome," he said. His voice was low and somewhat scratchy. "I must confess, I've never tortured a vampire before. My name is McNair." He gestured to a hulking brute of a wizard suddenly standing behind him. "And this here is my assistant, Kitkat."
One of Malibu's eyebrows went up. "Kitkat? Oooh, I smell copyright infringement."
McNair paused for a few moments, then warily said to Kitkat, "Perhaps that was the scent Malfoy smelled earlier tonight." To Malibu he said, "And just what is this 'copyright infringement'? Some sort of Muggle cuisine?"
Malibu stayed deadpan. "Yeeeaaah," he dryly agreed. "It's food. Almost as good as an MLT: a Mooncalf, Lettuce & Tomato sandwich. If the Mooncalf meat is succulent and done just right, with a layering of garlic honey mustard, it's so…."
His voice trailed off as he noted the particularly sour expressions on McNair and Kitkat's faces. "Should I stop talking right about now?" he asked.
McNair nodded, reaching for a table displaying a wide assortment of surgical tools crafted from silver, spellbooks and wooden stakes. "YES."
Malibu shrank down in his chair. "Sorry. Just give me another chance; I'll be a better prisoner, I promise."
"Just shut up, and I will be happy," McNair stated. "Now then, where shall we begin, Mister…?"
"Malibu," Malibu said.
"Ah, Mister Malibu, is it?"
Malibu shook his head. "Um, no, it's just Malibu. Not a surname, not a first name. Just Malibu."
"I'm quite ready to call you cannon fodder, if you continue to annoy me like this," McNair said grumpily. "Now then, Malibu, it is necessary that we learn how much you know of our plans, and who you might have told them to. Not to mention the fact that the Ministry of Magic does not employ vampires, which makes us very curious as to what sort of agency you work for."
He pulled out a syringe, a thick plume of smoke wafting out from the tip of the needle. "We'll start with a liberal dose of Veritasum. Since drinking it does not affect vampires, as your digestive systems reject it almost instantly, I shall have to inject it directly into your blood, where it is guaranteed to reach your brain."
Malibu's eyes widened as he saw the candlelight reflect off the needle.
With a malevolent grin, McNair started towards Malibu. "Now this will probably hurt a lot, so Kitkat will hold you down. And then, my dear Malibu, you can tell us everything…."
[End of Chapter the Second.]
Obligatory Disclaimer bit: Harry Potter and all its related characters, spells, locations animals, monsters, et all, carpe diem and ipso facto are the property of J.K. Rowling, and should thusly be credited to her. With the exception of Malibu the vampire; I'm not sure anyone would want to take credit for bringing him into this world….
METMA Mandy and her challenge comes courtesy of the letters H, P, and the number 28. Check out her website at: www.geocities.com/metmamandy/ and see why magic and magical girls were not meant to be spliced together in ill- begotten crossovers.
Comments, praises, bribes or Howlers can be owl-mailed to: hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com
His lordship Chaos presents:
BLACK BAT STRUT
1 Chapter the Second: Shufflebump & Grind
The hotdog blitzkrieg not withstanding, Hogwarts was suddenly buzzing with more excitement than had been seen at last year's Yule Ball. All the students in their third year or above were talking about what they'd wear to the festival, what they were hoping to see or buy there, and if they were going to be taking a date with them. Girls were giggling and eyeballing some of the male students, and a number of the guys were busy asking some young ladies to be their date to the festival.
Even the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, which had Ginny anxious to no end since Harry & Cho would be playing close to each other (gulp!), took a backseat. And naturally, Malibu was appearing everywhere, trying to play cupid and get Ginny to ask Harry out to the festival, or the other way around.
Ginny finally snapped in her Potions class the Wednesday morning before the festival. Snape had yet to arrive in the dungeon, but most of the fourth- year Slytherins and Gryffindors had already assembled. Of course, all anyone could talk about was their expectations regarding the festival.
"I'm trying to see if Lee Jordan will ask me to go to the festival with him," one of Ginny's roommates said. "He's so cute, and I love how he gives the play-by-plays of the Quidditch games."
"It seems that everyone's turning this event into another Yule Ball," one Gryffindor boy sighed, shaking his head. "Why go through all this exasperation? We're just going to Hogsmeade to have fun, nothing more."
"Couldn't get a girl to say 'yes', could you, Sebastian?" a Slytherin chuckled.
Sebastian's eyebrow twitched. "Shut up."
"What about you, Ginny?" Everyone suddenly turned and looked at her, and Ginny shrank back a little. Her roommate was grinning from ear to ear in asking, "Do you have anyone you want to go to the festival with?"
(blushblushblushblush!!!)
Suddenly a voice directly behind her not-so-subtly coughed, "Harry!"
Taken completely by surprise, Ginny's cheeks went totally pink.
Just then, Snape, ever in his soured, scowling mood, breezed into the dungeon and the Potions class began with its usual dreaded assignments.
Ginny was still desperately trying to compose herself after becoming so flustered. It was common knowledge for most of her friends that she was head over heels in love with Harry (blush!), but no one had ever said it like that in public before! She was so embarrassed now! In fact, the only person she knew of who would brashly say a thing like that would be….
Ginny's heart sank as she felt something small, winged and hairy crawling onto her shoulder beneath her robes. A tiny, grinning bat face peeked out at her. "Miss me?"
"Malibu!" Ginny hissed. "What are you doing here? It's daytime, you'll get burned if you're caught!"
"Come on, you call this place cheery and sunlit?" Malibu said, gesturing with a wing to the rest of the dungeon. "Edgar Allen Poe wasn't as dark as this, my dear."
Ginny quickly scribbled another note down, trying to escape Snape's glare, and muttered, "Just what are you doing here?"
"Can't a vamp see what his friend does while he's usually napping?"
"Somehow I don't think you're here because you've missed me," Ginny said.
Malibu shrugged. "Point. Well, today I've been evaluating our lack of success in getting you and Harry together in time for the festival. We can't afford to have him with Cho or anyone else but you for Shufflebump's surprise concert. Sure, I was able to trick both of you into the Prefect's bathroom and lock you in there together…but I hadn't counted on that Ravenclaw girl to be bathing in there at the same time too.
"And then I tried slipping that mild love-at-first-sight elixir into Harry's cauldron during a Potions class. I was expecting that when he drank his potion for testing, the elixir would kick in about an hour later when you could be standing right in front of him, and he would ask you on a date to the festival."
Ginny glared at him. "I still can't believe you did that."
"Hey, how was I supposed to know that my elixir's Mungtung and his potion's Essence Of Kappa Named Bob were such explosive catalysts when mixed?" Malibu protested his innocence. "I mean, it's not like that fiery cloud of vapour permanently erased that scar on his forehead. It's reappeared already!"
"But his eyebrows haven't!" Ginny hissed, growing exasperated as she tried not to garner Snape's unwanted attention. As it was, Snape was starting to cast very annoyed looks in her direction. At this rate he'd be gravitating towards her cauldron to check up on her—and if he could, belittle her in front of everyone else.
Malibu rolled his eyes. "All right, I admit that plan had a few flaws, but at least we learned from it and decided against any further use of elixirs."
"What's this 'we' thing?" Ginny dryly asked. "You're the one who's conjuring up these schemes and going through with them!"
"And I've been busting my blood-sucking butt trying to hook you two up," Malibu said. "It's exhausting work, but we're getting closer to victory, I'm sure! I mean, look at when I spent all of last week whispering into Harry's ear while he slept, talking about how cute you were and how he should ask you to the festival…but apparently he just had weird dreams about playing Quidditch against submarine sandwiches riding brooms. Strange guy to be fluffing your cookies, you know that?
"Of course, there was also Saturday's failed attempt where I managed to conspire with Draco to stage a fit of jealous rage and kidnap you. We would have featured Harry dramatically rescuing you…but that backfired when Draco got jealous and kidnapped Harry instead, and we had to rescue him from Draco's…er, really flexible tongue….
"And who could forget about yesterday, when I tried perform that memory charm on him and block his feelings for Cho, but instead made him forget all about the letter 'o'—"
Ginny nearly snapped her quill in half. "Malibu, just forget it!" she hissed, on the verge of tears. "Yes, I like Harry, but there's no chance he's going to ask me to the festival! And the only thing you're doing is making me paranoid that if Harry ever finds out, he'll never speak to me again. As it is, he probably thinks I'm stalking him! Just drop it!"
Malibu looked at her, utterly surprised and confused. "But—"
"Go away," she said, trying to focus on her notes instead. "Just go away and stop trying to interfere with my life. I never asked you to come to Hogwarts anyways."
What followed was a moment of very unpleasant, strained silence. Then with a very subdued, "Tu madre", Malibu managed to climb down her back and take off, flapping his wings out of the dungeon. The second he was gone, Ginny felt horrible for snapping at him. But when she risked a glance over her shoulder, she couldn't see him anywhere.
"Are you paying attention, Miss Weasley?" came Snape's unimpressed voice.
Ginny jerked her head around and nodded, trying to focus on the lesson instead. She managed that with only mixed results at best.
* * *
Malibu was nowhere to be found after Potions class, and after a few hours of fruitless searching, Ginny glumly shuffled back into the Gryffindor common room. Now she felt twice as bad, because not only Harry (too depressed to blush) was probably thinking ill of her, but now Malibu was the same way.
However, not too many people noticed her forlorn expression, caught up in the Hogsmeade festival fervour. With the celebration being not three days away, on a Saturday night no less, most of the students were lucky to keep their minds on their studies.
"Zonko's is bound to have all sorts of new gags on display for this!" Lee Jordan sighed wistfully as he reclined back in his chair.
"And Honeydukes too!" Dean Thomas added. "I can't wait to wreak all sorts of havoc on everyone."
Sitting across from Lee and Dean, Ron grinned and chuckled, "You know, this reminds me of that time you put those Ashwinder eggs down Draco's pants last year, Harry, and they spontaneously combusted in the middle of Potions class."
"Serves him right," Harry said, shaking his head. He was sitting on one of the sofas, his legs on the coffee table. "Bet that's the last time he ever says his loins are on fire for me."
"Poor, poor Harry," Seamus Finnigan laughed as he sat down alongside Ron. "The only date you could even hope to get for the festival is Draco. That's scraping the bottom of the barrel, buddy! And last year it was only blind luck that landed you Parvati at the last minute for the Yule Ball."
Harry grew noticeably agitated at that, because now Ron was laughing along with the others. "I am not that pathetic when it comes to dating!" he protested. "Hey, I'm one of the most famous students here. I've fought Voldemorte—"
(Wince!)
"—I've fought basilisks, and I did that whole Triwizard Tournament."
"And yet he can't get a date for something as simple as a local festival," Ron chuckled. He could only speak so smugly since he and Hermione had become quite the item not three weeks prior. "Face it, Harry, you're going down as the greatest single guy in Hogwarts history."
Harry's face grew even more flustered, and he glared at Ron. "If I wanted to—IF—then I could get anyone I asked."
Lee and Dean nodded their heads in mock agreement. "Sure, you could," they chorused.
"Hey, what's got ol' Scarface riled up?" George remarked as he and Fred strolled into the common room. He gestured to Harry. "Still mad about that eyebrow incident in Potions?"
Harry glowered at everyone in the room. "Believe me, that's the least of my problems right now."
"Oh, how so?" Fred asked.
Lee thumbed over to Harry. "He can't get a date for the festival. Pretty much everyone who's going to Hogsmeade this weekend is going in a group or as a pair. Either way, Harry here gets left out."
"Ouch. You poor sot," George said, patting Harry on the shoulder. "Well, can't win all the time. Fred and I would invite you to hang with us, but we're going out with Katie and Angelina. Don't mind, do you?"
"I can handle getting a date for the festival," Harry said, on the edge of going from annoyed to just plain irate. "So what if Cho happens to be dating that girl from Hufflepuff just to make Lavender Brown jealous? It's not a problem, I can get myself a date if I wanted to."
Fred, George, Lee, Dean, Seamus and Ron all smirked and gave Harry pointed stares, and he shrank back in his chair. Ginny just quietly stood to the side, wanting to jump in and defend Harry, but right then she just didn't have the enthusiasm to do anything aside from watch.
Harry looked from one grinning fact to the next, on the verge of panic. Just when he thought his best bet was to point behind everyone, shout, "Look out! It's Voldemorte!" and run while their heads were turned, he saw Ginny. A near deranged, hopeful smile appeared on his face.
"Ginny!" he exclaimed, waving her over. "I didn't see you there."
Ginny nearly choked on the air she was breathing, and dropped her satchel of books onto her toes. The other guys in the room slowly turned and looked at her pleasantly enough, but it was Harry's face (blush!) that was making her feel her ears turning pink. Very quietly she padded into the middle of the common room, staring at Harry (blush!) and trying to somehow hide behind the coffee table.
"You're a fourth-year, so you can go to Hogsmeade too, right?" Harry asked.
Ginny shyly nodded. (blushblushblush!)
Harry flashed her the most incredible smile she had ever seen. "Want to come with me to the festival—that is, unless you were going with someone else. But if not, we can make a date of it! What do you think, Ginny?"
(FAINT!)
"Ginny? Ginny? Um…Ron, maybe we should call Madame Pomfrey."
* * *
When Ginny came to again in the infirmary, she found her face was still as red as her hair…and she also found Malibu sitting at the foot of her bed, just out of reach from the beam of afternoon sunlight streaming through a nearby window. Still groggy and excited from what she could last recall, she wasn't able to say much.
"I was up in the common room chandelier; I saw everything," Malibu said. His voice wasn't harsh, but still colder than Ginny had ever heard it before. "So, looks like you and Harry are going to the festival after all. And you managed it without my help."
Ginny sat up in her bed. "Malibu, I—"
"No need to say anything, Ginny," he said, cutting her off. "I was probably out of line anyways. Besides, Hogwarts is starting to bore me. Nothing but a tedium of classes and homework, and you're all asleep during my best hours. No, I'll probably venture back over to New Zealand, go spelunking in some volcanic craters, wrestle Mokele Mobembe in the jungles and surf a few midnight waves. Been meaning to have something of a vacation to myself anyways. Just wanted to let you know before I took off, so you wouldn't do something stupid like worry about me."
Ginny's eyes widened, and though she tried to get a word in edgewise, Malibu stood and continued without giving her the chance. "Well, best be off early now. It's going to be a long trip, so I really shouldn't dawdle around here with you kids. Later."
With that, he turned and made ready to depart. However, Ginny managed to stammer out, "B-But it's still daylight outside."
Malibu paused, then looked outside the window at the sunny afternoon. "Um…I knew that. Well, I can spend the next few hours psyching myself up for my night flight. Enjoy the festival with Harry, Ginny."
That time, Ginny was unable to say anything to stop him, and Malibu left the infirmary moments before Madame Pomfrey scuttled in to check up on her. Ginny knew she wouldn't have to worry about Malibu getting caught in the school anymore, or her being involved in another of his deranged plans. Finally, her fourth year could finally settle down and become relatively uneventful.
That still didn't make Ginny feel any better.
* * *
That night in The Three Broomsticks, Malibu the vampire, in a severe case of depression, had reverted into doing what he did best. Which was essentially talking for hours on end to everyone around him.
"I'm gonna get reprimanded for this for sure," he groaned, bonking his head against the tavern table repeatedly. On either side of him, Hagrid and Lupin were busy trying to act nonchalant. "All I was supposed to do was just watch her and make sure nothing out of the ordinary tried to sink its talons into her. Now she hates me! Last I checked, it's kind of hard to be an incognito bodyguard when someone hates you. So much for this year's Christmas bonus."
"Eh, don' let it get yer down," Hagrid said, slapping Malibu on the back—and sending Malibu right into a bowl of pretzels in the process.
"Who said I'm letting this get me down? I'm going to get drunk, and then worry about tomorrow whenever it comes!" Malibu said, raising his stein in the air.
"But that's mineral water yer drinking," Hagrid said. "Ya can't drunk on that."
"Actually, he can," Lupin sighed. "Mineral water for some vampires is like taking shots of what Muggles refer to as Tequila."
Malibu took a long swig from his stein. "At least this one comes with a little umbrella instead of a worm!"
Hagrid chuckled, ordered a blood-flavoured lollipop for Malibu, then asked, "So are yeh both workin' fer the Ministry a' Mystery, or what now?"
Lupin shook his head. "That's a secret, Hagrid, but feel free to believe whatever you want to if it'll make you feel better."
Hagrid chugged down his Butterbeer. "I'm na sure, really. I mean, you n' Malibu work fer the same guys. Don' know anyone who'd hire a werewolf and a vamp."
"Doesn't matter anyways," Malibu muttered. "I only took this bodyguard assignment because Wolfwood told me to. He and Dumbledore go way back. This was a personal favour between them."
"Malibu, once again you're saying too much," Lupin muttered, kicking Malibu's shin underneath the table. "I'd rather you just concentrate on getting drunk on the mineral water, rather than expound on our trade secrets."
Malibu sniffled and pushed aside his stein of mineral water. "Sorry. I mean, I know why Dumbledore might be worried about Ginny; she was exposed to that diary of You-Know-Who, so she could make for an easy target again. Who knows if there aren't any hidden after-effects from her time with Tom Riddle?"
"Should there be anythin' we need ta be worryin' about?" Hagrid asked, suddenly a little more wary than before.
Lupin's chin was propped up by his fist, his brow furrowed as he thought it over. "My associates and I can't find anything. This Hogsmeade festival would seem a ripe target, but as far as we know You-Know-Who's leaving it alone. Maybe because he knows we'd be automatically suspicious of it, and guard it closer than anything else."
"Didn't help much at the Triwizard Tournament from what I hear," Malibu sighed. "Damn, I'm out another pint. Rosmerta, more mineral water! And don't be stingy on the blood-covered beernuts!"
"Yeh sure it's all right fer him ta be like this?" Hagrid murmured to Lupin.
Lupin sighed and shook his head. "You should have seen him a year ago at that Irish pub over in Dublin. Drank too much Rum and O-Negative, then challenged every last leprechaun there to a rugby match…in the pub…and he was the only opposing team member."
Hagrid boggled, and stared back down at the vampire, who was currently trying to score a nibble on the nearby coat rack's neck. "What happened next?"
"Before or after Malibu got the two of us banned from Ireland later that night?"
"I don't think I wanna know, ta be honest."
Lupin nodded. "Wise choice."
The three of them talked strategies and tactics for a few more hours, and then parted ways. Lupin returned to the inn he and Sirius were staying at in the town (there would be no more full moons for another week at least), and Hagrid went back to Hogwarts. Malibu wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but before the night was out he had somehow lost his boxer shorts, wound up in Knockturn Alley, and become the proud winner of sixteen galleons and a billygoat.
He stumbled into a random seedy bar, not entirely drunk but certainly nauseous after having consumed a few dozen pints of mineral water. More than anything, what he needed to do was use the bathroom.
"Well, I suppose I should be getting back to Ginny after this," he sighed.
For as awkward as it would be, he had an assignment and he wasn't about to forego that paycheque. He could just hang there from the ceiling shadows, and she wouldn't be any wiser. Best thing for both of them, really, Malibu thought. She had Harry for the festival, and he could have some peace of mind.
However, just as Malibu left the bathroom, he noted that one of the private rooms at the far end of the hall had left its door partially open. A thin crack of light was painting the wall, and the voices of whomever were inside seemed to be very lively. At first, Malibu was ready to dismiss this completely, having better things to do. Then he remembered that this was Knockturn Alley, known for its disreputable clientele. If the people in that private room were up to something, the world would probably be better off if he knew what it was.
Malibu inched closer towards the door.
"I'm telling you, the Master's plan is nothing short of brilliant!" an excited, shrill voice exclaimed from inside the room. "No one involved with Dumbeldore knows what we've planned, and no one in the Ministry can prevent us from carrying this mission out. Our Dark Lord is assured victory!"
Malibu stifled a burp and pressed his back against the wall, listening intently. He'd had enough experience in the past to know exactly with whom he was dealing. Only a few people ever used such specific vocabulary words as 'Dark Lord' or 'Master', or hissed Dumbledore's name with that much spite.
"Death Eaters," he muttered to himself. Then he nearly gagged when he caught a whiff of his breath and discovered that he reeked of artificially enhanced, fruit-flavoured water.
Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, he quickly turned into a bat and hung upside-down next to the doorframe, where he was able to eavesdrop and peer inside the room.
No less than ten Death Eaters were seated at the circular table inside.
"Come now, I dare you to find a better way to take out an entire crop of Hogwarts' best and brightest," stated a voice so callous and cold, it could have only belonged to Lucius Malfoy. "No one knows we infiltrated Shufflebump and seized control of the band members. Hell, Nott has been performing with them courtesy of the Polyjuice potion for four months now."
"Certainly the Master showed incredible foresight in attacking Shufflebump before the festival was ever made public," another Death Eater said. Malibu couldn't see his face. "It would not surprise me to learn our Dark Lord himself helped arrange for Shufflebump to perform at the festival, just for this specific purpose."
"Then why do you look so pale and sweaty, Avery?" Lucius savagely asked.
Avery growled and said something that really shouldn't be repeated in a fanfic that's only rated PG. But suffice to say, it was rather unpleasant and involved multiple syllables. "It's happening too easily, that's what. I can't help but think Dumbledore's forces are simply biding their time, waiting for us to spring the trap."
"Bah, you give that grizzled old fart too much credit," Lucius snorted. He leaned back in his chair. "By this time three nights hence, every single Hogwarts student who goes to listen to Shufflebump will get a powerful Imperius curse instead of some sappy love-inducing ballad. Think of how many young wizards and witches we will have instantly recruited to turn against their teachers; their parents; the very people who are trying to protect them."
Many of the Death Eaters nodded their heads in agreement.
Avery failed to be as impressed as his colleagues. "If it's so perfect," he countered, "then why is the Master not making an appearance himself? I hear that Potter boy will be there; it's a perfect chance to kill him. So why does the Dark Lord hesitate to show up personally?"
Right then, Lucius let loose his hand and slapped Avery across the face. "Snivelling coward," he hissed. "You dare to call yourself a Death Eater? I'll be sure to express your doubts to the Master when we finish this."
Avery paled considerably. "I…I didn't mean it that way, Lucius, no, not at all."
Lucius gave the man a very condescending look. "I'm sure you didn't." Abruptly he paused and took a deep sniff of the air. "Anyone else smell mineral water?"
Malibu's eyes widened, and he promptly clamped both wings over his mouth. The other other Death Eaters gathered around the table all tried sniffing the air for the scent, but in the end they decided it was just some aroma wafting out from the other side of the tavern.
"Well, doesn't matter," Lucius resumed. "Victory will be assured, and once more we will be feared as before. You all have your tasks to complete; from here on in, we work independent. Send no notices to each other, lest we be discovered. Sacrifice whatever you must to ensure your part of the plan is ready."
The Death Eaters murmured an agreement, then all made some ceremonial gesture and began to rise from their table.
"And remember," Lucius said. "We have only three days, so the hourglass sand is running."
Malibu remained very still as the Death Eaters walked underneath him, many disapparating or using special portkeys to vanish from the tavern without being detected. A few like Lucius strolled out to make a public appearance, and then left on foot.
Once he was certain the coast was clear, Malibu let go of the rafters, flipped over and transformed back into a vampire, landing perfectly on human feet. "Bugger me," he muttered, staring into the now empty private room. "So the festival is a trap after all. Well, they're not going to get away with it, that's for damned sure."
That said, Malibu dramatically spun around and exclaimed. "I've got to stop them! But first…I need to use the little vampire's room."
And off he shuffled to relieve himself of the gallons of mineral water he had consumed that night. After having a lengthy conversation with the local toilet stall, a somewhat refreshed Malibu re-emerged. "There we go, much better," he remarked, drawing in a deep breath of air.
That was immediately followed by a sharp blow to his head, which left Malibu crumpled and unconscious on the floor.
* * *
Once Malibu managed to regain consciousness, he found his hands tied behind his back, and his chest and ankles tied to the chair he was currently sitting in. The chamber was cool and damp, dimly-lit with scattered candelabra, and Malibu could hear water dripping all around. More than likely someone's dungeon or secret cave lair.
Why couldn't villains ever take their captured prisoners to a four-star hotel for interrogation?
"So, you've stumbled across our little plan, have you?"
Malibu turned his head as he saw someone shuffle into the candlelight. The guy was a Death Eater, no mistaking that given his distinctly-coloured hood and robes. He was short and skinny, his skin wrinkled and hanging off his face, and he had patches of greyish hair scattered on his head.
"Welcome," he said. His voice was low and somewhat scratchy. "I must confess, I've never tortured a vampire before. My name is McNair." He gestured to a hulking brute of a wizard suddenly standing behind him. "And this here is my assistant, Kitkat."
One of Malibu's eyebrows went up. "Kitkat? Oooh, I smell copyright infringement."
McNair paused for a few moments, then warily said to Kitkat, "Perhaps that was the scent Malfoy smelled earlier tonight." To Malibu he said, "And just what is this 'copyright infringement'? Some sort of Muggle cuisine?"
Malibu stayed deadpan. "Yeeeaaah," he dryly agreed. "It's food. Almost as good as an MLT: a Mooncalf, Lettuce & Tomato sandwich. If the Mooncalf meat is succulent and done just right, with a layering of garlic honey mustard, it's so…."
His voice trailed off as he noted the particularly sour expressions on McNair and Kitkat's faces. "Should I stop talking right about now?" he asked.
McNair nodded, reaching for a table displaying a wide assortment of surgical tools crafted from silver, spellbooks and wooden stakes. "YES."
Malibu shrank down in his chair. "Sorry. Just give me another chance; I'll be a better prisoner, I promise."
"Just shut up, and I will be happy," McNair stated. "Now then, where shall we begin, Mister…?"
"Malibu," Malibu said.
"Ah, Mister Malibu, is it?"
Malibu shook his head. "Um, no, it's just Malibu. Not a surname, not a first name. Just Malibu."
"I'm quite ready to call you cannon fodder, if you continue to annoy me like this," McNair said grumpily. "Now then, Malibu, it is necessary that we learn how much you know of our plans, and who you might have told them to. Not to mention the fact that the Ministry of Magic does not employ vampires, which makes us very curious as to what sort of agency you work for."
He pulled out a syringe, a thick plume of smoke wafting out from the tip of the needle. "We'll start with a liberal dose of Veritasum. Since drinking it does not affect vampires, as your digestive systems reject it almost instantly, I shall have to inject it directly into your blood, where it is guaranteed to reach your brain."
Malibu's eyes widened as he saw the candlelight reflect off the needle.
With a malevolent grin, McNair started towards Malibu. "Now this will probably hurt a lot, so Kitkat will hold you down. And then, my dear Malibu, you can tell us everything…."
[End of Chapter the Second.]
Obligatory Disclaimer bit: Harry Potter and all its related characters, spells, locations animals, monsters, et all, carpe diem and ipso facto are the property of J.K. Rowling, and should thusly be credited to her. With the exception of Malibu the vampire; I'm not sure anyone would want to take credit for bringing him into this world….
METMA Mandy and her challenge comes courtesy of the letters H, P, and the number 28. Check out her website at: www.geocities.com/metmamandy/ and see why magic and magical girls were not meant to be spliced together in ill- begotten crossovers.
Comments, praises, bribes or Howlers can be owl-mailed to: hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com