CHAPTER 18
17 September 1992, 8:18AM
Ron wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers as he ascended the steps to the Headmaster's Office, exceedingly nervous. He'd received a summons from a Hogwarts elf some minutes ago while in the Hospital Wing, nearly startling him into a heart attack.
For the first time ever, Ron had willfully missed breakfast. He'd woken up with a horrible pounding headache, the force of it so strong he'd laid curled up in his bed with a pillow over his head. The previous night had been such a blur, he could remember bits and pieces of it; lowly lit hallways…a warded cupboard…a simmering cauldron of iridescent green…a giggling pear… a grime covered bathroom sink… chittering and hissing… Ron violently shook his head to clear it.
Percy had been by to check in on him, worried at his absence in the Great Hall and fearing the Twins had disturbed his little brother in spite of his warning them otherwise. Ron had assured him that he was prank-free, just more tired than usual with a terrible headache. In full protective older brother mode, Percy had made Ron promise he'd go see Madame Pomfrey for a Headache Relief potion and a small meal. Ron had done just that, feeling considerably better than when he'd woken up. He was inordinately grateful for Percy; he imagined the Twins would've done him in by now if it weren't for him.
Finally making it to the Headmaster's Office, Ron made to knock before Dumbledore's voice sounded: "Enter Mr. Weasley!" With a gulp, Ron entered before pausing, eyes going wide.
"Dad?!" he asked incredulously. Arthur smiled and waved his son over, enveloping the surprised boy into a warm hug. Dumbledore quietly made his way to his private quarters to give the father and son some much deserved privacy.
"What are you doing here?" Arthur just smiled before inviting his son to sit down with him.
"I wanted to check in on you," said Arthur quietly, gauging his son's reaction. "I wanted to see how you were after…well after everything that happened at the train station. I was…I am very worried about you Ron." The young wizard cringed, fearing an angry reaction on par with his mother's.
"I know it sounds crazy dad but I swear, I don't remember how Jim and I got into the Anglia and flew it all the way over to Hogwarts. I swear! The muggles went…mad (he shuddered, causing Arthur to hold him tighter), Jim and I tried to fight them off but they banged us up pretty good and we were knocked out. Next time we woke up…we were flying in the air and Jim's dad found us." Ron looked away, the traumatic memories swimming to the surface once more. He had been terrified then, but the adrenaline rush of the moment had kept the worst of the fear at bay. Now, the severity of the traumatic moment washed over him as his eyes filled with tears.
"Oh there there son," said Arthur soothingly as he enveloped the boy in a warm hug, exuding comfort and security as best he could. He'd been horrified to learn of him and Jim's near murder attack by a group of seemingly possessed muggles. He'd felt sick when he'd learned of the injuries they'd incurred, and he was absolutely angry that someone - more than likely a Death Eater - had exploited the magic of a house elf to commit such a heinous act. He'd spent a good portion of the proceeding afternoon as Number 8 to inspect every inch of the train station, carefully cataloging the little bits of residual magic that remained. Examination of the muggles had yielded very little; their minds had been wiped of anything useful. As it stood, both the Ministry and the Unspeakables had dispatched their own surveillance to keep extra guard of the location, with the Muggle aide-de-camp thoroughly debriefed.
"Did…did Mum tell you about the Howler?" Ron's voice was quiet and tinged with shame.
"Yes, she did." Ron started at the uncommon hardness of his father's tone. "Percy wrote to me about it, and she and I had a very long discussion." He turned to look Ron directly in the eye: "She was completely out of line, and I am very sorry you experienced that." The boy could only gape in shock.
"I- what?!" Arthur chuckled sardonically. He'd been appalled when he'd read his elder son's letter, genuinely angry at Molly's overreaction. While he understood her being upset over his 'Ministry Inquiry' (a technicality put in place by the Unspeakables for records' sake), he'd been very displeased to hear of her using a Howler to chastise their youngest son. Especially when he'd suffered through such a traumatic attack leading up to the use of the Anglia. While the Twins would see a Howler as encouragement to continue their shenanigans, Ron was much more sensitive than his older brothers. Husband and wife had had a terrible argument, and were only now back speaking to each other after almost two weeks of mutual silent treatment.
"She was out of line, and again, I'm very sorry you had to experience that. You went through a terrible ordeal, and that should have been a good enough reason for her to believe you about the Anglia." He sighed before continuing on. "As far as Ginny's Sorting is concerned…I believe Molly and I should take some of the blame for that." Ron continued to gape. "We've never been fond of Slytherins, and we weren't shy about making our dislike known at home." He sighed tiredly. "You have to understand; the last war…the Death Eaters…so many were Slytherins, their minds already poisoned while they were students. Merlin knows they weren't shy showing their colors during our Hogwarts years, either to us so-called 'blood traitors' and the muggleborns we chose to stand up for. Granted there were obvious exceptions like Lord Gaunt, Lily Evans, Rufus Scrimgeour, and even Professor Snape…but they were so few and so far in-between. Molly and I just figured… 'once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin', especially when the war intensified. Stands to reason it would rub off on you kids, especially with most of you becoming Gryffindors." Ron shifted, choosing not to tell his father that the Hat had considered him - encouraged him really - for Hufflepuff.
"But things are different with Ginny aren't they?" Ron couldn't help the bitterness that bled into his voice, something his father readily picked up on.
"I suppose they are, but then again it's always different when it's one of your own." His expression grew firm. "Just as it would be different for any one of you if you'd been Sorted into Slytherin, much like Ginny has been." Ron's eyes widened. "Your mother and I love you and your siblings above all else, including whatever House you're Sorted in. What matters the most is that you do your very best, and that will be enough for both of us." Arthur gripped the younger wizard's shoulders firmly, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm always here for you son. If you need me for anything, just let me know, and I'll be there. Alright?" A few beats passed before a beaming smile lit the young wizard's face, hugging his father tightly as feelings of love and assurance filled his person.
From within the depths of Ron's psyche, Rex Novergicus shrunk back from the positive emotions the young wizard was experiencing, like poison to his very being. He slunk deeper into the dark haven he'd created in the boy's mind, biding his time. Those wretched…feelings would subside, and he was more than capable of waiting…
12:07PM
Miranda made her way to the Great Hall for lunch, reading her day's notes from Team Chameleon. They'd spent the entire period brewing large batches of Polyjuice, attempting to replicate the modifications Fred Weasley had claimed to achieve with his Twin Terror. It would be a month before they would know if any of the alterations were truly successful, but Weasley was more than confident. 'At least nothing's blown up in our face yet,' she thought sardonically. Lockhart had been so pleased he was pushing for them to experiment even more; he'd sequestered copper and brass cauldrons to test different brewing speeds, along with two solid gold cauldrons (reserved for NEWT students) for the top brewers of Team Chameleon to experiment with should their batch be the most successful. Miranda was strongly vying to be one of those two.
"PSST! Bonnevie, over here!" Miranda turned at the sound, holding back her scowl at Lucian Bole's less-than-subtle attempts to get her attention. He was standing at the entrance of an abandoned classroom, making increasingly frenzied signaling motions to get her to come inside. Barely avoiding rolling her eyes, she made her way over.
Inside were Cousin Cassius, Peregrine Derrick, Muriel Rothley, and Horatio Pershore, all wearing expressions far too crafty for Miranda's liking.
"Welcome Cousin, please come join us." Cassius gestured to an empty chair, like a pseudo-magnanimous king to a lowly member of his court.
"So," said Miranda snootily while she took her seat. "What's this all about?"
"I've been thinking about our little Potter Problem." Miranda stiffened imperceptibly. "And I believe I've come up with the perfect solution to rid us of the little Halfblood filth once and for all." Cassius' eyes glimmered cruelly. Miranda buried her trepidation behind her shields, projecting cool and condescending confidence.
"Have you really? Ha! Don't make me laugh!" Her cousin's expression turned ugly.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means, Cousin, that I saw you chatting it up with the dirty halfblood over lunch about a fortnight ago. Looked positively chummy chattering about Quidditch and comparing each other's brooms." A look of fury overcame the boy's face as he snarled, looking as though he wanted to strike her. Peregrine and Muriel looked keenly alarmed at the reaction. Cassius took a few moments to calm himself before replying:
"If you must know, Cousin, that was a display of cleverness meant to test the waters, a concept someone like you wouldn't begin to understand." He sneered before continuing. "You see, I merely wanted to test the halfblood; he was so eager to gain my attention and my approval, easily engaging me in conversation like a sad little crup puppy." Miranda swallowed back her incredulity; Cassius had been the one overly eager in his efforts to gain Harry's attention. She could hear him all the way from the other end of the table for Merlin's sake! "His guard is now completely down around me, imagining us to be…peers." An ugly snarl marred his face, causing Peregrine and Horatio to exchange a nervous glance.
"So…what was the conclusion you drew?" asked Miranda quietly. Cassius sneered before responding:
"The best way to get to Harry Potter…is through his brother Jim." It took every bit of Miranda's willpower to not scoff at the ridiculous conclusion.
"Jim? Who is the Potter Heir?" The idiocy of the younger wizard's suggestion was staggering. "And just how do you plan on accomplishing this?"
"Easy; turn Jim Potter over to our side of things, use him to help us get rid of his filthy little brother." Miranda stiffened. "The Boy-Who-Lived hates Harry more than any of us, and Potter hates him back just the same. If we can - and we will - use Jim's hatred to our advantage, make him think that his little brother is…plotting some kind of twisted dark wizard's revenge against him, Jim will snap. Better yet, he'll get Lord Potter involved, and while that blood traitor is good for very little, he'll finally deliver on his promise to expel Harry from his family, and snap the wands of him and his filthy mudblood mother. It's a perfect plan." Miranda's dubiousness must have been more obvious than she wanted, because Cassius began scowling petulantly. "I know it will work, Bonnevie. I'm a Warrington, and our plans always work." The witch's nostrils flared at the jumped up little shit's attempt to pull rank on her, drawing on their positions within the Family. Whilst Cassius' mother was a Bonnevie, the Warrington name (as a Selwyn cadet family) held significantly more weight in these matters.
"It'll work!" Bole interjected as Muriel nodded sagely. Peregrine and Horatio looked mildly discomfited, but neither said a word. Miranda stared inscrutably at her waiting Cousin, allowing a few beats to pass. Hidden in her robes, her grip tightened on her wand - 10 ¾ inch acacia with dragon heartstring - wondering whether she could successfully hurl a hex in the odious boy's face while making her escape. Finally, she nodded tightly in agreement.
Great Hall, 7:39PM
The weight on Jim's head was the first clue that something was amiss as he took a bite of his beef stew. The second clue was when a near identical weight settled over Ron's head, startling him into dropping his spoon full of shepherd's pie as he looked above his head. The third and final clue was when the skin of every Gryffindor student seated at the table immediately turned Slytherin green, with unique patterns of iridescence that mimicked a snake's scales. They all looked at each other in alarm, their panicked voices coming out as hisses. Several students of the other Houses looked at the Gryffindor table in varying degrees of shock and amazement, as many started laughing at the sight.
Then, the high-pitched singing - in a very thick Irish accent set to the tune of God Save the Queen - started. Specifically, singing which emanated from the brilliant green and golden royal crowns that had appeared on Jim and Ron's heads; Jim's head bore the golden inscription "Jim Potter, King of the Leprechauns", whilst Ron's bore "Ron Weasley, Lackey to the Leprechaun King". The song grew in crescendo with each line, offset by a cacophonous chorus of hisses that was rather…unsettling:
King of the Leprechauns
His brains are made of bronze
He makes us sick.
It's really obvious that
Jim is a total prat
Smart as a Beater's Bat
and just as thick.
Lackey to the Leprechaun King
What bad luck he brings
He makes us so ill.
It's quite plain to see
He's as lovable as a doxy
Smart as a troll's club
With just as much skill.
Jim snatched the crown off his head and examined the inscription, his face turning red as almost everyone in the Great Hall looked in his direction and started laughing. Ron mimicked his movement, face glowing in complete embarrassment at the spectacle. His siblings all looked horrified (Ginny's mouth had been wide open for the entire thing), but the Twins looked a little…impressed that someone who wasn't them had been able to pull off something so complex and grand.
The song was apparently on a loop, as it started up again immediately. Annoyed, Jim shook the crown repeatedly in an effort to get it to stop. Then, he cast a Silencing spell on it. That somehow caused the singing to increase in volume. Ron mimicked Jim's actions and finally, in frustration, the young Weasley dropped the crown onto the floor and kicked it underneath the table, hoping that would at least muffle the singing. Instead, as soon as it left his hands, the crown disappeared with a POP! ... and then immediately reappeared on top of his head! Jim's crown reappeared on his head simultaneously, resuming the loud obnoxious singing as the Gryffindors continued to hiss in perfect unison to the song's tune.
After a few more minutes of this spectacle, the Headmaster (along with McGonagall, Flitwick, and Lily) descended down from the Staff Table and approached the Gryffindor table. After instructing Ron and Jim to hold their crowns in their hands, they all cast powerful Finites simultaneously.
That thankfully worked, as all the Gryffindors resumed their normal complexions and stopped the dreadful hissing. The Professors made their way back to their table, though Lily's eyes never left her son's. But before the joke crown vanished, just for a second, Jim (and only Jim) could make a small phrase of sparkling letters at the base of the crown: Slytherins Rule. Gryffindors Drool. A wave of rage overcame him as he looked up at the snake's table and made direct eye contact with Harry, who was quietly laughing as he stared back unblinkingly.
At the sound of continual laughter all around them, Ron and Jim continued to flush in great embarrassment. Weasley made himself as small as possible, quickly shoveling food down so he could leave. But Jim refused to eat, instead staring intently at Harry (who was currently ignoring him whilst he conversed with Theo and Blaise). His fury - along with all the little fires of anger, fear, and unhappiness - bubbled deep within his gut, quietly festering since the catastrophe that was his twelfth birthday celebration.
Eurus started as Luna suddenly paused mid-conversation, staring intently at Jim Potter. "Luna…what is it?"
"Something's wrong with Jim." The statement was sharp, her voice lacking its usual sweet airiness.
"I can imagine, there were limerick-singing crowns that magically appeared on top of his and his best friend's head. God Save the Queen of all things," she tutted. "Not to mention all that…hissing." While she had grown used to the hissing of the Hydra's serpents, it didn't sound nearly as…unnatural as what she'd just heard.
"That's not what I mean," Luna replied in a quiet whisper. "It's like there's one giant wrackspurt in the pit of his stomach that's so…fat. He's probably been gorging it with all sorts of fury-flies that he's been dropping down his own gullet to feed it. And…he just dropped a big one. His nargles are also agitated, and his wrackspurts look like they want to eat Harry's." Eurus' eyes widened, before quickly removing her notes journal - which was now officially named the Mysterioso Manifesto - and jotted down her friend's descriptions to share with Professor Lockhart during their next team meeting.
The Following Day…
The potion turning lime-green was the first clue that something was amiss. Severus noticed immediately, already on high alert after the morning's most vexing events.
In seeming retaliation for the previous night's prank against the Boy-Who-Lived and literally all of Gryffindor House, someone (more than likely the damn Weasley Twins) had gotten their revenge on the House of Serpents. The snakes had spent their entire morning sporting leonine visages of thick manes and fur-covered skin, calling each other "Death Eater!" in lieu of their proper names, and literally roaring every other word. Finites hadn't worked this time, and nearly all of Slytherin House had spent the next few hours of class-time afflicted. His morning NEWT class had been an entire waste as none had been fit to brew their scheduled Essence of Insanity. Suffice to say he was beyond irritated.
Severus quickly made his way over, wand a blur as he worked to quickly (but carefully) cast a Silencing charm over the now screaming potion. Harry, Neville, and everyone around them clutched their heads and began to sway as if overcome by vertigo. Luckily, before anyone passed out (or possibly died), Snape succeeded, peering into the cauldron which now had what appeared to be several mouths floating in its gooey green surface, all wailing in silent agony. Frowning, Snape quickly Vanished the contents of the cauldron and then Banished it with a slash of his wand, along with the Silencer. Casting a nonverbal diagnostic spell, the Professor scowled when Neville's hands turned bright green.
"Your hands, Longbottom! Show them to me." A nervous Neville held out his hands, and Snape firmly took one and turned it over so that the palm was facing up. Then, he waved his wand silently and cast another spell, frowning when the boy's hands (and a good portion of his wrist) turned an even more shade vivid green as the vanished potion. The man sighed.
"Mr. Longbottom…have you been in the Greenhouse today?" Neville frowned in confusion.
"Um…yes Professor I have."
"And did you work with mandrakes today?"
"I-I did Professor, I was assisting Professor Sprout with unpackaging the Mandrake seeds that arrived this morning. But how did you know?" Snape frowned.
"Because, the diagnostic spell I just cast indicated that your hands are covered in Mandrake pollen. Am I to assume that Professor Sprout ignored standard seed-handling protocol by imploring you to not wear your gloves? Especially with material as temperamental as mandrakes are known for being?"
Neville's eyes widened in understanding. "I…I did use gloves, but I was running late and didn't have a chance to do a full decontamination. Honestly, I never realized that I'd been contaminated." He looked down at his glowing hands. "Certainly not this much." He looked down in embarrassment as he heard McClaggen rudely snicker. Severus just sighed.
"Five points from Gryffindor Mr. Longbottom. You and Mr. Potter will both sit quietly until the end of class, and unfortunately, you will both be receiving a zero for the day due to your incomplete potion." Harry sighed internally but only nodded as Neville further pinked in embarrassment. "As always, I will provide you two a time within the next week that fits within my schedule to come in and brew that potion over again to make up for lost credit."
Harry nodded. "We'll compare schedules and let you know before the end of the day. Thank you, Professor." Snape nodded before sharply making his way over to a still sniggering Cormac, startling the boy into nearly dropping his stirrer.
Gryffindor Boys Dorm, 8:47PM
Jim entered his bedroom and tossed his robes and knapsack aside, stretching languidly. It'd thankfully been a prank-free day for the Gryffindors, though he was still quite chuffed about the morning spectacle with the Lion Snakes. Gathering his things to go take a shower, he stopped as he saw his trunk, startled to see that the lock was open. He looked around the room. Seamus and Dean were quite asleep, snoring very loudly. Neville he'd seen was downstairs, giving Herbology tutoring to some Firsties. Ron was already in the bathroom, if the running shower was any indication.
With great trepidation, Jim opened the trunk and lit up his wand with a Lumos to see if anything was missing. There was. Jim normally stored his father's invisibility cloak within a moleskin pouch at the bottom of his trunk. The pouch was now gone, and in its place was a piece of parchment that had been folded over and sealed. Slowly, he removed the paper and broke the seal. By the light of his glowing wand, Jim read the message it contained.
Dear Git-Who-Lived:
I so enjoyed the little prank last night, you look quite fetching with a fool's crown mounted on your fathead. And all that hissing! Now who's the dirty little snake, hm? Seems you got us all back today, so I will concede to a prank well-played.
With that said, it's now quite clear that you and your Lions are quite desirous for revenge. So as a preemptive strike, I thought it best to deprive you of your number one pranking aid, lest you decide to escalate things and embarrass our family name any further. Good luck proving it was me.
Sincerely,
You-Know-Who
P.S. Slytherins Rule. Gryffindors Drool.
P.P.S. Poof!
As Jim read to the very last word, there was indeed a sudden poof as the letter in his hand disappeared in a gout of green flame. Jim stood there, still with a glowing wand in one hand, as he stared down into the trunk where his family's heirloom cloak was supposed to be. He gripped his wand so tightly that his knuckles cracked, before a scream of rage flew from his lips at his younger brother's audacity! Seamus and Dean's eyes flew open at the wrathful sound, shocked to see the murderous visage of Jim Potter.
'Count your days Little Brother,' thought Jim furiously, his wand (unbeknownst to him) releasing red hot sparks in response to its master's furious emotional state. He screamed once more, kicking his trunk so harshly that it skidded across the room to thud against the wall.
For reasons he couldn't fathom, Ron felt his face crack into a wide and unsettling smile.
AN 1: I've always thought Molly's Howler was much too much. While she was valid in being upset at her son risking his life and potentially jeopardizing Arthur's employment (the sole breadwinner of the family), I don't think public humiliation should be part of a parent's discipline of a child. I wanted Arthur and Ron's little heart-to-heart to highlight that.
AN 2: Casting-wise, I'm thinking Bill Milner for Cassius Warrington, and Billie Piper as Miranda Bonnevie (Rose Tyler in Dr. Who but with more 'pureblood polish')
