Harry Potter and the Joke that Killed: Chapter Eleven
A/N: Thank you to all y'all that've reviewed! *muah* (kiss) *MUAH!!* (giant scary kiss that readers run from in fear)
Yo quiero Harry Potter, pero no tengo Harry Potter. Estoy muy triste, y llora mucho. (I'm in Spanish 2, what can I say?) Hay un pompis muy pequena en mis pantelones. Ay Chihuahua!
* * * * *
Victoria Callahan lay unconscious on the floor of the Three Broomsticks, twitching a bit.
"Isn't this one of your professors?" Mr. Weasley bellowed, bending over and peering into the woman's face.
"Yeah Dad, she's the new Defense teacher. Professor Callahan." Ron answered, sounding distant and confused.
A moment later Priscilla came rushing out of the kitchen. "What in Merlin's name just happened?" she asked, glancing down at Professor Callahan, then the tumbled over chairs and four tables, back at Professor Callahan, then at Mr. Weasley.
"This woman attacked my daughter-in-law." Mr. Weasley explained.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, please, just go on with your lovely night and I'll call the Ministry." Priscilla recommended, fearful of a lawsuit.
"That won't be necessary, Priscilla," said Mr. Weasley. "I'm taking Professor Callahan up to Hogwarts along with my sons; she's a teacher there."
"A teacher? At Hogwarts?" the waitress inquired, looking doubtfully down at the body on the floor. "Why, when she's been comin in here for the last couple of nights, she's babbled on about being some sort of new auror for the ministry or something."
Now everyone else glared at Professor Callahan doubtfully. There was no mistaking her though; though intoxicated, her dark curly hair was a dead giveaway. Poor Corky stayed awfully silent through all of this, and Bill was stroking her back lovingly. Her white, frightened face was buried in his chest.
"Mobilcorpus." Mr. Weasley said, and at once Professor Callahan's body rose and floated a few inches off the ground, her ankles slack and her feet hanging oddly. She followed the family out the door, leaving poor Priscilla behind to clean up the mess. Of course, the waitress was plenty relieved the Three Broomsticks wasn't being sued.
When the group opened the large doors, they saw Headmaster Dumbledore hustling down the grand staircase towards them. "I'm so sorry, will you all please come with me to my office?" the old man asked, and it only surprised everyone a little bit that he already knew about the event.
After Professor Callahan was seated, slouching awkwardly in a large recliner, Dumbledore sighed and apologized once more. "I am so sorry. Lately Victoria's been going to Hogsmede and drowning her sorrows in quite an unprofessional way. Ever since Severus got, erm. sick." Dumbledore trailed off. This was the first time Harry had ever seen the man looking unsure of himself.
"But that still doesn't explain why she attacked Courtney." Mr. Weasley.
"Victoria may have her reasons, but whatever they are, they're hers and I do not have the right to tell her story." Dumbledore said in the infuriating and elusive way he does. Bill sported a fiercely protective look in the direction of Professor Callahan, and it was clear that the Weasley family thought this was extremely unfair of the Headmaster. But Harry understood, it just wasn't Dumbledore's way to go around telling everything about someone when they should do it themselves.
"Well, I think we're done here. Goodbye Headmaster, thank you for all your hospitality. We will see you in the morning." Mrs. Weasley spat in anger, as she was usually quite moody like that. But Dumbledore just grinned and shook everyone's hand, which took quite some time because of how many people there were, and the family went off to their guest quarters.
On the way to the common room, Hermione stayed strangely quiet and thoughtful. Harry and Ron were excitedly discussing the reasons for Professor Callahan's outburst.
"Do you think she was just drunk?" Harry asked.
"Nah." Ron said dismissively. That explanation apparently wasn't scandalous and interesting enough. "Oh! D'you think she's in love with Bill?"
"Hey, yeah, and she attacked Corky because she was in a jealous rage!" Harry added excitedly.
"Bill and her are 'bout the same age too, maybe even attended Hogwarts together!" Ron answered, his voice rising.
"Oh, will you two shut up?" Hermione shouted angrily. "Honestly, you two gossip more than Parvati and Lavender." At this harsh insult, Ron and Harry closed their mouths and looked at their shoes like beaten dogs.
"Ron, do you know where the Crinkle family got their money?" Hermione asked a second later, the thoughtful look back in her eyes.
"No, all I know is that is old. Does it really matter? It's all still money." Ron replied.
"Well. if I remember correctly, I read about a lawsuit that fourteen years ago was taken to the Ministry about a family that could have had connections to You-Know-Who. An inexperienced auror had caught a man and woman, Reginald and Courtney Crinkle, whose wand's prior spells had been the Avada Kedarva curse that killed a group of aurors. The inexperienced auror was the only one not killed, and the only witness to the crime." Hermione explained. Ron and Harry were dumbfounded.
"Did you say Courtney Crinkle?" Ron asked, but Hermione ignored him and continued.
"So, when the case was tried, this twenty-something auror fresh from training was testifying against Reginald and Courtney, and things looked bad for the couple until their defense lawyer gave his speech.
"He said that this girl was probably too frightened by her first experience in being an auror and didn't see everything right. The Crinkle's were actually victims captured by Death Eaters, and the Death Eaters killed the aurors before apparating and leaving the Crinkle's there, to be framed by the new auror."
"But what about their wands? Priori Incantatem must've shown the Avada Kedarva, it'd be a dead giveaway." Harry argued. But Hermione shook her head.
"No, you see after the new auror performed the Priori Incantatem, she hadn't done it right and the previous spells were erased, and then the only things the ministry came up with were summoning spells and hovering charms. nothing conspicuous. The witness's credibility was completely destroyed.
"It's the only case in history involving possible Death Eaters that ended in a 'Non-Guilty' verdict. Reginald and Courtney Crinkle walked away with a huge compensation settlement from the Ministry, and that new auror was fired, but still bitterly maintained that she was right." At the end of Hermione's speech, Harry and Ron were silent, staring at her expectantly.
"Don't you get it?" Hermione cried, irritated. "Reginald and Courtney Crinkle had a thirteen year old daughter at the time! Reginald and Courtney are Corky's parents! She's rich because of the settlement! And the young auror was Victoria Callahan!" As usual, Hermione was light-years ahead of Harry and Ron. But after a second of busy thought, both her friends cried out.
"NO WAY!!!" Ron bellowed, his eyes round and larger than usual.
"It makes no sense, that could be anyone!" Harry remarked, shaking his head.
"No, it makes perfect sense. Didn't you guys see the plaque on Professor Callahan's wall, about being a certified auror of the Ministry? The date of her graduation from training was a week before the trial!"
"Don't jump to conclusions, Hermoine." said Ron, but even he was beginning to come around about his sister-in-law.
"And according to the picture next to the article I read, Courtney looks a lot like her mother! Being drunk and all, Professor Callahan probably got all mixed up and the rage and embarrassment of being fired and ridiculed was too much for her, and she attacked. Probably mistook Corky for her mother!" Hermione yelled.
"NO WAY!!!" Ron bellowed once more, but this time because it was all finally clicking in his head.
"Oh. My. Gosh." Harry remarked. Was it really possible, that Corky's parents were possible Death Eaters that got away? This certainly explained the frightened look on her face; Professor Callahan was the woman who accused her loved ones of the worst thing possible at the time, of being Voldemort's supporters.
And it was no wonder the teacher was so adamant about not judging by past mistakes, she'd probably been bombarded with Howlers and flame-mail after the trial, charging 'innocent' people with something that horrible.
With full heads and confused but certain faces, the three walked up to the Gryffindor dormitories and tried to find room for sleep in their raging thoughts.
(^*^)
The next morning dawned perfect and sunny, the picturesque Sunday quite the opposite of the Weasley family's moods. Mrs. Weasley had scrubbed down every inch of their guest quarters and refinished the chest of drawers, and was starting to wash the carpet before her husband caught her.
"Dearest, I don't mean to be a bug, but I do wish you'd cease! You are not a Hogwarts house-elf, and this is not your house to clean. STOP." Mr. Weasley ordered, and his wife blushed ashamedly.
"I'm sorry Arthur, but I'm so upset, and cleaning calms me, and everything is a shambles, and I can't seem to keep still!" explained Mrs. Weasley, waving her arms expressively, her voice cracking towards the end. Mr. Weasley just shook his head and smiled at her comfortingly.
Everyone began their day by visiting George in the hospital wing again. Now there were two teachers hidden behind the cloth barrier; poor Professor Callahan was both knocked unconscious by the fall and practically poisoned by the alcohol content in her bloodstream.
"The Ministry has already sent over a pair of enchanted prosthetic legs for George." Headmaster Dumbledore declared, walking out of the double doors with two great boxes under his arms. After much unwrapping, and everyone in the room astounded by the bubble wrap except for Dumbledore, Harry, and Hermione ("Amazing cushioning device, those muggles can certainly compensate ingeniously!" remarked by none other that Mr. Weasley), two perfectly normal looking appendages lay on the side table next to George's bed.
"We clamp them on like this, see," Professor Dumbledore explained, moving the silver clasps back and forth. "And there's padding here, so George will be perfectly comfortable. Luckily, he still has some of the muscles and tendons in his knees, so magically we will make them move the appropriate parts of his calf, feet, ankles, and toes as much as we can."
Then it was time for the unveiling of what was left of George's ill- fated legs. Dumbledore pulled back the sheets and there it was; half a leg, otherwise normal besides the acid green varicose vein type things snaking their way along his knees. "He'll have those scars the rest of his life. But in some cases, scars can actually come in handy." The Headmaster remarked, favoring a twinkling look towards Harry's forehead.
Mr. Weasley picked up one of the prosthetic legs and placed it gingerly next to his son, who was sleeping peacefully with no inclination of what was going on, or rather, what wasn't going on, with his lower half.
Carefully the man opened the clasps and slid it over George's knee, then clamped it. Besides the silver fasteners, the leg looked completely normal. Fred reached out and poked his brother's new foot, and distinctively the big toe twitched in response. Mrs. Weasley cried out with delighted astonishment, and Percy jumped into the air.
"It moved!" Charlie exclaimed, pointing at the now dormant foot.
"Yes. Yes it did." Dumbledore said softly, looking relieved. He sighed deeply.
(^*^)
At dinner that night, the Headmaster broke the news about George to the rest of the school. Of course almost everybody knew about it anyway, since forbidden gossip was far more important than schoolwork during classes.
"Another curse has struck." Dumbledore declared solemnly. The hall was dead silent; you would never have been able to tell that there were adolescents in the room. "George Weasley was cursed with the Aciderrator Curse by eating a mysterious taffy that was left in his bag. Ronald Weasley, his brother, came to his rescue before the curse melted anything above his knees, thank goodness. For stopping this sinister destruction affectively and rapidly, I award one hundred points to Gryffindor House." A roar of applause erupted within the Gryffindor table that nearly, nearly, drowned out the praise from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Ron closed his eyes and reveled in standing out because of himself for the first time. Glancing around the room, Harry saw Hagrid dab a battered red and white polka dotted handkerchief in the corner of is eyes and then blow his nose, the sound bringing to mind that of a large goose. Harry also saw, once again, Draco Malfoy clapping compassionately for George. It was quite a conflicting sight.
After the ten minute ovation, Dumbledore continued. "I ask, no, I beg, all of you not to consume ANYTHING suspicious you discover, even if it's inside your bookbag or robes. You are all too precious to me to watch another one of my students go through what Neville, Nancy, and George had to. This is the sincerest matter, please heed me on it. And now, let us not mourn, but celebrate that whatever has yet again attempted to defeat us has only made us stronger! To triumph!" The old man raised his glass, and the students did the same. After he had downed his drink, glancing down at his plate Harry noticed that it was now filled with delicious foods and delicacies, and he suddenly realized he was much hungrier than he had thought. Fred even ate a few bites of stew, his first meal ever since the night his brother was cursed.
A buzzing of conversation fluttered around the table about the newly opened Beater position on the house Quidditch team. Apparently, it had gotten out about George not being able to play again.
Fred, looking rather pained, made a small announcement. "Everyone who wants to be a Beater on the house team, try outs are after classes on Friday." Harry looked incredulously at Fred, and the boy nodded back at him.
"Are you sure?" Harry mouthed.
"We're playing Ravenclaw in a month. I know for a fact George'd kill me if we lost because we were grieving over him. The least we can do for him is kick some butt." remarked Fred, and Harry agreed. "Don't worry, he'll still be a co-captain. He's lost his ability to play, but he's still got a great mind for the game." Fred added.
That week in Defense class there was a substitute teacher. "Hello, I am Matilda Snott, your replacement teacher. Please turn to page 276 and read to yourselves. I don't care what you do as long as you're silent. Go." The small witch instructed in a nasally voice, and quickly Harry and Ron obeyed. That is, in the keeping silent part. A note was being passed from Ron to Harry.
Wow, Prof. Callahan's still out! Ron wrote.
Can you believe Miss SNOTT?? Harry answered.
It's better than Snape! Like last year, remember that? 5 rolls of parchment on werewolves. we hadn't even gotten that far yet!
Harry's hand quivered over the paper, wondering what to respond. It would be so easy for the old Harry to write back something witty about 'the slimy git,' but things had changed. Once again, the Potions Master was trying to save his life.
Dunno Ron, Snape's not that bad.
Right, and Professor Trewlaney isn't an old bag high on incense
Aw, c'mon, just because he favors Slytherin a bit doesn't make him a bad person. Somebody's got to, they're the most hated ones here just because of some stupid choices a bunch of former Slytherin's made!
This statement earned a dubious glare from Ron.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?! Snape = unfair teacher = Slytherin = Malfoy = all things bad in general. What's gotten into you?
Nothing. Never mind. Harry wrote back, and then opened his book and began reading the lesson on the dangers of disturbing a male grindylow during mating season.
Friday soared by, even with double potions that afternoon. Again, there was a substitute, but this teacher actually monitored what the students were doing. It was quite disappointing.
But it was a definite pick-me-up to think about watching people trying out for the Quidditch team later that day, silly first years thinking they had a chance, the bumbling idiots crying when they got hit with a bludger. the thought always cheered Harry up. It was amazing how far he himself had come.
The list of hopefuls was actually short considering the esteem placed upon a person who played on a house team. There were some rumors floating around that the position was cursed by George himself (though the fact that he was in a coma might make casting a spell a little hard), and anyone who took the Beater's place would crash on the first game day. Needless to say, this discouraged many first-years from trying.
When Harry saw Ron there, he assumed it was because he was George's brother. It would be of his interest to see who the Beater's replacement would be. So you couldn't blame Harry for yelling aloud and falling out of his seat when he saw the name "Ronald Weasley" on the roster.
"RON!?" Harry shouted, calling the tall boy's attention over to him. However, when Ron figured out what the shout had been concerning, he turned back around again, face burning.
Only a few of the auditions turned out to be comical, and the bludgers really enjoyed their workout. Three hours it took, to sift through the riff-raff, before the decisions became tough. Ron actually managed to scrape into the top five, though Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this was because Fred had a say in the judging.
Though Ron wasn't half bad, once you got him with the rest of the team. He couldn't really slam the bat as confidently or hard as his brothers could, but he had accuracy and speed, which made up for it. And also, the red-haired boy possessed some sort of clairvoyance as to where the best place to whack the bludger would be, or which fellow teammate he needed to protect from one. Harry actually felt dwarfed by Ron for once, and not the other way around.
"Nice flying up there, kid." Angelina commented, as Ron hopped off his old Shooting Star after the two-minute trial run. There were twenty targets, and you had two minutes to hit as many as you could. Ron had got seventeen, which was a good four above the leader, seventh-year Yolanda Bateman.
"D'you think I stand a chance, Harry?" Ron asked, wide-eyed and doubtful. Harry didn't want to get his hopes up, and yet his gut was telling him that Ron did.
"Can't say," Harry answered with a twinkle, avoiding the question. But Ron didn't press it. "And since when have you been a beater?"
"Since my brother was cursed and I've felt quite wrathful. Dunno, the thought never occurred to me before to be one. It's like, that was Fred and George's thing. Bill was a keeper, Charlie a seeker, it was only natural for me to be the chaser. Dad jokes that we could start a national Weasley team, we've got enough players anyway." Ron answered, exceptionally straightforward for him. He usually didn't display his feelings so outwardly.
"Well, good for you, Ron. And good luck." Harry responded.
"Thanks, Harry. I have a feeling I'll need it."
Though Harry had a feeling he wouldn't.
* * * * *
A/N: *sweating like a marathon had just been run* DONE!! *wipes brow* Fini. Accomplished. Not having to type anymore! Yay! So. will Ron get the position of beater, as his brother's replacement? Are y'all pulling for him? Are ya, are ya??
Well, that's bloody well and good for RON, with a fictional plight (though very important), but I'm the one with a story to be reviewed!! SO DO IT!! Please! See, I'm polite, that's gotta be worth a pat on the back!
Quick poll here, who would be the BEST couple in the whole Harry Potter regime? I'd like to see everyone's separate views, and also to peg who exactly my slash lovers are here. If you would like to know, I'm not a fan of slash. AT ALL. It's sorta blasphemous to JK's work, but whatever melts your margarine I guess. as long as you don't try to melt mine.
Love from,
Saranimal
HaloGal5@aol.com
A/N: Thank you to all y'all that've reviewed! *muah* (kiss) *MUAH!!* (giant scary kiss that readers run from in fear)
Yo quiero Harry Potter, pero no tengo Harry Potter. Estoy muy triste, y llora mucho. (I'm in Spanish 2, what can I say?) Hay un pompis muy pequena en mis pantelones. Ay Chihuahua!
* * * * *
Victoria Callahan lay unconscious on the floor of the Three Broomsticks, twitching a bit.
"Isn't this one of your professors?" Mr. Weasley bellowed, bending over and peering into the woman's face.
"Yeah Dad, she's the new Defense teacher. Professor Callahan." Ron answered, sounding distant and confused.
A moment later Priscilla came rushing out of the kitchen. "What in Merlin's name just happened?" she asked, glancing down at Professor Callahan, then the tumbled over chairs and four tables, back at Professor Callahan, then at Mr. Weasley.
"This woman attacked my daughter-in-law." Mr. Weasley explained.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, please, just go on with your lovely night and I'll call the Ministry." Priscilla recommended, fearful of a lawsuit.
"That won't be necessary, Priscilla," said Mr. Weasley. "I'm taking Professor Callahan up to Hogwarts along with my sons; she's a teacher there."
"A teacher? At Hogwarts?" the waitress inquired, looking doubtfully down at the body on the floor. "Why, when she's been comin in here for the last couple of nights, she's babbled on about being some sort of new auror for the ministry or something."
Now everyone else glared at Professor Callahan doubtfully. There was no mistaking her though; though intoxicated, her dark curly hair was a dead giveaway. Poor Corky stayed awfully silent through all of this, and Bill was stroking her back lovingly. Her white, frightened face was buried in his chest.
"Mobilcorpus." Mr. Weasley said, and at once Professor Callahan's body rose and floated a few inches off the ground, her ankles slack and her feet hanging oddly. She followed the family out the door, leaving poor Priscilla behind to clean up the mess. Of course, the waitress was plenty relieved the Three Broomsticks wasn't being sued.
When the group opened the large doors, they saw Headmaster Dumbledore hustling down the grand staircase towards them. "I'm so sorry, will you all please come with me to my office?" the old man asked, and it only surprised everyone a little bit that he already knew about the event.
After Professor Callahan was seated, slouching awkwardly in a large recliner, Dumbledore sighed and apologized once more. "I am so sorry. Lately Victoria's been going to Hogsmede and drowning her sorrows in quite an unprofessional way. Ever since Severus got, erm. sick." Dumbledore trailed off. This was the first time Harry had ever seen the man looking unsure of himself.
"But that still doesn't explain why she attacked Courtney." Mr. Weasley.
"Victoria may have her reasons, but whatever they are, they're hers and I do not have the right to tell her story." Dumbledore said in the infuriating and elusive way he does. Bill sported a fiercely protective look in the direction of Professor Callahan, and it was clear that the Weasley family thought this was extremely unfair of the Headmaster. But Harry understood, it just wasn't Dumbledore's way to go around telling everything about someone when they should do it themselves.
"Well, I think we're done here. Goodbye Headmaster, thank you for all your hospitality. We will see you in the morning." Mrs. Weasley spat in anger, as she was usually quite moody like that. But Dumbledore just grinned and shook everyone's hand, which took quite some time because of how many people there were, and the family went off to their guest quarters.
On the way to the common room, Hermione stayed strangely quiet and thoughtful. Harry and Ron were excitedly discussing the reasons for Professor Callahan's outburst.
"Do you think she was just drunk?" Harry asked.
"Nah." Ron said dismissively. That explanation apparently wasn't scandalous and interesting enough. "Oh! D'you think she's in love with Bill?"
"Hey, yeah, and she attacked Corky because she was in a jealous rage!" Harry added excitedly.
"Bill and her are 'bout the same age too, maybe even attended Hogwarts together!" Ron answered, his voice rising.
"Oh, will you two shut up?" Hermione shouted angrily. "Honestly, you two gossip more than Parvati and Lavender." At this harsh insult, Ron and Harry closed their mouths and looked at their shoes like beaten dogs.
"Ron, do you know where the Crinkle family got their money?" Hermione asked a second later, the thoughtful look back in her eyes.
"No, all I know is that is old. Does it really matter? It's all still money." Ron replied.
"Well. if I remember correctly, I read about a lawsuit that fourteen years ago was taken to the Ministry about a family that could have had connections to You-Know-Who. An inexperienced auror had caught a man and woman, Reginald and Courtney Crinkle, whose wand's prior spells had been the Avada Kedarva curse that killed a group of aurors. The inexperienced auror was the only one not killed, and the only witness to the crime." Hermione explained. Ron and Harry were dumbfounded.
"Did you say Courtney Crinkle?" Ron asked, but Hermione ignored him and continued.
"So, when the case was tried, this twenty-something auror fresh from training was testifying against Reginald and Courtney, and things looked bad for the couple until their defense lawyer gave his speech.
"He said that this girl was probably too frightened by her first experience in being an auror and didn't see everything right. The Crinkle's were actually victims captured by Death Eaters, and the Death Eaters killed the aurors before apparating and leaving the Crinkle's there, to be framed by the new auror."
"But what about their wands? Priori Incantatem must've shown the Avada Kedarva, it'd be a dead giveaway." Harry argued. But Hermione shook her head.
"No, you see after the new auror performed the Priori Incantatem, she hadn't done it right and the previous spells were erased, and then the only things the ministry came up with were summoning spells and hovering charms. nothing conspicuous. The witness's credibility was completely destroyed.
"It's the only case in history involving possible Death Eaters that ended in a 'Non-Guilty' verdict. Reginald and Courtney Crinkle walked away with a huge compensation settlement from the Ministry, and that new auror was fired, but still bitterly maintained that she was right." At the end of Hermione's speech, Harry and Ron were silent, staring at her expectantly.
"Don't you get it?" Hermione cried, irritated. "Reginald and Courtney Crinkle had a thirteen year old daughter at the time! Reginald and Courtney are Corky's parents! She's rich because of the settlement! And the young auror was Victoria Callahan!" As usual, Hermione was light-years ahead of Harry and Ron. But after a second of busy thought, both her friends cried out.
"NO WAY!!!" Ron bellowed, his eyes round and larger than usual.
"It makes no sense, that could be anyone!" Harry remarked, shaking his head.
"No, it makes perfect sense. Didn't you guys see the plaque on Professor Callahan's wall, about being a certified auror of the Ministry? The date of her graduation from training was a week before the trial!"
"Don't jump to conclusions, Hermoine." said Ron, but even he was beginning to come around about his sister-in-law.
"And according to the picture next to the article I read, Courtney looks a lot like her mother! Being drunk and all, Professor Callahan probably got all mixed up and the rage and embarrassment of being fired and ridiculed was too much for her, and she attacked. Probably mistook Corky for her mother!" Hermione yelled.
"NO WAY!!!" Ron bellowed once more, but this time because it was all finally clicking in his head.
"Oh. My. Gosh." Harry remarked. Was it really possible, that Corky's parents were possible Death Eaters that got away? This certainly explained the frightened look on her face; Professor Callahan was the woman who accused her loved ones of the worst thing possible at the time, of being Voldemort's supporters.
And it was no wonder the teacher was so adamant about not judging by past mistakes, she'd probably been bombarded with Howlers and flame-mail after the trial, charging 'innocent' people with something that horrible.
With full heads and confused but certain faces, the three walked up to the Gryffindor dormitories and tried to find room for sleep in their raging thoughts.
(^*^)
The next morning dawned perfect and sunny, the picturesque Sunday quite the opposite of the Weasley family's moods. Mrs. Weasley had scrubbed down every inch of their guest quarters and refinished the chest of drawers, and was starting to wash the carpet before her husband caught her.
"Dearest, I don't mean to be a bug, but I do wish you'd cease! You are not a Hogwarts house-elf, and this is not your house to clean. STOP." Mr. Weasley ordered, and his wife blushed ashamedly.
"I'm sorry Arthur, but I'm so upset, and cleaning calms me, and everything is a shambles, and I can't seem to keep still!" explained Mrs. Weasley, waving her arms expressively, her voice cracking towards the end. Mr. Weasley just shook his head and smiled at her comfortingly.
Everyone began their day by visiting George in the hospital wing again. Now there were two teachers hidden behind the cloth barrier; poor Professor Callahan was both knocked unconscious by the fall and practically poisoned by the alcohol content in her bloodstream.
"The Ministry has already sent over a pair of enchanted prosthetic legs for George." Headmaster Dumbledore declared, walking out of the double doors with two great boxes under his arms. After much unwrapping, and everyone in the room astounded by the bubble wrap except for Dumbledore, Harry, and Hermione ("Amazing cushioning device, those muggles can certainly compensate ingeniously!" remarked by none other that Mr. Weasley), two perfectly normal looking appendages lay on the side table next to George's bed.
"We clamp them on like this, see," Professor Dumbledore explained, moving the silver clasps back and forth. "And there's padding here, so George will be perfectly comfortable. Luckily, he still has some of the muscles and tendons in his knees, so magically we will make them move the appropriate parts of his calf, feet, ankles, and toes as much as we can."
Then it was time for the unveiling of what was left of George's ill- fated legs. Dumbledore pulled back the sheets and there it was; half a leg, otherwise normal besides the acid green varicose vein type things snaking their way along his knees. "He'll have those scars the rest of his life. But in some cases, scars can actually come in handy." The Headmaster remarked, favoring a twinkling look towards Harry's forehead.
Mr. Weasley picked up one of the prosthetic legs and placed it gingerly next to his son, who was sleeping peacefully with no inclination of what was going on, or rather, what wasn't going on, with his lower half.
Carefully the man opened the clasps and slid it over George's knee, then clamped it. Besides the silver fasteners, the leg looked completely normal. Fred reached out and poked his brother's new foot, and distinctively the big toe twitched in response. Mrs. Weasley cried out with delighted astonishment, and Percy jumped into the air.
"It moved!" Charlie exclaimed, pointing at the now dormant foot.
"Yes. Yes it did." Dumbledore said softly, looking relieved. He sighed deeply.
(^*^)
At dinner that night, the Headmaster broke the news about George to the rest of the school. Of course almost everybody knew about it anyway, since forbidden gossip was far more important than schoolwork during classes.
"Another curse has struck." Dumbledore declared solemnly. The hall was dead silent; you would never have been able to tell that there were adolescents in the room. "George Weasley was cursed with the Aciderrator Curse by eating a mysterious taffy that was left in his bag. Ronald Weasley, his brother, came to his rescue before the curse melted anything above his knees, thank goodness. For stopping this sinister destruction affectively and rapidly, I award one hundred points to Gryffindor House." A roar of applause erupted within the Gryffindor table that nearly, nearly, drowned out the praise from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Ron closed his eyes and reveled in standing out because of himself for the first time. Glancing around the room, Harry saw Hagrid dab a battered red and white polka dotted handkerchief in the corner of is eyes and then blow his nose, the sound bringing to mind that of a large goose. Harry also saw, once again, Draco Malfoy clapping compassionately for George. It was quite a conflicting sight.
After the ten minute ovation, Dumbledore continued. "I ask, no, I beg, all of you not to consume ANYTHING suspicious you discover, even if it's inside your bookbag or robes. You are all too precious to me to watch another one of my students go through what Neville, Nancy, and George had to. This is the sincerest matter, please heed me on it. And now, let us not mourn, but celebrate that whatever has yet again attempted to defeat us has only made us stronger! To triumph!" The old man raised his glass, and the students did the same. After he had downed his drink, glancing down at his plate Harry noticed that it was now filled with delicious foods and delicacies, and he suddenly realized he was much hungrier than he had thought. Fred even ate a few bites of stew, his first meal ever since the night his brother was cursed.
A buzzing of conversation fluttered around the table about the newly opened Beater position on the house Quidditch team. Apparently, it had gotten out about George not being able to play again.
Fred, looking rather pained, made a small announcement. "Everyone who wants to be a Beater on the house team, try outs are after classes on Friday." Harry looked incredulously at Fred, and the boy nodded back at him.
"Are you sure?" Harry mouthed.
"We're playing Ravenclaw in a month. I know for a fact George'd kill me if we lost because we were grieving over him. The least we can do for him is kick some butt." remarked Fred, and Harry agreed. "Don't worry, he'll still be a co-captain. He's lost his ability to play, but he's still got a great mind for the game." Fred added.
That week in Defense class there was a substitute teacher. "Hello, I am Matilda Snott, your replacement teacher. Please turn to page 276 and read to yourselves. I don't care what you do as long as you're silent. Go." The small witch instructed in a nasally voice, and quickly Harry and Ron obeyed. That is, in the keeping silent part. A note was being passed from Ron to Harry.
Wow, Prof. Callahan's still out! Ron wrote.
Can you believe Miss SNOTT?? Harry answered.
It's better than Snape! Like last year, remember that? 5 rolls of parchment on werewolves. we hadn't even gotten that far yet!
Harry's hand quivered over the paper, wondering what to respond. It would be so easy for the old Harry to write back something witty about 'the slimy git,' but things had changed. Once again, the Potions Master was trying to save his life.
Dunno Ron, Snape's not that bad.
Right, and Professor Trewlaney isn't an old bag high on incense
Aw, c'mon, just because he favors Slytherin a bit doesn't make him a bad person. Somebody's got to, they're the most hated ones here just because of some stupid choices a bunch of former Slytherin's made!
This statement earned a dubious glare from Ron.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?! Snape = unfair teacher = Slytherin = Malfoy = all things bad in general. What's gotten into you?
Nothing. Never mind. Harry wrote back, and then opened his book and began reading the lesson on the dangers of disturbing a male grindylow during mating season.
Friday soared by, even with double potions that afternoon. Again, there was a substitute, but this teacher actually monitored what the students were doing. It was quite disappointing.
But it was a definite pick-me-up to think about watching people trying out for the Quidditch team later that day, silly first years thinking they had a chance, the bumbling idiots crying when they got hit with a bludger. the thought always cheered Harry up. It was amazing how far he himself had come.
The list of hopefuls was actually short considering the esteem placed upon a person who played on a house team. There were some rumors floating around that the position was cursed by George himself (though the fact that he was in a coma might make casting a spell a little hard), and anyone who took the Beater's place would crash on the first game day. Needless to say, this discouraged many first-years from trying.
When Harry saw Ron there, he assumed it was because he was George's brother. It would be of his interest to see who the Beater's replacement would be. So you couldn't blame Harry for yelling aloud and falling out of his seat when he saw the name "Ronald Weasley" on the roster.
"RON!?" Harry shouted, calling the tall boy's attention over to him. However, when Ron figured out what the shout had been concerning, he turned back around again, face burning.
Only a few of the auditions turned out to be comical, and the bludgers really enjoyed their workout. Three hours it took, to sift through the riff-raff, before the decisions became tough. Ron actually managed to scrape into the top five, though Harry had a sneaking suspicion that this was because Fred had a say in the judging.
Though Ron wasn't half bad, once you got him with the rest of the team. He couldn't really slam the bat as confidently or hard as his brothers could, but he had accuracy and speed, which made up for it. And also, the red-haired boy possessed some sort of clairvoyance as to where the best place to whack the bludger would be, or which fellow teammate he needed to protect from one. Harry actually felt dwarfed by Ron for once, and not the other way around.
"Nice flying up there, kid." Angelina commented, as Ron hopped off his old Shooting Star after the two-minute trial run. There were twenty targets, and you had two minutes to hit as many as you could. Ron had got seventeen, which was a good four above the leader, seventh-year Yolanda Bateman.
"D'you think I stand a chance, Harry?" Ron asked, wide-eyed and doubtful. Harry didn't want to get his hopes up, and yet his gut was telling him that Ron did.
"Can't say," Harry answered with a twinkle, avoiding the question. But Ron didn't press it. "And since when have you been a beater?"
"Since my brother was cursed and I've felt quite wrathful. Dunno, the thought never occurred to me before to be one. It's like, that was Fred and George's thing. Bill was a keeper, Charlie a seeker, it was only natural for me to be the chaser. Dad jokes that we could start a national Weasley team, we've got enough players anyway." Ron answered, exceptionally straightforward for him. He usually didn't display his feelings so outwardly.
"Well, good for you, Ron. And good luck." Harry responded.
"Thanks, Harry. I have a feeling I'll need it."
Though Harry had a feeling he wouldn't.
* * * * *
A/N: *sweating like a marathon had just been run* DONE!! *wipes brow* Fini. Accomplished. Not having to type anymore! Yay! So. will Ron get the position of beater, as his brother's replacement? Are y'all pulling for him? Are ya, are ya??
Well, that's bloody well and good for RON, with a fictional plight (though very important), but I'm the one with a story to be reviewed!! SO DO IT!! Please! See, I'm polite, that's gotta be worth a pat on the back!
Quick poll here, who would be the BEST couple in the whole Harry Potter regime? I'd like to see everyone's separate views, and also to peg who exactly my slash lovers are here. If you would like to know, I'm not a fan of slash. AT ALL. It's sorta blasphemous to JK's work, but whatever melts your margarine I guess. as long as you don't try to melt mine.
Love from,
Saranimal
HaloGal5@aol.com