The (nice, long!) chapter in which I apologize for a few slight mistakes...
Mistakes? Why don't I know about this?!
Well (am very surprised nobody but me spotted this) in the last chapter, isn't it a bit odd that we arrive at Dumbledore's office in the middle of the night, then instead of going to bed like normal people, we go on a tour around the school (without getting caught), then go outside and find the Slytherin Quidditch team practicing IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?!
Oh yeah... You are soooo stupid!
What?! agh...can't win...
*Stomps off muttering something about melons*
*Blinks* Ok. Well, as she's not here, I shall introduce the next chapter! Enjoy! (and apologies for Aimie's stupidity. Just assume we went to the hospital wing, got energy potions, left Aimie to get some magical painkillers, and by this time it was the crack of dawn, and the Slyths were up by then.)
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Aimie looked up as Manda wandered down into the mostly deserted common room.
"Morning, Manda."
"Morning Aimie. Morning John, James, Deejay."
The male contingent mumbled something without looking up from their tasks. John was reading the Daily Prophet, and James and Deejay were attempting to light a fire using sheets stolen from the back, and a lighter. Aimie was toying with the amulet around her neck. (A/N: (As Aimie) My precious... My preciousssss...)
David entered the room. He looked about, slightly confused.
"Why are we the only ones downstairs? We went to bed at about four!"
"More to the point, why are we all up, dressed, and conscious at six-thirty on a Saturday morning?" Aimie pointed out, gesturing towards the clock. "Same reason. Energy potions. We all drank them in the infirmary, remember?"
(A/N: Remember? Everyone remember that?! Nice subtle cover-up, Aimie!)
"We probably only needed about half an hour's sleep."
"I still don't get all this magic stuff," said Deejay. "How did we get here, and what's the point?"
"Point is, do we care?" put in James. "This is pretty good, better than what we'd normally be doing at this time."
"Like sleeping?" suggested John.
"Exactly."
Just then, a sleepy-eyed second year came down the stairs. He blinked and rubbed his eyes when he saw John – who had hair longer than many girls', long black-painted nails, and had apparently set the newspaper on fire just by looking at it. (The two arsonists had gotten a little careless.) The boy took a nervous step back.
Deejay rose up out of the smoke like some pantomime baddie, smiling demonically.
"Hello, little boy...would you like some sweeties?" (A/N: He actually does this!)
The poor innocent managed to stutter; "N-n-no... Just going...breakfast..." He made a break for the portrait hole.
"RUN CHILD!" shrieked Deejay, who was in full swing. "Run, I shall still find you...heh heh heheh...I shall hunt you down and ...aak!"
Manda had come to the second year's rescue. She rolled her eyes apologetically at him and pointed at Deejay. "Ignore. Don't worry, he harmless really..."
"...Although you might want to lock your door at night while he's here," finished James unhelpfully.
This was the last straw for the boy, and with a squeak, he vanished out of the portrait hole. Aimie was trying to extinguish the paper by stamping on it.
"Be nice to the people!" said Ron appearing at the bottom of the stairs, and brandishing his wand.
"...Or they shall rise up, and eat all the pumpkin pasties!" finished Dean Thomas, arriving just behind him with impeccable timing.
"Or what?" Deejay asked Ron, ignoring Dean. "You'll roger me to death with your posh pointy thing?!"
Harry, Neville and Seamus arrived downstairs to see Aimie looking vaguely nauseous. Harry looked slightly annoyed.
"Who locked Vicky into her room?" he demanded. "I was woken up by this tremendous banging from her!"
Aimie, still recovering from the last image, had to sit down.
Ron and Seamus were silently shaking with laughter. The others just looked at him.
"What?!" asked a bewildered Harry. "She was really noisy!"
At that, everyone else had to sit down. "Oh, God," said Ron, with feeling.
"What?!" poor Harry continued to ask.
"Over twelve hours in our company, and he's still innocent," muttered Aimie to David.
"Must be a record." he agreed.
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One hour later, when Hermione had arrived, and they had run out of things to talk about, they reluctantly (A/N: OY! Evil! Yeah... your point? ) decided to retrieve Vicky, and head down to breakfast. As they climbed the stairs they started to hear faint thudding noises.
"She was like this all night!" Harry complained.
The others looked worried. Deejay looked intrigued. "Tell us more!" he said, with an encouraging smile. Manda punched him.
(A/N: She plays rugby. Her punches are not to be sneezed at. Achoo! Shut it!)
"John and I don't tell you about our love life!"
Deejay muttered a reply. "No, mores the pity."
"So Amanda and John are... you know...?" asked Hermione curiously.
"Oh yes. Romance of the century. Voted cutest couple and couple most likely to marry in our yearbook," explained James.
Thankfully they had reached Vicky's room. A stream of abuse too obscene to be printed was pouring from within. Aimie yelled over it.
"Vicky, Harry's with us!" The curses instantly dropped a few ratings.
"Let me out! LET ME OUT, DAMMIT!!"
Deejay grinned wickedly. "Oh no! The door seems to be stuck! You may have to stay there. Never mind, we'll post pancakes underneath, while...I say Harry! Are you taking your shirt off?!" (A/N: Heh... Sounds like fun...)
An anguished scream echoed from the room. She started hammering on the door.
Aimie grimaced.
"As much as I enjoy thwarting Vicky's plots, I'm going to have to let her out."
She removed the key from her pocket, and unlocked the door. As she went to open it, it burst open, and Vicky (who had chosen that moment to charge down the door) came flying out. She accidentally (A/N: Yeah, of course.) landed on Harry, knocking him over beneath her.
(A/N: *Longing sigh*)
Everyone behind him went down like a line of dominoes, and David, who happened to be last, lost his balance and fell back down the stairs. If the Gryffindors weren't all awake before, they certainly were now.
As everyone got back to his or her feet, Deejay caught sight of Vicky on top of a highly embarrassed Harry.
"She must be desperate," he remarked to the world in general.
"Hey..." mumbled Harry, weakly trying to hold onto the last shreds of his dignity.
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When everyone was full after breakfast, the time was nearing nine. Aimie's appetite had for some reason increased exponentially. However, finally, even she sat back, completely full.
"This must be nice for you, Vicky," she remarked. "Having a Saturday morning without having to go to band."
Vicky went white. "This... this is Saturday? I... I can't miss band! I won't be able to see Henry! Oh no! No, no, no! I have to text Louise, get her to apologize for me... Oh, Henry... Henry will be devastated... " (A/N: Henry is another of Vicky's dream men. He goes to her band.)
Oddly enough, this was almost exactly what Louise herself was saying.
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"...And now Vicky's missing band! She hasn't told anybody, either... Oh no! Oh dear, she's so dead... We have our concert in three weeks!" (A/N: Ok, so not exactly what she was saying...)
Her fellow flute-playing friend Ceri listened bemusedly. She still didn't quite get why Vicky wasn't there.
"Sorry, can you just run that by me one more time? I didn't get the whole part where she got to North Scotland from Surrey..."
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A glass of iced water and the promise of being taken outside the magical field so she could use her phone later had revived Vicky. "Don't scare me like that," she muttered to an apologetic Aimie. "There are some things you just don't joke about."
"Is she all right?" said Ginny in an undertone to Harry. "They're a little... strange, aren't they?" She glanced over at Deejay, who was holding up two fried eggs as improvised breasts, and telling James to feel them.
(A/N: Don't ask. You really don't want to know.)
"Very," agreed Harry. "I need to get my wand from the dormitory. Do you think you could just... keep an eye on them?" he added quietly to her.
"Sure," she smiled; pleased he had asked her to help.
He won't always think of me as Ron's little sister, she promised herself. At least being a proper friend to him would be nice... for now, anyway.
She watched him, a little wistfully, as he and Ron went back up to the tower. Her real problem, she decided, was that he was so... nice. She couldn't hate him, even if he did mostly ignore her.
Well, she qualified; he just doesn't notice me most of the time. He doesn't deliberately ignore me. Maybe I should... I don't know, dye my hair pink or something. Then he might at least notice something odd.
Then she glanced over at the newcomers.
Who am I kidding? Next to them, me with pink hair would look quite conservative!
"Excuse me." Ginny turned and saw the blonde girl – Vicky something – standing behind her. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"
(A/N: Heh heh heh... I'm so evil...)
Had Ginny known better, she would have recognized the all-too-sweet tone in the other girl's voice. As it was, she didn't.
"Oh, sure! Vicky, am I right? I'm Ginny," she added, as they walked a little way away from the tables. Aimie could be heard to be whistling a western-showdown theme tune as they passed her.
"I know who you are," replied Vicky, all pretence of friendliness gone from her voice. Now she sounded aloof, with a slight hint of patronizing...
"...And I don't really care. Now, I realize you may not aware of it, but Harry will never be yours. What you feel is just a crush, and all girls get them at around your age..." Vicky seemed to be deliberately ignoring the fact that she and Ginny were nearly the same age.
"...You need to move on, and keep your eyes to yourself from now on, because he is mine."
Ginny stared at her in disbelief. How can she know? How?! I've never told... she wasn't even here when... Who does she think she is, talking to me like this!
"You..." she began, but Vicky interrupted her thoughts.
"I know he's your Tom Riddle substitute," the blonde continued, blithely revealing knowledge she definitely should have kept to herself. "With the hair, and the orphan status, and the aura of mystery..."
"SHUT UP!!"
The cliche of redheads having tempers was not actually that accurate in most cases, but it most certainly was in this one.
"Who are you?! More to the point, who do you think you are?! Harry belongs to nobody; he isn't property! Least of all yours! You only just met him, and I've known him for what, FIVE YEARS? I know him as a person, and that is why I like him, not because I want to go out with someone famous, like some sad little groupies I could mention!"
Vicky looked ready to kill. (A/N: Not just ready to... about to!)
"HOW DARE YOU!" She launched herself at the redhead in a fury, grabbing her hair. Ginny shrieked then, not about to take that lightly, kicked her assailant in the shin. Vicky was just attempting to use her nails, (A/N: Beautifully manicured, perfectly filed, and toughened with varnish. *Winces*) when her hand was dragged backwards.
Ginny had narrowly been saved by Aimie and Hermione's timely arrival. (The boys had been no help whatsoever, and were actually standing on the Gryffindor table shouting 'Cat fight!')
They were still struggling to get to one another, (A/N: To fight, not for... another reason. Dirty minds...) when a voice laden with shock said,
"What's going on?!" It belonged to a very pretty Ravenclaw with silky black hair, and large dark eyes. Vicky and Ginny immediately stopped fighting, and glared. As the newcomer was ushered away by Manda, Vicky remarked out of the corner of her mouth,
"God, what a slut!"
Ginny, still glaring, agreed. "Yeah, look at the way she dresses."
"Look at the way she walks."
"Absolutely. Disgusting, someone should do something about her."
"Yeah."
Aimie (who had heard this conversation) blinked, and looked back at Cho Chang (for it was she.) The girl was wearing baggy jeans and a plain T-shirt with her robes. She shrugged. At least they weren't fighting anymore.
And at least Harry wasn't here to hear what they both said. Poor boy would probably pass out, if he knew.
(A/N: I personally have nothing against Cho Chang. I find it so strange how loads of people hate her! It's because she's a... Thank you, Vicky. I hate her too! Why...?)
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Once again gathered in Dumbledore's office, the Latin gang, Harry, Ron and Hermione were having a crisis meeting.
Professor Dumbledore smiled around at them all. "Did everyone have a good night?"
"I think so, Sir," replied Hermione.
"Some of us better than others, Sir," said Deejay simultaneously, grinning slyly at Harry.
"Old joke now, Deej. Can we stop?" asked Manda. (A/N: Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.)
"Well, that's good." said Dumbledore, with remarkable selective hearing. "Now, as I see it, you have a problem."
"We do. How are we going to get home?" asked Vicky. "Can we take the Floo, or a portkey, or something?"
"Not at present. They only work for magical persons," the Headmaster replied gravely.
Aimie spoke up. "So I could, but the others couldn't, right?" (A/N: Grr...)
"That is correct."
"Professor?" asked Hermione, "I found some information in a book about these amulets. Isn't there some kind of linking ritual that can be used to spread the amulet's power to others?"
"Well, done, Miss Granger!" he told here, looking delighted. "There is, indeed."
"Great!" said Aimie. "We'll do that, and be right off home. I mean, this is cool and all, but everyone will be wondering if we're dead or not."
The rest of the Latin gang nodded and got up, ready to go.
"Wait a minute!" They all paused and looked back at the obvious Merlin-wannabe. "Haven't you forgotten someone?"
Deejay smacked himself dramatically on the forehead. "We forgot about Mr. B.!"
"Did you see anything, Aimie? When you went all peculiar last night?" asked Ron.
"Yes..." she said uncomfortably.
"Well, where do you think he is?" Manda inquired. "We can't really leave him here."
"He's been captured by Death Eaters, and is held prisoner in Voldemort's castle," she babbled. (A/N: ...and you didn't tell us until now because...?)
"WHAT?!" chorused nine other voices.
"I don't know what I can do about that, but I can remedy the magical situation." said Dumbledore. "The ritual is a little risky, but I am pretty sure we can pull it off. It will, however, take some time to get all the necessary equipment together. It can be performed tomorrow, if you all agree."
"Fine with us," said John, after a quick glance around at the others.
"Until that time, amuse yourselves." he stood up, indicating an end to the interview.
"Doesn't that make you go blind?" Deejay was heard to comment, as they left.
Taking advantage of Ginny's absence, Vicky had linked her arm through Harry's as they made their way through the corridors. He was gallantly answering all her questions, and blushing at every over-effusive compliment. The group got strange looks from all they passed. (A/N: Nothing new there, then.)
Deejay, a borrowed cloak streaming out behind him, raced down the corridors in front of them. Aimie, wandering along behind Vicky and Harry, was doing her level best to ignore this, and mentally ran over all the rescue plans she could think of. They were all bloody useless.
Ahead of the rest, Deejay raced around a corner. Seconds later, there was a crash, and an outraged yell.
They ran up, to see Deejay being dangled in the air by Goyle. Smirking in a truly cliched manner was Draco Malfoy, who had his wand out, (A/N: Not THAT wand, people!) and was holding it to the other boy's throat.
"Ah, Potter, nice to see you," he drawled sarcastically. "I thought you wouldn't be far behind."
======================= TO BE CONTINUED! ======================
Oooh, nice cliffhanger, Aimz!
Cheers uh...Vix.
Yeah, was good. I didn't appear, though!
Sorry, too much to fit in. This was originally only the first half of a chapter, but we have so many great plans that it was getting too long... (Never thought I'd say that!)
Never thought I'd hear you say that!
Thanks a lot... Hey... Emily disappeared!
*Crickets chirp into the quiet.*
Uh... Vicky?
*Vicky is also nowhere to be seen*
Damn it! Oh well. Next chapter, we do some.... *Aimie fades away into nothingness, still talking...*
