Dungbombs Are Forever
Chapter I
Two Plotters
Sunlight filtered through the high windows of the library, turning stray dust motes into dancing flakes of gold. This celestial sight went unnoticed, however, by the two boys who sat huddled together pouring over what appeared to a scrap of old parchment. Fred Weasley lifted his red haired head and looked at his twin brother.
" George, old boy," he planted a finger on the old parchment, " With this we can finally get back at those slimy Slytherins."
His twin nodded in agreement, " Who would have thought a complete and detailed map of Hogwarts even existed!"
For, indeed, that was what the piece of parchment was: an intricate map of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Fred and George, in their first year at the aforementioned school, had rescued it from Filch the caretaker's office the week before. Figuring out how it worked took all week but the discovery that it was map would surely aid the twins' pursuit of disruption and mischief. However, ordinary mischief was not what had brought Fred and George to the Library.
Earlier in the week, Fred, in a moment of surprising stupidity, had placed quite a large bet on the outcome of the Gryffindor Vs Slytherin quidditch match. This had proved to be a near disaster as the Slytherin team dominated the opening of the match, running up a large lead. With the score 150-10 in favor of Slytherin, O'Neal, the Gryffindor seeker, had collided with his Slytherin counter-part, done a back flip off his broom and slammed face first into the middle Gryffindor goalpost and slid headfirst to the ground. The Slytherins raucous laughter had turned into cries of disbelief as the fluttering snitch was discovered in O'Neal's tightly clenched hand. The Slytherins had typically called for a rematch, but the ruling stood. Gryffindor 160 - Slytherin 150. Of course, Herman Masquer, the 7th year Slytherin Fred had bet with, reneged on the deal, claiming fraud. Fred wasn't abnormally surprised about that refusal to pay but he was more than slightly peeved when Masquer decided to take Fred's 22 galleons from the informal bookie they had used, who also just happened to be a Slytherin. This was the reason Fred and George were in the library. Such a treacherous attack on the dignity Gryffindor must be gloriously avenged. Besides the Twins could hardly pass up a chance for disruption.
At first George had been a tiny bit reluctant about entering the fray and had suggested a more moderate course of action. " Come on, Fred, just go to Prof. Snape about it. He's the head of their house. Let him handle it."
" Right, but you're coming with me. " Fred was slightly dubious of their potion master. He had heard some most unpleasant things about him from his older brothers.
The visit to Snape had been a disaster. Snape had sneered, reminded them that gambling among students was forbidden in Hogwarts, and took twenty points off Gryffindor each of the twins. This injustice made it not only a grudge against Masquer, but also a vendetta against the whole Slytherin House. Now the twins had two targets: the Slytherins and Prof. Snape.
Back in the library both the twins were studying the aforementioned map, curiously titled the Marauders Map: Messr. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, were paying close attention to the various secret passageways leading from Hogwarts to the village of Hogsmeade. George pointed to one that came up in the alley next to Zonko's Joke shop.
" I propose that dungbombs become our primary weapon of retribution." He rose from his chair, and clasping both hands across his heart, loudly proclaimed to the entire library: " Mountains may crumble, and seas dry up, but Dungbombs are forever!"
Fred sniggered. " And I have a smashing good idea for our dear friend Snape."
This, unfortunately, was the end of their scheming as a vengeful Ms. Pince born down upon them and booted them snickering from the library.
Chapter II
First Blood
The following morning, a Friday, Professor Severus Snape arose from his bed and began preparing for his classes. He slipped into his robes and glancing at the mirror, ran a hand through his greasy hair. Deciding that everything was in its proper order he swung open his door and stood face to face with something shockingly pink. With a snarl he jumped backwards, whipping out his wand preparing to horribly curse whatever or whoever was outside his door. Taking a second glance, however, he realized that pink object was in fact a largish box, hanging suspended in mid-air. Tentatively, Snape reached out, prodded the box, and waited. Nothing happened. Slowly, Snape stepped closer to inspect the box. It was bright pink with a yellow bow. Underneath the bow a card was attached. Snape opened the card and read the one line of writing. With my fondest regards: Christy Blake.
Christy Blake? The professor thought, searching his mind, as he slowly carried the box into his quarters and sat down at his desk, gingerly placing the box on top of it. From a drawer he withdrew a curse detector and scanned the box. Negative. The box and its contents didn't contain any dark magic. Carefully, Snape opened the one edge of the lid. Inside, resting on colored paper, resided what looked like two dozen wrapped chocolates. Relaxing slightly, he lifted the lid off completely. With a muffled boom, 24 chocolate disguised dungbombs, exploded outward. Yelling hoarsely in shock and surprise, Snape clutched at his splattered head face and robes. He overbalanced and crashed backwards with a resounding thud onto the stone floor. The opening gambit of The War of the Dungbombs, as it would later be called, had succeeded and it was doubtful if Hogwarts would ever be the same.
At approximately that same moment, Lee Jordan, first year student and confidante of the Weasley twins, was eating breakfast in the Great Hall. Actually he was attempting to eat breakfast. Percy, the twin's older brother, was explaining to him, in great detail, the difficulties of international wizard relations pertaining to the import of differing sorts of wizarding foods.
" Precisely what I was saying. If the Chinese continue to import dog meat then the British wizarding ...umph." Percy's droning was abruptly cut short as a blueberry muffin was stuffed whole into his mouth.
Lee looked over his Percy's shoulder to see Fred Weasley calmly munching on another muffin.
" Let's go Lee, it's about time for potions. "
On the way down toward potions dungeon, Fred quickly briefed Lee on the developing events. Lee was duly impressed and eagerly agreed to help them plant some of the multitude of dungbombs the twins had acquired in a late night shopping spree at Zonko's. Lee was going to ask just how they had accomplished it but was delayed by their arrival at the dungeon. As he and Fred sauntered into the classroom they spotted George surreptitiously placing a pink envelope on Snape's desk.
" They're in the supply cabinet. " George whispered as he sat down next to Fred.
" What's in the cabinet" Lee glanced at the tall wooden object temporarily moved from Snape's office into the main classroom.
" The dungbombs, you git " George smacked the back of Lee's head. " Inside reside fifty-two delightful packages of odorous revenge. I used the temporium spell and they'll go off in three hours."
" Coincidentally, smack in the middle of the 7th year Slytherin class," Fred remarked evily.
" What in the world is a temporium sp-" Lee's query was abruptly cut short as the dungeon door crashed open.
Professor Snape stormed through the doorway into the room. He was wearing worn, slightly faded robes and as he moved to the front of the room the trio caught a whiff of a strange odor that seemed to follow the professor like a cloud. Snape, wearing a highly umpleasant scowl, slammed his book on his desk, and, in doing so, caught sight of the envelope lying innocently upon it. With a hiss of rage Snape snatched the letter and tore it open. His scowl deepened. He raised his wand and the various drawers in his desk flew open. Assured that they held no surprises, Snape carefully lowered himself onto his chair and looked at his pupils.
" If I ever catch any of you, his gaze swept both the Gryffindor's and Slytherin's, attempting a practical joke on any teacher, I will personally see that you are severely punished." Snape's voice dripped ice. " Now open your books to page 156."
During a moment when Snape was attending to a Slytherin cauldron that was sending up sparks and odd colored vapors, Lee got his chance to finish his aborted question.
" What is a temporium spell?" was George's answer," It sort of acts like a muggle timer. I found it in the advanced magic section of the library."
" But what if you made a mistake?" said Lee nervously.
" No way! I did it perfectly. The only possible but unlikely thing that could set it off early would be if someone opened the cabinet doors. The doors are rigged to the spell to open when the bombs go off so as to widen the effect."
" Besides," added Fred, " Snape never uses that stuff for us first years."
Even as the words left his lips, Fred knew they were doomed. Abruptly, Snape stood up and barked at Katie Bell, a Gryffindor, to get gryphon viscera from the cabinet.
Snape looked up at the student's cauldron he had been attending to. " Smyth here, through his own stupidity, was about to produce a rather poisonous gas. Gryphon viscera is often used to stabilize and render harmless...."
Fred, George and Lee weren't listening. They were watching in fascinated horror as Katie innocently walked to the cabinet.
" Stay calm" George held up a slightly trembling hand.
" Man, we are toast." Lee was judiciously placing his notes in the safety of his bag.
" Stop..." Fred whispered despairingly.
Katie reached out, grasped the handle and pulled.
Chapter III
Calm Before the Storm
Hate spewed across the galaxy in high crusade and chaos ruled the void. Albus Dumbledore glanced up from the text of his book as the door to his office crashed open. Dumbledore had a weakness for muggle fiction and had been enjoying a moment with Asimov when he was interrupted. Standing in the doorway was a rather bedraggled looking figure covered in what appeared to be a wide range of potion ingredients.
" Albus!" the figure bellowed.
Abruptly Dumbledore realized that the figure was Prof. Snape, apparently a little worse for wear.
" I will not tolerate it!" Snape continued to rant, waving his arms and scattering various objects over the headmaster's office.
Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, shook his wings and stepped daintily out of the way of the inadvertent projectiles.
" Twice in one day I have been brutally attacked by dungbombs; my class was disrupted, my dungeon trashed and half my students are in the infirmary with hysterics!"
Snape paused to take a breath and Albus conjured a goblet to his desk. " Here, drink this."
Snape grabbed the cup and drained it in a single draught. Collapsing into a chair he explained in detail the events of the morning. Dumbledore was hard put to stop himself from chuckling during certain points.
It seemed that George's plan had not exactly had the results he had hoped for. It had been better. When Katie had swung open the door the dungbombs erupted. Not only did they shatter most of the jars of ingredients in the cabinet but the force of the explosion disintegrated the entire cabinet. The entire class was showered with bits of dungbomb, wormroot and other numerous potion ingredients. Katie had been knocked off her feet and slid backwards across the floor. For an instance the room had been deathly silent, then the air had filled with terrified shouts and screams as the shocked students either, tried to rush out the door, ran around the room or just sat on the floor and screeched.
"So you see Albus," Snape snarled, " I am the victim of a some sort of mad bomber. It was those blasted Gryffindors. I know it! You have to do something about it."
Dumbledore look thoughtfully over his glasses.
" No, Severus, you have to do something. I won't condemn any group with out evidence. But, I will give you free rein in attempting to bring these..uh..bombers to justice."
Snape stood and glared at Dumbledore. " O you can be sure I will see that they are caught and punished."
He turned and stormed out of the room slamming the door behind him.
The Headmaster looked at the door, chuckled softly to himself and turned the page.
* * * * *
In the Gryffindor common room, Fred sagged into an armchair. He glanced at George and Lee sitting across from him on a sofa.
George groaned. " Don't worry, next time will be better."
Lee slammed a fist into his arm. " Next time! Next time make sure we aren't in the same room!"
Fred held up a hand. " Ok, obviously it didn't quite work as planned..( "I'll say" said Lee.)....but we still have to get back at Masquer. "
George started to speak but stopped as Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson swept by, supporting a rather pale Katie between them. The glare they gave the trio of boys could have made a basilisk turn tail and run.
" Uh oh..." murmured Fred, "...they suspect something."
George keeping also keeping his voice low, " I dunno, how could they, we didn't tell anyone...our reputation probably just the most likely suspects."
Fred said calmly, " Ok, lets just play it cool and wait for a opportunity to strike again."
Lee and George nodded in silent agreement.
* * * * *
"Quiet!"
Herman Masquer, seventh year Slytherin and defacto leader of the students, bellowed again. "Shut up you little brats and listen to me."
The group of first years, that had been milling around in the Slytherin common room shouting and yelling accusations amidst the jeers of the upperclassmen, slowly quieted down and turned to where Masquer was standing atop a table.
" Listen morons, you guys got hit with a little teeny-weeny practical joke and you're running around blubbering all over the school." Masquer's voice dripped sarcasm. " Slytherins have more dignity than that. Shape up and forget about some dumb ass little joke."
Seeing that his little speech had cowed the first years into submission, Masquer jumped down from the table and was heading over to a group of his cronies when a cold hand descended on his shoulder. Whirling around, he found himself looking into the pale, an dextremely sour face of Severus Snape.
" Uh...hello Professor," Herman said as he took an small step backwards. Snape looked to be in a fouler mood than normal and that boded no good for anybody in his way.
" Masquer." Snape's statement was a command. He crooked a finger and headed off toward an empty corner of the common room, Herman trailing reluctantly behind.
Snape beckoned Herman to take a seat and then fixed him with a cold stare. " You have heard, no doubt, of the little misadventure that occurred during my class today?" At Masquers nod of agreement, Snape continued. " But what you don't know is that is far bigger than a little teeny-weeny practical joke." Snape's voice dripped sarcasm. " In fact it is a plot to embarrass me and the whole Slytherin house. It must be stopped and the perpetrators caugh and punished.
Masquer looked blankly at the professor. " Er..what does that have to do with me?"
Snape's reply was to the point. " I want your help. Keep an eye out and report anything suspicious to me."
" Um..sure professor...no problem" Herman stammered.
" Good...and don't fail me." With this reassuring remark Snape turned on his heel and strode away.
Chapter IV
Dungbombs and Broomsticks Don't Go Together
"Shhhhhhhhhhh" whispered George as he crept along the dark passage . "We gotta be stealthy about this one."
"Righto, old bean" Fred whispered back.
The third member of this little escapade, Lee, just groaned. " I want to go back to bed."
The three boys were creeping along the passageway leading to the Slytherin Quidditch team's dressing room. It was 6:30 am on a wet, cold November morning and Lee's was thinking wistfully of his warm bed back in Gryffindor tower. George reached the door to the dressing and cautiously pushed it open.
He slid through the half opened door and muttered: "Lumos"
As the pale light from his wand swept across the room to reveal its emptyness, George beckoned Lee and Fred to follow.
" Now, to work." Announced Fred as he swung a heavy bag from off his shoulder. Put dungbombs everywhere you can think of. The Slytherins will have a quidditch practice to remember."
The boys worked as quickly as possible but the room wasn't small and the dungbombs supply kept coming.
" Darn it George, its 7:15" muttered Lee. " Let's get going."
" Hey! Trust me on this. They have practice at 8 o'clock. Everythings fine."
"There!" said Fred, straightening up from where he had been stuffing dungbombs in the shower corners. " Finished!"
"Good" declared Lee " Lets get out."
As he turned toward the door, he paused and listened. The faint clumping of footsteps could be heard approaching from the far end of the passage.
* * * * *
Professor Snape swung his feet out of bed and pulling on his robes headed off toward the main hall. As he strode through the hallways and up a winding staircase, throwing an evil look at a young Ravenclaw student, he ruminated on his search for the dungbombs terrorists. He turned in the main hall and stopped dead as a sudden thought struck him. The first attack! The letters from Christy Blake! Of course.
He wheeled around and half ran back down the stairs, again throwing a nasty look at the students still standing on the stairs, toward his dungeon classroom. Reaching his desk, he threw open his ledger wherein all his students information was kept and watched as the enchanted pages scrolled down quickly.
" Ah ha!" He said out loud. Christy Blake: Born into a half muggle-half wizard family. Oldest of three children. Blonde hair, green eyes. Now a 3rd year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. House: Ravenclaw.
Blonde hair? Green eyes? Ravenclaw? The student he had just passed on the stairway! Snape hurled himself across the room, scattering papers, and flinging the door open, charged toward the base of the staircase.
Christy Blake, good student and, interesting enough, an aspiring writer, was lost in thought. She had just been descending some stairs when a stray thought had struck her. A possible idea for the book she was writing, or trying to write. She hadn't had much success and was a bit drepressed at her failure. So deep in thought in fact that she had scarcely noticed the potions master when he passed her twice. Now she was rudely brought back to reality when the hooked nose of the aforementioned potions teacher appeared 2 inches from her face.
" Miss Blake?" Came Snape's icy voice. " Would you please come to my office."
It was an order not a request. Christy reluctantly picked up her bag and followed Snape into his office. Slamming the door behind him, Snape turned to glare at Christy.
" Miss Blake, do you know what this is?" He flourished the note that had come along with his first batch of dungbombs.
Christy shook her head. " I have no idea Professor. Honestly!"
" Be quiet girl! You know exactly what this is!" Snape voice was quivering with rage as specks of spittle flecked the sides of his mouth. " I want to know what miserable microbes where involved in this! I'll have you and them expelled...if not worse!"
Christy, a bit frightened now, started to back away from the enraged professor. He was still raving and gesticulating as he strode around the room. Christy was sure he had gone off the deep end. She has absolutely no clue what he was talking about. Letters? Dungbombs? What in the world? Slowly, as not to draw the professors attention, she pulled her wand( Willow, 10 inches, unicorn hair), from inside her robes and held it carefully behind her back. As she began inching toward the door, and freedom, Snape pause in his pacing and fixed his attention once more on Christy.
" As for you, I think an extended session of detention with Filch should loosen your tongue. Come with me. " As Snape reached out a hand to grab her arm, Christy whipped her wand from behind her back and yelled:
" Obfuscatorium!"
With a crash of red sparks, thick black smoke accompanied by bright strobing lights, erupted between her and Snape. Plunging toward the door, Christy yanked it open and fled toward the stairs. With a bellow of rage and frustration Snape thrust through the smoke and rushed after her.
As Christy pounded up the stairs and through a hallway, she quickly ran through her options. It seemed like the Professor was insane so: #1 She had to get away from him and, #2 find a good place to hide. As she was thinking this a sudden idea struck her. What about the storage room she had accidently discovered? It was close by and would be a great place to hide.
She pulled up, breathing heavily, in front of a statue of Markov the Mildewed and tapped the wall to the right. A hidden door swung out revealing a room full of dust and cobwebbed covered suits of armor. She sprang inside just as Snape rounded the corner and caught sight of her.
" Stop! You little idiot." He cried as he ran toward her. With no time to shut the door Christy jumped inside the room and crouched down behind the nearest suit of armor.