Disclaimer, I own nothing you recognise, with the exception of Eric Chant, who (sadly) belongs to Diana Wynne Jones. Go Cat!
After dinner, Dumbledore stood up. The upper year Hufflepuffs groaned quietly. The first years looked confused.
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students," Dumbledore began. Self resolved to visit this forbidden forest as soon as possible. It couldn't possibly be as bad as his mother's screaming fits; they were legendary.
"And the third floor corridor is out of bounds for anyone that does not want to die a most painful death," Dumbledore concluded. The Gryffindors laughed. Self hated them instantly. Couldn't they tell that the man was serious? The Gryffindor area was going to be the first to go.
Finally the food appeared. Self watched in horror as normally human students metamorphosed into slavering beasts, beating one another over the head with drumsticks. Sneaking a hand under the table, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a chocolate bar. Sneaking surrepticious glances around the room, he tore off the wrapper and bit into the chocolate. Evidently he would have to write home and beg for a care package as soon as possible. He doubted that he would be eating any of the food here, thank you very much.
"And now, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore enthused. The teachers' faces tightened and lines of strain appeared around their mouths. Some of the more enterprising Hufflepuffs pulled out pink fluffy earmuffs. Self's eyebrows reached his hairline. Was the school song that bad?
Yes.
Finally the torment petered into a drone from two Gryffindors. Definitely knock off the Gryffindors first. Dumbledore said something inane, but Self wasn't all that interested. He was sure that his ears were bleeding and kept checking. He caught a glimpse of other first years doing something similar.
"First years! Hufflepuff First years!" a girl called. Self stood up and walked over to her. She tapped her foot while the rest of the first years meandered toward her. Once they had all arrived she stormed away, her black robes streaming behind her, making her look like an overgrown bat. Self sniggered at the mental image.
She stopped in front of a blank wall and rapped a quick staccato on a sequence of bricks with her wand. The bricks disappeared. Self was not impressed, he had been to Diagon Alley after all. She shepherded the group through the door, then whispered something under her breath. The bricks reappeared. Self rested his hand against one and grinned when he realised that the bricks were an illusion. The darkness lifted as a series of lights lit up, allowing a view that seemed to stretch into eternity.
However, he was not given time to ponder this as the group was moving forward. Self was somewhat startled when the group seemed to disappear until he realised that they had gone through an unlit passageway and the lights were just an illusion. That was cool.
The girl, probably a prefect, stopped outside a door.
"Oi! Mind letting us in?" she called.
"What's the password?" someone yelled back. She sighed heavily and shook her head.
"The repressive regime will no longer be tolerated," she called out. The door remained closed.
"Come on, just let us in!" she shouted, kicking the door. Self wondered what this achieved, apart from a sore foot.
"You know I can't," someone replied. "That was last year's password. Come on, it's not hard!" The girl rolled her eyes and tapped her foot in annoyance. She scowled in frustration, then her expression cleared, only to be replaced with a martyred expression.
"Dumbledore smokes pot," she called back resignedly. The door creaked open, revealing yet another passage. "Must get around to changing that," she commented quietly. "Some people just lack subtlety."
Once everyone was inside the passageway, the door slammed shut, leaving them in darkness.
"Bollocks," the girl commented and whispered something. The lights switched on. There was a painting of a man holding a lot of fireworks and wearing Elizabethan clothing. Self frowned as he tried to work out who it was. Must have been English, although he was sure that he knew who it was.
"Hufflepuff common room," she said clearly.
"And who the hell are you?" the painting replied. The girl sighed.
"Renee Macmillan, fifth year prefect. Now let us in!"
"And they are?"
"First years! Let us in, Guy!" The painting looked affronted at her tone.
"There's no need to take that tone with me, young lady! Are they parliament supporters?" he demanded.
"No," Renee replied, exasperated. The painting shifted to reveal a door and a metal plate.
"Right. Now, one at a time, walk up to the door, put your wand hand on the metal plate and say your full name and that you're in Hufflepuff. The scanner will read your handprint, confirm that you are in Hufflepuff and will open the door. Any questions?"
"What if it decides that we aren't in Hufflepuff?" a girl with pigtails asked.
"It'll cut your hand off," Renee replied nonchalantly. "Tends to discourage people that way. Who wants to go first?" She smiled brightly. Everyone looked at each other nervously. No-one wanted to have their hand cut off on their first day. Self rolled his eyes and stepped up to the door.
"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety and I am in Hufflepuff," he said clearly, placing his right hand gingerly on the scanner. Apparently he was in Hufflepuff as the door opened, revealing a lift. Selfinsertion stepped inside and the door slammed behind him.
"Hello, Selfinsertion," Guy commented. "Thinking of starting your year with a bang?"
"I'd rather end my year with a bang, thank you," Self replied politely. "Who are you?"
"Guy Fawkes," Guy replied. "You've passed the final test, so off to the common room!" The lift zoomed upwards and Self stumbled. It was a short ride, so either the common room was not far off the ground or the lift was going really fast. Probably the latter, Self decided. The door opened and Self stepped into the common room.
It was big, much bigger then his gutted car. Then again, it would be hard to fit everyone in his car, as it was hard enough for just his father and himself. There were recliner chairs everywhere, each with a state of the art computer. Self wondered how they could work, considering that none of his little electronic 'gadgets' worked. He resolved to find out how in the immediate future.
An older boy stuck his head into the common room, closely followed by the rest of his body. He smiled engagingly at Self and gestured toward one of the chairs.
"Sit down, the rest of your year will be here shortly," he said warmly. "I'm Michael Zabini."
"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety," Self offered. Michael's smile widened.
"Any relation to Patrick O'Bugger-Subtlety?" he asked.
"My father," Self replied. Michael's smile looked suspiciously as if it was about to crack his face in half.
"Hey guys!" he yelled over his shoulder. "We've got Pat O'Bugger-Subtlety's son!" Whoops and cheers could be heard from the corridor. Self frowned. Normally people didn't respond like that when he said who his father was, he generally got dirty looks or death threats. This school was a seriously strange place.
The lift opened and Justin stepped out. He grinned at Self.
"Our painting is Guy Fawkes!" he hissed. "Isn't that cool!"
"He's the only one of the English scum that I admire," Self replied. "Anyone that tries to blow up parliament is a hero of mine. I didn't know he was a wizard though."
The lift hissed open and a girl stepped out.
"There's about ten people left," she commented. "Oh, and I'm to tell you to sit down at one of the chairs and everything will be explained when Renee gets here." Self shrugged and sat down at the back of the room, as close to the exit as possible. He had learnt from experience that if a bomb's been set nearby, an escape route is always handy.
The computer screen flashed at him and Self looked down. 'Place your hand on the screen,' was printed in glowing green letters. Self put his left hand down, reasoning that if it got electrocuted, he would still be able to write. The screen flashed once, then 'Welcome to the Hufflepuff Network, Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety' appeared on the screen. Self whistled in amazement, then began a search for minesweeper, reasoning that every computer had minesweeper on it.
He still hadn't found it when Renee walked into the room and headed toward the front. She sat down at the main computer, placed her hand on the screen, then rapped a staccato. The wall behind her changed from a painting of some insipid scenery into a projection screen and a stylised badger appeared.
"Welcome to the Hufflepuff Resistance," Renee began. "Before we begin, this room being constantly being swept for explosives, so if any of you have some strapped to your body, please remove them now. " No-one moved. "This means you, Ernie," she said pointedly at a boy that Self was sure was her brother. He grumbled and started to remove the C4 strapped to his torso. Self was unimpressed. Surely he knew that suicide bombing was the most stupid thing to do. It's almost impossible to do a repeat performance afterwards for one.
"How many of you were horrified to find yourself in Hufflepuff? Be honest." Three people raised their hands. "Mind telling us why? Susan, you go first." The girl with pigtails looked down at her computer monitor.
"My sister said that Hufflepuff is where all the rejects go, because no-one else wants them," she whispered to the monitor. "She's in Gryffindor," she added.
"My brother said that I'd be disowned if I were in Hufflepuff," another girl commented.
"My aunt told me that if I wasn't in Slytherin, my parents would roll in their graves," a boy added.
"Let me guess, your parents were in Slytherin or Gryffindor. Am I right, Katie?" Renee asked. The little girl nodded miserably. "Let me tell you a bit about myself. I'm a Macmillan, and we've been in Hufflepuff since the beginning of time, or the founding of Hogwarts, which ever came first. As such, my family has a somewhat unique view of this particular house. To put it bluntly, the other houses are overrated. Ravenclaws are all right, and they make fantastic intelligence agents. In fact there's a first year girl that, according to her records, could be something exceptional. Slytherin and Gryffindor on the other hand, quite frankly, are one and the same in their stupidity. Slytherins spend too much time back-stabbing one another to actually achieve anything, while the Gryffindors are too intent on personal glory to even consider working together. As such, any scheme they come up with is doomed.
"We, on the other hand, do not suffer these flaws. We are quite capable of working together to achieve our goals, and we never fail at them. If we decide we want something, we'll get it. Hufflepuffs make the best assassins, terrorists and dictators, because of our ability to work diligently toward a goal. If Voldemort had been sorted into Hufflepuff, he'd still be here now. With me so far?" Everyone nodded.
"As members of Hufflepuff house, you will be required to attend lectures on various topics, ranging from explosives to holding onto power once you have it. These lectures are compulsory and a roll will be marked, although it shouldn't be necessary. The Sorting Hat saw that you all have the qualities for our house and it has never been wrong.
"However, does anyone want out?" No one raised his or her hands. "Are you sure? Good. Now I'm well aware that most of you have a personal stash of objects that most professors would disapprove of. If any of it's electrical, you may have noticed that it doesn't work here. Feel free to leave it with Professor Sprout and she'll charm it so it'll work here. Just don't let any non-Hufflepuff teachers see it." Renee smiled.
"Any questions?"
"When do we get to blow stuff up?" Ernie asked. Renee rolled her eyes.
"In potions. Just act incompetent and Snape will eventually come to expect it. He's remarkably obliging that way."
"How do we get here without you?" Susan asked. Renee slapped her hand against her forehead.
"Can't believe I forgot that. You'll be issued with identification cards that are linked to your magic. That's why you had to put your wand hand on the scanner. Lose that, and your life is forfeit. Anything else?" Everyone shook their heads. "Your stuff's already in your rooms, now go fight over who gets which bed. The girls are in the first room on the right, the boys on the left. Get!" The first years scampered, Self among them. If Renee was to believed, her heritage was even more renowned then his own, and there was no way he was going to cross her this early in the game.
By the time Self elbowed his way to the first year boys room, all of the beds with the exception of the one closest to the door had already been taken. Self grinned. Apparently he was the only one who knew about escape routes.
"I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley," Justin called from his bed near the window.
"Ernie Macmillan," the boy who previously was wearing his body weight in C4 added. "Renee's my sister."
"Neil Rethelian," a small, dark haired boy continued.
"Eric Chant," a tall blond boy called.
"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety," Self added.
"So," Ernie asked. "Who's a member of what? I'm with the IRA Supporters." Self was startled at this admission. He was even more startled at the next few revelations.
"Boy Scouts," Justin and Eric replied. At the incredulous looks the other boys gave them they protested, "Do you have any idea what they teach you in the Boy Scouts?"
"Hooligans and Juvenile Delinquents, Edinburgh branch," Neil answered.
"Junior IRA," Self replied. "If the mission goes well though, the IRA itself."
"And what's that?" Eric asked curiously. Self wondered whether he could safely tell them, then remembered that there was a spell for removing memories.
"To blow up Hogwarts," he replied finally. There was an awed silence.
"Do you want any help?" Justin asked.
Authors Note: Nice to know that my little parody is so well received! I even got a new beta reader from it (woohoo!). Thanks be to the honourable Lady Faith Lestrange who was subjected to the sheer stupidity of this fic and had to wrestle it into submission.