Self was rather surprised when Professor Sprout announced that it was almost the Christmas holidays. It was not that it was holiday time that startled him, more the fact that Professor Sprout told them in no uncertain terms that they were to all go home because she was not going to put up with the constant stream of owls delivering presents this year. Judging by the serious faces of the older students, this was a potent threat indeed. Self shrugged and emailed his father, asking to come home for Christmas.
He glanced around, searching for his yearmates. Ernie was looking wistfully at Hannah and Susan, who were giggling to one another. Self was immediately suspicious. There were no giggling schoolgirls in Hufflepuff - school rumours to the contrary. This aberrant behaviour was suspicious in the extreme. Self suspected that he had just found the intelligence liaisons. Who would suspect a giggling Hufflepuff?
Shifting his gaze past Ernie, Hannah and Susan, Self noticed Neil staring intently at a computer screen, fingers flying frantically over the keys. As he watched, Neil gave a whoop of delight and his fist shot into the air. An older student leaned over Neil's shoulder and whistled lowly.
"Cedric, he's within a minute of your time," she announced. A dark haired fourth year whipped his head around, grey eyes wide with surprise.
"I'm being challenged by a first year?" Cedric blurted in disbelief. Neil glared at him before returning his gaze to the keyboard.
Eric was making objects move, face very intent. Self stifled a giggle as someone's shoes started to waltz. The left shoe led, while the right followed. It was strangely fascinating.
Zach was talking animatedly to a girl with dark hair. She had a name, but most people just called her 'that anarchist girl.' Self could see why Zach found her so interesting - she encouraged his actions to encourage the house elves to revolt.
And Justin was...nowhere to be found. This was worrisome. No good had ever come of Justin disappearing. He had an unfortunate tendency to appear a few hours later, covered in mud, clutching multitudes of detention slips and a huge grin on his face. No-one ever asked what he had been doing. It wasn't worth it.
"What ya doin'? Justin asked from behind Self. Self shrugged. He wasn't doing anything in particular. It was more of an absent-minded glance around the room. He was saved from explaining this when the computer beeped, signaling that Self had an email. Apparently he was to come home for Christmas, but he would have to share a room with Seamus2, Patrick and Sean2. Self sighed. There was nothing worse than sharing a room with your younger siblings. It could have been worse though. He could have been sharing with Colleen, Mary and Bridget, or Eoin, Sean and Seamus. Self made a face at the thought of sharing a room with his older brothers. They were really silly, always going on about girls and magazines and stupid stuff like that. Oh well. He'd better get his gear together.
Eoin was waiting for him at the train station, tapping his foot impatiently. Self glared at him. It wasn't his fault that the train was late. He said as much to Eoin, who cuffed him lightly. Self gave him a death glare and kicked his suitcase. Three minutes out of school and already he wanted to go back. This thought startled him, as he had thought that he disliked Hogwarts. Evidently his dislike was not as cemented as he first thought. He scowled at this thought and kicked his case again. The case, all too used to this sort of abuse, fell open, spilling Self's belongings onto the ground. Several passers-by looked at him askance as he moodily collected his belongings and shoved them back into the case. Eoin picked up the handle, grabbed Self's collar and dragged them out of the station before Self caused more chaos.
The O'Bugger-Subtlety household was a rather interesting one, with many people appearing and disappearing at various times, wearing expressions of grim determination. This might be due to the fact that it doubled as the local IRA headquarters, or that Mrs. O'Bugger-Subtlety was cooking again. There were many times when Self contemplated the relative merit of a potato, only to conclude that there were none. He had no idea why his mother was so enamoured of them. He remembered asking once, only to receive a smack around the back of the head from Colleen. You never questioned the validity of the potato, the potato simply was.
Apparently Self had arrived home in time for another mission, albeit a rather rushed one. Seeing as it was almost Christmas and all, Patrick O'Bugger-Subtlety Sr. had decided that the Protestant Church down the road had stood for long enough and they would not allow it to sully their fair Ireland any more. Self thought cynically that the Protestants might have had the same idea, and the Catholic Church might not be standing after the Christmas holidays either. After thinking this through, Self was horrified at himself. And yet, it made sense.
Self stormed off into the bedroom and slammed the door. It would have been a suitably dramatic moment, had there been a door. Unfortunately, a groundsheet really doesn't compare. Patrick looked up in curiousity, noticed Self, scowled at him and returned to his book. Self considered throwing something at him, but decided against it. Instead, he decided that sulking would be a useful plan.
However, time, or explosives, waits for no man, and so Self found himself assisting in the destruction of the church. He had decided that it was purely practice for his own mission, which in his mind had shifted from "blow the self-righteous English pigs off the planet" to "show those self-righteous Gryffindors, snobby Ravenclaws and stupidly ambitious Slytherins that Hufflepuffs are not to messed with", although he would never admit it to anyone else. Bridget elbowed him sharply in the ribs and Self passed her the nails. She grunted in thanks and continued making her part of the bomb. He delicately poured in the accelerant, making sure not to disrupt it more than what was strictly necessary. He really didn't want to have to explain to Professor Sprout that the reason why he wasn't returning to Hogwarts was because he'd killed himself and was now a disembodied spirit bound to the shed in his parents' back yard. Somehow he doubted that would go over well at all.
Mary smacked him on the back of the head and Self jerked in surprise. He glanced down at his bomb, only to be surprised to see that all the accelerant was already in there. He blinked in bewildered bafflement. Mary sighed and took the bomb out of his hands.
"You'll be staying behind tonight," she commented. "You can watch from the window." Self opened his mouth to protest, but closed it under her baleful glare. "You've been staring off into space, doing nothing – don't you argue with me, Selfinsertion, I've seen it! We can't risk it!" Self glared. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to stay back with all the little kids? Hogwarts couldn't come soon enough. At least there they treated him like an adult, not some little kid who needed his hand held all the time.
The explosion wasn't all that good anyway, or so Self told himself. He really didn't want to be there, helping them out. He didn't mind staying at home with the little kids. Not at all.
He doubted that his housemates were stuck with the little kids. It wasn't fair. He wanted to go back, where he could get involved. At Hogwarts, he wasn't just someone who could pour accelerant into an explosive, he was part of something important, and he wasn't dismissed as being too little to help. If he was at Hogwarts, he'd be with other kids. He'd be allowed to use his magic. It wasn't fair and Self wanted to go back.
It was time to revitalize the campaign to demonstrate Hufflepuff superiority. Self pushed himself upright away from the window, casting one last wistful glance at the Protestant church burning merrily. He had letters to write and things to organise before he returned to Hogwarts.
Author note: This is as angsty as it gets, people. Never fear, next chapter will have the Badgers back together.