Chapter 23: The Night Continues
Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet had been friends since their first train ride to Hogwarts. They had done almost everything together, from joining the Quidditch team to joining the DA, and their tastes were very much the same. So it seemed only right that when they fell in love, they fell in love together.
With a pair of identical twins.
They hadn't had a double wedding due to circumstances that had gotten out of their control, which Alicia thought was just as well. She probably would have wondered all her life if she had married the right one.
I wouldn't put it past them to prank their own wedding if they got the chance.
But we didn't give them one.
The alter-Marauders had met their matches in more ways than one when the rings had been exchanged. With a little help from Molly, Angelina kept Fred, and Alicia kept George, firmly in line.
After all, to marry a prankster, you really need to be a prankster yourself...
Angelina tapped Alicia's wrist, breaking her out of her reverie. "What?" she whispered.
Angelina pointed ahead.
Ah. Victims at twelve o'clock.
The two Disillusioned and waited.
A group of four girls edged into view. Well, a large piece of cardboard with the ends of nightgowns and eight bare feet poking out from under it edged into view. Several small holes had been poked in it, probably for peeking purposes.
Smart kids. Got themselves a shield.
"Stick, Slip, and Push?" Angelina's voice whispered in her ear.
"Oh yes." Got themselves a ride, too. Only they don't know it yet.
The game had been a favorite at Hogwarts until banned by Filch in Alicia's second year. All that was necessary was a piece of something to sit on – cloth, parchment, even a book would do – a wand, and knowledge of a few charms.
"I'll start with Slip, get them to drop it," Alicia said.
"And then we'll levitate them on and Stick them. Works for me. Ready... go!"
Alicia hit the cardboard with a Slipping Spell, making one of its broad surfaces practically frictionless. The girls lost their hold on the edges and dropped it, squealing.
Angelina shouted "Wingardium Leviosa!" and nabbed two of the girls at once. Alicia got the third one, who was trying to run. The fourth was backed into the wall, apparently hoping a door would open if she just kept trying.
They dropped the screeching children onto the cardboard and hit them with Time-Release Sticking Charms, which would last either for an hour or until removed, whichever was first. Alicia herded the fourth girl on and Stuck her as well.
After a Safety Charm to ensure they didn't fall down any stairs or run into anything harmful, Alicia revealed herself. Angelina did likewise. The girls were clutching each other, whimpering.
"How goes it?" asked Ginny from behind them.
"Excellently," Angelina said. "We're just about to give them a send-off. Care to do the honors?"
"I think I can do that." Ginny walked over to the cardboard. "You'll like this," she told the girls, who were leaning away from her as far as they could. "It's just like a ride at the amusement park. Now, do you want to go straight to start, or do you want to spin?"
"Spin?" squeaked out one girl.
"Are you sure?" Ginny drawled, looking them over. "I don't think you're strong enough to last through all the spinning."
The girls sat up straight. "Are too," one of them said. "Do your worst."
Ginny smiled wickedly. "If you insist."
She leaned down and spun the cardboard hard, then gave it a push. It caromed down the hall, with the girls still clinging to each other and squealing. The squeals actually sounded more excited than frightened at the moment.
"They'll get sick doing that, you know," Alicia said.
"They asked for it." Ginny dusted off her hands. "How long will that last, an hour?"
"Just about." Angelina looked faintly sick herself. "An hour spinning around and bouncing off everything – can you imagine?"
"They'll survive," Alicia said. "They're strong."
"Yes, but are their stomachs?"
"We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"
-----
Fleur Delacour Weasley walked slowly down a hallway, carefully cradling her sleeping son, veela senses alert.
Yes. A number of young males came this way, not so long ago. And how interesting – an older male with them, but still young. A professor, most likely.
What a perfect opportunity.
Although few people knew it, veela had more than one type of allure. There was the young and innocent look, good for luring either similarly young and innocent males or the hardened type who wanted something new. There was the knowledgeable seductress, who appealed to similarly experienced men or fresh blood looking to get initiated. There was the exotic beauty, attractive to those who were interested in the unusual and different.
And there was one other. One rarely used but still quite powerful.
Fleur slipped into her "mother of all" guise.
"Oh, where are ze boys?" she lamented aloud. "I 'ad such plans... such ideas... but no, they were not interested... ah, so sad. No stories for zem."
"Stories?" came a distinct whisper from a nearby classroom.
"Shut up!"
As I thought... "I could 'ave told zem such things, such wonderful tales of dragons and secret treasures, and of tournaments and duels... but I will not tell such things if no one will listen."
"I'm here!" A boy burst out of the room. "I wanna hear!"
"Well, 'ello," Fleur said, smiling at him. "What is your name?"
"Mike. Can you really tell a story about dragons?"
"Oh, yes. Would you like zat?"
The boy nodded fervently.
"Well, Mike, I will tell you about three boys and a girl, not so much older than you, who must fight against dragons to gain golden eggs..."
By the time the story was over, the rest of the boys had apparently become convinced that it was safe to come out and were sitting entranced in the hallway. Even the young man who was a professor was standing in the door of the classroom, fascinated.
Time, I think, for my segue.
"But then, of course, the young people 'ad never faced a veela. Do you know what a veela is?"
The boys shook their heads.
"A veela looks like a woman. She may even carry a baby with 'er, to make people think she is a woman."
The boys were beginning to shift in their places, looking uneasily at Gabriel in the crook of Fleur's arm.
"But she is a terrible creature, always 'ungry, and ze one thing she loves to eat most is little boys."
One of the boys gulped loudly.
"She will begin by telling a story, or giving them sweets, to make them think she is their friend. Then, when they are sitting very close to 'er..."
Fleur leaned forward. Two of the boys started to scoot themselves slowly backwards.
"She takes what she wants. Like zis."
She caught the nearest boy by his shirt. He stared at her, petrified, as the other boys scrambled down the hall, screaming. The young professor retreated quickly into the classroom, looking horrified.
"But I am not 'ungry tonight," Fleur purred at the boy, "so go your way, little one. Before I change my mind."
She released him, and he dashed after his friends.
Fleur conjured up Gabriel's sleeper seat from home and slid him in. One more task.
She turned on her seductress mode full force and slipped into the classroom.
That man deserves a little punishment for not even trying to help those poor boys.
And I haven't driven a man wild in ages.
-----
Shannon Docson was beginning to regret ever taking the job at Goldenrod.
She had always been able to rationalize her methods before. The children were unruly. They needed to be reminded of who was in power. It took a tough image. It took harsh words. And sometimes, with the hardened ones, it took physical force. No one ever needed to know.
But then these strange people showed up. And if, as she had always believed, there was no such thing as magic, they had an awfully good substitute. Whatever it was, magic or trickery, it gave them power. Power which they were using in exactly the same way that she and her fellow professors normally used theirs – to punish wrongdoing severely.
And she didn't like it one little bit when she was on the receiving end.
Is this what the children's lives are like? she wondered. Constant fear, never being sure when someone's going to hit you with a punishment, maybe for something you didn't even do?
"BLUDGER!" a man shouted from around the corner.
What?
Something large and black and round shot down the hall at her.
Oh.
She dropped to the floor, and it soared over her head –
– and did a perfect 180-degree turn in midair and came back at her. She rolled out of the way, and it hit the floor so hard it smashed a hole in the floorboards.
Damn, this thing means business!
It zoomed up again and started coming down – she rolled away –
– but instead of a crunch as the thing hit the floor, she heard a small explosion, and pieces of what she guessed was leather rained down around her.
She looked up to see one of the red-haired men who all looked alike (prissy was the only possible descriptor she could think of), lowering a little stick with a half-sour, half-amused expression on his face. "Sorry about that," he said.
Another of the men rushed around the corner carrying a red ball and a pair of –
Brooms?
"Honest, Charlie, it was an accident! I was trying to make a Quaffle, I swear! I just said the wrong thing."
Please don't tell me they're going to fly on those.
The first man shook his head. "Ronniekins, how you keep staying alive, with your job, I will never know. When was the last time you 'just said the wrong thing' to a Dark wizard?"
"Last week," the other man said promptly. "But I duck fast."
"Yes, well, luckily, so does she," the first man said, waving at Shannon.
"Oh." The second man looked abashed. "Sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean for that to happen. So, you ready?"
"Whenever you are, little bro," the first man said, accepting the broom the other handed him. They mounted them and kicked off.
Yes, I think I have just gone insane.
"Oy, Fred! George!" shouted one of them as they rounded the corner. "Care for a pick-up game?"
I like watching games, said a treacherous little voice in Shannon's head.
She tried to overrule it, but it persisted. They were telling the truth. They don't want anyone to get hurt. And how would it make trouble, just to go and watch?
But they're the enemy, she protested. They're different.
Just because they're different, doesn't make them the enemy. Why not go have a look?
Her feet decided for her, carrying her in the direction of the shouting while her mind was still dithering.
-----
Once again, Molly mused, the gymnasium was becoming a gathering place. But this was for a different reason.
The pick-up game had picked up rather more people than Ron and Charlie had originally intended. Fred and George had indeed been interested. So had Angelina and Alicia, and Bill and Ginny, and of course Harry. Minerva, too, had conjured herself a broom, and was actually captaining one of the teams.
In keeping with the spirit of the night, this was "wands allowed" Quidditch, the more interesting the hex, the better. And it was amazing how often the hexes missed the other players and scored among the Muggles packing one bleacher. There were five people with huge buckteeth, three with twitching ears, and one with wobbly legs, and those were just the ones Molly could see.
But still they don't leave. I wonder why.
Maybe they're hoping that the more they get punished, the faster the night will be over.
Or maybe they're stupid.
Or maybe it was just amazement at people playing a game on flying broomsticks with a big black ball trying to knock them out of the air. Muggles were fascinated by the oddest things.
A ruckus at the gymnasium entrance caught her eye.
Ah, everyone's favorite family is finally here. Who shall I curse this time?
"But I wanna go in! I wanna!" Chester's whining voice rose above the noise the crowd was making, and Molly was inspired. She had used a certain useful spell to get Fred and George to stop similar whining long ago. As a matter of fact, I'm not entirely sure this isn't where their interest in pranks comes from...
She waved Arthur over to tell him what she was planning so he could get into position with his camera. The boy's face when he figures this out should be priceless...
Then she Apparated directly in front of the Dursleys.
"Civililingua," she said carefully, pointing her wand at Chester before his parents had a chance to react.
"Mother," Chester said in an aristocratic tone. "I wish to enter this room. Please permit me entrance." His face, as she had expected, was a study in perplexity. She heard Arthur's camera go off. "What I mean to say is, I desire to observe the entertainment..." Then the boy visibly realized what must have happened to him. "The woman directly before me has cursed my speech, Father! I cannot cease talking in the manner of the people you style as overschooled useless fops!"
"So when does this wear off?" Dudley said through clenched teeth.
"When he learns to speak politely on his own," Molly said. "You should thank me, if that's the way he always acts at home."
Marcie looked about ready to explode.
"Excuse me, please," Molly said, and returned to her seat just in time to see Severus Snape dodge Minerva McGonagall and slip the Quaffle past Percy Weasley to score.
-----
The Quidditch game wrapped up around midnight. The Muggles were encouraged to leave the gym by Fred and George's post-game fireworks show, featuring several rather realistic dragons, which breathed very real fire. The twins contrived to be looking somewhere else entirely at the moment when one of the dragons swooped down and lightly toasted the hair of a fleeing Dudley.
"Time for Phase Two?" Ron-Percy asked Harry-Snape as they allowed their conjured brooms to vanish.
"Yes, I think so. Remus, Phase Two. Want to take first shift?" Harry-Snape called up to the werewolf, who nodded. "There you have it, we'll go first. See you in about half an hour."
The werewolf bounded down the stairs of the bleachers, grinning. "Enjoying yourself, I see," Harry-Snape said, feeling his own smile stretch this face unfamiliarly. "Come on, we have a Headmaster to find. But no biting."
He hadn't known werewolves could pout.
-----
(A/N: Does this chapter work OK? I was a little unsure about it...
Angus Hardie: Hey, that's great – it means I'm not totally dehumanizing them. Mostly, sure, but not totally. They do deserve a little pity. Very little.
emikae: Sorry about puzzlement, thanks for compliments, and I hope you feel better soon!
Kraeg001: Thanks, for compliments and offer both! I may take you up on that...
Annikaya: Over the years, Molly has learned finesse as well as force. She uses them both well. (Doesn't she just. ::tee::)
Lady Cinnibar: Surprisingly fun to read? Were you expecting it not to be?
Nalini213: Thanks for the idea! If I use it I'll credit you!
Stahchild: Nope, sorry, Sirius Black is not alive. Harry's son Sirius is alive, well, and causing mayhem. Thank you for all your compliments. If you notice, most of the numerous Weasley children running around have familiar names – I assume people who survived a war would want to honor those who died. There will be more reference to the war in the sequel, but I won't be spilling everything... I am planning on writing a 7th year fic, after all...
Jypsey: I'm confused. How is my language "supplying a remedy" or "intended to correct or improve deficient skills"? Or did you mean "mediocre" or something like that, instead of "remedial"? Sorry to disappoint you.
Joshua: Lateral thinking, anyone? Sorry, don't mean to confuse, but no public answer just yet. Keep thinking, and thanks.
Tanydwr: Knowing myself, I suggest you run away screaming. Thanks for noticing the linking – my first thoughts about this fic, as the first chapter title suggests, were about parallels. Dudley seems like just the kind of person to perpetuate the cycle. And then one night Helen walked into my head, and it all went from there...
LadyRaven13, harryp123, kateydidnt, Caprice-Ann HedicanKocur: Thank you all so much!
About Elizabeth Petrov – if you guess right, I'll let you know. If not, keep thinking. It will likely be a plot point in a few chapters, so I'm not revealing all yet...
Thanks for reading!)