Larry Snotter and the Stargate of Doom
Chapter 4: The Order of the Kleenex
The following day, just before the start of classes, Colonel O'Neill was summoned to Professor Fumbleforthedoorknob's office.
"Colonel O'Neill, the time has come for me to speak to you of a somewhat delicate matter," said the old headmaster in a low, urgent voice.
"Is someone listening?" Jack looked over his shoulder as though expecting to catch sight of some figure lurking in the shadows.
"No, no," said Fumbleforthedoorknob unconcernedly, before reverting back to his secretive whisper, "I'm just trying to drive the point home that this is a very, very important conversation of most incredible gravity."
"It is?"
"Oh, my, yes." He cleared his throat, peering seriously at the other man over the rims of his spectacles. "Colonel O'Neill, I have called you to my office because I would like to invite you and your team – or, fellow students, I should say – to join The Order of the Kleenex."
Whatever kind of impact Fumbleforthedoorknob had expected these words to make on Jack fell somewhat short of the mark. "The what?"
"The Order," said Fumbleforthedoorknob patiently, as though he was explaining to a child, "Of the Kleenex."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you said... what is it?"
"Actually, we of the Order are not a hundred per cent sure. You see, our order of book five has been a bit late in coming... However," he continued brightly, "All of us quite thought it sounded like some sort of heavy-metal band. For allergy-sufferers, of course. What do you think?"
There was a considerable silence, during which Fumbleforthedoorknob looked expectantly at Jack, and Jack wondered what he was supposed to say. Finally...
"Uh... I've got a class."
The office door had opened and shut before Scralbus Fumbleforthedoorknob had any chance to reply.
Larry first noticed the newcomers in History of Magic, the final class of the day. He noticed them, not because they were sitting right next to him, not due to the obvious age difference between the four and the rest of the class, not because Daniel was talking to him, nor did the fact that Jack was leaning across the table to copy Larry's answers and steal his ink draw his attention.
He had been staring out of the window, an exercise he regularly undertook during classes such as these. Just in case a plot development might fly through it. Larry had been gazing for about thirty minutes, when it occurred to him that what he had first thought to be some sort of distant rock, or hill or something was in fact a head, and residing on the same side of the window as he.
That head was connected to a body, which belonged to a large, bald man in rather ill-fitting Hogwarts robes. Beside him sat a bespectacled fellow, a blonde woman and a man with greying hair.
Larry looked up at the 'giant'. He meant to say who are you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth and what he said instead was, "Thank you."
They all stopped. Daniel stopped talking. Jack stopped copying Larry's work. Sam stopped trying to make sense of what the ghost of Professor Dustbin was saying. Teal'c stopped looking stoic, and raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?" Larry blinked at Daniel, confused by this odd request.
"Okay, sure. Who are you?"
"Uh, I'm Daniel; this is Sam and Jack, and Teal'c." Daniel replied, motioning to each member of SG-1 in turn and wondering why it was he always got stuck with the introductions.
"Oh. I'm Larry."
"Larry Snotter?" Sam queried, "Yeah, we heard about you."
"Oh yeah?" said Larry bitterly, "Yeah that'd be right. I suppose you heard all about how Voldermonterantulaburatticusnort and how he killed my mum and dad only he couldn't kill me, huh? And all about my Scar, and how I have to live with Mangles who hate me? And how I only charge seven sickies for an autograph? IT'S NOT TRUE, DAMMIT; I WON'T GO ANY LOWER THAN FIFTEEN!"
Silence fell.
"Lavender, take Silence down to the Hospital Wing so Madam Pompous can patch up her knee." said Dustbin. The girl complied and Professor Dustbin went back to teaching.
"No, actually your Fumblemumble... whatever guy just told us you were in our class. Guess he forgot to mention scars and autographs." Jack said, in response to Larry's outburst.
"Oh, okay," said Larry, who seemed satisfied by this. "Um, this is Drone and Haerrmoinhaye." He motioned to the seats beside him, only to find that they were empty as the lesson had just ended and all of the students were filing out of the classroom until only Larry, SG-1 and Professor Dustbin were left. The latter shrugged and went to exit through the blackboard.
Thump.
"Oh, blast." Dustbin grumbled, picking himself off the ground and brushing chalk dust off his spectral dress – I mean, robes. "That's the third time that's happened this week!"
Notes: At long last, the next installment! Really sorry for the wait; chapter five shouldn't be so long in coming, though as I've already written about half of it. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed or emailed me! Almost had to check twice to make sure it was really my fic you were talking about half time time. ;) Happy Meal gizmos for all of you!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Stargate SG-1 belong to people with a much higher income than me. I just borrowed them when they weren't looking.