Eh, sorry for the lack of update yesterday; I actually got some sleep
last night, surprise-surprise. Right shocked me it did. And, since I
can't stand to have not put three chapters up in one go, I'll (try) to
get one up tomarrow (if not then, then wednesday).
lollipozz - *nods* Yeah, I know. FF.net likes not 'llowing us multiple
reviews per chapter. I think it's to keep up from spamming. Ah-ha! I
have UPDATED SOON! *poses, and joins in the manacial laughter from your
ch43 review*
sephiroth - You know, I never actually thought about that. I just went
though a list of names in my head and went, hey, that one sounds cool!
Knowing me, I probably subconsciously remembered it ^__^ I do that
alot.
jasmyn - You reviewed lots...
Weird - Quite... possibily. Maybe not. Elves are fun.
An American Weapon: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1191505
Black Rose's awesome Spin-Off
Never fear, it's still here: http://icetemple.tripod.com/
Still lacking members. -.-;;
Retyping this again and again, is really tiring. I don't own Harry
Potter.
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Forty-Four: Rabbit
The Itch
---
There are few things in this world more annoying than finding out that
your pet cat has just clawed the hell out of your furniture.
Finding out that you no longer had any spies in your enemy's stronghold
is one of them. Therefore, Tom "Lord Voldemort" Riddle, had a fairly
valid excuse for throwing a temper tantrum like a two year old.
His classy apartment, situated atop his muggle "medical" research
facility had been torn to absolute shreds. The only thing not looking
any worse for wear was Rilos, and that was only because the oversized,
stuffed blue snake had been draped over his shoulders like a feather
boa. To say he was upset would be an understatement. The children of
his death eaters had been spies, and all those that had been in
Hogwarts had either died or defected to whomever was in control over
there-- he had no idea, since Dumbledore was now, officially, deceased.
Snape, the spy he liked to toy with the most, was still alive, but
Voldemort assumed it was to be tortured for information.
It wasn't like Snape broadcast that he was a spy to anyone but
Dumbledore. And it was highly unlikely that anyone would believe him,
what with the dark mark burned into his arm.
But not only that... good old Daemon Wolfos was dead.
His best friend. Dead!
Whoever killed him would pay!
Raging, he began to pick up the broken furniture and slam it repeatedly
into the walls and floor, making several incoherent noises as he did
so. Grief was a funny thing. Especially when one did not wish to admit
that he was actually grieving. He was just... in a rage because he's
lost his informants, and Wolfos.
Oh, and he was planning the brutal demise of his best friend's killer.
---
"Always we search for the answers, but nothing is found... we fly away
again... I will, fly away again, oh I will, fly away again. And I feel
rain pouring down... I wait to run away, live again," Nathaniel
whispered under his breath, bobbing his head to the familiar tunes of
Godsmack. He'd memorized all the songs on the disc Marie had given
him-- not to mention on the other discs he'd had her burn since they'd
gotten a CD burner a few years back-- and was now trying to calm his
rattled nerves.
He was in the Head Office of the Ministry of Magic, hidden beneath
Draco's-- Harry absolutely refused to let Calaveras borrow his--
Invisibility Cloak, creeping around in a desperate attempt to find
Fudge or some other high ranking official. According to Harry, he was
supposed to be depositing a letter on one of the higher-ups' desk, to
be found... whenever.
He'd already visited the Daily Prophet building, depositing a "special
article" on Rita Skeeter's desk. Hermione had written it in such a way
that Rita wouldn't _have_ to change all that much about it to make is
as outrageously impossible. Skeeter would print what they wanted, and
nothing else. Heh, the article had a compulsion charm on it, to make
sure that she read it, and put it in the wizarding newspaper.
They were going to make sure that _nothing_ went wrong. Manipulation
was one of a Malfoy's best skills, and Draco was putting his talents to
the test; if everything went off without a hitch, things were be
perfect. Even if things went wrong, Ron's clairvoyant talent would give
them an idea of how to fix things, so that the Balance would come into
being the way it was supposed to.
It was a brilliant plan. One that hinged on the idiocy of Fudge, and
the downfall of both Ministry and Voldemort.
Nate supported it with what was left of his shattered soul. Even if the
bitter thought that if the Weapons had merely started their plots even
a month earlier, his sort-of... okay, his best friend wouldn't have
killed himself. There would have been a focus other than the fact that
the brown-haired Slytherin would be pressured into becoming a Death
Eater by his step-father.
He shook his head of such melancholy thoughts as he reached the door
labeled "Minister of Magic: Cornelius Fudge". He was very careful,
opening the door slowly, and peering in before slipping inside. Oh, he
knew Katar had said that it was unlikely there was actually any traps
or whatnot, but... well... Nate had seen a _lot_ of muggle movies, and
he wasn't up for being killed for doing something stupid.
"Consider me your apprentice, repented, yet hesitant... Please, show me
a sign... come inside..." he hummed, having switched tracks from
Godsmack to Alien Ant Farm at some point. The office was empty, for
which he was eternally grateful for. Steps as quiet as he could make
them, he crept up to the desk, withdrawing a note from within his
robes.
The Ravenclaw was wearing gloves, just incase one of the wizards was
smart enough to do a dusting for fingerprints. Not that wizards would
ever use something that mundane-- which was why the note had been
written by Gunn, while under polyjuice potion, which would make her
look like one of the recently deceased students at Hogwarts. Not only
that, but his gloves had been sprayed with some potion that was
supposed to prevent tracking.
Being found out at this stage of the game was not in the plans.
With the note delivered, the multicolored haired teenager slipped back
out of the office, dodging workers here and there. He was almost
skittishly afraid to touch anything female. Once he was outside, and a
good four blocks away, he breathed a sigh of relief, sweeping the cloak
off, and jamming it into the small pack on his back. He'd had to forgo
bring his bass guitar, which annoyed him to no end, but hell be damned
if he wasn't going to bring something to occupy that space on his back
that felt so odd, so cold, without it's comforting presence. Hence that
helpful little backpack.
Which was all that more helpful, thirty seconds later, when the white
rabbit with purple, blue and red streaks in it's fur managed to crawl
out of it's clothing. An annoyed scowl was sent in the direction of the
woman that had slamming into him and caused his transformation, idly
noting that neither she-- nor anyone else-- had noted the change. He
really, really, really, _really_ hated Schlatter's relatives' ideas of
"punishment".
With a bunny-grumble, the rabbit awkwardly shoved his robes into his
back, and wriggled into the straps of the backpack, waiting for the
magic imbued material to resize for his bunny-body size and shape. Once
that happened, he shot off in a random direction.
Now he just had to go find someone female to hug him, so that he could
change back.
---
They were in the Ravenclaw common room, searching for pages and papers
that had been ripped out a good two decades earlier.
Like Harry had said: This was going to be so much _fun_.
Ginny kicked at one of the plush navy arm chairs in frustration. They'd
been in here for three hours already, and hadn't found any reason that
they should even be in the room. There was absolutely no sign of the
papers. Not that anyone aside from Harry had expected them to still be
there.
It _had_ been twenty years, after all.
And what _exactly_, was their esteemed leader doing? Trying to become
one with the wall? Curious, the short-haired teenager padded quietly
over to his side, attempting to see what was so great about the wall
that Harry was pressed flat against it, up on his tip-toes, fingers
extended all the way.
"Harry...?"
"Hold on, just a sec," he muttered into the stone of the room,
stretching to get all that much more reach. Then, like he'd suddenly
realized something, and he was just being really stupid, he stepped
back, and Weapon came forwards, shooting him from five to seven feet in
height. It was much easier to reach the small indentation that had
called the sixteen year old's attention, now. The winged monstrosity
that the good students and staff of Hogwarts had pledged their
allegiance to slipped taloned finger-tips into the crack, silver eyes
lighting up as they came in contact with... something.
There was a soft 'click' that echoed throughout the commons, calling
the attention of Hermione, Ron, Draco, Sirius, and Katar. But it was
only for a moment that they looked towards Potter, because seconds
later there was the grinding screech of something stone moving across
more stone, and the far wall-- to Harry-- dropped into the floor,
leaving a deep, dark passage in it's wake. They gave only a few moments
of contemplation on why, exactly, magic had not been used, before
Hermione helpfully supplied that the castle had been designed and built
by muggles, then sold to wizards, who enchanted it.
Obviously, they never bothered to remove some of the original muggle
secret passage entrances. Shrugging to one another, the group-- minus
Katar and Sirius, who had promised a group of second years to train,
and were already ten minutes late-- entered the darkness, wondering
what they'd find. Ron decided to be helpful, withdrawing his wand and
muttering "Lumos".
The magical light flickered oddly off the inner workings of the
passage, jutting corners casting dark shadows, and generally being
creepy. Ron very, very, very carefully steered his mind away form the
thought that spiders could be living in the dark. The rest of the
group, Weapons and Enchantress, felt no reason to be disturbed by the
darkness, and used Ron's wand much like a flashlight as they dived
deeper, and deeper into the pits of Hogwarts.
Harry made a note to himself to remember to change the name to
something more... befitting of the Balance. The Center couldn't have a
name that didn't fit with his plans. It had to be something...
impressive. And even though Hogwarts was known wizarding-world wide, it
just... didn't sound right, for a place that would house the soon to be
ruler of both muggle and wizarding worlds, Gunn.
He briefly wondered if he should gather up the rest of the Living
Weapons world wide, before setting himself back on task. Finding a way
to eliminate Tom Marvolo Riddle for good.
---
Dean Thomas blinked several times as a rather... colorful... rabbit
made it's way past him as he stretched out his back from a rather
painful work out at the hands of Sirius Black. He was just glad that he
only had to stick around for fifteen minutes before claiming he'd been
training for a couple hours, just so he could escape. The convict was
very, very, very scary when he got it into his head that everyone
needed training. He wished Professor Lupin was at the school.
Ron had said that Lupin had managed to keep Black's more...
psychotic... ideas checked. Most of the time. He _really_ wanted Lupin
here, just so he wouldn't have to go through that exercise again.
Which is what he blamed the colorful rabbit on. There was no way a
snowy white rabbit could have blue, purple and red markings. Just no
way.
However, the non-existent rabbit was getting very annoyed. He'd been
running around trying to find someone to change him back-- after
apparating near schools grounds; hey he was seventeen, he had a
license!-- and not being all that successful of it. Finally, he decided
that he would track down Hermione or Virginia and get one of them to
change him back.
Preferably Ginny, since he had been told about the Weapons' lack of
sexual urges. She might tease him, but he wouldn't have to worry about
her jumping him.
Yes, Nathaniel Calaveras was deathly afraid of girls hitting on him. He
was perfectly fine with friendships with girls, and he could flirt like
a pro-- but he would always start freaking out if one flirted back. And
not a normal, quiet type of freaking out, where they end up stuttering
and blushing. This was serious freaking out.
The kind that generally had the person who was freaking out running
away at top speed, and eventually slamming headlong into a wall, or a
door, or a desk or something that stopped momentum. Nate had once run
headlong into the forbidden forest while freaking out. It was not
exactly something he liked to broadcast; his ability to go stark raving
bonkers when confronted with a girl hitting on him.
Girls were scary.
Which made his punishment all that more effective, considering he'd
never willingly go to a girl to get hugged and changed back to normal.
This also explained why he never let girls touch him; well, he never
let them touch him _before_ Schlatter's family had cursed him, but it
was even a better excuse now. Anything more than a handshake with
someone of the female side of the species had him turning into a cute
widdle bunny rabbit.
Now, if he could only _find_ Miss Weasley, everything would be A-okay.
Too bad for him, that she was skulking around in the bowels of
Hogwarts, looking for the missing pages of a oversized, ancient
textbook, ripped up by one Lily Evans. Poor Nate.
Looks like he's going to be stuck as a rabbit for a little bit longer.
Heh.
---
End Chapter
I had a bit of writer's block about what I was going to do with the
Weapons, so I decided we were going to follow Nate around for a little
bit, so that I can figure out what I want them to do.
Black Rose; I figure I should write a couple characters out so that
they can go play with Rosanna. I just don't know when I should do that.
Or how, for that matter... ^.^;; Hmm, maybe we should talk about this
over email, so that we can figure it out...?
last night, surprise-surprise. Right shocked me it did. And, since I
can't stand to have not put three chapters up in one go, I'll (try) to
get one up tomarrow (if not then, then wednesday).
lollipozz - *nods* Yeah, I know. FF.net likes not 'llowing us multiple
reviews per chapter. I think it's to keep up from spamming. Ah-ha! I
have UPDATED SOON! *poses, and joins in the manacial laughter from your
ch43 review*
sephiroth - You know, I never actually thought about that. I just went
though a list of names in my head and went, hey, that one sounds cool!
Knowing me, I probably subconsciously remembered it ^__^ I do that
alot.
jasmyn - You reviewed lots...
Weird - Quite... possibily. Maybe not. Elves are fun.
An American Weapon: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1191505
Black Rose's awesome Spin-Off
Never fear, it's still here: http://icetemple.tripod.com/
Still lacking members. -.-;;
Retyping this again and again, is really tiring. I don't own Harry
Potter.
---
Blackened Sunrise
Chapter Forty-Four: Rabbit
The Itch
---
There are few things in this world more annoying than finding out that
your pet cat has just clawed the hell out of your furniture.
Finding out that you no longer had any spies in your enemy's stronghold
is one of them. Therefore, Tom "Lord Voldemort" Riddle, had a fairly
valid excuse for throwing a temper tantrum like a two year old.
His classy apartment, situated atop his muggle "medical" research
facility had been torn to absolute shreds. The only thing not looking
any worse for wear was Rilos, and that was only because the oversized,
stuffed blue snake had been draped over his shoulders like a feather
boa. To say he was upset would be an understatement. The children of
his death eaters had been spies, and all those that had been in
Hogwarts had either died or defected to whomever was in control over
there-- he had no idea, since Dumbledore was now, officially, deceased.
Snape, the spy he liked to toy with the most, was still alive, but
Voldemort assumed it was to be tortured for information.
It wasn't like Snape broadcast that he was a spy to anyone but
Dumbledore. And it was highly unlikely that anyone would believe him,
what with the dark mark burned into his arm.
But not only that... good old Daemon Wolfos was dead.
His best friend. Dead!
Whoever killed him would pay!
Raging, he began to pick up the broken furniture and slam it repeatedly
into the walls and floor, making several incoherent noises as he did
so. Grief was a funny thing. Especially when one did not wish to admit
that he was actually grieving. He was just... in a rage because he's
lost his informants, and Wolfos.
Oh, and he was planning the brutal demise of his best friend's killer.
---
"Always we search for the answers, but nothing is found... we fly away
again... I will, fly away again, oh I will, fly away again. And I feel
rain pouring down... I wait to run away, live again," Nathaniel
whispered under his breath, bobbing his head to the familiar tunes of
Godsmack. He'd memorized all the songs on the disc Marie had given
him-- not to mention on the other discs he'd had her burn since they'd
gotten a CD burner a few years back-- and was now trying to calm his
rattled nerves.
He was in the Head Office of the Ministry of Magic, hidden beneath
Draco's-- Harry absolutely refused to let Calaveras borrow his--
Invisibility Cloak, creeping around in a desperate attempt to find
Fudge or some other high ranking official. According to Harry, he was
supposed to be depositing a letter on one of the higher-ups' desk, to
be found... whenever.
He'd already visited the Daily Prophet building, depositing a "special
article" on Rita Skeeter's desk. Hermione had written it in such a way
that Rita wouldn't _have_ to change all that much about it to make is
as outrageously impossible. Skeeter would print what they wanted, and
nothing else. Heh, the article had a compulsion charm on it, to make
sure that she read it, and put it in the wizarding newspaper.
They were going to make sure that _nothing_ went wrong. Manipulation
was one of a Malfoy's best skills, and Draco was putting his talents to
the test; if everything went off without a hitch, things were be
perfect. Even if things went wrong, Ron's clairvoyant talent would give
them an idea of how to fix things, so that the Balance would come into
being the way it was supposed to.
It was a brilliant plan. One that hinged on the idiocy of Fudge, and
the downfall of both Ministry and Voldemort.
Nate supported it with what was left of his shattered soul. Even if the
bitter thought that if the Weapons had merely started their plots even
a month earlier, his sort-of... okay, his best friend wouldn't have
killed himself. There would have been a focus other than the fact that
the brown-haired Slytherin would be pressured into becoming a Death
Eater by his step-father.
He shook his head of such melancholy thoughts as he reached the door
labeled "Minister of Magic: Cornelius Fudge". He was very careful,
opening the door slowly, and peering in before slipping inside. Oh, he
knew Katar had said that it was unlikely there was actually any traps
or whatnot, but... well... Nate had seen a _lot_ of muggle movies, and
he wasn't up for being killed for doing something stupid.
"Consider me your apprentice, repented, yet hesitant... Please, show me
a sign... come inside..." he hummed, having switched tracks from
Godsmack to Alien Ant Farm at some point. The office was empty, for
which he was eternally grateful for. Steps as quiet as he could make
them, he crept up to the desk, withdrawing a note from within his
robes.
The Ravenclaw was wearing gloves, just incase one of the wizards was
smart enough to do a dusting for fingerprints. Not that wizards would
ever use something that mundane-- which was why the note had been
written by Gunn, while under polyjuice potion, which would make her
look like one of the recently deceased students at Hogwarts. Not only
that, but his gloves had been sprayed with some potion that was
supposed to prevent tracking.
Being found out at this stage of the game was not in the plans.
With the note delivered, the multicolored haired teenager slipped back
out of the office, dodging workers here and there. He was almost
skittishly afraid to touch anything female. Once he was outside, and a
good four blocks away, he breathed a sigh of relief, sweeping the cloak
off, and jamming it into the small pack on his back. He'd had to forgo
bring his bass guitar, which annoyed him to no end, but hell be damned
if he wasn't going to bring something to occupy that space on his back
that felt so odd, so cold, without it's comforting presence. Hence that
helpful little backpack.
Which was all that more helpful, thirty seconds later, when the white
rabbit with purple, blue and red streaks in it's fur managed to crawl
out of it's clothing. An annoyed scowl was sent in the direction of the
woman that had slamming into him and caused his transformation, idly
noting that neither she-- nor anyone else-- had noted the change. He
really, really, really, _really_ hated Schlatter's relatives' ideas of
"punishment".
With a bunny-grumble, the rabbit awkwardly shoved his robes into his
back, and wriggled into the straps of the backpack, waiting for the
magic imbued material to resize for his bunny-body size and shape. Once
that happened, he shot off in a random direction.
Now he just had to go find someone female to hug him, so that he could
change back.
---
They were in the Ravenclaw common room, searching for pages and papers
that had been ripped out a good two decades earlier.
Like Harry had said: This was going to be so much _fun_.
Ginny kicked at one of the plush navy arm chairs in frustration. They'd
been in here for three hours already, and hadn't found any reason that
they should even be in the room. There was absolutely no sign of the
papers. Not that anyone aside from Harry had expected them to still be
there.
It _had_ been twenty years, after all.
And what _exactly_, was their esteemed leader doing? Trying to become
one with the wall? Curious, the short-haired teenager padded quietly
over to his side, attempting to see what was so great about the wall
that Harry was pressed flat against it, up on his tip-toes, fingers
extended all the way.
"Harry...?"
"Hold on, just a sec," he muttered into the stone of the room,
stretching to get all that much more reach. Then, like he'd suddenly
realized something, and he was just being really stupid, he stepped
back, and Weapon came forwards, shooting him from five to seven feet in
height. It was much easier to reach the small indentation that had
called the sixteen year old's attention, now. The winged monstrosity
that the good students and staff of Hogwarts had pledged their
allegiance to slipped taloned finger-tips into the crack, silver eyes
lighting up as they came in contact with... something.
There was a soft 'click' that echoed throughout the commons, calling
the attention of Hermione, Ron, Draco, Sirius, and Katar. But it was
only for a moment that they looked towards Potter, because seconds
later there was the grinding screech of something stone moving across
more stone, and the far wall-- to Harry-- dropped into the floor,
leaving a deep, dark passage in it's wake. They gave only a few moments
of contemplation on why, exactly, magic had not been used, before
Hermione helpfully supplied that the castle had been designed and built
by muggles, then sold to wizards, who enchanted it.
Obviously, they never bothered to remove some of the original muggle
secret passage entrances. Shrugging to one another, the group-- minus
Katar and Sirius, who had promised a group of second years to train,
and were already ten minutes late-- entered the darkness, wondering
what they'd find. Ron decided to be helpful, withdrawing his wand and
muttering "Lumos".
The magical light flickered oddly off the inner workings of the
passage, jutting corners casting dark shadows, and generally being
creepy. Ron very, very, very carefully steered his mind away form the
thought that spiders could be living in the dark. The rest of the
group, Weapons and Enchantress, felt no reason to be disturbed by the
darkness, and used Ron's wand much like a flashlight as they dived
deeper, and deeper into the pits of Hogwarts.
Harry made a note to himself to remember to change the name to
something more... befitting of the Balance. The Center couldn't have a
name that didn't fit with his plans. It had to be something...
impressive. And even though Hogwarts was known wizarding-world wide, it
just... didn't sound right, for a place that would house the soon to be
ruler of both muggle and wizarding worlds, Gunn.
He briefly wondered if he should gather up the rest of the Living
Weapons world wide, before setting himself back on task. Finding a way
to eliminate Tom Marvolo Riddle for good.
---
Dean Thomas blinked several times as a rather... colorful... rabbit
made it's way past him as he stretched out his back from a rather
painful work out at the hands of Sirius Black. He was just glad that he
only had to stick around for fifteen minutes before claiming he'd been
training for a couple hours, just so he could escape. The convict was
very, very, very scary when he got it into his head that everyone
needed training. He wished Professor Lupin was at the school.
Ron had said that Lupin had managed to keep Black's more...
psychotic... ideas checked. Most of the time. He _really_ wanted Lupin
here, just so he wouldn't have to go through that exercise again.
Which is what he blamed the colorful rabbit on. There was no way a
snowy white rabbit could have blue, purple and red markings. Just no
way.
However, the non-existent rabbit was getting very annoyed. He'd been
running around trying to find someone to change him back-- after
apparating near schools grounds; hey he was seventeen, he had a
license!-- and not being all that successful of it. Finally, he decided
that he would track down Hermione or Virginia and get one of them to
change him back.
Preferably Ginny, since he had been told about the Weapons' lack of
sexual urges. She might tease him, but he wouldn't have to worry about
her jumping him.
Yes, Nathaniel Calaveras was deathly afraid of girls hitting on him. He
was perfectly fine with friendships with girls, and he could flirt like
a pro-- but he would always start freaking out if one flirted back. And
not a normal, quiet type of freaking out, where they end up stuttering
and blushing. This was serious freaking out.
The kind that generally had the person who was freaking out running
away at top speed, and eventually slamming headlong into a wall, or a
door, or a desk or something that stopped momentum. Nate had once run
headlong into the forbidden forest while freaking out. It was not
exactly something he liked to broadcast; his ability to go stark raving
bonkers when confronted with a girl hitting on him.
Girls were scary.
Which made his punishment all that more effective, considering he'd
never willingly go to a girl to get hugged and changed back to normal.
This also explained why he never let girls touch him; well, he never
let them touch him _before_ Schlatter's family had cursed him, but it
was even a better excuse now. Anything more than a handshake with
someone of the female side of the species had him turning into a cute
widdle bunny rabbit.
Now, if he could only _find_ Miss Weasley, everything would be A-okay.
Too bad for him, that she was skulking around in the bowels of
Hogwarts, looking for the missing pages of a oversized, ancient
textbook, ripped up by one Lily Evans. Poor Nate.
Looks like he's going to be stuck as a rabbit for a little bit longer.
Heh.
---
End Chapter
I had a bit of writer's block about what I was going to do with the
Weapons, so I decided we were going to follow Nate around for a little
bit, so that I can figure out what I want them to do.
Black Rose; I figure I should write a couple characters out so that
they can go play with Rosanna. I just don't know when I should do that.
Or how, for that matter... ^.^;; Hmm, maybe we should talk about this
over email, so that we can figure it out...?