(Chapter 3.)
Harry Potter stared across the table at the pale figure of Remus Lupin, who was explaining what had happened that horrible day at the Ministry.
"Sirius figured out the trick before anyone," said Remus, his eyes focused on Harry. "Professor Snape showed up, mocking Sirius as usual, and nonchalantly explained that you'd had a vision," he continued with noticeable bite in his voice.
"Git," Harry grumbled.
Remus wasn't prepared to argue, nor did he want to so he continued the story and his eyes misted over and drifted to the past as he spoke. "Sirius jumped up and said you'd try to help him. Severus said that Umbridge had you and your lot well captured. Sirius said that it didn't matter. Somehow you'd escape and go to the ministry," he paused and looked proudly at Harry. "When Snape asked how he knew that, Sirius told him that James would have done the same thing if he thought a friend's life depended on it.
Then Snape said something about a hero complex, and Sirius replied that it was better to have a hero complex than a coward complex and began sending word for everyone to meet at the Ministry."
"But why did he go?" Harry asked, suddenly very interested and caught-up in the story. "Why didn't anyone stop him?"
"You, Harry," said Remus. "He came for you, as you thought you'd come for him. There wasn't any stopping him. Severus tried and got a nasty hex for his trouble; though saying 'Don't worry, Black. I'll go rescue what's left of your Godson, you go hide,' was asking for it. That's why he didn't come with us by the way."
'No wonder he feels guilty, he taunted him into going,' thought Harry, reminded of Snape's lecture.
"Sirius went that night to protect you," said Remus. "Though, I admit a part of him wanted to be there personally because he felt guilty for handling the Peter ordeal wrong. Said it was his fault that Voldemort was back because if he'd have just found some different way to handle Peter then things would have been different."
"But, but he had to go after Peter the night my parent's died!" exclaimed Harry. "Peter brought Voldemort back. If Sirius hadn't forced him into hiding then he'd have brought Voldemort back sooner."
"Yes, well," sighed Remus, looking very tired. "Sirius often daydreamed about what things would be like if he'd never trusted that damned rat."
Harry was quiet and so was Remus, the mood became graver by the ticks of the clock and every time they tried to say something their words suddenly seemed stupid and they lost interest. Harry mumbled something about wondering where Krecher was and Remus shrugged.
"Off with Bellatrix I suppose," he said. "But Krecher broke the biggest House Elf rule. He helped bring his master's death. For all I know he's hanged himself somewhere with a note pinned to him that he'd like his head mounted on the wall."
"Don't get your hopes up," said Harry scornfully. "He may be alive… though it's nice to think he's suffering, isn't it."
Remus did not answer. Dumbledore told them not to be mad at Krecher, but Remus remembered that night all too well.
"Did…" Harry stopped, not sure if he should ask the question that had tormented him all summer.
"Go one," encouraged Remus. "We're here to talk about this."
Harry avoided his eye and addressed the table instead. "…Did he… I mean, did it seem like, or did he say anything about how I could have used the marauder mirror to contact him instead of trying the fireplace?"
Remus froze. He did not move or blink because his unconscious quest to blame someone for that night other than Bellatrix and Krecher had gotten a hit. If Harry had the mirror then why didn't he use it! If he had used it then this entire thing could have been avoided! Sirius would still have been alive and they would have known Krecher was a spy and been able to stop him! Ever since that night he'd convinced himself that it had been an unavoidable tragedy, yet now he knew of the simple precaution that would have prevented it! He'd wondered why Sirius always kept that mirror at hand, and when it would have helped the most Harry hadn't used his!
Harry felt the silence was over him and sighed. In the end it was his fault and no one could argue that. He thought about telling Remus that himself, Ron, Hermione, and even Neville had suspicions as to what was making the professors sick. He thought about fessing up to everything he'd heard and even swearing to butt-out.
"You should be getting back to school," said Remus, standing up and forcing his chair to slide backwards and topple over. "I'll go call the Knightbus for you."
Harry was quieted as Remus left the room. He snatched the plant out of his bag with new determination, yanked open the cupboard, grabbed a silver goblet and watched it become smaller and smaller. He stowed the plant back in his bag and rushed out the door. Remus didn't seem to notice or care that it had taken a while and said a quick goodbye as Harry boarded the knightbus.
"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked at breakfast, noticing that Harry was glummer that he'd seen him in a while.
"Nothing," lied Harry. "Where's Neville?"
"He said something about the plant and then disappeared," said Ron, looking nervously around.
"Let's go find him," shrugged Harry, getting up from his seat at the table and heading for the door in time to see Desdemona run by in a hurry. They entered the Gryffindor common room and saw Hermione and Neville gathered around a large pot.
"Oh!" gasped Hermione, realizing they'd entered. "We've got a problem?
"So what else is new?" Harry mumbled as Hermione rushed him forward.
"What problem? haven't we reached our problem limit yet?" Ron asked.
"…Well, the plant had seedlings," began Neville, pointing towards four new plants. "It teaches its seedlings how to shrink things by having them shrink something it already has. Two papers plus the silver and the cauldron mean four seedlings in this case."
"So what? The other one just spit them out for us," shrugged Ron, looking to Harry for an agreement.
"Well that one was trained," said Neville tensely, looking nervous. "I haven't had time to train these yet."
"This is stupid, let's just cut them open and get the papers," said Ron, striding towards the plants.
"Sure, if you're not attached to your hands," spoke Neville. "The mamma is quite protective."
"Neville was just telling me that he thinks he can train them in a matter of weeks," Hermione explained.
And so their plans were delayed as Neville trained the four seedlings. In a week he had them trained to pay attention to him, but they were still biting anyone who came near. The older plant tried repeatedly to show the seedlings how to unshrink something by eating a rock and spitting it out again repeatedly. Neville made many comments on how good a parent it was being, but he also admitted that the sprouts were feisty. The older plant shielded them with its petals and made sure they ate, but looked very ready for them to be moved into their own pots.
"First time parenting is tough," said Neville one morning at breakfast. "If it has more it'll be easier."
"Don't count on it," muttered Ron, staring over at the Slytherin table. "Then they'll get jokes about what number in the litter they were."
The only thing going according to schedule was Quidditch practice. The American's were trying to arrange a sleeping schedule, but practices interfered with that and their nights were spent doing things they refused to discuss. However, with a match quickly approaching Katie was pushing the team hard, having been threatened by Oliver that she'd better get the cup this year and make a 'damn good run of it,' too. Chase was a magnificent sight on his broom and pulled very acrobatic stunts as he caught the Quaffle and it was amazing to see that his broom hypnotized anyone who watched it too closely as he seemed to dance in the air.
Mike and Sara were a demolition crew and raced across the room slamming their clubs against the Bludgers. They had a tennis match going for a little while and spoke of getting both bludgers under their control during the game. Harry hadn't been so excited about a Quidditch match since his third year. The team was in prime condition and Katie announced that Dumbledore was going to watch as she'd refused to tell him who was on the team. Harry didn't feel the same excitement that phrase would have usually brought him, in fact he almost felt that Dumbledore was butting-in on the one good thing Harry had left to enjoy.
Neville had taught the plants to unshrink things on command and Ron and him had started a business selling the plants. By the end of the month Gryffindor students were walking the halls with grandly lighter bags, and Ron was walking around with grandly heavier pockets. He sent the first wave of profits to his parents with a letter that he'd earned money, legally of course, and was sending them some to prove how good the idea was. He included that it wasn't interfering with school work either and told that it would make him immensely happy if they got new robes.
Ron had never walked the halls prouder than he had that day. He was proud of his parents for sacrificing so much in order to raise their children. He loved having a big family and wanted nothing more than to express his gratitude, without actual words. They got the message and sent Ron a picture of themselves in brand new robes which looked amazingly good on them. Ron and Neville were soon selling to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students, and Ron had even sold one to Professor Dumbledore. Hermione, however, was spending her time working on the potion with Harry. They were forced to use the girl's lavatory again and Moaning Murtle was a constant annoyance, as usual.
"Powdered salt from an Angel's tears, scale of dragon, tongue of frog, leaf of wild rose, root of Cannabis, three inches of 18 gauge silver, and a skin shedding from a Chimera," Hermione said, adding the carefully measured ingredients into their cauldron.
The liquid sparked and sizzled eerily before it let out an enormous flash and purple smoke engulfed them. Coughing, Harry fanned the smoke away with a piece of parchment and stared into the cauldron where the liquid had gone perfectly clear. Hermione stared at it in grand pleasure and seemed quite content with herself.
"Well, it took us a while, but it's done," she smiled.
"Grand," said Harry, ladling some into a vial. Hermione sighed and followed his lead until they had all the potion stored in fourteen vials, one of which Harry planned to slip into Malfoy's breakfast right before asking him if he picked his nose when nobody was watching.
Hermione wanted to use one on Desdemona and get her to tell who had given her the answers to the Arithmancy test. Ron wanted to give his to Percy and ask him why he was such a major git and if it was because he had the hots for Fudge or something. Neville planned to use his on Snape and get him to tell the class why he hated Harry and then Neville planned to ask if there was any chance that Draco was really his son. Ginny, who'd already heard about the potion, planned to give hers to a boy she liked and ask if he liked her back. However, Luna wanted to give hers to Fudge the next time she saw him and ask about his Goblin stews. Everyone had two vials and Hermione had enchanted the insides of special rings so that the vials could be poured into them and they could be added to a drink discretely.
They had to give a ring to every DA member so that no one would get suspicious if they wore them and Hermione was helping to aid the rumor that the rings would cut off the finger of the first person to either betray the club, or try to remove the ring. Harry observed that she seemed to find it quite funny when she heard the rumor around school.
"And the best part is that if a teacher calls me on it I can just laugh and say it's a silly rumor," she giggled.
"You're getting scary," said Ron, his ears pink and a goofy grin creeping across his face.
Harry knew this would be another increasingly less rare moment where his two friends forgot he was there and began flirting with each other. He sat back to watch the show, and waved Seamus over as he entered.
"Scary?" Hermione asked. "You're judging too quickly again. All I'm saying is that-"
"No, no, I mean," Ron held out his hands as he spoke as if warding off an attack. "I like it," he admitted.
"Oh," giggled Hermione as her face turned red.
"You're amazing cute when you're being evil," said Ron, his foot circling in front of him nervously.
"You're terrible," smiled Hermione, batting her eyes and turning her head away from him in something like embarrassment.
Ron moved boldly closer and Hermione began swaying her shoulders back and fourth seductively. Ron reached out and brushed a clump of frizzy hair out of her face and spoke in a charming whisper.
"One might even say you're beautiful."
Hermione giggled appreciatively stared into his eyes lovingly. He met her gaze and felt like millions of thin worms were wriggling around inside him and suddenly he was hot.
'Okay,' Hermione told herself. 'Don't smile, don't, don't, don't!'
She began feeling warm and her lips sprung into an alarming smile that looked like she was drunk and about to laugh.
'No!' she lectured herself. 'Oh this is awful!'
Ron, however, was too busy with the sudden slobbering sensation in his own mouth to notice and rocked closer to her.
'Oh my God,' Hermione thought, her breath catching in her chest. 'He's going to kiss me! Oh I wonder what it'll be like? Is he rough or gentle? I wonder if he loves me? I hope he's not expecting tongue on the first kiss. I wish there was some music playing, or a fire. Oh, this is going to be magical!'
Ron eased closer still, he was muttering about her degrees of cuteness per mood but wasn't paying attention to his words. His pals were sweating and suddenly he became aware that his arms were stiff and numb at his sides.
'Kiss her you fool!' he ordered himself. 'Do it! Oh, God! I can see myself in her eyes! Crap, I look stupid. Errr. Do something, kiss her before she notices the spot on your nose!' he moved in closer, tilting his head and leaning in. 'Put your hands SOMEWHERE!' he demanded. 'Not on her butt, on her back, on her back!'
Hermione leaned in and their noses touched, both of them let out a nervous, soundless laugh. Slowly she closed her eyes and felt her lips tremble with anticipation.
"Ya think they gonna kiss?" Seamus asked Harry. "Do it!" he encouraged Ron.
With a sound like a record being pulled back, Hermione and Ron froze and slowly their gaze drifted to two chairs where Seamus and Harry were staring at them while eating a bowl of popcorn. Hermione and Ron jumped away from each other with astounding speed and looked away, yammering devotedly about either feeling tired or thinking of going to the nurse.
"Nurse can't fwix luv," Seamus teased, rising to his feet and grasping Ron's shoulders. "Gib us a kissy."
"Get lost!" Ron ordered, throwing him off with heated embarrassment.
Snickering, Seamus tottered up to the dorm room leaving Harry to stare at his two friends with an amused smirk.
The hours until dinner passed uncomfortably for Ron and Hermione, who avoided eye contact the entire time. They hardly spoke to each other and when they sat next to each other at the Gryffindor table, they leapt apart and sat at opposite ends of the table. Harry sat down next to Neville and grinned at Ron and Hermione whenever they looked at him.
"What do we try now?" Sara whispered to Chase, who was staring doubtingly at the kidney pie in front of him, all the while his stomach groaned and gurgled.
"I'm gonna throw up, you can do what you want," Chase replied through clenched teeth. His face was a slight green color and his lips were pale.
"Oh, now what?" snapped Hermione, staring at them in disgust. "You hate our weather, you hate our food; why don't you just go back to America? Now, I know the food isn't what you're used to but what you said is just rude!"
Sara glowered at her and put her hand gently on Chase's shoulder. "He has some sort of stomach virus," she hissed at Hermione. "Hasn't been able to eat anything for two days and FYI, it's hard to uproot and move to a place that is entirely different. My meals used to consist of at least one deep-fried product, I need oil; it maintains my system!"
"Urk," moaned Chase, slumping sideways onto Mike, who didn't seem to mind as he simply grinned at him in support and continued his conversation with Nearly Headless Nick.
"Well then take him to the nurse, not down here around the food," said Hermione, slightly softer than her last comment.
"Your nurse has a different potion than ours and he's allergic to one of the ingredients," growled Sara. "If we stay in the common room Peeves throws stuff at him and in the hallways some of the Slytherin tried to hex us!"
"Dontcha miss the trashcan hazings?" Mike asked. "Push someone in a trashcan and BAM, you're good, they're initiated, everything's cool."
"You're going to be okay for the match, right?" Katie demanded, leaning so far across the table that her hair was in the fruit salad.
Chase nodded, but both Mike and Sara glanced fretfully at each other.
"I was told to ask," he looked down at a note. 'Professor Snape, for a draught of-" he stopped and his hand shot over his mouth as he turned a sicker shade of green.
Yes, Chase followed the orders and after dinner he traveled down to the dungeons, his skin pale and clammy. When they saw him next it was as he entered the common room and was surrounded by Mike and Sara.
"Said he didn't have time until later this week and by then it'll be two days till potency," he moaned, collapsing onto the floor as all the chairs and poofs were taken.
"That's after the match!" Katie shrieked, running over to Chase. "… Maybe it'll clear up by then…" she added hopelessly.
"It's too late to find a replacement," Ron groaned. "I'll bet that git doesn't know who's on the team so he's not taking any chances."
"I'll be okay," Chase protested.
"You two!" Katie snapped. "Stay away from him, it could be contagious!" She yanked them away and began instructing all the Gryffindor to stay away, less they infect one of the Quidditch players.
Mike and Sara approached Chase in silent protest and pulled him to his feet. Their eyes were set and determined and they marched out of the portrait hole without a word.
"Where are you going!" Katie called after them, wondering what method of murder Oliver would use on her.
However, the Americans marched on without a word and soon disappeared from sight. Katie retreated to her room with a sigh and the rest of the Gryffindor were close behind her. It wasn't long before Neville, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry were all that was left. They discussed the best way to approach the DADA professor and how they would give him the truth potion.
"We could always ask for extra lessons and then bring him some tea as thanks," offered Ginny.
"It'd never work," said Hermione. "Not when it's school-wide knowledge that Harry's teaching us defense."
"Why don't we tell him…" Neville faded off and stared over at his Tokerstashide plants.
"We could try to slip it into his goblet," Ron shrugged as if the idea was pointless.
"Dobby!" cried Harry.
"What?" his companions asked; startled.
"Dobby can do it!" Harry explained.
"…But how do we go and see him?" Hermione asked pointedly.
"Yeah, the house elves hate her," sighed Ron, pointing his pinky at Hermione as the rest of his hand was holding his head up.
"They do not, they just don't understand that-"
"Well we can just wait here as he's been the one cleaning our common room," said Harry, cutting the rant short. "None of the other elves come up here as they're insulted by Hermione's knitting projects."
"But-"
"Well he'll be happy to see you," Ron grinned at Harry.
"Oh go snog Hermione," Harry replied, wiping the smug grin of Ron's face.
Ginny giggled as Ron's ears turned the color of his hair and he proceeded to try and shrink into his clothing.
"What!" Hermione gapped, her eyes staring straight forward as a substitute walked into their Magical Languages classroom and announced that professor Teijina was ill.
Harry jabbed her in the ribs and she quickly collected herself. The three Americans had their heads together and were whispering urgently and all around the class there was murmurs of the creature that was attacking the teachers.
"Nonsense," Hermione huffed. "There is no creature lurking around, it has to be a person!"
After the class they sprinted to the infirmary to see that they weren't alone. Many students were huddled around, listening eagerly and trying to get a peek inside. Lee Jordan was telling anyone who would listen that it was just a very talented prankster and whoever it was could tell him without fear as all he'd do is try to get that person a job working for Fred and George. Hermione let out a low growl and nearly ran into Desdemona, who was looking absolutely mortified and shaking.
"There's no need to be scared," said Hermione, speaking as if addressing a small child. "It… it's probably just a prank and I'm sure they'll catch the one doing it."
Not at all consoled and seeming to be shocked by the little-girl tone Hermione was using, Desdemona backed away and clutched her sketchbook.
Harry and crew shot back down the hallway as Madam Pomfrey opened the door to tell the students to GET A LIFE! Or at least share one! Bolting into the common room, they quickly remembered they had classes and dashed all crazy-like towards said classes. After dinner they gathered in the common room, which was actually redundant as they had all been there to witness the substitute and had no other information. STILL they called an assembly and discussed it.
"So when are we staying up to talk to Dobby?" yawned Ron, thinking of sleep.
"Friday," Hermione replied. "So we won't be tired for classes."
It wasn't long before the common room filled up and they were forked to abandon their oh-so-important meeting and go to sleep.
The morning of the match came and it looked to be rainy, but not all that bad. The Americans dragged themselves to the table and slopped down. Chase had a hood covering his face, but his actions proved he wasn't much better. Katie forced them all to eat breakfast with Ron's help and, as usual, Desdemona fled the hall after the owls arrived. Sara hadn't spoken a word to any of them and was just barely speaking to Ginny, who was her best girlfriend. After a few futile minutes of forcing themselves to eat, the Gryffindor Quidditch team stood up and headed for the changing room.
Sara became chatty soon after entering, though her comments were to Chase, Mike, Ginny, or Katie and she barely even looked at Ron or Harry. When they were changed, Katie gave a short speech about how awesome the match was going to be and that she hoped they all did well. Mike, Sara, and Chase stared out at the rain in gloomy acceptance as Chase swallowed what looked like the cure Fred and George had been using on their puke pills. Ron muttered something about betting all the money he'd made from the plants and that they'd better not loose, and with that they trudged onto the field.
Harry kept his eyes blandly focused on a discolored spot of grass on the field, instead of looking at the crowd. He remembered too many bad things and was desperate not to think until he was in the sky where problems seemed so far away. Katie shook hands with the Slytherin team captain, who tried to crush her hand, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle.
Harry kicked off the ground and into the air without a moments notice. He dreamt of flying into the heavens and staying there, but reality soon took hold of him and he stopped his climb to watch the game. His teammates were tinny magenta dots zipping around and Harry felt reluctant to move closer. A cold wind swept around him and he heard a susurration of "Sirius" as it whipped through his billowing cloak.
He looked down as he drifted over the Ravenclaw stands and saw two eyes staring up at him from the very top of the stands. Desdemona sat looking up with a dark blue umbrella slightly behind her creating a sort of halo around her head. Her sketchbook lay open on her knees and it seemed she'd cast a spell to keep water off of it. Harry couldn't help but smile at her because no matter how bad he felt it always seemed she was much more of a tragic figure, fragile in some way. She shook her head as if to tell him not to lie and then a smile twitched across her face and she pointed at Malfoy and Harry heard an unmistakable shout of,
"Go beat that prick, Potter!"
"Will do Embers!" Harry shouted back, glad to share such a strong hatred towards Malfoy.
Harry pulled back his broom and began circling the field with new intensity. He looked to his teammates and saw a battle was going on. Ron was at the center ring and his eyes were following the Quaffle, which was in Katie's possession, but she had a lot of Slytherins around her.
"It's Katie bell with the Quaffle," said Lee Jordan. "She's been made team captain this year and picked out this year's team after the trouble with that old hag from last year." Everyone took notice that McGonagall did not object.
Harry circled and tried to scan the field, though his mind kept drifting elsewhere and he found that he wasn't enjoying the game very much. The Gryffindor were dressed with magenta and gold striped cloaks and some even had American flags to wave, though as no one had seen the American's fly there had been a lot of booing as they entered the field. It looked like a giant Where's-Waldo game, which Lee soon mentioned as he followed Harry's gaze.
"Now for a little audience participation, who can find Waldo? Where is he? The winner gets a prize-"
"JORDAN, THE GAME!"
"Alright, alright, but I will find him. Katie passes it to Ginny Weasley, another Weasley on our find Quidditch team, where would we be without that magnificent family. Reminds me of the time Fred and I-"
"Jordan!" Minerva snapped.
"Right, Weasley passes it to Bell. Ouch, where'd that Bludger come from? Weasley swoops down and gets the Quaffle. She's heading for the goal post and- OH! That had to hurt!"
Harry looked down to see that Mike and Sara were being blocked by the Crabbe and Goyle and the Bludgers were being hit by the Chasers. He looked to Ginny and saw that she was hanging onto her broom by barely three fingers and screaming in terror. Katie was nearly thrown from her broom by Malfoy and helpless to aid Ginny at one of the Slytherin chasers aimed to ram. Ron rocketed forward to help, but was stopped by a chaser and let out a furious scream. Harry shot forward and Malfoy lunged in front of him. Harry battled to get past Malfoy as Katie pulled herself back onto her broom, but she was too late.
Ginny fell and was barely a foot from the ground when Chase reached her and pulled her onto his broom. He sped around the Slytherin chasers and preformed a grand loop which caused Malfoy and a chaser to crash into each other, all the while keeping one hand around Ginny's waist. He carted her to her broom and when she was on he nodded in a gentlemanly fashion and pulled away.
"Well after a common display of treachery from those immature Slyther-"
"Jordan," Minerva warned in a low hiss.
"Right. That was a nice save by… wow, get this, Chase Ferociter, thanks Ferociter! Ferociter regains the Quaffle. He's going for the-…. What? Weasley with the Quaffle! Don't ask me folks I got no idea how that happened. Weasley throws the Quaffle to Bell, Bell receives, tosses it back to Ferociter- Youch! That's gotta hurt. Another disgusting maneuver by an ape, sorry, by a Slytherin."
"JOR-DAN!"
"Sorry, professor, sorry."
Mike and Sara had had just about enough. Side-glancing each other they launched forward and broke free of the trap, being extra careful the shove the beaters out of the way as hard as possible. Goyle and Crabbe on their tails, they split up and Mike charged towards a bludger. Sara zipped across the field with a Goyle right behind her.
"Get off my ass you hemorrhoid!" she yelled at him, a bit too close to the Gryffindor stands.
Lee Jordan burst into laughter, Minerva gave up for the time being, and the Gryffindor fans began to sing, get off her butt you hemorrhoid. Butt, because there were teachers among them.
Sara proved her vixen standards and moved much like a fox avoiding a hunter as she weaved in and out of players. She circled the bludger so fast and so many times that Goyle got hit with it and sat in dazed confusion.
Mike raised his club like a sword and Sara followed suit. They charged forward and began a violent thrive to gain possession of the bludgers.
"Merry Christmas!" Sara yelled, whacking a bludger into her pursuing beater's gut.
"Aw, he didn't get you anything," snickered Mike. "And after we got him such a lovely GIFT!" he swung his club and nailed the same beater in the face.
Sara cackled as the bludger came in front of her and the Goyle whimpered in fear.
"Sassy," Jordan whistled. "I know, I know! Ferociter in control of the quaffle, passes it to Bell, she loops back and passes it to Weasley, Gryffindor approaching the goal…. It's in! SCORE! Potter, searching for that snitch. He's on his broom, Harry!" He added, pointing at Malfoy.
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry professor; couldn't help it," Lee grinned, moving away from Minerva as she dove towards him.
"Slytherin has the quaffle…. They're going for a goal… come on Ron! WOW! A bludger is hit through the hole and nails the chaser in the face, good one Widowstep! God, this chick is feisty- sorry professor! Ferociter with the Quaffle, passes it to Bell, to Weasley, they're forming a V. Bell, Weasley, Bell, Ferociter, Weasley, Bell, Ferociter, Bell, Weasley, Ferociter, Bell, Weasley, now it's anyone's guess! Potter! Whoah, who say that coming! Potter, from behind, hits the quaffle into the left ring."
"Potter, doing a victory dance over the head of Malfoy, Ferociter… is he?... can he?... he is! He's standing on his broom and surfing! Ferociter with the Quaffle, still standing he shoots around a bludger, over Malfoy and Potter, SCORE! Skelington and Widowstep seem to be… they are… they're playing tennis with the bludgers! Yowch, and the beaters! I love these Americans!"
"Jordan!"
"I know I know. Bell with the quaffle, Weasley, Oh, Slytherin in possession, they're going for a goal."
Harry watched his teammates and couldn't help but feel happy. The team looked good and the flying was amazing. The Slytherin chaser scored and Ron lost his edge. It seemed to come back after the third goal whizzed past him and Sara told him she'd be playing hackyspleen if he let the next one go by. He wasn't in the mood to find out what hackyspleen was. Chase surfed across the field and crouched to catch the quaffle at Ginny threw. Slytherin was in the lead as the rain picked up. Harry then saw a huge problem. The American's were already dealing with the change in temperature and the rain was tossing them around. He looked to Chase and saw that he was clinging to his broom and paler than Nick. Mike and Sara were struggling and their feature cracked into concentration and surprise.
Ron missed a goal and a Slytherin beater knocked Sara off her broom and she had to cling to it with her legs like Mike had done. She was trying to pull herself up but the wind and the rain was reeking havoc. She managed it and shot off before the bludger could reach her. The Americans were playing furiously and the Gryffindor team managed to score enough points to prevent Slytherin from whining. Harry saw the snitch and knew he had to go for it before he lost it in the rain. He dove early and Malfoy followed, Harry decided against pulling out of the dive and instead pushed the handle down and swung under. He grabbed the snitch and the match was over. Tie game.
The Gryffindor house partied like they'd won and celebrated with cheeseburgers. The Phantom was ranked just below the Firebold in admiration by the house and praised by all. Chase, however, gave up his broom and stared longingly at the cheeseburgers, having had nothing to eat except the white pills he'd been using to keep from vomiting. Lee, not understanding, offered him a cheeseburger. Chase lost the rest of his color and violently retched onto the floor. The red and white striped vomit of pills and blood splashed across the floor as poor Chase was finally defeated by the virus.
"I see…," said Lee, flicking his wand at the exaggeratingly huge mess. "So there's Waldo." He flicked the wand again and the Technicolor yawn disappeared to the laughter of the Gryffindor. Hermione approached Chase, who looked ready to die, with a kind smile and handed him a draught to help his stomach. Then, they all dined on cheeseburgers and deep-friend french-fries that made Sara start singing.
"I know you're happy, I know I know," said Minerva as she entered the common room around one in the morning. "However some of us are trying to sleep so clear up! Put the food away!"
"I'm sorry professor," Hermione apologized, her HeadGirl badge flashing importantly.
"Are you snarling at me?" Minerva asked Chase, who was guarding the rest of the cheeseburgers with his life and looked a lot like a rabid squirrel.
"Everyone to bed!" Hermione instructed, trying to turn Minerva's attention away from Chase, who was growling and clutching the plate of burgers as if his life depended on them. When Minerva turned around, Chase fled up the stairs holding the burgers over his head in triumph ad Mike and Sara cheered him on with loud woots and hollers! Harry held back as Minerva climbed back out the portrait hole. He set himself in a chair by the fireplace and waited. Hermione and Ron decided to leave him alone as the win hadn't perked him up as much as they'd hoped for.
"I love you," Hermione whispered into Ron's ear.
"I love you too, but I'm still not joining SPEW," said Ron, ducking into the dorm room.
The fire was long out and Harry had drifted to sleep by the time Dobby entered the common room and set about cleaning up. He let out an excited shriek at the sight of Harry, who woke up with a start.
"Harry Potter!" Dobby cried. "Many nights has Dobby dreamt of you! Hoping that he would see you again! Now Dobby's patience has paid of 'cus you are here, Harry Potter, sir, you are here!"
"Yeah… you sound like a gay stalker, anyway," Harry said quickly. "It's good to see you too, Dobby."
"At your service Harry Potter, sir." Dobby bowed so low that his nose tapped the floor and Harry decided to continue.
"That's a little worse. Anyway, I was actually hoping you could do me a favor."
"Anything, sir, anything!" Dobby nodded so hard that he resembled a bobble head.
Harry took the vial out of his cloak and handed it to Dobby. "I need yu to slip this into the DADA professor's drink."
Dobby looked curiously at the vial. "Harry Potter sir wishes to further delay classes?"
"No, I just..." Harry stopped. They hadn't had an actual Defense lesson since school began. There was always just a notice on the board and a TA filling in for the elusive Professor Draven. The TA simply said that Professor Draven was having trouble getting the proper forms to enable him to teach, and was living at the school and spent most of his time in the teacher's lounge making up the next day's lesson. "….Um, I just need you to put this into his drink."
"But Harry Potter sir, Professor Draven does not eat up with the rest of the teachers-"
"I know that but he must get his meals from the kitchen and that's when you can put this in his coffee."
"Harry Potter sir, Professor Draven does not ever eat from the kitchen. He has hired Winky and she tells Dobby that he drinks from a Goblet in his office and nowhere else."
Harry was reminded of Mad-eye and sighed with the new problem. There was no way that Winky would slip something into her master's drink and that was the only solution. He sat back in his chair and furrowed his brow in thought. Dobby spoke about how happy he was and how Dumbledore had given him a raise and all, but Harry barely listened. The next morning he awoke and traveled down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione. They had heard the news and walked into the banquet hall looking defeated. Ron perked up as he collected his winnings.
"You bet that we'd tie!" Harry growled.
"Sorry, mate, but it's a lot of galleons," replied Ron. "And Chase was sick but I didn't want to bet against us."
"Uh hu," yawned Harry. After breakfast they headed up to the Library. However, to their dismay, they met Professor Trelawney. She stopped them and as she looked to Harry her eyes rolled back in her skull and he as faced yet again with all her signs of a real premonition.
"A curse will arise upon the awakening! The first sentence uttered by the awakener will unleash a terrible, amusing, and even wonderful fate upon those in a room where it is uttered and the forth person to enter within ten minutes shall provide the show!" Trelawney hissed.
"Fan-fucking-tastic," said Harry, turning away and continuing his path to the library.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Library to see that the librarian wasn't there, neither was anyone else.
"Studying on a Sunday?" Dumbledore asked upon entering the room and looking at them all.
"Sure," sighed Harry, slumping down in a chair. Ron and Hermione stood uncomfortably, still having a great amount of respect for the Headmaster, and trying to uphold their headboy and girl stature.
"I admire the effort," smiled Albus, eyes sparkling. "I have good news for you, Harry. It seems Professor Draven has heard about your DADA class and has requested that you fill in for him as his TA needs to go home and visit a relative."
"…what does that mean?" Harry asked, completely confused.
Dumbledore smiled his sparkling smile of patience. "It means that instead of taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, you will be teaching it until Professor Draven is allowed."
At first Harry wanted to bring up the point that Dumbledore didn't trust him enough to lay off the guards but did trust him enough to teach a class, that argument, however, caught in his throat and to Ron and Hermione's surprise he simply said,
"…Alright…"
"Wonderful," Dumbledore beamed. "I suspect-"
The three teens began rather jumpy at the word 'I suspect' and immediately looked away from Albus, hiding guilt and holding their breaths.
"- he'll be wanting to meet with you and help make a lesson plan," continued Dumbledore, his words slowing down with growing suspicion. The three teens let out a sigh of relief.
"Okay," said Harry forcibly, his gaze fixed upon a spot behind Albus.
"Hey Ha-" Neville entered the library as if on cue and stopped mid-sentence. He held a just trained Tokerstashide in his left hand and had come to give it to Ron.
"Hello, Neville," Albus greeted with a warm smile.
"H-hello, Professor," Neville replied shakily.
"Is that one of those marvelous plants you two have been selling?" Dumbledore asked politely.
"This?" Neville questioned dimly. "Well, uh, it, it, um,-"
"Yes," Ron filled in, being the better salesman.
Albus smiled proudly at Neville and said, "Perfect. I've been meaning to purchase one, how much are they?"
"Y-you want one?" Neville asked dumbly, his mouth dropping open.
"As Harry can tell you, I've got quite a lot of things in my office that need a safe storage place, and it's such a lovely plant," replied Albus, his eyes sparkling innocently.
Ron filled in for Neville's silence and began haggling the price, no embarrassment what-so-ever in his tone. Neville moved closer to Harry and Hermione. They began an overly stupid conversation staring with,
"So, nice weather."
And even dared the path of,
"How are your classes going?"
Ron finished up negotiations and handed the plant over to Dumbledore in a wave of victory. Albus admired his new plant and Harry began to wonder if all that Cannabis was the reason Albus was the way he was. It would explain a lot. Shaking his head, Harry and crew headed for the exit, leaving the Headmaster to brows the restricted section and get the books he'd come to get.
"So now what?" Neville asked in a low whisper.
"Now I go talk to Professor Vector," Harry grinned, making his comrades understand why he'd agreed to teach the class. Though it was obvious to them that the particularly dangerous professor had been given an excuse to need to get Harry alone and it seemed the Headmaster had just seat up young Harry Potter's murder.
Had they bothered to turn around their eyes would have been violated by the scene of Albus Dumbledore, twirling his cloak over his head and unbuttoning his tunic provocatively, doing a dance to a pulsating beat which no one could explain the source of. Albus shimmied onto a table and proceeded to disrobe, hurling clothing articled about the room. A few minutes later he found himself arguing with the Tokerstashide, who had shrunken his underwear in protest to the scene and was covering what must have been its eyes with its leaves.
