Naraku's Phoenix: At last, it is time to endure another chapter! Muwahahahaha! cough Um, yeah, anyway…In this chapter I made up the entire Quidditch team. That's not to say that I didn't include any real HP characters, only that I was too lazy to look up any actual team members when I began writing. So, heads up on that. This is the longest chapter I've written so far, and I'm quite proud of it. So enjoy, my minions, enjoy…
I've also found a new comic book that I like – straying from the current subject here – ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY VASQUEZ CREATIONS! That being notified, I'd like to announce that I want to do a JtHM/HP crossover. I don't know why, but I feel a strange force that is coaxing me to do it! Maybe Voldemort could be Squee's real father and Pepito has to train him in the dark arts to learn to take over the family business when its time, and-and Johnny gets curious and follows his little neighbor to the magick realm where he finds out that wizard blood stays wet on the wall longer! Hey, I'm just tossing ideas around. If you know what I'm talking about, here, tell me what you think. If I start writing now, there's a good chance it'll be up by next season or so, hence the vow in my bio. But, then again, chances are that by now, you've already skipped down to the story. And if you're still reading…I appreciate it and hope that you really enjoy this chapter.
Thanks again to my only reviewer annapooh…somehow, this story isn't as much of a hit as I pictured it. Ah, well, time goes on I suppose.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. How many times must we go through with this?
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Chapter 3: Wander onto the Quidditch Pitch
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Marvin surveyed the inside of Hagrid's hut as he finished drying himself off – since no one else was going to do it for him – and politely emptied the soapy water pail down the drain in the kitchen's sink. Standing next to the open front door, the android stalled as he gave the cabin a final once over using his electromagnetic spectrum ray.
"…Yeah, I'm definitely not going to stay here." And with that, Marvin departed out into the healthy green grass and foliage of Hogwarts lawn.
It was empty. Unknown to Marvin, though, it was because since no one had confessed to or ratted out whomever took the time setting up small animal traps all about the school – much to the house elves distress – Headmistress McGonagall had issued a school-wide lock in. This concluded that no student leisure time would be spent outside as well as any Hogsmeade trips until the culprit was caught. Quidditch was still on as a privilege, and the House teams were just simply delighted to find this little loophole in McGonagall's clause. Marvin continued his journey without thinking that this empty lawn was rather unusual for noontime Hogwarts.
While He was walking, Marvin had decided to document his recent happenings into his hard-drive. For future reference, you know.
ACCESSING HARD-DRIVE
ACCESSING LINK TO DOCUMENT DATABASE
OPENING FOLDER: Things that I absolutely refuse to re-live ever again but chances are I will anyway, so I have these documents to refer to:
SELECTING NEW DOCUMENT TITLED: pause Teleportation screw-up Q-27
Notes:
When coming upon creatures that are half human-half horse (a.k.a. centaurs),
Tell them you're from outer space and they worship you;
Tell them The Answer and they will comply with your every whim to bend at your will. Chances are very probable you will also be granted a noble title.
Apparently telling the Centaurs The Answer is not a good thing. If anyone else finds out you've told them, they go into a mental break-down and forget your existence entirely…Not that that doesn't already happen, but…you catch my drift.
While giants do differ among different galaxies, through this third up-close observation I can clearly see that all giants are finally beginning to take an interest in full personal hygiene…others' personal Hygiene, anyway. I now have a theory that cleaning other life-forms/artificial life-forms might be giants' way of coping with their own fear of self-grooming. I believe now that most intergalactic beauty parlors will be giant-run as future events progress.
I have also detected some irritable foreign vibes emitting from this world where I've landed, but eventually, I will confirm something later on if I'm still stuck here…And I will be.
SAVE DOCUMENT
CLOSE
Marvin finished recording these notes and began to observe his new surroundings. He'd been walking the whole time he was documenting and hadn't been keeping track of his path let alone looking ahead of himself to evade any potential doom he might've crossed, but that aside…
A little ways down, the brim of a large, glossy lake could be spotted that was just teeming with wildlife. Not only swimming across the surface or running around its edges, but underneath the water as well. Marvin discovered some rather peculiar-looking marine life using his infrared. One animal, He noticed, looked abnormally large in size, while another seemed to be a strange fish-type creature swimming around with half a human still hanging from its mouth. Discontinuing this sequence, Marvin decided to take note of a closer landmark standing right next to his being.
It was a stadium for something, alright – you could tell from mere sight – and while Marvin still wanted to gather more information for his Teleportation Screw-up Q-27 file, He decided to investigate.
The stadium, He saw, was very tall with high seats that looked like they were painted four different teams' colors and creating the field's oval-shaped outline. The field itself looked very healthy and well kept for as portrayed by the lively green grass and the painted white boundary lines were fresh, neat, smooth, and evenly spaced out; near perfection…for whatever sport or game it was meant for. At the moment, though, Marvin was at a loss, and if he thought he was confused now…
"How many times do I need to go over this?" A random voice suddenly spoke.
"How ever many times it takes for you to put it in words that even the human brain can understand, MacMillan. Look, you're a great captain and everything, but unless you try dumbing it down a bit more for your team, I'm afraid that Hannah's going to gouge your eyes out and rip out your tongue and use it as a cat toy," Another voice explained out of nowhere.
"And don't you dare think I won't!" shouted another bodiless voice. This one, however, was of a higher pitch than the previous two.
"Look, it's very simple," the first voice began again, "To execute formation sequence/game play 'Vector 4,' We need one chaser and one beater to simultaneously be next to each other, no matter how great the distance may be. Then we need the opponent's seeker to be exactly in the middle of that invisible line connecting our said chaser and beater while still staying in play with the game and everyone else. Our chaser and beater will then make the opponent's seeker's job more difficult, such as throwing him of track and what-not. Now do you get it?"
"Finally," replied the voice called 'Hannah.' Then she muttered, "On some level."
"I don't know, Ernie, do you really think that'll work? I mean, it sounds like we're only going to make our jobs more difficult," A fourth random voice piped up. The first voice replied to this remark and Marvin noted him as this 'Ernie' person.
"Of course it will! We're playing Gryffindor this Saturday and BE DAMNED if we don't give Potter a run for his glory! I've run the schematics and all abnormal possibilities through my friend in Ravenclaw, and He cleared them. We've got a solid 80 chance of kicking arse this weekend!
"What happened to the other 20?" asked the second voice.
"That, my friend, went toward the Gryffindors figuring out our plan and finding a way to interfere with it. That being the case we should probably rotate chasers and beaters every five to ten minutes or so," said Ernie.
Marvin was getting annoyed. Where were these voices coming from! The field was smooth and flat, not a life-form in sight to accompany these disembodied voices. He ran a scan on the field; other than the normal bouts of insects…nothing. Were these beings invisible? No, no; even so, his scan would have picked up traces of their existence. Perhaps they were the minds and souls who've been separated from their physical forms, like that one he'd met with Zaphod when they were deployed on Frogstar World B.
"Hey," called a new voice, "What's that down on the field?"
'So they finally notice me; go figure,' thought Marvin, 'but wait…that new voice said "down"…of course.' Marvin lazily shifted his gaze upward: Coming down toward Him were seven yellow-clad figures on broomsticks.
RE-OPENING DOCUMENT: Teleportation Screw-Up Q-27
Interestingly enough, the species of this world have somehow managed to break the fierce and rabid Broomstick Race unto their complete control. The Fierce and Rabid Broomstick race is of course most know for its role in "The Fabric Softener Massacre." -- The bloody battle, of course, had started when the Broomsticks had talked the hotel maids of Nny Sector J into complaining about their minimum-wage checks.
SAVE DOCUMENT
CLOSE
Brought back to reality, or whatever considering He still didn't know where or what the heck he was in, Marvin took note that the yellow-clad figures and their obedient broomstick slaves were surrounding him in a scattered-looking semi-circle and observing his being with a strange and peculiar distance.
"Does anybody else see what I see?" asked Hannah.
"That robot?" asked Justin, "you betchya." Marvin I.D.'d him as the second voice from before.
"Robot?" asked one of the chasers.
"It's sort of a mechanical human being-like computer made by muggles," replied Justin.
"Oh…What's a computer?"
"See Ernie! All of your confusing Quidditch tactics are giving the whole team coinciding hallucinations! The madness, THE MADNESS!" shouted Hannah with both her hands on either side of her head; she was twitching a bit. Marvin interrupted.
"If you don't mind me asking," Marvin butt in, "how in the Universe did you life-forms conquer the Fierce and Rabid Broomstick Race? I ask merely for information." Ernie jumped back and pointed.
"It said something!"
'Oh, will it never end?' thought Marvin.
"Hey, what do you mean by 'conquered the broomstick race?" asked Justin; He held up his broom out front in a horizontal fashion, "Brooms are inanimate objects…not living, breathing souls."
RE-ACCESSING CURRENT DOCUMENT DATABASE
OPENING DOCUMENT: Teleportation Screw-Up Q-27
Interestingly enough, the species of this world have somehow managed to break the fierce and rabid Broomstick Race unto their complete control. The Fierce and Rabid Broomstick race is of course most know for its role in "The Fabric Softener Massacre." -- The bloody battle, of course, had started when the Broomsticks had talked the hotel maids of Nny Sector J, into complaining about their minimum-wage checks.
DELETE
Apparently not all broomsticks are considered as life-forms; as proof is provided by this new world.
SAVE
CLOSE
Turning his attention to Justin, Marvin simply said, "Thank you, your information was most helpful." Meanwhile, Justin was trying to contemplate with his distorted thoughts and features in search for the right words that he wanted to ask Marvin.
"Wait," He finally managed to piece together, "Robots aren't exactly derived from any magical creation…so…what are you doing here at Hogwarts?"
REACCESSING DOCUMENT DATABASE
OPENING DOCUMENT: Teleportation Screw-up Q-27
I have also detected some irritable foreign vibes emitting from this world where I've landed, but eventually, I will confirm something later on if I'm still stuck here…And I will be.
Alas…I am at Hogwarts.
ACCESSING DOCUMENT: Teleportation Screw-Up Q-27
RENAMING TITLE: Teleportation Screw-Up Q-27 (HOGWARTS)
SAVE
CLOSE
"It's all in the Improbability Factor, life-form, all in the Improbability Factor," replied Marvin as he finished documenting this new information. The Hufflepuff Team stared in puzzlement. "So," continued Marvin, "You say this world is called 'Hogwarts?' Exactly, what is 'Hogwarts?' Once again, I ask merely for information." The Hufflepuff Team continued its staring silently, a little less puzzlement here and there. "And no, I'm not some sort of spy sent by a socially accepted, clinically insane – but not really – 'muggle.' I have already explained this nonsense to the hairy giant," said Marvin, sighing. He was beginning to determine just how inferior of a species he was dealing with, here.
"Sure, why not?" said Justin who, out of respect, seemed to be the only one willing to talk to Marvin, "Well, first off, Hagrid's not really a giant, not a whole one anyway, he's only half. Next, Hogwarts is a place where young witches and wizards come to learn their magicks. Parents/Guardians/family members of the muggle-born students all know about Hogwarts School – and they're probably the only ones outside the magickal realm who do know – but they've never actually seen it. No non-magick folk ever have…aside from you, now, that is…I suppose," there was a pause, "Now, the question that presents itself to us at the moment is this: 'Are we going to have to kill you, now?' or – perhaps in your case – 'Disassemble you?'" Justin finished his little speech with a tiny chuckle; clearly satisfied with his little spit of plagiarized comedy.
"Death is a very grim and solemn event…it depresses me that life-forms such as you like to joke about it," said Marvin calmly. Justin snapped himself into a guilty state.
"Oh…erm, sorry," Justin apologized with embarrassment, "I didn't know that robots even had emotions."
"Well, they sure don't have a sense of humor," muttered Hannah to Ernie. Ernie snickered inaudibly to himself in response. Marvin kept his head tilted toward Justin as he shot back a reply.
"Then perhaps this little mishap should encourage you to think twice next time," said the android. (A/N: I've always liked referring to Marvin as an android instead of a robot.)
"Alright, Finch-Fletchly, you've had your fun. Let's all just leave the talking mirage alone for now and get back to practice; we're burning McGonagall's signed hours, and if we're going to beat Gryffindor at the match this weekend, we're going to need all the practice we can get," said Ernie after he calmed himself down from earlier, "Hufflepuff is going to be the BEST, and only that! That Quidditch Cup will be ours in no time." The rest of the Hufflepuffs seemed to be cheered up by their captain's little pep talk, and encouraged each other on by claiming that Gryffindor would soon face their downfall and utter defeat. Mind you, it was nice when they broke Slytherin's winning streak, but it's high time that Gryffindor had to fall and scrape its knee. The Hufflepuff team was about to take off up into the air again when Marvin decided to re-announce his presence to the world by calling after Ernie.
"That was quite foolish getting their hopes up, you know?" He said. The Hufflepuff team turned their attention back on Marvin as Ernie replied.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," began Marvin, "You promised your teammates that you'd be the best of the greatest, the mere essence of this 'Gryffindor' downfall…can you really keep all of those promises? Can you ensure your victory or are you just a prophet preaching lies?"
"Look, dude, we've practice our hardest and we'll play our best," Ernie was then cut off.
"But what if Gryffindor's best is better than yours; what if your team is just destined to be the doomed losers of a forgotten realm; do you really think you team has a chance?" said Marvin.
"Well, when Cedric Diggory was here," Ernie was interrupted by Marvin, yet again.
"Ah, but Cedric's not here anymore, is he? It's all you now. You know it, and your team knows it. Know that your screw-ups affect everyone more so than yourself, and that makes you vulnerable; that's your impending weakness.
"No, no it's not! Stop it!" Ernie shouted at Marvin. The young Hufflepuff captain was starting to sweat and getting a bit twitchy. He was nervously looking from side to side, but the android continued on.
"And it will remain as your weakness forever more. Your enemies will soon take note of this fact and use it against you in the worst possible way. You are no leader, life-form, but a coward; a coward who prefers to stand behind someone else with honor and dignity even if that means you have to lose you glory in the process. You are a failure "
"No, you're lying! I'm not a coward; YOU'RE LYING!" Ernie was on the verge of some major tears right about now. However, Marvin continued uninterrupted.
"and you will always be a failure and you know it. You watch from the sidelines as all of your peers – even the ones you once thought yourself to be superior to – move on and accomplish all of their dreams. Sure, you have a wife and child yourself, but they leave you just as soon as the cowardice in you presented itself and you ran from the fight leaving behind all your loved ones to endure the task sufferably"
"SHUT UP! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" shouted Ernie at the top of his lungs. Panicked, he threw his broom aside and ran off of the Quidditch field – stumbling over himself as he turned around to take one last look at Marvin, pointing and shouting, "I'm not like that! Damn you; damn all your lies! I'll never run away! I'm going to be something great, you'll see! YOU'LL ALL SEE!" And at last Ernie was out of sight. Shocked, Hannah turned to Marvin and yelled at him.
"What the hell did you do to him! Ernie's a great captain!"
'How come no one wants to say "What the heaven?" or "By heaven I'll" It's unusual in some manner, I suppose,' thought Marvin. But then he remembered that Hannah had yelled at him and decided to respond. "If what you said is true, dearie, then why did he just abandon his teammates and run away instead of staying to confront me through the end?" Hannah stuttered.
"Well, er, d-ah, see"
"And aren't you a little too old to be wearing your hair like that?" said Marvin gesturing to Hannah's pigtails as the girl had failed to give a good, let alone sensible, response, "Or perhaps your father is mentally ailed and all you can do to preserve his stability is to keep him in a mind lock by convincing him that you are still a small child. But no, that's not it; you are just one of those beings who embarrass themselves by never acting your age. People talk about you behind your back and only pretend to be your friends. They say "Be yourself" but they never really mean it; never" By now, Hannah had burst into tears and followed Ernie's suit: she threw her broom down on the ground and ran off the field.
"Wait, Hannah!" one of the other teammates shouted, and she followed her blonde friend out, broomstick in hand.
"You," Marvin directed at a rather stocky-looking third-year, "What's your name?"
"Er, Calvin," the boy replied almost dumbfounded. He soon regretted this notion, though, as he began to wonder what exactly the metal man would have in store for him.
"So, Calvin, who do you live with?" questioned Marvin. And Calvin felt strangely obliged to answer him after quickly remembering Ernie being called a coward. (A/N: Heads up, readers, this thought occurred to me while watching a frootloop commercial.)
"My-my two brothers and I live with our Uncle Gene over in Leeds during the summer a-and such."
"Why do you live with your uncle?" asked Marvin. His tone was plain but his words were sharp, "Was it because your parents didn't love you? Is 'Uncle Gene' really even your uncle? Were you and your siblings shameful burdens put unto his care so long as your street performances kept paying well enough to keep your uncle in his daily supply of alcohol and skirt?"
For no reason at all Calvin suddenly seemed to have developed a sharp case of the hiccups. You know the ones. The ones that pierce your chest with so much pain that you're completely immobile; trying to remember how to breathe until those agonizing split seconds end up passing on their own and you end up feeling the healthiest you've ever been until another one arises itself and sends you straight back to the ground. Calvin's legs also seemed to have morphed into a gelatin-like state, rendering him to use his Cleansweep as his only support which kept him hovered about four feet from the ground, and he leaned forward on the handle to settle his stomach on the slim piece of wood. Bobbing through the air at a relatively slow pace; having only one destination. Marvin remained silent along with what was left of the Hufflepuff team as if patiently waiting for the boy's arrival. Calvin raised his head to look at Marvin or, in fact, nothing at all as his eyes were void of all but blankness, only adding a nauseous look to his current sickly features.
"My-my hic parents do love us…they hic just wanted us to have better…"
"Is that why they let you live with an alcoholic, so you can have better?" asked Marvin, "And don't try to pull that "he-was-your-last-living-relative" bit. You have already referred to your parents in the present tense." Calvin began to leak a few tears. Marvin wasn't trying to be mean. He only wanted to state what he thought was the obvious.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?" screamed Calvin as loud as he could in Marvin's face. And just like that snap, He jerked his broom upward and shot himself like a bullet up and over the stands, laughing like a maniac with teary eyes and no real smile on his face.
"A waste of space, according to most," replied Marvin even though Calvin was long gone, 'There they go using 'hell' again.'
Thus, only three Hufflepuffs remained. The remaining girl pulled her Nimbus 2000 tight into her chest hunching her shoulders and lowering her head; choking back tears and mucus as her knees began to buckle. Justin and the other teammate, David, quickly rushed to her side in hopes of at least some form of comfort before she broke down entirely and ran off like the others.
"LIFE SUCKS!" She screamed to the world.
"Life, don't talk to me about life," said Marvin. And off the field He went, dragging his feet. The remnants of the Hufflepuff team left in distress.
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Naraku's Phoenix: Ah…yes, quite a lot of work was put into this chapter. Let's see, what can I reveal about next time? Oh, yeah! Just how bad a shape did Marvin really put the Hufflepuffs in? Join me next time to find out!