Welcome to chapter thirty-four. Please fasten your seat-belts and remain seated until the reading is done. Once again, we would like to remind you that no flash photography is allowed, and that these are not LICKRISHSTIX's characters or world. Thank you and enjoy the trip.
Chapter 34
A Very Interesting Detention
Harry and Ron were wandering through the corridors of Hogwarts lazily, reminiscing on the days interesting events. As luck would have it, they were both laughing too hard to see Professor Snape, and, as a result, they ran right into him.
"Potter," the potions teacher growled in disgust.
"I'm really sorry I missed class today, Professor, I had to-"
"Shut up, you foolish boy, Miss Granger has kindly informed me of your whereabouts. However, there is still the matter of a certain detention I believe I assigned you at your last Quidditch match."
"Dang it," Harry exclaimed under his breath.
"That will be held tonight at five o'clock sharp. Do not be late."
"But Professor, that's right over dinner…"
"Do you think I care, Weasley? If you do not wish to join him I suggest you close your big mouth." Ron did so, staring at the potions master with a mixture of loathing, surprise, and pity, the latter being for Harry. "Well, Potter?"
"I'll be there, Professor," Harry snarled through gritted teeth.
"Good. Have a pleasant day," the potions master sneered as he stormed off, robes billowing behind him.
"He hates me," Harry deducted.
"Yeah, mate, he does. But, since you're starting early, you should get out earlier."
"Should, Ron. That doesn't mean I will. Actually, that means Snape will keep me there doing some odd and useless task until three in the morning." Ron's eyes lit up and he smiled maniacally; obviously he had just gotten some bright idea.
"I'll be back soon, Harry!" he yelled, sprinting down the corridor.
"What was he screaming about?" Hermione asked. Harry jumped, looking at Hermione in shock. He hadn't even heard her approaching.
"I've got no idea. What time is it?"
"It's about four o'clock. Why?"
"Because, I have to be in Snape's office for detention in an hour."
"Ouch," Hermione cringed. "I'll save you some dinner, Harry."
"No thanks, I'll probably go down to the kitchens. Or just not eat anything and go straight to bed."
"But Harry, what about all the homework you've missed today?"
"Hermione," Harry whined, "you do realize that Snape-"
"Professor Snape."
"You do realize that Snape will keep me until long past midnight, don't you?"
"Well…" Harry looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Okay, okay, fine. But you're coming with me right now. If we hurry, you could probably get that Transfiguration essay done before your detention…"
And so the hour Harry had before heading down to his doom in the potions classroom passed in a rushed flurry of homework. Hermione coached him through changing pigs into piggy banks, and they moved onto potions. To Harry's amusement, Snape had spent the entire class period lecturing about the Polyjuice potion. Pretty confident that he wouldn't have much trouble writing the report, Harry hurried down to the dungeons for what would be a grueling and horrific detention, though hopefully not as bad as Umbridge.
"Potter, you're late," Snape hissed as Harry opened up the door. Glancing at a clock, Harry noticed that it was still ten minutes till five. "Go up to the black board, and write 'I must not fight in Quidditch' until you run out of chalk. Begin."
Harry paced up to the board and let his gaze drop, along with his hopes of getting out early. There were at least 25 pieces of chalk. Groaning softly, he figured he ought to start as soon as possible. He picked up a piece and was on his third line when the door slammed open, causing Harry's hand to jerk; he hastily wiped away the long mark with the sleeve of his robe. Cho stomped into the room, snatching Harry's chalk and going over to the opposite end of the board, quickly scribbling the same thing Harry was.
Three hours passed, and Harry was only on his eighth piece of chalk. Glaring at Cho, he pressed down as hard as he could, hoping to use up more of the white substance. Glancing back at the board, he was horrified to notice that he had not been writing anything about Quidditch for the past thirty lines, and his sentences were made up mostly of killing Cho or Snape. He was about to pick up an eraser when a loud explosion shook the dungeon.
Harry grabbed the wall in shock and looked over to see Cho doing the same thing, a look of loathing on her face as well. Snape strode over to them a short time later, disgust clearly visible on his face.
"What on earth do you think you are doing?"
"That wasn't us, Professor," Harry managed to spit out before the room quaked again, throwing them to the floor. Suddenly, the room was bathed in blinding sparks of light, and a large number of popping noises filled the dungeon. The ceiling groaned as if it was on the verge of collapsing, and Harry heard Snape give a strangled scream.
It was still to bright to see anything, and suddenly to Harry's right Cho was shrieking like mad. He was about to grab his wand and yell some spell at something when strong arms seized him around the waist, dragging him off. Harry was struggling as much as possible, but to no avail. His captor simply stunned him, and he thought he heard someone laughing as darkness consumed him….
He woke to somewhat of the same environment, with the exception of being able to see. Someone still held him around the middle, and was half-carrying him through the halls of Hogwarts. He could vaguely hear a conversation around him, but was too disoriented to tell what it was about. Reflexes abruptly took over, and Harry swung his arm around, successfully elbowing whoever it was in the mouth. He was dropped to the floor almost immediately, and made to run away as fast as possible when a very familiar someone groaned in pain.
Sparing a look over his shoulder, Harry was astonished to find Sirius sprawled out on the floor, clutching his jaw and moaning in agony. Beside him, Bridget was doubled over, overcome by a fit of giggles. When she had regained her composure she muttered a pain-killing spell and helped Sirius to his feet.
"Ow, Harry! I pity the next Death Eater who tries to capture you."
"Sorry," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I thought you were a Death Eater."
"He just wanted to get you out of there before the rest of the plan was put into action," Bridget explained. "Come with us. And try not to smack anyone this time, either."
"Hey, that was self-defense!"
"Yeah, and very good self-defense at that!" Sirius agreed. They led him into what appeared to be a dead end, containing a suit of armor and not much of anything else.
"Uh…" he trailed off in uncertainty.
"Watch." Sirius had a mad glint in his eye, and pointed his wand up at the ceiling, mumbling something. Harry was about to question his actions when the floor suddenly lurched upward and he was thrown into a carpeted room, complete with burning fireplace. It was mostly decorated in red and gold, Gryffindor colors, with a small section that looked somewhat like a library, which was decked out in blue and silver. Anything imaginable needed for pranking, plus what looked like half a Hogwarts' kitchen worth of food was spread around the space.
"Welcome to The Marauders' Chamber, Mr. Potter. And thank you Mr. Padfoot, Ms. Raven, for escorting him here. I am your host, Ms. Sprite, along with Mr. Moony. Please, have a seat." She and Remus were lounging on a sofa, sipping butterbeers.
"You are most welcome, Ms. Sprite," Bridget replied, immediately jumping onto the couch. "I cannot believe you three talked me into this."
"Hey, I resent being included in that," Lupin frowned. "It was Mr. Padfoot and Ms. Sprite's doing, I was simply pulled into it."
"Oh come now, Mr. Moony. You jumped at the prospect of doing a bit of pranking," Sirius replied.
"Only because I wanted to get out of the hospital wing."
"Hey!" shrieked Bridget indignantly.
"Anyway," Heather yelled over the din, "we figured you could use a bit of help, oh young Marauder." Harry gave the Defense teacher a look. "Well, you have to admit, you do have a 'certain disregard for rules', am I right? You need some sort of outlet for it."
"Ms. Raven, Mr. Moony, stop arguing and enjoy the show. And…" Sirius faltered, his eyes resting on Harry. "You need a nickname. Sparky! You know, the phoenix and all? Oh, fine. I officially bequeath you with the temporary nickname, Mr. Prongs II. Anyway, get over here and see what's happening to Snape! And have some food, you're probably pretty hungry by now."
"Do I even want to know what you're doing to him?" Harry asked, gratefully accepting the sandwich Heather offered him as soon as he sat down.
"Depends. Are you in the mood for a bit of humor?" Bridget inquired, grabbing one of the sandwiches as well. Harry stared at a section of the wall that looked a lot like a security camera monitor, showing various parts of the castle. In what were unmistakably the dungeons, Cho could be found, laying on the floor and panting hard. She was covered in purple goo and her robes and hair had been charmed pink. Snape was even more amusing. Large balloons had been tied to his arms and legs and he was floating around the room. His greasy black hair was cut into a Mohawk, and he appeared to be chanting something.
"It's an incantation to get rid of the swarm of mosquitoes," Sirius explained, sensing Harry's confusion. "You can't really see them from here. Pity. Oh well, he's wasting his time anyway. They're not real mosquitoes. But of course, dear old Snivellus doesn't realize that the incantation he's saying is just going to make them multi- oh darn it." Snape had just yelled some spell, ending all of the enchantments, although Cho was still purple. He stormed out of the room, and the monitors showed him moving through Hogwarts at an astounding pace.
"I believe it might be safer if Prongs II and his friends spend the night here, am I correct?" Remus asked. Seeing Snape in a mood far worse than usual caused Harry to nod vigorously as Heather raced out to get Hermione and Ron. She returned a short time later, Ron laughing hysterically and Hermione berating her own professor.
"Sirius, Remus!" Ron gasped between chuckles. "That was hilarious!"
"Well, we couldn't have done it if you hadn't alerted us to the dangers young Prongs II was in. As Marauders, we thank you. The two of you need some nicknames as well," Sirius pondered the two of them for a while. "Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger, you shall have to wait until we find suitable nicknames. For now…"
A large party, rivaling one of the Gryffindor tower after a successful Quidditch game, followed, including a numerous amount of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products. It only ended when Hermione forced them all to go to bed, claiming that she, Harry, and Ron had school, Sirius and Heather had to teach, and Remus and Bridget should just plain get some rest. That move almost earned her the nickname of Moony II, but both she and Moony I vetoed it. Despite a number of complaints, the students and adults fell asleep not long after in the seemingly unlimited number of rooms at the Eastern end of the chamber.
With the exception of Harry's vast improvement in Occlumency, nothing very exciting happened throughout the November and December months. Madam Pomfrey and Bridget had declared Remus healthy after a couple of days, during which the vast majority of the student body welcomed him back with open arms, and he returned to working for the Order.
Hermione and Ron were going on holiday with the Weasleys, paid for by a large amoung of money that had suddenly appeared in their vault. Harry knew full well that it was from Sirius; he had given Lupin a large sum of money as well, but Harry kept his mouth shut about it. After all, he had given the twins his Triwizard winnings, and didn't need Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, or Remus, for that matter, thinking he believed they couldn't support themselves.
It was currently the day before Hermione and Ron left for their trip through Italy. Harry had, of course, been invited to come along, but decided to stay at the castle with Sirius, Heather, and Bridget. The three Gryffindors were lounging around the common room, Harry attempting to teach them to become Animagi. The book had been forgotten a long time before, as Hermione and Ron were having rather interesting difficulties that it didn't even come close to discussing.
"No, Ron, I highly doubt you are a housefly. Now concentrate!" Hermione snapped, her eyes still closed.
"But it just seems-Harry, how in the world did you do this so fast!"
"I don't know," he answered wearily.
"Well, what animals do you think we are then?" Hermione asked. Harry was saved the trouble of responding by Sirius and Heather's appearance in the common room.
"Having fun?" Sirius inquired, flopping down into one of the squishy armchairs. Harry screamed in reply, smacking his head on a nearby table. "That good, huh?"
"What are you trying to do, anyway?"
"Professor Windling," Hermione started, ignoring her question, "what animal do I remind you of?"
"Oh…" Heather and Sirius exchanged a mischievous glance.
"You're going about it all wrong," Padfoot explained. "Don't look for the answer. Let it come to you."
"How…how?" Run stuttered, looking at the Defense professors in utter confusion.
"Just close your eyes," Heather told him.
"We already tried that!" Hermione objected.
"Do it again! Now, block out everything."
"Including you?" Ron whispered.
"Including me," she agreed. "Find you…inner peace, happy place, whatever you want to call it."
"You think they found it?" Sirius wondered aloud a few minutes later.
"Judging by the fact that they're not responding, I'd have to say yes."
"At least their not fainting like I did," Harry recollected.
"That was just odd, I'm sorry," Sirius admitted. "You had me pretty scared there for awhile." Harry was about to say something in return when Hermione jumped up, shouting at the top of her lungs.
"I'm a cat! A CAT!"
"Hermione, keep it down!" Harry shushed. "I think Charlie might have heard you over in Romania!"
"But Harry, I'm a cat! They're smart, and pretty, and graceful, and I'm a cat! Did you hear Sirius, Heather? I'm a cat!"
"Wonderful, Hermione," Heather smiled, using every bit of willpower she possessed not to burst out laughing.
"What about him?" Harry gestured to Ron, who was staring blankly at the portrait hole.
"It's just taking him a bit longer. Maybe he's got two animals fighting it out for the Animagus form," Sirius guessed.
"That actually happens?" Harry asked, looking at Sirius doubtfully.
"Sometimes, yes," assured Heather. "Two different personalities will fight over the dominant one. It takes awhile."
"Oh, yes! I read about one instance in A Contemporary Guide to Animagi where a man was stuck in a trance for two days!" At that point, Ron blinked several times, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.
"So?" Harry prodded.
"You don't even want to know," he remarked.
"Oh come one, it can't be that-" Ron cut Sirius off with a shout halfway between that of an injured owl and an enraged manticore.
"I'm a goldfish. A GOLDFISH! Would you be happy if you where a goldfish? No, I don't think so!"
"Hey, it could be worse. You could be a bug. Like Rita Skeeter," Hermione reminded him.
"Plus, you can breathe underwater," Harry pointed out. "That would have been rather useful in fourth year."
"Your nickname is officially Bubbles."
"Sirius, that is the most random thing I have ever heard," Heather told him. "But I like it."
"No! Not Bubbles!" But, much to Ron's dismay, the name stuck. Both Harry and Hermione used it whenever speaking to him, whether he was packing, playing chess, or on the platform waiting for the train. Unable to change it, Ron accepted his newly acquired name, but began to call Harry 'Sparky' in return, in honor of Moutohora's mascot.
There! It was almost three weeks. Next chapter should be up not too long from now, part of it was going to end up in this one but was moved at the last minute. And sorry, the new character's also coming next chapter. Oh well. Toodles and reviews!
P.S. Anyone who can give us a suitable nickname for Hermione will be told anything they want to about this story. Help us! Think kitty thoughts!
