Something Familiar ( )
Chapter 16 : "The Quick Red Fox Jumps Over the Lazy Brown Dog."
AKA: "Sphinx of Black Quartz, Judge My Vow!"
-=A-=-=-=-=-=-=-A=-
Cedric Diggory - darling of Hufflepuff, youngest seeker in a century and all-round nice guy - had a secret.
It was dark secret, of course, and a rather large one at that. It was the sort of thing that would forever ruin his reputation if it was revealed.
He hated his housemates.
It was an unusual, almost unheard of attitude for a Hufflepuff to have. While most of them had a few people they didn't like, just like anyone else, he absolutely detested everyone in his house. The breadth and intensity of his dislike was something the house had likely never seen before.
As far as Cedric was concerned, it was well-justified.
The entire problem stemmed from his father. The man, who was head of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, had a well-known and entirely deserved reputation as a human supremacist. He couldn't care less whether someone was a muggleborn or pureblood, as far as he was concerned anything that could be considered a "creature" was well beneath him.
Amos made no effort to hide his distaste for all things non-human. In fact, he wore it proudly, displaying it for all to see as if it were some kind of warped badge of honor. He proved it again and again as he tried to pass more and more restrictive laws regulating the "unnatural beasts" and their ilk.
Rumor had it that he was responsible for the disappearance of his own Familiar during his sixth year at Hogwarts. He certainly didn't seem all that broken up about it, which was - to say the least - highly unusual.
It should go without saying that his attitude was anathema to the witches and wizards of Hufflepuff. The bigotry against non-humans was bad enough, considering how many of them served as loyal partners, but the rumors of his Familiar's fate went far beyond that. To the house of friendship and loyalty, harming your own Familiar was the ultimate betrayal.
As with many things, the attitudes of former Hufflepuffs trickled down to their children.
Though many of the students had never heard the old "sins of the father" line, they certainly believed it. Shortly Cedric discovered he was entirely unwelcome in his own house within a matter of days. He was given the cold shoulder at best, and actively bullied at worst.
It was behavior most wouldn't expect from Hufflepuffs, but it really wasn't that uncommon. People tended to forget that badgers were absolutely viscous little bastards.
Cedric actually had more friends in Slytherin than his own house during his first year. The snakes, for all their faults, only cared about a person's talents, power and usefulness. Many of their families even approved of Amos' activities, which was just icing on the cake.
With few friends and even fewer allies, Cedric threw himself into his studies with a vengeance. Charms, transmutation, potions and even history became his refuge. His talents, little more than average to at first, were sharpened with each passing week.
This did nothing but make him more valuable to his Slytherin aquaintances. By the middle of the year he was given the honor of attending the less official lessons that many members of the house received.
And then, during his studies, he came across mention of the Outskirts of Hogwarts. The twisted halls intrigued him, pushing him to pursue the subject further. Eventually he obtained a pair of journals written by former students - courtesy of one of his Slytherin associates - and learned of a way to enter the area.
Third-floor, west corridor. Armor with mace and dented helmet. Tapestry to left. Stand behind it, hold breath, close eyes, step backward.
To his surprise, the instructions actually worked.
Cedric immediately became enamored of the Outskirts. His studies suffered slightly as he began to slip into them any time he had a chance. He dropped from top of his year to fourth, a price he was quite willing to pay. ` Seemingly endless corridors that stretched throughout the closed areas of the castle, decaying spatial enchantments that rendered it an impossible, occasionally shifting maze, ancient, abandoned experiments that had turned into dozens of Merlin-knows-whats over the centuries; in comparison, school felt rather insignificant.
There were even some areas that he was pretty sure were never part of the castle. It wasn't an unreasonable assumption considering the absolute mess of recursive spatial manipulations the area had become. It raised the question of where, exactly, he was when he entered them, a question he was determined to answer.
Almost everything good in his life could be traced back to his fixation on the closed sections of the castle. His skill with defensive and offensive magic came from his efforts to defend himself from the occasional rogue experiment. He lost his chubby build running from the things he couldn't handle (which was pretty much everything). He gained confidence with each night he successfully survived in the true Dungeon of Hogwarts.
It's amazing what a person can accomplish with good looks, confidence and talent. He soon came to the shocking realization that he had, somehow, become the most popular person in his house.
The 180 in attitude was absurd. He wanted nothing more than to hop off his pedestal and tell the lot of them off in the most vulgar way possible, but the knowledge he gained from his Slytherin friends cautioned against it. It was a useful position to be in, and one easily maintained using the acting skills gained from the snakes' private tutors.
So he kept his pedestal, much to his own disgust.
"Cedric? Are you listening?"
The sudden question snapped Cedric out of his reverie.
Blinking, he pursed his lips and dredged up the last few seconds of the conversation. The information leaped out from his subconscious and quickly played across the front of his mind, as swift and accurate as a tape recorder.
"Of course I am, Cho. I know you've had a run of bad luck this year, but don't worry. I'm sure it will get better," Cedric placated her, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly. At the same time, he was thinking, Not likely.
Cho Chang brightened slightly, then remembered she was supposed to be depressed. Her features quickly fell back into a pout. "It's more than just bad luck, Cedric! I swear, someone is out to get me! I'm being targeted for some reason, and I don't know why!"
It took a great deal of effort, but Cedric managed to hold in the amused snicker. He didn't even smile, but the corners of his lips did twitch slightly. Luckily, Cho was too wrapped up in her own misery to notice.
The funniest part of it was that Cho, for all her exaggerated despair, wasn't all that far off. Everything that had happened to her since the start of the year really was the fault of the same group of people. The bit about being targeted was really the only part she had wrong.
She really did just have bad luck. It was pure, dumb chance that she kept ending up in the line of fire of Harry and his friends.
Not that he'd tell her that. He was looking forward to seeing how paranoid she got by the end of the year, assuming her misfortunes continued.
"Cho, you're being paranoid. Who would want to do something like that to you? You're such a wonderful person, who could possibly dislike you that much?" Cedric said in a reasonable, calming tone, almost gagging on the words.
It's probably obvious by this point, but he wasn't exactly a fan of the Ravenclaw. In reality, he disliked her almost as much as he did his classmates. She was so self-absorbed and selfish that almost every word she said rubbed him the wrong way.
Unfortunately she was one of the most popular girls in school, making her the "ideal" girlfriend for him. Going out with her did nothing but raise his esteem in the eyes of his peers, who really only cared that she was hot.
He had to admit, he was pretty fond of that aspect himself. It was one of the few parts of her he liked, other than how willing she was to engage in a quick Snog'n'Grope ™.
"So… do you want to meet up again tonight?" Cho suddenly asked, brightening for real this time.
Cedric shook his head with faux regret. "Sorry, Cho. I have my study group tonight. You know I can't skip it."
"Ugh. The snakes again?" Cho asked with distaste. Twirling a lock of hair around one finger, she tilted her head and pushed her chest forward in an obvious attempt to accentuate her good looks. "I don't know why you hang out with those slimy guys. Wouldn't you rather spend time with me?"
Cedric sighed, eyes scanning her face and body in a way that made her preen under his gaze. He could just barely pick up the tell-tale signs of annoyance and artifice there.
Sometimes he couldn't help but feel like Cho might be just as bad as he was in some respects.
"You know I'd love to spend time with you, but I made a commitment. I can't just go back on it," he answered. "Besides, they're helping me with the stuff I'm not good at. There's no way I'll get Head Boy without their help."
"Sure. Their 'help.' I can't help but wonder exactly how much it's costing you."
Not much. Just the occasional favor here and there, he through ruefully. Distract a professor, smuggle in a package…
"What are you bad at, anyway?" Cho suddenly asked.
"Oh, you know, stuff. Transfiguration and Potions, mostly."
"You got the highest grade on the last Transfiguration exam. My whole house was up in arms about it. Mandy wouldn't shut up about it for a week."
"Just because everyone's worse than me doesn't make me good at it."
"And Snape really likes you for some reason, everyone knows that! There's no way you won't get a good grade in Potions with him behind you!"
That comment was actually enough to make Cedric twitch slightly, and not just because of how rude the implications were.
The Potions professor didn't show nearly as much favoritism as people thought. His snakes always got good grades, sure, but that was because they deserved them. The only advantage he gave them was the private Potions lessons he gave twice a week in the Common Room.
Cedric couldn't help but wonder once again how people would react if they knew how much of the man's "greasy bastard" act was exactly that: an act.
Cho, surprisingly, seemed to catch his slight slip. "Uh… sorry, Ced. I know you actually like him… for some reason. I shouldn't have said that."
It was times like this that made Cedric wonder if he should have gone for Anne in Gryffindor instead. He knew for a fact that she was quite a bit less judgemental and self-absorbed than Cho. It technically wasn't too late to change his mind, given that she was single again, but starting all over with a new girl would be a pain.
"It's okay, Cho. I know most of you guys don't like him. I'd just appreciate it if you didn't say stuff like that around me," Cedric replied. "So… how's Jen doing? I haven't seen her in a few days. She still having that breakout?"
"OMG yes! It's awful, you can barely see her face under all the zits. I'm so~ glad I don't react to stress like that, aren't you?"
"Well, I'm sure you'd still be beautiful if you did."
"Flatterer," Cho accused, giving him a playful shove.
You have no idea…
"But really, I think it's probably because I use…"
Sighing internally, Cedric shoved the conversation into the back of his mind and went back planning the night's foray into the Outskirts.
-=A-=-=-=-=-=-=-A=-
A bat made of folded paper winged happily through the halls of Hogwarts.
Mr. Happy Bat 0218 was one of the many Halloween decorations that had popped up in the castle over the past two weeks. They had started off subtle and mundane, no more than pumpkins and paper chains in fall colors, but ramped up in quality and quantity day by day. Now heavily enchanted decor could be seen everywhere, from paper bats like Mr. Happy Bat to magicked scarecrows that offered passing students pieces of candy.
Mr. Happy Bat 0218 hadn't even been around a full day, but it had already decided it loved life. The world was full of wonders, his fellow decorations were nice, and flying was fantastic! It was certain it could drift through the halls of Hogwarts forever and never get bored!
Swooping around a corner, 0218 buzzed a group of second-years, delighting in their surprised squeals. It then did a loop-de-loop before stopping to hover in the air before a scarecrow. A snappy salute was given and returned, a greeting between decorations, before it went back to its business.
Life was good.
Life was wonderful.
Life was-
"Est ut Nihil."
Mr. Happy Bat's train of thought was shattered by the sudden, grave intonation. A moment later a wave of pleasant heat washed over it. The bat gave gave a pleased squeak and reveled in the stranger's kindness, then realized the heat was increasing rapidly. Its little ink eyes widened in horror as it watched the tips of its wings turn black and start smoking.
Wait! Too much, too much! Stop it, I don't want to-
Mr. Happy Bat erupted into a small ball of hazy flame. It lasted only a second before vanishing, leaving a bat-shaped hunk of ash in its wake. It quickly crumpled into nothing, leaving a small piece of candy flying through the air.
Hermione casually reached up and snatched the ballistic treat out of the air. She unwrapped it with one hand in a deft motion, then popped it into her mouth.
"Mmm… toffee," she announced. "I love toffee."
Beside her, Harry and Neville winced at the sharp crunch her mouth produce as she ground the candy into nothing.
"Uh, Hermione? You know you'll kill the poor things a lot quicker if you put more magic in the spell, right?" Nevilel asked his friend hesitantly. "Like… a lot quicker."
Hermione rolled her eyes as she replied, "Of course I do, Nev. What kind of a moron do you take me for?"
"...then why…?"
"Did you hear that little 'squeak' it made when it realized? It was so cute! I love that sound, and the candy wouldn't taste nearly as good without it."
"You love the noise they make when you slowly and horribly burn them to death?" Harry asked curiously as Neville took a cautious step away from her.
"Yes. Is that a problem, Harry?" Hermione asked in a tone that made it clear there better not be.
Harry shrugged. "Not really. It's just a little weird."
"Like you're one to talk," Hermione grumbled. "Think of it like this: imagine daisies screamed adorably when you torched them."
"I don't think that's the same, 'mione. Daisies are plants, and plants are evil."
Neville cleared his throat pointedly.
"Ooh, right. Sorry, Nev. I meant most plants are evil. Mass-murdering plant spirits that pretend to be people so they can eat you are fine, obviously."
Neville nodded, satisfied.
"But Harry, the bats are made of paper. You know what paper is made of, don't you?" Hermione asked, giving him a sly smirk.
Harry considered the question for a moment, then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He slowly turned his head, examining each of the dozen or so paper bats in the hall.
"Fire. We need fire, and lots of it," he declared.
"No! No fire! Bad Harry!" Neville snapped, smacking Harry on the nose with a rolled-up piece of transfiguration homework. "Besides, they're made of plant corpses. They're already dead, so you don't need to kill them again."
Harry frowned, but nodded. "True."
"Ah, but Harry, you need to remember that magic is bullshit. They might be flying around because someone brought the plants back to life," Hermione advised.
"Also true," Harry agreed, his frown deepening. "They could be…. ZOMBIE PLANT BATS!"
"Ow. Damn it, Harry, I told you not to use capslock when you say stuff like that. It gives me a headache."
"And that's just ridiculous! There's no way they could be zombie plant bats!" Neville protested.
"Really, Nev? Are you sure? Can you really say with 100% certainty that there's no possibility of it at all?" Hermione insisted. "I mean, they could be plotting to eat us all, even as we speak. Just look at their beady little ink-eyes."
"...they are pretty beady."
"And they're made of paper. They could inflict some pret~ty nasty paper cuts if they really wanted to."
Neville shuddered as he pictured himself suffering death-by-a-thousand-papercuts. One hand slowly slid into his robes, drifting toward the pocket he kept his wand in.
"Attaboy," Hermione said with a satisfied smile.
-=A-=-=-=-=-=-=-A=-
And there was much fire.
-=A-=-=-=-=-=-=-A=-
"Honestly, what in Merlin's name were you three thinking? Getting caught setting an entire corridor on fire?" McGonagall snapped, glaring at the trio seated on the other side of her desk. "You're lucky no one got seriously hurt - somehow - or you'd be in a lot more trouble!"
Harry and Neville shrank beneath her angry gaze, while Hermione just looked a bit puzzled at her choice of words.
"But Professor, it's not like we weren't careful. I had Harry clear the hallway with Shoving Spells before we started burning things!" Hermione protested.
Harry perked up and gave McGonagall a proud smile. "I did a good job! I got them around the corner and everything. You should have seen them bounce off the wall."
Beside him, Neville groaned and shrank further.
"Ah, yes. The Shoving Spell. That would explain the broken bones, then," McGonagall observed. "I was wondering how you managed that."
"It's nothing that a little Bonebinder Potion won't fix, right?" Neville asked hopefully, trying and failing to meet their head of house's eyes.
"Don't worry, Mr. Longbottom. You're not in trouble for that part, at least not a the moment," McGonagall informed him. "You technically haven't been caught yet, since no one has come forward and pointed the finger at you. Given the physical trauma of a concussion and emotional trauma of nearly being swallowed by a wall of flames, it's unlikely that anyone was coherent enough to do so."
"Oh, that's good," Neville sighed in relief. "Uh… I mean…"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Longbottom, did you say something? I'm afraid my hearing isn't what it was used to be," McGonagall stated, giving him a pointed look. "I've been far too near quite a few explosions, I'm afraid, and healing magic can only do so much about repeatedly ruptured eardrums. It's why you should always wear ear protection when blowing something up."
Hermione quickly withdrew a bit of parchment from her robes and jotted a note.
McGonagall pretended not to notice.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you, since I did catch you red-handed," McGonagall said. "The three of you will have detention with Mr. Filtch. It will last until you've scraped every bit of soot off the walls, without cleaning spells."
The trio gave a synchronized, subdued nod.
"Good. Since we all understand each other, you may leave."
Hermione and Neville leapt to their feet and started toward the office door. It took them a moment to realize that the third wheel of their tricycle hadn't moved.
"Is there something else, Mr. Potter?" the Transfiguration professor inquired, eyeing him.
"Uh… I guess? I mean, something is kind of bothering me a little, I think."
"Oh? Would you like to speak privately?" McGonagall asked, glancing toward his friends.
"What? No, it's not that kind of thing. It's just…" Harry paused to look around pensively. "It's just that I smell something."
"Sorry," Neville muttered, earning a hard smack from Hermione.
"You smell something?" McGonagall inquired, raising an eyebrow. "What sort of something, Mr. Potter? What about it could be distressing you so?"
"That's just it, I'm not sure. I've never smelled something like it before. It makes me nervous, but I don't know why," Harry replied. "It smells really, really good, but really, really bad at the same time."
"Perhaps the haggis I had for lunch?"
"Definitely the haggis," Hermione snickered from near the door.
"...maybe? I guess it might be. I've never smelled haggis before. Is it really good and really bad at the same time?"
"Quite," McGonagall answered at the same time Hermione said, "Just the last bit."
It earned her a glare.
"Well, Mr. Potter, I don't think it's anything to worry about. I would advise you to just keep a nose out for it, and let me know if you learn anything else. Does that sound reasonable?"
"Sure, Professor. Thanks."
"You're late, Hound."
The cold rebuke came the moment the young man known as Hound stepped into the Shrieking Shack's basement. The irritated edge to it was enough to send a chill down his spine. He carefully schooled his features into impassiveness, not daring to show the slightest hint of guilt or nervousness.
His face should be hidden in the shadows beneath his hood, but he was fairly certain Fox had a way to see past that. She was certainly quick enough to seize on any sign of weakness to lend credence to his theory.
"Sorry, Fox," he apologized, studying the older girl carefully. He was prepared to dive out of the room the moment she reached for one of her pockets, just in case.
Fox was, like him, dressed in the cargo pants and hoodie that was the unofficial family uniform. Unlike him her hood was down, revealing a face that was perfectly average in every respect. Her mid-length brown hair was probably the most common color and style in England, and her build was likewise unremarkable.
The only remarkable thing about Fox was how absolutely unremarkable she was. If one were to see her in a crowd, their eyes would no doubt pass right over her. They would probably forget they had ever seen her in a matter of minutes.
It was as if someone had carefully designed her appearance to be as average and unmemorable as humanly possible.
"The West exit passage caved in a little more over the summer. I barely fit through it now, so it took three times as long as it should have," Hound explained.
"That's why you're supposed to scout all the exits when the year starts," Fox snapped. "Maybe I should tell Grandmother you're getting lazy."
Hound went pale beneath his hood. "No, please God no. Let's just keep this between us, okay?"
"Hmm… I don't know. It seems like the kind of thing she'd like to know."
"I'll pay for some of that nice imported Vodka you like," he offered desperately. "The stuff that comes in the crystal vials."
Fox considered for a moment.
The look on her face suggested she was carefully thinking over his offer, but Hound knew better than that. Rather than deciding if she wanted to take it, she was actually trying to decide if she wanted to extort more out of him and whether or not to honor the deal.
Finally, she said, "Fine, just this once," in the tone that meant she'd actually do it.
"It's not like you don't have access, so just take the money out of my account," Hound sighed, wincing
"Consider it done," Fox said, giving him a satisfied smirk. "Now where's the fire? You know I hate this damned place, so you'd better have a good reason to call me here off-schedule."
Hound gave her a cheeky grin. "Oh, it's a good reason. A really, really good reason…"
There was a long pause.
"Puppy… I have somewhere to be. If I'm late because you decided to waste my time with pointless theatrics, I'm going to tell Grandmother you're interested in seduction training, but were too embarrassed to ask," Fox warned with a faux sweet smile. "Your Christmas holiday will involve several Gender-Bender Potions and a bunch of muggle nightclubs."
The unpleasant mental image the threat conjured was enough to make Hound gag.
"Urk. Fine! I found the Dragon's Wand."
There was a long pause.
"What!?" Fox finally shouted. She leapt out of her chair and seized him by the collar. Easily lifting his feet off the floor with one arm, she gave him a hard shake. "Are you fucking with me!?"
"N- no! I swear on our mother's grave!"
"Mom ain't dead, dipshit," Fox snapped.
"I'm serious!"
Fox glared at him for a moment longer, then abruptly released his hoodie. He just barely managed to avoid collapsing to the floorboards.
Clearing her throat, Fox smoothed the front of her shirt several times before speaking again, this time in her normal, dispassionate tones. "You're absolutely sure about this? If I tell Grandmother about this and you end up being wrong, there'll be hell to pay for both of us."
The warning in her voice made it absolutely clear who would be suffering more, were the worst to happen.
"Fox… If you'd been there, you'd know. I've never felt anything like it before," Hound said in a subdued tone. "That wand was unbelievably vicious. I was thirty meters away and I could still feel the malice oozing off of it."
"That does sound about right," Fox conceded. "Still…"
"The thing was barely under the kid's control. It was practically trying to yank his magical core out of him every time he used it,"
Despite her best efforts, Fox's eyes widened in shock. "You're saying someone was casting with it? Someone was actually using the Dragon's Wand?"
"Damn right they were, and get this… it was Harry Potter."
"Ha! I knew it! I fucking knew it! I told that crusty old bitch James had it!" Fox shouted gleefully. "It's the goddamn Potters! It's always been the fucking Potters and I was fucking right and no one ever fucking listened!"
"Hey, I believed you, sis."
There was a loud thunk as a slim, needle-like knife slammed into the wall beside Hound's head. There was so much force behind the throw that it sank several centimeters into the wood.
"I've told you not to call me that, Puppy," Fox warned, once again icy cold. "I'll report to Grandmother. You better pray to every god you've ever heard of you're right about this."
"Don't worry. I'm sure," Hound reassured her, barely phased by the sharp instrument that came within millimeters of drawing blood. "I gotta get back. Sprout'll be doing a headcount soon, and I haven't had a chance to spike her new bottle of sherry yet."
"Wait," Fox ordered as he started to turn away.
Shivering, Hound turned back to give her a curious (and wary) look.
"I'm supposed to tell you that your successor has been chosen. She'll be enrolling next year. Make sure you do a good job training her."
"No worries. Mink's pretty quick on the uptake. Training her up will be a breeze."
"It's not Mink. She had a bad reaction to the Lore. The damned geas kicked in and broke her pretty bad. We had to do a full wipe to get rid of the aftereffects. It's going to take years to retrain her to the point of being useful."
"Jesus. I was so sure she'd handle it okay. If it's not Mink, who'd they end up picking?"
"Hummingbird."
Hound's mouth dropped open. "Hummingbird? Seriously? What the hell are they thinking?"
"It's not like we have a lot of casters left to choose from, Puppy, and even fewer have a strong enough magical core to justify Hogwarts," Fox admonished. The slightest hint of sadness crept into her voice as she did so. "Not even we can stack every deck. Sometimes you have to palm the cards where you can."
"But… Hummingbird…? She's a little… uh… erratic."
"Just train her up enough so she won't blow it. You'll have three years before her secrecy geas wears off. That should be enough, even for her."
"..."
-=A-=-=-=-=-=-=-A=-
Author's Note
-=A-=-=-=-=-=-=-A=-
As you can see, I'm actively working on this again.
I'm still having a lot of trouble getting into writing and issues with inspiration, so updates are probably going to be slow as fuck. Chapters are also going to be shorter than they were in the past, since - after reading a lot of varied armature fiction - I've decided 7,500 words is a bit too much. I'll probably be aiming for something around the length of this chapter in the future.
So, anyway, my thoughts on this chapter.
I always thought Cedric had a potential as a character. I'm not sure exactly where his SF history came from. I guess the thought of the Hufflepuff golden boy being nothing like people thought he was amused me.
Cedric is one of three groups that actively explore the Outskirts of Hogwarts. Fred, George and King are obviously the second, while the third has only been mentioned in passing and may or may not be important. I haven't decided one way or another yet.
The Outskirts themselves are fairly important, though not incredibly so during this year. They are not planned to become a central focus of the story. There's no danger of SF becoming a dungeon-delving story or anything. Not unless I completely lose control of the plot, at least.
I'm trying not to let that happen.
Those of you who read SFC can probably guess what group Fox and Hound are related to. If you haven't read SFC, then don't worry about it. There actually isn't much about the people in question in it and I maintain that it's not worth reading Classic just to make sense of these little bits. Everything important will be in this rewrite eventually.
When I was writing SFC, I planned to have the two of them introduced in the second year. When I started the rewrite, I decided to swap the order that two parties were introduced in, pushing the one that originally appeared in year one back and moving these guys forward.
Fox and Hound's names are a reference to one of my favorite fanfics, Larceny, Lechery and Luna Lovegood.
The next chapter is "99 Kilos of Soot," and if all goes as planned, it will deal with the events during and immediately surrounding Halloween.