Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own any zombies.
The next day found Bree sitting in the common room. She was meticulously polishing an object, but it seemed as if she couldn't get it meet her standards for shininess. Percy walked in, fuming
"I know it's your fault." he said as soon as he saw Bree.
"What is?" Bree asked, any number of things could be her fault on any given day. A first year came in, saw Percy, hugged him tightly, which caused the seventh year to go stiff. The first year released him then left. "That. I know you're responsible for that." Percy growled.
"Oh that." Bree said as she stood up, having given up on making the object shinier than it already was. She pinned it to Percy's chest, it turned out to be his head boy badge. Percy wasn't even sure how she had gotten it and was about to ask when she began talking again.
"Well you see, the twins and I were talking the other day and we decided that you need to loosen up a bit, and hiring prostitutes is illegal, so, first years!" Bree explained cheerily.
"Well you need to get them to… what was that about prostitutes?" Percy asked. Bree grinned and left the common room.
454. Not allowed to steal Percy's head boy badge.
486. Bribing first years to hug Percy Weasley is wrong.
487. Percy does not need a hug.
- nor does he need to "get laid."
Towards the end of September, Bree decided that Divination was utterly useless. Having made this decision she decided to have some fun.
"Oh dear." she gasped, leaning back into her armchair while clutching at her chest. This of course caught Professor Trelawney's attention.
"What is it child? What?" she questioned. Bree wouldn't meet her gaze.
"Well it's just… I'm going to be dead by next week." the blond explained.
"Oh, you poor child." Trelawney gasped.
Bree sniffed and pretended to cry. "I was just wondering, since I just predicted my own death and would like to enjoy the time I have left, may I leave class early today?" she asked.
"Of course, child, of course, and you are excused from the few classes I will be teaching between now and your untimely demise." Trelawney declared.
Hermione glared as Bree gathered up her things before making her way to the trapdoor. Once out of the classroom Bree grinned.
187. Not allowed to leave Divination class early because "I just predicted my own death and would like to enjoy the time I have left."
Hermione was still glaring at Bree at dinner. "You're not going to get away with this. What do you think will happen when next week comes around a your not dead?" she asked.
Bree frowned. "You're right. I'll have to fake my death." she stated. Bree turned to the twins. "Want to help me?" she inquired.
Hermione twitched.
188. Not allowed to fake my own death.
189. Not allowed to ask others to help me fake my death.
Bree had decided that Defense Against the Dark Arts was her favorite class. It was rather odd. The past two years DADA had been her least favorite class. This was probably due to the fact that the past teacher were incompetent. Even so Bree had been expecting Care of Magical Creatures to be her favorite. Then Draco had to go and ruin it, and now Hagrid was terrified of another mishap and had the class taking care of flobberworms. She was learning more about magical creatures in DADA then in Hagrid's class. Professor Lupin was a brilliant teacher, only Draco had bad things to say about him. This led to Bree current activity, muttering to herself in the hall.
"Stupid little bleach blond. Tried to get himself offed by a hippogriff and made us all suffer. Damn Daddy's boy…" Bree stopped in her tracks, a grin over taking her face and scaring off some nearby Ravenclaw first years. "Daddy's boy… yes he's always quick to bring up his father, but what if…" Bree began to giggle as she resumed walking.
Two days later, Bree found herself quite happy as she walked through the halls of Hogwarts. There where whispers in the air. Rumors that Lucious Malfoy was not Draco's father. There were two theories going around about who Draco's father really was. One said it was Gilderoy Lockhart, both he and Draco had attention seeking tendencies. The other rumor said that Severus Snape was Draco's true father, after all the Potions Master favored the blond boy even more then the rest of his Slytherins, there had to be a reason… Yes Bree was quite happy and Draco didn't even know yet… She wondered what would happen if she sent the rumor to the Daily Prophet's gossip column.
380. Not allowed to start rumors that cast doubt on Draco's true parentage
It was now October, which meant that the Quidditch season was starting. This one fact caused Bree to have an hour long debate with herself about whether or not it would be better to have the Quidditch season during the warmer months. The debate ended with the decision that pie was delicious and that Bree should go get some.
While in the kitchens Bree procured some jars of food that she stuck under the bed next to the weapons she had been collecting. She idly wondered how long it would take for someone to notice the suits were no longer armed.
One day a notice appeared on the bulletin board in the common room. It said that the first Hogsmade weekend would be on Halloween. Bree frowned as soon as she read it. Now she would have to reschedule the irreparable mental scarring of the Slytherins to February.
On October sixteenth , just before transfiguration, Lavender Brown was crying just outside the classroom Parvati had her arm around her and was explaining something to Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, who were looking very serious.
"What's the matter, Lavender?" said Hermione anxiously as she, Harry, and Ron went to join the group.
"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."
"Oh," said Hermione, "I'm sorry, Lavender."
"I should have known!" said Lavender tragically. "You know what day it is?"
"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"
The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then she said, "You… you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"
"Well, not necessarily by a fox," said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"
"Oh for the love of…" Bree muttered. ""There are so many flaws in logic here I don't know where to start." she stated.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Well first off, Lavender just said "I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?" if you have to ask then probably not. In order for you to be dreading something it has to be on your mind every single day and keep you up at night. Second, Parvati said that she just got the news today, which means that thee rabbit was killed sometime during the past few days. Lastly…" Bree paused her in explanation and sighed. "Lastly, it's just the way that life works, bad things happen. There will always be something that will bring you down and it's pretty easy to pick a day, or a week, or a month, and say something bad will during that time, because something bad will happen, for example, Ron," Ron stiffened up when he was mentioned, "something bad will happen to you in oh… how about June, yes something bad will happen to you in June."
"Why me?" Ron whined.
"Weren't you listening?" Bree asked in exasperation. "Bad things happen, regardless of whether someone tells you they will, or not."
"But, Professor Trelawney was right about Neville's teacup." Parvati protested.
Bree stared at her "It's Neville." she pointed out. Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, thus ending the conversation.
The next day Professor McGonagall had forced Bree to give up the food and weapons she had been stockpiling under her bed. This was due to the fact the Hermione had discovered the stash late in the night. The discovery never would have happened if it hadn't been for Bree;s own cat and Bree felt that she should be let off the hook for the reason… No one agreed with her.
17. I may not raid the kitchens in preparation for the "Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse."
18. I mat not stockpile weapons under my bed in preparation for the "Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse."
On Halloween morning, everyone was excited to be going to Hogsmade, except Harry, but that was because he didn't get to go.
"Staying here, Potter?" shouted Malfoy, who was standing in line with Crabbe and Goyle. "Scared of passing the Dementors?"
Bree "accidentally" stepped on his foot.
Hogsmade was interesting, to say the least. Zonko's was a pranksters dream, and at Honeyduke's Bree bought a lot of Drooble's best blowing gum. The butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks was good, but Bree still preferred root beer. On the way back to Hogwarts Bree thought she saw a large black dog lucking near the castle.
When Bree entered the Great Hall, she saw that it had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling.
The food was good, as always and the feast ended with entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.
All and all, it was a good day, until the Gryffindors got the entrance to their dorm. No one could get in, and the corridor became jammed with students.
"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password, excuse me, I'm Head Boy…"
And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."
People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.
"What's going on?" said Ginny, who had just arrived.
A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through and Bree saw that the Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.
"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."
"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.
It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.
"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little.
He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.
"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.
"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."
Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."
Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"
One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.
The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.
"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"
Bree grabbed a sleeping bag, pull it over to a corner, and almost immediately fell asleep.
Hours later she woke up. It was rather late and she was staring at the stars trying to figure out what had woken her when a thought occurred to her. "Where the heck is the ceiling?" She sat up and looked around. "Oh yeah, we're all staying in the Great Hall. It's like camping… I hate camping." She rolled over and went back to sleep.
The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder. Bree however, had other concerns. Black had gotten in quit easily, imagine how easy it would be for the zombies. So Bree went off to the library where she wrote up an emergency plan on what to do in case Hogwarts was invaded by an undead hoard. The plan was based off of something she had found from Hogwarts: A History. During the goblin rebellions there had been a plan to keep students safe in case on an attack, Bree simply went from there.
19. I may not write up a Hogwarts Emergency plan for the "Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse."
Days later, Bree was really regretting having given Hermione one of her pamphlets, she thought the girl would be grateful for information about how to prolong her survival, but no, she had immediately turned Bree in to McGonagall.
20. I may not pass out pamphlets with details about the "Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse."
The next day, Bree was sitting in the common room when Harry walked up to her.
"Why are you telling people that I'm a zombie?" he asked.
Bree sighed. "Because I'm tired of people talking about Sirius Black. It's annoying. And did you hear Hannah Abbot's theory that the man could turn into a shrub. Honestly, I think someone would notice a shrub inside the castle, they're not exactly common… well not yet anyway, but that's beside the point. The point is that if people are talking about zombies they're not talking about Black, and if they're not talking about black, they're not annoying me."
"Well, stop it." Harry demanded.
"I already did. Now the rumor is just spreading itself. Nothing I can do."
Harry sighed and left the common room.
21. I may not tell people that Harry didn't survive the killing curse and is in fact a Zombie.
If you want more info on the zombie rules, check out chapter seven of "88 rules for a Hogwarts experience."
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