Distractions

As the group of Saiyans and Wizards made it past the ticket takers, Gohan and Goku were held up.

"Er, excuse me, sir. May I see your ticket?"

Goku blinked stupidly. "My ticket? But I'm dead. Why would I need a ticket?" Goku pointed at his halo.

The woman stared as Goku and Gohan strode past. "But sir!"

Vegeta flashed his diplomatic credentials. "The clown's with me," he grumbled.

The woman nodded. "Very well, Ambassador, prime seats, just follow the red-heads."

"Hey, Vegeta, that was cool! Are you a spy or something? Could you do that again?"

Vegeta glared in annoyance. "Shut up! I hoped a few years in the afterlife would make you less of a royal pain, but I see obviously THAT WAS WISHFUL THINKING!"

"Gosh, Vegeta, you don't have to yell."

Vegeta growled in frustration. "WHAT PART OF SHUT UP DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? ONE MORE SOUND AND YOU'RE DEAD, YOU HEAR ME, KAKAROT?"

Goku pressed his lips.

Vegeta scowled.

Goku opened his mouth and closed it again.

Vegeta sighed. "What, clown? What is it now?"

"I'm…already dead." Gohan and Hermione sniggered behind their hands.

Vegeta bared his teeth. "YOU IDIOT! How could it be possible that the blood of a proud warrior race flows within your pathetic, moronic veins? YOU'RE A DISGRACE TO ALL SAIYANS, KAKAROT!" He stalked up the stairs, breaking a few steps as he went.

"I love your dad," Hermione whispered at Gohan. Gohan laughed.

A few minutes later, they were selecting seats in the Minister's box.

Harry looked behind his seat and gasped. "Dobby?"

Hermione, Ron, and Gohan turned to look. A small, bony creature with large, brown, orb eyes and nose the size and shape of a small tomato spoke in a high voice. "Did sir just call me Dobby?"

"Sorry," Harry said. "I thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby, too. My name is Winky, sir. And you…you surely is Harry Potter!"

"Yes, I am."

"Dobby is speaking of you all the time, sir."

"How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ahhh, I is meaning no respect, sir, but Winky is thinking you are doing him no favor, sir."

Harry blanched. "What do you mean?"

"Dobby is getting big head, sir. Has ideas above his station." She lowered her face, blushing. "Dobby is wanting paying for his services, sir."

"Well, that is good, isn't it?" Hermione cut in. "Everyone should be paid for their work."

The elf looked up at her. Winky's eyes widened. She stared at Hermione, as though hypnotized.

Hermione blushed. "Is there something on my face?" She asked jokingly, but to her surprise, the elf nodded in awe, making circular motions around her own large orbs. Hermione and Gohan gasped. Gohan whirled her to face him, seeing if the markings were visible, but they didn't see any. She looked back at the elf. "Do you still see them?" The elf nodded. Hermione and Gohan exchanged glances.

The elf continued shakily. "House-elves is not paid, my Lady. No…no…I says to Dobby, go find a nice family and settle down. He is getting all sorts of high ideas unbecoming a house elf. You goes racketing yourself like that, and you be standing in front of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin.

"About time he had a little fun."

"House-elves is not to have fun, Harry Potter. House-elves do what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, but Master Crouch says save him a seat, and so up I comes."

"Why did he send you up here, if you don't like heights?"

"Master is a busy man. He wants Winky to save him a seat. Winky comes and saves him a seat, because Winky is a good house-elf." She looked over the edge of the box and hid her eyes again with a squeak. Harry turned back to the others.

"That's a house elf?" Ron muttered. "What a weirdo!"

"Dobby was weirder," Harry said.

They looked over at the adults, who were meeting and making introductions. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands, and Percy kept bowing, causing his glasses to shatter on the floor. Cornelius Fudge walked over and greeted Harry like an old friend before turning to the Saiyans. He shook Gohan's hand.

"Ah, Mister Son, what a pleasure, as always. Why don't you introduce me to the others?"

"Oh, well this is Vegeta…That is Piccolo…You've met them already. And this is my dad, Goku," Gohan said proudly.

Fudge blanched as he saw the unfamiliar face. "Goku Son, aren't you a Muggle?" He asked suspiciously.

"No, I'm a squid," Goku said earnestly. Videl choked on her drink. Gohan groaned; Harry and Ron exchanged grins.

Hermione laughed. "I love your father, Gohan." She whispered. Gohan blushed.

"I think Goku means a Squib, Minister," Videl explained.

"Oh, and who might you be?"

Videl went pink. "Oh, I'm…Videl Satan."

Goku shifted his eyes at her. Fudge's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you are not lost, my dear?" he asked coldly. Videl became incredibly fascinated with her shoelaces.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Videl's shoulders. "She's with us," Gohan said firmly, stepping forward.

Fudge jumped at Gohan's sudden change in tone. Goku smiled proudly at his son. That's my boy.

Just then, a man with white-blond hair approached. "Ah, Fudge. How are you? I don't expect you have met my wife Narcissa or my son Draco?"

Fudge hitched on a magnanimous smile. "How do you do, how do you do? Allow me to introduce you to Bulgarian Minister, Mr. Obalonsk. And I do believe you've met Arthur Weasley?"

Malfoy and Weasley regarded each other coldly. Lucius Malfoy's eyes swept the entire row. "Good Lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get top seats? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much." Vegeta cracked his knuckles.

Fudge, who hadn't heard, continued. "Lucius gave a generous donation to St Mungos. He's here as my guest."

"How…nice," Mr Weasley said with a fixed smile.

Mr Malfoy's eyes rested upon Hermione, his lips curling into an unpleasant sneer. Hermione's cheeks went a bit pink, but she returned his gaze, looking slightly haughty. Suddenly, to her friends' surprise, a small ironic smile formed on her lips. Gohan and Harry exchanged grins, knowing exactly what was happening inside that bushy head of hers. Elder Malfoy scowled and looked away. Draco Malfoy, however, continued to stare at her. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten what had happened the day he had enraged her. Hermione's smile fell away, replaced by a thoughtful frown.

"((At least he didn't tell his father about it,))" Gohan said quietly in Namekian. Draco blinked, and Elder Malfoy turned his head slightly.

"Shh," Hermione said, looking up at the Elder Malfoy, whom she was sure was looking at them through peripheral vision.

Elder Malfoy was now reluctantly shaking hands with Goku. "Well, Mr Son, I must say I'm surprised to see you. We were all under the impression that you were dead."

"I am dead. See?" Goku flicked the halo above his head. "I've got a special pass from King Yemma to return for the day."

Malfoy started, and Fudge gasped, both staring at the golden ring.

Goku blinked stupidly. "What's wrong?"

The two men turned from him, pretending they hadn't heard the question or even seen him.

"Slimy gits," Ron grumbled.

"Your father needs to learn to be more subtle, Gohan," Hermione whispered.

Gohan laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that!"

Shortly, all were mesmerized by the start of the Quidditch Game. Gohan pointed as some beautiful shimmery women began dancing. "What are those?"

"Ah, Veela," Mr Weasley took his glasses off and began cleaning them.

Soon, the majority of the men in the arena were standing, shouting and trying to jump onto the grounds, Harry and Ron included.

Gohan stared at everyone, blinking stupidly. "What's wrong with everyone?"

Hermione shook her head as she pulled Harry and Ron back in their seats. "Honestly!"

Goku stared at the women with an expression to match his son's. "What's the big deal? They are just dancing women. They aren't even that strong."

Vegeta scoffed, folding his arms over his chest with a smirk. "Humans. They're easily impressed."

Piccolo stared at the women in horror, his ears twitching.

"Hey, what's with Piccolo?" Goku asked.

Hermione gasped. She could hear a faint high pitch sound coming from the Veela. She dived out of the seat and plugged Piccolo's ears with her fingers.

Piccolo sighed with relief. Thanks. I couldn't move.

"((Really? That's weird,))" Hermione said, gasping because she realized Piccolo's lips hadn't moved.

Yeah. It must have been that specific frequency. So you know Namekian? Gohan teach you? A proud smile formed on his lips.

You…heard that?

I sensed it just before your lips moved. It's quite an impressive feat. It took Mr. Popo a hundred years to learn the syntax. I'm not surprised Gohan likes you. If you didn't have such a troubled past, you likely would have shared his innocence.

Would have— she trailed off bitterly, removing her fingers from the Namek's ears because the Veela had stopped dancing.

Hey, don't think like that. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask to be born to him, and you didn't ask for him to murder your mother and the Potters in front of you. If you are a bit affected, tainted by his evil, it's no fault of your own. It's his fault. I guess now I've got company…in that aspect, he added with a bitter smile. They both ignored the shower of gold galleons that were now pelting them from the Leprechauns'' rainbow.

Hermione softened. She knew about Piccolo's past: Kami, King Piccolo, and Junior. But she hadn't dwelt on it after she had met him. He was one of the good guys. It hadn't occurred to her that the Namek could identify with her conflicted feelings. She hated her father, because she loved her friends, friends her father hated. She wanted revenge for the death of her mother and the Potters, yet she would never admit that she felt a connection to the sadistic monster. It was small, but it was there. She would never forgive him for that. I HATE HIM!

Piccolo flinched from her mental shout. He looked up into her suddenly blue eyes, nodding. You hate him because of that small little doubt you have. The parental connection he has with you. You can feel it, nudging and trying to sway you into decisions your conscience wouldn't allow. It can almost be maddening at times. But you resist it, because you know the consequences of giving in to it. At the same time, you almost crave it, feeling slightly amiss if it isn't there. It's natural to love a parental bond, but the fear and bitterness he's put in you leaves you in constant conflict with it. You are in constant war with yourself. You hate him because of all the things he's done, but you hate him mostly because you love him. You likely hate yourself because you hate the fact that you love him.

Hermione shook her head angrily, her eyes brown again. No…that's not true. I don't love him—

There's nothing wrong with it, Hermione. I hate King Piccolo. He destroyed a lot of lives, killed a lot of people. But it didn't change the fact that he was my father…or my other half. I still cared deeply about him. I wanted to help him as much as I wanted to destroy him. It's horribly painful, watching someone you know and love act so cruel, so maniacal.

But it isn't an act, Piccolo. They are maniacal and cruel.

Maybe, but there are always catalysts that cause such transformations. Did you ever wonder why Riddle became the way he was? King Piccolo grew up in a world where he was neither desired or acknowledged, in a world full of hatred and wars, in a world full of cruel and selfish intent, filled with fear and isolation. I never knew how deeply I had been affected until the day Kami separated from my father. That small shred of doubt, that little bit of fear and hate terrorized the world for decades until a human vanquished him the first time, sacrificing himself for the safety of the world. I admit it should have been me, but I was a coward. You, Gohan, and your other friends are considerably braver than I. That's why you are all in Gryffindor.

I should have been in Slytherin. The hat said so.

Heh. It's a hat, Hermione. It can only judge what it sees inside your head. It cannot know the decisions you will make in your future. Besides, you weren't the only person the hat said that to.

Gosh, Piccolo. I never had you pegged for being such a philosopher, a familiar voice said with laughter in his voice.

Piccolo bristled. Goku! Who invited you to our discussion? Get out…now!

Sorry, Goku laughed. Listen, Hermione. My son really likes you, and he's usually a really good judge of character. Despite your past and your connections, I think you are a really good person. You're always second-guessing decisions you've made. Listen, you need to trust yourself. Your friends trust you. Even Harry trusts you, despite the fact of knowing who your father is. The fact that you would defend Videl even knowing the identity of her father is very promising. You have your heart in the right place. Don't destroy that by over thinking it.

But it's not in the right place, Goku. What if the only reason I defend Videl is to prove that I'm not like…him?

You're overthinking again. What would you have done if you still didn't know who your father was?

Hermione frowned. She knew she would have defended Videl anyways. It seemed the logical thing to do…the right thing to do.

Goku nodded over at them over Gohan's head. See? You already know what to do. You followed your instincts. They are good instincts, despite the conflict you fight within. You are not your father…or your mother. You are Hermione. Just like I am Goku. Some may call me Kakarot…it seems that I am both. But I am more Goku than Kakarot. Just like you are more Hermione than Lady Lianna. Lady Lianna is only what you are. Hermione is who you truly are.

Piccolo smirked. Gosh, Goku. I never had you pegged as a philosopher.

Goku grinned and scratched his head. Just then, the entire stadium erupted into loud cheers as Bagman yelled. "IRELAND WINS! KRUM GETS THE SNITCH, BUT IRELAND WINS!"

'What did he catch the snitch for?" Ron said heatedly. "Idiot. Ireland was a hundred and sixty points ahead?"

Harry clapped with the others. "He knew they'd never catch up. He wanted to end the game on his terms."

Gohan nodded, looking briefly at his father and over at Piccolo and Hermione. He had heard the entire conversation.

Draco Malfoy had smirked as he watched Ron and Ginny scramble at the coins. But Granger had barely noticed as the fake galleons rained down on her and the green elf. Earlier, for some reason, she had dived at the green elf and plugged his ears. The green elf's look of horror had been immediately replaced by relief and gratefulness. Draco had only noticed this because he had placed ear plugs into his ears, mostly to avoid embarrassment. He had heard Granger say something in that language Son had used earlier. Then, she had gasped and looked down at him intensely. The green elf's eyes shifted up at her, a proud look forming on his lips as he quickly shot a glance over at Gohan Son. He watched as Granger bit her lip thoughtfully. A time later, she looked away, glaring. Draco Malfoy was visited with a strange, impossible idea. They are having a conversation…inside their head.

Granger's flattened eyebrows almost grazed her cheeks. An immediate intense feeling of dislike had waved over him as he saw a moment's flash of blue from her eyes. That again. But she didn't change like she had before. The brilliant blue had disappeared, her usual brown returning. The green elf lifted his face toward her and looked quietly into her eyes. Her head jerked to the left, as if she disagreed with the green elf. Her look became bitter; she closed her eyes and shook her head. The green elf nodded and returned his gaze forward, glancing up occasionally at her. She opened her eyes and looked at the top of the green elf's head.

Suddenly, the green elf shot an agitated, reproachful glare over at Son's father. The man smiled back and shrugged apologetically. Son's father fixed Granger with serious eyes. After a moment Granger bit her lip and shook her head. Son's father smirked knowingly before returning to his serious stare. Granger's face softened again, looking somewhat relieved. The green elf smirked over at him, causing Son's father to chuckle stupidly and scratch his head.

Draco looked away and jumped, finding his father's eyes searching him questioningly. Draco shrugged and looked away. He didn't know why he was becoming so interested in the mudblood lately, anyways. If she really was a mudblood. Most Muggle-borns didn't have flash blue eyes, hidden pointed ears, and strange hidden markings on their faces.

The party lasted for hours. Fred and George brought out their filibuster fireworks and lit up the large interior of the tent. Goku regaled the party of his adventures in other world. They argued happily over the events of Quidditch, reliving the glory so much that Piccolo, Hermione, and Goku knew exactly what had happened despite the fact that they didn't pay much attention. Ron sat playing with a tiny replica of Viktor Krum, who was hobbling duck-footedly across the floor. It was only after Ginny fell asleep, a cup of cocoa slipping from her fingers, that Mr. Weasley demanded them to go to bed. With the extra Saiyans, the men's tent was a bit crowded.

"My dad and I can share a bunk," Gohan said enthusiastically. He still wanted to talk to him before he succumbed.

"Sure, son," Goku said, tousling Gohan's hair.

Mr. Weasley frowned. "Are you sure? That will be pretty cramped."

Goku scratched his head, laughing. "Don't worry. Gohan and I are used to roughing it."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "And Mr. Vegeta will get the master bedroom, I guess."

Vegeta scoffed. "Prince Vegeta is sufficient, human."

"Er, as you wish, Prince Vegeta. The master bedroom is yours."

"Hmph! Forget it! If Kakarot is sleeping out here, then so am I."

Goku's eyes lit up. "Hey, I have an idea. The master bed is bigger, right? Why don't me, Gohan, and Vegeta share that! Then no one else has to share or sleep on the floor! That is, unless Piccolo wants a bed."

Gohan groaned. He didn't want to sleep anywhere near Vegeta. Knowing him, he probably kicked in his sleep.

"Don't be silly, Goku. Nameks can rest completely without lying horizontally," Piccolo said.

Vegeta growled, clearly affronted. "There's no way I'm sharing a bed with you, you low-class clown! I'm the Prince of all Saiyans, so I'm shouldn't have to—"

"Yeah, sure Vegeta," Goku said absently, cutting him off. "So, anyone else wants to share with me and Gohan—"

"Fine, I'll share!" Vegeta spat. "But only because I have a few things to discuss—"

"Sure, Vegeta, sure. Okay, so it's settled. Goodnight, all!" Goku stretched and yawned loudly as he headed toward the bedroom.

Vegeta pulled Gohan by the scruff of his collar. "Hey, boy, make sure you stay between me and that clown. And make sure he stays on your side of the bed. Got it?"

"Okay," Gohan said nervously. He hoped it wasn't going to be a long night.

Gohan entered the room and gasped. Vegeta almost bowled him over. "Watch where you're going, clumsy half-breed! I—Kakarot! What are you doing?"

Goku stood in front of the bed in nothing but teddy-bear underwear, looking at him innocently. "Aw, come on. Nobody sleeps with their clothes on in a bed, Vegeta."

Vegeta's face reddened. "Put your clothes back on, clown. NOW!"

"Okay, okay. Gosh, Vegeta, what's the big deal?" Goku said as he pulled on his gi, crawling onto one side.

Vegeta put his hands on his hips. "The 'big deal' is that we are men. Men don't generally sleep together without CLOTHES ON! IDIOT!"

Goku scratched his head. "Actually, men don't sleep together all, unless they're…hey, Gohan, what's that word again? The one where men sleep together."

"Um, gay?" Gohan contributed reluctantly, blushing.

Vegeta exploded. "YOU IMBECILE! YOU MORON! YOU…YOU FOOL! HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST SUCH AN INAPPROPRIATE THING! WHEN THIS IS OVER, KAKAROT, I SWEAR THAT—"

A knock on the door. Mr. Weasley stuck his head in, blushing slightly. Sniggers could be heard down the hall. "Is everything all right in here? It's…er, difficult to sleep with the loud sound."

Vegeta strode past the man, blushing furiously. "Send in one of the other boys. I can't believe I even considered it."

A few minutes later, Bill came into the room, grinning. "Just so you know, boys. This is strictly a convenience thing. I prefer women."

Gohan blushed deeper. Goku scratched his head. "Hey, me too. Vegeta and I had some sort of, what's it called, Gohan? The thing where people misunderstand each other because of different upbringing?"

Gohan sighed in exasperation. "Cultural misunderstanding."

"Yep. That's the one!" Goku patted the bed next to him, smiling stupidly. Gohan rolled his eyes before claiming the middle of the bed.

Suddenly, Vegeta burst into the room, his face a deep purple. Gohan heard two identical voices laughing hysterically. "THAT'S IT! EVERYBODY OUT!"

Next thing Gohan knew, he, his father, and Bill had the master bedroom door slammed in their faces.

Goku chuckled, his hand running through his spiky hair. "I guess Vegeta's taking the master bed after all. Come on, son. It's the floor tonight for us."

As Gohan and Goku fell back on the conjured futon, he whispered into the darkness. "Hey, Fred, George. What did you say to Vegeta?"

The room erupted into sniggers. "Never mind, Gohan," Harry said, grinning.

"That's enough, boys," Mr. Weasley's voice said with a small hint of suppressed mirth. "No more talking."

Gohan groaned. He really wanted to talk to his father. He closed his eyes, hoping that his father would still be around to talk.

Above the tents, Piccolo hovered, smirking. I don't who to feel sorrier for: Vegeta or Gohan. Same old Goku.