Standard Disclaimer goes here.
A/N: Yeah...I'm doing this because I want to be random. I know it's poorly plotted in some spots, but that's the point. So..there. and i know there iz baad grammar in sum spotz but its not ma fault. hehehe. (Just kidding.) ok I know the first chap was kind of stupid, but I promise it'll be better. If not, I'll just delete it. but please no flames. At least I can admit this sux in a funny way. And I know it's not my best writing Drabbles on...who cares? This is just for fun.
Chapter 2: Shorty's Done and Gone Breaketh The Turner
Shorty, can ya dig it. Can ya handle the dance with it? Shorty, can ya rock it? Can ya stop to pop and lock it?
Ron's taste in music was annoying according to Harry, Hermione, and every other Gryffindor. It wasn't just rap, it was bad rap. The kind of rap that is sung just to be sung, whether the words make sense or not. His dancing wasn't great either. Harry would swear Ron would someday put cornrows in his hair. The image of this was disturbing.
Shorty, can ya dig it? Short-ay can ya hurt it? Shorty, won't you dig it? Short-ay! Sh-sh-Short-ay!
With Ron's music on, Hermione became distracted. They were all in the common room, trying to prepare for their journey. Ron was doing ths on purpose of course, trying to see if anyone cared that he was acting foolish. The painting had struck a nerve the previous night. So far, everyone was annoyed. This proved that they did notice Ron, and this made him feel happy enough to dance.
"You dance like an imbocile, Ronald. Why don't you stop and help Harry and I plan for this?" Hermione knew Ron hated helping, but this was important to her. He could at least pretend to care.
Ron walked to the stereo and put the music louder. The vibrations shook the floor like a mini-earthquake. Harry grunted and Ron just danced continuously.
"Uhh . . . Good morning?" Neville emerged into the common room. He asked, "Is Ron having a ciezure?"
"No," Harry laughed, "He's practicing new fighting skills for Voldemort."
"Dance moves like that would kill." Admitted Hermione.
The three had a good chuckle before Ron caught on. He finally shut the music off and sneered. When he sat next to Harry, everyone fell silent. Neville was curious as to what they were all huddling together for, but he knew better than to engage in anymore adventures.
"I'm off to breakfast." Neville declared. "Have fun getting into trouble."
With a limited time to plan, it would be hard to make the idea work one-hundred percent. Hermione explained that to erase the future's negative force-Voldemort, they would have to time travel back to nights of the full or half moon. As no one remembered when the half moons were, they decided Halloween night would be perfect. The night that Quirrell announced to the Great Hall that there was a troll in the dungeon.
"What if Quirrell sees us?" Harry questioned.
A moment passed before Hermione replied, "Think about it. If Voldemort sees us grown up, it won't effect anyone or anything because we are defeating him anyways. If he were to escape, however, and we are spotted by him, he will either go insane or spend time trying to figure it out. If so, we will have more time to accomplish what we want. Either way we have a very great chance of succeeding."
"Bloody hell," Ron stated, "That's complicated. Imagine Voldy-Moldy going crazy. Do you think he would commit himself?"
"Why do you always say bloody hell? Who cares if he commits himself. Hermione just said we have a very great chance of winning." Harry shook his head.
In the middle of the floor sat the Time Turner. Its chain had been fixed so all three of the friends could hold onto it. Hermione nodded, ready to initiate their journey. Harry held one part of the chain and looked at Ron.
"I'm ready, I guess. Got my wand." Even though Ron was nervous, he took another part of the chain into his hand.
Being last, Hermione did her duties of checking that no one was watching. She held onto her part of the chain with one hand, and began to turn the time-travel mechanism with the other.
Instantly, the three of them felt their eyes shut tight. A powerful wind spun around them, almost knocking them out of place. Time literally stopped.
"Open your eyes guys." Hermione smiled as the two boys realized they were still in the common room.
"We're still in the same place!" Ron shouted.
Hermione hushed him and said, "Well, yeah. We didn't teleport, dip-head."
"She means dipshit." Harry joked.
"Ok, now be quiet. We have to get to the Great Hall. I allowed us ten minutes before Quirrell entered. We have to hurry." Hermione knew what she was talking about. She had studied the possible outcomes and situations over and over again.
"Um," Harry pointed to the Time-Turner, "Why's the chain all wet?"
Indeed, the chain was moist. Hermione picked it up and studied it. Ron blushed.
"It's sweat. Great. Ron, I thought you could control your sweaty palms." A tiny bit of anger boiled in Mione's veins.
He answered sheepishly, "Yeah, I can. Just not all the time. This was one case where I couldn't help it. I was nervous as all bloody hell."
"Uh-huh." Harry heard enough of Ron's whining. "And again you say that damned phrase. It's really gross when you leak all over. You should start wearing deoderant on your hands."
"Well, the sweat shouldn't have damaged anything. Ron, you're lucky this time. Now, can we go?" Hermione's impatience wore thin like the hair on Filch. She pocketed the chain, careful not to drop it.
They stood up and rushed out of the common room, careful not to be seen by any ghosts. They made their way down the Grand Staircase and onto the first floor hallway. The Great Hall doors stood unopened. Quirrell was facing the doors and apparently talking to himself. The threesome knew he was actually talking to Voldemort. It was time to interfere.
"Wait, what's the plan?" Ron had obviously not payed any attention to details earlier.
Harry sighed in disgust. "You dunce! We're going to bop Quirrell on the head and drag him out to the back for target practice. Then, we're going to strip him of his clothes. We'll need the tar and feather though so-"
"He means," Mione cut in, "We're going to follow Quirrell and wait for Harry's younger self to appear so we can help him destroy Voldy right then and there instead of wasting so many years getting into trouble. Who knows, you might be able to study more after this and pass your OWL's and NEWT's."
"Yipee," Ron cheered sarcastically. "I'd rather take my chances keeping everything the way it is. I can handle a war. Why not, right? What's the worst that can happen anyways? We already know most people are on Dumbledore's side. Even Snapee-poo."
Hermione and Harry side-glanced at Ron as if he missed something dreadfully important.
"Umm . . . Let's just go do this." Harry nudged Hermione.
The three of them slowly approached Quirrell, who looked different from what they remembered. Quirrel didn't even look behind him. He walked right into the Great Hall and began running.
"Troll!" Quirrell shouted bloody murder, "Troll in the dungeon!" He glanced around the hall.
Students were silent at first. But then came the tidal wave of panic. Hermione, Harry, and Ron entered the hall and hid behind a podium as students ran around and shouted. Dumbledore stood up from behind the Head Table and demanded everyone shut their ugly mouths.
"Quiet!"
The old man went on with a tiny splurge of words. No one was really interested. They were too anxious, curious, and scared shitless to care what the Headmaster said.
Dumbledore could sense this, and began drabbling. "I am not going to say it again! Do not panic! . . . I am so tired of you little shits right now. Panicking over a freaking troll when you could all just attack him as a giant mob. I bet it's not even a troll. I bet Quirrell just made it up so we couldn't see him trying to take the Sorcerer's Stone. You know, this Halloween is the worst yet. But I bet next year will be even shittier. I'm going to have to hire another damned Defense teacher. Might as well make Snape Defense teacher considering my horrible judge of character. But who am I to talk about characters?"
"Huh?" Hermione noticed Albus' ramblings. "Something's not right. He never said those things."
Ron laughed, "We must've not worked that turner right." He began to feel nrevous again.
Harry shook his head, "Hermione, you're right. Something's messed up."
"I'm wondering if maybe we just never noticed him talking like that. I mean, no one was paying attention." Reaching in her pocket, Hermione fished out the Time Turner. She studied its parts and grunted. "Ron, you broke it! Your damned sweat blew a fuse."
"How can you blow a fuse of a magical thing that's not even electronic?" Ron asked a sensible question.
And he was ignored as usual.
"You there!" Quirrell ran over to the threesome.
They gasped. Being seen was not on their to-do list. Especially when Ron's gross, sweaty hands broke the turner.
"We are deep." Harry mumbled.
Hermione added, "I can already smell the stench."
Ron felt it necessary to say, "Deep shit. We have arrived in the land of bloody hell."