Blasters and Wands, Chapter Two
Disclaimer: I own several things. Star Wars and Harry Potter are not among them.
When the Carriages arrived at the castle, Harry, Ron and Hermione stepped into the entrance hall, and Harry was immediately grabbed into a hug from Remus Lupin. Harry awkwardly patted Remus' back, and Remus looked at him strangely. "Harry, what's that noise?"
Harry mentally cursed his carelessness and werewolf enhanced hearing. Clearly, as he had forgotten to apply a silencing charm on his limbs Remus had caught the whirring of the servomotors in his arm. On the outside, he just looked confused and asked, "What noise professor?"
Remus looked at Harry in an odd way, one that, at least to Harry said, 'I don't think you're telling the truth' and said "Nothing Harry, I just thought that I heard something."
Harry shrugged, and asked Remus is he was their DADA professor again this year.
"No Harry, I just found out that you were on the train and wanted to see you, so I came!"
The feast was just like old ones, although Harry was afraid that his limbs would be exposed before he wanted them to be, and consequently did not remember anything until Dumbledore said, "There is a time for speeches, but this is not it. TUCK IN!"
And with that, the feast began, Ron stuffing his face, Harry barely managing to keep his manners in mind. He had been longing to eat some good solid earth food for the entire summer, not that Corucant food was bad, but Harry had had some strange cuisine while tracking down the rogue apprentice. By the time Harry had left Tattoine, if he had had one more piece of bantha jerky he would have screamed.
After dinner, the toad like woman who Harry assumed was the DADA teacher stood up during Dumbledore's annual speech. Her voice had a breathless quality to it, like a little girl's voice, only much, much more annoying. After that, she started a speech that sounded vaguely like the ministry of magic was interfering at Hogwarts. Harry wasn't too sure though, as her voice, like Binn's voice, had the tendency to put one to sleep.
Hermione was thoughtful enough to confirm this, as she had a natural immunity to the chloroform effects of Binn's voice.
Classes went on as they always did, only with constant reminders to study because of OWLs, Harry excelled in his classes, mostly because he had had nothing to do except read during the long hyperspace trips between planets. It was during those trips that he really thanked Vader's presence of mind to get his stuff from the castle.
The first DADA class, on the other hand, was a complete and utter disaster.
They had walked into the classroom….
FlashbackIt was Umbrige who spoke first. "Good Morning children"
A few people muttered half-hearted replies, the rest just looked affronted at being talked to as if they were four years old.
"Tut tut. That won't do at all. When I talk to you, I want you to respond. Now let's try that again! Good Morning class!"
The class chanted "Good Morning professor Umbrige" Back at her.
"Now, that was much better don't you think! Now, Wands away and books out please! But before we start, the class goals are on the board, and my one main rule is that you must raise your hand before speaking, and I must call on you before you speak. Now, open your books to chapter one and read chapter one."
Both Harry and Hermione took one look at the course aims and raised their hands. Umbrige saw their hands and seemed to be trying to see how long she could ignore them. Finally, she gave up and pointed at Hermione.
"Yes miss…"
"Granger, professor. I had a question about the course aims."
"The course aims are perfectly clear miss Granger, I don't see what the problem is."
"There's nothing on the board about practicing defensive spells professor."
"Surely you don't think you will be attacked in my class Ms. Granger!"
"No, but what about the dangers that lurk outside of school?"
"Who, do you think would attack children like yourselves?"
"Death Eaters, Dark Wizards in general, Voldemort perhaps?"
"Voldemort is NOT back, Ms. Granger, and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. Yes Mr. Potter?"
Harry smirked, again, "So. Let me see if I have this right professor. According to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?"
"Ten points from Gryffindor Potter, Diggory's death was a tragic accident."
Harry looked politely incredulous. "That somehow involved a Killing Curse coming out of nowhere and hitting Cedric, after the Triwizard cup was somehow, for no apparent reason, turned into a portkey to the graveyard where Voldemort's Father lay buried? Somehow, I think not."
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for lying Mr. Potter, don't make me make it an even fifty."
Harry idly toyed with the idea of killing the hag with his lightsaber, but decided against it, and wisely shut up. Sadly, the rest of the class was not as wise, and Gryffindor lost two hundred points by the end of the class.
End FlashbackThe next morning, Harry went to breakfast very early and began layering charms down on the Slytherin table. When everyone was down at breakfast, he shot out a small, unnoticeable, spell at the table, setting off all of the charms that he had layered. Suddenly, all of the Slytherins suddenly jumped up, and as one, sang:
We're knights of the round table
We dance whene'er we're able
We do routines and chorus scenes
With footwork impeccable.
We dine well here in Camelot
We eat ham and jam and spam a lot.
We're knights of the Round Table
Our shows are formidable
But many times
We're given rhymes
That are quite unsingable
We're opera mad in Camelot
We sing from the diaphragm a lot.
In war we're tough and able.
Quite indefatigable
Between our quests
We sequin vests
And impersonate Clark Gable
It's a busy life in Camelot.
And then Malfoy stepped to the front, and sang, in a very opera style baritone,
"I Have to push the pram a LOOOOOOT!"
And with that, the charms wore off, and to say that the Slytherin table was embarrassed would have been the understatement of the decade.
Dumbledore's eye twinkle was in overdrive, and he looked about to say something when Um-bitch stood up.
"Let me assure everyone that if we find out who did this, they will be expelled!"
Dumbledore looked surprised. "Professor Umbrige, that is a little harsh of a punishment for such a harmless prank. I think that three or so detentions will do the trick."
Umbrige sat down grumbling. Not many people could hear anything of what she was saying, but Harry heard something about 'educational decrees' and 'minister approves' and 'won't be able to contradict me soon.'
Harry decided that he could safely assume that the ministry would soon begin their manipulations of Hogwarts. Or Umbrige was nuts. Or both. Probably both.
Snape was as big an asshole as ever. Starting off, he set them on one of the most complicated things he could have given them. The draught of peace. A more complicated, finicky potion Harry could not remember. Even the polyjuice potion was not quite as complex as this one, polyjuice did not require you stir one way, then the other, then the other, and so on. By the end of the lesson, Harry was praising force-meditation, as it had helped him keep all of the ingredients clear.
DADA went swimmingly. Hermione had finished the book that they were given by the end of the first week, setting off a landslide of Umbrige detentions on Harry, who seemed to be the object of all her frustration.
The day after the prank, Umbrige was appointed 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor' which put Harry in mind of the Spanish Inquisition. During the weeks that followed, educational decrees were passed, one for everything that Umbrige hated.
The first detention was hell. Harry walked into Umbrige's office and was told he would be doing lines. Harry was about to take out his quill and ink when Umbrige spoke.
"Oh no Mr. Potter, you'll be using a rather special quill of mine."
She proffered a blood red quill, and Harry took it in his left hand, thinking that if it did something to his arm, he could always get a new one.
"Now Mr. Potter, you will need no ink, and I want you to write: I must not tell lies."
"How many times?"
She smirked horribly, and said "Oh, however many times it takes for the message to… Sink In."
Harry took the quill, put it to the parchment, and began to write. Harry saw blood red ink form the words he was writing on the parchment, and took a moment to realize that the ink was actually his blood, and that the back of his left hand was being slit open each time he wrote, healing over each time he stopped writing.
Harry was very glad that he had used his left hand. If he had used his right, who knows what the ink might have been. Coolant? Be that as it may, Harry was pissed that he was being forced to torture himself. Calming himself, Harry began to write. Minutes bled into hours, and eventually Umbrige told him they had made some progress, and he could leave.
Harry walked out, glad for the impending distraction that Quiddich offered.
The next day, Harry walked out to the Quiddich pitch, Firebolt in hand, prepared to absolutely destroy the Slytherin team.
After Wood's usual pre-Quiddich pep talk, they stepped out onto the field, hearing boos and cheers from the Slytherins and everyone else, respectively.
Harry heard Lee Jordan yelling the commentation.
"And the Gryffindor team, no changes from last year, one of the best teams this school has seen in years. And here comes the Slytherin team, Beaters Derrick and Bole having been replaced by Crabbe and Goyle. Looks to me like Flint has been going for size on this team," there Lee was drowned out by boos from the Slytherin end of the stands.
Harry didn't see why they were booing though. From his perspective, everything Lee had said was true. Malfoy was easily the smallest person on the team, and Crabbe and Goyle were more miniature gorillas than humans.
Madam Hooch strode out to the middle of the Quiddich pitch carrying the case of balls.
"Captains, shake hands! Now I want a nice clean game from the both of you, and the punishments if the game is otherwise will be as harsh as it is within my power to make them."
Wood and Flint shook hands, each looking like they wanted to crush the other's hand.
Madam Hooch released the balls as the teams sped into the air, each seeker looking for a glint of gold. Apparently, Harry's demonstration on the train had only increased Malfoy's desire to see Harry's head on a platter, preferably a Slytherin crested one, as he sped by at a furious pace, yelling, "Hey Potter! You might want a mattress floating beneath you after the game, you're gonna need it." And with that not-so-subtle remark, he sped off.
Harry tuned Lee back in just in time to hear the score. "60-20 Gryffindor, Pucey with the Quaffle, stolen by Johnson, who flies down the field, THAT WAS FILTHY!"
Crabbe had just flown directly in front of Angelina and hit her with his beater's bat. Angelina fell, and the closest person to her was Harry. Well, outside of Crabbe of course, but Harry was not about to place any faith in Crabbe catching her.
Harry sped downward toward Angelina, suddenly noticing the glint of gold following her down. Harry pulled a repeat of his first match. Speeding down, Harry caught Angelina and captured the snitch in his mouth. Angelina had, thankfully, regained enough lucidity to grab hold of the broom for herself.
Holding the snitch aloft, Harry never noticed Crabbe smash his beater's bat into the back of his head until it hit him.
Harry was blown off his broom, fell twenty feet into the ground and was knocked unconscious. As such he never noticed Lee Jordan shrieking about 'slimy Slytherins' and 'fucking cheaters' which surprisingly enough, was not corrected by McGonagall, as she and Dumbledore were rushing to Harry's aid and leviating him to the hospital wing.
When McGonagall and Dumbledore got Harry to the Hospital Wing, the first thing they did was place Harry on the bed and yell for Madam Pomfrey. She came busling out to see what was wrong, and when she did, she sighed.
"Not a year goes by when I don't see that poor child in here. I should set up a room in here reserved for him. Goodness knows he would use it. What happened?"
McGonagall scowled. "Mr. Crabbe hit him in the back of the head with his beaters bat after Harry had saved Ms. Johnson from falling off her broom, AFTER Crabbe knocked her off her broom with his beaters bat. I will make sure Crabbe is banned from quiddich if it is the last thing I do."
Madam Pomfrey just looked resigned. "Well, there doesn't appear to be any outward damage, so I'll just give him a nerve repairing potion, incase Crabbe's vicious attack damaged his brain." She force fed him a potions and began magicing his clothes off to put on pajamas.
She shook her head when his quiddich robes were clean and folded in a pile. "I don't understand why he wears gloves and long boots all the time, the area is perfectly warm right now."
"He probably just picked it up over the summer Poppy, wherever he was over the summer. I-" Dumbledore was cut off here by simultaneous gasps from the transfiguration professor and the mediwitch. When Dumbledore looked down at Harry, he saw why.
"I stand corrected then. It was not something he picked up over the summer." For there, lying on the bed in nothing but his underwear, was Harry Potter, metal arm and legs fully visible.
Madam Pomfrey, ever the professional, began systematically figuring out how to take off Harry's arms and legs. When asked why, she merely said that "the poor boy should not have to sleep with those limbs on."
When she discovered how to take them off, she did so, tucking the sheet up to his chest and left, shortly followed by both professors, leaving Harry alone with the squirrel on the windowsill.
The Squirrel in question just so happened to be a reporter in legal animagus form, who had just come in time to see everyone leave. Looking around quickly, he re-emerged from his squirrel form, and began snapping pictures, noticing only his missing arm, and not the prosthetics on the side of the bed, or Harry's missing legs.
AN: Well, here is chapter two. Hope you like it. Constructive criticism is welcome, flames… well, if you're going to send me one, don't burn yourself.