CHAPTER 7: CONSPIRACY THEORIES

Location: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland.

Time Frame: December during "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire."

Jimmy O'Bannon's breaths emerged in small steamy clouds as he jogged across the rolling lawn in front of the castle. The bitter cold air forced its way through his blue sweatpants and New England Patriots sweatshirt. He'd bet most students wouldn't dream of setting foot outside, not with the frigid temperature and the sun barely up. But being born and bred in New England, O'Bannon embraced the cold, welcomed it. It energized him for the day ahead.

He veered toward the lake, thinking of today's classes. More manipulation spells with water in Charms. Countering magical stealth attacks in Defense Against The Darks Arts. Another creature that may kill or maim him in Care of Magical Creatures. Much as he liked Hagrid, he remained wary of anyone who considered dragons, Manticores and chimeras to be "misunderstood."

O'Bannon ran along the shore of the lake, then slowed his pace, eyeing the scene ahead.

Over a dozen students stood by a small thicket of trees. Even with their heavy jackets, he could tell most of them were girls. The majority grinned or chatted excitedly.

What the heck are they doing?

Another figure caught his attention, a thin young man with sallow-skin, a curved nose and thick eyebrows. The corner of O'Bannon's mouth twisted. Now he knew what drew out these girls into the cold morning air.

The Seeker of the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team. The Tri-Wizard Champion from Durmstrang. The one, the only, Viktor Krum.

Krum went through a calisthenics routine while the little knot of girls gawked or smiled. One of them even whistled.

O'Bannon grunted and kept jogging. He briefly nodded as he passed Krum, who gave a slight nod in return. O'Bannon looked over to the crowd of girls, hoping to catch a couple eyes. He may not be an international Quidditch star or a Tri-Wizard Champion, but he considered himself fairly handsome. Plus he was a hockey player. You couldn't get manlier than that.

None of that seemed to matter to the girls. They all stared past him and at Krum.

Lucky bastard. This guy could snap his fingers and take any girl at Hogwarts to the upcoming Yule Ball. He probably wasn't even sweating it. One of the advantages of fame, he guessed.

Me on the other hand . . .

O'Bannon sighed, expelling a long cloud of steamy breath. Why had he become so hesitant, so fearful, about it? He'd asked girls out before. Some of them had even said yes. But this girl . . .

He shook his head, wondering why the Sorting Hat chose him for Gryffindor. If he couldn't summon up the courage to ask out a hot girl . . .

If you don't do it, you better believe someone else will. The last thing he wanted to do was stand around at the Yule Ball kicking himself and wondering what might have been.

Just do it, man. Just grow a pair, walk up to her and –

"Good morning, Jimmy."

The silky French accent froze him in his tracks. He looked up. Both his mouth and eyes widened at the sight before him.

Mireet Miradeaux stood a few feet away in a silver one-piece bathing suit that looked like it had been painted on her. A swimming cap covered her head. She smiled as she grabbed a towel hanging from the branch of the tree next to her.

"Uhh . . . uhh . . ."

Say "good morning," numbnuts.

"Uhh . . . mu-morning." His eyes swept over the curves of her body, then down her firm legs. Merlin's friggin' snowy white long-ass beard she had incredible legs!

"Uh, what . . . what are you doing?" He groaned at the stupid question. What, the bathing suit and swim cap aren't dead giveaways, moron?

"I swim every morning." She toweled herself down, still smiling at him. "I find it very invigorating."

"Isn't it a little cold for that?"

"I simply cast charms over part of the lake to warm the water to make it tolerable."

"Uh-huh." O'Bannon again scanned her legs. He then pressed his own legs together, hoping his sweatpants were loose enough to hide his . . . admiration for Mireet.

"So I guess you do not mind this cold." Mireet ran the towel down her left leg.

"Uhh . . . no, I'm cool with it. Typical New England weather for me. I mean, minus the snow."

"I see." She reached for her robes hanging from the branch and started putting them on.

O'Bannon watched in awestruck silence. How could anyone be this beautiful? More than beautiful. She was intoxicating.

And you're thinking of asking her to the Yule Ball?

Why not? He got along great with Mireet. She was nice and smart and didn't walk around with the haughty air as some of her Beauxbatons classmates. He knew they would have a great time at the ball. Maybe even beyond it.

But what if someone already asked her and she said yes? What if she has a boyfriend back in France?

"So, hockey practice is at four today?"

"Huh?" Mireet's question shook him out of his worried state of mind. "Oh. Um, yeah. Four o'clock."

"I'm looking forward to it. I believe things are looking quite well for us."

"Yeah. Me too."

They stared at each other for several seconds without a word.

"Well . . ." Mireet bit her lower lip for a moment. "I will see you at breakfast."

"Yeah. See you there."

Mireet gave him a smile and started to turn.

Dude, ask her!

"Uh, Mireet?"

"Oui?" She spun around to face him.

O'Bannon sucked down a long breath of cold air. "I was . . . would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Surprise flared across Mireet's face. She stared at him unblinking.

Every muscle in O'Bannon's body tensed. He imagined all sorts of responses.

I'm sorry, Jimmy. Someone already asked me.

I'm sorry, Jimmy. I just consider you a friend.

I'm sorry, Jimmy. You're not in my league.

"I would love to go to the ball with you."

O'Bannon's heart went into overdrive. He couldn't breathe. She said . . . Oh my God, she said yes.

SHE SAID YES!!!

"That's . . . that's, um, great." A huge smile broke out on his face.

"Thank you for asking me." Mireet strode over to him.

He drowned in elation as the French witch hugged him and kissed him gently on each cheek. O'Bannon hugged her back, still trying to accept his fact that the hottest witch in France was going to the Yule Ball with him!

Wicked friggin' pissah!

A loud ringing split the air. Mireet and the lake suddenly vanished. O'Bannon found himself lying on his stomach. He pushed up on his elbows and snapped his head in all directions. He spotted three other beds, each one occupied by a redheaded young man.

O'Bannon sighed and dropped his head back into the pillow. Just a dream. A memory really, from two years ago.

He shook his head. Two years and he still couldn't stop thinking about Mireet Miradeaux. What the friggin' hell was wrong with him? He had a girlfriend. He'd been with other women since Mireet. How could he dream about her? About that day?

Fleur. It has to be her. Having another witch from Beauxbatons here must have triggered something in his brain. He shouldn't read a whole lot into it. He had moved on with his life, and so undoubtedly had Mireet. She probably had a boyfriend back in France.

He grimaced at the thought.

"Oy!" Fred hollered. "Turn that bloody thing off!"

O'Bannon blinked. He realized the alarm clock on the nightstand still rang.

"George!"

"You turn it off, Fred. I'm too tired."

"Too tired to shut off a bloody clock? Next thing you know you'll want me to put on your socks and wipe your runny nose for you."

"Oh, could you? Because that requires much too much effort on my part."

"Git!"

"Wanker!"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Bill jabbed his wand at the alarm clock. It instantly went silent.

"There! Was that so bloody difficult?"

"Actually, it was." Fred smiled at his oldest brother. "Thanks, Bill."

Bill shook his head and grumbled as he flung the covers off himself.

"So this is what it's like having brothers." O'Bannon rubbed his face and sat up. "What fun."

"Yes, and the fun never ends, Jimmy Boy." Fred grinned at him.

O'Bannon grunted at him and slowly slid out of his cot.

Half-an-hour later he tramped down the stairs with Fred, George and Bill and headed into the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had already sat down to eat, along with Lupin, Harry, Ron, Jared and Artimus. The four boys were in the middle of a rather animated discussion about Quidditch.

"You think your Chudley Cannons are bad, Ron?" Jared said. "You should check out the Chicago Celestials. They haven't won a championship in a hundred-forty years. They even have the longest losing streak in USQA history. Fifty-five in a row."

"Chudley lost sixty in a row in one stretch."

"Yeah, that's something to brag about." O'Bannon slapped Ron on the shoulder before taking a seat between Artimus and Bill. He looked up and down the table, which was covered with nearly every sort of breakfast food he could imagine. Heck, what Mrs. Weasley put out could rival any spread at Salem or Hogwarts. He grabbed everything within reach and dug in.

O'Bannon cleared off half his plate when the girls arrived. First Ginny, whose red hair looked wavier and bouncier than normal.

"What did you do to your hair?" Ron asked while chewing on a mouthful of bacon.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley glared at him. "Swallow your food before you talk."

Ron frowned as Ginny answered. "Rosa helped do my hair."

"Rosa?" Jared shot Ginny a bewildered look. "My cousin Rosa?"

"Yes." She gave her hair a gentle pat. "Did a right good job of it, too."

Jared scrunched up his face and looked to O'Bannon and Artimus. "We may want to check and see if that really is Rosa. When the heck does she ever do anything that girly?"

"When you're not around, obviously." Ginny shot Jared a wry grin.

O'Bannon caught a glimpse of Harry. He sat frozen, except for his eyes, which followed Ginny as she walked round the table and took a seat across from Bill.

Before he could dwell on Harry's reaction, a throaty voice cut through the air.

"Eet is obvious you need 'elp weeth your Styling Charms. But do not worry. I can feex Zshinny's 'air."

Ginny scowled as Fleur Delacour entered the kitchen, with a tight-faced Rosa Infante next to her.

"Ginny's hair doesn't need fixing. It's fine."

"Eet could be zo much better. Zo can your 'air. Zere ees no vibrancy to eet."

"I like my hair fine the way it is, thank you very much." Rosa spoke through clenched teeth. An air of tension surrounded her. O'Bannon felt it took all of Rosa's self-control to keep from hexing Fleur.

Or just belting her.

Rosa loudly pulled out her chair and sat next to Ginny. Both girls exchanged exasperated looks as Fleur floated around the kitchen wishing everyone good morning. She slipped into the chair next to Bill and kissed him numerous times on the cheek. Ginny gripped her glass of pumpkin juice so tightly her hand shook. Rosa just rolled her eyes.

"Um, just for the record, Rosa. I think your hair looks marvelous." George waggled his eyebrows at her. Fleur turned to him, her face crinkling as if someone stuck a small turd under her nose.

Rosa's sour look instantly vanished. She aimed an appreciative grin George's way. "Thanks."

"What about my hair?" Ginny piped up.

"Eh. It's all right, I guess."

"Oh, go suck a dragon's -"

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley's head trembled with anger as she glared at her daughter.

"I was going to say, um . . . eggs. A dragon's eggs."

Mrs. Weasley didn't look convinced, but went back to eating her oatmeal.

Ginny sneered at her brother. Rosa turned her head and put a hand over her mouth, silently chuckling.

Much like dinner last night, breakfast at the Burrow was a very boisterous affair. At any given time three or four different conversations took place. Artimus listened in fascination to Bill's curse-breaking exploits working for Gringotts' Egyptian branch. Ginny, Ron and Jared debated who would win a game between the Portsmouth Contrails and the Atlanta Archers, the champions of their respective country's major Quidditch leagues. George and Rosa chatted away to the extent they ignored everyone else at the table. Harry gave O'Bannon a rundown of Professor Slughorn's Christmas party, with Fred providing his own brand of color commentary.

"Yeah, he meets Gwenog Jones there and doesn't even get her autograph . . . Didn't Luna give you a garlic necklace to keep that vampire Eldred Worple from biting you . . . speaking of Luna and biting, did she give you a little love bite after the party, Harry?"

"We just went as friends." Harry's words flew from his mouth.

Fred threw up his hands in surrender. O'Bannon, meanwhile, tried to visualize Harry and Luna as a couple. The idea proved too far-fetched for him.

Once they all finished eating, the lively and enjoyable conversations ceased. The time had come to get down to business, protecting the people of Britain from the terrifying threat of the Chupacabra.

Lupin stood at the head of the table and handed out their assignments. Mr. Weasley would check any reports at the Ministry pertaining to missing or dead farm animals. Fred and George would round up the necessary ingredients for a Pest Elimination Potion. Rosa volunteered to help the twins, but Lupin wanted her and Artimus to help him search the woods around some of the larger farmlands in Wizarding Britain for any sign of Chupacabra nests. She frowned at that.

As for O'Bannon, he got teamed with Bill and Jared to visit Wizarding residents living in more rural areas, warn them about the Chupacabra and help them set up wards against the pests.

Harry, Ron and Ginny also expressed a desire to help, but Mrs. Weasley would hear nothing of it.

"None of you are in the Order, so forget it . . . I don't care if this Chupacabra prefers goats to people, Ron. This is Order business, and Order business is inherently dangerous."

As everyone left the table, Ron nudged O'Bannon and whispered. "You'll tell me if anything exciting happens out there today, right?"

O'Bannon shrugged. "Ron, we're dealing with Chupacabra. Believe me, nothing exciting is gonna happen."

Mrs. Weasley gave everyone hugs and pecks on the cheeks before they headed out.

"Bye, George." Rosa gave him a small wave.

"I might be home late. So please, wait up for me."

With a parting grin, George stepped into the green flames of the fireplace with Fred and Flooed to Diagon Alley. Rosa stared at the fireplace for several seconds and let out a long sigh.

Fleur's farewell to Bill was less subtle. The former Tri-Wizard Champion leaped on her fiancé and showered his face with kisses.

"Take care my brave, brave Beel. I love you. Please be careful. I worry zo much when you . . ."

"All right, now. Bill has important work to do." Mrs. Weasley marched up to them. "Time for him to be on his way."

Reluctantly, Fleur released Bill. O'Bannon could hear Ginny grumble under her breath, "Somebody feed me to a dragon if I ever act like that with a guy."

He followed Bill and Jared outside, where they mounted their brooms.

"Where to first?" asked Jared.

"We'll start with the homes around here, then work our way north." Bill grinned as he gazed at the two Americans. "I'm sure you'll find our first visit, well, interesting."

XXXXX

"I just don't understand how you can deny it when the evidence is there for all to see. Chupacabra are obviously the result of cross-breeding long ago between vampires and reptoids."

O'Bannon closed his eyes, gripping his wand tight and resisting the urge to use a Reductor Curse on the owner of the voice. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and turned to the wizard next to him, a smiling, crossed-eyed, middle-aged man with stringy white hair that fell to his shoulders.

"Um, Mister Lovegood." He kept his voice as even as possible while addressing Xenophilius Lovegood, owner of the wizarding tabloid The Quibbler. "Your, um, theory on Chupacabra is . . . fascinating. But I really need to concentrate to set up these new wards around your house."

The last word made him glance at Mr. Lovegood's "house." It was actually a tall, black cylinder that reminded O'Bannon of a rook someone had removed from a chess board and enlarged to ridiculous proportions.

"Oh yes, yes. My apologies. Still, you must admit the Chupacabra have some features similar to vampires and reptoids. The lust for blood alone is proof enough of cross-breeding. And the fact that you Americans hunt them down like common pests . . . oh sorry, I should rephrase that. I believe most Americans are decent enough folk, but the policies of your Department of Magic in regards to the Chupacabra . . ."

"Daddy, please," a dreamy voice floated over them.

O'Bannon peered around Mr. Lovegood. A thin girl with large silvery eyes and long dirty blonde hair sauntered over to them.

"Jimmy is very busy right now," Luna Lovegood told her father. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to convince him of the true origins of the Chupacabra once he's done."

"Yes, you're right, my little moonbeam." Mr. Lovegood patted his daughter on the head. "My apologies, Mister O'Bannon. I'll let you get back to your work. But we'll talk later."

"Looking forward to it." O'Bannon forced the words out of his mouth as Mr. Lovegood strolled away, humming some made up tune.

Jeez, no wonder Luna turned out the way she did.

He started to turn when he noticed Luna staring at him with those enormous, unblinking eyes of hers.

"Um . . . thanks for the save, Luna."

"You're quite welcome. My father does get carried away sometimes, but he means well. Chupacabra have been treated unfairly throughout North and South America."

"Uh-huh." O'Bannon raised his wand and prepared to cast another ward.

"Perhaps that's why You-Know-Who is using them. Maybe he promised them their lot in life would improve if he won. Perhaps he promised them they could take revenge on the wizards and witches who mistreated them over the centuries."

"Considering the average Chupacabra is about as smart as a hamster, I sincerely doubt You-Know-Who convinced them of anything."

"I wouldn't be too quick to judge, Jimmy. Studies have shown many creatures we thought to be, well, lacking intellect, actually have a much higher level of consciousness than we give them credit for. Dragons and reptoids are just a few examples." Luna turned her head and stared at the distant hills in silence.

O'Bannon sighed in relief. Thank God she's done. He whipped his wand around and chanted the proper incantations. After about five minutes he finished casting his assigned wards. He turned around and nearly bumped into Luna, who now stared at him.

"I've been thinking," she said.

The corners of his mouth twitched. That's always dangerous.

"Higher consciousness or not, from what I've read about them, the Chupacabra aren't all that vicious toward people. So why would You-Know-Who go through the trouble of bringing them all the way from America to Britain?"

O'Bannon shrugged. "To kill farm animals. Frighten people. That's what Rosa's mom said."

"There are plenty of other animals native to Europe he could use for that, like skargorogs or lichwivs. And they are more prone to attack people than Chupacabra. So why would You-Know-Who use them?" Luna fell silent, looking like she'd just gone into a trance.

O'Bannon shifted from one foot to the other. Had she finished? Maybe he should –

"Unless there's a more sinister purpose for bringing these creatures to Britain. Oh well, it's something to think about."

With that, Luna turned and skipped away.

O'Bannon watched her depart, shaking his head. As if her father blathering on about his wacko theories on the origins of Chupacabra wasn't bad enough, now Luna had concocted a whole conspiracy theory around their presence in this country.

A more sinister purpose? With Chupacabra? What sinister things can anyone do with Chupacabra?

He groaned and started walking toward the other side of the house to see if Jared and Bill had finished casting their wards. Luna Lovegood. Yeah, she seemed nice enough, and certainly didn't deserve the crap jagoffs like Draco Malfoy dished out to her. But with all her kookball theories, from nargles to Cornelius Fudge baking goblins into pies, how could anyone take anything she said seriously? If Luna had been a Muggle, she'd probably run off to join those groups who believed the lunar landings were faked and President Kennedy was assassinated by some cabal made up of the CIA, FBI, mafia, Fidel Castro, Frank Sinatra, the New York Yankees and the Boy Scouts.

"Unless there's a more sinister purpose for bringing these creatures to Britain."

Luna's words niggled the back of his mind. He stopped and slapped his head a couple times. Dude, this is Luna we're talking about here. You know, Miss Nargles-Are-Real.

Then he recalled the night he talked to her outside the Ravenclaw Common Room, when she helped him make peace with himself over that shameful incident back in Muggle elementary school when he bullied poor Timmy Warren. She said a lot of things back then that had made sense.

Why not now?

"Oh c'mon, O'Bannon," he muttered to himself. "Next thing you know you'll be wearing a puck around your neck to kept away wrackspurts."

He chuckled briefly and headed off to find Jared and Bill.

TO BE CONTINUED

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Jimmy O'Bannon's references to Timmy Warren and hockey pucks warding off wrackspurts were mentioned in my fanfic "The Luna Effect." The reptoids were mentioned in my fanfic "Dark Horizon." I based these creatures on real-world reports of the lizard man that is alleged to inhabit the American States of North Carolina and South Carolina.