A/N: Here we are with another update to this fic. finally, right? it's been, what, three months since I updated? I know, I feel like an asshole, but I was recently fired from my job as a minor columnist for a local newspaper...apparently, the people don't need my amusing little quips and quotes and whatever else I could get away with putting in there. Oh, well. Anyway, I was stuck for awhile with no internet and looking for jobs. One bright spot in that mess, though, was that my best friend had his first child...and he named me Godpapa! Yay! Nolan Gael Vincent (that's my godson's name), was born October 7, 2011 at precisely 5:33 a.m. He weighed seven pounds, two ounces and measured nineteen inches and some change in length. Everybody do the Happy Dance with me!
Anyway, this chapter will pretty much cover the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students and the Samhain Celebration Feast, as well as a special appearance by 'Alastor Moody.' And a reviewer gave me a little tip, which I shall take and use graciously. From now on, I'll be giving the reviewer replies at the bottom so nobody has to deal with scrolling down while hating my guts for making them spin their little wheelie-dealy thing on the mouse (seriously, that action burns a tenth of an eight of a freakin' calorie...). But at least they were nice about it, so I'll be nice about it, too. Anyway, on with the fic.
Disclaimer: Don't own shit.
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Chapter 8: No Kind of Party Like a Potter Party
23 October, 2003
Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Somewhere in Northern Scotland
"Alright, you lot! Sit down and shut your noise holes!"
the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth-years couldn't have fallen silent faster than if they'd had a Cone of Silence dropped on them; Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody had that effect on people. His grizzly appearance gave even the most vicious Dark wizards pause during his lifetime, and his no-nonsense aura was more than enough to frighten a classroom full of schoolchildren quite handily.
Harry could learn much from such a badass.
"Now, listen up," Mad-Eye growled. "Because of some interference by the school board, this lesson had been witheld until now, but I finally have permission to teach it to fourth- and fifth-year students."
His magical eye spun wildly in its socket, dancing from one face to the next as he pulled out a jar containing a large chimaera spider, which looked like an odd combination of tarantula, scorpion, and black widow.
"Say hello to your test subject." Weasley whimpered pitifully a few rows behind Harry as Moody coaxed the arachnid onto his desk. "Now, to the lesson. The Unforgivable Curses. Who's got one for me?"
Hermione Granger's hand went up instantly, and Daphne, who was sitting beside Harry snorted and rolled her eyes. Surprisingly, ron Weasley also raised his hand, as well as a few others.
"You, lad," Moody called."
"Ron Weasley, sir," the ginger-haired boy said respectfully. "There's the Imperius curse."
"Weasley, eh? You father helped me out a few months back," Moody commented as he nodded approvingly. "Yes, he'd know all about that curse...gave the Ministry quite a bit of trouble back in the day." His wand was out in a flash, and Harry doubted that even he could outdraw the ex-Auror.
Moody aimed at the spider and muttered, "Imperio." the spider stiffened visibly before seemingly melting into a puddle of legs. Soon, though, it hopped into the air and began tap-dancing across the students' tables. Harry was treated to the amusing sight of Ron turning Slytherin-green as the spider piroetted in front of him.
The other students started laughing heartily as the spider continued its dance around the room, but Harry narrowed his eyes. Just what in the hell was Mad-Eye playing at, treating such a dangerous spell as a toy? Daphne and Finnegan were also suspiciously silent.
"Think it's funny, eh?" Moody asked with false mirth in his voice as the spider flew around. "What shall I have her do next? Drown herself?" The spider was suddenly at the edge of a bucket near an open window. "Throw herself from the tower?"
The students weren't so happy now, and Harry had to hand it to the man: He certainly knew how to drive a point home. "The Imperius curse gives a witch or wizard complete control over another life. You can have them kill themselves, or others as easily as thinking about itt. That's one of the reasons you'll get a life sentence in Azkaban for using it on another human. Anyone else? You!"
He pointed at the timid Neville Longbottom, who looked as though he'd rather sink into the floor than answer. "Th-the Cruciatus," he mumbled, focusing intently on his intertwined fingers.
Moody gazed at Neville for a moment with both eyes before saying, "Your name's Longbottom, is it?" The boy nodded, and Mad-Eye didn't press him further.
Instead, he pointed his wand at the spider, which was now on his desk again. "Crucio!" The spider's legs curled up and it began twitching madly, squealing in its high spidery voice in what Harry was certain was pain; he'd felt that curse's power first-hand, and felt intense pity for the poor creature.
After about twenty seconds, Moody let up on the curse, and Harry glanced at Neville whose face was whiter than a sheet, and his clenched hands were trembling frightfully. Another pang of pity and empathy surged through the Head of House Potter.
"The Cruciatus curse is the most savage of the three," Moody lectured as he paced in front of the dead-silent class. "Everyone feels it differently, but it is guaranteed to cause pain the likes of which you will never forget as long as you live. Hold it for ten seconds and the victim will shake for about an hour. Twenty seconds and they fall into unconsciousness. Hold it for longer than a minute straight, and they'll either die or go insane from the stress that the pain inflicts upon the psyche. It's no wonder why it's labelled an Unforgivable, eh?"
He stopped his pacing, and stared each one of them in the face with both eyes, making certain they were all giving him their full attention, finally settling on Harry, who stared back unflinchingly, knowing what was coming next.
"Then there's the last one." Keeping his good eye on Harry, Moody pointed his wand backwards and growled, "Avada Kedavra." The thin streamer of green light struck the spider, which promptly keeled over, deader than a doornail.
"The Killing curse is the epitome of the Unforgivables. It is single-minded magic, a spell designed for only one purpose. It steals life away, leaving no mark, and is normally unblockable. A solid shield will stop it, but any other defensive magic is useless against it. The only person ever to survive the Killing curse is sitting right in this classroom."
Harry felt everyone's eyes drawn to him as though he were a magnnet.
After milking the moment for all it was worth, Mad-Eye cleared his throat. "And now that you've all seen what the Unforgivable Curses are capable of, we'll be testing your willpower."
Something about that didn't sit quite right with Harry.
Suddenly, Dumbledore stepped out from a corner, where he'd previously gone entirely unnoticed. "Good afternoon, students," he said genially, eyes twinkling. "The school board has asked me to supervise this little exercise."
Mad-Eye grinned maliciously. "Don't want any 'accidents,' eh, Albus?" he snorted. He turned to the class. "I've been given permission to cast the Imperius curse upone each one of you, so that you know what it feels like to be utterly powerless."
There was a scattering of uneasy murmurs to answer Moody's statement. Daphne glanced at Harry with a slightly panicked gleam in her eye.
"He can't do that, can he?" she hissed at him.
Harry nodded grimly. "If he's gotten permission, then yeah." The Imperius was a tricky devil, but Harry knew for a fact that he could beat it. He'd almost killed Sirius once when it was applied to him by one of their targets, but he'd overcome it just in time to stop himself.
The panic in Daphne's expression quickly evolved into outright horror. Harry placed a calming hand on her shoulder discreetly and asked, "What's wrong, Daph?"
She glanced around, then lowered her voice. "Before the war was over," she whispered frantically, "my uncle had been a Death Eater, and he and my father had faced each other in several battles. My uncle and a few others managed to get past the wards on Greengrass Meadows, placed the Imperius on my mother, and had her kill my father. The Imperius is the reason my father is dead..."
Harry's grip tightened a bit on Daphne's shoulder, causing her to focus on him. He looked surprisingly somber compared to almost every other time she'd seen him, and his eyes shone with sadness, but also fierce anger. "Listen. You can beat this curse. Imperio works to bend the target's will to the caster's orders, but if you can sharpen your determination to a point, there's a good chance that you'll be able to punch a hole through the magic and tear free."
Daphne gulped and nodded, still staring at this new side of Harry Potter in something akin to awed gratefulness. Thens she shook the cobwebs from her mind and focused on doing as he told her.
Moody went through the students at a time, barking the incantation of the Imperius curse and commanding them to do cartwheels and flips around the classroom. Daphne was called, and she watched as Moody's wand descended, his lips moving to form the the proper enunciation.
"Imperio!"
An intense feeling of disconnect shrouded Daphne's mind like a warm blanket. It felt...different from what she'd been expecting. A voice floated through her head: Hop on the desk and do a backflip.
She felt her body reacting to the command, and remembered what harry had told her. Sharpen your determination. Her hands trembled as she tried to overcome Moody's curse, and she almost threw off his control as she stood on the desk. Then again, 'almost' only counts with horseshoes and hand-grenades.
Daphne's legs bent as she prepared to perform the reverse somersault, but her fight against Moody's control botched her acrobatic attempt, and she would've cracked her head on the stone floor if Harry hadn't conjured a memory-foam pad beneath her. Instead, she landed with a muffled thud.
He went to help her up. "Are you alright, Daph?" he whispered, concern lacing his voice as he crouched next to her.
"I-I couldn't do it," she mumbled, her voice halfway between anger and disappointment.
"Almost broke the spell," Moody growled, sounding very much impressed. "You've got an iron will, lass. Keep it up, and I might just give you a recommendation into the Auror corps." Then he looked back to the list in his hand and said, "Now, last up is you, Potter."
Harry stood up and crossed his arms. "Do your worst, Professor."
"Imperio!"
Harry allowed the sensation to worm its way into his consciousness, then trapped it there and squished it to smithereens against his Occlumency barrier like a mosquito against a windshield going eighty in a twenty-five zone.
"Now," Moody was saying, "why don't you tell me how much you love me, eh, Potter? Tell me I'm beautiful and that you want to snog the daylights out of me."
Deciding to have a bit of fun, he walked right up to the Mood, smiled his most shit-eating grin into the ex-Auror's scarred face, and said, quite clearly, "Fuck you and the fake leg you stumped in on, Professor."
The rest of the class sucked in a startled gasp, and Harry took a mental picture of Moody's gobsmacked expression.
Mad-Eye quickly got over his shock and started laughing out loud, which, in his rough voice, sounded like rocks in a blender. "You've got balls of steel, Potter! Just like your old man. And you broke the curse without me even noticing! Two points to...what house are you in today?"
"Hufflepuff," Harry answered glibly. He felt he'd accomplished something; the most points Moody had ever given anyone at once so far was one and a half to Cedric Diggory, who'd retrieved his false eye after it had spun right out of its socket during lunch a few days ago.
Right, two points to Hufflepuff." He turned to the class. "At this part of the demonstration, I was gonna cast the Imperius on Dumbledore and request that he murder the entire class..."
"...at which pointe, I would have sang you all a showtune," finished Dumbledore with a smile, "to show you that a powerful enough, or strong-welled enough magician can resist the Imperius curse, although harry seems to have demonstrated this quite qell. You must watch your language in the future, though, Mr. potter."
Harry simply smiled smugly.
After classes for the day were over, Harry and Daphne sat with their backs leaning up against an ancient oak tree, looking ou t over the lake. The cooling autumn air was crisp, and the early evening light was making Harry feel quite content.
If only Daphne would just let up...
"Seriously, Harry," she was saying. "Just give me a hint..."
Goaning, Harry forced his eyes open and gave her a sidelong glance of slight annoyance. "I've given you plenty of hints," he pointed out. "really, it's not that difficult."
This had been an ongoing discussion since Daphne discovered that Harry could fly without the use of a broom or other means of magical transport. She simply couldn't manage to wrap her mind around the way he was able to accomplish such a feat.
"Is there a spell, or maybe a potion? Some sort of enchanted garment?" Daphne wondered aloud, and Harry rolled his eyes.
"There's not some great magical secret to flight," Harry aid, and Daphne shut up, giving her attention to him. In her mind, she did a little celebratory dance at having broken him down. "It's just a skill...well, more of a knack, really."
"And what would this knack pertain to?"
"Well, in order to fly, you simply need to have a knack at being able to throw yourself at the ground and...er...miss," Harry finished a bit lamely. Daphne stared at him, mouth hanging open a bit. Her confused face were really quite endearing, Harry thought.
"Excuse me?" Daphne asked, wondering if she'd misheard him, or somehowe misinterpreted his words.
"You need to throw yourself at the ground and miss," Harry reiterated. "The best way to do it is when you're a split-second away from hitting the ground and distracting yourslef so completely that you just forget to fall. Then, after your initial flight, it gets easier to get up into the air."
Harry smiled reminiscently. "I remember the first time I did it. I was in Manhattan, and me and Paddie were trailing this idiot who had, like, fifteen-thousand galleons worth of unpaid carpet parking tickets. During the chase, I tripped on a bum and took a header right down into a subway station. Just before I landed, I turned to my right and saw the most absurd thing I've ever seen in my life, and I just...well, I forgot to fall. Scared the living daylights out of that midget and the transvestite giving him an old-fashioned when I floated by them."
He turned to look at Daphne, who by then was trying to fight back the throbbing headache casued by Harry's riddiculously insane logic. "You okay?"
"Fine," she said, vowing to herself never to ask Harry how he did anything ever again. "Just fine."
"Bloody hell, Harry!" exclaimed ron Weasley, the twins' younger brother, and the youngest male Weasley. "Is that what I think it is?" He was indicating the fifty-yard-long hide that stretched all along the inner wall of the basilisk chamber.
With the incentive of the several pints of venom and a few feet of skin, Harry had bribed Professor Snape into helping him harvest the basilisk's corpse of any useable materials. Then, he'd set about fixing up the Chamber of Secrets to his own liking. If he was to spend the next three years in this castle, he might as well have a place to cal his own.
At the moment, all of the fourth-year Gryffindors were being given a tour of the newly redubbed Chamber of Awesome. The carvings of the pillars had been Transfigured into a multitude of different animals, and some clever runework animated them so that the large columns abounded with fantastical creatures. The statue of Salazar Slytherin was now a large, raised dais, upon wh ich rested a massive hot tub that could hold twenty people comfortably, and twenty-six uncomfortably.
Again, the hot tub had been outfitted with runic arrays that included heating and cheering rnes, several that created various scents, some on the bottom and sides of the tub that created jets of water. In short, it could do anything short of travel through time, and Harry was working on that.
Then there was the large block of stone that stood where Harry had destroyed the Horcrux.
Despite the various rituals and wards that Dumbledore had tried, the spot remained tainted by the evil magic within the diary.
Harry sighed at the thought. Stupid Draco. During the interrogation conducted by Dumbledore and witnessed by himself and the heads of houses, the young Malfoy scion had confessed to sneaking around in his father's secret room hidden in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. It was there that he found the cursed object, and began reading and learning from the young man in the journal.
The last time he'd seen Draco, at breakfast this morning, he'd been sporting a large bandage across his forehead that Harry was almost sure was the elder Malfoy's doing. In a way, Harry felt a bit sorry for the poor bastard after meeting with Lucius and seeing what a gaping asshole he was, but for now, there was nothing he could do about it. Draco would either have to man up or stand down.
"Hey, Harry, what's that?" Dean Thomas asked, pointing to the wall to their right and drawing Harry from his thoughts. Unlike the light stone the other walls were made of, this one was smooth and dark green in color.
"That's the best part of this place," Harry replied. He went over to a cluster of runes on the floor near the wall and cast an activating spell on it. Instantly, lights switched on around the wall and marine creatures darted away in surprise.
"Not a wall, a window," said Hermione Granger. Harry found her intelligence rather refreshing in the Gryffindor Common Room, where that particular trait was a bit lacking. Especially in Ron's case. "Harry is that the lake?"
"Harry grinned. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Pretty damn cool, huh? And check this out." He raised his wand and Summoned the projector screen from the top of the wall, then hooked the edge into place in a groove set into the floor. Then, in another swish, the projector turned on, and a movie started playing. The magical children were awed by the feat.
"How is that projector working?" Hermione asked, inspecting the device. "I thought the electronics were jammed by the magic that permeates Hogwarts?"
"Well, if you look here," Harry said, pointing out his leaching runic array, "these runes siphon off the ambient magic that surrounds the machine, and these ones convert the magic into electricity, which then charges the runic batery."
Hermione looked genuinely intrigued and continued to ask Harry questions about his unique runic designs all through the movie, while the rest of the fourth-years were entranced by the movie. After it was done, Harry showed them back to the entrance, where he Animated the staircase and ferried them back to Myrtle's bathroom while they muttered about how they'd 'really underestimated the Muggles these days.'
Harry went back to the antechamber and headed intno the tunnel that led to the private chambers. As he'd learned a few days ago, they had belonged to none other than Slytherin himself. A door with a painting hanging from it halted his progress, and he bowed to the portrait.
"Hello, Salazar," he said respectfully. "How are you today?"
The man in the painting was not the man Harry had once pictured in his mind when the name Salazar Slytherin came up. In fact, he'd always thought the founder of the Snake House would look a bit like Snape. Instead, the portrait depicted a tanned, dark-haird man with rugged features and neatly trimmed moustache.
"Quite well, Potter. It seems as though you saved the Gryffindors for last in your list of people to see your Chamber of...what did you call it? 'Awesome?'" The portrait scoffed. "No matter. What would you like to learn today?"
Since he'd discovered the painting and the rooms behind it, Harry had been learning various magicks that had long since been forgotten to the world. He was delighted by the fact that he was now training to become the first European shaman in over five centuries under the last English one himself.
Also on the training sheet were some seriously nasty spells that were quite popular in Salazar's time. It gave Harry an entirely different scope on the term 'going medieval on your ass.' Slytherin was also a highly accomplished swordmaster as well, and he showed Harry proper technique when dual-wielding. But the best thing about having Slytherin as a teacher wasn't the shamanism, the Dark-Age spells, the advanced sword training, or even the Parselmouth magic. No, it was the fact that the original Salazar had been an Illumage, a wizard with a magical core of the light nature, just like Harry.
After choosing something for Salazar to teach him that day, Harry went into the chambers, which he'd also given his personal touch. Much of th furniture and color-coding he'd left alone, except for the silver, which he'd turned black. Silver never really looked good on him.
The portrait opened into a large, spacious sitting room with a big fireplace on the far wall and a flat-screen telly he'd discreetly purchased in London during the most recent Hogsmeade trip sitting on the mantle. Surrounding the fireplace was a complete entertainment center that included pretty much every single game system on the planet, with movies, albums, and games galore. And thanks to a lucky discovery in an extremely random book he'd found in the Magical New York City Library, he now had a charm which could get a signal from a DirecTV satellite anywhere in the world. For free.
The flames from the fireplace warmed a massive black suede sectional couch that stretched out in front of a stained-oak coffee table, and several matching chairs resided nearby. One of the walls had been covered had been covered in shelves and stocked with books from Salazar's personal library in the training area.
One of Harry's favorite parts of this room was the bar he'd found the first time he'd come into the chambers. After stocking it with his favorite drinks, he'd learned quite by accident that the shelves had been enchanted to refill the bottles automatically, so he never had to buy any drinks ever again.
There were two doors that led away from the sitting room. One was a bathroom with a humongous, pool sized bathtub that had dozens of taps that filled it with different bubbles and scented water (a brilliant piece of runic know-how, in Harry's opinion). The other led to the bedroom, which had a bed bigger than the entire fourth-year boy's dormitory that had different runic settings that could put one to sleep, wake one up at a certain time, or set the mood for some...ahem...nice happy time. He had fun the first time he saw it, using a charm on the mattress that converted it into a trampoline before doing some mad ninja flips on it.
Harry grabbed a couple of books and left the sitting room. He didn't have to look back at the portrait to know that Salazar wasn't there. After turning down the last tunnel into the antechamber, Harry slowly felt the floor slope upward.
"Do you have the books?"
Harry turned his head and saw Salazar loping along with his bobing stride in a scenic Scottish forest. The painting he was in stretched almost the entire length of the tunnel. Slytherin said his real-life counterpart had commissioned it so that his paint-self could have a place to stretch his legs.
"Yup," Harry said, showing him the texts under his arm. "I'm pretty excited about today's session. Taming is what every shaman should know how to do."
Slytherin nodded. "Indeed it is, my young pupil. I shall lecture you upon the basics of Beast Taming while we walk." They continued along in silence while Salazar gathered his thoughts. "As I have told you before, a shaman's power comes not from within, as with most magic-wielders, but from the spirits in the world around them. When you control the spirits of objects, many of them are either non-living, dead, or pure."
"Beast gtaming, however, is the controlling of the fully-alive spirit of an animal, not dissimliar from the Imperius curse. The shaman envelopse the spirit with his magic and bends it to their will. The process is much more difficult than taking charge of a non-living or dead object, but infinitely less complicated than enveloping a pure spirit."
"So what, exactly is a pure spirit?" Harry asked. He'd already managed to control the movements of a rock that weighed half a ton without a bit of drain on his magic. He could also manipulate most flora (except for thyme for some odd reason), as well as impose his will upon corpses and have them do his bidding. This meant, on top of all his other talents, he was a budding necromancer.
"Well, since you are trained as an alchemist, you would know the spirit as a soul. It is the very essence of every object, element, and creature ont hsi planet. the spirit of an object or creature is tainted by earthly energies of whatever vessel it resides in. This means that even a Muggle can call forth and command that spirit, if they are so trained to do.
"Pure spirits, on the other hand, roam the universe freely. To puut them in the plainest words absolutely possible, they are a concentration of unfathomable amounts of energy that only a shaman can learn to control. These pure spirits come in a variety of species. You may not know this, but the Wicca that you studied actually stemmed from shamanism."
"What? How the hell are those two branches of magic related?" Harry asked, trying to figure it out even as he questioned his master.
"In the time before the great Empires of this world, before even King Gilgamesh of Mesopotamia, a group of shamans, whose number was equal to that of the species of spririts, decided to try channeling the spirits through their bodies by forcing a call to them through the very fabric of reality. This brought all but six spirits to them, and the ritual the shamans devise pushed them into the bodies of the humans."
"So that's it?"
"No, of course it isn't," Salazar snapped, glaring at him for interrupting. "The spirits' energy was much too much for any one person to control, and they broke free from their earthly shells, leaving the shamans nearly dead. When they recovered, however, they learned that they had much better control over a single element, and could synchronize with the ambient magic much easier than before the ritual. Over hundreds of years, those shamans' descendants have become todays magic-users, and some can tap into their ancient heritages as Elemages."
"What six spirits weren't summoned?"
"The six most powerful pure spirits. "The ones who were strong enough to resist the Call. They are Temporal, Spatial, Celestial, Infernal, Death, and Life. Only a shaman with the power to melt a star could ever hope to harness those spirits.
"Okay then," said Harry. He made up his mind then and there to get strong enough to bring all of those spirits under his control. "So, back tot he Beast Taming..."
30th of October, 2003
Front Lawn, Hogwarts, Somewhere in Northern Scotland...or...whatever...
"Harry, what are you doing?" asked an exasperated Daphne. Harry, who'd been discreetly trying to light up a fatty, started and gave her a guilty grin.
Harry stood near the front of the assembled Hogwarts students, hanging out with Daphne and Tracey in the Slytherin line. So far, they'd been standing in the cool October air, wondering just when the hell the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang parties would arrive.
"Um, trying to decipher the mysteries of the universe by opening my very soul to the ravages of space and time?" he tried. An unimpressed glare, complete with an arched eyebrow, was his answer. "Heh, well, I'm bored. I could start pulling off some of the pranks me and the twins planted earlier than expected..."
"Maybe you should just stick with the weed," Tracey suggested, glancing around nervously to make sure there were no pranks aimed at her. Harry and the twins had proven themselves to be an even more formidable team than the Marauders of old had been. They sometimes went at each other in epic prank wars that sometimes ended with one or more of them with rather embarrassing additions (and subtractions) to their anatomy. But to the rest of the student body, they were rather nicer when it came to pranks. Except when it came to Snape, because, really, who could resist taking the overgrown bat down a few pegs every once in a while?"
Harry flicked his arm and cast an Air-Cleansing ward over his person and sparked up the joint.
Eventually, one of the third-year girls shrieked and pointed upward with a trembling hand. "I-it's a dragon!" she exclaimed as other people noticed the large shadow moving swiftly across the sky.
"Don't be thick," Collin Creevy retorted, rolling his eyes. "It's obviously a flying house. Collin's guess was closer to the truth; it turned out to be an enormous carriage pulled by a brace of beautiful, if intimidating, Abraxan. It was powder blue, and the Beauxbatons coat of arms was stamped proudly on the door to the carriage.
A young man stumbled out and unlatched a small set of steps, then moved back and saluted.
Harry, having met Madame Maxime on a few occassions when she visited Master Flamel during his apprenticeship, knew what to expect. Daphne and Tracey, however, didn't, and gawped at the gigantic woman in all her glory.
Ron Weasley, under a heavy Glamour to make him look Asian (as well as to hide his identity), suddenly leapt forward, pointed dramatically, and in a fake Japanese accent, cried, "Ran! Eet's Godzirra!"
Then he made a quick escape before anyone could react. Most of the Common-born students couldn't help but laugh until they dropped, and Harry, smirking, turned to Daphne slightly and muttered, "I totally paid him ten galleons to do that."
"I don't doubt it," Daphne replied dryly, though she had a smile on her face, nonetheless.
After a few moments of confusion, Madame Maxime walked over to Dumbledore, followed by her contingent of students.
"Dumbleedor," she announced with a small smile in order to greet the aging headmaster. "Eet 'as been too long. I 'ope you are doing well?"
"As good as to be expected froma man my age, my dear," Dumbledore replied, chuckling slightly, eyes twinkling. "I welcome you to my humble school Madame Maxime."
Olympme turned to examine the students around Dumbledore and did a slight double-take when she spotted Harry's unruly thatch of hair. he grinned and gave her a small salute (making sure to hide his weed), which she nodded to regally in reply.
Dumbledore led the Beauxbatons students into the castle, and as they passed, a girl who was wearing a thin scarf around her neck and a mane of platinum-blonde hair was beginning to turn the heads of most of the males present. 'Twas many a boyfriend who got their feet stomped or shins kicked because of the charm this woman seemed to cast.'
Tracey forced her elbow into a gaping Blaise's gut and he 'oomph'ed loudly as he doubled over. "Keep your eyes in your head, you prick," Tracey stated primly as she glared at the girl's back.
"'Snot his fault," Harry muttered, eyes narrowed as he watched the girl go. "She's got some sort of magical allure; there's definitely creature blood in her. Maybe a nymph or siren, but most likely veela. Wonder if she can go avian?"
"How d'you know that?" Daphne asked. She was secretly thankful that Harry hadn't turned into a complete idiot like many of the other boys. Maybe there was hope for him yet?
"Hm? Oh, well, I've...er...well...I've encountered one or two on my travels," Harry said evasively, stumbling through the sentence and causing Daphne to rescind her previous thought. Blaise gave him a discreet thumbs-up. Or, it would've been if tracey hadn't caught it and kneed him in the hamstring.
As the Beauxbatons students passed through the great oak doors, there was a massive detonation of bright purple smoke that shot out little sparkles of golden light. Someone must've cast some sort of wind-summoning charm to dispel it, because the smoke blew away to reveal that all the students had undergone a wardrobe change.
All the males had gained black trousers held up by black suspenders, a black-and-white-striped shirt, some gloves, and lots of white face-paint, while the girls were now done up in a French maid's outfit, complete with feather duster and garters.
Amidst the laughter and indignant cries of outrage, Harry caught the Twins' eyes and grinned. They returned the smile with a wink and a nod. One down, several to go. The three of them decided that it would be best to go the route of Transfiguration and Potions, when it came to giving their guests a 'proper' greeting, since those were apparently the two strongest points on the Hogwarts curriculum. And since the French were pretty much nothing but mimes and maids, why not give them a proper dose of Transfigurative textile magic?
Dumbledore, with a very amused twinkle in his eyes, started to disenchant the Transfiguration, only to find that, upon doing so, the Beauxbatons students' robes began to disintegrate, leaving them in nothing but their undergarments, which were promptly colored tie-dye by another of the supplementary charms added to the inital Transfiguration.
The Twins had recently developed a way to combine different types of magic for different or additional effects as well as reactions to a simple dispell-magic, along with other things. Harry had taken that and run with it, creating variations of his own using the wellspring of knowledge he'd gathered.
After realizing that simple magic wouldn't stop the enchantments, Dumbledore chuckled lightly and began to conjure sky-blue overrobes for those already affected and offered the use of one of Hogwarts many water closets to the remaining students.
Madame Maxime was offered an apologetic smile, which she ignored. Rolling her massive eyeballs, Olympe ushered her students into the castle.
After another few minutes of waiting, Harry'd finished off his paper plane and was looking for soemthing else to do. "Hey, Daph," he whispered so that only she could hear him.
Turning slightly, Daphne hissed back, "What?" knowing very well that something either insanely stupid or madly brilliant would come out of his mouth.
"How 'bout we get the hell outta here and headd down to the Chamber of Awesome to get the party set up?"
"Party?"
"Well, yeah," Harry said, looking at her oddly. It was common knowledge that he was throwing a party in the Chamber in honor of the new guests. He was startled that she didn't know about it. "It was the unofficial 'Welcome to Hogwarts' party for the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students. I'm suure I remember telling you about it."
Now that she thought about ti, that did sound familiar. She glanced around, noting the bored faces staring off into space, or chatting with others, and decided. "Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt..."
Harry beamed. "Excellent! Hang onto my arm." He offered her a hand, which she took hold of, then manipulated his remaining hand into several distinct magical sign. There was a small pop, and they were gone.
Tracey, who'd been staring rather dumbly at her shoe, turned at the sound, only to find harry and Daphne standing exactly where they'd been. Shrugging to herself, she went back to staring at her shoe.
Daphne and Harry were strolling down the second floor corridor toward the entrance to the Chamber. "What did you do?" Daphne asked, still wondering how he'd done what he'd done.
Harry offered her a wink. "It's called the Replacement Technique," he explained, opening the door of Myrtle's bathroom and holding it open for her. "I use a bit of magic to turn some random piece of debris into something that looks like me-and you, in this case-then teleport out of there, leaving our look-a-likes in our place. No one'll ever know any better."
"You certainly have quite a few tricks up your sleeve," Daphne said as he opened the way for them and created the moving staircase. "So, you know about the Yule Ball, right?"
"The what-kinda ball?" Harry asked, distracted.
"The Yule Ball," Daphne reiterated, and he couldn't quite tell, but he was almost positive she was blushing. "They always have one during the Tournament. It's a dance held on the night of Yuletide, as the name suggests."
"Oh," Harry said simply. He searched for a proper response. "Well, that's cool. My party'll be better, though."
He sensed more than saw her roll her eyes. "We'll see," she muttered, and Harry mentally wiped his brow in relief. He knew what she was aiming for, and it sounded like it could be rather fun to go to a ball with Daphne, but if he was being truthful, he didn't really know what his feelings for the Slytherin girl were, exactly.
Sure, he had lots of fun when he was with her, more than most people in the castle, actually. and she was definitely beautiful, prettier than almost any girl in any year. But the closest thing to love he'd ever known was what he'd felt for his godfather, the man who'd saved him from a life of crime and decay in New York. He couldn't honestly say he felt the same way about Daphne, but that was a given, seeing as how she was a lot easier on the eyes than old Padfoot, and also becaus he didn't swing for the other team.
No, Hary decided as they found themselves in the much-improved-upon antechamber. He'd just have to wait and see what the next two months had in store. Only time would tell, and that son of a bitch didn't give up his secrets very easily.
Fred and George noticed when Harry and Daphne left.
"The ol' Switcheroo," Fred admired, nodding in approval.
"We should've thought of that years ago," George added, rubbing his chin and wishing painfully that he had a beard to stroke. After all, most evil geniuses (or was it evil genii?) had beards or goatees to give a contemplative tug every once in a while.
Heheh. Tug.
After relating to his twin the thoughts he'd just thought and sharing a laugh over them, George continued. "But if Harry's gone, that means we'll have to activate the runework after the Bulgarians drink that potion."
"I wonder if Harry's got a pensieve," Fred wondered aloud. "Then we'll be able to show him our incredible craftiness and his amazing house-elf's resourcefuulness."
"Too right, Gred, too right."
After a large vessel appeared from within the lake, a longboat was dispatched and a bunch of Durmstrang students and staff disembarked onto the shore. Dumbledore greeted their headmaster cordially, and then the Bulgarians entered teh castle, followed by the entirety of Hogwarts' population.
Fred and George watched as faux-Harry and immitation-Daphne moved along with the Slytherins. Their movements were rather comical, and it drew strange looks from Davis and Zabini that had the Twins sniggering to themselves.
As they walked back through the doors and into the Entrance Hall, they could hear Ron waxing eloquent about how Viktor Krum was with the Durmstrang contingent, with an expresion that he usually wore when he had to take a whiz.
"Six sickles says ron makes an idiot of himself in front of Krum at the feast," George muttered.
"I'll bet it's at the party," Fred shot back with a grin. The two silently shook hands.
After they took their usual seats at the Gryffindor taable and everyone else settled down, the Headmaster stood and began to speak.
"Welcome to the Samhain Celebration Feast," He said in that impressive old-man voice of his. Fred briefly thought that Dumbledore's old-man voice was probably something that other old-man voices looked up to, and whose old-man voice called those other ones 'whipper-snappers' unabashedly. "I am pleased to welcome our visitors from the Beauxbatons Academy of magic and Durmstrang Institute of Sorcery. It is not too often that we have company here, you know," he said in a light tone as his eyes twinkled madly.
George idly wondered if that was normal, or if there was something wrong with Dumbledore's eyes.
"But before we get to the reason our guests are here in the first place, let us, as they say, 'chow down!'"
With an expansive wave of his arms, the food appeared on the plates and platters magically, and the next hour and a half were filled with the sound of silverware (or was it goldware in this case?) scraping against plates and laughter and idle chatter.
During the dessert course, there was a rather strange occurrence. Over at the Slytherin table, the Durmstrang students all began looking a bit nauseous, clutching their stomachs and turning red in the face until, with an almighty bang like a gunshot and copious amounts of blood-red smoke, they all transformed into large bears.
But that wasn't the strangest part, not by far. Perched ontop of the bears' heads were tiny red fez caps, and their enormous arms were shoved into the tiny holes of open-chested vests of the same color, hemmed in thread-of-gold. But not even that was what made such a strange happening so bizarre. No, it was the unicycles the bears were perched on, moving slightly back and forth to keep from toppling over.
Fred, George, and Harry hadn't had anything very funny to use against the Bulgarians as a whole, but they did agree that Bulgarian accents were suspiciously similar to Russian accents. And when one thinks of Russia, one thinks of bears on unicycles.
The elixer that Dobby had slipped into the Bulgarians' goblets had begun the change from within, and the accompanying draught in the desserts activated the first and initiated the transformation to the ursine creatures. Fred and George had manually activated the clothing Transfiguration, and Harry had supplied the neccessary runes to creat unicycles that would be nigh on impossible to lose balance on.
The Hall burst into laught as the bears did a few laps before the potions and charms wore off, and the Bulgarians, looking rather more surly than before, went back to their tables not bothering to finish their desserts.
Fred and George gave each other discreet low-fives beneath the Gryffindor table, and vowed to give Harry a high-five at the party later on for such a job well-done.
"Gred my dear brother, I do believe we might have outdone ourselves tonight."
"Forge, my dear brother, I do believe you're right."
After the various speeches by the three headmasters and two department heads of the Ministry, the students began to shuffle out. The first- through third-years all headed up to their dorms, and a few of the upper years did as well. Most of the student body, though, trickled up to the second-floor girl's loo (A/N: See, HP-DG-SB? I remembered!)
Or at least that's what the door said. Once through the door, one would find themselves in a lavishly-decorated sitting room with a rather less-mopey Moaning Myrtle, who was doing ghost-shots with Peeves the poltergeist near the extremely out-of-place toilet fixtyre.
Directly opposite Myrtle's throne was a large, circular opening where a staircase seemed to be moving down into the bowels of Hogwarts. Some of the visitors seemed a bit skeptical of the escalator at first, but once they saw the local residents of the castle step on without batting a lasth, they quickly cottoned onto the idea.
After the moving stairs ended, they would find themselves in a large antechamber with a ceiling so high it could've easily fit a fully-grown Hyperborean giant under it, with room enough for a second one to sit comfortably on its shoulders. The chamber's walls were lined with tables laden down with various snack foods, dips, and punches. The center had been cleared for the most part, and music the likes of which the purebloods had never heard of was blasting from a rune-covered boom-box, providing a beat for the dancers on the floor.
From this chamber, party-goers would have a choice of three rooms to enter, from left to right.
The first was the main party chamber, where there was an extremely large projector screen on the far wall, which was playing the movie Pulp Fiction on an endless loop. Nearby was a large hot-tub, filled to the brim with people, as well as several long tables, upon which sat varying numbers of plastic cups, some filled with beer, others empty and on the sidelines. Next to most of these tables were people who were explaining the ingenious games of Beer Pong and Flip Cup to those poor depraved individuals who had never heard of such games.
The second room was really just a very long hallway with a scenic landscape painting along it, with more snacks and drinks and things on yet more tables. At the far end was a raised dais in front of a massive set of double-doors. Upon the dais was a strange machine with a microphone and screen attached to it, where some of the braver (or more drunken) revellers got up and sang in what was called a 'Karaoke competition.'
The third and final room was reserved for the Very Important People, and was much more comfortable than the other places in that it had a large, squashy sofa and a cool piece of electronics called a 'television,' where the VIPs were taking turns playing 'video games.' It was all very intriguing.
But the one thing that all the party-goers could count on was the veritable ball of awesomeness that was Harry Potter. No matter where one was in the Chamber of Awesome, one could bet that they'd meet up with the host with the most at one point or another. With a drink in one hand, an expertly-rolled wrapped marijuana cigarette in the other, and a whole helluva lot of frivolity in his heart, he was the proverbial 'Life of the Party.'
"Oi, Harry!" exclaimed Fred (or was it George? By this point, Harry neither knew nor cared). "Let's show these French punks who's boss at Flip Cup!"
Harry, who'd been hanging out with a bevvy of hot witches of varying nationalities in the hot tub, was immediately out of the jacuzzi, wand in hand and a drying spell on his lips as he sauntered over to the nearest Flip Cup table.
By the time he'd reached it, he was dry and (thanks to the textile-conjuring spells) clothed in a (mostly over-the-toop) fur coat, a Viking helm, and a large clock on a necklace. He studied the five French punks in question on the other side of the table for a moment, all of whome tried to put on intimidating faces that gave them a rather constipated look.
Then he turned to George (or was it Fred?) and said, "I'm in."
Instantly, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, who'd been waiting for an answer, all cheered and took positions opposite the French competitors.
"Okay, everyone!" Harry told them, Teleporting a humongous pitcher of beer to his hand and pouring each cup to the very brim with the magical (figuratively speaking) brew, "do we all know the rules?" When he recieved affirmative answers from everyone, he grinned. "Okay, then!" He threw the pitcher off to the side, which vanished before it hit anything. "Three...two...one...GO!"
Alicia and the first Frenchman raised the cups to their lips and started drinking. Alicia showed herself to be quite the accomplished drinker, polishing off the cup much more quickly than her counterpart before up-ending the cup on the edge of the table, mouth-down, and flicking her hand upwards, causing the cup to spin around in the air and land right-side up just as her opponent finished drinking.
Cheering, Angelina chugged her beer as fast as she could, and managed to right her cup on her third try while the first Frenchie was still struggling to do the same with his. George took his hops injection quickly, but had a bit of trouble getting his cup to stand upright, allowing the other team to catch up.
Katie and the French girl across from her finished their drinks almost simultaneously, and both got their cups to stand straight on the first attempt. Down to the wire, the French team believed that they could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
Oh, those poor miserable idiots. They never won anything, didn't they know that?
Harry grabbed his cup and downed the beer contained within in the time it took for his adversary to simply lift the plastic to his lips, dropped the cup on the table and with a quick flick of his wrist, the game was over.
"Yay-yuh!" Harry shouted, pumping his fist in the air as Katie turned and hugged him tightly. "Eat a dick, you Beauxbatons trash! Hogwarts rules!" The chant was quickly taken up by first the team, then the rest of the Hogwarts students nearby.
"Hogwarts rules! Hogwarts rules! Hogwarts rules! Hogwarts-"
"You really think you are better than us at the game of drink?" a quiet, surly voice came from behind Harry, who spun around qicklky to find himself face-to-face with none other than Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker extrordinaire.
"Hell yeah, I do!" Harry responded without a hint of hesitation, a smirk coming to his face quickly.
Viktor snapped his fingers, and a small table, two chairs, and a bottle of vodka was brought forward by several members of his entourage. "Ve shall see who is better drinker, then, ya?"
"Ya," Harry answered in a Russian accent, taking a seat across from Viktor and conjuring two rows of ten shotglasses before them. "Ve shall indeed see, commrade. First to ten shots vins."
He poured a healthy amount of vodka into each glass before setting down the bottle and picking up his first glass, gesturing for Krum to do the same. "Bottoms up!"
The two clinked their glasses together in a show of good sportsmanship before downing the first shot at the same time. They kept throwing back the liquor at an equal pace until about the sixth shot, when Krum began lagging behind. By the time Harry had polished off his tenth and final dose of Russian liquor, Viktor was still struggling to down his eighth.
Harry, now beyond drunk, sat back, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave Krum a smug grin. "Looks like Hogwarts RULES!"
The chant started up again, and this time, there was nothing stopping it. Until, of course, a retardedly drunk and stark-naked Ron ran through the chamber, screaming, "I LOVE YOU VIKTOR KRUM!" at the top of his inebriated lungs.
Discreetly, George handed Fred six silver pieces.
A/N: So that's the end of that chapter. Once again, I apologize for the late update. I'll try to hurry up on this mother of a fic, but my mind keeps throwing plot bunnies at me for different genres of fanfiction, and some of those little bastards have really sharp teeth.
On an unrelated note, I know this is blatant self-advertising, but you guys are really good reviewers, and I need some of you to check out my other works. If anybody likes rock bands, drug- and alcohol-abuse, and Pokemon fanfiction, drop by my author's page and check out my Poke-fic, titled Flash Cannon. I have a startlingly low number of reviewers on that fic (2) despite the high word count (about 53,000), and I really want to know what other people think of it...otherwise, it makes me a Sad Panda :( I also have a Bleach fic called Return of the King, which is still in the early stages, but...yeah. Anyways, please, please give me some feedback. I crave it like I crave the crack-cocaine (just kidding, though; weed's my number-one gal, and alcohol is my only mistress).
And now for some reviewer replies.
Jrf Steel: Action-packed chapters are great, especially without the drama. and as for Harry, I do believe his skirt-chasing days are numbered, and the clock is ticking quickly.
Ex10: Hell yeah, man! That's what I'm talking about!
O Jordino O: Hey, you changed your name! Anyway, this is only the eighth chapter of what I hope will be a story with maybe a couple dozen. Patience is a virtue, and when it comes to my Harry, it will be greatly rewarded. You want some bad-ass magic that will reshape the land with a click of the trigger or a swing of the sword? You want spells that will crush his enemies and strike fear into their commrades' hearts? Oh, it will be glorious when it happens. Trust me and have a bit of faith. I don't wanna lose any readers because of something I did wrong. Oh, and I hope you don't think I'm a perv or anything, but I've been reading your Bloodline of Lust fic, and all I can say is "Yowza!"
blackroselover: Sorry to disappoint, but I've got a plan for poor ol' Drakey-poo that'll have even the most die-hard Draco-haters cringing in sympathy. And what happens in the Chamber stays in the Chamber. Except syphylis. And AIDS.
Amber-Says-Go-Die: I'm glad somebody thought it was a cool fight. I thought so, but then again, I might be a tiny bit biased in my opinion. Your patience will be rewarded in a few chapters, when Harry and Daphne end up together. There's a bit of HxD interaction in this chapter, but it's more or less platonic...for now. BWAHAHAHAHA.
ceo55: Thank you, and yes, he does! Check out Draco's inital punishment in this cahppe, so that was a little of what you wanted.
HP-DG-SB. Thanks again. and for those who've been asking (you included), Harry is indeed one powerful S.O.B. (he outsmarted Nicolas Flamel, for Christ's sake!). It's just that for now, Voldemort is simply that much more powerful. Trust, though, Harry got a new tutor, some new magic to study, and he's growing in strength each and every day. And thanks for the correction, too. I'll get right on editing the last chapter. I rectified the fuck-up in this chapter (did you see my shout-out?) I'll be waiting for your next review.
slimjim84: SNAP INTO A YOU! Sorry. Anyway, it's nice to see a new reader (and even better to see a new reviewer), I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. Anyway, Bushy'll havee his part to play later on down the line, but he'll be more of a pet than a familiar, if anything. Nobody fucks with Morpheus' position and lives, and Bushy's smart enough to know that.
RogueNya: Ol' Lucy vaguely knew what the diary was for, though not many people know what a Horcrux is, after all. It was explained in this chapter how Draco got his grubby little hands on the diary, and as for the Horcrux's apparent knowledge, well...let's just say that I've got a bit of a surprise in store for that. Spoiler alert! Draco's gonna die. And it'll be bad. He won't be bad, but he won't be good, either. He'll just be that one guy on the fringe of the war that doesn't wanna be involved. Like Switzerland, or the Neutral Planet.
vizard: Based on your previous rveiw, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that 'over the top' and 'unbelievable' aren't words of kindness, but I'm taking it as a compliment anyway with a huge middle finger to anyone who says otherwise. Unbelievable to me expresses awe and slight bewilderment, while over the top is a phrase that has been used in reference to me so many times by so many different people, that it's become a term of endearment amongst my friends. So long and thanks for all the fish. I mean reviews. Yeah.
rb2312: Don't count your chickens before they hatch, my friend. You get a T for Troll! Just kidding, though. That particular scene won't happen until four or five c hapters down the line. For now, I'm just trying to solidify the frame-work for their friendship before I jump into anything like that.
ARASHI2196: Thanks for the praise, but I'm sorry if I disappoint when I say that this will be a strictly HxD fiction. To be honest, I have no idea what the appeal other guys see in having a harem. I mean, yeah, you get a lot of women to love, but you're also saddled with the work involved to keep all of them pleased. And the drama between them? Fuggeddaboutit! Give me one good girl and I'll be happy. In regards to tips for writing...well, just do your best, learn from your mistakes, and by all means, don't take flames to heart. Flamers are just assholes seeking to raise their own egos by knocking the legs out from under others. What I've learned from reading an ass-ton of HP fics and writing this one is that people don't like to just see Harry having a cool-ass wand and a bajillion Animagus forms; it's what he does with the magic he knows, y'know? I'm sure you'll do great. Just have faith in yourself and fuck all the haters.
lectorsum: Wow. That's probably one of the best reviews I've gotten. Like...ever. You made me a very happy panda with your words, and I hope you review upon this newest chapter. And to be frank, you should be wishing fair fortune upon the authors of the many, many fanfictions I've read over the years that helped me gain inspiration for this mash-up of half-baked ideas and random plot points I've come up with. This fic is pretty much the equivalent of tossing a bunch of stuff into a blender, hitting puree and praying that it doesn't taste like barf. Heh. Thanks again.
Elfwyn: Yeah, I know it seems like a huge plot hole, but I just find that most authors discredit old Moldyshorts and his abilities, y'know? I mean, he didn't become one of the most feard Dark Lords in centuries just 'cause he's got a gang of thugs who throw more money than spells during war. He had some serious fuckin' power at his fingertips, and that's part of the reason why so many magicians put Harry on a pedestal at such a young age. At least, that's how it is in my twisted mind. Your mileage may vary, of course. Anyway, thanks for the review, and I hope you keep reading.
Tomon: Good luck finding me! I'm like a...like a Green Beret sneaking past enemy lines to rescue my captured brother in arms or something...like...like the wind or soemthing...heh. But thanks for saying that. I'm happy now.
Victorules: I answered your question about the levitation thing with a tiny little scene right after the Moody-Unforgivables scene. To fly, simply throw yourself at the ground and...er...miss. I advise you not to try that at home. My body's still aching from when I tried to fly off my roof. And I'm still looking for that tooth...
Luc: Thank you very much. I'm sorry about Sirius, and also about your disappointment involving Albus. There will be several altercations when Harry tells Dumbledore to eat a dick...more or less, but I've seen Manipulative!Dumbles done far, far too often for me to even want to take a crack a the old dude. Besides, canon!Harry has many more grievances against Dumbledore than Adventures!Harry does, so it's not entirely unthinkable.
HolyDragoon: I...this...what...AWESOME! That line made me piss myself...luckily I was already in the bathroom, so tragedy was avoided. I'm glad that at least somebody gets my reasons for not turning this int a Manipulative!Dumbledore fic, and lol on that goat-raping thing! As for Voldemort's demise, well...let's just say that he'll wish he'd never been born before his soul departs from this plane of existence. Or at least, he'll wish that harry had never been born.
InstigateInsanity: Wow, I'm glad you enjoyed my stoned-ass writing! I totally know where you're coming from concerninLord Jag the whole Super!Harry genre, and I'm glad that I was able to stand on my tippy-toes to get that couple inches above the rest in your eyes. Thanks a lot, and I'll try to keep updating.
Thanks also to Lord Jace, mwinter1, sh8ad8ow, ASRFTW, wef1, HP Fan 36, murdrax, narutoshamanking, TxA-GunFighter, ILikeComps, call015, Dark Dragen, Debate4life, Ratus, grr, shubhendu dutta, lego-king, mcgurrin, James018, LAxHellRaiser, Lord of the light Cartwright, DeathSr, captain H.M Murdock, mercedez, Lolxxx, TheUnheeded, SeaBreeze2Ga, and Kitsune Farron.
Well, that's the end of this. I hope I don't disappoint with the next one. Review. For the love of God, review!