Been a while since I updated this one.
Soldier: Slacker!
Spy: Calm yourself my friend.
Soldier: Zip it fenchie!
Spy: *Sighs, tosses Sapper onto Soldier, frying him* one too many hits with ze shovel zat one.
Kyugan: Indeed. In any case, the wheel of Fate is Turning, let us see what change this continuum shift has wrought!
Chapter 7: The Rogue Bludger.
For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back, occasionally taking time out of glaring murderously at the students to try and scrub the message off the wall with 'Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover', for all the good it did, if anything the words gleamed brighter than ever, as all he'd managed to do was scrub the dirt of centuries off the wall.
When the caretaker WASN'T guarding the scene of the crime or railing at his inability to clean the graffiti off it, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like 'breathing loudly' and 'looking happy', which were surprisingly legitimate offenses, albeit ones that hadn't been used since the dark ages.
Surprisingly, the attack had also had an effect on Herwald, or rather, his reputation. It was first noticed when people began whispering about him in the halls whenever he passed, nothing new there really, they did it all time, though the upper years had gotten over the novelty after his first year, however he didn't suspect something deeper was going on when during a study session in the library, where Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff friend of Neville's, took one look at him and turned abruptly, speeding off in the opposite direction.
"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony." Ron was telling the others as they swept out of the Library, Draco having filled the group in as to The Chamber's origins, though he kept the mention of his father out of the retelling "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. No offense Herwald but if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd have got the train straight back home…"
"Believe me, Weasley," Draco opined wryly, his brow twitching in mild irritation as he eyed the redhead out the corner of his eye "if the Hat had sorted you into Slytherin, I'd have done the same."
Herwald rolled his eyes, bemused despite himself at the banter between the blonde and redhead, for as annoying as it could get at time, at the very least they could stand one another's company without exchanging curses of the magical variety with one another. "Guten Tag, Colin." He greeted automatically, spying the Gryffindor first-year amongst the throng of students heading the other way.
"Harry!" Collin called out, his features lined with excited concern as he fought against the flow "Harry, Listen! A boy in my class has been saying you're-!"
Whatever the boy had been saying was lost, as Colin, despite his eagerness, was too small to fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall, a tide that quickened once they realized who he was talking to, the boy managing one last 'See you, Harry!' before he was swallowed up. "I wonder what they're saying about you?" Hermione pondered, looking at her friend in concern.
"That I'm Slytherin's heir, or some Scheiße to that effect I expect." Herwald muttered, earning a snort of bemusement from Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, who were bringing up the rear, the two having filled their larger compatriots in when they returned to the dormitory the other night.
"People here'll believe anything." Ron muttered in disgust, scowling at the crowd, which slowly managed to thin, allowing them to climb the next staircase without difficulty "D'you REALLY think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Ron asked Hermione.
"Someone seems to think so." Hermione reminded the redhead with a frown "And Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be, well, human."
As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall, which still bore its ominous message.
"That's where Filch has been keeping guard." Ron muttered, the redhead shivering slightly as he stared at the ominous silver writing, only to blink as Herwald passed his book bag to him "Harry?"
"Give me a second…" Herwald muttered, crouching down to get a better look at the crime scene, frowning as he spotted several clues "Look here…scorch marks!" he pointed out, drawing their attention "Here, and here, fairly fresh too, the water from earlier was probably to put out whatever caused them…"
"Herwald! Hermione called out, drawing her friends attention to a nearby window "Come and look at this! This certainly isn't normal…"
Herwald quirked a brow, getting to his feet and dusting off his hands as he joined the rest of the group at the window next to the message on the wall, following Hermione's extended finger to the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside. "Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" said Hermione wonderingly, looking on in amazement, entranced by the arachnids unnatural activity.
"Never." Draco countered, the Malfoy heir quirking a brow as he stared at the little eight legged pests, Goyle scratching his head in dazed wonderment "What about you Weasley…Weasley?"
Herwald looked over his shoulder to see Ron standing well back from the window, his eyes locked on the multitude of arachnids, the expression in on his face making it clear he was fighting a losing battle against his desire to run. "I…don't…like…spiders." The redhead grit out from between clenched teeth, his entire jaw working in a way that Herwald knew was the result of his resisting the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.
"Oh you cannot be serious…" Draco muttered, the blonde curling his lip as he glared at the redhead in disbelief "Honestly Weasley, you've used the damned things more often than not in Potions…"
"I don't mind them DEAD." Ron countered, and Draco was surprised that there was no anger in the redhead's tone, as he was focusing on looking anywhere but at the window. "I just don't like the way they move…" he scowled at Crabbe, Goyle and Hermione, the former two sniggering openly, while the latter burst into giggles "It's not funny!" he snarled fiercely, which only set them off further "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my…" he flushed scarlet, looking anywhere but at Draco and Herwald "my teddy bear…into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick. I'd like to see how well YOU liked the little bastards after you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and pincers the size of your arm and mad, gleaming red eyes…"
He broke off with a shudder, a sentiment shared by the others, even Crabbe and Goyle looking decidedly unnerved at the image of being that close to a spider the size of a teddy bear. Admittedly, larger spiders tended not to be venomous, but then they didn't need to be, their sheer size meant they could tear their prey apart without the need to immobilize them first. "Where do you think the water came from?" Herwald demanded, the Einzbern getting the distinct feeling they had better get off the subject.
"It was about here." Ron muttered, recovering himself with a grateful sigh as he walked a few paces past Filch's chair "Level with this door." He muttered, reaching for the brass doorknob, only to suddenly withdraw his hand as though he'd been burned.
"Oh what's wrong now?" Draco demanded, the Malfoy heir looking annoyed with the redhead's recent over-the-top antics "Don't tell me you're scared of doorknobs now too?"
"Stuff it Malfoy." Ron muttered gruffly, though he had the decency to blush "I can't go in there even if I wanted to." He pointed at the image on the door "That's a girls' toilet."
"Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in THERE." Hermione countered, sighing in exasperation even as she pushed past the boy "That's Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom." She pointed out, ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign and opening the door "Come on, let's have a look."
They did so, Crabbe and Goyle opting to stand outside and keep watch for Filch or a member of staff, this WAS a girl's bathroom after all, the rest filing in after Hermione, feeling it was better if she led the way, being legally allowed to enter, taking in the scene before them in disbelief.
It was, put simply, the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Herwald had ever set foot in his entire life. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.
"Huh…" Ron muttered, quirking a brow intriguingly as he nudged the others, drawing their attention to the opposite walls "I'll be damned, they really DON'T have urinals in here…Fred and George weren't having me on after all..."
Hermione scowled at the boy, a flush adorning her cheeks as she raised a finger to her lips, urging him to be silent, the boys following her down to the end stall, taking a deep breath to compose herself before speaking up "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"
"This is a girls' bathroom." Moaning Myrtle muttered, the spectral student floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin as she eyed the boys suspiciously. "THEY'REnot girls, though the one with the glasses has a nice braid."
"It is a nice braid isn't it?" Hermione agreed, sending an apologetic look at Herwald, who scowled at Ron, Neville and Draco for sniggering at him "I just wanted to show them how…uh…nice it is in here."
Herwald rolled his eyes, a sentiment that was clearly shared by Myrtle, who was staring at Hermione as if SHE was the one with mental problems. "If I may, Frau Myrtle." He spoke up, drawing the ghost's attention "We, that is, my friends and I, we wondering if you'd seen anything funny lately?" he gestured to the door to the bathroom "You see, a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween. Did you happen to see anyone near here that night?"
"I wasn't paying attention." Myrtle replied, sighing dramatically "Peeves upset me so much at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party that I came in here and tried to kill myself." She looked delighted at the thought, only to sigh once more "Then, of course, I remembered that I'm…that I'm-!"
"Already dead?" Ron supplied helpfully, only to wince as Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.
"Nice one, Weasley…" Draco muttered acidly, wiping toilet-water off his face as he glared at the redhead with all the intensity of a high-powered laser drill "Set off the emotionally unstable ghost, oh very well done, remind me to never vote for you the next time they're electing foreign ambassadors."
"Oh calm down Draco." Hermione sighed, shrugging wearily as Ron turned red from embarrassment, shaking the water from her hair "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle. Come on, let's go-!"
She trailed off as Crabbe and Goyle sauntered in, the two sentries having espied Ron's brother Percy marching up the corridor and had ducked inside to avoid being noticed, the group waiting until they were certain the Weasley Prefect had buggered off before making their escape.
A few days later...
Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes re-enacted some of the more dramatic bits, though he wisely refrained from trying to convince Herwald from helping out after the first try. Amorous Lethlifold of New Guinea INDEED!
Fortunately, Saturday morning rolled around, and with it, the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, the Lions eager to kick-start the year with a resounding victory over their serpentine rivals. Draco was in high spirits, not only because this would be his first official match as Slytherin seeker, but because the Slytherin team were all mounted on Nimbus 2001s, the fastest racing brooms gold could buy, whereas the Gryffindors rode a motley selection of comet 260s and Cleansweep 7's. Statistically speaking, it wasn't going to be a match so much as a SLAUGHTER.
Herwald really could have cared less, as he wasn't that fond of Quidditch despite Draco's attempts to get him hooked on what was the Wizarding World's Traditional Sport, however it was considered bad-show to miss a house match, and so he took up position in the stands along with his fellow Slytherins, an emerald and silver scarf wrapped tightly around his neck as he leafed through one of the alchemical texts Flamel had thoughtfully purchased for him along with his schoolbooks, though he doubted he'd get reading much of it, if the hint of thunder in the air was any indication.
He looked up as the Gryffindor players walked out onto the pitch to a roar of noise, and was disgusted by the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs' biased support, the two houses, despite having no part in the rivalry between the Snakes and the Lions, nonetheless wanting to see Slytherin beaten.
'Verdammt House Rivalries…' he muttered, looking on as Madam Hooch asked Captains Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary, the two teams mounting their brooms, before shooting into the air at the sound of Hooch's whistle, Draco rising hire than any of them so as to get a better view of the playing field.
Herwald was so busy watching the match, knowing he'd catch an earful if Draco spotted him reading, that he almost didn't notice the danger rocketing towards him until it was too late, only his training under the Einzberns for the 5th Grail war allowing him to lunge to the side, scant seconds before a Bludger, which had veered off from circling the pitch without anyone seemingly noticing, slammed into the space his head had previously occupied.
"WAS DIE FICK?" Herwald swore, blinking in alarm at the shattered wood that had once been the back of the stands, only to swear as the Bludger came round for another pass, once again narrowly missing him by a hair's breadth "SCHEIßE!"
It was pandemonium in the stands, the rest of the Slytherins screaming as they scrambled to get away from the devastation left in the errant Bludger's wake, tripping each other up and generally making it difficult to move.
"Scheiße!" Herwald swore, realizing that he was buggered at this rate, as it was clear the magical cannonball was only after HIM, it certainly only seemed to be aiming wherever HE was, and that at this rate, it was only a matter of trial and error before it either nailed him, or injured someone in the process.
Realizing this, there was only one course of action the Einzbern could take, and so he waited until the Bludger was already rocketing towards him, before reinforcing his legs and LEAPING out of the stands, the Bludger missing him by a hairs breadth, the wind from it's passing tumbling him slightly as he fell to the ground, slapping the pitch and rolling to the side like an expert tumbler, scant seconds before the demented cannonball slammed into the ground after him.
"Not so easy NOW you iron hoden." Herwald sneered, smirking as he slapped his left hand into the ground, a shield of dirt rising between him and the Bludger, though he grimaced as the impact of the two colliding actually caused the entire structure to crumble "Scheiße, and they actually let people get HIT by these things?" he muttered, rolling clear and summoning another barrier, making sure to reinforce it this time to weather the assault.
"MR. POTTER!" Madam Hooch cried, the Quidditch coach and referee for the match descending on him from on high, her face pale and her hawk-like eyes wide with concern for her student's safety "Come on! On my broom!"
"Look out!" Herwald swore, only to curse as the other Bludger, which had gone unnoticed during the exchange, rammed into her back, sending Madam Hooch sprawling off her broom, her eyes wide with alarm and pain "Scheiße!"
Breaking from cover, Herwald lunged forwards, feet first, his arms catching the falling instructor before she hit the ground, only to curse as he slipped on the pitch, sodden after days of rain, going down on his arse, unable to do anything but turn so that his side shielded the woman from the incoming rogue Bludger, which slammed into his left arm with a sickening crack.
"Scheiße!" he swore, gritting his teeth from the pain, as even with reinforcement, the Bludger had hit with the force of a cannonball, an attack no mere mortal or even a dead apostle, could withstand with hastily prepared defences. A servant could shrug such an attack off with no trouble, hell Heracles could have bounced the damn thing off his FACE and not even blink, but despite his magical training, Herwald was only a twelve year old boy, and right now it felt like every bone in his arm had shattered from the blow.
'Left arm's fucked…' he muttered, struggling to regain his composure as he ignored the pain, one Emerald eye cracking open to watch the skies, where both team's beaters, in an unusual show of solidarity, were apparently on patrol warding off the demented Bludger 'Entire left side feels numb…can still feel my toes but I don't think I'm running anywhere like this…'
Not that he was intending to run. The Einzberns NEVER ran, to retreat was to admit failure, to turn your back on the enemy was to die. Even if it meant facing their maker before their time, an Einzbern would face whatever life threw at them and die laughing in death's face.
"HARRY!" one of the Weasley twins yelled, Herwald looking up to see the Bludger had managed to slip past a Slytherin Beater by using its twin as a distraction, the magical cannonball rocketing towards him murderously "GET OUTTA THE WAY!"
Had Herwald been alone he might have considered it, but with his left side numb and the wounded Madam Hooch to contend with, the Boy-Who-Lived's options were limited. He could either abandon Hooch, leaving her to he crushed by the Bludger when he dodged, or he could take the blow again and protect her, which would probably result in his being killed instantly, or worse, crippled, unable to do anything but lie helpless wondering when the finishing blow would come.
'To Hölle with THAT…' he growled, setting Madam Hooch on the ground and staggering to his feet, his broken left arm dangling limply even as he raised his right hand, popping the joints of his fingers as he envisioned a woman's scream and a flash of emerald death 'I pick door number three!'
So saying he lunged forwards, his right hand brimming with all the prana he could muster, the alchemical arrays blazing beneath his robes as he lashed out at oncoming projectile, his emerald eyes flashing as he grabbed the murderous Bludger and activated the destructive arrays, the impact of the blow jarring every bone in his body, the last thing he saw was the sleeve of his robe shredding from the alchemical backlash, and then the world went white.
Emiya Estate, Japan...
"Oh no!" Sakura exclaimed, the younger Tohsaka sibling looking on in distress as Illyasviel's teacup cracked at the handle, causing it to spill it's contents all over the table "Hold still Ilya-chan, I'll clean it up."
"Sorry..." Illyasviel offered, a little surprised at the sudden destruction of the cup, the deceptively young Homunculous turning her ruby eyes towards the spreading tea stain, which Tiger was licking at tentatively.
'Strange...' she muttered, reaching out to stroke her kitten's fur behind it's ears 'Why do I feel like something bad has happened?'
Hogwarts...
The sound of voices echoing above him and the feel of rain falling on his face heralded Herwald's return to consciousness, the Einzbern grimacing from the pain in his right arm, a stark contrast to the dull numbness of his left. Someone was supporting his head, though he could tell from the feel of grass beneath his fingers he was still lying on the field.
Grimacing, he cracked one emerald eye open to see what was going on, only to instantly regret it as he came face to incisors with a set of glittering teeth. "Oh, Gott im Himmel…" he moaned, closing his eye and praying fervently to whatever deities or Epic Heroes that were listening that this was just a dream "I've died and gone to Hölle..."
"He's delerious, doesn't know what he's saying!" Lockhart declared loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors and Slytherins pressing around them, "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arms."
"NEIN!" Herwald snapped, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he struggled, despite his injuries, to get the hell away from Lockhart, only to curse as the man's iron grip on his shoulder prevented him from doing so "Get zur Hölle off me you Scheisskerl!" He grimaced as he heard a familiar clicking noise nearby "Verdammt Collin! Don't just stand there! Get Dumbledore down here before this Schwachkopf-!"
"Lie back, Harry!" Lockhart urged, far too loudly to be seen as soothing as he set the boy back on the pitch, Herwald hissing as pain raced up his right side "It's a simple charm I've used countless times!"
"In that case use it on Madam Hooch first!" Herwald swore, apologizing to the poor woman even as he said it, but right now he'd do almost anything to get away from Lockhart "Or Hölle, get us both to the Verdammt hospital wing!"
But Lockhart wasn't listening, and before anyone could stop him, the man had rolled up his jade-green sleeves, giving his wand a dramatic twirl before aiming it at Herwald, the Einzbern flinching, part of him expecting to be brutally disfigured, another part expecting him to explode, while another prayed, hopefully, that the fop would fumble it up again and nothing at all would happen, therefore, he was only half surprised when a strange and decidedly unpleasant sensation of his arms deflating started at his shoulders, spreading all the way down to his fingertips.
He couldn't see what was happening, he couldn't even push himself up as his arms, for whatever reason, simply weren't able to comply, nor did they feel remotely like arms for that matter. It was if they were GONE, a fear that was growing all the more certain as the people above him gasped and Colin's camera began clicking away madly.
"Ah." Lockhart uttered, and Herwald had never hated two letters more in his entire existence than he did those spoken by the nervously smiling fop before him "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen." He admitted, sweating nervously in the face of Herwald's furious emerald glare "But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind." He chuckled nervously as Herwald's scowl merely intensified "So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing…" he looked around wildly "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him?" he smiled down at Herwald "And Madam Pomfrey will be able to…er…tidy you up a bit."
Herwald moved to get up, and found he couldn't as neither of his arms was responding to his commands. Glaring murderously at Lockhart, who had wisely decided to make himself scarce, the Einzbern allowed himself to be helped to his feet by a rather pale looking Ron and Neville, staggering slightly as he got to his feet, feeling strangely lopsided. Taking a deep breath, more to steady himself than anything else, the Einzbern dared to look down at his arms, a thousand curses magical and otherwise, forming on the tip of his tongue as he saw just what Lockhart had done to him.
From the shoulder down, the sleeves of his right arm was gone, revealing his alchemical array for all to see, though they were dim now, devoid of prana, about as harmless as ordinary mundane tattoos. That wasn't the problem however, what BOTHERED Herwald was that his arm, which was normally rather toned for an eleven year old, now resembled a thick, flesh-coloured rubber glove, and while he couldn't see his left arm because of the sleeve covering it, the sight of his lifeless fingers peeking out from the end was all he needed to confirm it had suffered a similar fate.
Lockhart hadn't mended his bones, the bloody Scheißekopf had REMOVED them.
"I'll kill him…!" he snarled, his emerald eyes flashing as he turned, struggling against Ron and Neville's desperate grip, urging what little prana remained in his body towards his legs as he advanced on Lockhart, who took one look at his expression and redoubled his retreat "Get off me! I'm going to kill that Arschloch!"
"Harry mate calm down!" Ron exclaimed, looking on in alarm as his disarmed friend actually managed several feet towards the retreating Lockhart, cursing a blue streak in fast-paced German all the while "Blimey! FRED! GEORGE! Help out you pratts!"
"Easy there Harry…" Fred or George urged, Herwald was too pissed to care, the twins grabbing his shoulders, what was left of them anyways, and yanking him bodily off the ground "Believe me, we know how you feel, but let's get you to Madam Pomfrey for now."
"Think about it mate." The other twin urged, grinning nervously in the face of Herwald's murderous expression "You'll have a much easier time killing him with full use of your hands."
Herwald scowled, wanting nothing more than to ignore them and rip Lockhart's face off with his teeth, only to relent, the Weasley's setting him down and escorting him off the pitch towards the castle, the wall of students parting before them. "What happened to the Bludger?" He demanded, looking over his shoulder warily in case the demented cannonball made another bid for his life "Did they get it under control?"
"Couldn't mate…" Fred or George muttered, the Gryffindor seeker looking impressed as hell as he grinned at the Einzbern "You completely destroyed the bloody thing, damn near blinded me with the flash, all that's left was a pile of dust on the pitch."
Herwald couldn't help but feel a little pleased with himself at those words, a small smirk adorning his lips as he stumbled up the steps and into the castle.
And I'll leave off there...
Heavy: LOCKHART! I am going to kill you! And Kill You! And Kill YOU!
Spy: Easy Fat man! *sighs as he runs off* Oh well, they certainly can't accuse you of copy-pasting the original source material now.
Kyugan: There's nothing wrong with sticking to the source material. I find it makes a good timeline, however, certain events happen differently as a result of Herwald being different than Harry, like their awareness of the Chamber despite not speaking to Binns, and Malfoy's support.
Pyro: *Angry mutterings* MHMHMMMAM!
Kyugan: Quite a bit of German used this chapter. To all native German speakers, I apologize if my use is out of context, I'm relying on various sources but nothing beats being fluent in a language.
Spy: Doktor, if you would?
Medic: Ja *ahem*
Medic's Uber-Translation Corner:
Was Die Fick-What the F*ck
Hoden-Ball, testicle.
Hölle-Hell.
Gott im Himmel-God in Heaven.
Scheisskerl-Son of a bitch, motherf*cker etc.
Schwachkopf-Moron, Dimwit, Wanker etc.
Scheißekopf-Shithead etc.
Arschloch-Arsehole, Asshole, dickhead, f*ckhead etc.
Kyugan: Herwald's quite the potty mouth isn't he folks? In any case, tune in for next time!