I own nothing.
The Two Princes of Hogwarts
-Chapter Ten
Arkin was not impressed when he found them at the breakfast table on Sunday morning. "So, you snuck out to go drinking without me?"
"No, we didn't," Harry rasped. "We were here, just, over there you know?"
"We weren't drinking," Ron added.
"So, you can get a hangover without drinking alcohol in the magic world, huh?" Arkin asked. He intentionally moved his loaded plate towards Ron and the large young man recoiled, his face turning slightly green.
"How do you know what a hangover is?" Harry asked, trying to ignore the sounds of his oldest friend dry heaving. "Oh, your dad is military, right?"
"My uncles like to party," Arkin stated as he began eating. Ron managed not to evacuate his stomach and slumped back down to the table.
"Why are we here?" he whimpered.
"Putting in an appearance," Hermione replied. Her head rolled slightly. "Does anyone else feel that?"
"Feel it? Hell, I can taste it," Ron grumbled.
"It was. . .Inevitable," Luna whined.
"Good morning," Minerva announced far too loudly, causing a fair bit of moaning and groaning. Hermione actually hissed and buried her head in her arms. "I recently noticed how distracted I've been!" Minerva continued loudly. "I will see you all tonight to continue your extra credit." The woman turned and strode off.
"Extra credit?" Arkin demanded eagerly.
"That's a code word," Harry stated.
"For what?" Arkin asked.
"For she's going to beat the snot out of us for a long time tonight," Ron answered. "This is going to suck."
"You deserve it," Arkin stated. There was a moment of contemplation from all the others and Arkin sucked in a breath as he realized that he may have been too honest. He did that sometimes without thinking.
"Yeah," Harry grunted finally. "That's fair." There was a grunt of consent from the others and Arkin's breath rushed out in a sigh of relief. He felt a hand on his arm and jumped, only to see Hermione squinting at him.
"Are you okay?"
"I thought I was too honest and insulted everyone," he admitted.
"Nah," Ron rumbled. "We're friends. You can be honest with us. If we don't like it, we can fight about it." The redhead let out a huff as Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "You know, in a few years when you're big and strong and have gotten into a couple of life-or-death brawls to get your experience up."
"Why does everyone keep thinking that I'm going to get into trouble?" Arkin demanded.
"Because this is Hogwarts," Ron stated, "and things tend to happen here."
"Usually to me," Harry added.
"And because you didn't listen to me," Neville added. "I tried to warn you." The grouchy prefect glanced around for a moment. "Will you be okay for our study group this afternoon?"
"Sure," Harry replied. "We'll make the most of it, since we might be dead by tomorrow."
"To be fair, "we might be dead by tomorrow," is not too far beyond our normal," Hermione countered. She shot Arkin another look. "Do you still want to be friends?"
"My dad did always say that I should find a group of people that I would fight and die with," Arkin stated.
"No!" Harry rumbled. "There will be no dying here. I will die before I let anyone else die."
"I'm going to kill you if you die first," Ron shot back. Arkin settled in and began eating his breakfast. Being surrounded by a bunch of rowdy, half-drunk people angrily arguing about each other's safety was just how his dad's monthly party with his Royal Marines buddies usually ended. It was a warm, familiar place to be.
(:ii:)
Cedric stared at the gaggle of Gryffindors spread out across the ground, sunning and chatting amongst themselves. "So, what are you doing?" he asked.
"It's a study group," Harry said quickly.
"Yeah, but what's actually going on?" Cedric pressed.
"This is actually a study group," Hermione stated firmly.
"Neville's here!" Harry added. "That means that we have to be totally normal!"
"Don't you use me as an alibi," Neville growled before turning to the Head Boy. "This is a normal study group. We are trying to learn enough to pass our Defense OWLs since our instructor has decided that we should practice the practical aspects on our own. . .sort of."
"Refusing to teach practical aspects in classroom does kind of imply that we should pursue it on our own," Hermione added.
"And nobody asked me?" Cedric asked. All the students looked at him. "I am the Head Boy and I have already passed my OWLs, you know? Even got an O."
"Please don't give them an excuse to abandon me," Harry whispered.
"Anyway," Cedric turned and cupped his hands over his mouth. "They're studying for the Defense OWLs!"
"Really?" Hannah Abbot asked in shock. The group comprising most of the Hufflepuff fifth year drifted over.
"But that's normal," Susan Bones added.
"We can be normal," Harry snapped in irritation.
"You'd better," Neville growled.
"Mind if we join you then?" Susan pressed, ignoring Harry's peevishness.
"Of course!" Hermione announced. "The more the merrier."
"The more she gets to boss around," Ron whispered to Harry. The last Potter shrugged, but didn't feel any compulsion to argue.
"We're about to begin studying counter curses," Hermione stated, eyeing the redhead with a look that made it clear he was going to have more problems than just Minerva latter.
"Should be easy for you, right Harry?" Justin Finch-Fletchley commented teasingly. "You're the most likely to get cursed here."
"I don't know anything about counter curses," Harry admitted. That set off a wave of curiosity in the gathered students.
"What do you do when someone tries to curse you?" Parvati asked.
"Usually duck and start throwing spells," Harry said. "I mean, counter curses seem really complicated." He glanced at Hermione. "Does every curse have a counter curse or are there a few general counter curses?"
"Uh. . ." Hermione began. She clapped her hands suddenly and made them all jump. "Well, that's why we're here, isn't it?"
"So, what would you do if you got attacked by a bunch of people?" Justin pressed.
"Sleeping charm," Harry stated automatically. His eyes bulged and he shot a panicked look at Neville. Shockingly, the other man wasn't packing up his bags.
"Sleeping charm?" he ventured, the words almost forcing themselves out. "That's it? Not something way more dangerous?"
"If you're being attacked by a bunch of people, that means you've been ambushed," Harry lectured. "You have two options: escape or punch through. You need a spell that can be cast in an area. Most spells that can be used offensively have a very narrow field of effect. You can throw out a piercing charm, but that would affect only one enemy while the rest of them curse you. A sleeping charm can be cast in a wide arc."
"So, it would put everyone to sleep?" Dean asked.
"No, sleeping charms aren't that powerful," Harry answered. "It would cause a momentary grogginess that can buy you time to either run or begin throwing around more powerful spells." He glanced at Ron, Hermion and Luna and they all nodded at his suggestion. He glanced back at the other students and saw them all staring at him. Hell, a group of Ravenclaws and even a few Slytherins has come over while he was talking. "What?"
"That was extremely informative and well thought out," Cedric stated. "Wow. I kind of forgot that you've actually been trained to fight by a few really scary people." Harry shrugged helplessly. "So, how about Hermione and I really hit the book stuff and you, Ron and Luna can handle some practical defense tips?"
"No!" Harry said quickly, shooting a glance at Neville. "We have to be normal!" The last Longbottom let out a long sigh and scrubbed his face with his hands. He finally glanced up with an annoyed look.
"Practical defense tips are normal in a defense study group," he said finally. "We are here for practical study after all. Having someone with actual experience teaching things from outside the book would be a. . .boon."
"Why not fifty/fifty?" Cedric ventured. "We can spend half the time reviewing for the OWLs and half the time on real world stuff." Harry shot another look at Neville.
"You know, you don't have to impress me, right?" Neville asked.
"Uh, yeah," Harry admitted, "but I really want to. I don't like being ignored." Neville let out a long sigh of aggravation.
"And now I feel guilty as sin for depriving you of student contact," he groaned. "This is okay Harry."
"You'll tell me if it gets not okay?" Harry ventured.
"I'll tell you if it's not okay," Neville stated firmly. "God, why do I feel like I'm the bad guy now?"
"You're not!" Harry insisted quickly.
"That's not helping," Neville said.
"I'm sorry!"
"Stop!"
(:ii:)
"Well," Albus began as he observed the massive group of students gathered outside on the Hogwarts grounds. "That is impressive."
"That is terrifying," Minerva whispered. "No good will come of this." Albus sighed.
"Minerva, it is a study group," he stated. "This is a good thing."
"No," Minerva replied in a haunted tone. Albus turned away to roll his eyes in peace and glanced at the goblet of "pumpkin juice" on his desk. He looked back at the students though his office window and noticed an individual stomping her way towards them.
"Oh?" And then he and Minerva were behind her. "Hello Dolores." The woman stumbled in shock and fell on her face. She shot back up and whipped around, ready to unleash some sort of retribution. At least, she was until she saw him towering over her cheerfully.
"Headmaster!"
"Yes," Albus replied. Minerva was still rather disoriented from their transit. "Lovely day, isn't it? It's the perfect weather to have a study group outside, wouldn't you agree?"
"Study group?" Dolores sputtered.
"Ah, if only my students had been so interested in the topics I taught," Albus murmured wistfully. "Instead, all their study groups happened the night before the OWLs and consisted mostly of crying and panicking. I did my best, truly, but as they say, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. I consider you to be very blessed." That left the woman sputtering for a moment as she tried to collect her thoughts.
"Actually Headmaster, I don't approve of this at all," she finally stated.
"Oh?" Albus wondered. "What don't you approve of?"
"He is promoting violence!" Dolores announced. Albus glanced up at the group. Lip reading was a useful skill. Lying even more so.
"I see," he stated. "Although, we will have to agree to disagree on the violence of running away."
"What?"
"Oh, yes. Mister Potter is giving tips on the best manner of running away," Albus said, squinting for effect. "Of course, he seems to prefer to use "breaking contact" instead." The woman's eyes narrowed and he could see the gears turning.
"He isn't qualified to teach!"
"Alas, that is true," Albus replied. "Trust me, if he was, I wouldn't have had to inconvenience such a notable ministry employee as yourself."
"Mister Potter is more than qualified to guide a study group," Minerva intervened suddenly, "as are his friends, especially Mister Diggory. We are very careful when picking a Head Boy or Head Girl."
"I see," Dolores spat out. "I will trust in your. . .impartial judgement." They watched her storm off.
"I am so glad to see that you've changed your mind on the study group, Minerva!" Albus announced cheerfully. His deputy whipped around on him with terrible fury, but he was already back in his office sipping pumpkin juice. He leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up.
One didn't get to be his age by making enemies.
However, poking a tiger every once in a while, was just the spice necessary to make such a long life worth living.
Albus's gaze dropped to a role of parchment that Hermione had delivered just after lunch. She had mentioned something about getting Ron to ramble. That left Albus chuckling. He rather strongly believed that getting the youngest male Weasley into a state where he would "ramble" was very much responsible for their poor condition this morning.
He broke the seal and laughed as he noticed what started in Hermione's normal precise handwriting had become a sloppy mess by the end.
His jovial mood fled as he began piecing together the words.
"Well. . .shit."
(:ii:)
"This is bad," Harry stated.
"We've been here before," Hermione countered.
"Not like this," Ron argued quietly. "Did you see the Inevitable at dinner? Something is wrong. Somebody pissed her off. This is bad."
"She's a professor," Arkin said, completely failing to show any sort of survival instincts. Luna rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a said smile. "What?"
"This is bad," the blonde said with finality.
"You three are so dramatic," Hermione groaned before shoving the door before them open. They filed into the room and froze as they spotted Minerva and Fillius sitting calmly and sipping tea.
"I forgot that," Ron admitted.
"I didn't," Luna stated from behind him.
"Good evening," Filius stated, rising to his feet. Behind him the easy chair he had been sitting on faded into nothing. "I do hope you're prepared."
"Arkin?" Harry ventured.
"Yes?" the young boy asked uncertainly.
"Go stand by Professor McGonagall."
"No!" Arkin insisted. "I'm going to fight with you."
"This isn't going to be a fight," Luna said simply.
"Go stand by Professor McGonagall," Harry repeated. "We'll speak about listening to experience later."
"But. . ."
"Now," Ron interrupted, "and we'll add survival instincts to that talk." The youngest student pouted but made his way over to the professor. The older woman poured him a cup and settled in with a rather smug look on her face. Fillius just watched him walk by before turning and nodding to the rest of them in approval.
"Well," the diminutive man began, "when you're ready." Luna took the initiative by throwing up her hands and sprinting out of the room shrieking. Harry took a deep breath.
"Think that'll work?" he ventured.
"Nah, he'd hunt us down," Ron grunted.
"Did she just use us a bait?" Harry asked.
"More like a delaying action," Ron said.
"Any way out of this?" Harry pressed.
"By his good grace," Ron replied. "Well, might as well get started. The sooner the pain starts, the sooner the pain ends."
"Ideas?" Harry wondered.
"Only one."
"Shock and awe?" Hermione asked.
"Shock and awe," Ron agreed.
"Is it going to work?" Harry asked.
"No," Ron admitted, "but it will look cool and maybe we can make the Inevitable spill her tea for sticking us here."
"Good enough."
(:ii:)
Poppy glanced at her watch. It had been ten minutes since the last explosion. "Well, they lasted longer than I thought." Her new assistant said nothing. She was torn on his taciturn personality versus Harry's continuous whining and snark. With a shrug, she pushed the doors open and frowned as she came upon Filius planting one foot square on Harry's armored back and pushing the young man into the ground. The room had fared little better than her assistant and was covered in craters and scorch marks.
Normally, Harry would have been able to throw the smaller man off, but he very much looked like he had had the fight beaten out of him.
"Tenacity is wonderful trait, Mister Potter," Filius stated, "but this fight is over. Stay down."
"Yeah," Harry wheezed before collapsing.
"Filius," Poppy stated. The small professor quickly removed his foot with a sheepish smile.
"Sorry Poppy," he said quickly. "I'm sure that you understand that some people need to be shown when they are defeated. For their own good of course!" Poppy stared him down for a long moment before turning to Vincent.
"Well, Mister Crabbe, this is your assessment. What are you doing?"
"Looking for threats," Vincent rumbled.
"Do you see any?" Poppy prodded.
"Yes," the man grunted simply, eyeing Filius.
"Noted," Poppy replied. "Next."
"They all seem to be breathing," Vincent answered. "Heal Potter."
"Why?" Poppy asked.
"He's a more experience healer and he's awake," Vincent replied. "He can help me heal him and then I have two healers." Poppy hummed in approval. She hadn't considered that. The perks of working with amateurs versus professionals.
Amateurs got creative. Professionals fell back on proven patterns.
"Excellent. Always adapt to the situation. Keep in mind that you won't always know your patients." Vincent grunted and made his way over to Harry.
"I'm fine," Harry wheezed.
"You're on the floor," Vincent pointed out.
"I'm fine on the floor," Harry countered. "Ron has a cramping hex on his abdomen." Vicent nodded.
"Acknowledge, Mister Crabbe," Poppy called.
"Weasley has a cramping charm on his abdomen," Vincent stated as he approached the redhead who was curled into a ball on the ground and occasionally twitching in agony. The Slytherin performed the right counter spell and Ron flopped out with a gasp.
"Hermione was hit with a dissociative charm," Harry added. Vincent frowned and glanced back at Poppy. She just shrugged before turning her ire on Filius.
"Wasn't me," the small man squeaked.
"Simple spell, but not well known," Harry added, "finite incantatem will work."
"Finite incantatem will work," Vincent repeated as he moved to the witch, his wand already moving. The young woman who had been staring at the ceiling blankly immediately shot upright, her wand pointing at everything.
"Dissociative charm," Ron called. "Your dissociative charm."
"Oh," Hermione grunted. Her legs buckled and she dropped down to her knees hard.
"Luna's around here somewhere under my invisibility cloak," Harry stated. "Try. . ."
"Mister Potter," Poppy interrupted. "He will learn nothing if you give him all the answers." Vincent hesitated for a long moment before casting a summoning charm and catching the cloak as it flew at him. Poppy nodded as the large young man cast a general diagnostic spell that was followed by another finite incantatem and a gasping student that had been released from whatever ailed her. "So, have we all learned anything?"
"I learned that Professor Flitwick is a sadistic monster that uses reflection spells to turn your own magic on you. You as in the particular person who cast the spell." Ron stated. He was lying flat on his back. "Did anyone see him throw anything else?"
"Nope," Harry replied from a similar position. "I saw that. Now, I'm just wondering if that was just meant to humiliate us."
"Humiliate is a strong word, Mister Potter," Filius stated. "I was merely demonstrating that all your strength and teamwork will still struggle in the face of an experienced opponent."
"Is there an experienced opponent like you?" Harry wondered, "because I have yet to run into one. Probably wouldn't be here if I did."
"Worst case scenarios Mister Potter," Filius stated. "Now, do you lot have anything to say?"
"See you next week?" Ron ventured. Filius's smile could have lit up the room.
"Indeed!" he announced. "Do study reflection spells before then, or else I will have to get even more creative in who gets hit by what spell from which caster." The charms professor strutted out of the room and Poppy made her way over to her first assistant.
"Anything broken?" she ventured.
"My pride," Harry admitted "and maybe my breastplate?"
"Shattered, actually," Poppy stated. She knelt and banished his cuirass to keep the jagged bits of metal away from flesh. She studied the non-mail parts of his arming doublet for a moment before nodding to herself that there was no blood. She gave him a good prod anyway.
"Not broken doesn't mean not bruised!" Harry squawked, nearly coming off the floor.
"Smart people would take this as a lesson and quit," Poppy commented.
"Lucky people have the option to quit," Harry counted. His head flopped about looking at his friends. "Anyone need to go to the hospital wing?"
"I need to go to two weeks in Monte Carlo," Ron managed.
"Beach rest," Luna whimpered.
"If I prescribed beach rest, you wouldn't learn," Poppy stated. "Have fun in classes tomorrow." There was a piteous moan from the broken bodies on the floor. "Now, off to work Mister Potter."
"Yes Madame Pomfrey." The man managed to flop onto his stomach and worm his way to a wall where he pulled himself slowly up to his feet.
"You're an idiot," Vincent announced suddenly. Harry wheeled dazedly around to glare at the larger man for a long moment.
"Actually, yeah. That's fair. Where did I go wrong in life?"
"You made an evil immortal-ish wizard mad at you before you were born," Luna called, seemingly enjoying staying flat on her back.
"Huh," Harry grunted. "I really shouldn't have done that. What was I thinking?" He held out his hand and Vincent jumped as he caught the Sword of Gryffindor. He swung the blade down and sheathed it without ever stopping his grumbling.
"Don't look so impressed," Poppy ordered. "You'll just feed his ego."
"Ego?" Harry asked. "I don't have an ego, not any more. I just have a giant bruise where it used to be."
-End
(:ii:)
Uncle's drunken rambles. Hey guys. So. . .guess who takes one vacation a year, somehow always schedules it on the first weekend and constantly forgets you can't add a new chapter on mobile. Yeah. Yeah. It's this guy. This guy right here. The one with the beard and the face.
So. Bud Light, on top of being shitty beer, is woke now. Which, can we all stop using that word? It literally means absolutely nothing any more. I mean, I'm woke for being an old-school libertarian and demanding shit like liberty and justice for all and for studying American history. Anyway, Modelo has become the top selling beer as a result of this protest.
Wait. Hold on a minute. I drink Modelo. Am I anti-trans? Have I been anti-trans ever since Fat Tire decided that its amber ale was a little too dark and needed a little paling? Wait. I drink Modelo Negra. I imagine most of the protesters are drinking Especial. Americans don't seem to be able to handle darker beers. Am I still protesting?
Where do people find the time and energy man? I'm not going to lie. I don't know where these people are hanging out that trans folks are apparently crawling out of the bushes at them. I mean, I've been around for a couple decades and I haven't met anyone that's trans. Or, if I did, I didn't care enough to remember.
Are they stalking down trans people and following them around just to get mad at them for being?
Can't say I'd be surprised. Back in my day, you young'uns, we had don't ask don't tell. One of the Marines in my company decided another Marine was gay and stalked him for months to get evidence of him being gay. It only ended when the "gay" Marine, or as we call them "sailors", tried to get a restraining order and command had to step in. . .you know, to try to keep themselves from looking bad for ignoring complaints about what was very obviously a problem.
I mean, was he gay? Fucking right he was. He was as straight as a hula hoop and everyone knew it. He also had two tours under his belt, was highly competent and an overall chill dude. Stalker guy was a boot that had just graduated boot as a 72 day reservist, meaning he wasn't combat trained (myeh, pogs are never combat trained. Shuthafuckup.) or MOS schooled, and nobody liked him because he was a dick that looked down on everyone for drinking and smoking despite the fact that he also drank and smoked trying to fit in. He was literally turbo boot and that is not an insult any Marine would throw around lightly.
Them's fightin' words.
I am not actually making that shit up. I know. Fisherman and veterans. They love to liven up stories. This actually happened. I didn't even say: "No shit, there I was" which is how you know you're about to get a lot of bullshit.
FUCK IT OMAKE!
"Ah, good morning Minerva," Albus stated brightly as he caught the woman stalking down the hallway. "I see that you're interested in Professor Potter's first day as well. Although, don't you have your own class?"
"I told them I'd break their knees if I came back and anything was amiss," Minerva growled.
"They do know that professors aren't allowed to physically punish students anymore, right?" Albus pressed. He rather hoped the students were aware of their rights.
"Oh, they know," Minerva stated, "and they know that school rules won't protect them from me." Albus pondered that as they strolled. Well, he strolled. She stormed. He couldn't go after the woman for making threats, could he?
Probably, but he just couldn't be bothered. He doubted the Governors or the government wanted Minerva's attention either.
As they drew closer to the Defense classroom, they both began to hear the sounds of battle and their pace increased rapidly until they were running. Albus threw open the door and Minerva poked her head in under his arm.
"Hah! You call that trying to kill me?" Harry shrieked as he dodged, ducked, dipped, dived and dodged between spells. "You couldn't accidentally kill a fly like that. I'd already murdered the shit out a dark lord and was getting ready to have a go at his horcrux by the time I was your age!"
"I'm not trying to kill you!" a second year sobbed as she clutched the wand that was spewing a pillar of fire. She shook it, probably trying to cease her attack, but that only made the inferno follow Harry.
"Is that with a w or a h, Professor?" one of the other students asked as he took notes.
"Huh," Albus grunted. "Maybe the Defense professor doesn't try to kill Harry every year. Maybe the Defense job tries to kill the professor and Harry happened to be the most efficient means to do so." He ushered Minerva back and slowly drew the door closed. "Whoops! That was a miscalculation on my part!"
"Are you planning on doing anything about it?" Minerva demanded.
"I will try to find a replacement immediately," Albus said firmly.
"How immediately?" Minerva asked suspiciously.
"I shall post the position at the end of the school year," Albus stated.
"So, we're leaving Potter until summer?"
"Let's be honest," Albus replied, "Mister Potter is the most likely candidate to make it to the summer and I'd hate to throw some innocent soul into the meat grinder."
"Mister Potter is innocent."
"Would you like to take the job?" Albus ventured. That caught his deputy flat footed. After a moment of starting to talk and trailing off, she shrugged her shoulders.
"So, how can we keep him there after graduation? I very much doubt his solicitors would fall for the old "lifetime contract" deal."
"Ah, yes. . .tenure. Such an honor. Such an achievement. Such. . .a thing that I did not understand when I accepted it to this school," Albus mumbled. "At lease they didn't get me with an afterlife contract like they did poor Cuthbert."
-End
Omake notes. I bought a box of shotgun slugs without paying attention. They're 12 gauge 2 ¾ doing 1800fps.
WHO NEEDS THIS? WHY DOES IT EXIST? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST USE 3 INCH?
What is this? A shotgun shell for ants?. . .I mean masochists? Or masochistic aunts?
What?