Chapter 52: It's Time

It would seem reality may have finally given him a break, and the plan to take a page out of Sirius's book—that is to say, simply brazen their way through things and hope it all works out—had actually… well, worked out.

Mostly.

All things considered, October had been fairly peaceful. Quite cold, too, at least according to Neville, Laura, Harry, Ron, and any other student yet to figure out simple magic tricks to stay warm. Sans, of course, wasn't particularly bothered by the chill air: one of the perks of being a skeleton.

And one of the downsides, given how many concerned looks he got just by dressing comfortably. He'd had to start wearing more layers just to keep people from asking too many worried questions.

Ignoring that minor inconvenience, though, day-to-day life was going pretty well. A lot of stuff had, at long last, finally settled down.

Just in time for it to all get shaken up again, of course, given the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were arriving tomorrow to set off the Triwizard Tournament the day after… but, hey. Sans would take what he could get.

For one thing, last week the ghosts had finally returned to their usual haunts. Even if some of them still gave him looks, a curious glance is a big improvement over stalking him through the castle. That said, there still remains a small number of them that must be avoided whenever possible.

The Fat Friar, in particular, remained a persistent menace during mealtimes—always trying to float over and get in a curious poke. At least until Cedric Diggory caught him at it, and the prefect gave him such a talking to that the ghost would actually mind his own business for at least a day or two.

Much appreciated.

In fact, Sans had two ghost defenders; Laura had taken that on as well. Which was nice and all, except that she had also decided to recruit others. And while he didn't mind if his definitely real condition was revealed to Neville and Luna, the fact that a good number of other people had overheard wasn't exactly ideal.

He supposed it could have been a lot worse; at least the nurse hadn't felt compelled to call him in again for a check up. The Hogwarts rumor mill being what it is, his peculiar magic sensitivity was known to nearly everyone by the end of the day.

Laura hadn't meant for that to happen, of course, and had spent a good portion of the following week apologizing to him whenever she caught somebody staring.

Ah, fate save him from well-intentioned friends.

On that note, Sans still found it a little odd that he actually had a group of people willing to put up with him. It wasn't that he had been unpopular in the Underground—his stand-up gigs sold out fairly frequently, in fact—but the number of people who would spend time with him that weren't either his brother or semi-intoxicated was a little sparse sometimes.

The king was a nice guy, but usually their meetings tended to be all business. Grillby was always willing to lend an ear—or whatever fire monster equivalent—but he was always so busy running his bar. Talking through a door could technically be considered socializing, but he hadn't actually seen Toriel for at least a few loops. Alphys was a good friend, but, again, he hadn't seen her in a while.

Maybe he should have tried harder back then, but…

Well.

It's too late for that.

He had to focus on now.

Sirius-as-golden-retriever was around for most of the day, naturally, though he would occasionally wander off to spend more time with his godson. Laura was probably in second place for hanging-out-with-Sans, given how many classes they shared. Neville and Luna would often join the group during lunch and free periods.

It was all very bright and noisy—though none of them were particularly noisy people—and Sans found their time hanging out to be… nice. Hard to put into words, really: fulfilling, perhaps, or maybe just fun.

Cassius was trickier, but he'd often show up in their designated scheming classroom to read or study. Other than that, sometimes Sans could find him in surprisingly well-hidden corners of the library.

(Sans'd yet to properly pull him into the full friend group, but he was working on that.)

As for classes, Sans thought they were going pretty well. He hadn't had any more major slip ups, at least—though, as with the ghosts, he did occasionally get looks from the professors. Especially from one particular too-observant Potions Master.

But Sans could handle that. He could even turn it to an advantage for all the students: since Snape was trying to puzzle him out, he wasn't (to a degree) keeping up the evil-professor schtick. Which, admittedly, had a bit too many hard edges and dark smirks to be a complete act... but Sans knew what deep cover looked like when he saw it.

The guy might be an inconsiderate prick, but, contrary to the beliefs of most of the student body, he wasn't an evil inconsiderate prick.

Just… highly unpleasant. And a bully.

Still, other than the distraction benefits for the rest of the students, annoying and befuddling the perpetually gloomy professor was downright fun. Severus Snape really needed to lighten up.

And if Sirius helped to set up a few pranks that would add some pizzazz to Snape's life in a way that's a bit more literal, that's just to be expected. Honestly, glitter bombs were becoming something of a signature technique for the wizard-turned-dog.

Potions had been canceled that day.

It was amazing.

A real shame that nobody else got to see the aftereffects, because shifting rainbow glitter looks phenomenal on black fabric.

Anyway, the rest of his wizard classes were… alright.

Transfiguration and Charms were still tricky, but, since for him they were still mostly just bookwork, he could manage. History of Magic, when he bothered to show up, was a good time to nap. Astronomy was as disappointing as he had expected, based on the class he'd overheard that second night in the castle: not really anything more that just memorizing the positions and names of the stars. Herbology was still his favorite, somewhat surprisingly.

As for Defense Against the Dark Arts, well…

Fake-Eye was still a menace, of course, though he was also annoyingly well-received by the rest of the students. It could be said that the man was actually good at teaching—he kept his students focused and learning for the full class period—but, in Sans's opinion, some of his methods left much to be desired.

Goodness knows that Toriel would want to have words with him, if she could.

And plenty of words with Dumbledore, no doubt, along with the rest of the people organizing the Triwizard Tournament: she had very heated opinions on people willfully endangering children.

Outside of regular classes, the one-on-one tutoring sessions were a little more shaky on the secret-keeping front. The additional lessons were always some mix of stressful and genuinely helpful—though the latter of which was somewhat embarrassing to admit. At least Sans had managed to keep the majority if his oddities under wraps.

As far as he could tell, anyway.

Sure, Professor McGonagall had gotten more than a few glimpses of inexplicably controlled magic, regardless of wand usage. But only for little things, like the time he accidentally pulled a textbook down from a tall shelf with just a gesture. It had been a momentary lapse, and habit had gotten the better of him.

The trick had earned him a thoughtful look, and the lesson had veered toward discussion of wandless magic and how it worked. Professor McGonagall had said that wandless magic wasn't too strange, he supposed. His little slips were probably fine.

Hopefully.

With any luck.

Right now, though, Sans wasn't overly concerned with how many holes his cover story might have (most likely) gained in the past month and a half of wizard school. He was more interested in making a bit of hilarious chaos.

In related news, the prank of the rainbow entrance to the Great Hall, while long since faded from the door itself, was still ongoing all throughout the castle.

Shimmery rainbow handprints of all shapes and sizes started to show up in hallways, classrooms, bathrooms, staircases, dorms: literally anywhere in the school. They were even charmed to do different gestures, some of which were quite rude.

But the best part was that hardly anyone had actually made the connection between the two pranks. For Sans, it was a bit like watching people bump into wet paint, accidentally smear it onto everything else they touch, and then be baffled that suddenly there was paint everywhere.

The prank couldn't go on forever, though.

Cleaning up the shimmery handprints had actually become the go-to detention activity for many professors, though the marks were already fading on their own and would likely be entirely gone in under a week.

So, naturally, it was time for a new prank.

"Do you have the goods?" George asked.

In answer, Fred dramatically pulled out a small bag from his sleeve.

"ah right, the goods," Sans said. "the goods for this prank."

Fred nodded.

"the goods you've specifically charmed for this prank," he continued, grinning. "this prank's goods."

Now both twins were giving him a look.

"those goods?"

"…Yes."

"He's definitely quoting something," George stage-whispered to his brother.

"Also yes," replied Fred, tapping his chin thoughtfully with one of the tassels on the bag he'd taken out. "But what is he quoting? And, more to the point, why?"

Sans shrugged. "the context was a little off, but no point letting that get in the way of a good quote." He paused, considered, and added, "or… a near quote."

Actually, seeing as the film probably hadn't come out yet and might not even come to exist in this dimension, it was up for some debate if it could even be considered a quote at all.

"maybe not really a quote, but a good reference at least," he decided.

"Whatever you say, Sans," said George, shaking his head.

Taking the bag from Fred, Sans tipped the contents out into his hand: three sticks of chalk clattered out. He held up the blue one, examining the working of its enchantment with a careful eye.

"welp." Sans tucked the three items away into his pocket and handed back the bag. "i'll make sure to pass these on. i'm sure cass will be thrilled."

"We really must meet this 'Cass' fellow properly."

"The last time we ran into you two," Fred added, "we were much too busy to stay and chat."

"And the Quidditch pitch is no place to make friends."

"At least not with people from the other team!"

"Well, of course!"

Sans snorted. "i'll see what i can do, but no promises."

"It's not every day that you find a decent Slytherin, after all," George said, thoughtfully. "The only one I've ever met is in a painting on the sixth floor, so that doesn't much count."

"well, you know…" Sans paused, grinning, "cass is a good guy, but hiss sense of humor is still a little snake-y."

Fred groaned. "Oh, not this again."

"We can serpent-ly help him with that!"

"George."

"Fine, fine." He raised his hands in momentary surrender. "It's just a joke, not need to bite my head off."

Tossing his hands into the air, Fred started walking away.

"Later, Sans," George called back, already running to catch up with his brother. "We're counting on you!"

"later."

Handing off the yellow chalk to Laura had been easy: he just slipped it to her with a note in one of their classes. She'd read it, shot him an excited grin, and quickly stuffed it into one of her pockets.

Simple as that.

As for the green chalk, that took a bit more doing.

And there was the key, innocently studying in a quiet library nook. Cassius had several thick books stacked to the side, one open in front of him, a few sheets of parchment on the table, and a quill resting in an ink pot within easy reach.

Sliding into the seat opposite him, Sans opened with: "i have terrible news."

The Slytherin paused, glanced up just enough to spot his broad grin, then pinched the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. "Oh no."

"oh yes."

"I take it you're not here to research properties of dragon blood with me, are you?"

From his spot under the table, Sirius gave a small bark—quietly, since they were in the library—and shook his head.

"i have a proposition for ya."

"Do you now?" The sentence had the shape of a question, but it was definitely more of a vaguely amused statement. "I should hope that, given our prior experience, this time it has nothing to do with glitter."

"it has nothing to do with glitter."

Cassius crossed his arms, and his expression was solidly skeptical.

"no, seriously," said Sans—cue amused canine huff. "and it's not just for one target, unless you count the entire school as 'one', which i suppose you could."

"…I'm listening."

He took out the green chalk. "take this and draw a line at the entrance to each dorm section. apparently that's the max range for the charm."

"And that charm is what, exactly?"

"nothing much." Sans shrugged. "we just figured everyone might be getting a bit tired of their usual colors."

Considering that for a moment, Cassius nodded to the crest on his robes. "I assume you're talking about these?"

"righto." Sans nodded. "i'm handling ravenclaw, laura's taking hufflepuff, and… well, you know who's on it for gryffindor."

"Quite." The Slytherin sighed, and slowly shook his head. "This is such a bad idea…" he muttered.

"lighten up, cass." Sans chuckled a little. "it's a harmless prank, and nobody has to know you were involved."

With a deadpan look, Cassius stated, "The twins know."

By the edge in that distinct emphasis, there was quite a bit more to that concern than just the possible culpability in this prank.

But, for better or worse, it was much too late to keep the twins from learning of the Slytherin's new status as a not-evil snake. A few weeks ago, the prankster pair had all but ambushed them in the empty classroom as they ducked in to hide from Filch.

(Since then, Sans put a bit more defenses on the door. Even if they were just studying.)

There had been some confusion where they thought Cassius was bullying Sans, which honestly would have made a good cover… except that both of them had been unable to swallow a surprised laugh at the thought.

All completely accidental, but there wasn't anything to be done about it now.

The twins now knew that Cassius was out of step with the rest of his house, and given the reputation Slytherin had earned over the years for how they treated outsiders… his concern for that possibility was unfortunately warranted.

"it's fine," Sans reassured, choosing to set aside the other worries. "we're all accomplices here."

"Well, isn't that just grand."

He did take the green chalk in the end, though.

=X=X=X=

The following morning, Sans stepped off the peaceful tower roof he had spent the night on and into the shelter of the curtains on his too-massive four-poster bed. He could plainly hear that the dorm room was bustling with activity, and no few sharp exclamations of alarm.

"What in Merlin's—" somebody in another room yelped, loud enough to be heard through the walls, "My robes've gone yellow!"

Pushing past his heavy curtains, Sans surveyed the damage. The boy two beds clockwise from him—Stewart Ackerley, if he recalled correctly—had strewn all of his clothes across the floor, staring flabbergasted at the green and silver trimmings.

"ey, green team," Sans remarked, holding up the newly verdant emblem on his rode.

Stewart glanced his way with a stumped look. "You seem... awfully calm."

"it's just a color, isn't it? a good change of pace."

"…I suppose." He reluctantly put on his newly green-trimmed robes, then paused—waiting for something. "Yeah, no, this just feels wrong."

Sirius—who now proudly wore a red tie—trotted over, circling the boy twice to get the full picture. Then he sat down square in front of him, head tilted to one side, quite unconcerned.

"Uhm… Good doggie?"

"that's paddy," Sans provided; he really hadn't spent that much time socializing with his dorm mates. "to translate, that was prolly something like—" he adopted a fake accent, one that was actually a fairly passable imitation of the wizard, "—'looks fine to me'."

"O… Okay?"

"which makes sense, for him," Sans continued, "since dogs are color blind."

That fact seemed to distract Stewart from his nervous fiddling, though his new green tie was already hopelessly wrinkled. "Really?" he asked. "Why? And how did anyone ever even figure that out?"

"pretty sure it has something to do with how their eyes are put together." Sans shrugged. "and i'm not sure how specifically, but there've probably been experiments fueled by tasty treat rewards."

The dogs of Snowdin had just told him, of course, back when he was a much younger skeleton. But humans don't usually have that option, and honestly the canine sentries would probably have preferred the treat-experiment anyway.

Stewart blanched. "Experiments? Do you mean… muggle experiments?"

"uh, yeah?" Honestly, some wizards seemed to have the strangest misconceptions about normal people. "maybe like, here's a few dog bowls, and if the dog chooses the different colored one they get a treat."

"…Oh." The boy seemed suddenly uncertain. "That doesn't sound too bad…"

Leaving Stewart to think that over—and clean up the mess he'd made when he'd upturned his trunk and scattered his clothes everywhere—Sans stepped out of the dorm room.

And directly into a veritable mob of students, all comparing their new colors in a flurry of activity that seemed to be doing very little other than block the staircase. When he finally maneuvered his way to the common room, he spotted some of the upperclassmen apparently trying to reverse the changes.

There was a colorful poof from that direction.

"Did it work?"

The group leaned forward, eager, but when the magical dust settled it revealed that the tie had only gone from yellow to red.

"Rats."

"this is a bit more reaction than i had expected."

Sirius snorted, plainly claiming that he'd known all along.

"or is there something else about these bits of decorative fabric?" Holding up his loose tie so he could consider it more closely, Sans didn't spot any changes other than the new color.

For the rest of the day, it was really funny to see just how much the simple color swap had thrown off some of the students. The Gryffindors in particular were very displeased about the loss of their signature red and gold. Those that had been given green instead were positively livid.

The same could be said for the Slytherins, of course, but in reverse.

Hufflepuff fared best, as they really didn't seem to care about the change all that much, and the Ravenclaws main point of concern—after the surprise had worn off—became figuring out how it had been done in the first place.

The only time it was really an issue was right at the end of the day, after classes ended a bit early so the students could greet the arriving guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Organizing students by house was kind of silly—and certainly a bit trickier—when the house colors had been so thoroughly mixed up.

Professor Flitwick was doing his best to corral the rest of Ravenclaw House into an orderly group, with assistance from the prefects to help make up for some of his… visibility shortcomings.

"This way, come along now!" the diminutive professor called, trying to keep his students' attention by waving his brightly lit wand as high as he could manage. "Single file! First years in the front, please!"

The Hogwarts mob was collected up on the castle steps: first years in the front, second years next, and so on until the professors in the back.

Standing in the (allegedly) chill air outside, surrounded by students and their mismatched colors, Sans wasn't sure where exactly he should be looking. These were wizards, after all, and there's less than no reason to expect them to arrive via such mundane routes as the actual road.

There was a lot of discussion about how the other schools planned on arriving: broomsticks or by Portkey both seemed to be popular options. And somebody was loudly certain that standing around out here was a complete waste, because the other schools were only going to magic themselves directly inside.

Waiting was pretty boring.

"what's your bet, paddy?" asked Sans quietly, and got a few quiet barks in return. "oh, good one. wouldn't have considered—" He cut himself off, catching sight of something over the Forbidden Forest. "okay, that's pretty neato."

Sans, who had the benefit of having no eyes to be hampered by the fading light, had been the first to spot the flying carriages. The headmaster, despite the fact that he was at the back of the crowd, took second place.

"Aha!" Dumbledore called out. "Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

The powder-blue carriage was gigantic—easily the size of his old house—and it was drawn by a dozen winged horses that were each much bigger than typical non-monster horses. Golden accents reflected the lights of the castle, and Sans was pretty sure there was a coat of arms emblazoned on its side.

Schnazzy.

Most of the front row students jumped back as the carriage came in fast, but Sans just sort of stepped to the side. Landing with a colossal cacophony of hoofs on cobble, followed shortly by another loud crash as the giant wheels made contact, the carriage careened to a stop.

The huge horse closest to him stomped its hooves—each the size of his own skull—and eyed him with an almost derisive stare.

Sirius… well, it wasn't a whine, but it wasn't quite a bark either.

"wow, what a rude horse."

Now, Sans didn't actually speak horse. He knew some monsters who did, and he could catch a phrase here or there, but he was by no means fluent. But from the way the horse tossed its head back at his reply, he'd guess it was surprised.

"fittingly showy for wizard standards," Sans muttered, stepping back among the ranks of students.

Sirius snorted, sounding distinctly like he disagreed—the horse had not left a positive impression.

At some point during the horse confrontation, Dumbledore had managed to get to the front of the Hogwarts mob to offer his fellow headmaster a greeting. And Sans abruptly realized that the Beauxbatons headmistress was very much sized to match her carriage—the lady was probably over eleven feet tall.

Quite impressive.

"My dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore greeted warmly. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," she returned, and Sans immediately decided to refer to the headmaster as such whenever given the chance. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils," the headmistress said, making a sweeping gesture behind her.

The Beauxbatons students were all dressed in powder-blue silks, and most of them looked quite displeased about it—apparently wherever their school was, warm robes were not part of the usual late October fashion. There were a few scarves or shawls in there, but even with Sans's limited understanding of weather-appropriate clothing, he could tell it wasn't enough.

The two headmasters exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then the Madame led her students inside the castle (where, unfortunately for them, it was only marginally warmer).

Of course, the Hogwarts crowd still had to stay outside and keep waiting.

Which was super interesting.

Definitely not boring at all.

After a few minutes of staring off into space, Sirius suddenly perked up. He tilted his head to one side, focused, listening intently to something Sans couldn't hear. A long pause, then he woofed once.

"from the water?"

"The lake!" somebody else shouted, just a moment later. "Look at the lake!"

It started small: just the slightest disturbance as ripples played across the water. But those ripples quickly grew into tall waves, all pulling away from the center of the lake where the lake had begun to roil and twist. Dark as night, a tall mast and crossbeam pierced through the waves.

A ship rose out from the water, eerie as the depths of the ocean; as if it had sunk long ago, and was not pleased to be brought to the surface once more. Pale lights glimmered along it's length, and the water cascading off the deck caught some of that meager glow—just enough to make out its silhouette as the ship came to shore.

The anchor was dropped with a splash, and the gangplank lowered to the ground.

All in all, Sans thought this dramatic entrance was much cooler than the flying carriage schtick.

Most of the new arrivals seemed to be wearing similar shaggy furred cloaks—surprisingly dry—but one figure wore robes with sleek silvery fur. Presumably that was the headmaster of this third school.

As he led his students up to the castle, he called out, "Dumbledore! How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Positively blooming!" he cheerily replied, and the two of them shook hands. "Thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

The Durmstrang headmaster looked up at the castle, and his expression was fixed in an empty smile. His eyes remained calculative and cold.

"Dear old Hogwarts. How good it is to be here, how good…" Karkaroff briefly drifted off, then turned to wave forward one of his students. "Viktor, come along, into the warmth—"

The man said a few more things, but Sans ignored them in favor of watching the student, Viktor, who looked very much like he'd rather be anywhere else. He was pretty good at hiding it, too.

Which, somewhat worryingly, kind of reminded Sans of a certain Slytherin. And himself, actually.

Not a good sign. Teenagers don't usually need to get that good at hiding their emotions.

Suddenly there was a lot of excited whispering among the Hogwarts crowd, not to mention a good amount of giggling. Sans took a second to eavesdrop on some nearby chatter, and caught enough to figure that he hadn't really missed anything important.

As the students finally began to make their way inside, just for a moment, Sans held back. He sent one last glance to the ship and the carriage, then up at the lit windows along the castle walls.

"welp." Sans sighed, then nodded to himself. "let's get this started."

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

(And I especially don't own any of the dialog borrowed directly from the books.)

Wondering why the chapter was delayed by a month? So am I! For some reason it was just really fighting me, and I could never get more than a hundred words down at a time that I actually felt good about.
But oh well! Here we are, and late is certainly better than never!

Anyway, at long last, at Chapter 52 and 150,000+ words in, we have finally gotten to… Chapter 16 of the Goblet of Fire.
Huh.
Fun fact, in the book it states that the other school will arrive on "Friday the 30th of October", but in 1994 the 30th was a Sunday! I thought that was kind of interesting.

Today marks the fourth year since first posting on this story. That's crazy! Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story for so long!

Updates are on the first of the month.
Many thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites. It means so much to me, seeing that people are actually enjoying my story. I cannot thank you all enough!

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Stay safe out there! See ya on the flipside, everyone!