Strange Spotted Stones, a New Friend for Nagini and Grooming Kits
Harry almost regretted sending a Rednex CD with Draco's torture-the-werewolves package. Why? Because he had not expected the music to be listened to actively but Draco had absolutely exceeded his expectations. Apparently Draco – and likely his friends – had actually been listening to the Muggle music he sent them. Harry knew this because Voldemort had decided to get revenge for Harry's latest prank by sending the tune and lyrics to Cotton Eye Joe through their shared link in the early morning. Unfortunately, it seemed that Harry also had the propensity to sing in his sleep!
# If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I'd been married long time ago
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?
If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I'd been married long time ago
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?#
What made the situation even more unfortunate, was that Harry was rooming with Ron Weasley, as usual. The youngest Weasley, woken up by the irritating tune, gave his best friend a sharp kick in the ribs, which admittedly did wake the Boy-Who-Was-Getting-Some-Karma up.
"Mate, what the fuck are you singing?!" Ron hissed crankily.
"Eeeerm … Muggle song from America," Harry groaned, still clutching his side. "Did you have to bloody kick me that hard?"
"Sorry, mate. It's just you really can't sing while you're asleep," Ron responded, sounding half amused and half annoyed.
"Fair enough," Harry chuckled.
"Wait … why were you singing that song?" Ron sat up, his eyes wide.
He regretted asking the question the moment he saw the tell-tale evil smirk spread onto the Boy-Who-Had-No-Sense-of-Self-Preservation. "Believe it or not, it was Captain Red-Eyes."
"You-Know-Who made you sing that song?" Ron squeaked.
"Not exactly: he sent the lyrics and the music through our connection," Harry admitted with a chuckle. "I think someone is a little jealous his enemy managed to make his familiar happy and he didn't."
"Oh, Merlin's baggy trousers, mate – if this had been anyone else I'd book them into St. Mungo's," Ron groaned sinking back into his bed. "Let me guess, you're going to send You-Know-Who a thank you gift."
"Of course! It would be rude not to," Harry grinned. "I just have to make sure either Hermione agrees to my plans, or she is kept as far away from them as possible."
"Oh yeah! How could I almost forget? You have to deal with the Killjoy Queen for the rest of the summer," Ron chuckled.
"Well, if all else fails, I can just ask Dudley and Piers for help, my first two Councillors of Pranks," Harry stated happily.
"I was glad that you and your cousin are now on better terms, but now I am not so sure," Ron admitted groggily. "I just hope for your sake your aunt and uncle don't catch wind of what you have been doing."
"Oh please! They'd be more disappointed at the fact I am not dead yet," Harry responded candidly. "As for their little ickle Diddikins, they believe whatever he says so chances are he will cover for me."
Ron snorted. "Ickle Diddikins. Good grief! I die every time Mum calls me Ronnikins. How did your cousin ever become the bully instead of the target?"
"By being big and scary," Harry replied truthfully.
The two boys got some more sleep, though both of them couldn't get back into a deep slumber so it was more akin to a nap. But that also didn't last very long because the Walking Alarm Cloak that was Hermione Granger eventually came to their room to get them because Molly was almost ready with the breakfast.
"All right, Mr. Suicidal and Mr. Sleepy Head, up you get!" she announced, unceremoniously taking their duvets off them and exposing them to the rather cold air of the room. In retaliation, Ron threw his pillow at her but Hermione promptly turned the pillow into a pile of feathers with a non-verbal wave of her wand. "Breakfast time! And today we are going to make sure that you are occupied at all times!"
Harry gulped at the calculating look that had entered Hermione's dark coffee orbs.
"By the way, Harry, please try never to sing in your sleep again. You're absolutely tone-deaf when you sleep-sing," she added as she flung open the curtains and the sunlight sprayed itself into every corner of the room.
"Not my fault!" Harry protested with a groan, trying to keep to the shadows of the room as he sleepily got up. "Captain Cueball decided to make me sing Cotton Eye Joe as payback for winning over Nagini."
Hermione paled further. "Nagini?! You won over Nagini?!"
"Yep! With a luxury enclosure," Ron told her as he forced himself up into a sitting position. "I think she may also have liked your clothes considering the awful song You-Know-Who decided to put into Harry's head."
"Hey! Cotton Eye Joe is not an awful song," Harry protested.
"It was originally a slave song that was first song before the Civil War," Hermione added. "It is now a square-dance favourite."
"A what-now favourite?" Ron frowned.
"Square-dance," Harry repeated. "Four to eight people are put in the shape of a square, hence the name, with one couple on each side and they face the middle of the square. It is a Muggle thing; some Muggles consider it a type of folk dance. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went to one once on the invitation of Vernon's boss."
"I went square-dancing with my parents once, at a folk party where I live," Hermione added with a smile. "It was really fun!"
"Muggles are so weird sometimes," Ron shook his head despondently.
"Oh, and wizards aren't?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "The Statute of Secrecy clearly has a dress code that wizards are expected to stick to in order to blend in with the Muggles, but do they always follow this oh-so-important rule? Nope!"
"Plus, some of wizarding laws are in some serious need of updating," Harry pointed out as he put on a Hedwig Appreciation Society T-shirt that he had kept for himself.
"Updating?!" Ron blinked at Harry as though he had said 'you should wear a pink dress today. It will suit you'.
The Boy-Who-Was-Quietly-Plotting-Another-Prank gave him a pointed look. "Do I really have to remind you what happened last year to me?"
"Oh," Ron deflated visibly. "Yeah … OK, you have a point there."
"Oh, Ronald," Hermione shook her head at him.
Eventually the Golden Trio made it downstairs for breakfast, Molly a little disgruntled that they were late but she was soon distracted from that feeling with the arrival of the Daily Prophet, a new copy of Witch Weekly and – much to the horror of Harry, Ron and Hermione – the arrival of the Trio's O.W.L results. Fred and George snickered at their paled faces while Ginny was quietly praying on their behalf. Even Arthur Weasley looked more serious than normal.
"Oh no, no, no, no," Ron shook his head as he actively avoided taking the letter from the owl that landed in front of him, much to the bird's chagrin. The owl hopped on one leg ever closer with each 'no' that Ron said and refused to take the letter, eventually hooting indignantly and pecking at Ron's hand. It was Ginny who untied the letter and then handed it to her brother and placated the disgruntled owl with some of her bacon.
"This is pure hell," Harry agreed. He had the sense to untie the letter from the owl but now was holding the letter as though it were a Howler and was about to explode and shout at him at any moment.
"I know for a fact I missed at least three points in History," Hermione added, also refusing to open her results.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, you have straight Os! I don't need to have passed Divination to know this! You are the smartest person we all know."
Hermione flushed.
"Shall we open them together?" Harry suggested. "On the count of three: one, two, three!"
The Golden Trio broke the seals on their letters simultaneously and unfolded their grades, the Weasleys all waiting with bated breath.
Harry looked at his results and smiled to himself.
Astronomy – A
Care of Magical Creatures – EE
Charms – EE
Defence Against the Dark Arts – O
Divination – P
Herbology – EE
Potions – EE
Transfiguration – EE
History of Magic – D
"Well, thank Merlin!" Harry sighed with relief. "Seven Os. I failed Divination and History."
Hermione scoffed, shaking her head at him. "I stand by what I said before. You should have taken Arithmancy. At least that is actually useful! I am so glad I dropped Divination when I did."
"What? When you insulted Trelawney and stormed out of the class?" Ron half-chuckled. "Dropping the class; understatement!"
Hermione flushed. "What did you get, Ronald?"
"Failed Divination and History, like Harry," Ron replied. "Got four EEs: Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Defence and Transfiguration, thank Merlin. I would not live it down with McGonagall otherwise."
"Better worry about your mother, Ron," Arthur teased, Molly scowling at him.
"I got three As too," Ron continued. "Astronomy, Charms and Herbology."
"Only two fails, could be worse," Ginny commented with a grin. She turned to Hermione. "What did you get? All Os?"
"No," was the answer that took everyone by surprise. "Nine Os and one EE."
"Which subject did you only get an EE in?" Fred asked, blinking in shock.
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Hermione was red with embarrassment.
"But those results are wonderful!" Molly gushed. "Well done, my dear."
"Yeah, it's a good thing you dropped Divination or you'd run risk of getting an A because you don't like Trelawney's teaching methods," Ron quipped.
"RON!" his family scolded in unison.
The tension was broken by the arrival of another owl, one that the Weasleys didn't recognise as a Hogwarts owl or a paper owl. This one was majestic and had a haughty look to it as well as a medallion around its neck. A medallion engraved with the insignia of Gringotts Bank. For a moment, both Arthur and Molly feared the worst but were relieved and confused at the same time when it stopped in front of Harry and held out its leg.
Ron and Hermione were giving Harry pointed looks as the Boy-Whose-Spending-Habits-Was-About-To-Be-Questioned casually took the letter from the owl, feeding the bird some bacon and it waited next to Harry, eating its bacon contentedly.
"What have you go there, Harry?" Ginny asked curiously.
"Ginny! That is none of our business," Molly stated firmly.
Harry broke the seal and unfolded the letter, preparing himself for a good scolding from the goblins.
Dear Mr. H Potter,
Forgive us if this letter causes some inconvenience but as you may be aware, as heir to House Potter, we are obliged to inform you of some important financial matters concerning your estates before you come off age and are left completely blind-sighted. In addition to this, we do have some questions concerning the amount of money you have converted into Muggle pounds of late. Also, there is something of a more personal nature that we wish to discuss with you.
Considering all of the above, would it be possible for you to come to the bank at 10.30 in the morning three days hence for a meeting?
Yours sincerely,
Griphook
Harry bit his lip, attempting not to start laughing, and got up to his feet. "I need parchment, quill and ink," he stated simply.
"What do the goblins want?" Ron questioned before getting nudged in the ribs by Hermione. "OW! Cool it, woman, it's just a question."
"You don't go sticking your nose into someone else's financial business," Hermione responded firmly.
"Well, you keep poking your nose in business that doesn't concern you," Ron grumbled.
Hermione huffed indignantly at this but said nothing as Molly distracted the both of them with more baked beans and toast.
Harry found some parchment, a quill and ink and quickly quilled a response for the goblins, giving it to the impressively patient owl and then escaped from the breakfast table to take a shower and plot his next prank. He had rather liked Justin's idea of giving Nagini some extra competition in the form of another snake. He also liked Colin and Dennis' idea of sending a hawk or a falcon to the mansion but he also knew that the bird would get AK-ed in minutes.
Not if you send eggs instead, the Slytherin in him pointed out gleefully.
There was a perfect candidate. Harry smirked to himself. The peregrine falcon; its eggs sometimes could look like brightly coloured stones if one wasn't familiar with how a peregrine falcon egg could look like. He was willing to bet the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak that the Death Eaters, Snakeface or the Malfoys knew what a peregrine falcon egg looked like.
Once they realised what they actually were, it would be too late!
But what if the babies get hurt? his Gryffindor voice reasoned.
Harry huffed. "Well, let's hope they don't end up as Nagini food."
As he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, he heard Hermione's shrill tones drift up the stairs. "-I can't find him anywhere! We need to find him before he gets another idea that will likely get him killed. For all we know he is plotting to send the Malfoys a vacuum cleaner to see what will happen! Or maybe he is planning to send flowers to Bellatrix Lestrange, or skin cream to You-Know-Who!"
"Ooo the skin cream one is a good idea! Might make him more human."
"Not funny, Fred!" Hermione exploded. "We need to find him."
"Erm, Hermione? I hear the shower. I think I know where he is," Ginny sighed, clearly already tired of this nonsense.
"Oh no, no, no, no, no! The shower is his favourite plotting place because he knows only Ron and the other boys can get to him and no one dares to stop him. HARRY POTTER!"
Harry whistled a jaunty tune to himself, pretending not to hear the hammering on the door.
As petty revenge, he sent the catchy, irritating melody through his connection with Voldemort, who, to the shock and fear of everyone in the meeting room at Malfoy Manor, started to hum the tune subconsciously as he listened to Rookwood and Rowle debrief everyone on the success and failures of the night raid.
Voldemort did not realise what he was doing until Nagini started hissing and spluttering with laughter. *The Potter hatchling has given you a new song, Tom! You never hum; why do you never hum to your music? I think the Potter hatchling was not happy at being woken up by you this morning. Are you going to send him another song? Toooooom!*
#########################################
The Boy-Who-Wanted-To-Prank-His-Enemies-In-Peace was in an extremely bad mood by the end of the day. Hermione had been militant in keeping an eye on him; the only time he was able to escape her beady, watchful gaze was when he was permitted to go to the damn toilet! She and the Weasleys had been keeping him occupied for the whole day: first it was de-gnoming the garden, then it was helping water the plants, then the Weasleys wanted to play a game of Quidditch, which was then followed by Molly wanting to take a trip to Diagon Alley to celebrate the Golden Trio's good exam results.
Harry loved Fortescue's ice cream, that wasn't the issue here. The issue was that it seemed that Molly and Hermione were in league to make sure that Harry could not go anywhere near Arthur's Muggle-stuff filled shed without being spotted and he also could not get his Invisibility Cloak because his sister-from-another-family was following him more than his own shadow was, somehow! Not even Voldemort and his Death Munchers were this bad.
It would appear that the son of Prongs would need to tap into all of his dormant Slytherin side as he could in order to accomplish what he wanted, and so that is exactly what he did. After dinner, he transfigured one of the pillows on the chairs in the living room into a mouse, hoping to Bastet that Crookshanks the Flat-Faced Cat would take the bait.
Lo and behold, the kneazle did exactly what Harry hoped it would. Crookshanks began pursuing the fake mouse from one end of the Burrow to the other, the Weasleys and Hermione running after the beast to catch important antiques, breakable Muggle artefacts Arthur had lying around and to try and catch Crookshanks before he could do any lasting damage.
Hence, no one paid Harry any attention and the Boy-Who-Knew-He-Had-Very-Little-Time-Before-Hermione-Figured-Out-His-Trick slipped stealthily and quickly into Arthur Weasley's shed, dodging the cache of Muggle and approached the green phone, quickly dialling the number of Number Four, Privet Drive, hoping to Merlin, Morgana, Mordred and anyone else who was willing to listen that Vernon and Petunia were once more out for the day.
It seemed that for once Fate actually decided to not screw him over. The line beeped a few more times and then it stopped, signally the line had been picked up.
"Dursley residence, Dudley speaking."
"Dud, it's me!"
"Harry! You're still alive?!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Dud, you don't need to sound so surprised!"
"Sorry, cousin. It's just – how in everything that's holy have they not found and killed you yet? I mean, you sent dog toys to a damn werewolf and tried to make Voldemort jealous. I have been watching the news to see if there are reports of a Harry Potter going missing!"
"Not you too!" Harry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.
"How did you get to a phone? I'm assuming that your girlfriend-who-isn't-a-girlfriend doesn't know about this," Dudley was clearly smirking at the other end of the line.
"Shut up," Harry muttered.
Dudley snickered. "That's a 'yes', she doesn't know. OK, cousin, what plan have you concocted next?"
"Well, as you know I have been asking around for some more ideas and two of those ideas were sending a hawk or falcon to the mansion and sending a snake to the Manor to see if Voldemort's familiar can handle some competition," Harry replied. "Well, I know that the birds would likely get killed very quickly so I thought – why not send peregrine falcon eggs?"
Dudley snorted at this. "Oh, God! That will definitely take them by surprise. Do you remember when old Mrs. Henley bought like a bunch of them, thinking they were stones of some kind despite the fact there was a label that clearly said, 'peregrine falcon eggs' and practically had a heart attack when like a month later all her stones hatched and she had a nest of baby falcons?"
Harry was splitting his sides. "Oh, yes! I definitely remember that, which is why the Death Eaters will never see this coming. I don't know how I'm going to get my hands on them, though. Peregrine falcons usually lay eggs in March or April."
Dudley chuckled. "Leave that to me. And what kind of snake are you thinking about sending? I know my mate Dennis' aunt works as a pet store owner and she has some interesting snakes. She's the one who arranged the enclosure for Nagini."
"If you can get her to help again, that would be amazing," Harry grinned.
"Quick question, do you also want to piss those werewolves of yours off further?"
Uh-oh. It would appear Harry was corrupting Dudley! The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-His-Enemies grinned evilly. "Of course! What idea have you got?"
"You sent dog toys the last time, right? Why not send them dog grooming kits or something?"
Harry blinked five times and gaped. How did he not think of that?!
The silence made Dudley nervous though. "Shit idea?"
"What? No! Dud, that's fucking genius!" Harry cackled. "Do it!"
"Sure thing. By the way, cousin, out of curiosity, I know you had your exams a couple of months ago. Did you get your results yet?"
Harry smiled. "Seven passes, two fails. But those fails were for two subjects I didn't give much of a shit about and one of them was frankly a subject I took because I thought it was an easy pass. Kind of stupid, I know."
"But you passed the ones that matter, right?"
"Yep," Harry replied, popping the 'p'.
"Good. I'll get cracking then. I am meeting Den later anyway."
"Oh cool. See you, Dud."
"Later, cousin."
The boys hung up the phone at the exact same time and just in time as well.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER! YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!"
Ah, yes, Hermione had figured out his little distraction tactic. Harry quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself as his irate sister-from-another-family came stomping into the shed. He slipped behind one of the many shelves covered with Muggle artefacts and hollered towards the now open and unguarded entrance. Unfortunately, his spell didn't last very long and soon the Weasleys were watching Hermione Granger chase the Suicidal Saviour of the Wizarding World, the two of them running rings around the Burrow. Molly and Arthur didn't know which was more concerning: Hermione firing off non-verbal spells at Harry or Harry skilfully dodging each one as though he was used to it, practically skipping as he went.
######################################
For two days, Draco and his friends were in the best of moods. They had all passed their O. with glowing results, much to all of their relief; they would never have lived down the embarrassment of discovering they got an A in front of the Dark Lord. The children had occupied themselves with the Muggle music Potter sent them, much to Fenrir's chagrin. The music hurt his ears. What made it worse, was that the alpha of one of the most feared werewolf packs in Britain had caught members of his pack playing with the frisbees and some of the chew toys Potter had sent.
What made it worse was that one of those days was the full moon, and Voldemort and his Death Eaters were met with the unusual and rather scary sight of seeing giant wolves playing with squeaky toys like giant puppies with the alpha howling and whimpering in despair in a corner.
What had been less entertaining was the fact that because the children were now singing Muggle songs so often, many of them started to stick in the Death Eaters' heads. Voldemort had caught many of them – from the low ranking guards to the Inner Circle – singing several of them; the main offenders were Cotton Eye Joe, Dancing Queen, The Beast Within, Living on a Prayer, Love Song for a Vampire, Rasputin, and Thriller. Despite her hatred for the Muggle music, even Bellatrix and Mr. Mupples were caught dancing to Dancing Queen!
Rodolphus also had cheered up marginally. Voldemort had personally intervened in the quibble between him, Bellatrix and the ugly My Pet Monsters. He had decided to placate Bellatrix by saying everyone had to adopt at least one of the hideous creatures so that Rodolphus could at least sleep in his own bed and Bellatrix could rest easy knowing that Mr. Mupples' friends had somewhere to stay.
Everyone was forced to agree. The issue was they couldn't not put those ugly creatures in their beds because Bellatrix had made a threat beforehand. "If I find out any of them have been put on the floor or on top of the cupboards, I will use you as my test rat for my plans!"
They knew better than to underestimate the viciousness of Bellatrix Lestrange.
So, everyone was stuck with at least one Pet Monster every night, including the children. Well, Nagini wasn't; she was exempt from it. Mainly because everyone knew the snake would throw a massive hissy fit if an ugly, cuddly monster ruined the aesthetic of her enclosure. These days one could find the snake relaxing on her heating stone or spawling in her vine-hammock or coiled up in one of the rooms of her 'palace', as she called the structure. Wormtail was thanking Morgana every day because Nagini was far more interested in splashing in her pool or relaxing than chasing him from one end of Malfoy Manor to the other!
Voldemort, on the other hand, was fuming. The Brat had spoilt his familiar into pure laziness! Nagini had to be bribed with a lot of food in order to persuade her to leave her home in order to attend meetings. She didn't even want to have bath-time in his chambers anymore! How dare the boy send Nagini beautiful gifts and not to the rest of them!
There was some good news that managed to cool the Dark Lord's temper slightly. Narcissa finally got confirmation that all her tireless work was paying off; Lucius and the other knumbskulls who had managed to get themselves caught at the Department of Mysteries were very soon going to be released from Azkaban!
Voldemort contented himself with the fact he already had the perfect plan to punish Lucius for his serious transgression. The man would receive at least fifteen Boglins, one Cruciatus and Draco would be taking the Dark Mark, despite being only sixteen. Yes, that would do very nicely!
That day, Rabastan, Macnair and Rookwood had willingly volunteered themselves for Keep An Eye Out for Muggle Vehicles duty without so much as a threat of a Boglin from anyone, despite the fact it was Yaxley, Snape and Avery's turn to do so. Well, Macnair and Rookwood were the ones keeping a more beady eye on the gate; Rabastan had headphones on and was listening and singing to Cotton Eye Joe on his WALKMAN for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.
"I have a feeling we may be losing our touch somewhat," Rookwood commented, shaking his head at his colleague and friend, who was blissfully ignoring him.
"Nah. Rabastan's always been special," Macnair stated with a smirk.
"Have you had any luck trying to locate the boy?" the former Unspeakable wanted to know.
The Ministry executioner snorted. "I wish! I have a really good prank too. Been working on this box that starts to blurt out anything it hears around it – would be funny to have Potter's little secrets just spill out at random intervals!"
Rookwood snorted. "Merlin, Walden. You haven't put a curse in there have you?"
"What do you take me for, of course I have!" Macnair looked affronted at the suggestion he didn't. "If anyone tries to undo the spell or try to make it spill secrets prematurely, they could get pussy boils, or go blind in one eye for a day, or-"
"OK, good. You haven't been replaced by a changeling," Rookwood commented dryly.
"Shut up," Walden grinned. "What about you, Augustus? Have you been working anything for the boy?"
"Not really," Rookwood admitted. "I am not creative enough. I just can't think of anything."
Macnair lit up. "Why don't you send him a mirror that insults his appearance every time he looks into it? Or perhaps shoes that will make him dance to polka or tap dance or Irish dance at any given time? Or a living doll that will follow him around the whole day? Or a tea set that is such a diva it will insult or berate his choice of teas?"
Rookwood pinched the bridge of his nose. "How long have you been planning these pranks?" he dared to ask.
"Ever since Potter sent those flipping Boglins, Oowahwah boards and those ugly fucking monsters Bellatrix is forcing us to babysit," Macnair grumbled.
"Ouija," Rabastan corrected, joining the conversation at this point.
"I didn't ask beforehand because I didn't want to know the answer, but has Draco still been trying to contact Lily Potter from beyond the grave?" Rookwood asked him.
"He has, only to be met with insults every single time," Rabastan confirmed, looking way too happy for both Rookwood and Macnair's liking. "I think James Potter and Sirius Black may actively be keeping an eye on who tries to contact her!"
"So far, Narcissa has only been targeted once. I don't see why she's complaining," Macnair scoffed.
"Erm … cheap-looking lingerie and ugly dresses; two things to get Narcissa riled up," Rabastan pointed out with a grin. "I am surprised she didn't hire Hit Wizards at that point."
Rookwood studied his friend for a moment. "Out of curiosity, what would you do if Potter decided to target you personally?"
Rabastan smirked. "Honestly, I don't know. I would love to see what he comes up with. He doesn't know me as well as he knows Draco or Narcissa. I mean, he knows how to get under Fenrir and our Lord's skin because he has had first-hand experience with werewolves and our Lord. I would genuinely be interested to see what he does."
"I don't know what I'd do – depends on what the Brat sends," Macnair admitted.
"What about you, Augustus?" Rabastan questioned with a grin. "What would you do?"
"Probably send him a prank back, if I ever get enough inspiration," Rookwood replied with a small, rare smile.
"One that is cursed or not cursed?" Macnair asked eagerly.
"I think that would depend on the prank he sends me," the Unspeakable chuckled.
"I honestly cannot wait for the day Potter dares to send one to dear Bella," Macnair cackled to himself.
"That will be the day not even Mr. Mupples will be able to control her," Rookwood snorted.
Suddenly, all six pairs of ears pricked up as they heard the now-familiar sound of tires on the road outside the grounds. Rookwood, Macnair and Rabastan, though they were looking forward to seeing what the boy had done now, braced themselves for the arrival of the Muggles.
"OK. Which vans will be coming this time?" Macnair asked.
"I say red," Rabastan responded immediately.
"I have a feeling white may also be coming back," Rookwood added.
"Well, I think brown," Macnair stated with a grin. "Let's see who is right!"
The three Death Eaters watched the vans finally pull up outside of the gates, eagerly keeping a sharp eye on the colour of the vans. Rabastan was very pleased with himself when the Royal Mail van pulled up outside and Rookwood was smug when the white van pulled up outside as well. Macnair grumbled to himself when a second red Royal Mail stopped outside as well.
"Sorry, Walden," Rabastan grinned.
"Shut up," Macnair advised, a deep, sulky frown on his face.
"So, this is the place, huh," they heard one of the red-dressed Muggles say as they got out of their van.
"Well, they weren't kidding when they said it was difficult to find," the second Royal Mail Muggle replied.
"The house is creepy," the first Royal Mail Muggle shivered.
"As are those weirdos in cloaks over there. Hello there!" the Muggle from the white van called.
"Weirdos in cloaks?!" Macnair seethed. "Why that snivelling-"
"Hello!" Rabastan's cheery call cut him off. "Do you have a delivery for Draco or Narcissa Malfoy?"
All three Muggles blinked in shock before they chorused, "Both!"
"We also have a delivery for a Mr. F. Greyback and a present for Mr. D.L Red-Eyes," added one of the Royal Mail Muggles.
"Oh shit," Rookwood muttered. Mr. D.L Red-Eyes?! Was that boy begging for a slow and painful death?
"Oh boy, this going to be bad!" Macnair agreed, looking very giddy at this point.
"Ring the bell!" Rabastan called to the Muggles. "We are only guests of Narcissa I'm afraid."
BBBBRRRRRIINNNNNGGGGG!
The werewolves stopped playing, Nagini lifted her head up sleepily, Wormtail froze to his spot, the guards were praying to Morgana for patience, the Inner Circle immediately gathered in the parlour in anticipation and the children were dragged away from their music by their parents. Voldemort leisurely made his way to the parlour, hoping to Morgana that the boy had learned to slightly behave himself.
But secretly, even Voldemort knew that wish would go unfulfilled.
Fenrir, already looking annoyed, was one of the last to join the extensive group in the parlour. Narcissa took a fortifying breath. "Yes? For whom is this delivery this time?"
"Draco and Narcissa Malfoy, Mr. F. Greyback and Mr. D.L. Red-Eyes," one of the Royal Mail Muggles answered immediately. Clearly someone was told that these people had very little patience.
A cold tension suddenly blanketed the group. No one dared to look in the direction of the Dark Lord as they felt the heavy magic of the man begin to radiate in anger around the room. They didn't need to look at him to know his eyes were glowing blood red. "MR. D.L. RED-EYES?!"
"For fuck's sake," Fenrir added at the exact same time, growling menacingly.
The foundations of Malfoy Manor seemed to shake, causing no certain amount of panic amongst the Malfoy peacocks.
This stupid BOY! Never mind the Killing Curse – he no longer deserves it, Voldemort thundered to himself.
It was at this point, he swore he heard giggling inside his head.
Snape too was pinching the bridge of his nose. Foolish, foolish, foolish boy! Why can't you be more like Lily? Oh wait … Lily was vicious when she wanted to be. But still! How are we going to protect you now, stupid boy?
Narcissa had let the Muggles in. The three vans were already parked in front of her home and unloading the boxes, actually with the help of Rabastan, who was gently putting down some boxes with FRAGILE on the side. There was one box that had a weird shape, like Nagini's enclosure. And there was, much to everyone's surprise a plastic box with a bag inside of it with LIVE SNAKE written on the side.
Nagini noticed this. *Another snake? The hatchling has bought a snake? Is it a friend for Nagini? Tom, is Nagini going to get a friend? Is it a mate? If his scales are not shiny enough, Nagini will not have him! Toooooom, don't ignore Nagini!*
Rookwood, Macnair and Rabastan helped to cart the more fragile boxes into the house as well as the plastic box. A guard helped to cart in one of the normal boxes as well as the odd shaped box. Nagini slithered towards the plastic box almost immediately. *Tom, I want to see my new friend or possible mate!*
Voldemort grumbled incoherently under his breath as he waved his hand and the top of the box flew off. Rabastan carefully untied the top of the bag and no sooner had he done that, out popped the head of a banana-coloured ball python, peering out curiously. A few of the Death Eaters cooed quietly at how adorable it was.
When the young snake saw Nagini it ducked back into its bag slightly.
Nagini was a little affronted but she decided to try and be as nice as possible. *Hello, I am Nagini. What is your name?*
It took a few seconds before the ball python stuck its head back out of the bag. *No idea. I have no name,* Voldemort heard that the snake had a musical, female voice. Oh great – two female snakes to deal with!
*Tom will give you a name,* Nagini promised as Voldemort approached and gently lifted the snake from her bag. *He is my friend, and can speak our Tonuge.*
*Really?* the ball python regarded him curiously.
*Hello there,* Voldemort smirked smugly at the young snake's surprise.
*He looks funny,* the young snake commented bluntly, causing Voldemort to scowl slightly.
"So, that means that odd package is that snake's home," Dolohov deduced, approaching the strange box and getting rid of packaging around it with a quick Banishing spell. Indeed, the enclosure was almost as nice as Nagini's, though it didn't have a large palatial structure inside of it. It had a cute little cardboard cottage, though, and some odd skulls as well as some plants here and there.
As for Draco and Narcissa, they plucked up the courage to see what Potter had sent them, first opening one of the FRAGILE boxes since they suspected the evil child had meant that one for them. Neither of them knew what to do with the contents though. Nestled in careful containers were some very odd coloured stones; a few of them bright orange and others were pink with spots.
"Why would Potter send us stones?" Narcissa frowned.
Surprisingly Bellatrix and Mr. Mupples came over to have a look. Then Mr. Mupples began to shake. "What's that, Mr. Mupples? You think there is something inside the stones?" Bellatrix sang. More shaking. "Keep the stones warm? Are you sure? Cissy, Mr. Mupples-"
"I heard," Narcissa sighed irritably.
"Well, at least the boy sent enough of them to be distributed around," Draco shrugged. "Everyone gets a stone. No big deal."
"Living stone," Bellatrix corrected, giggling. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Mupples and I haven't finished Plan 30 yet and the dress for the Mudblood still needs some extra ribbons! I'll see you all later!"
The mad witch was gone before they could blink.
"At least you have your own bed back, eh, Dolph," Mulciber teased Rodolphus.
"Yes, with that fucking Mr. Mupples still sleeping between us!" Rodolphus thundered.
"THAT STUPID BOY, I WILL TEAR HIS THROAT OUT!"
Fenrir had opened one of his boxes. His claw-nails had torn the cardboard to shreds and his teeth had elongated to fangs. Carefully, everyone went to see what the fuss was about. Indeed all of them had issues containing their laughter when they saw blue, black and green cases, all of which contained scissors, clippers, combs, blade oils, cleaning brushes and nail files.
Dog grooming kits! The suicidal idiot had sent Fenrir Greyback dog grooming kits.
Rabastan snickered to himself. Oh boy, this child wanted war!
Nagini hissed angrily as she saw the banana ball python curl into herself. *Shut up, dog! You are scaring Nagini's new friend!*
"Fenrir, control yourself," Voldemort started firmly.
"I WILL HAVE HIS INTESTINES FOR BREAKFAST! I WILL BURY HIS LEGS IN THE GARDEN!"
"No, you will not," the Dark Lord chastised, his eyes glowing red, which calmed the alpha down only slightly. "Has no one found the boy yet?"
"No, my Lord," Severus responded. "A few of our pranks have gone astray."
*Who cares about the hatchling sending brushes and scissors? The dog is in need of them anyway,* Nagini added haughtily. *The fleabag just doesn't like personal hygiene.*
Voldemort was set to scold her until he heard the musical hissing from the ball python that signalled that the newcomer was laughing. Nagini hissed in satisfaction.
*Do you like rat hunting?* Nagini asked her friend.
The head of the ball python emerged in seconds. *I love rat! Have you got rats?*
*One! Let's go and find him! But we are not allowed to eat him, only scare him.*
Voldemort lowered so that the banana-coloured snake could safely slither to the floor and join Nagini. *That's boring! I want a proper hunt.*
*Then follow Nagini – Nagini will show you the best hunting spot.*
It was possibly in that moment that many thought the exact same thing as the two snakes slithered out: uh-oh, Nagini has a side-kick. Things were about to get interesting!
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This idea came to me while I was watching a YouTube video on egg ratings, believe it or not. I decided to combine it with the suggestion of a reviewer to send Fenrir dog grooming kits! I also really like the idea of sending Voldemort skin cream and trying to get Bellatrix hooked on Muggle movies but I need to figure out how to do that properly. I am also going to try and taco idea soon – Macnair can't complain that Harry is being one note now!
As always, this is not my world – otherwise Mr. Mupples would have been canon and in the movies, hopefully! Plus, 'Cotton Eye Joe' is not my property either.
I will see you guys in the next one! I hope you guys had as much fun reading this as I did writing it.
Kingmaker'sUmbreon