The Revenge of Narcissa Malfoy
Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts, hated his job more than ninety per cent of the time on a good day. He hated children, he hated Peeves the poltergeist, he hated the fact he was a Squib surrounded by magically blessed people constantly, but at this moment in time, he really hated both his job and his life. The reason for this was because on his morning rounds, Mr. Filch and his beloved cat Mrs. Norris had gone to the Armoury in order to check which suits of armour were in need of polishing and swords in need of sharpening. This had to be done at least once a week in order to keep the historical artefacts in pristine condition.
Why Argus Filch decided he hated his job more than ever, was because the suits of armour needed more than just a simple polishing on this occasion. He and Mrs. Norris had discovered very quickly that every single suit of armour had been redecorated with the disgusting spray paint that had been used to defile Hufflepuff's entrance. One suit of armour looked like it could have belonged to the Green Knight, another had been soiled in the most eye-aching and headache-inducing colour scheme Filch had ever seen, a third was a disturbingly pink colour, a fourth looked like it had been made from golden dragon scales – each one had either something creatively done or something that had little to no thought put into it what so ever.
While Mrs. Norris found it all very amusing, Filch had immediately stomped his way towards the Headmaster's office, steam practically coming out of his ears. Albus Dumbledore had been enjoying a nice cup of herbal tea before breakfast when he welcomed his irate caretaker into his office and had to listen to the man's wailing and frantic arm-flapping for a good twenty minutes.
Indeed, Filch's indignation was shared by the majority of the staff, when they discovered what had been done to the suits of armour.
"It has to be Potter!" Filch had insisted for the umpteenth time. "That diabolical little brat has been up to no good for years!"
"It is not, Argus. I checked through his belongings three times," McGonagall assured him, looking extremely disgruntled.
"I think if we discover who did this, we may also discover who graffitied the Hufflepuff dungeons," Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"But the majority of the students' trunks were searched on arrival," Pomona Sprout pointed out with a sigh. "You did not happen to find anything that looks like a spray can?"
"Unfortunately not," Flitwick deflated.
"Well, perhaps we can ask the students to help keep an eye out," Dumbledore suggested brightly. "I am sure they will be all too happy to be of assistance."
No one dared to point out to the Headmaster that the children were far more likely to cover for the people in question, because the old coot was looking too happy and no one dared to ruin his good mood. Indeed, their suspicions were confirmed at breakfast, after the Headmaster had made the announcement, and the staff saw the children giggling and gossiping. Hermione Granger glowered at Harry Potter, who was ignoring her in favour of a book he was reading fervently.
Snape looked towards his Slytherins and noticed with eagle-sharp eyes Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode look very pleased with themselves while their friends were not so subtly glaring at them.
The two Slytherins in question were simply preening inside. Not only had they passed Ferrars and Kingsley's little initiation test, they had managed to attract the attention of all the staff, not just simply Dumbledore! If that didn't score them bonus points, they did not know what would.
"You two are the biggest knumbskulls I have ever known," Daphne grumbled in a low tone.
"People are sooner or later going to figure out it had been the two of you," Pansy added, shaking her head.
"Not if you don't go blabbing," Millicent huffed.
"Please! Give us a bit more credit than that," Daphne raised an eyebrow. "I am more concerned about the two of you making such foolishly Gryffindor decisions than anything else. You could have graffitied Dumbledore's gargoyle for all I care; just do not get caught. You're already attracting too much attention."
"That was the point," Blaise admitted. "It had to be something that the teachers could not ignore. Plus, Kingsley and Ferrars knew Filch would be polishing the armour today, which is why they selected the Armoury as our first test."
"Kingsley?" Theo repeated in disbelief. "No, no way. You have to be joking! That girl hasn't so much as sneezed in a classroom or turned one piece of homework in late. Are you telling me that Kingsley is one of the secret street artists?"
"Better – one of the leaders," Blaise grinned.
"No way!" Theo's eyes shone.
"Along with Ferrars?" Draco scoffed when Blaise and Millie nodded in affirmation. "That does not entirely surprise me. Ferrars always has a propensity to offend with every art piece he ever makes-"
"And yet no one suspects him, Drakey-poo," Millicent teased, causing Draco to glower at her. She smirked with satisfaction. "We get to hear tonight if we are in or not. I do hope it is enough; I'd hate to use Daph's idea and make Dumbledore's boring old gargoyle a little more interesting."
Daphne's eyes blazed. "That was not a suggestion!"
"Ssssssssshhhhhhh!" her friends chorused as eyes turned on them.
Snape's eyes narrowed at this point.
#########################################################################
Breakfast at Malfoy Manor was as lively as ever. The werewolf children were either singing along to music, discussing series with Rookwood on detectives such as Nancy Drew, talking to Dolohov and Rowle about their families or babysitting Mr. Mupples so Bellatrix could eat her pancakes without fear of making him dirty. Fenrir was discussing potential targets with Reed and his older werewolves. Rabastan had his nose in Rookwood's cooking magazine while making more smoothies. The other members of the Inner Circle were discussing their strategy to take over the Ministry one bit at a time.
As for Voldemort, who was reading Rookwood's old copy of Nimbus, he was trying to focus on the short article he was reading while eavesdropping on the conversation Thalia and Nagini were having.
*I still think there are some eerie similarities between that man in Schindler's List,* Nagini insisted.
*Oh please! The man has a nose and hair; there are no similarities between them,* Thalia huffed. *Ollivander agreed with me.*
*He was just trying to stop you to stop humming that Dead Can Dance song!* Nagini shot back.
*He likes my singing!* Thalia protested.
*Yes, but not the same song over and over again, Thalia,* Nagini pointed out.
Voldemort could not help the small smile that was forming on his face at this point.
Thalia huffed. *I really like the bell ringing and Maypole song though. By the way, do you think the Potter hatchling will send some more presents soon? I am rather excited to see what idea he has to help us with setting Tom up with someone!*
Voldemort scowled a little at this.
*I hope it is movies, or something. I keep falling asleep when you read to me,* Nagini commented.
*Hey!* Thalia pouted.
*It's a compliment! You have a very soothing voice,* Nagini reassured.
Tap.
The sound resonated around the room. Everyone froze; one or two wolves dropped their spoon into their cereal in shock. A few of the Inner Circle reached for their wands. The werewolves focused their heightened hearing instantly in preparation for anything.
"Did you guys hear that?" Macnair whispered.
"Yes, we did," Amycus answered steely.
"What is it?" Rowle asked in a low tone.
"No idea," Alecto answered in a hiss, sounding close to a threatened cat.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"There it is again," one of the werewolves commented as they turned their eyes up to the windows around them, the Inner Circle also beginning to look up around them, their eyes narrowed. Voldemort too had slipped his wand from his sleeve.
It was one of the younger wolves, Izzy, who spotted the culprit. "Look, Tyler, look, Augustus!" she cried out excitedly, pointing to one of the higher windows. "Pretty owl!"
Everyone followed the little wolf's finger. Sure enough, they saw a snowy owl looking down at them before pecking at the glass again, a little bit more impatient than before. Tap, tap, tap.
"What is that, Mr. Mupples? Oh! Her name is Hedwig you say? She belongs to your papa?" Bellatrix cooed.
That caused everyone to freeze. Harry Potter had sent his owl?
Voldemort didn't even wait to consult the Malfoys as he lazily waved his hand at the window and allowed the rather elegant bird into the room. The Dark Lord quietly contemplated how a rugged and scruffy boy ended up with such a beautiful familiar, and had been intelligent enough to give her a suitable name. Everyone watched her descend eagerly and with no certain amount of trepidation.
What in Merlin's name was that owl going to deliver? A magical prank? A hexed letter?
Macnair lit up as Hedwig landed gracefully in front of him and stuck out her leg. Attached was a – seemingly – normal looking letter, addressed to him in writing that could only be described as chicken scratch. Apparently the Potter boy had received zero training in how to properly use a quill pen in all his years at Hogwarts.
"For me?" Macnair still could not believe his luck.
"Hoot!" Hedwig confirmed happily.
"Walden, just take the damn letter," Mulciber huffed with a short laugh, shaking his head at his friend and fellow Death Eater.
As Macnair untied the letter around the owl's leg and fed her some bacon in thanks, which Hedwig looked exceedingly chuffed with, Thalia decided to make the acquaintance of the familiar belonging to the Potter hatchling.
*Hello there! My name is Thalia. You are Hedwig, yes?* the young ball python hissed as she slithered towards the owl.
Hedwig watched in amusement. "Hoot! Hoot, hoot. Hoot?" the owl looked in the direction of Nagini.
*My friend is Nagini, she's really fun,* Thalia responded jovially. *Is the Potter hatchling sending anything to help us with finding Tom a mate?*
The Dark Lord spluttered at this point. Hedwig, apparently having as much nerve as her wizard, ignored him. "Hoot! Hoot, hoot, hoot, hoot."
Thalia lit up. *Did he?! Oh I cannot wait already. It has been rather boring without the Potter hatchling's presents.*
Hedwig hooted with laughter. Voldemort already knew he was going to hate the next delivery.
Meanwhile, Macnair had broken the seal off the letter and was reading through Harry's letter.
Macnair,
I must say that I had not expected any kind of note to come with this weird box you sent me. I could have used that warning about Jehoshaphat earlier: the little shit pecked my fingers and the back of my head! I was ignoring him – I do admit – but still; you should teach him some manners. I think he may have taken a liking to Ginny since she managed to calm him down but I think your owl has a genuine hatred for anything that breathes so it is difficult to tell.
Your prank almost failed before it could work – I am still wondering what it is supposed to do because it hasn't done anything yet – because Hermione tried to take the thing from me and no doubt would have tried to destroy it. She really doesn't like fun all too much. Well, I refused to hand it over, she chased me around the Great Hall and then tripped over her feet because I asked Snape to help me and he used his remote to startle her! I knew sending dear old Snape that remote was a good idea.
Anyway, your retaliation prank should be coming today so keep an eye on the gate. I hope you don't hate them too much because one of us spent ages making a few of them but I guess that I do want you to hate them. I still haven't forgiven you for what you tried to do to Buckbeak.
Harry
P.S. Is Mr. Mupples still driving Rodolphus insane? Could you send me a picture? Nev would love to see it for himself!
P.P.S. Could you try and find out who Thalia and Nagini are trying to set up? You can pick a target from the Order of the Phoenix if you do!
Macnair had no idea why but he couldn't stop grinning at the letter the Potter Brat had sent him, especially after imagining the uptight Mudblood trip over her own feet in an attempt to stop the delivery. Rowle, Dolohov and Mulciber saw a shine return in his eyes that had only increased over the past month – the glint of a new challenge that Macnair did not want to stop any time soon.
"Yes, Mr. Mupples, I think the boy did write to Macnair – I have no idea when he will write to us. Mr. Mupples, don't pout! He will likely write very soon," Bellatrix soothed the put-out plushie.
Rodolphus quietly bristled into his smoothie.
Voldemort too saw the rare genuine smile on the Executioner's face. "Walden, what doesss the Brat write?" he demanded, trying to quell the irritation he felt that Hedwig had not delivered a letter to him.
Macnair composed himself rather quickly, clearing his throat. "The boy has received the prank – apparently it hasn't started spilling any secrets yet – and he had managed to out run his Mudblood friend who was trying to take it from him with the help of dear old Sevvy and his stupid remote, my Lord," he informed readily.
Voldemort nodded. "Pity it hasss not ssstarted ssspilling sssecretsss. Perhapsss sssoon. What elssse?"
Macnair tried to keep a straight face. "He asks if Mr. Mupples is still driving Rodolphus mad-"
"The answer is yes!" Rodolphus thundered.
"-and to take a photo to show someone called Nev. He also asks to find out who Nagini and Thalia are trying to match-make and if I gather the information, I am allowed to pick a target for him to prank from the Order of Flaming Chickens," Macnair finished.
Voldemort paled at hearing this. Thalia and Nagini started cackling evilly; even Hedwig was starting to give him knowing and teasing looks through those glowing amber eyes.
Oh no.
This was not good! Not good at all!
"Wait, Nagini and Thalia are playing matchmaker?" one of the adolescent werewolves lit up. "Who?"
Thalia lit up at this point.
*DON'T YOU DARE!* Voldemort snapped.
*They can't understand us, Tom,* Nagini reminded through giggles.
*I DON'T CARE!*
OI, SNAKEFACE! STOP SHOUTING! I AM IN SNAPE'S CLASS AND I DO NOT WANT ANOTHER DETENTION!
Goodie. The Brat had heard him through the Link.
Getting a headache, Potter? Voldemort could not resist sneering. Now you know what I suffer on a daily basis because of you!
Are you sure it isn't because you're dehydrated?
Harry quipped back. I mean that snake skin has been looking a little dry lately-
WHY YOU LITTLE-
Harry was gone again in about two seconds flat.
As for Macnair, he quickly quilled a reply to his Lord's most deadly enemy, giving a small smile to the very patient Hedwig; the owl could have hooted with laughter as Bellatrix, Mr. Mupples and the werewolf children waved her off.
The Ministry Executioner frankly could not sit still with excitement; he was still practically bouncing on the balls of his feet during Gatewatch duty with Reed, both Averys, Mulciber and Rodolphus, who was cursing poor Hedwig under his breath for souring his mood due to a letter she had to deliver. Mulciber had wacked him around the head for some of the comments he made about the familiar.
"Stop being such a child! It is not the owl's fault," Mulciber stated crisply.
"She belongs to the Brat; that's more than enough cause for me," Rodolphus responded moodily.
"Fuel your frustration into getting the Brat back instead of taking it out on Hedwig," Avery Senior countered, shaking his head. "Really, Dolph! I understand that you hate Mr. Mupples, but Hedwig is an innocent bystander in this."
"Father, may I point out you're calling Potter's owl by her name?" Lysander sighed in despair.
"That is her name! Potter called Jehoshaphat by his name. It is only polite, son," Avery Senior shot his son a look of disappointment. "Really, I expected better from you, Lysander. Perhaps I should ask Rabastan if you can borrow one of his very enlightening books."
Avery Junior blanched at hearing this. "No, thank you, Father. I will pass on that offer."
"What I would like to know is who those two snakes are trying to set up," Reed grinned. "I didn't even know they were plotting that! To be honest, that is the least what I expected from those two."
"Well, we don't understand Parseltongue so that makes it difficult to gauge what those two are saying. All we know is that they give our Lord a bit of a pulsing headache," Mulciber replied, trying not to laugh in amusement. "But it is an interesting notion: who are they going to match together?"
Macnair joined in at this point. "My money is on Reed."
This caused the Beta of the Greyback pack to flush a deep crimson. "Please! I am not nearly interesting enough to try and match," he tried to deflect.
"Mmmhmm," Avery Senior's eyes danced with mirth. "I was not born yesterday, my good sir. I know infatuation when I see it, and you only have that look I recognise when you look in the direction of certain Rabastan Lestrange."
Reed had no developed a firm interest in his shoes, especially when Rodolphus turned his eyes on him.
"There is nothing to be ashamed of, Reed," Avery Junior teased. "Rabastan was lying when he said he isn't into werewolf; he's just not into Fenrir, which we can all understand!"
"Oi!" Reed protested, head shooting back up. "Watch it! He's still my alpha."
"Ooooo does that mean Fenrir could order you to ask Rabastan out?" Mulciber's eyes shone at this point.
Reed paled to an unhealthy shade of white. He gulped. "Technically speaking … yes."
Macnair and Avery Senior lit up at hearing that. Rodolphus didn't know whether to look infuriated or amused.
"That should be interesting," Avery Junior commented.
"That it could, indeed," Macnair cackled.
"If you hurt him, I will bury you next to Fenrir's bone stockpile," Rodolphus added gruffly.
Reed blanched. "Whaaaaaa … I never said that I like your brother!"
"You never said you didn't like him!" Mulciber shot back.
Reed began spluttering in protest.
"Have you guys discovered Reed's not-so-secret crush on Rabastan?"
Roden, Beynon and Holland had joined the group at this point, grinning from ear to ear at their Beta's embarrassment. Reed's blush spread to his ears at this point.
"Could you all keep your voices down?" Reed begged. "I don't need the whole world to know-"
"-that you're a coward?" Holland teased.
Reed huffed and hung his head as the group began laughing at his expense. It was perhaps a case of being saved by delivery vans because soon the ears of Reed, Roden, Beynon and Holland pricked up and the werewolves started smirking.
The Death Eaters lit up.
"Colours, boys!" Roden stated.
"Red," Macnair and Rodolphus chorused.
"White," Reed and Mulciber stated in sync.
"Brown," the Avery father and son added.
The group watched in anticipation as three white Amazon vans and one Royal Mail van pulled up in front of the Manor. Avery Senior and Junior were extremely put out; the adolescent werewolves did a small jig in triumph. The Averys had to forfeit their first smoothie tomorrow!
"Yes! Finally!" one of the Amazon Muggles celebrated as they hopped out of their vans. "I really do need to pee after this though."
"I guess the spooky stories may actually have something to them," the Royal Mail Muggle concurred. He was the first to spot the extensive group on the other side of the gate. "Hello there! I assume this is Malfoy Manor?"
"Correct!" Macnair answered giddily. "For whom are your deliveries?"
The Muggles turned to their clipboards.
The Royal Mail Muggle was the first to answer. "I have a delivery for a Mr. Walden Macnair!"
Macnair's eyes shone. "That's me!"
The Amazon Muggle who was first out of their van continued. "This is going to sound absolutely mad, but I have a delivery for a Mr. Mupples!"
"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" Rodolphus exploded.
"Dolph, deep breaths. We do not need to have you end up in St. Mungo's and then back into Azkaban," Mulciber sighed, eyes dancing with amusement.
The other two Amazon Muggles continued.
"I have a delivery for a Mr. Amy – Amycus? Amycus Carrow."
There was a moment of silence.
"Amy's the next target," Avery Senior stated to himself in delight. "Amy's been targeted! YES! The Brat has done it! Finally!"
"I hope he faints," Macnair agreed, eyes shining even more than before, if that was even possible.
"I think I must have a joke name too because I have a deliver for a Mr. D.L Red-Eyes and one for a Miss N. and Miss. T Snake!"
"Fuck me," Reed commented, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"That is Rabastan's job," Lysander Avery quipped instantly.
Reed did not deign to give that comment an answer.
"This boy clearly is not being watched by Minnie," Rodolphus added, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Or put into enough detentions," Mulciber pointed out.
Holland then called out to them. "You have to ring the bell! All of us are guests; we can't let you in."
BBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGGG!
"HASN'T SEVERUS PUT THAT BOY INTO TWO HUNDRED DETENTIONS YET?!"
Narcissa quietly prayed for mercy. "Lucius-"
"They cannot keep the boy under constant supervision, Lucius," Rabastan added, looking up from his magazine.
"THEY SHOULD! I AM STARTING TO RUN OUT OF SPIRITS!" Lord Malfoy wailed as the silver orb floated over to him and his wife. The Inner Circle, Voldemort, Nagini, Thalia and the Greyback pack piled into the parlour, as per protocol.
"Do not fret, dear. This weekend I am going to make the boy rue his miscalculation," Narcissa smirked to herself.
"Yes, Mr. Mupples, Lucius does shout too much. Indeed, Mr. Mupples, we should make him zip it for a few hours!" Bellatrix cackled.
Lucius had the decency to gulp what audibly.
"Hellooooo?! Anybody there?" the Muggles chorused.
"I wish I wasn't," came the candid reply from the homeowner. "Who have you brought monstrosities for this time?"
The Muggles exchanged a look before reciting.
"I have a delivery for a Mr. Walden Macnair, who is standing on your front path!"
"Sir, I apologise beforehand but I have a delivery for a Mr. Mupples!"
While everyone else could not believe their ears, Bellatrix and Mr. Mupples look ecstatic. "Yes, indeed, Mr. Mupples, your papa did think of you! … Hmm? What do you mean, you get to draw?"
"I have a delivery for a Mr. … Jesus, I am going to butcher this name … Amy-cus Carrow!"
"WHAT?!" Amycus was paler than snow within five seconds as everyone else around him started to snicker at his expense. Alecto looked like she was praying to Morgana and anyone else who would listen for mercy.
"YES! AMY IS A TARGET! FINALLY!" Dolohov looked and sounded as though Yule was coming early that year.
"That boy took his time!" Avery Senior agreed.
"This should be awful!" Mulciber added, eyes shining with malice.
"I have a delivery for a Mr. D.L. Red-Eyes and a Miss N. and Miss T. Snake!"
*We have gotten more presents, we have gotten presents from the Potter hatchling!* the snakes sang happily. *We get to start setting Tom up! Yaaaaaaay!*
Voldemort was not happy that he had gotten more presents from the Potter hatchling if the neon red hue in his eyes were anything to go by.
What have you done, you impudent boy? he decided to demand through the Link.
Surprisingly, Harry answered relatively quickly. It was unanimously decided that your sleepwear did not match your age or character. It isn't old timey enough or suitable for a Scrooge like you.
How would you even know what I wear to bed?! Voldemort thundered.
I don't know what you wear to bed but that isn't the point, was the irritatingly bright reply.
I hate you.
I know. By the way, do you know anything about Professor Slughorn?
The man used to be my Head of House and was Potions Master at Hogwarts before Severus. His favourite sweets were pineapple flavoured – wait, WHY AM I TELLING YOU THIS?!
Thanks, Voldie! Enjoy your present! Oh who am I kidding? That's never going
The Link was once again shut and the Brat was gone. Voldemort was still kicking himself for providing useful information to his enemy when the boxes were being brought inside. Apparently Mr. Mupples had gotten three boxes, Walden had a total of five, Amycus had thirty, Nagini and Thalia had been gifted twenty boxes and he had a measly one box!
Voldemort was half tempted to reopen the Link just to shout at Harry More-Irritating-Than-Mosquitoes-In-The-Summer Potter for that insult.
The Dark Lord distracted himself from his envious fury by looking to the excited Executioner who was already shaking one of his boxes to try and figure out what had been delivered to him. "Walden, you firssst!"
Macnair jumped to it in seconds. The Executioner opened his box and peered in, looking a little flummoxed for a moment as he started unpacking hand-crocheted plushie hippogriffs, Thestrals, Dugbogs, dragons, Acromantulas, Dementors, one Cerberus and a few black dogs with seemingly glowing yellow eyes.
"More plushies," Dolohov wilted in disappointment. "Boring!"
Macnair glared at him. "I bet there is something more to them. Shut up, Antonin!"
*If not they can always serve as new chew toys for some of the young wolves. I am sure they have gotten bored of their chew toys and sheep already,* Thalia tittered. She then lit up. *Hey Nagini, how do you lie to a sheep?*
*No idea, Thalia, tell me!*
*By pulling the wool over their eyes!*
Voldemort counted to thirty in Parseltongue in his head.
"Mr. Mupples, it is not your turn!" Bellatrix scolded her Pet Monster, who was rolling impatiently on top of their box. "Our Lord has not given us permission as you fully well know – yes, you need to learn some patience. No, your papa would agree with me!"
Before Mr. Mupples could retort, Voldemort intervened. "Bella, open the box!"
His lieutenant lit up and gutted the box with her dagger in about five seconds and she and Mr. Mupples peeked into the box. Bellatrix scowled in confusion as she lifted out this giant red square that had a blank screen – etched in gold, were the words Etch-A-Sketch.
"What kind of filthy Muggle contraption?" Bellatrix hissed like a cat while the rest of the Death Eaters frowned at it in utter complete bewilderment.
Izzy was more than happy to tell her. "Oh, I know what that is. I had one of those! It's an etch-a-sketch. You use it to draw pictures and write words. I think Harry sent it to allow Mr. Mupples to communicate with everyone!"
Mr. Mupples started bobbing at this point. Bellatrix lit up. "Is that so, Mr. Mupples? The little wolfy is correct? Well then, let's get it out of this plastic substance."
The packaging was banished within seconds and she turned her attention to the rest of the contents, which was all the exact same thing: this strange, helical object that was rainbow coloured but didn't stay together at all – it was incredibly springy!
Bellatrix pulled another face. "What could this possibly be used for?" she then lit up. "Is it another torture device? … Mr. Mupples, why are you laughing at me?!"
"That is not a torture device, Bella," Sebastian, one of the younger werewolves who got on best with the Death Eater, rolled his eyes. "That is a slinky."
"A slinky?" Dolohov repeated.
"It's a toy," Reed clarified. "Relatively useless but it is capable of doing a few tricks."
"Like what?" Jugson asked.
"Stair races!" the younger werewolves chorused.
"Stair races?" Rabastan echoed, blinking in confusion.
"We will show you later," Hannah promised as some of the younger wolves already started pinching some of the slinkies in the box.
Voldemort then turned onto Amycus, who was looking at his box like it contained a deadly disease of some kind. "Amycusss, it'sss your turn."
Amycus looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole; he had been relieved that the Brat had ignored him and had hoped that the boy would continue the trend, but apparent that had been very wishful thinking. However, the Death Eater knew better than to disobey his master and reluctantly drew his wand, opened the box with a neat Cutting Charm, braced himself and then forced himself to peer inside.
Amycus paused, processed what he was looking at before his eyes starting to glow ominously. "POTTERRRRRRRRRRRRR!"
There went the windows as well as several antiques, and the mirror suffered multiple cracks again. Lucius began making some very concerning noises at this point. Wormtail fell off his chair again; peacocks ran around the garden in a panic. The owl foster mothers for the eagle chicks hid their charges under their wings. The lower ranked Death Eaters winced.
"What is it, Amy?" Mulciber asked with a grin. "Did you get a toy too?"
Pulsing with rage, Amycus reached into the box and pulled out a diary. A very pink, furry diary with a blue pony on it with a rainbow coloured mane with the name Rainbow Dash under it and right at the top, in purple glitter letters was the name AMY.
In about five seconds flat, the floor was littered with Death Eaters and werewolves trying not to choke on their own saliva because they were laughing so hard; Bellatrix for once was amongst them. Even Voldemort could not keep his composure, having to resort to hiding his face in his hands to hide his amusement.
Thalia and Nagini didn't bother hiding their amusement.
*Hey Nagini, what do you think Amy's favourite pony is?*
*I have no idea, Thalia, tell me!*
*The Death Pony!*
Avery Senior eventually recovered enough in order to comment, "I think Potter has learned your name."
"MY NAME IS NOT AMY!" Amycus thundered, his voice echoing into the corridors, causing a few lower rank Death Eaters and their kitten charges to jump in fright.
"To be fair, I don't think Amycus is a very common name in the Muggle world, considering the fact the poor delivery Muggle really didn't know what to do with it," Rabastan responded from the armchair he had collapsed into, trying to recover.
Amycus continued frothing at the mouth. "I am going to enjoy flaying him alive!"
"Erm … Amy, I think you shouldn't say that out loud," Dolohov told him, having just spotted something.
"WHY NOT?!" Amycus seethed.
"Because there is a gallows drawn on Mr. Mupples' etch-a-thingy," was Dolohov's answer.
All eyes turned to the etch-a-sketch; indeed, they had no idea how it happened, but there was an erected gallows – very well drawn too – on the screen of the thing. Mr. Mupples sat next to it, looking menacingly in Amycus' direction.
Amycus paled dangerously, as did a few other Death Eaters and werewolves.
Voldemort decided it was time to save the situation, and to avoid Thalia and Nagini badgering him to open their box. He drew his wand and used a nonverbal Cutting Charm to open it as the snakes eagerly slithered up the table to see what the Potter hatchling had sent them in their quest to find Tom a suitable mate.
The answer to what Harry had sent his spoilt snakes: more films.
Not just any old films.
Romantic films: It's a Wonderful Life, Sleepless in Seattle, The Shop Around The Corner, Meet Me in St. Louis, When Harry Met Sally, Romancing the Stone, Out of Africa, Streets of Fire, A Room With A View, The Princess Bride, The Great Gatsby – it was just one title after the other.
Thalia and Nagini could not be happier.
*The Potter hatchling delivered!* Nagini cheered.
*No, the Muggles delivered,* Thalia responded.
*You know what I mean, Thalia!*
Voldemort felt a vein in his head start to pulse but he forced himself to concentrate on his own box. He knew already that he would hate it – he just needed to decide if it was enough to send Fenrir to test the Hogwarts wards as a warning to the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-An-Absolute-Nuisance-To-Everyone-Around-Him.
One Cutting Charm later, the box was open and everyone pre-emptively ducked for cover; the young werewolves put their fingers into their ears. Izzy hid again behind Rookwood's legs. Voldemort tried to ignore them but very soon his attention was grabbed by a very plain, white cotton nightshirt – a Victorian one – with a matching night cap and an ugly brown teddy bear in packaging.
Teddy Ruxpin, it read.
Voldemort's red eyes started glowing. "HAAAAAAAAAAARRYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"
Some of the windows actually shattered inwards at this point, causing the young werewolves to scream and the ground beneath their feet started to shake very violently. Mr. Mupples had tumbled off the table, fortunately into Bellatrix's arms and even Nagini and Thalia were almost blown away.
*Oi, Lord Grumpy-mort, what has happened now?* Thalia demanded once the shaking had stopped.
Voldemort angrily unpacked the box, slamming down the Teddy Ruxpin. "HE SENT ME A TEDDY BEAR! I HAVE NEVER NEEDED A TEDDY-"
The Dark Lord was interrupted by the screaming of the werewolves. They had taken one look at the Teddy Ruxpin, very nearly fainted and had jumped behind their sofas again while the Death Eaters watched in amazement and confusion. Izzy darted behind Rookwood's legs again. Fenrir was pinching the bridge of his nose at the antics of his pack.
"What just happened?" Rowle questioned.
"The bear!" the werewolves wailed.
"What? It's just a bear with a stupid name," Travers sneered.
"No it's not!" the wolves chorused again. "That bear is pure evil!"
There was a moment of disbelieving silence as the Death Eaters, Fenrir and Voldemort turned to look at the bear sitting innocently in its packaging.
"You're joking," Macnair snorted.
"No," Sebastian poked his head around the armchair Rabastan was still occupying. "My older brother had a Teddy Ruxpin once. It talked endlessly with my brother but when I tried to talk to it, it would ignore me. The same with Mum. Eventually Mum got spooked by the thing and took the batteries out and put it in a cupboard." Sebastian then gulped. "The next thing we heard was, 'Are you still there? I know you are there. It is dark in here' – it spoke without the batteries!"
The young wolf hid back behind the chair, shuddering.
The Death Eaters and werewolves were suddenly not as judgemental. Voldemort quietly thought it was best to keep the bear in its box for a little while longer.
It was Mulciber who saved the situation.
"Who wants to show us what the slinkies do?" he called.
That cheered the young wolves up quite quickly. What followed was an entire afternoon of the werewolves showing the Death Eaters how to have slinky races down the stairs; Mr. Mupples took to it very quickly.
What no one noticed was that while no one was looking, the Teddy Ruxpin had somehow managed to escape from its packaging on its own.
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The Saturday of the first trip to Hogsmeade, Harry got up with a sense of trepidation for the first time in a very long time. Today he would be forced to put up with Narcissa Malfoy and Tonks' mother, who was apparently her sister – Harry really had not seen that one coming at all. He had just survived a very interesting week of corresponding with Bellatrix about Mr. Mupples, who was now scaring everyone with his etch-a-sketch, telling Macnair about the awkward time that the Secret Spiller started blabbing in front of Snape about how Ron and Seamus thought he looked like a house elf, Voldemort shouting at him through the Link about the creepy Teddy Ruxpin that was apparently talking to Thalia and Nagini and to some of the other Inner Circle members, and then receiving letters from Macnair about the funny singing plushies Luna had sent.
Apparently the singing Thestrals had managed to lull Mr. Mupples and the Teddy Ruxpin to sleep.
There had been no new artworks by Blaise, Millicent or any of their fellow street artists. Harry was tempted to ask Ferrars and Kingsley if they were up to something on Thursday but he chickened out at the last minute.
Breakfast that Saturday was a very interesting affair to say the least.
"I am going to write your eulogy somewhere today," Seamus informed Harry with a grin.
"I hope you don't have Quidditch practise soon because your arms are going to be dead by the end of the day," Dean added as he poured himself some coffee, a Cheshire cat grin on his face.
Harry groaned dramatically. "Honestly boys, it's the shoes I am dreading the most!" he wailed.
"Yeah, you're going to die," Ginny chuckled evilly.
"I hope Narcissa makes you try outfits on," Hermione added, glowering at him.
"I mean, it could be worse," Ron tried to point out. "Mrs. Stick-In-The-Mud could have forced Harry to tend to her garden while the werewolves follow him around and ruin everything, forcing him to redo everything."
"Sssssssh! You might give them ideas!" Harry closed his ears.
Neville looked concerned. "Harry, they're not here-"
"Voldie is always here," came the ominous reply. "He hears everything, and sees everything …"
"Hey, when we arrange your funeral, can we invite Mr. Mupples?" Seamus added.
"Sure. Might as well invite Nagini and Thalia as well, but not Voldie. He is currently dealing with a possibly possessed Teddy Ruxpin and we all know possessed bears just ruin the atmosphere," Harry replied.
"It would be your funeral!" Hermione pointed out, shaking her head. "The atmosphere would already be ruined!"
"Er, no, because I want happy music to be played," Harry answered with a beaming smile. "I want Luna to be in charge of that because frankly, I don't trust you with it."
Hermione spluttered in indignation at hearing that; Ginny cracked a rib laughing.
"Would you like some coffee?" Neville asked, very concerned at this point.
"I would love some, thank you, Nev," Harry beamed.
Harry had managed to finish one cup of coffee and two crumpets before Professor McGonagall came to collect him and escorted him to the Headmaster's office. It was possibly for the first time in his life that Harry felt like he was being marched to his execution. Because there was not a shred of doubt in his mind that Narcissa Malfoy was going to make him suffer.
As for Lady Malfoy, she was already waiting for him with a very happy Albus Dumbledore and one other woman – she was basically a softer version of Narcissa and Bellatrix, with hooded eye lids, aristocratic features, bright grey eyes and dark curly hair. Both women were dressed in some beautiful but very old fashioned gowns; Harry already wanted to gulp. He was not going to enjoy this!
"-and I just managed to finish the socks in time for Yule otherwise Severus would not have had a Yule present. Ah, Minerva, good morning! Harry, my boy, I see you are ready for your shopping trip!"
Albus Too-Many-Middle-Names Dumbledore sounded way too happy for Harry's liking, considering he was being handed over to a Death Eater sympathiser and the mother of a trickster Metamorphagus for the day.
Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks turned their heads and their unblinking gazes bore into him. Narcissa's eyes were full of petty revenge and Andromeda's eyes were full of mirth, mischief and also a spot of payback.
"Mr. Potter," Andromeda greeted with a slight smirk. "I have heard much about you but it seems that what I heard did not even come close to the truth."
Harry swallowed a little. "Well, that would depend on what you have heard, ma'am," he responded as politely as he could manage.
"Pranking Death Eaters because you are bored out of your wits; sending lingerie and cheap, ugly dresses to my sister," Andromeda clarified.
"Ah, yes. That is what I have been up to lately," Harry agreed readily. "I only sent the lingerie and dresses once, though."
"Once is enough," Narcissa hissed. "I told my son to contact your mother from beyond the grave but apparently your father and godfather are as irritating in death as they were in life, and have stopped Draco from telling your mother what you have been up to!"
Harry blanched at this new information. He had not thought someone would use the Ouija board to contact Lily Potter!
"So, we are going to teach you a little about women's fashion so the next time you can pick something a little more tasteful," Andromeda stated jovially. "First we will go to Twilfitt and Tattings' in order to properly learn colour schemes for seasons and different skin tones; one cannot wear purple in the middle of May since it is an autumn colour. Then we will see if Madam Malkin can help educate you in boots and shoes since not even Twilfitt and Tattings have such good cobblers as she does. After that it will be accessories: hats, jewellery, handbags, purses, et cetera. For that we will head into Knockturn Alley since the hatter there is beyond reproach-"
Kill me now, was all Harry could think as he felt his brain already turning itself off and he was being dragged away by the two scions of House Black with Professor McGonagall shaking her head at him and Professor Dumbledore cheerily waving them off.
What furthered Harry's chagrin was not having to follow these two insane women from one shop to the other while taking notes – Andromeda had ensured he could not turn his quill into a Quick Note Quill with a spell – as the seamstresses in the shops and the two pureblood ladies blabbered on and on and on about cuts of a dress, undertones and what colours to avoid at each undertone, cuts of boots, different types of seasonal cloaks and which cloak went with which outfit.
What vexed Harry to the nth degree was that everyone in street looked set to alert the reporters at the Daily Prophet because they saw Narcissa Malfoy in the company of Harry Potter and her estranged sister Andromeda and simply would not stop ogling the group until they went down Knockturn Alley. Even in the creepy alley, there were sketchy witches, wizards and Dark creatures who could not believe what they were seeing.
Narcissa and Andromeda ignored them in favour of educating Harry on hat cuts, how to properly buy a statement piece of an outfit and which handbag and purses would go with which outfit, causing him to get a little bit of a headache.
Harry almost wanted to sing with happiness when the two women wanted to go and drink a cup of coffee, which meant he could finally sit down and try and sort out the endless stream of information that had been flung at him. As if he already didn't have an interesting day, Harry was just balled away by the fact Narcissa and Andromeda had ordered afternoon tea and started teaching him the order in which one properly ate the sandwiches and cakes.
Harry put up with it happily; he could not explain it but he got an idea of what he could have done with his own mother. He loved Molly Weasley as a surrogate mother, but this was … something else. Even afterwards, the Boy-Who-Was-Starved-Of-Motherly-Love put up with Narcissa and Andromeda's shopping spree uncomplainingly and carried their bags for them with a smile.
What broke Harry further, was the fact Andromeda had bought him one or two new sets of clothes too.
He had managed to keep himself composed, until Narcissa and Andromeda returned him to Hogwarts and Harry was escorted back to Gryffindor Tower by McGonagall, who was rather surprised that Harry had two shopping bags for himself.
"How was it, Potter?" McGonagall dared to ask on the way.
"Surprisingly … nice," Harry replied with a small sniff.
It just so happens that the Head of Gryffindor and Hogwarts' resident suicidal prankster met Draco, Blaise, Theo, Pansy, Daphne, Millicent, Vincent and Gregory on the way; Draco was going to meet his mother and he positively lit up when he saw Harry's melancholic expression.
"How was it, Potter? Did you faint after five minutes?" Draco asked eagerly.
It was at this point that the new Lord Black broke. Much to Heir Malfoy's surprise and utter shock – and to the shock of everyone else – Harry started crying.
"Your mother – sniff – is crazy but – sniff – wonderful! Your aunt – sniff – deserves a hug!" Harry managed to respond through blubbing. "I had the – sniff – best day – sniff – in a while. I know now what it feels like to have a mother to go on shopping trips with!"
That left the Slytherins feeling incredibly shellshocked. Not even his Head of House knew how to answer that.
"Whoa," Theo whispered as they continued on their way. "That was unexpected."
"Narcissa broke Potter," Daphne shook her head in disbelief.
"He now knows what it feels like to have a mother …" Vincent repeated despondently. "Man, that hurts."
"Yeah," Gregory agreed readily.
Draco snorted. "Oh please! I bet the Weasley mother already spoils him enough; he is exaggerating."
"No," Blaise sounded way too serious for his liking. "I don't think he was."
As for Narcissa and Andromeda, they both returned to their homes, satisfied with the day. What neither of them expected was a snowy owl at their windows later that same evening with a letter from Harry thanking them profusely for an awesome day and that he hoped Draco and Tonks appreciated any and all day outs they had with them.
Narcissa had read the letter in disbelief – most of the Inner Circle had practically cried with laughter – and Andromeda could not help but shed a few tears at reading hers.
Voldemort and Rabastan had been the only ones who had not laughed along. Bellatrix soon regretted laughing because Mr. Mupples ended up ignoring her for the rest of the evening, with an angry face on his etch-a-sketch.
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All right – this was Narcissa's revenge! It didn't end in the way she wanted but I think if Harry ever sends her another item of clothing, he will think twice before sending her the wrong colour XD.
Please continue sending me all your ideas for pranks and revenge pranks; I love them. They always make my day! I have also some news – I have a new job! I will be working at a local museum so I am very excited!
I will see you guys in the next moment of madness!
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