Disclaimer: I own nothing
The Crew Assembles
8:48 AM
On Halloween
Gryffindor Common Room
"Just let me try again, Goddammit!" ordered Harry, wearing a long dark wig and brown cloak. He was pointing his wand at Seamus, who was dressed up in a mullet wig, a blue flannel, and jeans and covering up the left side of his face, which was painted pitch black, with his hand.
"No!" resisted Seamus. "We've all tried the spell, it's not working!"
"The spell is working," pointed out Dean, sporting a fake mustache and a suit with a red tie. "We just can't get it to stop turning the rest of you blue,"
"Well, I tried washing this black shit off!" yelled Seamus. "But Harry here decided to get some sort of industrial grade shoe polish!"
"It's not my fault! I told you doing a double Mel Gibson costume was a stupid idea!" said Harry angrily. "It would be like if Dean wanted to be both Murtaugh and… I don't know, the black cowboy inSilverado,"
Dean's eyes lit up. "Wait, that's the same actor? That's my dad's favorite movie! Ron, you think I could…"
Ron, who was wearing a cowboy hat, jean jacket, and bolo tie, took a step back. He placed one hand on top of his head to secure his hat and pointed the other at Dean.
"Take it easy there, Yankee!" warned Ron with a southern twang.
"Look, we can't have any more mix and match costumes, alright?" said Harry to Dean, putting his foot down. "It's bad enough Seamus called an audible and decided he wanted to be Riggs andWilliam Wallace. Now he just looks like an asshole!"
"Speaking of mixing and matching costumes…" Neville stepped forward in his fake mustache, long wig and green bandana, looking down at his polo and jean shorts. "What the hell am I supposed to be anyway? I'm, like, sixty percent sure soldiers do not wear jean shorts,"
"That's how real soldiers dress!" assured Harry. "Trust me, I know one. He has like fifteen pairs. It's really absurd,"
"Why didn't you just turn the shoe polish blue first?" interrupted Parvati, wearing a red dress, rose bow and green leggings with a dot or two of dried blood.
"It wasn't labeled as shoe polish," explained Neville. "It was labeled as blue ink,"
"Which brings me back to my initial question…" growled Seamus, lowering at least one eyebrow (it was hard to tell as his other one had been painted over) at Harry "… why did you have a bunch of shoe polish in a jar labeled 'blue ink?!'"
"Same reason why I keep my shampoo in the shoe polish jar.," said Harry with a shrug "To keep people from stealing it,"
"Now, I's reckon this may be cause for controversy, you hear?" drawled Ron, twirling his bolo tie. "But wouldn't it be easier for y'all to just paint the rest of his face?"
"No!" said Harry and Dean emphatically.
"No one is doing blackface!"
"Right, and we can't have two Murtaughs at once! Besides, we used the last of the Super Glue attaching the mustaches for Dean and Neville,"
"Yeah and… wait, what?"
"Yeah bro, that's gonna be your guys' look for a while," nodded Harry.
Neville and Dean started feeling at their upper lips, eyes slowly getting wider. Before they could voice their objections, Hermione came storming into the Common Room.
"Where the hell have you all.." she stopped dead in her tracks, looking around at her dressed up classmates.
"Howdy!" waved Ron. He tipped his cowboy and let out a whistle. "Now, what brings a fine lil' lady like y'allself to our soirée here?"
Hermione blinked a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the absurdity of the room.
"What is happening?" asked Hermione.
"He's… deep in character," said Harry, more than a little regretfully.
"Harry got us all hyped up for Muggle Halloween!" grinned Lavender in her spotted jungle cat disguise.
"Is that why your dressed like a Goddamn… what are you, some sort of leopard girl?"
"I'm a Girl-Cheetah!" Lavender twirled around, brushing Hermione with her tail as she did. "You like it?"
"No," said Hermione flatly. "Also, it's technically a leopard because the spots are… you know what? It does not matter. Where in God's name did you get all these costumes?!"
"I had a whole trunk full of 'em," explained Harry. "Someone in this house has to prepare for shit. Fred and George even helped me resize them for everybody. I still got a few extra if you want,"
"No, I… are you supposed to be Aragorn?" asked Hermione, sounding more interested than judgmental.
"Who? No, I'm that dude from Lord of the Rings!" said Harry, gesturing to his costume. "I'm Vijoe Morganstine!"
Hermione stepped forward, leaned in, and whispered calmly into Harry's ear,
"I hope someone locks you in their cupboard, and keeps you there… for ten years,"
Hermione pulled away; expression neutral. Harry's eyes widened a bit as he attempted to laugh it off.
"Shiiiiit, Hermione!" spoke up Dean, trying his best to make the 'shit' sound like Murtaugh. "It's just a little bit of fun,"
Hermione turned to Dean, surprised. "Dean? Seamus? Seriously? Weren't you guys raised among Muggles? Surely, you're both old enough to know this is an absurd and outdated tradition,"
"The other night I had to write an essay by bloody hand on bloody parchment with a bloody quill," scoffed Seamus. "Don't get me started on 'absurd and outdated traditions,'"
Now that Seamus had turned towards Hermione, she could see the rest of his face.
"What in God's name happened to you?!" she asked, mortified.
"The shoe polish got mixed up with the blue ink, it was a whole ordeal," glossed over Seamus.
Hermione rolled her eyes and whipped out her wand.
"Colorvera Dexter Faciem!"
With that, the black that covered Seamus's face switched to blue. He went rushing over to the mirror, admiring his now complete costume.
"Come on, everyone!" Hermione demanded. "If we hurry, we can still make it to Charms!"
"Pfft, who goes to classes on Halloween?" laughed Harry.
"I don't know, maybe people in school?" answered Hermione sarcastically.
"Okay, let's take a vote. Who wants to dishonor this holiest of days that has for time eternal been dedicated to pranks, candy, booze, and every other awesome thing in life by going to class, raise their hand,"
Hermione shot hers up immediately. Inexplicably, she managed to look shocked that she was the only one.
"And whoever doesn't suck, raise their hands,"
All the hands, save Hermione's, shot up.
"Huh. Reason has prevailed," said Harry, chuckling. "Well, Hermione, if you still wanted to make it to class, I guess you should probably get-"
"Come to class, or I'll tell Professor Flitwick you skipped…" Hermione gave a nasty grin. "I'll also tell him it was you who sent that ransom note demanding his pot of gold."
Harry stopped laughing.
"Okay, first of all, it wasn'thispot of gold I was demanding. I just thought he knew the leprechaun that owed Charlie the gold. And secondly, as it turns out, Flitwick isn't a leprechaun. So it wasn't… technicallya hate crime!"
"Hmm… I guess we'll have to see how Professor Flitwick feels about that," said Hermione.
Harry scowled.
"Alright, fine. You sure you don't want to be Serpico though, Hermione?" asked Harry. He sounded annoyed, but he still held up the costume for her to get a better look. "If you're going to nag everyone about the rules, you can at least be festive about it,"
"No!" she declined angrily.
"Well, the only other ones left are Taiwan Tammy and Martina Martinez, which are kinda…"
Hermione had already stormed out of the Common Room. Harry shrugged and followed her with the rest. The Hufflepuffs were already seated when they arrived, each
"Good to see the Gryffindor's decided to join…" Flitwick stopped after he waddled from behind the podium. His tiny eyes moved quickly across the room, absorbing the variety of costumes before him. "… what's all this?"
Hermione straightened her collar and was about to step forward when Harry stretched his arm out to block her. Harry stepped forward himself.
"Our bad, Professor," said Harry in a tone that could be called innocent if no one had met him before. "I was just telling the other Gryffindors about Muggle Halloween and how everyone always dresses up in a costume. Guess they could tell I was feeling homesick, so they all decided to do a costume to make me feel better. Well except Hermione, who said she hated holidays… and orphans… and little pe-umph!"
Hermione kicked the back of his right leg. Harry barely stopped himself from falling over.
"Bitch,"he muttered under his breath.
"Well… ten points for enriching us with your native culture, Mr. Potter. And three points to each of you Gryffindors who went along with this," squeaked Flitwick.
Hermione looked like she had been forced to swallow a baby toad. She plopped down in an empty seat along the aisle. Ron and Harry, against their better judgment, decided to sit near her to better flaunt their victory.
Flitwick proceeded to explain that they would be learning the levitation charm. He demonstrated by lifting his desk high above his head. Harry was so caught up in the display he almost forgot how pissed he was at Hermione for dragging them all to class. That respite only lasted until they began working themselves, and Hermione began lecturing them on their first attempt.
"You're doing it all wrong. You need to swishandflick," corrected Hermione. "Also, it'slev-i-o-sa,notlev-i-o-sar,"
"Now, I say, I say, I say, that's just damn preposterous, you bitch," said Ron casually as he continued flicking his wand.
Hermione rolled her eyes, desensitized to the frequent profanity. She pointed her wand at the feather, swishing and flicking.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The feather flew towards the ceiling. Professor Flitwick hopped up with glee.
"Well done, Miss Granger! You've done it! 20 points to Gryffindor!"
Hermione grinned to herself, only for the grin to fade as she noticed all her other classmates were avoiding eye contact with her. Flitwick, however, continued.
"I see now that I underestimated you first years. Not to worry!"
The classroom groaned as Flitwick transfigured their feathers into stones.
PAGE BREAK*
"'It'sLEVIOSA, notLEVIOSAR!'" said Ron, dropping the Texas oilman accent to imitate Hermione in a pretentious, high-pitched tone. "She's a nightmare! No wonder she hasn't got any friends!"
"Dude, I have no idea how Lavender and Pavarotti or whoever can take rooming with her. How haven't they shoved a pillow in her face yet?" wondered Harry aloud.
"Maybe they're just scared they'll get caught? They're the only ones in the room with her, after all. Plus, you can't say they don't have a damn good motive."
"We could give them an alibi if they want. Shit, this school doesn't even have electricity, I doubt they have DNA testing. Plus, they'd be doing everyone a favor. Literally no one likes-"
Hermione stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Harry's and Ron's bravado dropped as they exchanged slightly ashamed looks.
"I-I think she heard you," said Dean uncomfortably, looking back towards Harry and Ron with Seamus.
"Damn. Didn't want her to hear any of that," said Harry regretfully as Ron nodded.
Even behind the Murtaugh mustache Dean seemed bewildered. Seamus just scowled.
"What the- you arseholes were sittin' right next to her!" snapped Seamus, exasperated. "We're still in bloody Charms!"
"You know who else sucks? Seamus," said Ron.
"Damn straight!" agreed Harry. "That dumb mick has no idea who-ouch!"
"Oof!"
Harry and Ron both rubbed the identical stone sized bumps on their heads as Seamus returned to work with a smug grin.
The Great Hall was adorned in ornate decorations for Halloween. Scarecrows, skeletons, cobwebs and hundreds if not thousands of Jack o' Lanterns rested on and floated above the tables. The tables themselves were lined with decadent desserts and treats from the Muggle and Wizarding world alike.
"A dry Halloween Party," Harry muttered to himself. "What other horrors will England think of next? AIDS for babies?"
"We're not in England, genius," grumbled Ron, absently poking at his cake with his fork
Harry frowned. "Still thinking about Hermione, huh,"
Ron averted eye contact but nodded his head slightly. They had heard from Parvati Patil that Hermione was still crying in the girl's room.
"Yeah, I don't feel too great about it either," admitted Harry. "It's so weird, though. We're eleven. Would've thought we'd be over it by now."
"What do you mean?" asked Ron, looking back up.
"Like, feelings and shit." explained Harry. "Dennis always told me that as you get older, you lose most of 'em. Well, besides rage. Did your dad and brothers not mention this?"
"No…" said Ron, shaking his head slowly. "Wait, is Dennis the one that killed Mrs. Norris's human form?"
"Bingo,"
"Okay, that makes sense,"
The doors to the Great Hall flung open. Professor Quirrell came running inside.
"TROLL! TROLL, ESCAPED FROM THE DUNGEONS! TROLL!" he yelled before collapsing on the floor. All the students began to scream.
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"
"OH, DEAR MERLIN, SAVE US!"
"LOOT! LOOT! LOOT!" yelled Harry, cramming silverware and goblets into his robe and book bag.
"SILENCE!" boomed Dumbledore's voice over the Great Hall. Everyone stopped and turned to the headmaster. "All students will be escorted to their dorms by their prefects. The staff and I will handle the troll incident. No need to worry, the feast will continue in your respective dorms."
They all stood up and lined together with their houses, prefects directing the crowd. They exited through the doors of the Great Hall and towards the stairwell. Before turning a corner, Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulder. He turned to face him, his eyes as wide as the saucers that were still clunking around in Harry's bag.
"Hermione!" whispered Ron. "She still doesn't know about the troll!"
"How is that our…" Harry stopped. His eyes widened. "… Oh my God, I know how to stop it!"
Without another word, they both went sprinting to the girl's bathroom. The door had already been smashed to pieces. By the time they got inside, a massive grayish green troll with a twisted nose and large wooden club was leering down at a fear-stricken Hermione.
"Hermione, don't move!"
Hermione and the troll broke off eye contact and turned to the pair. Harry and Ron dug into their pockets. Ron pulled out his wand, but Harry instead pulled out a small coin bag. He tossed it to the troll, who caught it with his free hand. The creature weighed the bag in his massive green palm and shook it by his ear to hear the coins clatter inside. The troll gave a snort, nodded to Harry and waddled to the exit. Hermione and Ron both raised their eyebrows towards Harry.
"… What was that all about?" asked Ron.
"Oh, I just had to pay the toll," answered Harry like it was nothing.
"Toll?" repeated Hermione.
"The Troll Toll," explained Harry, his diction taking on a strangely rhythmic quality. "If we wanted to get the girl's soul, we had to pay the troll toll."
Ron snorted immaturely until he saw Hermione raise her wand at Harry.
"Say that again," she demanded through gritted teeth. "Slowly."
Harry cocked up an eyebrow. "What? What did you think I said?"
"Sounded like you said girl's…" Hermione looked like she was going to be sick. "I don't even want to repeat it!"
"Sounded like you said girl's hole, mate," giggled Ron.
Harry gasped. "What?! No, nothole,soul! S-O-U-L!"
Hermione clutched her chest, releasing a deep sigh of relief. "Oh,phew. Thank Merlin. For a second there I thought… wait, why did you say soul then?"
"Well, that's how the song goes," answered Harry.
"Song?"
Before Harry could explain, Professors McGonagall and Quirrell came storming into the bathroom, with Professor Snape limping in closely behind them.
"The troll was -You two?!" shouted McGonagall as she pointed between Harry and Ron. "Explain yourselves!"
"-Well, Harry ate some weird candy that made his-"
"-No, ignore him! He's clearly been driven mad by-"
"It was my fault, Professor," spoke up Hermione. Everyone in the room turned to her, she cast her eyes down at the ground. "I had been reading about Trolls since I got my Hogwarts' letter. I thought I'd be able to stop it myself when I heard. But if it weren't for Harry and Ron… I'd probably be dead,"
McGonagall turned back to Harry and Ron.
"Is this true?"
"Uh, yes?"
"Sure… I mean, yeah!"
She looked at the two suspiciously for a moment before turning back to Hermione.
"Well, that was obviously a poor plan on your part, Miss Granger," said McGonagall, disappointed. "I expected better from you. Five points from Gryffindor! As for you two…
She looked back to Harry and Ron "Count yourselves as lucky. Not many first years would run after a mountain troll and live to talk about it. Five points to Gryffindor each, for sheer dumb luck!"
Before Harry could do anything, Hermione winked at him and let out an audible sigh. The three professors turned, with Snape wincing as he did so.
"Anything else, Miss Granger?" asked McGonagall.
"Well… it's just that Harry had to pay the Troll Tole out of his own pocket," sighed Hermione. "It only feels right that the school would reimburse him for such an expense,"
"Hey, yeah! Troll tolls ain't cheap!" Harry played along, fighting back a smile.
"Very well…" said McGonagall reluctantly. "How much did you pay for the troll, Mr. Potter?"
"…200 Galleons?" said Harry hesitantly
All three Professors looked at each other, hopeful that between the three of them one would know the typical going rate for a Troll Toll. When none of them spoke up. McGonagall sighed.
"Very well, Mr. Potter. A deposit will be made for you in your vault at Grin-"
"-I'd really prefer cash, if it's all the same to you," asserted Harry.
McGonagall frowned "Now, Mr. Potter, surely you'd agree it'd be more prudent if-"
"-Ugh, let's just pay the brat and be done with this!" winced Snape, digging through his pocket.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "What's the hurry, Severus?"
Snape started to sweat. He winced once again. "Uh… it's just that, um… it's been a long day, so quicker we get this matter re-"
"HOLY SHIT!" exclaimed Harry, jumping a step back. "Snape, you're bleedingprofusely!"
"That'sProfessorSnape to -oh, Merlin!" Snape's scowl dropped as he looked down in horror at his blood-stained robes. McGonagall gasped. Quirrell looked like he was about to keel over. The three Gryffindors took a step back.
"What the hell happened to you?!" asked Harry, wide eyed.
"None of your concern, Potter!" snapped Snape, wincing once again as he tried applying pressure to the wound.
"Now, it's a fair question Severus," charged McGonagall. "Why are you bleeding all over the place?!"
Snape's eyes quickly darted to Quirrell, whose squeamishness had given way to curiosity. Snape looked back to McGonagall with pleading eyes.
"I-I'll explain later," he assured. "Let's just be done with this first."
McGonagall groaned and started digging through her pockets. When she noticed neither of the two other professors moving and only eyeing her confused, she scowled.
"Don't think I'm the only one paying him!" she snapped.
Snape growled and started digging through his own pockets. Quirrell started to stutter.
"B-b-but I m-make l-l-less-"
"You've already botched this whole operation, you imbecile! Just give them your Goddamn gold!"
Everyone came to a stop.
"What wasthat?"asked McGonagall, looking all around.
Quirrell's eyes bulged.
"T-t-t-two p-points for pro-pro-profanity, Mr. We-Weasley!" he forced out before rummaging through his cloak. Ron jerked his head around half expecting to see Fred or George. Harry and Hermione looked at each other confused.
Before they could say anything, McGonagall was stuffing a large brown bag in Harry's hand. Harry grinned as he looked inside to see the gold
"There you are, Mr. Potter," she said before leaning forward to whisper. "If you don't cover the spread against Slytherin, Merlin help me I'll-"
"Hang on a second!" shouted Harry, alarmed. "How much did Snape put in here?"
"More than enough," he grumbled.
Harry let out a yelp and tossed the bag on the floor.
McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose. "What now?"
"Oh no I'm not touching those coins unless Snape here takes an AIDs test!"
Snape looked as if he was going to explode "I don't have AIDs, you stupid little-"
McGonagall scoffed, whipping out her wand. She pointed it inside the bag,
"Terego!"she picked up the bag and thrusted it back in Harry's hands "There, Happy?"
Harry looked at the bag, eyebrow raised.
"How do I know that spell works at a cellular level?" asked Harry skeptically.
"Take it or leave it," countered McGonagall. Harry shrugged, taking the coins. "Now if you'll excuse us, Snape needs a healer… oh, and we still have a bloody troll running around!"
"Now, I'm not saying I condone you stealing…" said Hermione, savoring a bite of her caramel apple "But this isso awesome!"
"Cheers to that!" said Harry. They clinked three of the goblets Harry had snagged from the Great Hall.
After taking a drink, Hermione looked at Harry hesitantly.
"So, now that we're…" Hermione gulped. "…Friends…"
For some reason, Hermione looked like she had just pulled the pin on a hand grenade. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. What is it?"
Hermione's eyes brightened a little bit at that. "Oh, so… what's with the accent?"
Ron put down his chocolate and nodded slowly. Harry frowned.
"What do you guys mean?" asked Harry. "I talk exactly like you do?"
"Well, yeah…" said Ron hesitantly.
"… minus a lot of the cursing and the Americanism…"
"You guys' curse plenty too," pointed out Harry.
"Now, I can't speak for Hermione, but I will say I've started cursing a lot more since meeting you," said Ron candidly. "But my mum would probably make my arse sleep outside if I said half this shit at home. Probably rent my room out to a-"
"Hang on," interrupted Harry, confused. "You have your own room?"
"Yeah," answered Ron.
"But... I thought you said you guys were broke?" frowned Harry.
"We…are," admitted Ron after some thought. "But we still have our own rooms at least. Well, except Fred and George. They say it's just a comfort thing, but-"
"-Getting past that," interrupted Hermione before they could veer into any more about Ron's family's sleeping arrangements. She turned to Harry, who's eyes were cast down on the reflection in his plate. "If you grew up in America, how do you have a British accent?"
Harry shot his head back up and rolled his eyes. "Oh,that.See, Dee has all these racist characters with terrible accents, so I bet her could do an English accent that would sound way more convincing. It worked, but… I couldn't turn it off,"
"Huh…" Hermione nodded along. "Don't take this the wrong way, but there's something…unnaturalabout imagining you with anything other than a British accent,"
"Nah, I get that," agreed Harry. "Unfortunately, it makes playing Level 2 of CharDee MacDennis hard as shit,"
"Speaking of accents," Ron adjusted his cowboy hat. "Should I still be-"-
"Wait a second!" Harry interrupted. His expression turned feverish, a grin sweeping across his face. "Hermione, you're thebrains…"
Hermione made a face. "What? I mean, thank you and all but-"
Harry pointed to himself "…I'm thelooks..."
"Debatable," muttered Hermione.
Finally, he pointed at Ron "… and Ron's thewildcard!"
Ron's eyes lit up. "That sounds awesome!"
"It is! That's three of the five right there!" said Harry, rubbing his hands together.
Hermione and Ron gave each other questioning looks, hopeful that the other had some clue as to what Harry was taking about. When it became clear that neither of them did, Hermione looked back at Harry "What do you mean?"
"Think about it: Hermione, who are the types of people behind the most successful organizations in the history of the world?"
Hermione pondered it for a moment. "An operation and or engineering expert, a charismatic salesperson, a financial savant, a-"
"-okay, maybe the terminology is different in British," cut off Harry. "You know what? That's on me. The correct answer: looks, brains, wildcard, muscle, and useless chick,"
"Uselesswhat?" Hermione hissed.
"That's the beauty of you being the brains though. Now, we can just have anyone as the useless member,"
Hermione's eyes cooled "Oh. So, who'd you have in mind for the other two spots?"
Harry pondered for a moment. "Well, Fred and George are cool, I-"
Ron hopped up; his face flushed."No!"
Harry and Hermione both looked at the panicked boy, bewildered at his outburst. Ron uncomfortably lowered himself back in the chair.
"Uhh… it'd be… too confusing to have both of them. Especially in such different positions," said Ron, trying to sound calm.
Harry scratched his chin. "Hmm, true. Didn't think about that. Plus, we'd have to worry about the ratio."
"The what?" asked Hermione.
"We have more than half of our group being gingers, we'd become looked at as a ginger group. Which obviously isn't ideal," explained Harry, shaking his head.
"Oh, okay then," said Hermione, slowly nodding. Ron seemed a bit less than thrilled with the explanation but moved ahead.
"How about Dean or Seamus?" asked Ron.
Harry mulled it over, but shook his head. "Nah. Dean's been a little weird ever since the thing with the nipples-"
"-the thing with the wha-"
"-And we'd still be running into ratio problems with both of them,"
Hermione stopped, her question about the nipples thankfully forgotten. Her eyebrows remained up, however.
"Okay… I don't even want to know what ratio you're talking about for Dean-"
"-That's for the best-"
"-but how does it apply to Seamus?"
"I feel like two Irish guys in the group is a bit much, you know?" explained Harry.
Ron frowned. "Mate, you know I'm not Irish, right? I just have red hair,"
"I'm talking about me," said Harry, as if it were obvious.
"Huh? Nothing I read said anything about the Potter's being Irish," said Hermione, surprised
"Maybe not, but I grew up in an Irish pub, so being Irish is part of my identity at this point. Right up there with wizard… oh, and being the Golden Demigod."
Ron and Hermione blinked at him. Before they could ask him anything, Harry snapped his fingers.
"Oh, right, Neville!"
"Neville isn't…" Hermione indignance collapsed as she mulled it over "…completelyuseless,"
Harry shrugged. "I was actually thinking him for muscle,"
"What?" asked Hermione and Ron in unison. Both looked at Harry confused for a moment before Ron leaned in.
"Mate… you do remember Neville got his arse kicked by a broom, right?" he asked slowly.
"Yeah, but that's now. Give me a few years of having him under my wing, I can probably manipulate him into being some sort of super soldier before we graduate,"
Ron shrugged. But Hermione seemed to have reservations.
"I'm not sure how I feel about tricking kids into becoming our own personal militia… but as long as it doesn't become a recurring theme, I suppose-"
"-Excellent! One down and one to go,"
"Ok. The question is: who's the most useless person here who also has a bunch of money at his disposal?" asked Hermione.
Harry and Ron looked at each other and groaned.
NOVEMBER 1ST
"Well, well, well…" said Malfoy conceitedly, propping his feet on the library table. Across from him sat Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione sat straight, doing her best to look proper. Ron sat their looking crazy and capable of anything as per Harry's instructions (which wasn't that hard of a challenge when dealing with Malfoy). Harry meanwhile leaned way back in his chair, pouting with his arms folded like a child forced to sit through a two-hour long mass. Neville hovered over the table, looking stern. If nothing else, he was taking his role as muscle or 'play bodyguard,' as he understood it, very seriously. "Look who comes crawling to me when they need something,"
"Did you not hear anything we just said, bozo?" snapped Harry. "We only need you because of how useless you are!"
"I have selective hearing," smirked Malfoy, relishing how angry Harry looked. "Also, hypothetically, I would plan to usurp Weasley of his 'Wildcard,' duties soon enough,"
"Like hell you would, you-" started Ron angrily. He stood up, but Neville quickly grabbed him by his collar. Neville looked him in the eyes intensely as Ron feebly raised his hands to show he meant no harm.
"Wrong!" Harry snapped. "Not you, Ron. Flying off the handle when threatened, that was very wildcard. But Neville, the muscle isn't supposed to stop the wildcard from doing his thing unless it might harm a member of the gang,"
Ron pumped his fist. Neville loosened his grip and stuttered.
"B-b-but I thought the point was to recruit Malfoy?"
"He's not a member of The Crew yet, pay attention!" ordered Harry. Neville looked downwards, mumbling an apology
"Hmm, impressive," admitted Draco.," Not even I have Crabbe or Goyle on that tight leash."
"Oh, I'm just getting started on him," smiled Harry with childlike glee, before he forced his face back into a scowl. "But can you help us or not?"
"Your proposal is… interesting, to say the least," commented Draco, glancing down on the document of the contract, org chart and particularly the financial model (for which Hermione did the projections and Harry, much to Hermione's chagrin, did the drawings of gorgeous women with heaving breasts) in front of him. He looked back up and snarled "There's only two problems: I hate all of you, and you all hate me."
"We don't-" started Hermione.
"I do!" cut in Ron.
"I'm not sure if we've been formally introduced, so it's hard to say I 'hate' you," conceded Neville. "But I gotta be honest: this first impression isn't great."
"I honestly don't give a shit about him specifically," admitted Harry. "But if this is going to work, I want an apology for calling The Gang filth."
"No," said Draco, crossing his arms.
"Wait, THAT is what you were so mad about?!" said Hermione to Harry, her jaw dropping. "I thought he said somethingreallyterrible!"
Harry shrugged. "What? Why wouldn't I be mad about that?"
Hermione just stared at him in disbelief. "Harry, you've called me the… thec-word!"
"So? That was before we were friends."
"You called me one this morning!"
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have woken me up so early!"
"It was 9:30!"
"It's a weekend!"
"No, it's not!"
"Let's table this shit for now," cut in Ron. "Bottom line, I refuse to work with some pompous puff like Malfoy."
Malfoy stood up "And I refuse to work with a poorly bred derelict Weasley!"
Ron hopped up too "I'll show you poorly bred, you bastard son of a-"
"Enough!"snapped Hermione, getting both boys' attention. "Honestly! All that I've read about blood feuds and warring families throughout wizarding history in the United Kingdom, and no one in this entire school ever brings up there's as much as you two!"
"Hate to spoil it for you, Granger, but most of the time the losing families all wind up dead," pointed out Malfoy. "Unfortunately, the Weasley's breed too fast to kill off,"
"And Malfoy women always seem to find a blond tennis instructor or horse master nine months before popping out a supposed heir," added Ron with a grimace.
Draco lunged across the table, grabbing at Ron. Neville, being the muscle, moved to separate them, but whimpered back as Malfoy ripped the fake mustache off his lip. Ron grabbed at Draco as well and prepared to take a swing when Hermione cut in.
"Why don't you just explain it to us then?" suggested Hermione. The two let go of each other's ties.
"Huh?"
"What do you mean, Hermione?"
"Yeah, why don't both of you calmly explain the whole disagreement between your families," said Hermione diplomatically. She pulled out a small hourglass, flipped it on the table. "You've got a minute. Go!"
Hermione said the last part with a sly smile. Harry gave her a nod of approval, and leaned back, resting the back of his head in his hands. Both Ron and Draco looked at each other nervously. They looked back at Harry, Hermione, and Neville, who were all waiting patiently for them to start. Both of their mouths opened but hardly any sound came out.
"Uhhh… Malfoy can go first-"
"-Weasley can go… well, you see… there are…certain traditions. And sometimes traditions are… good…"
"… and some of them… aren't good… such as…"
"… and they want to stop us from… doing the… the things… and then there's the gold…"
"…well…there's such a thing as good and evil, Hermione. Read the Prophet… and then…"
"…and going further back… William the Conqueror…"
"…and they want to stop us from returning our gold back to us…"
The last grain of sand fell.
"…Annnnd times up!" said Hermione, snatching back the hourglass. Ron slammed his fist on the table. Draco hopped up, pink as a flamingo.
"Goddamnit!" he screamed "It's not fair! How am I supposed to explain myself without anger or personal attacks?!"
"It's bloody impossible!" added Ron with a growl.
"See? You guys are already agreeing on things. Cool. Now onto the real beef." said Harry, lowering his eyebrows. "I want that apology,"
Draco scoffed "Well, that's not going to happen,"
Harry leaned back and folded his arms. "Well, then… you ain't joining the crew."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "That's it? You aren't going to threaten me? No spit? No poison? No trying to break my neck? Nothing?" He almost sounded disappointed.
Harry chuckled. "Newsflash, asshole: I'm threatening you right Goddamn now."
Ron, Neville, and even Hermione looked confused. Draco, however, seemed to twitch slightly. His skin grew slightly paler.
"W-what do you mean?" asked Draco, trying his best to sound confused.
"Because, if you don't join us right now, you'll be left conversing amongst the mongrells and swine that is this year's batch of Slytherins," said Harry menacingly
"They're not…" Draco started quietly, but something in him snapped. "Oh, who am I kidding?! They all bloodysuck! Crabbe and Goyle are idiots, Pansy's a bitch, Tracey's forgettable as Binn's lectures, Blaise's mother's a murderous whore and he's, like,superracist, Millie's a cow bitch, Daphne will just start ranting that she's an Ice Goddess or whatever the shit she goes on about and then disappears for days on end, and I'm pretty sure Theo hasn't spoken since he saw his dad murder his mom or something-"
"Huh?" interjected Neville.
"What was that last part?!" asked Hermione, alarmed.
"Who bloody cares?! Not me!" Malfoy was standing now, face all red. It looked like he might cry. "I can't take it anymore! If I'm stuck with them for the rest of my time at Hogwarts, I swear to Merlin I'm going to toss myself in front of an angry hippogriff by the time we're in Third Year!"
"What's a hippogriff?" wondered Harry aloud.
"Kind of a half eagle, half horse," explained Ron.
"Woah, that'd actually be badass!" said Harry excitedly.
"Suicide by hippogriff isn't badass!" chastised Hermione.
"Agree to disagree," Harry turned back to Draco before Hermione could argue with him. "The point is: you could stick with the swine and savages in Slytherin, or you can get the most out of this school and the most out of yourself by joining an elite class of wizards and gentlemen alike,"
Draco's eyes darted across the other four children. "… Elite's kind of overselling it, don't you th-"
"You want in or not, bozo?" snapped Harry.
"Yes!" said Draco, so quickly he even surprised himself. He straightened his collar. "Errr… if anything I said offended you… I'm sorry that you didn't understand the context."
Harry leaned forward and blinked. "What wasthat?"
"Was it that bad?" cringed Draco.
"Yeah," said Hermione point blank, as Neville nodded along uncomfortably.
"Okay, let me try again," Draco took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that… you're so insecure that you think you need an apology?"
"Dude, what the hell?!" Harry stood up, closing his fists. Draco raised his hands defensively.
"Look, I'm not an expert on this!" pleaded Draco. "I've never had to apologize for anything before! How do you normally do it?"
"Oh, me? I don't," answered Harry blankly. "Apologizing Is for suckers,"
"What the- so why does it matter whether-"
"You know what?" Ron pulled out his wand. "I'm just gonna wildcard things along here,"
Draco shook his head. "No. Don't you dare make 'wildcard' a verb, you son of a-"
"-Wingardum Leviosa!"
Malfoy's face filled with panic as he went floating up towards the ceiling. His limbs flailed wildly as he levitated up higher and higher.
"AGH! I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYJUSTLETMEDOWN!"babbled Malfoy.
"Nowthat'swildcarding!" laughed Harry, wrapping his arm around Ron's shoulder. "Alright, that's good enough for me. Let him down,"
Ron was still smiling, but his eyes blanked "Eh?"
Hermione scoffed, casting out her wand. "Declinosa!"
Draco went falling onto the floor with a thud. He picked himself up using the desk, brushed himself off, and glared at Hermione.
"You couldn't have done it any softer?" he seethed.
"I panicked," shrugged Hermione, her voice nothing but calm. Draco glared at her a moment longer before turning to Harry.
"Satisfied, Potter?"
"Hmm… not until you sign the contract,"
"Alright, alright! I still don't see why I'm signing it when I already agreed to it though," grumbled Draco as he dipped his quill in the inkwell.
"Dennis always says 'When something's in writing that makes it official, then there's nothing anyone can do to stop me,'" quoted Harry proudly.
Draco's quill stopped midway to the parchment. He raised his head, eyeing Harry suspiciously. He looked back down at the top of the parchment, and began to read through it again.
"Most of the penalties are unenforceable, anyway," assured Hermione. Draco let out a sigh of relief and went back to signing.
"Yeah, that's what they think," whispered Harry to Ron. Ron started to snicker before his face fell.
"Wait, what about the one I-"
"Alright, on to Phase Two," said Harry, banging on the desk like a set of drums before standing up. "As you're all aware, there is a giant three headed dog guarding the third floor corridor-"
Draco went pale. "Wait, what?!"
Neville looked faint, his muscle persona dropping entirely. "Th-that wasn't a nightmare?!"
"…Oh. Guess I skipped over that part," shrugged Harry. "But anyway, beneath the guard dog is a trap door that leads to some sort of treasure. Now, I'm not saying it's not where they're keeping the kegs, but odds are it's some magical artifact or-"
"Wait, what makes you think there's a treasure?" interrupted Draco
"Why else would there be a giant, three headed dog in the bloody school?" asked Ron sardonically
"I don't know, why was there a troll in the school?" pushed back Draco.
"Wait, yeah, why was there a troll?!" asked Hermione, her face getting red.
Ron raised an eyebrow. "What do you care about the troll?"
"What do I - it nearly killed me!"
"Well, yeah, but you were fine once Harry paid the toll."
Draco cocked his head "Toll?"
"The troll toll!" snapped Harry, Ron, and Hermione angrily.
"How am I suppose to know what that-"
"Hang on," said Neville over Draco. Everyone turned to him. "… there was a troll?!"
Harry sighed as the other four kept arguing over each other. He was more than use to a conversation about a scheme being derailed by talk of trolls and whatnot. Luckily, The Gang also taught him how to take back control of any conversation: screaming the loudest.
"WHAT ARE WE?!"
The other four stopped and looked back at Harry, all silent.
"We're wizards! We have a sworn duty to protect artifacts from those who steal them!"
"We… we do?" whispered Neville. His question was met with shrugs from all but Harry.
"Of course we do!" declared Harr adamantly. "If not us, who else?! The police? The suits in Washington? The stupid science bitches?!"
"Hell no!" Draco slammed his fist on the table. Whether it was the sound it made against the table or the baffled looks his new friends gave him, whatever came over him quickly subsided. He sheepishly shoved his hand back beneath the table, and looked back at Harry as if nothing has happened. Harry brushed it off and hopped up onto the table. Like a prophet, the words of the Golden God spoke through him with the speech from the hamburger store several years earlier.
"These people think they can waltz in and take our artifacts?! That they can just hoard our riches like a greedy dragon hiding out in a mountain atop a pile of gold?! That we're just going to sit back and take it?! Maybe some other day, when we weren't paying attention or when we had other shit going on, but not today! For before us, we have assembled an elite team of individuals who will stop at nothing to take back what is rightfully ours and I am proud to lead every last one of you on this sacred mission, for which the ages will recall us for eternity! We shall be in and out like a demon's whisper! I have the grace of a falcon and the speed of a gazelle to lead us to victory! The glory is ours!"
Harry stopped to catch his breath. He looked down at the four speechless faces. Harry could feel his cheeks getting hot. He hopped off the table, took his seat, and pulled it in. He was about to wind things back when Neville smiled from ear to ear.
"That was awesome!" he exclaimed
"I don't give a shit if there's another head coming out of its arsehole, I'm in!" piled on Ron.
Harry tilted his head. "You guys are all in?"
"Of course we're in, you dunce," snapped Malfoy, annoyed. "You think I'm going to sit here, listen to a rousing speech, and then just not be in on this like some sort of jabroni? Christ, use your brain,"
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione, who was uncharacteristically quiet as she sorted through her thoughts.
"I mean, there were several leaps in logic that quite frankly made no sense," opined Hermione. Harry's chest fluttered for a moment. "But yes, it still riled me up,"
"Oh, I amgood!" said Harry proudly. Before he could continue the debrief, Filch and Madam Pince came barging into the library. Madam Pince's wrists were bound in duct tape, with the end of a brass faucet stuck at the end. She frantically looked around the room until she found their table.
"That's him!" screeched Madam Pince, pointing the faucet in Harry's direction. "That's the one who duct taped me to the bathroom sink!"
Harry had no idea how she could have escaped from the duck tape so fast. Perhaps he should have borrowed some of the zip ties from Dennis as well. He turned back to the group. Hermione was scowling at him. Neville's eyes were as big as plates.. Draco was completely lost. Ron was choking back laughter. Still, they were all looking at him.
"Welp, time for our Crew's first team assignment…" said Harry, nodding at the other four. In a flash, they all went running out of the library as Filch and Madam Pince chased after them.
RIP Maggie Smith
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