AN: I'm somehow not dead. Dunno how that worked out. Anyways, here's a new chapter. Enjoy!
In the wee hours of too-fucking-early-AM, Ron had arisen. He dressed silently and successfully maneuvered through the second-year dorm without waking any of his year-mates. It was still hours before dawn when he snuck into the castle proper, free to carry out whatever his current scheme involved.
Though he was completely undisturbed by Ron's escape, Harry was rudely yanked from the embrace of slumber when the rising sun lasered his eyelids through the tiniest gap in his bed curtains. After several minutes of grumbling under his breath and nearly falling out of his bed, Harry roughly shoved his glasses on. Seeing Ron's bed long since vacant, his mind slammed into high gear, the terror of Ron being unsupervised painfully jolting Harry's body with a rush of adrenaline. Nearly tripping again, he scrambled to throw open a window and chuck a half-asleep Hedwig out of the tower.
Hermione and half of her dorm woke up when Hedwig slammed into the window with a loud BANG! Lavender was still heavily snoring as the snowy owl circled around for another pass, but she too fell out of bed with a scream as Hedwig crashed through the window, sending glass skittering across the floor.
Hermione stared, and Hedwig gazed back vacantly. It wasn't until the owl gave a hoot that, finally, Hermione got moving. In her haste to dress and get to Harry (for surely this was an emergency), she took no notice of the unusually sounding 'hoot' Hedwig had made.
Unsure of whether their worry spawned from Ron finding trouble or causing trouble, Harry and Hermione frantically searched the castle, but all they found was graffiti of hate speech slandering Mrs Norris and an abnormally large blueberry near the astronomy tower. But their luck turned, when from the high vantage, Harry's seeker-sharp eyes glimpsed a splotch of red, and so the two hastened down to the grounds.
When they finally found him, Ron was fiddling with a noodle and a metal cylinder a few metres into the Forbidden Forest. He looked up as his two friends approached.
"Morning," he said cheerfully.
"Morning," Harry replied in an equally pleasant tone.
Clutching her skull in frustration, Hermione nearly screamed at the completely unbothered demeanours of her two friends. Drawing a few deep calming breaths, she finally asked, "What is that, Ron?"
"This? Oh, it's a can of pure aerosol that I dumped some raspberry jam into." He gestured to a discarded jar.
"What're you trying to do, make NAPALM?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Yes."
Harry dimmed somewhat. "I was joking."
"I wasn't." Ron tied off a knot, connecting the noodle to the can. "There, now that's set, we can get to class."
Glancing at her watch, Hermione yelped. "Merlin's socks, we're going to be late!" She took off towards the greenhouses, crashing through the vegetation. The boys shrugged at each other before following, and a moment later all three Gryffindors were sprinting up the sloping lawns, robes flapping ungracefully behind them.
The trio slipped into Greenhouse Three just as Professor Sprout was about to shut the door. They took their places alongside the other second years, behind a tray of dirt and wriggling vines.
Ron stretched, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. "A job well done, I'd say," he remarked happily. The red-headed boy smiled and rubbed his stomach. "Glad I got breakfast first."
"Yes, well, Harry and I did not have that luxury," Hermione hissed. Behind her, Harry slowly reached into his bag and withdrew the most pristine chocolate eclair Ron had ever seen. Ron's eyes bugged out and his stomach growled.
Harry crunched into his pastry, and Hermione's head whipped back around to him so fast there should have been a 'crack' to accompany it. As he slowly chewed his bite, Hermione's eyes narrowed and her eyebrows furrowed further. Harry swallowed loudly. The two stared at each other, frozen in place. Hermione growled softly under her breath. Then, the Boy-Who-Lived moved suddenly and decisively in order to preserve his moniker. He shoved the entire eclair into his mouth and dove under the table. She swiped at the empty air he left behind, letting out a strangled sort of wail. From the proverbial Switzerland of the scenario, Harry choked on his food and laughter.
"Now class, settle down," Professor Spout said in her usual matronly tone. "We have a lot of work to do with these lavender tentacle-worm things, but first, they require a lot of moisture, so-" she clapped her hands briskly, "sprinklers, please!"
The Greenhouse obliged, and the class groaned as their robes immediately dampened.
"I really wish they had given that poor plant a better name," a morose Hermione muttered to herself.
"Make sure that you pack them into their mud pots properly!" Professor Sprout called cheerfully over the growing cacophony. "You have two hours!"
Ron looked at his friends questioningly. "By the way, you two didn't notice anything off about the entrance hall when you went through earlier right? The traps took way longer than I thought they would, I had to rush the weighted pressure plate in order to…" He trailed off into indistinct murmurings about
Hermione nearly sobbed.
–O–
It was lunchtime, and Hermione Granger was starving. It had been a particularly miserable Herbology lesson, and despite her love for learning, Hermione was just as eager to escape the icy drizzle, muddy floors, and bipolar plants by the end of the two-hour block.
Anyone would have left a class like that feeling exhausted and irritable, but, of course, Hermione's morning had been ruined before she ever stepped foot in Greenhouse Three.
Harry watched Hermione throw herself onto the bench—and into those beautiful, glorious calories—and he sensed an opportunity for a bad joke. "Ah, yes, because that Horbelogy class was just so appetising."
Neither of his friends deigned to reply, so engrossed they were, Hermione in her plate and Ron observing the wall. Percy Weasley, however, HAD taken notice.
"One point from Gryffindor, Mr Potter, for incorrect spelling," Percy reprimanded from down the table.
"Huh?"
"You misspelled a word, so I took a point," huffed the prefect. "Kindly return to your meal before you repeat the mistake."
Harry sighed and turned back to his friends. "What is he on about Ron?"
"I dunno mate. I mean Percy's a bit of a prat, but he had a point this time," Ron said blandly, as he examined the perfectly blank wall with a set of military-grade binoculars.
The dark-haired boy threw his hands up in exasperation but realised that pursuing the matter would lead nowhere.
Seeing that Hermione was 'wandlessly' vanishing her food at a rapid pace, and showing no signs of slowing, Harry grabbed his friend some refills. Returning to Hermione, he slipped a banana onto her plate. Acting on pure instinct, the genius witch stabbed the fruit.
"Hermione!" yelped Harry, recoiling in shock. "I was just trying to help."
Her eyes narrowed. "Never trust bananas." She nodded to herself. "That's facts."
"What're you on about, mate?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food, having finally turned away from his wall-watching.
Hermione tidied herself up and left without another word.
~~00~~
Some weeks later, it was colder. This was because it was nearly December. The first hints of snow were showing on the grounds, and the student body was in a minor tizzy over the first dueling club meeting that was scheduled for later that night, and gossiping about who their instructor could be. Harry Potter, anti-Kedavra extraordinaire, wasn't thinking about any of that.
Instead of exploring the many magical hallways, or snoozing by a fire, or pretending to do homework like any sensible student would be doing (which there is admittedly very few of those), Harry was in the vents. He crawled through the narrow spaces with a quick, fluid pace, his body seeming to slither like a snake. Or an eel.
The side effect of this mode of transportation was that Harry ended up overhearing a lot of conversations. After witnessing a conversation between a fantastically bald Lockhart and his gleaming wig, Harry made 2 discoveries: That Lockhart was somehow even more of a fraud than he originally thought, and that attending the duelling club could now only end in misery. It was disappointing, because Harry had been really looking forward to a more practical combat class, but with the resident Bishop of Prattery in charge, there was no way it would be worthwhile.
A few hours of lurking and lurching later, Harry was making his way back towards the seventh floor with some goodies from Snapes store room, when two first years walked by the grate he was peering through, chattering away.
"I just don't see why it matters," said Ginny Weasley. "It's not like they're just going to float away, you know?"
"Yes, I do–" began Luna Lovegood before her response was cut off by Percy Weasley jumping out from behind a nearby pillar.
"Aha!" He cried. "Sorry Ginny, but you misspelt 'your,' I have to take off a point."
Ginny stared at her older brother in complete bewilderment. "Excuse me?"
"I believe that she used 'you're' in the other tense," said Luna, gazing at a stain on the wall. "So it would be spelled properly, in that case."
Percy squinted just above Ginny's head. "Miss Lovegood, you clearly have no idea what tenses are, but you were correct that I was incorrect. One point to you, Ginny, to balance things out, and one to Miss Lovegood, for catching my mistake." Percy nodded to the other two, then walked away with a noticeably more rigid posture.
Hidden away in the vents, Harry could feel a headache creeping in.
—O—
"Here you go, Hermione," Harry plopped the satchel into Hermione's lap. "What do you even need all this stuff for, anyway?"
"Oh, just a project I've been working on in my spare time," she replied, her hand absentmindedly drifting to her chest. "I'll tell you about it some other time, I believe it's time to get to Dueling Club, right?"
"You go, I have a, uh…an essay to write."
Hermione blinked at her friend. "I thought you were really excited for this Harry."
"Not anymore, but I'm sure you're going to have a great time." Harry shook his head. "You'll probably figure it out when you get there."
"…Alright then. I suppose I'll see you in a few hours?"
"I'd assume so."
-ooo-
"Three, two–"
"Serpensortia!" yelled Malfoy, brandishing his wand at his opponent, Zacharias Smith
A bang sounded as the doors of the Great Hall were thrown open by a Mr Harry Potter. Malfoy's wand let out a cough and weakly sputtered out a long, grey creature as Harry sprinted for the stage. Several students screamed, several more laughed in shock. Harry leaped onto the stage, wand at the ready, only to see it.
The sad creature that Malfoy had produced had the body of a snake, but way too many legs, which it didn't seem to know what to do with.
Shrugging at the writhing creature, Harry stepped back and gestured to Zacharias Smith. "Sorry mate, I only speak to snakes, I don't know a thing about lizards." Harry shot the boy a thumbs up and a grin. "Good luck!"
The mistake suddenly straightened itself and looked directly at Harry. "HUMAN!" it bellowed in a deep voice, reminiscent of Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson's. The poor creature writhed a bit more, clearly displeased with having legs. "WHAT IS THIS PLACE AND WHY HAVE I BEEN IMPOSED WITH SUCH HIDEOUS LIMITATIONS!"
"Gah!" Harry yelped falling back and dropping his wand. He seemed to be in deep distress, hyperventilating, the whole nine yards. As the not-snake began marching towards the boy, Professor Snape seemed to decide that enough was enough.
"Everybody, stand back," he drawled with an aftertaste of urgency.
Unfortunately, Professor Lockhart had decided that this would make a great moment. "Allow me!" he cried, flourishing his wand just as Snape was finishing his own spell. The bullshittery of Lockhart's attempt at doing something or other to the sadness-incarnate managed to fling both teachers off of the stage.
"Get away from me!" cried Harry, crawling backwards and away from the creature.
"SPEAK TO ME, CHILD!"
"NO!" Harry threw out his hand, and a multicoloured band of light swept up the demon. It was a massive surge of raw magic, so intense that it knocked the boy out. However, the rest of the hall got to watch as the aurora lights encompassed and lifted the creature. As it flailed about, scales began to flake off, and the malformed reptile began to disintegrate. Harry's magic slowly floated the writhing and screeching body back across the stage towards a shell-shocked Malfoy. By now, it was a snake, as the legs had dissolved. The students watched in amazement as the rest of the kind-of-snake crumbled, its dust slipping back into the point of Malfoy's wand with what sounded like an inverted cough.
For a long moment, there was silence. Then Professor Dumbledore fell from the ceiling, and pandemonium broke out.
[AN]: I'm so sorry that this took so long. As I wrote this chapter, my ambitions for it grew uncontrollably (I wanted to include christmas in this update at one point). Anyways, I couldn't finish it, and then something WONDERFUL happened: college applications. So yeah, that's what I've been doing the past 5 ish months of my life. In the new year i'll have more time to write, and hopefully I'll actually have the inspiration to do so. To everyone who commented on the other chapters, thank you so much. Even when I was knee deep in essay writing, I would still occasionally open up the comments section in order to get a wonderful dose of serotonin, all thanks to your kind words. Hopefully you guys will see this update and keep reading the junk that spews forth from my head.
Thank the How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack for being the best movie soundtrack in existence, and also being the perfect tunes to write to. I don't know what I would've done the past few months without that music.
It's 3 AM and I had nearly 400 mg of caffeine today (technically yesterday/), so apologies for how messy this AN is.
I want to know your thoughts on formatting. I make my own line breaks with the little –O– or whatever variation I feel like in the moment. Do y'all like those, or do you prefer horizontal lines? Also, have there been any issues or annoyances with the line spacing? I'd appreciate the feedback, it makes me that much more confident in what I post. This story is bullshit, sure, but at it's core it's GOLDEN shit. Ah, yes, a quality turd.
Thank you for reading, hopefully my next update won't take me another 4 months.