Bellatrix and Fenrir Train For the Opera
Lucius Malfoy had a very interesting start to his morning. Everything had gone normally – he had showered and dressed with little issue – until he went downstairs to join his family, Voldemort and the other Death Eaters for breakfast. You see, the werewolves' race track was quite extensive. So extensive, it came close to one of the main staircases. The young werewolves were having a race before breakfast – with the loser having to forfeit their smoothies to the winners – and until then Team Sunshine Car was in the lead.
Unfortunately, the werewolves had forgotten that the wizards actually use the stairs and don't always Disapparate from one room to the other.
They were all thoroughly confused when their 'spotters' reported that the cars had yet to make the corner nicknamed Jörmungandr.
"Where are the cars?" they had wondered out loud.
"THESE DAMN WEREWOLVES AND THEIR CARS! ARE THEY TRYING TO KILL ME!?"
Ah, they had run into Lucius Malfoy. Whoops.
That was not the last surprise that morning. The last thing that Augustus Rookwood, or indeed anyone sequestered away in Malfoy Manor, had expected to see that morning, was an impromptu visit from the Royal Mail Muggle. No one had any time to see what Potter had sent them this time because the van was gone within five seconds flat and had been the only one to stop. Crystal Holland had been out for a run when the van had dumped something in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor and of course, curiosity did kill the werewolf in this instance. Crystal had leapt over the wall, gathered the pile of … welcome letters and magazines? … jumped back over the wall and quickly carried them into the Manor to find Rookwood.
The former Unspeakable was at breakfast, enjoying another one of Rabastan's delicious smoothies, as well as eggs and toast. Everything seemed relatively calm for the Dark Lord and his Inner Circle's doing – well, with the exception of the sulking Dark wizard himself at the head of the table. Nagini and Thalia had flat out refused to listen to him apologise for giving Thalia a clown wig and nose the day before and were petulantly not leaving their habitats. They even had gone so far as to wear the Granger girl's awful House Elf Rights society fashion again, just to spite him. To make matters worse, the Potter Brat had given him another string of nightmares: a gingerbread man that looked a lot like Dumbledore wielding a knife chasing after Voldemort and his Death Eaters, killer sheep out for revenge against the werewolves, Wormtail cooking in a frilly pink apron and the furniture in Malfoy Manor becoming sentient and trying to kill their inhabitants inside.
It was safe to say that Voldemort was not in the best of moods that morning.
Fenrir raised his head and smiled kindly. "What have you get there, Crystal?"
"It is for Rookwood, sir," Crystal informed.
"The Muggles dropped off something for Augustus?" Macnair lit up way too quickly at this.
Rookwood already began to deflate at that. This could not be good. What had Potter done?
Yaxley sniffed at the bundle of plastic and paper in the young werewolf's arms as she brought the delivery over to the resigned Unspeakable. "Potter must have run out of ideas to give you such a mundane 'present'!"
"Maybe this is your punishment for being so utterly boring!" Dolohov cackled.
"Or perhaps the boy is simply experimenting with gifts to a person he doesn't know very well," Snape sighed, quietly wishing that Dumbledore had allowed Firewhiskey at the meeting last night so he could nurse a headache from being hung over rather than dealing with the spawn of James' latest antics.
Rookwood attempted to ignore them as he took the bundle out of Holland's hands with a small, apologetic smile for he read the quick notes with the bundles. They all said essentially the same things.
Dear Mr. A. Rookwood,
We are very pleased that you have chosen to subscribe to our magazine! We hope you continue to follow our work; as a welcome gift, here is a copy of our most popular edition. Keep your eyes on your letter box for the coming months!
Augustus Rookwood could hardly believe what he was reading. Amateur Gardening, Archery UK, BBC Good Food, Current World Archaeology, Dreamwatch, The Ecologist, Nimbus, Parliamentary Brief, The Sword and Top Gear; what in the name of Merlin's overgrown beard were these things!? They sounded almost like … magazines.
Rookwood could not help himself; he started to laugh.
This was not the reaction anyone had anticipated. Rowle frowned suspiciously. "I think Potter's broken Augustus."
"Nah, the damage was long done in that one," Macnair grinned.
"Augustus, what did you get?" Rabastan asked eagerly, finishing another smoothie for a very eager werewolf.
"Potter has signed my name up for a pile of Muggle magazines," Rookwood responded, eyes shining with mirth has he opened the plastic around the magazine Archery UK and promptly began looking in it.
"Ewwww," the Carrows chorused.
"There is going to be nothing interesting in there," Yaxley concurred.
"I might just use one to piss on," Fenrir agreed.
Rookwood's eyes flashed dangerously. "You lay one paw on my magazines, Fenrir, and I will bribe your pack to use that shaving cream on you in your sleep and then take photos to send to the boy."
"Can I read one?" Rabastan pleaded.
"Later," Rookwood answered gruffly, not looking up.
Rabastan pouted. Rodolphus rolled his eyes. "Basti, give it up. You're not going to be able to read those any time soon!"
Voldemort was quietly tempted to ask Rookwood for one of the magazines but the return of Mulciber and his raiding team put an end to everyone's nice, quiet breakfast. The Dark Lord grumbled to himself in Parseltongue as he gestured for Mulciber and his team to give their reports.
Mulciber and his team were in the middle of their report when the dreaded electric zooming of the electric slot cars belonging to the Greyback pack had started up again, the young werewolves laughing, shouting and howling happily and excitedly. There were currently three teams racing: Team Oldie, Team Ashton Martin and Team Red. The Death Eaters were soon either annoyed by the noise the young ones were making or wishing they could join in. Even Voldemort was getting bored of listening to yet another report – maybe he should not plan a raid for a while to give himself some off time?
It wasn't as though the Ministry could raise an affective defence against him and his forces anyway. They would first need a competent leader for that.
At any rate, the Dark Lord let his followers off for the rest of the day with Severus heading off to spy on the Order, Bellatrix and Mr. Mupples visiting the eagle chicks, Rookwood heading to his room to read in peace, and Jugson, Travers, Avery Junior and Yaxley escaped outside. The rest went to watch the slot car race or, in the case of Blaise and Millicent, went to plan their new design to paint on the Malfoy road.
Draco and Theo took up the duty of Keeping Eyes Peeled for Muggle Vehicles. The adults were too distracted so they knew it fell onto them. Crabbe and Goyle were still distracted by the cars and the girls were busy gossiping and looking through magazines as per bloody usual while Blaise and Millie were plotting something so it was just going to be them.
"Has your aunt touched her presents yet?" Theo grinned.
"Not yet. Uncle Rodolphus and Uncle Rabastan are trying to see if they can make the things function on magic to try and placate her," Draco snorted. "Uncle Rabastan has also figured out which cartridge fits with which machine."
"Was that why he was crying yesterday?" Theo asked curiously.
"No, it was because he had just finished watching The Lion King," Draco chuckled. "According to Uncle Rodolphus, he cried the first time when Mufasa died-"
"Mufasa?" Theo repeated incredulously.
"Yeah, the king lion and father of Simba-"
"What kind of names are these?!"
"African apparently. Anyway, Uncle Rabastan cried at that point, and then cried again at Simba accepting his destiny as king, and then again when Scar got mauled by the hyenas because Scar was his favourite character."
Theo promptly began to short-circuit at this point. "Scar?! What kind of bloody naming traditions do these lions have? 'Darling what name shall we give our cubs?', 'Ooo how about we call this one Mufasa and this one Scar!' It makes no logical sense! What are the other characters' names?"
"Well there is Queen Sarabi-"
"African?"
"Yes. Nala-"
"African again?"
"Correct. Zazu-"
"Zazu?! That doesn't sound like a name you give a lion; that sounds like the name you give a buzzard that doesn't know how to shut the fuck up!"
"You're actually close," Draco smirked. "There's also Rafiki the weird shaman monkey-like creature but apparently Shenzi, Ed and Banzai the hyenas are some of the best characters in the movie, according to Uncle Rabastan."
"I am not even going to ask," Theo sighed, shaking his head. "I mean – Shenzi, OK that sounds cool. Banzai, great I can work with that! … Ed? Really? Did these Muggles throw away the African baby name book or something?!"
Draco was thoroughly enjoying the turmoil Theo was going through. "Probably. They named their joke characters Timon and Pumbaa, with 'Pumbaa' spelled with two 'aa's for no apparent reason."
"Whhyyyy?" Theo wailed.
"How am I supposed to know the reason behind African naming traditions?" Draco pointed out. "Muggles make no bloody sense, you should know this for yourself, Theo."
"What are you boys talking about?" Reed asked as he joined the two young teenaged wizards on Gatewatch Duty, a pair of shades over his sensitive wolf-eyes to shield them from the shining sun. Roden, Beynon and Holland were wearing shades too and immediately went to play guard werewolf on the walls.
"Oh, hey, Reed," Draco grinned. "I was just telling Theo a little bit about The Lion King."
Reed lit up. "I used to love that movie when it first came out. Whole cinema was in tears, I can tell you! I still can't believe that Rabastan decided to have a movie marathon."
"A what?" Theo frowned.
"Movie marathon?" Reed repeated with a wry smile. "It is the term used to describe watching one film or series after the other in rapid succession without a break. Muggles love doing them with friends and family."
"Uncle Rabastan was watching more than just Lion King?" Draco asked, sounding surprised.
"He was," Reed confirmed. "He got through Jurassic Park, Home Alone and Schindler's List first. The last one … bothered him so he decided to put something a bit more light hearted on."
"And how would you know?" Theo smirked slightly.
Reed flushed and coughed to clear his throat. "I might have … seen him do it."
"You were spying on him," Draco corrected.
The Beta of the Greyback pack spluttered. "No I wasn't!"
"Yes, you were!"
"I wasn't!"
"Fine – stalking then."
Reed growled in frustration. "Bloody children! They're annoying, werewolf and wizard alike."
"It's not our fault if you won't confess to your creepy behaviour," Theo smirked.
"Hey, I wasn't invited to join in but those movies are all too good to miss out on," Reed insisted. "So I might have … peered in through the window."
"Creepy," Draco and Theo commented in sync.
The werewolf pinched the bridge of his nose. It was in this moment that Reed was very happy that these boys were not educated in Muggle horror movies or he knew the references would have been flung at his head.
"So, what is the Potter boy like at school?" Reed decided it was best to switch the topic at this point.
Draco's expression soured in about five seconds. "He keeps getting away with stuff; the only one who seems to try to exert some control over him is Uncle Sev. He just struts away with that stupid scar on his stupid forehead-"
Theo slammed his hand over his friend's mouth before he could fully go on a tangent, sighing in irritation. "Reed does not need to know all of your petty feelings towards the Boy-Who-Lives-To-Make-Your-Life-More-Interesting, Drake."
Draco glared at his friend, batting his hand away. "He lives to make my life miserable, Theo, not more interesting!"
"I'd say they are often the same thing," Theo shot back with a grin.
"I don't get the impression you have actually talked to him," Reed raised an eyebrow.
Draco spluttered. "Yes, I have-"
"Without hexing him or insulting his parents?" Reed wasn't born yesterday.
At least the Malfoy heir had the common sense not to try and refute that statement. Reed really did not like barefaced liars on the best of days. They usually ended up being hunted around forests for a bit before he put the fear of any deity from every pantheon into them. It was this fiery hatred for liars that had caused Fenrir to turn him and make him his Beta to begin with.
"I think I want to see those films for myself," Theo decided out loud. "Let's see if Muggles actually are capable of creativity."
Reed smirked to himself.
The Beta's ears pricked up; the three werewolves on the wall were already beginning to do a jig and boogie in anticipation. Draco and Theo exchanged a look of anticipation and slight concern. The Muggles were back.
"All right, boys, colours," Reed grinned.
"Colours? Of the vans?" Theo frowned. "White."
"I say red," Draco smirked.
"Then I will say brown," Reed chuckled.
"ARE THEY HERE?!" Mulciber, Avery Senior and Macnair joined at this point, skidding to a halt next to the two kids and the werewolf.
"They're coming," Reed confirmed.
"Did you guess the colours yet?" Macnair asked urgently.
"Yep. Sorry, Walden, you were too slow," Reed chuckled.
"Bugger!" the Death Eaters chorused, pouting like sulky children.
Much to Theo's delight, the white Amazon van pulled up first. That earned him a high-five from Reed. The Beta himself was very pleased to note that the brown UPS van followed closely behind. Draco could have made a blobfish look happy with the face he was pulling when he realised the red van hadn't shown up.
Macnair pouted at this too. "No red van? Really?"
"Ha, Walden would have lost!" Mulciber gloated.
"Shut up, Balthazar!"
The sound of the werewolves greeting the coffee-starved Muggles brought their attention back to the situation.
"Hello there!" they heard Holland call down, the Muggles staring at the weird teenagers lounging up on the high wall.
"Hello," the Amazon Muggle answered uncertainly. "This is Malfoy Manor, correct?"
"Yep! Who are you deliveries for?" Beynon asked eagerly.
"Mr. Rabastan Lestrange, Mrs. B. Lestrange and the Greyback Wolf Gang," came the chorus from the two Muggles.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAY! WE GET MORE PRESENTS!"
Reed shook his head and chuckled fondly.
Draco was whiter than snow. "Can someone go and tell Uncle Rodolphus to restrain my aunt please?"
"Nah, this is going to be to good!" Macnair cackled evilly.
"Basti is going to be very happy to know the Brat knows who he is," Avery Senior snorted.
"Ringthebellringthebellringthebellringthebellringthebellringthebell!" Roden, Beynon and Holland's voices overlapped during their out-of-sync chanting.
"Fenrir is going to be very silver by the end of August at this rate," Mulciber chuckled.
Macnair snorted. "Instead of a silver fox, a silver werewolf!"
Reed rolled his eyes as the wizards howled with laughter.
BBBBRRRRRRRIIIIINNNNNNGGG!
"WWWWWHHHHHYYYY?!"
"Lucius-"
"I am going to drown myself in the bath – that is less humiliating than this!"
"Now you're just being overly dramatic," Narcissa huffed.
"Have you met him?" Rabastan looked up from his film that he was watching in the parlour, pressing the pause button on the remote. "Flamboyant and dramatic do not cover it!"
Lord Malfoy spluttered indignantly. "I am not flamboyant!"
"YES YOU ARE!"
Ah, the rest of the Inner Circle and Greyback's pack had arrived, followed closely by Voldemort, Nagini, Thalia, the children sans Draco and Theo, and Bellatrix and Mr. Mupples, both who looked like they had been woken up from an afternoon nap. Ergo, they looked a little bit stroppy.
"How many vans have we gotten this time?" Dolohov asked eagerly as the orb floated in front of Lord and Lady Malfoy.
Rowle edged closer to take a better look. "Two!" he announced after narrowing his eyes.
"Which colours?" Rodolphus wanted to know.
"White and brown."
"Damn it!" came a cacophony of disappointed voices. Clearly some bets had been made between friends, especially the werewolves.
Thalia lit up at this. *Hey Nagini, I think the Muggles might get a lot of red envelopes soon.*
*Oh really? Why do you say that?*
*Because of disappointed werewolves. Do you know what they're called?*
*No I don't. Please tell me!*
*Howlers! Hahahahaha!*
I am going straight to bed after this, Voldemort grumbled to himself.
Unfortunately his snakes had seen his sour expression.
*Oh look Nagini, Lord Jelly-mort has eaten something bad again,* Thalia sassed.
*It was probably what was left of his sense of humour,* Nagini added.
*He did not have one to begin with,* Thalia pointed out.
*No, you're right. It was the bitterness of his childhood trauma,* Nagini sighed dramatically.
*How many times do I have to apologise for you two to talk to me again?!* Voldemort wailed.
*We will let you know when you get there,* the snakes chorused.
*Why are women always so difficult?*
*Why is that Tom is such a meanie-guts with no nose?* Thalia shot back.
The squabble was broken up monetarily. Narcissa had done the job of asking the Muggles to whom they were delivering this time. "Mr. Rabastan Lestrange, Mrs. B Lestrange-"
"YES, MR. MUPPLES, THAT BOY IS GOING TO MAKE A NICE JAM!"
Unfortunately the Muggles heard that and jumped about five feet into the air and only just managed to add "the Greyback Wolf Gang" before hiding inside their vans until the gates opened and they drove onto the freaky mansion's gravel drive way.
"Oh Merlin," Jugson could not believe Bellatrix had been targeted again!
"Right, I am going to order a casket just in case," Travers stated and was set to leave the room when Rookwood caught him by the hood of his Death Eater robes and pulled him back, barely looking up from the Parliamentary Brief magazine.
*Hey Nagini I think the Potter boy is toast.*
*Oh? Why is he only toast now?*
*Because he put himself into a jam.*
Voldemort could not help himself; he chortled at that stupid joke and tried to keep his countenance as his Inner Circle looked at him with terrified eyes.
Rabastan, meanwhile, was excitedly watching the Muggles, Reed and the eager young werewolves who had gone outside unload the vans, waiting to see with anticipation which ones from the vast number of boxes were his. He was very pleased to note he had twenty boxes. The werewolves had around ninety and Bellatrix had fifty; the witch in question was already sharpening her dagger. The Carrows, who were standing near her, gulped.
Draco brought a box back for Rabastan, Rodolphus took one of the boxes meant for Bellatrix from a terrified Theo and the werewolves came back with a box each, much to Fenrir's chagrin, grinning and chatting excitedly. Voldemort, for some reason, didn't have the heart to make the children and young adults wait too long – plus, it was best to get Fenrir's hissy fit out of the way – and so he allowed the werewolves to open their boxes first.
"Maybe it's a new toy!"
"I hope it's shoes! I am due a new pair."
"Maybe we get paint cans like Draco did."
Fenrir growled at this. Narcissa blanched but didn't say anything. Lucius looked set to weep. Only Blaise and Millicent seemed remotely happy about the prospect of having fellow street artists in the werewolves.
The werewolves tore into the boxes and started to squeal in excitement as they lifted out books and hair dye out and started to immediately plan which hair style they were going to try on Reed and Fenrir first. Reed was chuckling away but Fenrir was set to explode.
"You will not touch my damn hair!" Fenrir scolded them.
"You mean, fur," Dolohov quipped.
"Fuck you, you celibate turnip!"
"Well, you would have solved that problem!"
Fenrir bared his sharpened canines dangerously, his eyes practically glowing. Before anyone could react, the alpha werewolf roared into Dolohov's face, causing ornaments around the room to start trembling. The werewolves winced; Dolohov grimaced at the werewolf's bad breath.
Thalia shook her head. *Fenrir is not going to be going into the opera business any time soon.*
*He is good at projecting though,* Nagini pointed out.
*But he has missed like ten high notes, which is ironic considering he howls,* Thalia pointed out.
Voldemort tried to ignore his snakes. "Rabasssstan, your turn!"
Rabastan had his box open within seconds and lit up like a child on Yule when he saw the box was filled with books. Lots and lots of books! Rabastan started unpacking them and began looking at the front covers.
One Door Closes, Another Door Opens: Turning Your Setbacks into Comebacks, As a Man Thinketh, Codependent No More, How To Stop Worrying and Start Living, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Laugh and Live, and Awaken the Giant Within were the most prominent titles amongst them. Rabastan sat down with one of them and began to read, everyone shaking their heads at him.
"Basti, really!" Rodolphus sighed.
"Shush!" was Rabastan's only answer, continuing to read.
Rookwood had looked up from his magazine and came to investigate the books, only for Rabastan to put a Shield Charm around the books, causing the Unspeakable to pout. "Rabastan! I want to have a look, please!"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you would not let me read a magazine."
"You are so petty!"
"Actions have consequences, dear Augustus."
*Nagini, what do you call two book-obsessed Death Eaters?* Thalia had another joke for the occasion.
*No idea! Tell me, my friend.*
*Book Eaters!*
Voldemort wished he had a nose at this point; he settled for hanging his head in exhaustion.
While Rabastan was happily absorbed in his book, everyone had turned their attention onto Bellatrix, who was already set to stab the box in front of her. Everyone braced themselves; the lower guards were already praying to Merlin and Morgana on behalf of the poor, abused windows that were being abused by magical outbursts. The children were already being shielded by their parents in preparation.
"Bella-"
Stab, stab, stab – there went the box. Bellatrix grumbled incoherently as she tore it open and glared disdainfully into it. There was a stone cold silence; the lieutenant blinked fifteen times in disbelief before the ground beneath everyone's feet suddenly began to tremor violently.
"AAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
There went the glass in the cabinets, the mirror, the windows and the crystal chandelier above their heads, spells having to be sent up in a hurry to protect everyone from the dangerous debris.
"Hekate and Medea!" Dolohov commented, still covering his ears.
"THAT – FILTHY – HALF-BLOOD – SENT – ME – FRILLY – DRESSES – AND – LACE – MASKS!" Bellatrix threw frilly dress after frilly dress onto the floor with lace mask after lace mask as she seethed; everyone else was trying not to laugh. Mr. Mupples watched on in concern. "I WILL GUT YOU LIKE THE SLIPPERY LITTLE FISH YOU ARE, HARRY POTTERRRRRRRRRRRR!"
Unbeknownst to everyone, the shrill banshee tones of Bellatrix resonated from one end of the isle to the other, much as Voldemort's shriek had done, causing every witch and wizard in the country to flinch. Several ugly kitty plates belonging to Dolores Umbridge cracked in half and yet another one of the Queen's tea sets spontaneously exploded.
Unfortunately that was not the last of it. You see, the younger werewolves had managed to catch Fenrir unawares while he slept and had dyed his hair a sickly green colour in revenge for being a "Big Bad-Mood Werewolf", as Thalia called him. When Fenrir woke up and caught himself in a mirror, the reaction was predictable.
"ROOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!"
This time all the werewolves in the land froze in fear, hoping that Fenrir Greyback was not lurking in their territory. Remus Lupin, who had been reading a book with a nice cup of hot chocolate, looked up to the echoes of his former attacker resonating around the room before smirking to himself.
Harry must have pranked the Death Eaters again. Oh dear, he thought as he continued reading.
############################################
"OK, I think it is safe to say that Bellatrix Lestrange is angry!"
"Holy cricket, did you guys hear that too? It was like she was in the room!"
"I almost spilled boiling water from the kettle because of it, Jesus!"
"I know! Great, isn't it?"
"Harry this is NOT funny!"
"No, it's hilarious. Can you imagine the look on dear old Bella's face? Oh Dud, you must have outdone yourself."
"Thanks, cousin!"
The Council of Pranks had convened almost as soon as the dulcet tones of Bellatrix had faded away. It seemed Dudley must have sensed something had happened because he phoned at the exact same time as Dean, Justin and the Creevey brothers.
"Please tell me that Mrs. Lestrange is off the list for a while," Hermione grumbled.
"Fine," the Boy-Who-Would-Be-Putting-Alarms-Around-His-Bed-Just-In-Case pouted. "That leaves only two questions: who is next and what will we send them?"
"Oooo, ooo, we have a good idea for Rookwood!" the Creevey brothers chorused. "How about we send him Scooby Doo stuff?"
"Oh, that could work!" Dudley agreed. "Unspeakables are like detectives, right?"
"Spies and researchers, more like," Hermione sighed. "They also know some very gruesome ways to kill teenagers who send them a child's TV show and know how to pin it on Hedwig!"
"I like the idea," the son of Prongs smirked. "Maybe puzzles for Bella's dear husband? I am sure he is feeling very left out at the moment."
Ginny snorted. "More like he's feeling relieved, but OK!"
"I like the puzzle idea. Do Muggles have a puzzle that is particularly difficult to solve?" Ron wanted to know, smirking.
There was a pause amongst the Muggles, Muggleborns and Muggle raised wizards until they all came to the same answer. "RUBIX CUBE!"
"Rubix Cube?" Ginny repeated with a frown.
"It drives people to distraction," Justin informed her. "The cube has mismatched colours on all sides and your job is to make sure each side has one green side, one blue side, one green side, one red side – you get the picture. Issue is, the moment you move one part of it, you also move the rest of the Cube and you ruin your previous work."
"It is infuriating!" Dennis Creevey added. "Dad swears whenever he tries his, Uncle Albert swears like a sailor and thinks hitting it on the table will help solve it and Mum managed to solve it once in under a minute. Don't ask us how!"
"Scooby Doo for Rookwood, Rubix Cube to Rodolphus …" Harry mused and then an evil thought struck him, causing him to smirk. "Hey guuuuuys – shall we give Voldie a nose?"
"Oh no," Hermione lamented, hanging her head.
"How do we give Voldemort a nose?" Dudley wanted to know.
"DON'T SAY HIS NAME!"
"I know!" Dean piped up. "Variety glasses with noses."
"Exactly!" Harry grinned.
"Will those even stay on his face?" Ron spluttered. "He has no nose to begin with, remember? They'd slide right off!"
"Not my issue!" Harry stated jovially.
And so, the next plan was set into motion.
##########################################
I am surprised Bellatrix and Fenrir aren't hoarse by now, hahahahaha! Let us hope the Weasleys know how to guard their house! I found some decent self-help books from pre 1995; I spent too much time researching those, good grief.
I want to thank the reviewers who suggested Scooby Doo for Rookwood and Rubix Cube for Rodolphus! The reviews who agreed on variety glasses for Voldie – love the idea! Keep them coming; you guys are geniuses! I love reading all your reviews XD
I hope to see you guys in the next one!
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