A/N: Here's another chapter. Sorry if things seem a bit choppy, I really don't remember where exactly in the story I am, so let's just say it's…oh…March or so. That way I don't have to deal with Valentine's day (unless I did already and forgot about it :p)
So this chapter will start out with light-hearted non-important stuff before we dive into the actual story line later. That's right! I said story line, meaning plot! Believe it or not I actually do have one, it just hasn't made an appearance in the last few months. Speaking a few months, that's all this story really has left, at which point I will most likely start up a sequel.
New edition: Just for some additional humor, I'm gonna throw a Blood Hound Gang one-liner in the AN at the beginning of each chapter. I'm gonna keep the rating PG-13 though, even if BLG is definitely a NC-17 band. I mean, it's only one line!
Blood Hound Gang, Hooray for Boobies, Track 4, Three Point One Four;
"You know what I really want in a girl? Me."
Alright, that's enough chatting for today, on to the story!
*****
Chapter 44
Grass crunched and water sprayed upwards in trails, marking the place where a person had just been on a wet and young Saturday morning in March. Today would be Gryffindor's last Football match, against Slytherin. Both team's were undefeated, and this match would decide the championship.
The Slytherins, though they did not like the sport because of it's muggle-relations, were rather good for the simple fact that they did not like to be beaten at anything.
Harry watched his the team warm up with his arms around himself, protecting him from the brisk breeze that was carrying a chilled wind throughout the entirety of the Hogwarts grounds.
Harry was fairly confident that Gryffindor could win, after all, they did have Dean Thomas, who played professionally, and Freddy Adu, who was a prodigy, and Hermione could hold her own as well.
Even though he was the team discipliner, Harry always seemed to find himself in the same position that he was now; staring at the grasshoppers leaping from blade to blade of green grass rather than watch his players leap for head balls while Dean and Hermione crossed in swingers and out swingers into the penalty area from various positions.
A whistle brought Harry's attention from the ground to the players on top of it, his cheeks reddening as he realized that the game had begun.
"And it appears that Slytherin is going to continue its trend of taking cheap shots at their opponents while the oblivious referee is busy elsewhere."
Kerry Wood, who was yet again announcing (and would be doing all of the quidditch announcing as well), earned a stern glare from McGonagall at the statement, but he had long since learned that she wouldn't do anything about it, the students loved the kid too much.
The game was brutal. Slytherins were pounding Gryffindor's into the ground left and right, all while Dean was telling his team to keep their cool. A straight-up brawl almost occurred in the 33rd minute though, when Dean stood up a Slytherin forward.
"And here comes Ackerly down the pitch - what a moron, he's actually going to try and take on Dean Thomas one v one - and - OH! Stuffed! Thomas says your like Santa Clause on a treadmill, you ain't goin' nowhere!"
A mini fight erupted between the two players, with both receiving cautions in the end. But the mood had been set, and the match was a rocket ready to explode.
"Granger down the side, makes a nice slice to beat one defender - nutmegs another, backheel pass to Thomas, he hit's a one-time in swinger to the far post - Evans is unmarked - GOOOAAAALLL!"
The crowd erupted as Wood went on. "And the geniuses of Slytherin apparently forgot all about little unMark'ed Evans, and he puts a cross from Dean Thomas straight into the back of the net. One to nothing Gryffindor!"
The game remained rather tight for pretty much the rest of the game, the Lion's staunch defense not letting anything through whatsoever. It wasn't until the 89th minute - at the last possible moment - when the Slytherins finally lost it.
"And Steve Astro on the ball now…he's going forward…oh! And Keeper Weasley takes it right off his feet. Too bad. And Weasley goes to - whoa!"
Astro had apparently had enough and shoved Ron from behind, eliciting a reaction from the larger student. Ron, apparently without thought, turned with a balled fist and drove it upwards into Astro's jaw.
"Holy Merlin! What a right hook from Weasley! One-hit KO! You know, I once KO'd twenty Astros in a single outing…"
But whatever Kerry may have said from there on out wasn't heard, as the benches had emptied and there was now a mash-pit of wizards and witches fighting the muggle way in the middle of the pitch.
Harry ran into the fray, desperate to find Hermione, and get her out, without causing any trouble. He didn't want either of them to get hurt.
He found her face to face with a Slytherin boy, a furious look on her face as she showed him her ring.
"You think I could help you bust a nut huh? Sure! How about this!" Before the poor kid could react, Hermione had driven her foot up into the kid's crotch, effectively sending him to the ground in agony.
Harry bit back a laugh and pulled Hermione away from the writhing kid and back to the castle, away from the chaos outside.
Needless to say, Gryffindor was awarded the Football Cup, with eighteen red cards and twenty-two yellow being handed out, the game was called early, and Dumbledore told Dean that there would be no football tournament the next year, which Dean reluctantly agreed to. The sport brought forth way to much antagonistic actions between the houses, mostly because half the students didn't even know what a football was.
It was great while it lasted, but Harry decided that he would rather watch Dean play professional football anyways.
*****
Later that night, Harry and Hermione were huddled over a certain piece of parchment cluttered with letters and numbers, no closer to figuring the whole thing out than they had been a month ago.
"Some things…they just…" Hermione groaned, pulling at her hair. "I just don't understand…and no one can help…"
Harry laughed, landing a soft kiss on her cheek before putting forth a suggestion. "You know Hermione, why don't we take a little field trip to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow? I'm sure they have a record of the theory somewhere, and maybe we'll be able to question whoever discovered it or wrote it or whatever. It couldn't hurt, could it?"
Hermione considered for a moment and nodded. "I don't suppose so, except for the fact that if McGonogall finds out she'd give us a month of detention for leaving school without permission…"
"-but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" Harry cut her off with a grin, knowing that she couldn't resist it and she would break down.
"Oh…okay Harry. We'll leave after breakfast tomorrow. But we better not get caught!"
*****
Breakfast was a humorous affair the next morning. Harry and Hermione kept eyeing each other and grinning, while Ron was oblivious to it all. Dean and Seamus were cracking jokes every five seconds, making everyone laugh.
But the best part came right after Neville came and sat down, a sort of dreamy expression on his face. "What's up with you Neville?" Seamus asked him, interested.
"Oh nothing much, I just got a date for the next Hogsmeade weekend, that's all." The guys exploded and started patting Neville on the back and congratulating him while he told them all about this seventh year Hufflepuff that he had asked to Hogsmeade.
"So an older woman, eh chap?" Dean said, getting a nod from Neville. Dean grinned. "Well you know what they say, women are like dog shit, as they get older they're easier to pick up!"
All the guys howled in laughter, tears brimming their eyelids and then spilling out while the girls all looked at Dean with a great look of disgust.
Harry nearly wet himself laughing, but stopped immediately when Hermione glared at him with a you're-not-getting-anything-tonight-if-you-don't-shut-up look on her face. Dean, Harry noticed, was on the receiving end of a very similar look from Ginny. Coughing to try and erase the mental image of the girl he thought of as a sister doing anything of that nature, he got up and left the table, Hermione following him.
After a quick trip to Gryffindor Tower to retrieve the parchment containing the riddle, Harry and Hermione snuck out one of the many exits of the castle to Hogsmeade.
*****
From Hogsmeade they created a…rule-bending portkey…and found themselves at the phone booth in front of the Ministry of Magic. They stepped in, Harry dialing the code, and waited for a response.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Will you please state your names and purpose?"
"Erm…Harry Potter and Hermione Granger…umm…Research?"
"Very well," The perfectly mechanical voice toned back to them, the chirping cutting off as a clanging began from the coin return slot, signaling the arrival of their badges.
Cling Cling.
Harry picked up the badge, fearing the worst.
Harry Potter
Research Mission
He rolled his eyes and handed the other badge to Hermione; she mimicked his actions.
"Honestly, can't they come up with something else?"
Whatever Hermione's response may have been was cut off as they were both whisked away to the Ministry of Magic. Harry landed with a thud, keeping his feet firmly on the ground, while Hermione, not being so lucky, ended up on the ground below him.
He smirked at her. "Aren't I supposed to be the one that lays under you?"
In response Hermione kicked upwards and caught Harry squarely in the groin. He fell down with an oof and Hermione stood back up, a triumphant smile on her face. Harry winced and rolled back, pressing his hands to the ground, and with a push jumped up from his back and landed on his feet, right next to Hermione.
She gave him an appraising look before heading forward to the Directory Desk. After checking in their wands, Harry and Hermione were redirected to the Arithmancy Department.
Upon arriving at the office doors to the Department that rivaled The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in terms of size and importance, Harry and Hermione were greeted by a young witch with a smile. "Hello, how may I help you today?" She asked them warmly.
Hermione took the initiative. "Hi, we are doing research on a riddle from a few years back - nineteen eighty, to be exact - and were hoping that you might be able to help us with it?"
The witch smiled and nodded. "Sure, we have an archive of every riddle ever recorded for the past four hundred and seventy-two years. If you will give me the first three digits of your poem, I'll be able to find it for you."
Hermione did so and the witch disappeared for a moment before coming back. "The riddle you requested information for is already in your position, yes?"
Hermione nodded.
"I am sorry, but there is no further information on the riddle other than that which is written down." The woman blinked a few times as if trying to refocus her eyes, and continued. "The riddle has been translated many times and it is most certainly correct," She said in a flat tone, answering a question neither of them had asked or had planned on asking. "that is all of the information I can offer. Good-bye."
The woman twitched a little as her eyes swam around the room; Harry and Hermione took this as their cue to leave, and they did.
"That was…" Harry began, but was interrupted by Hermione.
"Utterly useless! And…strange."
*****
It was much later that week that Harry found himself in the Room of Requirement, after one of Snape's detentions. The slimy git had made Harry mop every dungeon used for classes with no magic. Now Harry was used to mopping from his time with the Dursley's, but what Snape made him do was immoral. There were fifteen in-use dungeons, each of them taking at least twenty minutes to mop, even for someone as experienced at it as Harry.
Now Harry did what he had been doing behind everyone's backs ever since Christmas. The room was dark and musty, with pale targets lined up all around the edges as well as the center; some were stationary while others moved like leaves in the wind.
Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled out his wand and waved it in a complicated maneuver, taking aim. "Kriksudo!"
Purple light - an indicator of very dark magic - shot from his wand and pierced one of the targets, melting it into an unidentifiable puddle of…stuff.
"Salzikendo!"
"Prothemis!"
"Mrandef!"
"Lonvibar!"
He shot multitudes of dark spells every which way around the room, satisfied with his progress. It had taken a while, but Harry had finally mastered quite a few dark spells. He told himself that it was so that he would be prepared for whatever Voldemort might throw his way; and it started like that, certainly. But now…Harry found himself enjoying the power that the spells gave him. The power to melt something, or incinerate it, with the use of only one word. For some reason, it made Harry feel good, it was a great way for him to relieve stress.
Taking another deep breath, Harry tried something that he had never done before, although he had pondered on the idea. Dark magic was powerful in itself, but what if the incantations themselves were spoken in Parseltongue? Not only would an opponent not know what was coming (barring them being a Parseltongue themselves), but if one combined a dark language with a dark spell, just how dark would the result become?
Taking a deep breath, Harry had the room conjure a brick wall.
Raising his wand, he screamed the incantation of a dark blasting charm in Parseltongue.
"Sracius Salicie!"
The resulting explosion picked Harry up off of his feet and hurled him twenty feet across the room, slamming him into the opposite wall. Harry took a moment to stand, and groggily rubbed his eyes, picking his glasses off the ground and putting them on.
He looked over to where the brick wall had been and his jaw dropped to the floor.
There was nothing left of it.
In the middle of the room there was a pile of dust, nothing more.
*****
A/N: Okay, there ya go, a chapter that actually has plot points in it! Woo-hoo! Dunno when the next chapter will be up, but keep an eye out for it! Hit me up with a review if it fits your fancy!
Go Cubs!