Author's note: I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! To all those who care (Anyone??). I'm in my last year of school; A really intensive one that requires more study than sleep… But I said I would write every week and I haven't, so I really do apologise- But I really had to study.
Anyway, onwards! This chapter proved damn near impossible to write! I had intended this to be a sort of interactive fic- so tell me what you want in your reviews as well as your fabulous praise!
Disclaimer: Book six book six book six book six… I need Valium… Oh, yeah: "I am not, nor have I ever been, J.K. Rowling."
Oh My God My Eyes My Eyes I'm Blind
'Oh my God' screamed Remus John Lupin, ex-professor of Defense Against The Dark Arts at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and wizardry and Werewolf extraordinaire, in hysterical desperation. 'My Eyes!' he rubbed his eyes, 'My Eyes! I'm Blind!'
He slammed the door. Quickly. As quickly as possible. In fact, quicker than one would have thought possible. Anyway. Pushing through the shell-shocked group of order members, ensuring that one at the top of the stairs met a painful, untimely, and for once, not Voldemort induced, death.
His terrified comrades looked on as he ran around in circles, clutching his greying hair and veering precariously close with every oscillation to the stairs, at the foot of which a poor unfortunate order member lay groaning and then, still.
'Oh… my fucking head', came a muffled groaning from the vicinity of the front room downstairs. Lupin stopped abruptly and cautiously, aware that something more was to come. He tiptoed down three steps in the narrow stairs, eventually grasping the banister and bending to peer through the railings like a scared child.
Tonks stumbled out into the hall. Lupin's eyes opened wide.
'Big Boy!' squealed Tonks in intoxicated enthusiasm.
Lupin's eyes opened even wider. So wide, in fact, that even through her drug induced stupor, Tonks resolved to get his thyroid function tested.
'Remus!'
Lupin spun around with a squeak. Harry was standing at the top of the stairs, buttoning up his shirt and smiling as if he hadn't just been caught fucking his best friend. Hermione, speak of the devil, appeared behind him, gathering her hair into a ponytail behind her, and holding her scrunchy in her mouth.
'Peh-feff-ah', attempted Hermione. She took the hair tie from her mouth. 'I mean, Professor'. She smiled amiably. 'Sorry about that', she gestured with her head to the bedroom that Harry and herself had just emerged from.
'N-nothing to be sorry…' Lupin muttered wildly, quickly and high pitched. 'Completely natural… beautiful thing…'
He screamed softly when the passed him on the stairs, hand in hand.
At the foot of the staircase, they stepped gingerly over the bruised and unnaturally angled body.
'Oh, by the way', Hermione said, looking over her shoulder at the people at the top of the stairs while Harry went to find Ron, Luna and Ginny, 'There's a body at the foot of the staircase, did you know?'
That sounded strangely, and quite disturbingly, familiar.
****
About fifteen minutes later, Harry, Hermione, Luna, Ron, Ginny, Lupin and Tonks sat in the living room. The entourage of the Order of the Phoenix had left, embarrassed.
Poor Ginny. Poor, poor Ginny. She was the only one without a partner latched on to a part of her anatomy. Tonks had found a way to distract Lupin from the shock. Luna was, in fact, attached to quite an inappropriate part of Ron's anatomy. Hermione sat on Harry's knee, playing with his hair. Ginny went back to sleep on the sofa.
After twenty minutes of this, the narration of which would be absurdly boring, Harry asked Lupin where they would be going; would it be Grimmauld Place?
'So, are we going to Grimmauld Place, or what?'
Lupin replied in the negative.
'No'.
Harry probed further.
'So… Where are we going, then?'
Lupin was evasive.
'Ah, you know… Here and there'.
Hermione tried a different tack.
'Who all's going?'
'You and Harry'.
'So… Where are Harry and I going?'
Lupin chose not to answer.
Harry and Hermione gave up what was obviously a pointless exercise.
'So…' said Harry. 'We'll go and pack for this trip to…?'
'….'
'Ah, fuck it… We'll just pack', he swore, exasperated.
Hermione stood up, holding her hand out for Harry. Would they be leaving right now? It was kind of late, after all. Hermione asked Lupin this.
'Are we leaving now? It's kind of late, after all'.
'No'. A voice came from the doorway. It was Dumbledore. 'We will leave by first light. By the dawning of the golden sun we shall be gone from this place…' The end of this statement sounded almost tuneful. All eyes were on Dumbledore now, and all eyebrows raised.
'Are you coming. Professor?', asked Harry.
'Yes', said the old man.
'Where are we going, sir?' prodded Hermione cautiously, as the last time she had encountered Dumbledore had been hugely disconcerting if not disturbing. She hoped he was a bit more in touch with reality now.
'I don't really know…' replied Dumbledore in innocent sincerity. 'I want to show Harry to the home of his ancestors in Godric's Hollow. But, unfortunately, all who were in on its whereabouts are dead'. He gave a good-natured laugh. 'You might say, we are going on a quest'.
Dumbledore, smiling happily, walked past a bewildered Harry and Hermione, ruffling Harry's hair as he passed. Harry looked outraged. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione grabbed his hand and spoke first.
'Are you telling me, sir, that we are preparing to search the whole of Britain for one house?' Her voice was getting louder as screechier by the second.
Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but was again beaten to the post.
'No, no, no, my dear', came Dumbledore's calm voice. 'The Fidelius Charm was cast to include Britain and Ireland'.
Harry and Hermione's mouths gaped.
'That will take for ever!', said Harry in a strangled whisper. 'Are you insane?' The last word was spat out in a vehement whisper with accompanying hand gestures.
'No', replied Dumbledore. 'Well… Yes. But not dangerous'.* 'If you and Miss Granger cannot find a way to narrow down the search, then this quest may well take up the better part of our sad lives… But do not despair!'
'…'
'…'
'Do not despair?' said Harry breathlessly. 'Do not despair???' Again, this was a whispered growl. 'I'll give you "Do not despair" you senile, incontinent, crazy old man!'
Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly.
'I suggest you pack quickly, as we leave in a matter of hours'.
Harry let out a scream of frustrated rage as stormed upstairs.
Harry was chucking cloths and possessions into a bag, willy-nilly, as Hermione opened the door and peered in. She smiled at Harry fondly. He looked up in a huff. He raised an eyebrow.
'Well', said Hermione, in answer to his silent question. 'Dumbledore's gone off the deep end, hasn't he'.
Harry nodded fervently as Hermione moved to sit on the bed beside Harry's bag. She spoke again.
'He's not thinking straight, you see'.
'Go on…', said Harry hesitantly.
'There are clues to be found Harry. In books, I mean. Firstly, Godric's hollow can't have been in England. Your mother hated the English. There's a quote in Witches With Attitude in which she says that she would rather pluck out her eyes than live in a country that has oppressed her people for centuries.'
'Ewww', said Harry, his nose wrinkled in disgust.
'So', Hermione ploughed on, 'We're talking about Scotland, Wales and Ireland. And we could narrow it down again by taking into account the fact that Evans is a really common name in Wales and the west of Ireland'.
Harry sat with a disgusted look on his face. 'Pluck out her own eyes?' he said, mostly to himself. 'For fuck's sake… That's disgusting. No wonder I'm so messed up…'.
'Harry', Hermione tried to get his attention. Nothing.
'Ewww', Harry said again.
Hermione slapped him across the face.
'Thanks', mumbled Harry, shaking his head. 'Needed that'.
Harry sat down on the bed and Hermione moved onto his lap, playing with his hair.
'So', she said. 'We're going to look in Wales and the west of Ireland. You'd better pack warm clothes'.
Harry looked puzzled. 'Wales? The west of Ireland?' he asked. 'I've heard that they kill Englishmen and eat them and that they live in thatched huts and that they speak a different language and that they like sheep a lot. A lot, lot'. He said without taking a breath.
Hermione was stunned. 'Harry', she said evenly. 'That is completely insane. Except for the part about the languages. I read that your mum could speak all the Celtic languages. I can only speak Irish and Scots. I'm sure Dumbledore speaks Welsh…' she trailed off'.
Harry snorted derisively. 'Do you trust Dumbledore to accurately translate right now? I read somewhere that when J.F. Kennedy was president of America he went to Sweden and he had this interpreter, but the interpreter was really shit. And he said to the Swedes "I love the Swedish people" but his interpreter translated this to "I desire you all carnally". And the people all went quiet and were all insulted…'
'As you would be…' said Hermione hesitantly. 'Ah, well, what's the worst that can happen?'
'Well', replied Harry, knowledgeably, 'when the ad "Come alive with Pepsi" was traslated in to mandarin Chinese, it turned out to mean "Pepsi makes your ancestors come back from the grave"'.
'What?' said Hermione. 'Harry, where did you find all this?'
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione interrupted.
'Never mind', she said quickly, and Harry looked crestfallen at the loss of the opportunity to prove to Hermione that he knew things. Actually, that's precisely the reason Hermione interrupted him. 'Let's pack'.
She waved her wand and her own bag appeared on the bedroom floor, inside out. Harry stifled a laugh as he waved his wand and his case packed itself.
Hermione managed to fix her case before she rounded on Harry with a mischievous glint in her eye.
'So', she whispered seductively. 'Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?'
Harry lifted her off his knee and placed her on the bed, moving on top of her.
'Right… Here, I think'. He smiled playfully.
Hermione took her wand in her hand and aimed it at the door 'Colloportus'.
The door locked itself with a squelching sound and Hermione looked back at Harry. She tossed her wand to the side and Harry's lips met hers. She opened the buttons of his shirt as quickly as she could. It was so much easier earlier when he was wearing a T-shirt. Harry was a faster worker than she was, when he put his mind to it, and he had her top off in a heartbeat, followed by her bra.
There was no ceremony with the trousers. Shoes were kicked off first, breaking mirrors and thumping on the floor, which was the roof of the living room below. Before they knew it, all that separated them was Hermione's knickers. Harry almost tore them off in his hurry, but they were remarkable resilient, having withstood two Harry attacks in as many hours.
Soon, the headboard of Harry's bed banged the wall in time to the Harry's rhythm and Hermione's moans and gasps accompanied the music of lurve.
Remus, downstairs, grew progressively more uncomfortable, and began to sing to drown out the thumps, moans and, by now, screams emanating from the room upstairs. Anything to stop the noise. Unfortunately, for all involved, that anything happened to be Britney Spears. Wandering around the living room in a daze he sang, as loudly as the sex required: 'Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to know…'
'Oh my God… Oh, Harry… Hit me baby one more time, is right'
Lupin hit the high notes, though there were really supposed to be none, to the primal scream from the two young people upstairs, while Dumbledore watched him in mild admiration.
Dumbledore clapped when the house went silent and the banging upstairs stopped.
*****
Read Please!
I am fluent in Irish but am only learning Welsh, so I need a bit of help from Portkey readers! BenTheSlayer, I know you're Welsh as you told me in a review. All I need is a few (grammatically correct) phrases!
Do not flame me for racism! I am Part Irish, Part Welsh and Part English, even though I grew up here in Ireland. I'm only having a laugh at relations between the countries of the British Isles!
Many thanks for reading- I now feel I have a plot to the story, but I would still appreciate Ideas in that department! Thank You All!
* Taken from Barry Trotter And The Dead Horse (read it- a really funny Harry Potter Parody)
Please Review. If you must leave a flame, please leave a name!
Thanks a million again and sorry about the delay!