Upon reading several "Marauders read the HP novels" stories, I noticed that events are out of order. Oh well, I am going to move those missed events to this chapter and chalk it up to this being an AU.
DISCLAIMER: I own only Lizzie, Whizzy and Michael. We clear on that? Good.
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Chapter 8 - The Forbidden Corridor
The next day, the prefects escorted the students down to the Great Hall for breakfast. When all the students were seated, Professor Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat.
"As you know, there was a troll loose in the dungeons last night. However, the faculty has subdued it and with the assistance of the Ministry of Magic has relocated it. Thankfully, no one was harmed. That is all." The food appeared, and everybody immediately forgot the previous night's incident in favor of the feast before them.
"What do we have today?" Blaise asked, spreading marmalade over a piece of toast.
"Potions, Transfiguration, History, and Flying. That should be interesting," Harry said, not looking up.
"How do you think the troll got loose?" Michael asked, stabbing a piece of sausage.
"The more important question is, what is a troll doing in the castle to begin with?!" Hermione replied. "Dumbledore may be a brilliant wizard, but really! Keeping a troll in a castle full of students is nothing short of irresponsible." Harry discreetly gave Michael a thumbs up.
"Think Snape set it loose?" Blaise asked, piling her plate with eggs.
"Nah," Harry said. "Vindictive git he may be, this isn't Snape's style."
"Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione admonished.
"When he acts like a professional, I'll address him as one," Harry said flatly.
"Now Quirrel, he's a shifty one," Michael said. "What self-respecting white male wears a purple turban?" Everybody shrugged.
"Guess we should go, before Snape docks points off of Gryffindor for being ten seconds late or something inane like that." With that, the four of them got up and left to the Potions classroom.
Potions was not particularly exciting. Snape seemed to pointedly avoid Harry, although continued to terrorize Neville Longbottom, as well as praise Draco Malfoy for his "perfect potion." But since Snape did not take any points, nor could he see neither Malfoy nor Longbottom's potions, he couldn't report Snape again. Not that is seemed to matter.
Transfiguration was more interesting, where they turned beetles into buttons. Hermione netted Gryffindor five points for making a perfect button. Harry and Michael succeeded next, but Blaise couldn't master it in time.
History of Magic held its usual luster as Professor Binns wheezed on about the Troll Wars of sometime or another; Harry was doodling on his parchment and wasn't paying attention. He noticed that Hermione was vigorously taking notes, but seemed to be fighting stay awake too.
After lunch, they made their way to the Quidditch pitch, where the brooms were already waiting. Along with them was the hawk-eyed flight instructor, Madam Hooch.
"Alright, everyone!" she shouted. "Everybody take your positions next to a broom." The students hurried to their positions. "Now, extend your right hand over your broom and say `up!'."
"UP!" the students shouted. Some brooms immediately snapped into their owners' hand, Harry and Michael among them. Some of them slowly drifted upwards like Blaise's, and other simply didn't move at all, like Hermione's.
"Up! Up! Up," Hermione said, but her broomstick simply rolled on the ground. She was getting frustrated when Harry gently placed a hand on her arm.
"Hermione, you're trying too hard. Take a deep breath, and calmly say `up'," he said, inhaling deeply. Hermione closed her eyes, took a breath, and quietly said, "Up?" This time, the broom shot into her hand so quickly, it almost went above her hand.
"Good work, Mister Potter," Madam Hooch said, who had been watching. "Five points to Gryffindor for assisting a student." Next, she showed the students how to mount their brooms. Harry, Michael and Blaise struggled to contain their laughter while Madam Hooch lectured Malfoy on how to mount a broom properly after bragging about how he had been flying for years before.
"Now, I want you to bend your knees slightly and kick off the ground," Madam Hooch instructed. The students kicked off, and they all hovered about a foot off the ground...except one, who kept going up, and up, and up.
"Mister Longbottom!" Madam Hooch shouted. "Get down here this instant!"
"I-I don't know how!" Longbottom shouted back, clearly afraid. Without a word, Harry flew up to Longbottom, and gripping the handle of his broomstick, gently lowered him back to solid ground.
"T-t-thanks," he stuttered, still shivering in fright.
"No problem," Harry said, gently patting him on the shoulder, before returning to his place amongst Michael, Hermione and Blaise.
"Well, I think that's enough for today," Madam Hooch said. "Class dismissed." Everybody set their brooms down and proceeded towards the castle.
"Think you're so good, eh Potter?" a snobbish voice said behind Harry. Harry rolled his eyes before turning around to see who spoke. It was the Malfoy boy, flanked by two dim-looking boys, presumably his bodyguards.
"You want something, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"Yeah. Proof that you're all talk and no action," Malfoy said smugly. "How about a wizard's duel?" Harry paused for a moment while he thought about it.
"When and where?"
"Harry!" Hermione hissed, scandalized.
"Play along," Harry whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"Ten o' clock, in the trophy room. Goyle here will be my second," Malfoy said, gesturing towards one of his guards.
"Fine. Michael'll be my second."
"I am?" Michael asked stupidly.
"See you at ten," Harry continued, ignoring him. With a smug grin, Malfoy and his entourage turned and left. As soon as they were gone, Hermione burst.
"Harry!" she shouted. "How could you do something so, so…stupid! You could get expelled!"
"Who said I was going?" Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow. A moment later, Hermione's eyes widened in realization, followed by Blaise. Michael's brow remained furrowed however.
"Could someone explain what just happened here?" he said.
"Harry isn't really going to duel Malfoy, Michael," Blaise explained. "That was very Slytherin of you, Harry."
"Thank you, Blaise. And if Malfoy comes to us tomorrow calling us cowards, then he might as well have admitted that he was out after curfew," Harry added. "Seriously, Mikey, I think you inherited Dad's brain blips."
"Oh ha-ha, Harry," Michael said sarcastically. "And don't call me `Mikey'."
The next day, Harry wore a smirk all through breakfast as Malfoy wore a scowl, presumably because Harry didn't get in trouble for their "duel" last night.
After Harry finally cracked and got some extra sleep in during History of Magic, the quartet was climbing up a stairway to the Common Room. But halfway up the stairs, it shifted towards another door.
"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Blaise groaned.
"Come on," Harry prompted. "Maybe we can find a different route to the Common Room." They opened the door, and saw a dank corridor, statues and armor covered with dust and cobwebs.
"I don't think we're supposed to be here," Michael said.
"Of course we're not, this is the third floor corridor, it's forbidden!" Hermione hissed.
"Oh." The four were startled by a soft meow. They spun around to see a mangy brown cat with blood red eyes.
"Oh crap, it's Filch's cat," Blaise groaned again.
"Run," Harry said, and they all broke into a mad dash away from the cat.
"Did you find something my sweet?" they heard Filch say in the distance. "We'll get them, oh yes, and they'll pay…."
"Quick, in here!" Harry said, pointing at a door. They jiggled the handle, but it was locked.
"Alohamora!" Hermione chanted, pointing her wand at the door. It clicked, and they all ran inside.
"That…was close," Michael gasped. "Filch'll never think to look in here."
"Of course not, this was locked," Hermione panted.
"And for good reason," Blaise whimpered, pointing forward. The other three looked up to see a massive three-headed dog leering at them, teeth bared.
"Oh."
"My."
"God."
"Run," Harry said, and they all ran out the door screaming, as the monstrous canine barked at them. The quartet didn't stop running until they had reached the Common Room.
"A hellhound!" Harry gasped. "Of all the things, a hellhound! What the hell is that thing doing here?!"
"Didn't you see its feet?" Hermione gasped exasperatedly.
"Sorry, Hermione, we were a bit busy with its heads!" Blaise wheezed.
"It was standing on a trap door; it was obviously guarding something. The question is, what?" Harry thought back on the newspaper article he saw at Hagrid's.
"Maybe it's whatever was supposed to be stolen on my birthday. But Hermione's right, what is `it'?" Everybody looked at each other, unsure of the answer.
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Well, that's that. Sorry about it being so short. Enjoy.
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For those of you who are wondering (and I'm sure that there's at least one of you who is), here's a brief history of Lizzie Black:
Lizzie was born Elizabeth Julia Davis May 18 1962 (making her two years younger than the Marauders) in Sacramento, California to Muggle parents. When growing up, she wanted to follow her mother's footsteps and become a doctor. When she was ten, she received a letter from the Salem Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While initially baffled by the idea of magic, Lizzie's mother accepted her heritage as a witch. Her father, however, took a very Dursleyish attitude towards it, leading to a series of arguments between her parents. They divorced during Lizzie's first year, and she adopted her mother's maiden name: White.
Lizzie still wanted to be a doctor, and homeschooled herself in Muggle studies on the side. After achieving enough S.W.A.T.'s (Senior Wizarding Achievement Tests; American equivalent of N.E.W.T.'s) to become a healer, she went to medical school, and became a certified doctor.
She met Sirius Black while he was chasing a fugitive from England (he was an Auror, see). During a firefight, he was injured, and Lizzie was the attending healer on his case. Sirius, being his usual charming self, hit on Lizzie. After they caught their fugitive, Sirius elected to stay behind for a few weeks, and they went out on a few dates. They kept in touch after he went back to England. After about a year, she went over to visit, and they struck up their romantic relationship again. It was about a month after she came that Sirius proposed to her. They married the same day as James and Lily. Lizzie gave birth to Michael Alphard Black July 27 1980.
Lizzie writes to her mother once or twice a month, and sends them via Whizzy, which is quicker and safer. She has not contacted her father since before the divorce.
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Here's a question for you: Why is it that when Sirius - the closest thing Harry had to a father figure - died, Harry seemed relatively fine, yet when Cedric - a boy Harry hardly knew - died, Harry nearly went off the deep end? And despite differing methods, both were killed in front of him, so it's not that.
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