Chapter Five: Oh, Sweet Revenge
The three boys ran down empty hallways late for their first class of potions. "I'm so sick of Peeves! What do you think Snape will do?" Harish asked as they flew down three flights of stairs.
"Dunno, Charlie always—"
"—says that Snape is really strict but not always with his own house."
"So really it depends on what kind of mood he's in."
They walked into the dungeon and saw Snape hovering over a boy's melted form of a cauldron. "Uh, oh." Harish quietly exclaimed in Parseltongue. Fred and George, the only ones within earshot of his comment, gave him odd looks.
"You three! Why are you late?" Snape asked his greasy hair hanging down in clumps.
"Peeves—" George was saying.
"He locked us in a filthy little closet!" Harish interrupted.
"We've already missed Charms!" Fred exclaimed.
"Alohamora wouldn't even work!" George sounded frantic.
"A CLOSET!" Harish exclaimed.
"Take a seat. NOW!" Snape snapped at them, not wanting to hear any more of their story. Instantly the three boys sat down at a table together. At least he didn't take any points.
Harish's mind began to wander to their breakfast as Snape went on about a potion that Harish had already read all about. They were sitting in the Great Hall eating as Percy and Charlie made their way over to them.
"Mother will be so ashamed of you," Percy had said with his nose stuck in the air, "when she finds out that you were sorted into Slytherin."
"Well isn't—
"That wonderful,"
Percy was about to say something else when Harish stood up, "I think that they will do well in Slytherin." He had said, "I do not think that it's right for you to look at your brothers with scorn just because they were sorted into your rivaling house. It is very foolish and silly."
Percy glared at him. No one had ever called him foolish. He harrumphed and pranced off to the Gryffindor table. Fred let off a low whistle.
"Thanks buddy." George said to Harish sincerely.
"But… why did you do it?" Charlie asked.
The twins just grinned at him slyly, and sensing that they weren't going to reply, he left as well.
Then, of course, they were walking down the corridor, Fred and George planning a prank on Percy, and Peeves had shoved them into a broom closet.
Now as he emerged from his thoughts he noticed that the twins were still looking at him oddly. He raised an eyebrow, questioning them silently.
"You never said—" George started.
"That you were a parselmouth!" Fred exclaimed.
"Well, I didn't find it essential. I'm technically the heir of Slytherin and that normally doesn't bode well."
The twins were now openly gaping.
"Don't look at me like that! I'm not really as prejudice as some. My father is the heir of Slytherin and I am his heir."
"Yes, but—"
"Slytherin's heir actually murdered someone. The school—"
"Was almost shut down!"
"And now we get to the technicalities." Harish sighed. "That was not my father. That was an imposter, and that's all I'm saying because that's all I know."
He really didn't want others to think badly of him because of his father. A lot of people would freak out if he went around stating that his father was the heir of Slytherin, and that always meant that they would figure out that he had murdered someone when he was only sixteen.
The rest of the class he spent immersed in his thoughts as he brewed his potion. The class went by quickly, ending with Snape pointing out how well his potion looked. Harish was smug. Of course his potion was perfect—he had been tutored by his father for the past four years, and no child of Lord Voldemort could be anything less than perfect.
HARISH-LIKES-BOOKS—NERD!
Snape looked at the Blake boy again. He really did look familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on where he had seen him. The boy was lounging easily in his chair adding ingredients into his potion as needed. He had a look of boredom and arrogance in his eyes. Otherwise, his face was arranged in a polite mask.
Snape smirked as the cheeky brat commented on one of the directions he had left on the board. The boy mentioned that the step had been written wrong with a hint of disdain in his voice, but it made Snape proud. He always did that to pick out the potential potion makers. This boy obviously knew some things about potion brewing. The Professor wondered if the child had been privy to earlier tutoring. Blake was just too good to not have had prior instruction. He sighed and decided to give up trying to figure out who the child looked like.
SNAPE-IS-STUMPED—WHAT-WHAT!
Molly Weasley was standing in the kitchen, fixing dinner. She was chopping vegetables as the dishes were washing themselves in the sink. Ginny was standing by the icebox, getting out of the rest of the ingredients. Molly looked up as a Hogwarts owl swooped in.
"A letter from Hogwarts already?" She asked with concern, "I hope that one of the boys hasn't already gotten in trouble." She took the letter from it and started reading. Ginny, who was helping her out, watched as Molly's eyes zipped back and forth across the page. A frown furrowed between her eyes and her mouth fell open in shock. After a minute of staring dumbfounded at the letter, Ginny's mother ran to the fire, flew down some Floo Powder and yelled, "Arthur get in here, now!"
Seconds later, Arthur, tall and balding, spun out of the green flames. "What is it? I was working…" he asked, but trailed off as Molly shoved the letter under his nose. He read it more slowly, but his face had turned white, and his mouth was open in shock as well.
"What is it?" eight-year-old Ginny asked, furiously stamping her foot in impatience.
Her parents, however, ignored her and started mumbling to each other. Molly set the letter down on the table, sat down, and put her hand up to her face. Ginny, seeing her chance, snatched up the letter and began to read it.
Dear Mum and Dad, it read.
I am so sorry to tell you this, but before you read this letter, you'd better sit down. As you know, Fred and George were sorted this evening, and I regret to tell you that they are both in Slytherin. They have befriended a boy named Harish Blake (also in Slytherin) who I believe may have coaxed them into forcing the hat to sort them there.
Your dutiful son,
Percy.
Ginny actually giggled. This sounded like something the twins would do. She wondered who this Harish Blake was though.
Ron, her brother, who was a year older than her, suddenly bounded into the kitchen. "When's dinner? I'm hungry!" he whined.
Then his eyes fell upon his dad, who was back early. Then, his mom, who was sitting slumped in a chair. Finally, he noticed Ginny, holding a letter.
"Let me see that!" Ron said, snatching it out of Ginny's hands. After he had read it, his eyes narrowed in distaste. So Fred and George, the traitors, were sorted into Slytherin and it was all this Harish Blake's fault. He was probably the son of a Death Eater or something. Ron wondered how the twins could have been led onto the wrong path.
:p ANGRY-FACES—PREJUDICE-RONNIKINS d:
After Potions ended, the boys ran (under the persuasion of Harish) to the staffroom to find Professor Flitwick and explain why they weren't there for their first class.
"Professor Flitwick?" Harish asked as they entered the room.
"Yes, Mr Blake?"
"We want to apologize for missing your class," he replied nudging the twins painfully in the ribs.
"Yeah," they said in unison.
"Not that we had—"
"Much of a choice in it."
"Peeves locked us in a closet," Harish explained.
Flitwick's eyes narrowed. "I need to be having a talk with the Bloody Baron. It's already bad enough that he antagonizes the teachers and students, but recently he's locked seven different students into various closets. Maybe the Baron can straighten him back out again…"
The three boys looked at each other in disbelief, relieved that Flitwick had believed him. Harish gave a start as Flitwick walked out of the room.
"Professor!" Harish shouted.
"Hmm?" the tiny professor hummed, stopping and turning back to the three boys.
"What about our homework?"
"Oh, yes! Just read the lesson on Levitation Charms and write six inches on it." And he hustled off to find the Bloody Baron.
Just as they were about to head out as well, Professor Blackthorn bent over and began coughing really hard. Harish stopped and looked at him for a minute.
"Are you all right, sir?" he asked.
The middle-aged Professor nodded and stood up straight, wiping some sweat off of his forehead. "Yes, yes I'm fine."
"Okay," he said, not really convinced, but not wanting to press any further. Finally, the three of them reluctantly left.
The boys then headed to the dungeons to get started on their homework (for Harish); the twins, however, were wanting to plan a prank on Percy, and Peeves if they got to him, and possibly Charlie, and the annoying, snotty kid in their dorm…
"Come on!" Harish sighed, "You have to do your homework!"
The twins started grumbling simultaneously about "too much work".
"Fine," Harish huffed, putting his quill to the piece of parchment. "It's not my problem if you make T's."
The twins sighed in unison and pulled out some parchment as well. Their mother would ground them for the rest of their lives if they made T's in their school work.
As soon as all three of them finished, the twins dragged Harish up to their dormitory forced him to sit on his bed.
"Now, Harish," Fred began.
"We know how childish you think—"
"Pranking is. But we're—"
"Going to change that today."
"You are going to help us—"
"To prank Percy, whether you—"
"Like it or not." Harish sighed and picked at his sheets as the twins launched into their plan, often asking Harish for input.
DEVILISH-EVIL-GENIUSES—HE-HE-HE
Percy woke up and rubbed his eyes. He blearily pulled on some clothes, squinting badly in the bright light. Then he combed his hair as he walked down to the Great Hall. At first, he didn't notice the people laughing and pointing, but soon he caught on that they were laughing at him.
"What is it?" he snapped at his friends, who were doubled over in laughter. Someone walked past their table and smacked his on the back of the head. Seeing his aggravation, one of his friends handed him a mirror. Everything he had on; his hair, his robes, and even his shoes, were dyed green and silver. He looked down at the front of his neon-green shirt.
It read: I am a stuck-up, good-for-nothing, judgemental idiot.
He twisted it around to look at the dark green and grey striped back. It read: Slap, punch or kick me. I'm a halfwit dunce; I'd love any of them.
Percy could feel his ears turning red. He growled dangerously. He knew exactly who did this, and they would get in so much trouble for this.
PERCY-REALLY-IS-A-DUNCE—AW-YEAH!
The twins laughed with satisfaction. Harish bowed as the insults on Percy's shirt now also read: I am a snitch, a tattle-tale, a bigmouth, a busybody, a blabbermouth, and a sleaze-monger. It had been Harish's idea for the different variations of the word tattle tale to appear on the shirt if Percy had ratted them out, expecting that he would. He really had enjoyed this, although his father wouldn't be pleased, it had been fun.
The twins smirked at each other; they had finally wormed out the real Harish. Not the one hiding behind the glum, dull, and sceptical mask. They now saw childish glee in Harish's eyes. The twins knew that the professors would have to watch out. They now had three devilish pranksters to deal with for the next seven years. George came up with the ideas, Fred put the plot into action, and Harish supplied good spells and insults. Together, they were going to make their teachers' lives hell.
THE-TWINS-ARE-WORTHY-OF-SLYTHERIN—THANK-YOU-VERY-MUCH!
The week went by quickly, with their first prank making it pretty interesting. With Percy showing up on the second full day of the term looking the way he had, everyone in Slytherin began to accept the twins.
Apparently, a prank of such magnitude on their own brother, no less, showed a sense of House pride which cut them some slack. A fourth-year boy even came up to the twins and told them that if they continued to act in such a Slytherin manner that they might be able to absolve themselves of their blood-traitor status.
Then, the next day, Percy entered the Great Hall, his front holding proof that he had ratted on his brothers. Professor McGonagall, luckily, had no way to prove that it was them. So, no points were taken, even though she did keep them behind after class to 'help' her sort through some homework. Percy's Slytherin get-up finally disappeared on Saturday, after five days of the prank. Several teachers were very impressed and Flitwick used them as an example when he was teaching his third year students Hair-Changing Charms. After the week going by without a hitch, the trio started plotting for their next prank.
Harish smiled, reading the letter he had just received from his father. It was written in response to the one Harish had sent to him about their prank. At first, his father had freaked out and started listing threats and reasons about how silly pranking was. Then he moved on to talk about how proud he was that Harish was showing "true Slytherin antics". Then, he gave them some advice on not being caught in the act of their pranks. The twins decided that they would like Harish's father very much.
"Your dad sounds—"
"Very interesting, Harish."
"No, he's usually really dull," Harish replied, surprised at what they had said.
"Well, at least he doesn't—"
"Rant on and on about—"
"Muggles. Non. Stop."
Harish merely grunted in reply and he started to stroke and talk to Isis.
"Don't do that," Fred said.
"Do what?"
"That," George replied. "You're stroking the snake."
"It's creepy," Fred added.
"Well, she was commenting on you two," Harish said acting as if it was perfectly normal to be talking to a snake.
"Oh?" the twins asked sarcastically.
Harish gritted his teeth, "She was saying tha-that you were doing me some good." After a pause he clarified, "Loosening me up."
The twins looked from him, to Isis, then to each other. Then, after a pause, the both started laughing.
"Come on!" George said, punching his arm.
"Laugh! It'll do you some good," Fred said, taking George's lead and punching Harish's other arm.
Harish shoved them both face down into their beds in retaliation. There was another pause before the three of them started laughing again.
HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY
Dumbledore sat in the meeting with the faculty. He had observed Harish over the past week. In seeing Harish with a malicious glint in his eye, relishing in the prank they had pulled on Percy, he began to get worried.
How had this child taken hold of the Potter account? Only a direct descendant of the Potter line could have taken over that vault. He couldn't see how it was possible that this Slytherin brat could have possibly gotten a hold of it. There was no way on earth that he could be the Potter's heir. The child had a different surname for one thing. He sighed, his temples throbbing. He would think about it later.
The old man puzzled over it only half listening to the teachers remarking on what a prodigy the boy was. If he had been listening, the boy would have reminded him of a very similar student. Lord Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, as he had been known then, had seemed like a prodigy. He was charming and always did well in his school work. Harish was showing very similar traits to his 'father', but Dumbledore wasn't even paying close enough attention to notice.
UH-OH—DUMBLEDORE?
The trio were in an empty hallway with their arms full of different coloured dung-bombs. George had come up with a wonderful idea. He wanted to see what would happen if they changed the colour of the brown dung-bombs. He believed that the smoke would be multi-coloured. They had several black, green, and blue ones, but the prize of them all was the one that Harish had so cleverly enlarged and dyed multiple colours.
They decided to set that one off first, so Harish lit it and placed it in the centre of the hallway. After a second, blue, green, and red smoke shot out of the grand-dung. It smelled of rotten eggs and they whooped and cheered at the spectacular show. After the smoke cleared, they were about to set off another one, when they saw Filch at the other end of the hall. They froze. Fred had earlier said that if they were caught, that they should not try to escape until later, so that they could have a look in Filch's office. They were sure that there would be some valuable knick-knacks which had been confiscated.
So the three followed Filch along, half listening to Filch wheeze on about hanging children by their thumbs in the dungeons. They were led to his office in silence.
"Sit!" Filch barked. The three sat on a bench across from Filch's desk. Harish looked around the office as Filch listed their crimes. Immediately, Harish spotted a drawer labelled:Confiscated and Highly Dangerous. Harish discreetly nudged Fred and nodded towards the drawer. Fred then nodded to George, and before Filch could list their punishments, George lit a black dung-bomb and threw it at Filch.
Immediately, Harish flew towards the drawer aided by Fred and the two of them opened it and pulled out a heavy piece of parchment. Then, they grabbed George and fled from the room. They ran as fast as they could for the dungeons, hearing Filch screech angrily behind them. They finally lost him as they sought refuge in their dormitory.
COME-BACK-HERE-YOU-ROBBING-FILTH!
Filch! I thought WE did line-breaks!
*shove*
All fixed, Fred.
Thank you, George.
YAY!—THE-TWINS-OVERTAKE-THE-SOAP-GREMLIN!