Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Not Again!

Chapter 12

by Forty_Two 0 reviews

Position available: Enquire within.

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Humor,Parody - Characters: Harry,Hermione - Warnings: [!!!] [V] [?] - Published: 2015-06-22 - 2318 words


Chapter 12

Hogwarts without Snape was as if springtime had arrived in November. Acting Headmistress McGonagall convinced Horace Slughorn to come out of retirement and resume his previous post as Potions Professor and Head of House Slytherin.

Professor Kettleburn agreed to fill the vacancy created by McGonagall as he assumed the Head of House position for Gryffindor, though only on a temporary basis, he insisted. Despite his being a Hufflepuff in his youth, the Gryffs respected his bravery. How could they not? The man still taught Care of Magical Creatures after losing both an arm and a leg to the beasts he paraded in front of his students.

If the Gryffindors were happy with their new Head of House, the Slytherins were anything but. While Draco Malfoy had tried to connect Dumbledore's death with Harry Potter via his Mudblood friend, who had been present to witness the Headmaster's supposed 'heart attack' by the way, Draco could find nothing at all to link the hated Gryffindor with Professor Snape's demise. The blond Slytherin sorely missed the protection of his late godfather once he discovered how much had changed for the worse. He had recently overheard Slughorn speaking with another professor and referring to him, Draco, as 'that spoiled little whelp.'

This situation was all Potter's fault, somehow, Draco was certain of it. The problem was that while Potter had his Mudblood to help him plot, Draco was on his own. Pansy Parkinson was about as trustworthy as himself, which was to say not at all, while Crabbe and Goyle were totally useless where any sort of thinking was required.

Yes, Draco needed a way to put Potter in his place. What Draco sorely wanted was a sword and the ability to expertly wield it, but with those two idiotic Gryffindors parading around with their blades, Draco did not want to look like a copy-cat. His father would never approve of him sporting a Muggle weapon, anyway, so asking for tutoring in swordsmanship was right out. Still, Potter looked so patrician wearing that blasted scimitar...


"McGonagall will never approve of my spending Christmas break at your house," Harry protested.

"Oh honestly, Harry!" Hermione frowned in exasperation. "Are you a man or a mouse!? Would Mary Sue have asked Dumbledore? No! She would have told the Headmaster her plans and expected him to accept them! Now you march yourself up to the High Table and tell her!"

Reluctantly, Harry plucked up his courage and did just that.

"What did she say?" Hermione whispered as he returned to his place at the Gryffindor table.


"Okay? She said, 'Okay.'?"

"Erm, 'I see, Mister Potter. Thank you for informing me,' was how she put it," Harry quoted the Acting Headmistress.

"There! You see? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"McGonagall's not Dumbledore," Harry sighed with relief.

"And we can be thankful for that," Hermione nodded. "We can also be thankful that she can't read our minds."

"I wonder whether she's secured the Stone in that secret room already," Harry whispered.

"Or perhaps Dumbledore did before he died," Hermione considered.

"I don't think he would have," Harry shook his head. "He was supposed to hide it in a magical mirror and the mirror was not to be moved to its final location until sometime during Christmas break."

"How do you know this?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"There were seven books, remember? I've already read them," he quibbled. Bad enough that she knew that they were characters in a work of fiction. Harry did not want to let on that he'd already lived through the original and also many alternate plot scenarios. "That reminds me!" he quickly changed the subject as he jumped up from his seat to approach the High Table once more.

"Professor McGonagall? Professor Dumbledore once mentioned that he had borrowed a cloak or something from my father and he intended to return it to me. Do you know what he was talking about?" Harry asked innocently.

"Oh! Yes!" she seemed to know exactly what he was referring to. "You say the late headmaster told you that he planned to return it to you?"

"Yes, Ma'am. He said it was a Potter family heirloom and by rights it should be mine."

"Alright, then," the Acting Headmistress nodded. "Stop by my office immediately after lunch."

"What?" Hermione greeted the grinning Boy-Who-Lived as he returned to his seat. "What was all that about?"

"You'll see!" was all that Harry would tell her.


That evening as the two prepared to butcher melons once more in the Room of Requirement, Harry suddenly disappeared.

"Harry?" Hermione looked around in confusion. "Harry? Where are you? What's happened to you!?" she called. Beginning to panic, the bushy-haired witch held her scimitar at the ready, fearing that she might be the next to disappear. "Harry??"

"Yes?" a voice replied calmly from just behind her. Hermione turned to find Harry Potter's head floating just over her right shoulder.

"AHH!" she cried in surprise, pivoting and slashing horizontally with her blade.

Harry's head dropped to the floor and a shocked young wizard pulled back his Invisibility Cloak to reveal the rest of himself lying there in a jumble.

"You tried to behead me!!" he blurted out.

"Well - apparently I missed, didn't I?"

"Fortunately!" Harry replied indignantly. "All I wanted was to give you a bit of a surprise and you nearly killed me!"

"You mean to say that was your idea of a prank!? Why, you...!!" Hermione sheathed her sword and began kicking the Boy-Who-Lived anywhere and everywhere she could manage. "Take that! And that!!" she shouted as the curled-up wizard tried to protect himself from her vengeful feet.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry finally halted the barrage once he'd managed to locate his wand. Hermione stiffened, then teetered back and forth once or twice before toppling to the floor. "Finite Incantatem," he released her after he'd regained his feet.

"You've bruised my elbow!" Hermione shouted angrily, rubbing the affected joint as she picked herself up from the floor.

"And you've bloodied my nose!" Harry retorted, examining his crimson fingertips.

"Episkey!" Hermione's wand tip was only a few inches from Harry's face when she cast the healing charm. "There!" she huffed. "Stop your whinging! You're all better! What about my elbow?"

"Episkey!" Harry's wand returned the favor quickly enough. "You tried to kill me!" he repeated his earlier accusation.

"Stop your whinging!" Hermione also repeated. "You didn't die. How did you do that, anyway?"

"McGonagall returned my father's Invisibility Cloak to me," Harry grinned, reaching down to retrieve it. "Pretty cool, huh?" he offered it for her examination.

"You do realize just how much trouble we can get into with a cloak like this?" Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"How much trouble we can avoid, you mean!" Harry laughed.

"Either way, it's simply brill!" the bushy-haired one agreed.


They chose the night before the Hogwarts Express would take everyone home for Christmas break to make their attempt on the Stone. Under cover of the Cloak, they made their way to the second floor.

"Ostium Revelare," Harry waved his wand and his hidden door appeared. "Alohomora!" he muttered and it clicked open. Cautiously the two ventured inside.

"Lumos!" Hermione lit her wand.

"The mirror's not here," Harry sighed as he glanced around the nearly empty room.

"Maybe they've hidden the stone somewhere other than inside a magical mirror."

"Nope!" Harry pointed with his wand. "Not unless they thought leaving it wrapped up in brown paper, tied with string and sitting in plain sight on a small table counts as 'hiding' it."

"Really!? That's it!?" Hermione gasped, rushing over to pick it up.

"Wait!! Don't touch it!!" Harry warned. "It might be booby-trapped by an alarm spell of some kind!"

"Oh!" the bushy-haired witch froze in mid-reach. "I hadn't thought of that."

Harry walked up beside her and together they pondered the situation.

"Well?" Harry finally broke the silence.

"Well what?"

"What should we do?" he asked.

"This is your story!" Hermione turned to him with a frown. "Why ask me?"

"Because you're allegedly the brains of the operation," he smirked.

"Oh honestly, Harry!"


"It's rather obvious, isn't it," Hermione lectured. "We disturb the Stone, dash out the door, and wait to see whether someone comes to investigate."

"What if it's like in Indiana Jones and we get trapped in here?" Harry objected.

"Honestly, Harry," she sighed, shaking her head tiredly and walking over to their secret door. "Come over here."

"What?" Harry asked once he'd joined her.

"I'll levitate the Stone from here. If anything happens, you'll pull me backwards through the door and lock it."

"Hmm..." Harry considered. "Okay..."

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Hermione leveled her wand at the small wrapped parcel.

"Nothing seems to be happening," Harry noted hopefully, peeking over her shoulder at it.

"Aperio!" she cast another spell after canceling the levitation charm. The string untied itself and the brown paper unwrapped to reveal a rough red stone.

"Set it down on the floor," Harry suggested

Hermione levitated the Stone to rest on the floor, then they closed their door and sat down to wait under the Invisibility Cloak.

"What time is it!?" Hermione suddenly jerked awake. She had fallen asleep leaning against the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Um, half-two," Harry yawned as he checked his watch. "It's been two hours."

"Let's have a look, shall we?"

When they opened their secret door once more, there was the Stone, sitting right where they'd left it. Harry quickly wrapped it back up, tied the string and slipped it into his pocket. Once they were safely back in the second-floor corridor, he sealed the door and the pair hurried back to Gryffindor Tower.


"McGonagall doesn't seem any different this morning," Harry noted at breakfast. "I don't think she knows that it's missing," he whispered to his partner in crime.

"Just stressed about getting everyone on the Hogwarts Express on time," Hermione nodded. "I'll bet she'll be livid tomorrow, though."

"If she evens knows where Dumbledore put the Stone," Harry considered. "What if he never told her?"

"Then we're off the hook!" Hermione grinned widely and tucked into her breakfast.


Christmas with the Grangers was the best one Harry'd ever had - in this timeline, at least. All it had to do to win that distinction was to be better that his Christmases with the Dursleys. It was no contest, really.

"Are you going to ask your parents about putting the Stone in their safe-deposit box?" Harry reminded his hostess the day after Boxing Day.

"I've been thinking about that, Harry," Hermione began. "I'll bet a wizard - such as Voldemort, let's say - could easily Apparate into a Muggle bank vault, Alohomora the locks, and take what he wanted. Maybe our plan was not as sound as we'd hoped."

"What are we going to do, then?" Harry wondered.

"I'm not sure," Hermione frowned. "Maybe we could try hiding it in plain sight."


"In Hogwarts somewhere," she shrugged. "Maybe in the Room of Requirement?"

"Hermione, you're brilliant!!" Harry gushed, recalling the Room's ability to hide contraband items.

"Yes, I'm aware of that!" she smiled back.


It was the start of a new calendar year as the Hogwarts Express chugged into Hogsmeade Station. The Christmas holidays were now only a recent memory, but for the returning Ravenclaws, the memory was a pleasant one. Judging from the smirks on their faces as they boarded the horseless carriages, something was up!

The mystery deepened as the students began arriving in the Great Hall for the welcoming back feast. The other House tables began filling, but the Ravenclaw table sat completely empty. Gossip filled the Great Hall. Even the teachers at the High Table were whispering among themselves.

Then it happened! The doors at the far end of the Great Hall were thrown open and in marched House Ravenclaw! They walked smartly up the center aisle two abreast, their heads held high. Each one, from first year to seventh, had a sword of one type or another swinging from his or her waist!

There was a bit of a clatter as dozens of first-time sword wearers struggled with the previously simple task of climbing over a bench and taking a seat. There was a bit more of a commotion as the Hufflepuffs exchanged nervous warnings amongst their housemates. The Slytherins were angry that they had not thought up the idea themselves, and they were quite vocal in their denunciation of the Ravenclaw 'posers.'

Over at House Gryffindor, dozens of eyes darted back and forth between the Ravenclaw table and their own two blade-wearing first-years. No one said anything, but the sentiment was clear: Gryffindors should be the ones wearing swords! Not a bunch of bookworm Ravenclaw 'posers.'

That the Ravenclaws were posers was a rare moment of agreement between House Slytherin and House Gryffindor but sadly, no one thought to make an animated record of the event for future editions of Hogwarts: A History.

"Ahem!!" Acting Headmistress McGonagall stood to address the situation. She looked out over the four House tables until the students quieted down. "Yes! Well..." she said. She frowned, considered what she might say next, and then simply sat back down.

The Great Hall was utterly silent for perhaps five or ten seconds, then the stone walls reverberated with the metallic "f-shinnggg!" of swords being drawn from their scabbards. It seemed that most of the Ravenclaws - especially the younger ones - were very keen on using their new blades as serving forks, just as they'd seen Mary Sue do back in September.

"Poppy?" Professor Slughorn called down the High Table to the Hogwarts Healer, "How are your stocks of finger-regrowing potions?"

"Probably not sufficient," Madam Pomfrey admitted as she tucked in to her dinner. She ate quickly, fearing that her meal would soon be interrupted.

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