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Disclaimer: This fan fiction was based on the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership on any character created by J.K. Rowling, and no money is collected from this story. This is one way I show appreciation to J.K. Rowling's works. Other names or places on this story are fictional. Any similarity to actual name is purely coincidental.




Chapter 14: Unfortunate Events pt. 2

Harry apparated in a quiet street. He knew it wouldn't stay that way for long. After one hour, the street would be filled with cars of people getting home from work. For the moment, the empty street suited him.

He looked around to make sure nobody noticed his arrival. For a brief moment, he thought he heard another sound of Apparition. But since he didn't see anyone, he put it out of his mind. The house wasn't far from where he appeared. It only took him a moment and he was standing in the doorstep of Horace Slughorn's house.

Harry firmly tapped the door knocker three times and waited. The door opened and a big blond man greeted him. The man had a cruel face. There was no other way to describe it. Right now, he was giving Harry an odd look. "Good afternoon, sir. I would like to see Mr. Slughorn, please," Harry said politely.

"What is this all about?" the man asked suspiciously. He kept the door half-way closed behind him.

"I have a delivery for Mr. Slughorn. If you can get him for me, I'll be on my way," Harry explained politely.

"I'm Horace Slughorn. And, I have been waiting for that delivery since this morning." The man extended his hand.

Harry thought fast. Obviously, there was something wrong going on. "I apologize for being cautious, but these are expensive potion ingredients. My employer would thrash me if I...shall we say...misplaced these. Do you have any identification card to confirm your identity?" Harry knew he made a mistake when he saw the man's eyes narrowed. He forgot wizards didn't carry identification cards. And, it revealed he knew something for asking for an ID in the first place.

"Don't even think about it, mudblood." Harry found himself staring at the pointed end of a wand. "Step inside. Don't make any sudden move or you die."

The man stepped away from him as he entered. The door opened to a medium-sized foyer. The man motioned Harry to enter a door on his left. They entered a large cozy looking sitting room. Two large armchairs with a side table between them faced an elegant sofa. A Victorian style coffee table was placed in the center. All the furniture was elegantly arranged near a brick fireplace. Bound and sitting on one of the large armchairs was the man Harry was looking for, Horace Slughorn. Two wizards came out from their hiding places. Both of them were wearing white skull masks and black cloaks.

"Who is he, Gunthar?" asked the one standing behind Slughorn's chair.

"A mudblood errand boy..." Still pointing his wand at Harry, Gunthar addressed the other wizard. "You mention my name again, Gibbon, and you will regret it." The warning was spoken softly, but the message was clear. Gunthar had carefully guarded his identity to avoid charges of any crime. And, he wanted it to stay that way. "You... Put that bag on the coffee table and sit on that chair," he told Harry and pointed to a chair next to Slughorn.

"Accio wand!" Harry's oak wand flew out of his cloak pocket. "You don't think I forgot about your wand, do you?" The man named Gunthar grinned mockingly. Harry was soon bound and silenced on the armchair.


Harry considered his situation. It seemed he wouldn't come out of this one alive. He was tied with no wand. But, they didn't take the hunting knife behind his back. If he could get it, there may be a chance. That is, of course, if they untied him. He looked at Slughorn. The old wizard didn't look too good. It seemed these Death Eaters roughed him up a bit.

Another Death Eater entered the room. He opened a cotton towel and showed several vials of potions. "Gunthar, I found them." The big burly blond man frowned at the newcomer. Nevertheless, he took two vials of potions. He examined each one in the light. They were the color of molten gold.

Gunthar approached Slughorn. He canceled the Silencing Charm on his captive. "Are these the potions?" he asked menacingly, showing the vials in his hand.

"Y...Yes. Now that you have what you're looking for, will you let me go?" Slughorn was fearfully looking at the Death Eater. He looked like an animal trapped by hungry predators.

"Not yet. We have to test it first." He took the towel full of potion vials and carefully laid it on the coffee table. He picked one up and walked over to Harry. "Open your mouth." Harry only stared hard at him. Gunthar raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. "You will open your mouth." Harry kept his mouth shut. Gunthar lost his patience and angrily muttered, "Imperio!" He saw Harry's eyes went blank. "I command you to open your mouth." And, Harry did.

Gunthar poured the content of the small vial to Harry's open mouth. "Now, swallow the potion." And, Harry did. He waited for Harry to convulse and drop down, dead. When nothing happened, he, then, turned to Slughorn. "How do we know if the potion is working?"

Slughorn fearfully shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. The effect is only noticeable to the drinker."

Gunthar stared down hard at Slughorn. It didn't look like the old professor was lying. He nodded his head, satisfied with the answer. "Then, we're done here." He took out the oak wand from his cloak pocket, and placed it on Harry's hand. "Stand up." And, Harry did. "I want you to kill Horace Slughorn."

Slughorn's eyes grew wide in fear. He desperately began to struggle against his bond. "Wait! Wait! You can't do this. You promised you will let me go if I tell you where I hid the Felix Felicis potions."

"I am keeping my promise," Gunthar said with amusement. "I will let you go as soon as you're dead." He laughed aloud at his own wit. His men laughed with him.


Harry felt a feeling of euphoria well up inside of him after the Death Eater cursed him. He felt like he was in his happy place. For the first time, he felt free from his feelings of lost, betrayal, and doubt. He was savoring this feeling of freedom when he heard a voice telling him to open his mouth. It sounded reasonable enough. There was no harm done in opening his mouth. And so he did.

Suddenly, his clouded mind gained a little bit of clarity. When a voice ordered him to stand, he automatically stood up. But, he was beginning to hear other voices as well. He began to feel confuse. He couldn't decide whether the voices were figments of his imagination or something real. He felt somehow trapped, like a puppet on a string. The voice ordered him to kill Horace Slughorn.

"Why?" Harry had asked himself. "He didn't do anything wrong to me. In fact, I don't even know him." But, the voice was very compelling. He stood before the old man called Slughorn and looked down at him. He saw fear in the old man's tear-filled eyes.


Slughorn's eyes were brimming with tears. After all the years of running and hiding, he would end up dying like a cornered rat. He fearfully looked up at the clouded eyes of the errand boy. He poured all his desperation in his words. "Please, don't kill me. You are not a murderer. Please, I beg you." For a brief moment, he saw the boy's eyes flickered with awareness, and then it disappeared. Hope stirred in his heart. "Fight it, boy! Fight it!" he shouted hysterically. "You are being controlled! You don't kill innocent people! Fight it!"

Gunthar laughed even louder. As much as he loved killing, he loved it even more controlling others to kill for him. "There is no use escaping the inevitable. He is completely under my control. Go ahead, mudblood! Kill him with the Killing Curse!"

Harry slowly raised his wand. "Killing Curse?" he asked himself. "I don't think Hermione taught me that one?" And just like that, he remembered where he was. He turned his head, and looked directly at the Death Eater's eyes. "How exactly would I do that?" he asked sarcastically.

Before Gunthar realized the errand boy was no longer under his control, he was forcefully thrown backward hitting the wall with a loud thud. He slid down to the floor unconscious. His wand was ripped from his hand in the process. The other three Death Eaters hastily reached for their wands. Harry tried to disapparate to get behind the Death Eater named Gibbon. But, he couldn't do it. It felt like something was holding him in place.

Harry saw Gibbon and the other Death Eaters aiming their wands at him. He lightly kicked Slughorn in the chest to get him out of harm's way. He toppled over backward screaming all the way down. The high backed chair hit Gibbon's thighs and upset his aim. His Killing Curse went wild and hit instead a fellow Death Eater standing behind and just off Harry's left side.

Harry quickly jumped Gibbon, thereby avoiding another Killing Curse from the Death Eater who was standing near the door. They struggled on the floor losing their wands in the process. As they both tried to gain an advantage, their wands laid forgotten on the floor. Seeing an opportunity, the Death Eater near the door ran to Gunthar to wake him up. But before the Death Eater could do anything, a red beam hit him in the back. He slumped over Gunthar's body unconscious.

Horace Slughorn rose unsteadily to his feet. He had escaped his bond by laboriously crawling to the nearest wand lying on the floor. His borrowed wand still pointed to the two unconscious Death Eaters. He slowly and cautiously approached them. When he confirmed the two Death Eaters were still unconscious, he stunned them again, just to be doubly sure. He turned his attention to the two brawling wizards just in time to see the errand boy slammed Gibbon's head to the brick fireplace.

Slughorn walked unsteadily to Harry who was looking around the floor for his wand. "Here, I think this is yours." He gave the wand he was holding to Harry. He saw the boy quickly examined the wand before putting it in his cloak pocket. Slughorn went down on his knees and frisked the unconscious Gibbon. He smiled in triumph when he found his beloved wand. Accepting assistance from Harry, he painfully stood up. "Hurry... Gather all the potion vials. Other Death Eaters may be on their way. We have to get out of here while we still can."

Without bothering to ask any question, Harry quickly picked up all the vials. Fortunately for him, only a few rolled off the table. He put them back on the cotton towel and securely wrapped them all. He gave the towel back to Slughorn. "No. No. You hold them. You have a better chance of keeping them safe than I would. Let's just leave this place." Harry, not understanding what Slughorn meant, slid the cotton towel in his own cloak pocket.

They were about to leave when several Death Eaters suddenly appeared and blocked their exit. Slughorn immediately raised his wand in defense. He pulled Harry with him as he slowly backed away. The rank of Death Eaters parted in half. A tall figure covered with a black cloak entered the sitting room. It stopped in front of the Death Eaters. For a moment, it seemed to asses the situation. Then, the imposing figure's two pale hands with their long spindly fingers rose up and removed the hood covering its head.

Slughorn visibly paled. With a shaking voice, he uttered the stranger's name. "Voldemort."


Back at number twelve Grimmauld Place, six errant Hogwarts students were gathered at Ginny and Hermione's room. Cho had retired to her bedroom citing exhaustion as her excuse. Their exciting but rather short jaunt to Diagon Alley was quickly nipped in the bud. They were disappointed. No doubt about it, but not more so than Ron and Neville. And, the two blamed it all on Harry.

"I'm telling you. This is all Evans' fault." Ron was agitatedly pacing in the bedroom. "He set us up. He was all nice and concern for you, Hermione. But as soon as we left, he probably went to Charlie and Hestia, and told them. I wouldn't be surprised if he acted worried for our well being. He used us as his diversion to go to Diagon Alley himself." Ron stopped pacing and pointed his finger at Luna. "And, you... you saw him. Why didn't you immediately tell Charlie and Hestia."

Luna indifferently shrugged her shoulders. "I wasn't sure it was him," she said simply.

"Ron, you have an overactive imagination. I'm sure that's not what happened. Besides, you know perfectly well we shouldn't have left without proper escort for Neville." Hermione was starting to lose her patience. Whenever Harry was involved, Ron couldn't see past his nose.

"You can defend him all you like Hermione. I still say he's a git and a prat. Let's go Neville." Neville followed Ron out the door. They were on their way to their own bedroom when Neville stopped Ron.

"Evans and the twins were having a prank war, right?" Neville was smiling mischievously.

Ron looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. "So?"

"So... Let's go to his room and see all the pranks he planned to do. Then, we go to the twins and tell them." Neville expectantly looked at Ron waiting for his comment.

Ron smiled broadly. "That's brilliant, mate. I like it. Let's do it."


They climbed up the stairs to the third floor. Soon, they were standing in front of Harry's bedroom. Ron stood as look-out while Neville tried to open the door. It didn't take too much effort on his part. The door wasn't lock. Neville quietly called Ron. Together, they slowly opened the door. Harry's bedroom was a little bit smaller than theirs. It was simply furnished, almost Spartan.

Ron felt apprehensive. The room might look like Percy's, but Evans shared the same spirit as the twins. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, they stepped through the doorway. Suddenly, paints of different colors splashed down on their heads. For a moment, they stood dumbfounded, dripping with paints.

"I knew it! I knew he was going to do that!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly.

Neville blinked disbelievingly at Ron. "If you knew, then... WHY THE BLOODY HELL DIDN'T YOU SAY SOMETHING?" Neville hollered, breathing hard.

Ron nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't know where it was going to happen." Neville blinked at him again in disbelief. "We best be careful, mate. I think the room is booby-trapped."

Neville raised his hands in exasperation. "You think so? I wonder what gave you that idea?" he asked sarcastically. Ron just warningly glared at him.

They examined everything around the room. They didn't touch anything, though. They learned their lesson. "Neville, look at this..." Ron was pointing at a book lying on a bedside table.

Neville stood at Ron's side and read the title of the book. "Pranks the muggles play by Alotta Lapsiva. That's it. Grab that Ron. We'll take it to Fred and George."

"I'm not touching that," Ron protested loudly. "Why don't you pick it up?"

"Chicken," Neville taunted, smirking. Still, he gingerly picked up the book. When nothing happened, he cockily said, "See, it's harmless. You're getting paranoid in your old age Ron. If you don't watch it, you'll turn into another Mad Eye Moody. Here, catch." He casually tossed the book to Ron who instinctively caught it. A parchment fell out when the book was still flying through the air.

Neville picked it up. He noticed some writings on the parchment and read it. "It says, 'Note to self. Don't forget to do the prank on page one hundred twenty seven'." Neville stood closer to Ron. "Turn the page to one hundred twenty seven. Let's see what the prank is."

As soon as Ron opened the book on said page, there was an explosion of white light and black smoke. When the air cleared, they turned to look at each other again, and blinked in surprise. Their multi-color covered faces were now ink black. Their hairs were sticking out in all directions with a few areas showing bald spots. Smoke was curling up into the air from their burnt hairs.

"I had a funny feeling that might happen," Ron said ponderingly. Neville looked at him again in disbelief. As much as he hated to do it, Neville soundly cuffed Ron in the head.

"What was that for?" Ron grumblingly asked, rubbing the smarting side of his head.

"That is for being stupid." Neville answered disparagingly. "If you know or feel something funny is about to happen, you tell me. Okay?" Ron nodded grudgingly. "What do you say we leave right now? I think I had enough prank for one day, don't you?" Ron readily agreed. He quickly walked towards the door and opened it.

Neville was about to follow when he spotted a parchment sticking out underneath a pillow. "Ron, wait a minute." With the door half-way open, Ron inquiringly looked back at him. Neville walked near the bed and pulled out the parchment. It wasn't just a parchment. It was a letter. And, it's addressed to Severus Snape.


Meanwhile, back at Ginny and Hermione's room, the witches were discussing the sorry state of Diagon Alley. As much as they wanted to deny it, they knew the Second Wizarding War was finally at hand. One topic they didn't want to discuss was the disappearances of several witches and wizards. It touched a raw nerve on Susan.

"Do you think we should cheer up Neville and Ron?" Hermione asked tentatively. "They did leave in a bad mood."

"Don't worry about those two, Hermione. They'll get over it," Ginny said confidently. "They just need a little bit more time to grow up. That's all." The girls all grinned at the idea.

"Still... Wait here. I'll go check on them." Hermione stood up and left the room.

The others looked at each other. "We might as well go with her. We don't have anything better to do, anyway," Susan said resignedly. As one, they stood up and leisurely followed Hermione. They caught up with her in front of Neville and Ron's bedroom. She was looking inside.

"They're not in their room," she said puzzled. "Where could they..." A loud noise, much like an exploding Dung Bomb, echoed throughout the house.

"It came from upstairs," Ginny quickly observed.

"If I'm to hazard a guess, I think it's those two," Hermione said displeased. Then, she gave a long suffering sigh. "Let's go see what they did now." With Hermione walking ahead, they climbed upstairs to the third floor. They stood in the hallway for a moment deciding which room to check first.

Luna noticed one door slightly ajar. "I think we should start on that one." It was Harry's bedroom door.