Chapter 5 : I'm Good to go, and I'm Going Nowhere Fast
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I'm good to go
And I'm going nowhere fast
It could be worse
It could be taking you there with me
I'm good to go
But it looks like I'm still on my own
-Fall Out Boy
“What’s up, Potter?”
The year was nineteen-ninety-five. The month was September. The day was the first. And I was a Fifth year.
Things were far different than they were four years previous. Things between Potter and I were okay - partially because he’d wizened up and stopped being such a pussy, and partially because my Dad told me to stop being a jealous little bitch.
You know – a little bit of each.
“Nothing you haven’t read about in the paper,” he droned, before frowning, nodding goodbye and walking off the train with Ron and Hermione.
. . . Just because he was done being a pussy didn’t mean he was done being a drama queen.
“Harry still all upset about everyone hating him?”
And then there was Will. He was a success story. Technically, he was Remus’ success story. Remus (very much through the influence of Dumbledore) was hired at St. Mungo’s as a Physiological healer. And his first goal was to find out what made Will the paranoid freak that he was.
After Will’s rough first year (consisting of fights with his friends, arguments with his teachers, and all around badness) Remus discovered a Muggle condition called Generalized Anxiety Disorder. That, coupled with Will’s naturally paranoid personality, made a bad combo.
But Remus saved the day, and Will became a surprisingly good friend after the desire to hang him up on the back of doors went away.
I mean, of course Will isn’t a perfectly normal human being (after all, I am the only one who is,) but you can’t heal everything.
Will shrugged. “What can you do?”
We started walking towards the horseless carriages when Lupin yelled from behind us. “Al! Will! Wait up!”
And Lupin was the same, slightly schizoid self that she was since she was three. Only now she was taller. So tall, in fact, that she was almost as tall as Will. (Who, admittedly was short for someone who came from half my Dad.)
She was only thirteen but she could have easily passed for someone in my year. Actually, all of us Black spawn looked like we could be older – apparently, that was quite helpful when traipsing around the Muggle world and looking for something to do . . . Me, Seamus and Dean found that out about a week before school started again.
“I’m sitting with you guys,” she said, tossing her dark blond hair (the color that Will’s hair was before he died it black) over her shoulder and hopping into the carriage before Will and I did. “Me and Catherine had a fight.”
Catherine was Connie and Darren’s oldest kid . . . I was eagerly awaiting for her to be a Fourth year . . . Then it would be acceptable to officially put her on my “To Do” list.
One year to go . . .
“I love how we’re your last resort,” Will joked.
I scoffed. “Yeah, seriously! Why don’t you get out?”
“You’re annoying!” I taunted.
Lupin just rolled her eyes and placed her bag by her feet. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly ‘oh-so-mature’ now, you sure act like a five-year old.”
“Hey! I never said I was mature . . . Just old,” I corrected.
“My mistake.” Another eye roll.
“Oh, will the both of you shut it? Clearly, I’m the mature one here,” Will said, inserting himself into the mild argument.
Lupin and I were silenced; Will was definitely speaking the truth.
“Ah, sibling bonding.” I smiled at my little siblings. The carriage was just about to take off before Seamus and Dean hopped on.
“Where’d you get off to mate?” Seamus cried. He and Dean were both out of breath.
“I just went to visit an old friend,” I commented nonchalantly, trying to spare Lupin’s innocent mind from the corrupting things that I did. However much I tortured her, I was still her big brother, and it was my job to protect her from all the things I enjoyed so much.
“An old friend, huh?” Seamus winked.
“Yes. An old friend.” I winked back.
There was a silence in the carriage. Dean, Seamus and I were all looking at each other, winking in our minds, and snickering softly to ourselves.
“Oh, for Godric’s sake!” Lupin cried. “You shagged some girl! I get it! You don’t have to sugar-coat it for me!”
And then the whole super-sneaky sex life ordeal didn’t seem as cool.
Seamus started laughing at the whole awkward situation. I made a face at him and half-jokingly said, “Hey, what are you even doing here anyway? I thought your Mum wasn’t letting you come back?”
That took the smile right off Seamus’ face. Bad idea, perhaps, as he was still a bit sensitive to that issue.
“Bloody Potter and his Cedric-Diggory-was-killed-by-You-Know-Who episode made my Mum worried about him and Dumbledore.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, will you get over it? You’re here now. And it’s not like we all didn’t already have our assumptions about his sanity.” I rolled my eyes and tried to recline in the stiff seats.
“I thought you and him were cool now?” Dean questioned reluctantly.
“We are,” I assured him. “That doesn’t mean I can’t keep my assumptions about him and that he can’t keep his about me.”
Dean shrugged. “Fair enough.”
Awkward silence ensued. Whenever awkward silences happened, Will began to incessantly tap his foot. He supposed it was something that he could control, but it had just always happened and he saw no real reason to change that.
“Will!” shouted Lupin, finally. “Will you cut that out?”
The tapping sound always drove Lupin wild. Dean and Seamus – who had grown to pretty much live at our house over the past few years new exactly what kind of UFC cage fight would ensue between the two – and Dean was at least kind enough to get in the middle and break it up.
“Hey! Guys, look! We’re almost there!” We all rushed to the window and looked out, smiling.
Perhaps it was because we were simply a very excitable bunch, but we got to relive the excitement of First year every time the carriages pulled up near the castle. (Except without the boats and all.)
“I love this place.” There was a general consensus among us. “Remember First year, when we were all such young and innocent people?”
“I’m still innocent,” Lupin insisted. And as far as we all knew, she was. But Dad told me that her games were all part of a trap that girls lead you into to make you think they’re little angels. And that I had to watch out for any and all boys that attached themselves to her.
“Let us all have a moment of silence,” Will said. We fell silent in respect for the exciting new year at Hogwarts. I wasn’t sure what the others did during their moments of silence, but I always made a point to envision the coming year.
“To Hogwarts!” I shouted.
“Hey, Black!” It was the first day of classes and I was nothing short of miserable. Due to my lovely genetics, I had trouble waking up in the mornings
Perhaps it wasn’t fair that I blamed all of my shortcomings on bad genetics, but it made me feel better about myself. Of course, the strikingly good looks, Quidditch talent, and sparkling personality could also be attributed to my genetics.
“Al! Quidditch try-outs next Mon– Al, tell me that’s not your skirt?”
I looked down . . . I told you I had trouble waking up in the mornings.
“Fuuuuuck.” I dragged my tired arse up off the bench and slumped slowly back up to the dorm so that I could take off this skirt (which had come from some undisclosed location and person) and put on a pair of my own pants.
I walked into Charms five minutes late, but at least I didn’t walk in with my skirt on.
“Mr. Black? Must we start the year off like this?”
Flitwick sighed and went back to his lecture on the O.W.L.’s. I already knew I would amount to nothing in life, and my brilliance lie in my wit and my broom. (Okay, the wit was debatable . . .)
“Is your arseholishness nature or nurture?” I sat down next to Lavender – my best girl friend, but not my actual girlfriend since second year when I decided I wanted to try something new and she didn’t – and she immediately attacked me.
“A bit of both.”
“How about a lot of both?”
I smirked. “Don’t be hatin’.”
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. First class of the day was always used for sleeping. There was no reason this year would be any exception. However, about five minutes into my semi-doze, Lavender roughed me up about the shoulder area.
“What?” I groaned, opening my eyes only enough to glare a her.
“I think you have an, er, admirer.”
I sat up quickly and excitedly followed Lavender’s gaze across the room. The girl in questioned was not a Hot Girl.
In fact, she was an Unhot Girl. She was quite a few stone overweight (not drastically, but certainly enough to knock some points off of her attractiveness.) She was spotted with acne, probably due in part to the greasiness of her skin. Her brown hair – not light of dark, simply bland – was greasy as well. In all, she carried the look of an un-showered person who ate too much. I’d never gotten close enough to smell her, though, so I couldn’t prove anything.
The irony of the situation was that her sister was the hottest Sixth year in school, and I had already tapped that arse.
My eye drifted away after I cringed and I began to fantasize about Hot Girls.
“Lavender,” I hissed a while later. “We’ve got to find a party to hit up later on!”
She shook her head. “You don’t want to consider studying or doing something productive?”
I let a moment of silence go by to mourn Lavender’s silly comment. Then I scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Everyone knows that Hogwarts is not for learning; it’s for raging alcoholic parties that never get broken up by the teachers, hot hookups with your worst enemies, and sneaking around the castle and never getting caught. Duh!”
And anyone who was anyone made sure that held true.
“Will, I swear to God if you don’t tell me where you’re taking me-”
“Shut up! It’s a surprise!”
Will was edging me towards the obscure end of Hogsmeade (near the terribly rundown and decrepit Hogshead Inn.) Had I really wanted to not go, him and his scrawny little boy arms couldn’t have gotten me there, but I was humoring him . . . For how long, I could not say.
“And by a ‘surprise’ you mean something you know I won’t want to do so you won’t tell me.”
“Yeah, a little bit . . . Okay, come on.”
I finally zoned in on my surroundings to see the lovely aforementioned Hogshead.
Finally, Will pulled me roughly into the pub.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!”
“You’re going to do something useful with your life for once, you worthless pile of crap.” Will was just teasing; ‘worthless pile of crap’ was his affectionate nick name for me.
He shoved me around the corner, and taking up quite a few tables was Potter, his two faithful lackeys, and a group of other kids.
“Will, where have you brought me?”
He sighed and continued pushing me. Potter and I were peaceable, but any cause he was rallying was likely to be one I was not interested in. (For example, something chivalrous.)
I pointed this out to Will.
“Bloody hell, I don’t know how the sorting hat thought it would be a good idea to put you in Gryffindor. You’re about as self-centered as a Slytherin!”
“Hey, watch it! I hate those slimy fucks!”
“And you talk like one, too.”
I shoved Will. He deserved it.
Then, he pulled out that bloody wand and did some spell he must have learned from actually studying, keeping me tied down to the chair by invisible bands. So, for God knows how long, I sat in that bloody chair listening to Potter’s friends make him sound like a bloody Saint, all the while Potter stumbled and mumbled, trying to humble himself.
And I was reminded of why I never liked him in the first place. However, I tried to keep the bad thoughts away. Being friendly with Potter was good. He couldn’t help it if he was a fame-hating dweeb.
It was a little while into the whole spiel that I realized why Will had brought me here; Harry was starting up a study ground, wherein he would be the teacher and I would be the student. I didn’t care how far along Harry and I had come since I wanted to beat him up first year – I could not deal with Potter being my superior.
Potter’s cause (to purposely defy that bloody horrible, bitchy new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher) was a noble one, but really! Was I supposed to decide between letting Potter be above me or letting Umbridge do her thing when we all knew she’d be gone in a year anyway, as per the curse?
Will had since lifted the binds on me and I got up to walk out without signing the sheet. I saw Potter glance at me, but he said nothing.
“Aldan!” Will called out.
I turned around and rolled my eyes at my stupid, annoying little brother. “What do you want?”
“Don’t walk away!”
“And why not?” I asked. Of course Will would have no problem submitting to Potter. But he never really had a problem with submitting to anyone
“Because it’s not what Mum and Dad would have done!”
And why does he think what Mum and Dad did at Hogwarts would effect my decision to walk the hell away from Potter?
“Why does that matter?”
“Because they were pretty damn cool when they went to Hogwarts! In fact, Dad said you’re almost exactly like Mum was!”
“And that still does not explain why that effects me,” I pointed out.
Will shrugged. “It really doesn’t, I guess. All I’m saying is that Mum and Dad knew how to be cool and have fun, but it didn’t stop them from doing something when it was right! Umbridge is annoying as hell, but she’s also oppressive! By doing this thing, we’re doing something more than just ignoring an annoying teacher. We’re sticking it to the man!
“Come on, Al. Give it a chance.”
Even though the pub was pretty noisy, it felt silent in the conversation I was having with my little brother. Like it always does in those sort of dramatic moments.
I groaned and stomped over to the table where Potter had that bloody enchanted piece of parchment, cut straight in front of the twat Zacharias Smith and signed my elaborate signature. (It was pretty.)
“Just because I signed up to be part of this doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to you,” I warned Potter.
He just smirked and raised his eyebrows. “Okay.”
Then, I turned away and stormed out of the dirty pub. I could see Will jumping up and down and clapping. What a pansy.
The year went quite swimmingly, if I do say so myself. I taunted Umbridge to the point of almost tears at one point. I don’t think she was quite used to someone not shutting up despite having accumulated a months worth of daily detention within five minutes.
McGonagall winked at me and told me that I got that from my Mum. I reminded myself to ask her about that when I got home.
She did however question how I got quite so many detentions. Even Harry (who Umbridge had an intense hatred for) didn’t get that many. “Black, tell my how you managed to do that?"
I sat leaning back in one of the chairs in her office. I shrugged. “Actually I don’t quite remember. I’m pretty sure it started when I began to talk to Dean about kitties and dynamite, and it just kind of took off from there.”
“So . . . You managed to get a months worth of detentions – including weekends – in five minutes by talking about kittens and dynamite.”
I nodded. “I also began to sing ‘Like a Virgin.’ You know that Madonna song? ‘Like a virgin, touched for the very first time. Like a virg-”
“Yes, Mr. Black. I’m aware of the song.”
I sighed and thought about the month of detentions and how totally and completely worth it it was. Still, that didn’t mean I wanted them . . . “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do about them.”
“Nothing, Mr. Potter. I am sorry.” Minnie looked around her office suspiciously, as if expecting someone to be listening. “However, off the records, I would very much like to help you out. I’ll see if I can’t convince your beloved Professor to let me oversee some of those, though I doubt she’ll relinquish that death-grip control over this school that she has.”
Minnie looked contemplative, so I decided that I would get going. Then, I thought struck me. “If your name is McGonagall, how come we all call you Minnie? Wouldn’t you be Mickey? Like McGonagall?”
“Go study something.”
Will and I were growing to be better friends, despite the fact that he was a bit odd and decided to go all emo and crap. . . But he was my little brother, and I did a pretty damn good job watching out for him.
Even though the stupid little fruit didn’t watch out for me. His instance that I join the stupid little Dumbledore’s Army ended in what appeared to be a very embarrassing incident for me. (Though it wasn’t actually, because it didn’t happen like everyone perceived it.)
It was one day in mid-March. It was just your average DA meeting. Things were going swimmingly (and I was chatting up the absolutely gorgeous Ginny Weasley, as I always took some time to do at those meetings) until Harry decided that we needed to work against a partner.
“Aldan, let’s see what you’ve got.” Although I was absolutely rubbish in my classes (my highest grade was an ‘A’, though Professor Flitwick was considering squeaking me by with an ‘E’,) I had this defense spell-casting stuff down really well. So well, in fact, that the great Harry Potter deemed me a plausible opponent.
“We’re just doing a simple little duel,” he informed me.
“Okay.” I shrugged.
A third person came over to us to give us the count. “On your marks . . . Go!”
I pulled back my wand, ready to strike and yell, ‘Stupefy!’ but as I looked at my opponent and saw Harry in the same position, my brain froze. I can’t tell you how, and I can’t tell you why (although I’m positive it was an invisible force that didn’t want me to embarrass Potter) but the next thing I knew my wand flew out of my hands and across to Harry’s.
Must. Not. Let. Potter. Win.
I started forwards towards him, ready to bring a little Muggle-wrestling into the mix in order to get my wand back. I saw a red light shoot past me and miss me by a quarter of an centimetre.
I leapt into the air, reaching our for my wand that was held so loosely in my hand and then . . .
Will was standing over me, looking down with concern. “What do you want, you twat?”
He scoffed. “Well, I was going to help you up but you can do that on your own.”
I groaned at the spasm my back made in its effort to get the rest of me up. “What happened?” I glanced across the room to see Harry and his blank expression.
“You and Harry had a duel . . . He knocked you out.”
I scoffed. “I knew that! Because I let him!”
“Then why did you ask me?” Will raised a tricky little eyebrow at me.
“Just testing you,” I replied, clambering to my feet and looking across at Harry. His face was mostly blank, but he had the slightest little smirk; I could tell, I was the master of smirks.
“I let you win, you know,” I mentioned indifferently.
The smirk on Harry’s face grew three sizes, that day. “I know,” he said, in a way that made me think he didn’t know at all!
Most of the D.A. was minding their own business; someone landing flat on their back was a daily occurrence here.
Aldan, don’t do this! Don’t make a scene!
Although it rarely reared its ugly head, my brain did have a small part reserved for thinking sensibly and not making a fool out of itself.
If you make a big scene, everyone will watch.
But Potter’s a tart-face! I want to hit him!
Don’t do it, Al!
“Good, as long as we’re clear on that,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and nodding my head definitively. “I don’t need any help.”
Potter nodded. “Don’t worry, we are.” Smirk. Bigger smirk. Biggest possible smirk.
“Grrr!” I couldn’t take it anymore, and growled as I sped across the room and leapt into the air and onto Harry, as I had planned earlier during our little practice duel. However, once I had knocked him to the ground, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to actually hurt him, I just wanted to knock him to the ground and show him who was boss.
So, I stood up, brushed myself off and stormed out of the Room of Requirement, never to return to another D.A. meeting.
Thanks a lot, Will.
Despite the fact that the Weasley twins were friends with Potter, they didn’t seem to take a disliking to me after the incident like Ron and Hermione did. Not that I talked to those two often, but they made a point to avoid me, it seemed.
Potter didn’t, though. In fact, he seemed to confront me every chance he got. Seemed to think that it embarrassed me or something. Clearly he was unaware that embarrassment was not a trait that I posessed.
Anyway, as I was saying. Umbridge – the rancid bitch that she was – soon decided that he reign of terror over Hogwarts was not making us miserable enough. Cue the inquisitorial squad. If there were such things, ever member of that band of merry men would win a Tool Award.
Anyway, as I was saying. The Inquisitorial Squad were pretentious bastards just like the prefects. Except some dumbarse Head lady gave them the power to deduct points.
Why would anyone ever do that? Give a bunch of powers to stupid Slytherins? Only if they were evil . . .
Anyway, as I was saying. I was moseying down a corridor on the first day of their reign, trying to find one of those little pansies and get myself in trouble when I saw the Weasley twins stuffing something into one of the vases. I was about to call out to them when Montague – a big brute of a brainless ninny – walked over to them and shouted, “Ten points from Gryffindor.”
The twins simply smiled big. George nodded while Fred pulled out his wand, and before Montague knew what was happening his arms were bound behind him and the twins were dragging him away, kicking and screaming.
Now, Fred and George were both fairly strong kids, but Montague could have eaten the entire of Hogwarts for breakfast. They were struggling to keep him under control.
Naturally, I had to come to the rescue. “Guys! Need some help?”
“Get over here, good boy!”
I sped across the corridor and walked backwards, facing the twins as they continued to drag the struggling thug. “Where are you taking this one?”
Simultaneously, they replied, “The Vanishing Cabinet.”
Upon hearing this, Montague began to fight harder. “Just be there in case he escapes,” Fred advised. “And we’ll surely need your help to get this fat lug into the cabinet.”
The Room of Requirement was just around the corner. I sped ahead to open it up.
I need the Vanishing Cabinet. I need the Vanishing Cabinet. I need the Vanishing Cabinet.
A door popped onto the wall and I held it open as the twins dragged Montague in.
“Alright, Al. Grab his legs.” I rushed over and grabbed the dangerous, kicking legs. He aimed a couple of kicks at the family jewels, but I protected though babies well. I needed to carry on the family name (and I couldn’t chance it up to Will, as often thought he was two grapes short of a fruit salad.)
With a rather violent thrust (he was a Slytherin that tried to take points away from the valiant, brave and chivalrous Gryffindor hour – he deserved it) I sent his legs into the large cabinet, and the twins shoved his upper half in after it. In the blink of an eye, Montague was gone, and Fred, George and I left to go have lunch with smiles on our faces.
And, as a big brother, Lupin was my responsibility to watch over. Sher was much harder to watch out for that Will, who pretty much never did anything fun with his life. She seemed to love doing troublesome things, but hated getting in trouble. So she was super sneaky and never got caught. I could never catch her, so I never knew what sorts of things she was doing that I didn’t know about. And not all troublesome things are good when it comes to your fourteen-year-old little sister.
But I soon found out. It was one day in early June; Lee Jordan and I were strolling about the grounds, writing a letter to Fred and George (who had made an epic depart from Hogwarts two months earlier) and looking for something troublesome to do – some way to cause Umbridge more stress. (That rancid bitch just kept adding more educational decrees and had run Dumbledore out of the castle at that point.)
I heard a shaking coming from one of the trees above, and girlish giggling. (Obviously, I had to investigate on the slight chance it was a Hot Girl.)
Unfortunately for me, it was just my sister. She was jumping around on the branches all alone.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, sticking my head up into the leaves.
“Looking for a bird to put in Umbridge’s desk.”
I shrugged. It was good enough for me.
O.W.L.s were a nightmare. I committed an epic fail. Hopefully, I had scraped at least an A in some of them so I could not fail out of Hogwarts. But Potions was definitely out. No way I got the required ‘O’ in that one . . . And I didn’t mind; Snape was a slimy git.
Then, of course, Potter had his yearly attention fit. It was during the History of Magic Exam. The lucky bastard didn’t even have to finish the exam.
The year then ended with Potter and his posse sneaking off to the Department of Mysteries and fighting the Death Eaters that were back because Voldemort returned.
It was a typical year . . . But I guess that’s what happens when you go to Hogwarts.
A/N: As a few of you already know, and others of you have probably guessed, Versicolor and this series will not be soaring to the heights that I had originally planned. L I could never ever abandon this story, however, and there will be a few chapters after this to round the story and its plot holes out. Hopefully they are amusing as well as fulfilling.
To not be able to finish this story is killing me, but I know that I could never make it up to par when my heart is not in it like it used to be. Technicolor (to be the second sequel) will also not be written. However, I hope to be able to post a ‘Lost Chapters’ story, consisting of all the chapters that were already written but never able to be used. This is dependent on whether or not I can fix the USB that held all of these chapters. (It will no longer spit the documents back onto my computer and comes up with a ‘Malfunctioning’ box instead. I nearly had a heart attack when that happened.)
This will be the first of five chapters to end the series. Let me tell you guys, when I first toyed with the idea of discontinuing, it killed me, but over time I knew it was what I had to do.
I feel that after four months (about four months?) you guys deserve a better chapter than this, but let me tell you all the sweat and work that went into this chapter. A lot.
If you have any questions about
A/N2: And let me just give the biggest shout-out in the world to Tara.Seanan, who helped me so much, not only with this chapter, but with the big decisions I had to make about bringing this nearly two-year series to an end if a proper and fulfilling way.
A/N3: On a much happier note than the previous A/N, anyone with a couple hours of free time should go to YouTube and check out StarKidPotter’s ‘A Very Potter Musical.’ And if you have further time after that, check out their other play ‘Me and My Dick’ and their web series ‘Little White Lie.’ All is fricken awesome!
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