The Goo Squad

Chapter One

"I don't know," said Hermione, bewildered. The entire room fell silent, except for Professor Flitwick. He gave a gasp of horror that knocked him off his stack of books and onto the floor. "I don't know, Professor Flitwick." Hermione? Hermione? The class moved quickly from silence to excited buzzing. Hermione!

Professor Flitwick kept Hermione after class to ask why she was slacking. Harry and Ron listened at the door.

"Miss Granger, that was a very simple question! I'm shocked!"

"I'm sorry, Professor. I'll do the homework next time, I guess."

Flitwick was sounding more shocked by the second. He squeaked in dismay as he heard words he had never dreamed of hearing from Hermione. His voice was flustered as he tried to cover his concern. "Well, make sure you do! After 5 years, Miss Granger, and 65 OWLS, you can't slack off now! Not with NEWTS coming up next year!"

Hermione shrugged and walked out, completely ignoring Ron and making a nasty face at Harry. He stared after her. "What's got into Hermione?" he turned to ask Ron, but Ron wasn't there. Had he been there in the first place? Harry wondered. Everything was so confusing...his scar hurt...he wanted to go back up to his dormitory and lie down....

"Harry? Harry, get up!" said Ron, shaking him.

Harry groaned. "Five more minutes, Aunt Petunia," he muttered, and as he forgot that he was at Hogwarts, the fragments of his dream slipped away from him.

Ron shook him harder. "It's me, Ron, you nutter."

"Oh," said Harry, sitting up.

"Besides, you shouldn't talk to your aunt like that," said Seamus self-righteously.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry mumbled, lying down and rolling over again.

Dean Thomas appeared with a large pail of water. "Muggles have good ideas too, sometimes, Ron," he announced, and dumped the pail over Harry's head.

Harry screamed.

Before long, Dean was screaming too, and the dream was entirely driven out of Harry's mind. As you can probably tell, he hadn't been practicing Occlumency for a long time...

Millicent Bulstrode smiled as she pulled one bushy hair from a small vial. It had been on Hermione's robes the day of the Dueling Club in second year. She fondly remembered how she had left Hermione a cat hair, and the consequences. Well, this would go off better. She dropped the hair unceremoniously into a disgusting potion, and downed it. A minute later, Hermione Granger (aka Millicent Bulstrode) and Hermione Granger (aka Know It All) stood face to face in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. To help clarify the speakers, your fantastic and inspired author will now revert to a screenplay for a bit.

Fake Hermione: Oops.

Real Hermione: What?

Fake Hermione: Oops! Are you deaf? I mean, am I deaf?

Real Hermione: Polyjuice Potion!

Ok, back to normal form. Real Hermione began to scream, but it was cut short. "Petrificus Totalus," Fake Hermione yawned, and Real Hermione fell to the floor, horror in her eyes.

Fake Hermione locomoted Really Petrified Hermione to the Slytherin girl's dormitories. She then proceeded to bind and gag her, just in case, and shoved her in Pansy Parkinson's trunk. Pansy wouldn't notice; there were already a lot of Muggle bodies in there. Pansy got a little high sometimes. Smiling with an almost maniacal pleasure, Fake Hermione (referred to as simply Hermione from now on) left the dungeons.

Ron wasn't quite the sharpest tool in the shed. So when Hermione--Hermione!--told him she had forgotten the way to the common room, he didn't notice anything wrong.

"The Fat Lady, remember? And the password is Snuggly Bunny."

"Snuggly Bunny? By Bacon Man?" Hermione gasped. "Draco writes those!"

"You mean Malfoy? Since when do you call him Draco?" Ron asked idly, then his eyes bulged. "Oh, doxie breath! Those are my very favorite books! Do you think he'd give me his autograph? I knew, I just knew he couldn't be all evil! Bye, Hermione!" He raced off.

"Well, now I know the way to the dormitory," muttered Hermione. Harry looked at her. He wasn't as thick as Ron. He knew something was up.

"Didn't you know the way before? You are a prefect!" Well, maybe he was pretty thick after all. Hermione (who's really Millicent Bulstrode, remember) had to think fast.

"I'm trying to get a scene for my book," she told him. "A sixth year student suddenly develops amnesia, and can't remember anything."

Fortunately, Harry swallowed that. But then again, he wasn't feeling too well. "My scar hurts," he moaned. "I feel the presence of the Dark Lord growing nearer!"

"Go to the hospital wing," Hermione suggested, bored with the conversation.

"No," Harry mumbled. "I have too much to do, we just got back...but it hurts, I want to go lie down...I know I can't do anything like this...I think Voldemort might be a little mad."

Hermione didn't consider this worth a response, so she quickened her pace and left Harry clutching his forehead and surreptitiously watching Cho Chang being kissed by Michael Corner. He wished he didn't have that essay to do for McGonagall on the Animagus Rissian the Rhinocerous. He wanted to be far away, on a beach in Cancun where they had never heard of Lord Voldemort (or Snored Moldy Wart, as Ron sometimes called him to make him seem less intimidating.) But while he was dwelling on this pleasant thought, an announcement rang through the halls, which he now realized were deserted. He was late for Divination. Oh, well, who cared about bloody smoke signals anyway? But then, he realized that an announcement rang through the halls. He listened to the voice of Professor Dumbledore.

"All students report to their House Common Rooms immediately. Teachers report to my office. Students remain in your Common Rooms until further notice from either myself or my very wise old friend Mother Nature." Harry pondered this for a minute before realizing he should probably do what he was asked. He returned to Gryffindor Tower, but decided to burrow under his covers, clutching his own plushie Snuggly Bunny, courtesy of Bacon ManTM. He would ask Ron what it was all about later.

Ron was only paying half his attention to Professor McGonagall as she gave the grim message. The rest of his attention was focused on how many red candies he could stuff in his mouth at once. Sadly enough for him, they were made by Fred and George. Puking Pastilles. He spent the rest of his attention frantically searching for the purple halves, and trying not to get any vomit on his homework. Of course, the homework was worthless, being completely wrong, but that's beside the point.

He had to run off to the hospital wing, which he wasn't supposed to do, as he had not been given permission to leave the Tower, but he got away with it for being both a prefect and a Quidditch Hero. So it was a while before he could try and recall Professor McGonagall's message.

The exact message had been: "Millicent Bulstrode, 6^th year student, has somehow disappeared. It is likely that You-Know-Who was behind it. Stay calm, everyone, and stay in groups. We teachers will protect you, since it is our job, but unless they raise my salary I'm retiring next year."

Ron heard "Millicent Bulstrode, 6^th year student, has now 3 ears. It is likely that goo-oh-goo was behind it. Stay calm, everyone, and stay snoops. We teachers will protect you from Old Hob, but unless I graze with Mallory I'm retiring next year." So when he got back to the dormitory, he and Harry tried painstakingly to analyze this.

Ron: Old Hob means that Satan chappie you told me about is trying to infiltrate Hogwarts and create extra ears with goo! Millicent Bulstrode is the first to go! We're all doomed!

Harry: It's too much. I can't take it all. My scar is on fire...Where's Dumbledore? I need Dumbledore!

Ron: We have Quidditch practice in half an hour.

Harry: That was random.

Ron: Well, we do!

Harry: It's probably cancelled because of the ears.

Ron: Say! Do you reckon they were talking about Fred and George's Extendable Ears? Maybe Millie got ahold of one and is spying on top secret meetings of the UK Goo Squad!!!

Harry: You're right! We've got to save them!

Ron noticed Dean and Seamus coming in. "Where's Millicent Bulstrode?" he demanded. "It's urgent, really important for the Goo Squad!

Seamus gave him a funny look. "Weren't you listening, mate? She's disappeared."

Ron gasped loudly. "She escaped with the top secret information, Harry! The plot thickens! The Goo Squad is as good as finished!"

Harry thought on this for a moment. "Ron, who is she selling her information to?"

Ron scowled. "Draco Malfoy. Hermione said he wrote the Fluffy Bunny books and he denied it. He's trying to confuse us...he wants to invent a new goo to make his lousy stories sell better and he stole important plans...if he comes out with them first then the future of the Goo Squad is being sued for plague!"

"Plagiarism?" Dean suggested, looking confused.

"That's the animal!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly.

"No, actually, it's a word." Harry pointed out.

"Harry, shut up. I'm on your side."

"Oh."

"Now, the way I see it, Mallory is code for Bacon Man, which is pen name for Draco Malfoy, which is a civil way of saying dragon dung, which, as we all know, originates off the coast of Mallory."

"No it doesn't!" said Neville. "Only one plant, the Woven Basket-Eater, grows on Mallory. Besides, dragon dung is dung, not a plant."

"Am I telling the story or are you?" Ron asked angrily. Neville shut up. "Now, that means McGonagall is going to graze with Malfoy...maybe a bullet will graze his ear as he buys the plans from Millie, presuming she isn't already dead by his bloody bloodstained hands."

"Can I make up the next part?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "Sure, I was running out of ideas."

"The bullet will be shot by none other than our dear Professor McGonagall, who is secretly in league--no, wait, she is the secret president of the Goo Squad," Harry announced authoritatively.

"Harry!" Ron gasped. "Every year, you get into some big thingy about saving the world! This is it! You'll save the Goo Squad, get Malfoy expelled, and win the Order of Merlin!"

Harry thought on this carefully. "You said that about the Sorcerer's Stone, Tom Riddle, Peter Pettigrew, Snored Moldy Wart, and even Snored Moldy Wart again the next year, and I've never gotten the Order of Merlin once!"

This dawned on Ron. "Yeah. You should've gotten the Order of the Phoenix last year at least!"

"Ron, that's not an award, that's a society, you idiot," Neville pointed out.

"Who you calling idiot, idiot?" Ron and Neville engaged in a furious battle of flicking fruit fly carcasses at each other. Harry stopped them.

"We were supposedly discussing my award!"

"Oh, yeah, well, what could possibly be more important than saving the Goo Squad?" Ron asked. "You'll get 0^th class, I bet. One up from Dumbledore!"

As Ron started adding beetle eyes to the fruit flies, Harry dreamed of glory. "The world shall know me as a hero once again!"

Professor Dumbledore smiled at the students he had called upon to help him. "I have received information about the whereabouts of Millicent Bulstrode from a very reliable source," he announced. "Rather than being taken by Lord Voldemort, it is believed that she is being held hostage for secret information about a certain UK Goo Squad that the anonymous Bacon Man wants."

The students all began discussing what this could be in loud voices. Malfoy, querying the identity of Bacon Man, was the loudest. Harry and Ron, however, simply looked smug. Hermione Granger was the most surprised.

When did I spy on any Goo Squad? She wondered. And why would Draco care? And who is this reliable source? I don't get it!

You must not forget, of course, that Hermione is really Millicent Bulstrode. She has taken Hermione's place for a devious and deceitful plan. Though Harry and Ron did not know it, this plan had nothing to do with any Goo Squad, real or imaginary. It was a plot to take over control of Harry and Ron, and deliver them to none other than Snored Moldy Wart himself. But that would only happen if she could pass her classes...

Bacon Man typed furiously at a computer registered to Mr. Draco Malfoy, at work on his newest book: Snuggly Bunny and the New Cat. It had been due for revisions a week ago...the publishers were going wild...A muffled noise reached his ears. He quickly saved his work and hurried down to the Slytherin common room. Yes, it was louder now...coming from the girl's dormitory...he sighed and put on a stuffed bra and long wig he saved just for occasions such as these. He entered the dormitories with no trouble, and decided that it was a cry for help, through a gag, probably. Where was it coming from? Ah, yes, the trunk of Miss Pansy Parkinson. Could it be that she had allowed one of her...toys...to live, in hopes of future amusement? He opened the lid cautiously. Bodies, bodies, everywhere, and not a one can speak...he flipped through the carcasses, and then spotted one he recognized...

"Granger..." She was under Petrificus Totalus, yet it was slowly wearing off, and she was alive. He smiled and put the Imperious Curse on her, then lifted her body binding.

"Follow me." She obeyed.

He led her back to where his computer screen dimly glowed, and instructed her to critique his work...under his direction, of course. As she told him how intelligent and original he was, he decided to keep her for himself...a kind critic is hard to pass up...

"Oh, Draaaaaaaaacoooooooo!" a soft voice cooed. Draco threw one of his Invisibility Cloaks over Hermione (the Real Hermione, under the Imperious Curse, you understand) as Pansy Parkinson came into the room. "Draaaaco, honey, kiss me, I broke a nail."

Draco quickly turned off his computer so no one could see what he was working on. "Mollusks and mansions, Patsy, NEVER BOTHER ME WHEN I'M WORKING!"

"But, Draaaaacooo, I broke a nail! And it's Pansy...you PROMISED to remember, remember?"

"No! Now shut up! And can I borrow something?"

"For a kiiiiiiiiiiiissssssssssyyyyyyyyykiiiiiiiiisssssssss," she bargained.

"Oh, fine!" He blew her a kiss.

"Now fix my nail!"

"Leave me alone, Polly!"

"If you fix my nail, Dracoooooo."

"Fine." He waved his wand and repaired her 3-inch manicured pomegranate nails. "Now, get out of here, I'm busy."

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the computer.

"It's a computer. A Muggle device that...oh, no. Uh-oh. Um, um, um,"

Pansy's eyes were wide with shock. "Did you say Muggle, Draco?" she asked, forgetting to sound flirtatious in her horror.

"I, I, I, um--Obliviate!" He waved his wand at her head and narrowly missed hitting it.

"'Tis the season to be jolly, falalalalalalalala!" he heard Pansy warbling offkey as she headed to the Great Hall, convinced she was going to a Yule Ball in September. Draco/Bacon looked at the clock and gasped. He was almost late for Potions! He hurried off, leaving Hermione sitting, brainwashed, under the Invisibility Cloak.

Harry and Ron were shocked when Hermione went over and sat by Gregory Goyle in Potions.

"What's got into Hermione? And who's that troll?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"He goes by Goyle. I think he thinks he's a wizard, and so Dumbledore lets him stay if he manages to pass his classes. I bet he asked her to help him study."

"One hundred points from Hufflepuff for talking in class, Potter," said Snape silkily as he glided by their table.

"But, Professor, I'm not in Hufflepuff, I'm a Gryffindor!" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, so I see. All right then, three hundred from Gryffindor for arguing with me. But the hundred from Hufflepuff still stands, for your friend Weasley."

"You're in Hufflepuff?" Harry asked Ron incredulously.

"Of course. Aren't you?"

"No, I'm in Gryffindor, like I have been for the past six years..."

"You mean Hufflepuff."

"No, I mean Gryffindor."

"Hufflepuff."

"Gryffindor!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Gryffindor!"

"SLYTHERIN!" screamed Draco Malfoy as he raced into Potions class.

"Lovely House spirit, Mr. Malfoy," Snape approved. "Take fifty points to Slytherin, for a positive attitude, and fifty more for supporting your House, and then another fifty for supporting my House, and then another fifty for good measure."

"That's not fair, Professor!" yelled Ron. "You're choosing favorites!"

"I am not, Weasel!" snapped Snape.

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not and fifty points from Hufflepuff!"

"Are too and a hundred points from Slytherin!"

"You can't take points from Slytherin, Weasley. You are a pupil. Go stand in the corner. Here, take this." Snape handed Ron a large pointed hat with DUNCE written on it.

"Professor?" asked Harry curiously.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for not having your hand raised!"

"Fine." Harry raised his hand. "Professor?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"I don't get the bit about Ron being in Hufflepuff."

Snape sighed and took Harry's hand. "I know this will come as a bit of a shock, Potter," he said, and Harry almost felt pity in his voice. "Weasley was announced as a Gryffindor when he was sorted, so as not to embarrass his family, all of whom have been brave, kind, smart Gryffindors. However, the morning after, he received a letter informing him that he was really in Hufflepuff. He was allowed to keep up pretenses so people wouldn't laugh at him. You see, Potter, Weasley is...shall we say...touched. I know it must hurt you to hear this, but your friend is not quite all there."

Harry looked over at Ron, who was staring hungrily at sliced slugs on Lavender Brown's desk. He had been a little off ever since that unfortunate incident in second year...but NO! Ron wasn't an idiot, couldn't be! The evidence floated all around him, yet he refused to accept it.

"You're lying!" he yelled at Snape, and raced out of the dungeon. He heard the voice of his Potions master echoing behind him... "One thousand points from Gryffindor, Potter!"

Harry dashed towards Dumbledore's office, where he frantically guessed at the password. "Lemon drop! Cockroach Cluster! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans!"

The gargoyle refused to move. Harry was sure it was laughing at him.

"Goo Squad!" he guessed in a sudden flash of brilliance. Pouting, the gargoyle moved aside.

"Haha!" Harry laughed at it. "I guessed it, I guessed it!" The gargoyle scowled and moved back into place.

"Goo Squad!" said Harry, and the gargoyle was obliged to open. Harry leaped, but he was not fast enough! He was quickly squashed.

"Mummelmore?" he squeaked. "Melp?"

The gargoyle laughed maniacally.