Crickets

Crickets

It was a Thursday evening, and Ron and Harry were hurrying back from potions. It had been a particularly difficult lesson, in which they had attempted to make a bright pink Speeding Solution, to double the drinker's reflexes for an hour or so after drinking. Hermione's of course, had been perfect, but Harry's had turned out as thick as cement, and Ron's had for some reason turned purple. Neville's however, had definitely turned out worst, for his was electric blue and emitted high-pitched squeaks every few minutes. Rushing up the many twisted staircases, they at last made it to the portrait hole.

"Password?" the fat lady asked, smoothing out a crease in her pink dress.

"Scrambled eggs," Harry said quickly.

The boys stood there for a few moments watching the fat lady, then Ron, loosing his temper quickly out of hunger scowled at her.

"Well open up already, it's the right password!" The fat lady however, was looking concerned.

"I can't swing it open. I unlocked it but it's jammed. I'm afraid you're stuck 'till we can get Mr. Filch over here to sort it out boys. Sorry... Why don't you go and find him now?" Ron looked scandalised.

"No, I'm starving! I just want to put my books away and go to dinner. I am not hunting round the castle for Filch! Come on Harry, we can push it open." Harry, equally hungry, nodded vigorously and leant into the fat lady's portrait.

"Oh really! Just get Mr. Filch, he can sort this out in a heartbeat!" she cried indignantly, but the boys were poised against her to push.

"On three," Harry said. "One, two, three!" And the two boys pushed hard at the portrait, much to the fat lady's anger and indignant protests.

Suddenly, the door gave a gentle click, and swung open violently. The boys fell through in surprise, their bags ripping open and spilling everything they contained. Books flew through the air, and ink wells rolled over the carpet, but worst of all, the left-over potion ingredients emptied out onto the floor, rolling, bouncing and sliding all over the common room. The fat lady shouted.

Untangling themselves from each other, Harry and Ron struggled to their feet, and surveyed the dishevelled common room in despair. Slowly, Ron began to walk forward, careful not to crush the ingredients or mangle his books. He placed his empty, broken bag onto an armchair and turned back towards the portrait hole, looking decisively ahead of him. The fat lady gave up scolding them, and joined Harry in watching Ron curiously. Harry however, quickly realised what was in Ron's mind.

"Ron!" he said sharply. He couldn't just let Ron walk out to dinner and leave the common room like this! They would be found out... No, it had to be sorted straight away.

"But I'm so hungry!" Ron wailed desperately. Harry's face was set though, and Ron knew better than to waste his energy arguing. He swung himself round resignedly.

"Fine!" he muttered furiously. Pulling his wand out of his belt, he held it before him. "Scourgify!" he cried. Everything on the floor quivered half-heartedly, some things rolled around a few inches; others just gave small weak twitches.

Harry was grinning at him, obviously on the verge of laughter, and the fat lady had gone back to telling them off.

"You need to practice your charm work young man, sloppy and careless if ever I saw it. And it wouldn't have even been needed if you two idiots hadn't insisted on shoving like that, stupid and uncalled for - "

" - it's not funny Harry, I want to go and eat, and unless you can do a better Scourgify charm than me, we'll be stuck here all evening clearing this up!"

" - got all that you deserved, pushing me open like that, the nerve of it - "

" - it's just as well your charm didn't work Ron, we're going to need those ingredients, you can't just go and make them disappear with a cleaning charm - "

" - could have done us all serious damage you know, I may have needed weeks of repair, and then what would you have done, eh? No-one guarding your common room, or worse - that Sir Cadogan you got last time - "

"- fine, we'll pick it up, but just be quick, all right? I need food! And will you just SHUT UP?!" Ron yelled, and slammed the portrait shut furiously. All they could hear now were her muffled cries from the other side of the wall.

Sighing, but relieved to be away from the fat lady, Harry knelt and began dragging the books, quills and inkwells into a pile beside him.

"You can get started on the potion stuff Ron," he said pointedly. Ron however, was looking repulsed.

"Oh God, Harry, no!" He was looking around the floor, disgusted, and slowly shrinking back into a wall, treading on a few things that oozed unpleasantly beneath his feet.

"Oh come on Ron, it's not that bad. Just pick the damned things up, what's your problem?!" Harry said impatiently, but he could see exactly what Ron's 'problem' was. The Speeding Solution had consisted of many ingredients, such as spider legs, cricket wings, mouse intestines, large chunks of bouncing mould, and otter eyeballs, all of which were now scattered over the floor, waiting to be picked up. Groaning, Ron stepped forwards, bent down, and reached out for something long and hairy, which was steadily turning turquoise by the fire. He turned pale as he touched it, then quickly threw it onto the remnants of Harry's bag in the middle of the floor.

"You were touching this stuff in potions today, I dunno why you can't handle it now," Harry said, comfortably stacking some transfiguration books by the neat pile of quills. Ron, who was now prodding what looked like one of the eyeballs uncertainly, answered defensively,

"Yeah, but in potions we had gloves." He shuddered as it rolled towards his foot. "And tweezers."

Harry looked at him sceptically. "We didn't have tweezers."

"I did!" Ron said furiously, almost before Harry had finished. Trying to hide his amusement with a bewildered expression, Harry carefully trod over to Ron, dragging his bag with him, thinking it could be used as a bag to contain the potion ingredients.

Slowly, the boys cleared the small section of floor they were working on, and moved away from the fire towards the armchairs and tables for the next lot of ingredients. Despite the oozing slime emitted from a lot of the ingredients, and the mouldering, squishy (yet somehow satisfying), things they had to fiddle with, Ron was starving, and thought longingly of the dinner he could be enjoying in the great hall. Harry, however, had the grace to be put off food whilst he handled it all.

To the boys' surprise, they heard a quiet chirruping start up somewhere near the fire. They looked at each other quizzically, both forgetting the dragon's blood leaking out of the clear bag they held in their hands. Shrugging, Harry looked down, cursed at the leaking bag and quickly got Ron's help to turn it the other way so the hole was at the top, and put it with the rest.

Not five minutes later however, they heard it again. That soft little chirruping that had to be got used to or it could drive a man insane. Ron frowned slightly. "What is that?"

Harry shrugged in reply, then bent his head to reach for a cluster of dead spiders, but immediately raised his head again as the chirruping sounded somewhere just beyond Ron's shoulder.

"It's coming from there," he said, roughly indicating the point he thought he had heard it. Ron got up to investigate, but came to kneel with Harry again after a few minutes, having found nothing. They recovered some frogspawn from under a round table, put it on Harry's bag, and then dragged it over to the windows.

"There it is again!" Ron said incredulously, looking up suddenly and peering round perplexed. Walking away from Harry, he began wandering around the room slowly. Harry, who was beginning to remember just how hungry he was, frowned at Ron.

"What are you do - "

"Shh!" Ron cut him off. Glancing over at Harry - whom he noticed was leaning in a large pile of rabbit droppings - he whispered, "I want to know what it is. Now shh, I have to listen."

He took another cautious step, before turning to Harry once more. "And you're leaning in... never mind." Then he stood still, waiting and listening.

The silence was intense, and just as Ron was about to give up, it started again. He turned excitedly to Harry, who was slowly rising to his feet, eyes wide, head tilted to the side. The chirruping seemed to be coming from all round the room, not just one specific point. Harry walked first one way, then another, his eyes narrowed almost suspiciously. Ron tiptoed around the room, leaning in at sofas and tables as though he thought they were the culprits.

"Crickets!" he exclaimed suddenly, his eyes open wide in realisation. Harry however thought his friend must be loosing it.

"What?"

"It's crickets! There must have been a live cricket in the box of cricket wings, and it's in here, Harry! Oh yes! And we're gonna find it!" Harry chose not to question this, but resolved to find the cricket as fast as they could so as to content Ron and get down to the great hall, they would at least be able to grab something from the meal before dessert began.

The two boys stood in silence for a few minutes more, when the chirruping started up again. Ron tensed, and stood if possible, even stiller than before. Harry did not move his head, but shifted his eyes around the room quickly, hunting out the source of the sound. Suddenly, Ron cried out.

"I SEE IT!" He dove across the floor, landing in some eyeballs, and skidding on his stomach, headlong into the sofa, with his arms stretched out before him, hands clasped together triumphantly.

Standing up, he looked at Harry excitedly. Harry raised an eyebrow at him, as an eyeball slowly slid down the front of his robe, leaving a slime trail behind it. Ron however, didn't seem to notice (or care, Harry thought with amusement), and waved his clasped fists in Harry's face.

"I have it!" he said, his voice trembling, his face very close to Harry's. "Look!" And he slowly opened his hands. Harry and Ron looked down into his palms, where there was...

"A spider?" Harry scoffed, as Ron yelped and shook his hands before him in panic, jumping backwards wailing. "That's pathetic Ron, even by your standards!" Ron scowled at him.

"Well I bet I find the thing before you do!" he said standing still and rubbing his hands down his robes.

"You're on!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

And with that, the two boys turned their backs on one another, looking around the room, trying to still their excited breathing so the cricket would start up again. Ron's face was flushed and his eyes wide. Harry's very nostrils quivered, and he sharply turned his head to every corner of the room, peering round suspiciously.

Slowly, they began to walk around, shifting potion ingredients round to see beneath them. Harry, glancing towards the stairs to the girls' dormitories, saw a movement. He looked at Ron warily to see if he had noticed, and then slowly, he began to tiptoe casually towards it. Noticing Harry move more decisively, Ron quickly began to watch the area desperately.

"YES!" he cried as he saw it move. He ran forwards, and soon he and Harry were neck and neck and then leaping through the air together. They crashed halfway up the girls staircase, and felt themselves roll down immediately as the stairs blended together to form a hard slide. Looking up weakly at the bottom, Ron peered round.

"Where'd it go?" Harry muttered dazedly from somewhere beneath him.

"I dunno, I think you scared it off," he sighed, disentangling himself.

"ME?" Harry cried indignantly, but then, his stomach strengthening his resolve, he sighed as he continued. "You want to work together Ron? We can get to dinner quicker if we do."

"Yeah, OK then," Ron said, trying to convince himself he would have won anyway, "bet's off."

"What bet? What's been going on in here?"

The boys dragged themselves painfully to their feet, and cast around for the speaker. Neville stood at the foot of the boys' staircase, watching them curiously. They looked at him, blushing slightly, and nudging each other to explain. Reluctantly, Harry briefly explained.

"Don't worry about it Neville. We spilt our potion ingredients on the way in here, and now we're looking for a cricket. And you?" Ron sniggered. Even Harry himself realised just how stupid it sounded. Neville grinned nervously.

"I was stuck in here because the portrait hole wouldn't open, so I just went upstairs and read Advanced Magical Theorem to Trevor... I swear, there's a little genius hidden in that amphibian exterior just waiting to come out." Harry and Ron exchanged a confused, yet slightly amused glance.

"Well anyway, I heard you two yelling and a load of banging so I came down."

"Well the portrait's OK now, you can go."

"No," Neville said. "No, I think I'll stay, I'm quite good at finding things. Like this one time, I found a needle in our lawn when we got back from holiday in Wales. I trod on it, sure, but it was still found. I can help!" Ron groaned and Harry shrugged, then the two of them tensed suddenly. Neville looked at them, and then he heard it too. The cricket!

The three boys began to pace the room slowly again. Neville suddenly leapt towards the armchair, but landed a few feet short of it and was covered in ink from a pot he had just crushed. He quickly pulled himself to his feet, and as though he had never fallen, took another flying leap at the chair. He began scrabbling round desperately, then after a few unsuccessful minutes, he stopped, got to his feet, and said with dignity, "Thought I saw it there. Shall we continue?"

Ten unsuccessful minutes later, Harry let out an exasperated roar, breaking the intense silence, and collapsed on the floor. Ron watched him reproachfully, whilst Neville watched a patch of wall by the portrait hole intently.

"It's in here, Harry, don't you dare give up!" Ron cried avidly. "It's screwing with our heads see, it wants us to give up, it wants us to leave, but we're not gonna give it that satisfaction, ok? Are we?!" He didn't wait for an answer. "No! We're gonna stick together and hunt that thing down!"

Harry leapt to his feet in a frenzy.

"YES!" he cried, and fell onto his front, dragging himself along the carpet slowly, weaving between the various potion ingredients and books. Neville, finally deciding the cricket wasn't perched on that square inch of wall, dashed over to the fireplace, stepping over Harry distractedly. He stopped suddenly, half over Harry, who lay flat on the floor with his ear to the ground.

"You know," he began slowly, sounding as though he could barely contain his excitement, "Trevor could sort this out in a second, why I didn't think of him sooner is beyond me, I'll go get him - "

"I'll tell you why you didn't think of it sooner!" Ron cried, looking mortified at the idea of having a toad do his dirty work. "You were thinking straight, that's why! We can't have some random toad catching our cricket! It's the pleasure of the hunt that makes it so important! And I bet your toad'll eat the damn thing if it comes anywhere near. Yeah, it'll eat it with that tongue thing," he said, waving his own around at the other two, slurping at the air as spit flung from his hanging tongue. "We can't get the toad, Neville! I won't allow it! We need to hunt down the cricket ourselves!" And he looked at Neville defiantly. Neville scowled, and Harry distinctly heard him mutter, "It's head'll make a fine trophy, Ron," and he proceeded to the fireplace.

Suddenly, Harry gasped and looked up. Ron turned to him sharply, a manic glint in his eye. "I hear it too, Harry, I hear it too!"

Neville squinted, then shut his eyes completely, Harry and Ron watched him, intrigued. He slowly raised his hand, let it hover in the air for a moment, and then pointed decisively towards the floor beneath the window. His eyes snapped open, and he looked at the two bemused boys in excitement.

"It's there!" he whispered, barely getting the words out, for his voice was trembling in excitement, and his face shone with child-like happiness and pride. Ron immediately caught on, and bent quickly to drag Harry to his feet by the scruff of his neck. He followed Neville's gaze, and immediately pushed Harry to the left of him, muttering in his ear as he did so.

"Surround it, got to surround it... Take it by surprise... Got to surround it..." And Harry carefully picked his way to the left side of the window, excitement coursing through his veins rapidly.

The three boys stood there in a small triangle, the wall beside Harry and Neville, Ron standing opposite it. They stood for what felt like hours, but it may have only been several seconds, and they simply listened as the quiet chirruping seemed to get louder and louder, engulfing the common room to such an extent that it seemed to echo loudly in their ears, and they were all stood silently, tense, ready to move when Ron gave the word, for somehow, he seemed to have become in charge of this hunt.

Ron however, just as tense and expectantly exited as the others, didn't seem in any particular rush to give the order. He glanced up at them shortly, as though worried that if he took his eyes off the spot, the cricket would disappear, although in actual fact, none of them could actually see the hunted.

"Wait," he murmured slowly, "for... the opportune... moment."

The cricket's chirruping reverberated throughout the common room, pounding on their ear drums, echoing through the silence. Excitement flooded the eager boys, and they watched, with almost painful anxiety, the spot beneath the window where Neville was so sure the cricket lay, and incidentally, it happened to be the exact same spot Harry's broken bag full of retrieved ingredients sat.

Just as Harry thought he could no longer stand the intense wait, the loud groaning of his food-deprived stomach, and most of all the chirruping cricket, which now seemed to be singing through a megaphone... It stopped.

The silence rang through the room like a bell, and Ron's face, already filled with eager passion, seemed to radiate excited, expectant, determination. He bent his knees, ready to leap...

"NOW!" he cried, and the three boys dove forwards, headlong into the bag.

Spider legs and frogspawn flew through the room for the second time that evening. Round lumps of mould bounced away into far corners, powdered moonstone found its way into their robes, and a somewhat slimy shrivelfig wedged itself in Neville's shoe, whilst Ron found several live caterpillars sliding down his back inside his T-shirt.

Caterpillars however, could not deter Ron from his frenzied searching, he did not even stop to wipe the spittle away from his chin, as he cried, "SEARCH! LOOK FOR IT! CATCH IT! LEAVE NO SALAMANDER TAIL UNTURNED, NO EYEBALL UNCRUSHED - "

"RON! NO!" Harry cried, for after all, they did need those ingredients.

"FINE!" Ron roared. "JUST SEARCH, OK. JUST... JUST SEARCH!" And he threw a glass vial of pomegranate juice over his shoulder. It smashed with a satisfying crunch behind them, and they continued their desperate scrabbling.

Neville hit Ron hard around the side by mistake as he swung his arm around, clutching a heavy flagon of hellebore syrup. Ron fell to his side, winded, but that didn't stop his frantic searching. He rolled around on the floor, gasping deeply, dipping his hands into anything and everything he could find. Harry however, stood up, wiping his robes, then bent down and grabbed both Neville and Ron. He shoved them backwards out of the way and they sat there, slightly dazed. Neville feebly spat out a few strands of gaietygrass and looked wearily at Ron's hair, which had a random eyeball stuck in it, and shone brightly with slime. Leech juice dripped from his locks like water.

Ron wasn't going to stay put for long though, and inevitably, he leapt to his feet, rolled up his sleeves, bent over, pushed Harry behind him, and stuck his hands in again, although admittedly, there was little left in the pile, for the rest had once again been distributed around the room. Whilst he was searching, Ron got the feeling that he was being watched by more than two people. He stopped, and slowly stood up straight and turned.

Hermione was stood, staring, in front of the open portrait hole. The fat lady was looking in, giggling. Hermione looked shocked, but a smile was slowly creeping up her face as her eyes travelled from Ron's eyeball ridden hair, to Harry's slime stained robes, to Neville, who was sat on the floor, flicking cricket wings off his lap, and plucking at a rat spleen that rested on his shoulder. They were all avoiding Hermione's eyes, waiting for someone to speak. Eventually, when Hermione felt they had suffered under her gaze enough, she spoke.

"Hi, guys." Ron's stomach rumbled loudly. "Whatcha been up to?" Neville got to his feet and regretted it immediately, as he crushed the shrivelfig, and juice squelched unpleasantly between his toes. He grimaced.

"We've been hunting a cricket," he said, without embarrassment or regret.

Hermione merely stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide in surprise, as though it had been the last answer she expected, which it most probably was. Slowly, she brought her gaze to her two best friends for confirmation. Harry blushed, and Ron looked up defiantly, his eyes gleaming madly in a way she had never seen before.

"Yeah, and I reckon we got it, too!" he said as Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly. She watched as Neville hobbled over to Harry leant on his shoulder, pulled off his shoe, and emptied a considerable, and somewhat surprising amount of juice onto the carpet. Ron ran a hand through his hair and dislodged the eyeball.

Hermione finally pushed the portrait of the fat lady shut, and when she continued to say nothing, Ron took a step forward, thinking to go and salvage anything that might be left from the meal in the great hall. Perhaps there would at least be some dessert left on the table... Some treacle tart, or... or maybe some jelly and ice cream, or...

A quiet chirruping started just behind him and he froze in his tracks. He trembled furiously, and tried to speak but could only splutter his rage. His eyes glistened, and he began to giggle madly, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Hermione and Harry exchanged concerned glances, and Neville stared at Ron in wonder.

"Ron?" Hermione said timidly, taking a step forward and placing her hand on his shaking shoulders. He turned to her, still laughing.

"After all that... ha ha... After all, that... Ha ha ha ha, hehehe ha ha.... It's still there... Ha ha... It's still... bloody... there!" And he broke into hysterical laughter, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks.

Harry was startled, and Neville looked as though he were embarrassed to be there, and tried not to look at Ron, whose laughter was ringing through the common room loudly, drowning out the chirruping of the cricket. Hermione however, shooting Ron a worried look, hastily drew out her wand.

Ron's laughter stopped abruptly as he saw it, and all eyes were upon Hermione as she held her wand out.

"Accio Cricket!" she cried, and from under the red armchair by the fireplace, a brown twig-like object came zooming into her outstretched hands, and there it chirruped happily. Harry Neville and Ron watched in awe, and Hermione walked over to the window, open it, stuck her closed fist out of it, and released the cricket. She closed the window and made her way back to the boys. Harry and Neville watched her with wide-eyed shock - why the hell hadn't they thought of that? Ron however, was stood, still watching the window with a glazed expression on his face, and his eyes were blank and glassy.

"What?" she asked innocently as Harry gave her a look of utmost disbelief. Ron suddenly gave a shriek of laughter, and sank down to the floor the floor, giggling insanely.

"Accio... Ha ha ha... Accio... HA HA HA... All we had to do... Ha ha... ALL WE HAD TO BLOODY DO... HA HA HA HA HA... ACCIO... HA HA HA HA HA HAA HAAA HA!!!"

Neville looked terrified, and began backing towards the boys' staircase. He tripped over the neat pile of books and quills Harry had made earlier, and fell flat on his back, but quickly scrambled to his feet and continued to back slowly up the stairs and out of sight.

Harry looked at Hermione worriedly. "What do we do?" he murmured desperately. Hermione shrugged helplessly, and then bent down and put her arm around Ron. Harry followed suit and crouched to Ron's left.

"Ron?" Hermione asked again. He subdued his giggles, but his shoulders shook, and the insanity shinning in his face scared Hermione slightly as he turned his head to look at her in wide eyed wonder. "How about we go to the kitchens and get some food, yeah? Would you like that?" She spoke to him as though he were a toddler, or some furry little pet some people (mainly muggles, she had noted), spoke to like they were babies. Ron leapt to his feet suddenly, taking Harry and Hermione by surprise, but they hurried up after him. He looked from one to the other, a lunatic grin spreading over his face.

"Yes, yes food, food for all! Delicious nutritious sweet, sweet food, sausages and chocolate frogs and frozen pumpkin juice, and chips - the damned lazy buggers should come to me! But I'll compromise, oh yes, I'll go to them, then we'll see, ha ha, who's eating who now potato-boy, who's eating who now?! The broccoli will sort you out, and then I'll eat that too! Ha ha ha ha ha, I'll eat them all, I'LL EAT THE ALL!!! HA HA HA HA... "

Harry looked over at Hermione, waiting for instruction on how to handle their insane friend. She took one of Ron's arms, and Harry quickly took the other, and they led him to the portrait hole, where Hermione quickly turned and pointed to the floor with her wand.
"Wingardium leviosa!" And one by one, each of the still-usable-and-virtually-uncrushed potion ingredients rose, and she directed them all onto an empty table. Then, once all the ingredients were on the table, she pointed her wand at the carpet. "Scourgify!" And the floor was restored to its usual state of cleanliness.

With that, Hermione turned, grabbed Ron's arm, and she and Harry flanked him through the portrait hole into the kitchens, with him muttering insanely about food, and wholeheartedly standing by his conviction that an army of broccoli would destroy lazy chips everywhere.