It's Not Easy Being a Squib or The Misadventures of Chester B. Humpledincker

Anyway, there will be no need for any rough and tumble at this point in our tale, for as if right on cue our antihero and his captors suddenly find themselves thrown through space in a giddying world of flashes of light and a funny little tingling sensation in their ears. Just as suddenly as this had started, it now ends, and where there was once a meatpacking warehouse there is now a dark room, with the curtains drawn, and a fireplace glowing in the corner. Some might consider it a cosy room, but these people; they'd be serial killers with a mind for death. For the fire is glowing a sickly green colour, and whilst the room is thickly carpeted and adjourned with furniture and paintings, it could not be considered homely in the sense that you could put your feet up and eat a Pot Noodle on the sofa. Not unless you wished to die an excruciatingly painful death, which quite frankly, no one wants to really, do they? Chester, feeling rather taken aback by the whole travelling-through-space thing, elects to remain silent for a while, at least until he has gathered his thoughts together, which are at the moment running around all over the place like a bunch of hooligan children in a playground. To Chester's surprise, his two captors also look rather taken aback by this whole scenario, which is not particularly comforting to him. What neither Chester nor the two mismatched criminals have realised is that sitting in a dark corner of the room (in fact, the corner furthest away from the fire, where the shadows hang menacingly overhead) is sitting the Dark Lord himself. Some have unwisely (and a bit too casually) addressed him simply as "V", but even with the prefix of "Mister", the consequences are dire. For Lord Voldemort deserves some respect (even if he is married to the evil frump Judemort). There are some things that money can't buy, and some that money can buy - including wives. Alas, V (sorry, Lord Voldemort) elected for the former, but who's going to lecture him on the finer points of mail ordering brides?

Voldemort- *Deep breathing of the type mastered by Darth Vader* (to Tintin) So I see you have used my portkey in the shape of that rusty meat hook to unwittingly transport yourself, your accomplice, and my dinner to my humble abode. Well done. Now leave.

Tintin- Er righty-ho...but, our money?

Voldemort- Oh I do apologise. (He snaps his fingers and two large hooded figures enter the room) Make sure these two gentlemen receive their payment.

Chester's captors are escorted out of the room. Agonising screams of pain are heard from outside as Chester (now sweating like no man or beast has ever sweated before) stands in the centre of the room, not daring to look at the dark corner of the room where the shadowy figure lurks.

**********************

Meanwhile...

Sebastian is lying on his bed thinking about Life. What was it all about anyway?

Sebastian Snape had come to Hogwarts principally because he idolised his uncle Severus. Why? He knew not. After all, Severus wasn't exactly the most generous of wizards. In fact, Sevvy had objected to Sebs coming to stay. It was Dumbledore who had invited him - "Why Severus, your nephew is positively charming. Of course I would be delighted to have him stay as our guest here at Hogwarts. Perhaps he can put himself to good use, assisting you with your potions classes maybe?" Of course it was more out of pity that Dumbledore had allowed him to stay, for it was obvious to even Sebastian that he was just plain useless - an insult to the name of Snape. Just at the moment when Seb could not have felt any worse, not even if a flobberworm had exploded in his face, who should enter the room without so much as a tap on the door, or even a clearing of the throat to make his presence known, than our dear old Severus Snape. Looking resplendent *cough* in black flowing hooded robes, much like death on his way to a party massacre, he clears his throat...

Sev- Ahem...Sebastian, I have some...business to attend to. Whilst I do not wish to...trouble you, I do have a favour to ask of you. If by some chance I have not returned by tomorrow morning, would you please cover for me in my morning potions class with the fifth year...Slytherins?

Sebastian- Of course Uncle.

Sev- And please just stick to the textbook, I would hate for there to be any...accidents in my absence. *his top lip begins to curl in a sneer-like fashion, and with this he swiftly exits, leaving Sebastian quaking in his little boots*

***********************

Voldemort- So, I see my unwitting pawns have brought me a live festering corpse. How generous. *more deep breaths*

*Chester shifts uncomfortably*

Voldemort- Oh well, there's no point prolonging the agony. Some may well call me humane, but I'm doing this to relieve my agony rather than yours - although I, the Dark Lord, have seen many horrors in my time (and caused a great many of them myself) even I cannot stomach the sight of you pitiful squib...

Chester- Sorry, squib did you say?

Voldemort- Yes, squib. A useless bloody squib! *he raises his wand...*

Reader- "What, wand did you just say?"

Ed- Yes, wand. Just for the uninitiated, Voldemort is no ordinary Dark Lord. Aka The Earl of Darkington. Or the Duke de Noir. He is in fact an evil wizard. So there.

Voldemort- Avada...

Chester- No wait!

Voldemort- *increasingly heavy breathing* What? Can't you see I'm trying to kill you?

Chester- Er...sorry, but what's a squib? I'd just like to know before you sentence me to an eternity of damnation.

Voldemort- You don't know? Muhahahahaha! A "squib" (inverted commas hand movements) is a person born to a wizarding family who can do no magic. How in Merlin's name could you not have realised?

Chester- My family disowned me at an early age. I suppose I have always wondered why the dining table suddenly grew smaller every time I attempted to join my family for dinner...or why I frequently found myself hanging upside down in thin air with my brothers and sisters laughing at me...

Voldemort- Well, after that tragic story that almost could have made me pity you - if I hadn't been the Dark Lord and all - I think it's about time I put you out of my misery. *Once again he raises his wand*

There is a knock at the door. Voldemort lowers his wand with a look of defeat on his face, almost as if Harry Potter himself was standing in front of him smirking.

Voldemort- Oh what now?

Deep velvet baritone voice from outside- My Lord, it is I Severus Snape, your humble servant, here to answer to your greatness.

Voldemort- Snape. Ah yes...I was wondering when you would arrive. Enter.

Snape enters the room, looking surprisingly composed considering the evil red glint in Voldemort's eyes directed his way. He glances sideways at Chester with a look that says, "Who the hell are you? And why are you even breathing the same air as me you fool"

Voldemort- Ah yes, Severus, this is my good friend Chester, he's a dinner guest...but enough with the formalities- Expelliarmus!

He catches Snape's wand as it leaps out from his left sleeve. Snape kneels down in front of Voldemort, who immediately raises his own wand, uttering the words "Crucio!". Snape (already on his knees of course) keels over onto the floor in a fit of pain - rather undignified for the Hogwarts potions master who usually revels in other people's misfortunes.

Voldemort- Severus, Severus, tut tut, I hope this is not too painful for you. After all, I should think this is minor compared to the pang of guilt that twists like a knife in your gut each time you feel the Dark Mark burn. I hope this is a lesson to you that disloyalty will not be tolerated...along with excessive amounts of Brylcreem and Yves Saint Laurent cologne. I could kill you now but it gives me great pleasure to see you in such discomfort. Where is the almighty Albus Dumbledore now, when you need him the most? No, don't reply, I don't need your piteous excuses. You have failed, Snape, failed first and foremost as a Death Eater, and now failed as an ally with all those who dare to stand against me. In a matter of days Hogwarts will be mine and Dumbledore will simply be a shadow of the past. You probably realise that I lost my trust in you a long time ago...ever since your attempts to protect the Potter boy came to my attention. However, I still had my uses for you - I admit your potions making is second to none, although if I look back on it now, it seems you were just a glorified tea boy. I have been surprised by your courage - or stupidity, daring to work on both sides. You deserve no mercy, which is why you shall be imprisoned with this good-for-nothing squib that two fools tried to pass off as my dinner. And as for the Great Dumbledore...why, he is about to receive his comeuppance...

During this rather dull, prolonged speech Chester, who for the most part of this tale will remain a dimwit, is suddenly blinded by a metaphorical light bulb suspended over his head in mid air.

Chester- *Ah ha, I have a cunning plan* (he seemed to say)

Without time to think about the potential consequences of his actions, Chester sneaks up to Voldemort and does the unthinkable. Having no magical powers of his own, he simply does what any self-respecting idiot would do (whether this be in a school playground or in one's captor's secret hideout) he reaches down and pulls Voldemort's evil-type black robes right over the Dark Lord's head.

Voldemort- * in cheesy slapstick type way* Who turned out the lights??

Voldemort struggles underneath his robes for a full ten minutes more than should actually be feasible for someone in his position. However it must be noted that Voldemort has not been drinking enough of the White Stuff (milk that is, not unicorn blood) - and his bones are therefore too weak for him to drag the robes off of his head and free himself. This should, in theory, give Chester and Sev enough time to escape. Sev is lying on the floor weakly trying to signal to Chester that it is time for them to make their escape. Chester however is at that moment enchanted by the sudden entrance of a lone butterfly that flutters through the open window of Voldemort's secret lair. This causes Chester to start philosophising on the rudimentary principles of chaos theory...

Chester- If a butterfly flaps it's wings somewhere in the highlands of Scotland in a location supposedly secret to muggles (although for sake of argument let's just say Aberdeen), will this, after a number of apparently ordinarily connected events (such as the wind blowing a conker off a tree and someone being knocked out by a piano falling on their head) and many very long and complicated equations, eventually lead to an earthquake in China?

Sev, ever increasingly panicking, attempts to attract Chester's attention in as many ways possible that can be done by a man immobilised on the floor.

Sev- Hmm, it appears that banging my head on the floor is not having the desired effect of attracting this dunderhead's attention. Perhaps if I try coughing violently...no, still not working...I just need to kill that darned butterfly, but how? Where is a damn crossbow when you need one? Ah ha, what if I try letting off wind in Morse code...that'll fulfil the double purpose of killing the butterfly and signalling to Spotted Dick that we need to leave...NOW.

Sevs butt- *we...need...to...get...out...of...here*

The butterfly slowly folds it's wings and drops to the floor, overwhelmed by the gases exuding from Sev's backside. Chester, apparently free from his reverie, sniffs the air, entranced by the welcoming odour before him.

Sev- *Thank Merlin for those beans I had for dinner...* Chester, we need to leave NOW! Just head for that green light...

Ten minutes later...

Voldemort- (finally released from his polyester prison) Victory-is-mine! ... Hello, anybody there? ... Curses!

Voldemort begins to regret having had that fire exit door installed in his secret lair.

************************************

In the mean time Chester and Sev are making their escape down a long winding corridor, Sev dragging his left leg behind him, followed by Chester and a gang of flying monkeys.

Leading Monkey- (in monkey sign language) All I want from you is a banaaana, please come back!

Sev- We have no bananas, just a few sprinkles of genius with a chance of doom!

Lead monkey- Ok, sorry to bother you mate *bloody humans and their melodrama*

All of a sudden (as if they didn't see it coming) Sev and Chester reach the end of the corridor. Luckily, there is a large wooden door in front of them just begging to be opened. Unluckily however, the agonizing screams heard earlier when Tintin and Snowy were dragged away can still be heard...behind the door. Sev and Chester decide to take their chances, so Chester swings the door open and the pair dive inside, only to be confronted with a devastating sight.

Snowy is lying on the floor wailing hysterically, with Tintin kneeling beside him.

Tintin- He's inconsolable, there's no taramasalata in the buffet...

Snowy- *cries* What's a buffet without no damn taramasalata? I begged them to put an end to my suffering but they just ignored me. I even offered to phone the deli but they just laughed in my face...so cruel... *his voice trails off*

As snowy silently hugs himself in the fetal position Tintin gets up, wiping a tear from his eye.

Tintin- What I want to know is why?

Tintin- *screams* "Why????!!!" then makes as if to lunge down the corridor at Voldemort. Sev and Chester hold him back.

Tintin- You bastard!!

They struggle some more till Tintin finally gives up and regains his composure.

Tintin- I'm sorry. I lost it. I just can't stand to see him that way.

They all turn to look at Snowy who by now is rocking back and forth, chewing his hair and saying "Lovely, just the right amount of cods roe...and is that extra virgin olive oil I taste?..."

****************************

BACK AT HOGWARTS

Sebastian as you may recall has been left in charge of Snape's classes for the morning.

A close up of Sebastian's face shows him to look reasonably composed. Well not too close, we don't want to scare you.

Seb- So we've established that the purposes of unicorn hair are varied and useful. Marvin, can you tell me one of them?

The view pans out and turns the other way round to reveal Sebastian hanging upside down, his feet tied to the chandelier in the middle of the room. A fire has started in the middle of the room, tables and chairs are overturned and any of the students left are committing vile acts of debauchery and random property damage. A draught fills the room as one of the Slytherins running amok jumps through a window. The chandelier begins to sway gently from side to side.

Sebastian-*ginger hair swaying rhythmically*- Okay Marvin, sure you don't know? How about you Selina?

Selina, an emaciated girl with long blonde ringlets, coolly flips Seb the v-sign before going back to stoking the fire she has started with some textbooks.

Sebastian- You neither eh? Dear dear, how about you Pelinore?

Pelinore, a very large boy with a copious amount of facial hair that makes up for his lack of brains, stares vacantly at Seb.

Pelinore- 'ow should I know, I'm not the bleedin' teacher. It's for love potions isn't it?

Seb opens his mouth to answer when suddenly the door swings open.

A coolly calm baritone voice- Actually that's phoenix feathers.

The Slytherin students stop in their tracks with that strange prescience of school children that can tell when they are in the presence of authority.

Another voice, more youthful than the first joins in- Though powdered unicorn horn is a powerful aphrodisiac.

Two figures step through the door. The first is obviously the baritone, about six foot one and broad shouldered, and wearing a long navy cloak. His symmetrical face is rather serious though undoubtedly very handsome. The second is an inch or two shorter, with a dark green cloak, a slender build and a pretty, youthful sort of face topped with curly brown hair. A mischievous smile plays upon his face.

The Baritone- May I introduce myself. I am Fitzwilliam Firth.

In one stride he goes over to Sebastian and crushes his hand in a powerful handshake.

*With a smooth flick of his hand the youthful one simultaneously whips out his wand and uncoils the rope tying Chester to the ceiling, who lands on the floor with an oomph*

The Youthful One- I'm not quite so polite as my colleague but I think that can come in handy. Orlando Bloomington.

He walks over to help Fitzwilliam help Chester up.

****************************

IN THE MEANTIME

Snowy is still rocking back and forth. Chester has quietly helped himself to the buffet and Severus is getting irritated.

Sev- Oh pull yourself together man! *he slaps snowy round the face*

It has no effect.

Severus looks at him with distaste then wipes his hands on his trousers.

Sev-...right, well I'm off, I don't know about you but I don't fancy being here when the Dark Lord has regained his composure...

Tintin- *his voice grim* Well I'm staying here. I'll take him on, for the sake of Snowy and all that is sacred in the world of buffets and hors d'oeuvres. *his face is filled with nobility...or possibly heartburn*

Sev turns and leaves, Chester scurrying after him.

And so it was that Severus and Chester left Tintin and Snowy in the confines of Voldemort's secret lair while they themselves escaped through a strategically placed window leading out onto the road to Hogsmeade, on which they journeyed for a full fifteen minutes before finding themselves in the (relative) safe house of the Three Broomsticks.

Sevvy peers out of a window cautiously (if not rather paranoid) checking for any sign of pursuit. Finding none he gratefully slumps into a chair.

Chester- *pulls out a napkin from his pocket* Mini quiche?

Severus looks at him witheringly.

****************************

BACK AT HOGWARTS

Fitzwilliam and Orlando have managed to get the Slytherin students under control and are putting the classroom back into order while Chester looks on in an irritated fashion.

Chester- Thanks but there is really no need for all this, everything was perfectly under control. So if you don't mind leaving me to my class now?

Orlando raises his eyebrows at Fitzwilliam.

Fitzwilliam- Well technically it's our cla...

Seb- Goodbye then.

Orlando- But we're the new...

Seb- *very fast* asIsaideverythingisundercontrol,thatwasjustaslighthiccup. Nowifyoudont mindleavingmewithmyclassthankyouverymuch.

Fitzwilliam- Honestly we're just trying to help you...

Orlando- And you don't win an argument just by talking fast.

Seb- Listen here you *pokes Fitzwilliam in the shoulder* and you *pokes Orlando in the shoulder* this is my class and I'll be damned if you two pretty boys are going to come in here and steal it. Who are you, the new P.E. teachers?? *said with a sneer* I am perfectly capable of controlling this class.

Orlando- Well it didn't look like it before!

Seb- Ooh and do you want to make something of it?

Orlando- No, I'm merely saying that we helped you out!

Fitzwilliam gives Orlando a warning look.

Seb- *puts up his hands in mock boxer pose*- Come on then nancy boy! Lets dance!

*he starts to prance about boxer-style*

Orlando shakes his head in disbelief.

Orlando- You can't be serious.

Seb- I assure you I am deadly serious - with an emphasis on the deadly.

Seb rips off his robes to reveal a black lycra unitard.

Seb- Hold on a sec.

He turns and seems to be fumbling around with something on his face. Finally he turns around to reveal a chalk white face, and strategically placed make up.

Orlando- You don't mean...

Seb- Yes, that's right! For five years I was a member of the Middlington Martial Mime Artists Association! Collectively known as the Maiming Mimers.

Orlando- *trying not to laugh* Mime artists?

Seb- Yes *he puts on a bowler hat* It uses the ancient art of mime in combat thus-

*Seb mimes being trapped inside an invisible box moving closer and closer to Orlando until he is an inch away, then slaps him round the head *

Orlando- *in between laughter* Ow!

Seb- The sublime physical movement of the mime mixed with interpretive dance distracts the attention of the victim...

*Seb then mimes a shark swimming in the ocean*

Seb- ...while strengthening the body leaving a deadly form of attack.

* and comes round the back of Orlando and slaps him again*

Orlando- Stop that!

*Seb begins another mime*

Orlando- Now look here, I don't want to hurt you!

*Seb shows no sign of stopping*

Fitzwilliam is looking on very amused.

Orlando gives him a despairing look- I don't want to hurt him.

Fitzwilliam shrugs resignedly.

Fitz- Hold on, I'll be right back.

Orlando- Oi come back here!

Fitz has already sidled out of the room. Seb is doing something that looks like the dance of the seven veils.

Orlando looks resigned- Ok, but I did say I don't want to hurt you.

Seb- Bah, I'd like to see you try.

As Seb comes up for another attack Orlando grabs his forearm and flips him over on to the ground.

Seb- Arghh! Vicious! That really hurt!

Orlando- *face looks stricken* Sorry, I didn't mean to *extends a hand to help him up*

Seb- Ha fooled you *and attempts to give Orlando a Chinese burn*

Orlando looks at him pityingly before twisting his arm behind his back and kicking him to the ground. Seb suddenly gets the worried look of a man who verily knows he is going to get a right royal arse kicking.