It's The Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter!

It's the Great Pumpkin, Harry Potter (07)

Chapter Seven. The Day After (Continued) ...

The assembled Gryffindors stood shivering outside the doors of Hogwarts (where McGonagall had sent them earlier), staring bemusedly at Professor Flitwick (with a hand over his nose) who seemed to be casting charms at a large pile of clothes. He was surrounded by Slytherins, many of who were casting angry, even hateful, glares at the assembled Gryffindors.

"What's going on?" a bleary-eyed Fred Weasley asked Harry. The latter shrugged, mumbling something about a McGonagall on the warpath. A sudden shift in the wind suddenly sent the Gryffindors coughing ... it was as if someone had distilled the contents of the Hogwarts' sewage system into a single, overpowering stench.

"What was that?" George said, his eyes watering, and coughing loudly. Ginny quickly conjured a wind-blocking charm which she had learned from Hermione to deflect the wind ... which did nothing to stop the smell which, they finally realized, was coming from the Slytherins - and the pile of clothing that Professor Flitwick was casting charms on.

Harry's eyes narrowed, looking accusingly at the still-coughing Twins who suddenly straightened up and stared at Harry with hurt expressions in their eyes.

"That wasn't us, mate!" Fred said.

"Oh, no! If it were us ... d'you think we'd have waited for Halloween?" George seconded his Twin.

Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged at him in a 'don't look at me!' gesture. He looked around at the assembled Gryffindors, suddenly noticing that Hermione was missing ... along with Cindy and Ca. He was about to ask Ginny if she had seen Hermione, when the latter called out to him from the castle's doors.

He turned around and saw Hermione coming out of the castle, with a struggling Crookshanks in her arms, and leading two lion cubs who were playfully swatting at each other as they gamboled along.

"Uhmmm, Mione ..."

"It's Caroline and Cindy," she replied. "I stayed behind to make sure that no one was left in the girl's dormitory ... when I got to the Common Room, I saw the two eating some cakes, and then ..." She gestured at the two lion cubs who were now playing at her feet, and she stared accusingly at Fred and George.

"We didn't do it, Hermione!" The Twins replied at once.

"Honestly!" George said in a movingly injured voice. "We haven't even got to that yet ..."

"Yeah! We were just experimenting ... Owww!" his twin said, suddenly breathless from the elbow to the gut that George launched. "I mean ... we haven't even perfected that product yet ..."

"What exactly does that mean?" Hermione asked in a dangerous voice. She looked ready to turn both boys, even if they were older and in their Seventh Year, into weasels for their trouble. Crookshanks, however, distracted her as he suddenly leaped at the playing cubs ... and started hissing, and pawing the two.

She tried to grab Crookshanks when Harry suddenly wrapped his arms around her. "Let him be, Mione! It's probably his only chance ..."

Hermione cast him a puzzled look.

"The ultimate male fantasy ... playing with two young girls. Owww! That hurt!" he said, as Hermione swatted his head. Before she could do any further damage, Professor McGonagall's arctic cold voice further chilled the air: "Are all the Gryffindors here? What, in the name of Merlin, is that?"

Professor McGonagall's mouth - and her square glasses -- had dropped at the sight of the three cats playing on the ground, surrounded by smiling Gryffindors. She placed her glasses back on her nose, and her suddenly piercing eyes lasered out at the Weasley Twins.

"We didn't do it, Professor McGonagall! Promise!" Fred and George responded, right hands up, left hands over their hearts, in their best aggrieved-that-you-would-even-think-of-us-doing-something-like-that manner.

"Uh, Professor," Hermione broke in, "what's going on?"

Professor McGonagall, her laser-like eyes still focused on the protesting twins, replied in a cold, barely in control voice: "Last night, someone sent several giant pumpkins to the House common rooms. The one sent to the Slytherins apparently contained several dozen ..." she struggled to find a word, "improved dung-bombs."

"Improved?" Harry questioned. At that moment, the wind shifted again, sending the horrible smell from the Slytherins (it was now apparent that even the clothes they were wearing had the same smell) wafting over them and sending everyone, including McGonagall, into another coughing fit.

"It wasn't us, Professor! I swear on Professor Dumbledore's wig that we didn't do it!" Fred said in a loud voice.

"He wears a wig?" Lee Jordan, the Twin's best friend, suddenly broke in - only to quail as McGonagall's eyes bored into him. "Sorry," he squeaked.

"What about the other Houses, Professor?" Harry stepped in before McGonagall could turn Jordan into a pumpkin. She looked ready to turn the Twins and their friend into pumpkins and start bouncing them around, much like Professor Moody (or Crouch) had turned Draco Malfoy into a ferret last year.

The question successfully diverted McGonagall from the Twins. "Three Ravenclaws were turned into eagles in their Common Room; I think Miss Bones and Miss Abbot are walking around as badgers in the Hufflepuff ..."

"Too bad Malfoy didn't turn into a snake," Ron said, as he spotted Draco Malfoy staring daggers from among the assembled Slytherins. He raised his voice, "Still wearing your pumpkin drawers, Malfoy?"

"Quiet, Mr. Weasley." McGonagall's voice had turned even colder than anyone thought possible, sending shivers down the spines of everyone within hearing - even the three cats on the ground froze, and were looking at her with bemused expressions on their faces. "What I want to know is ... who did these? When I get my hands on those responsible ... it will be a cold day in June before they finish their detentions!"

The Twins were about to protest their innocence yet again, when a calm voice broke in, calling out "Minerva! Professor McGonagall!"

All eyes turned to the voice of the Headmaster - and Professor McGonagall suddenly stumbled backwards - whether in shock or surprise, no one could tell - to be caught by Harry and Hermione before she fell down. She continued to stare at Dumbledore with her mouth gaping open like a fish out of water.

Professor Dumbledore approached the assembled Gryffindors - white beard and hair sparkling in the morning sun ... blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses ... wearing resplendent white robes sparkling with winking pumpkins.

"Professor Dumbledore!" McGonagall squeaked.

"Quite fetching, aren't they?" Professor Dumbledore turned around, showing the students all sides of his robes - and ignoring the snickers coming from the Slytherins. "Actually," and he raised his voice slightly, making it heard by the Slytherins, "these are Professor Snape's robes."

Silence fell.

"Professor Snape?" McGonagall paled ... she looked as if she were preparing herself for a fainting spell. "What exactly do you mean, Headmaster? Is this connected to ... " and she gave a vague gesture towards the Slytherins, including the two lion cubs who were now watching developments with interest.

Professor Dumbledore looked keenly at the two lion cubs; his eyes, if that were possible, seemed to twinkle even more. Glancing up at Harry, he said, "Cindy and Caroline, I assume?"

At Harry's silent nod, he smiled and threw an inquiring eyebrow at the Twins. He raised his hand before they could protest their innocence. "I believe that this is something that would be beyond the two of you ... unless you've been studying hard over the summer and the past few months?" The two shook their heads. "Or should I expect better than average N.E.W.T.s from you this year?"

Again, the two shook their heads.

"Ah, well ... it seems that whoever did this has a level of expertise far better than any student at Hogwarts."

"Uhmmm, Professor." The Headmaster looked at Hermione. She continued, "Uhmmm ... what did you mean that those are Professor Snape's robes?"

"Ah, yes ... well." His smile widened. "Apparently some one sent another pumpkin to Professor Snape's room. When he opened it, he apparently let loose a curse which ... ah ... turned all his clothes into something like this."

Snickers were heard, and quickly suppressed at a single glare from Professor McGonagall. Ron, as usual, couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Including his boxer shorts, Professor?"

"Ah ... ehem ... I believe so." Ron made a valiant effort to stop himself from dissolving into sudden laughter. His face became redder by the second, his breathing came in gasps, he suddenly bent over, clutching his stomach ... only McGonagall's laser-sharp eyes kept him from dissolving into a puddle of laughing Weasley.

"In any case, I offered him one of my robes until ... ah, he could brew up a potion to return his clothes to their original colors."

"Is he all right, Professor?" Harry asked in a concerned voice that was, nevertheless, shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Yes, he is. Apparently, only his clothes were affected. Minerva," and he turned to Professor McGonagall. "As I was saying, this is apparently something that is beyond the capabilities of any student at Hogwarts ... the planning and execution are, to put it mildly, far too exquisite and detailed to be within the capabilities of ordinary pranksters."

His gaze fell on the two lion cubs who were now swatting at each other, while Crookshanks tried to get them to play with him. His eyes twinkled as he said, "Even for those with the brains of Miss Granger and the hearts of Masters Gred and Forge."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but didn't make a comment when she saw the outraged expressions on the Twin's faces. She knew that they had been planning some major mischief as their graduation neared ... whoever had done this had effectively stolen their thunder. Nothing they did from now until graduation from Hogwarts will ever top this!

That thought, and the frustration it brings, would be punishment enough for them.

She turned back to Professor Dumbledore. "I expect you're right, Headmaster. This will just go down as another of the many mysteries of Hogwarts ..."

The Headmaster nodded.

A slight 'pop' was heard, followed by -- "Owww! That hurt!" All eyes turned to see Cindy and Ca on all fours on the grass - apparently, one or the other had been scratched by a still-playful Crookshanks who, bottle-brushed tail standing straight up, was backing away from the two girls.

The two stood up, brushing themselves off and shivering in the cold morning air, and blushing to the roots of their hair, not looking anyone in the eye.

"Ah, excellent!" Professor Dumbledore said. "I hope that means that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff are also back to normal. Miss Granger," Hermione looked at him. "I suggest you bring your charges to the Hospital Wing for a check-up. The rest of you should proceed to breakfast ... and take the rest of the day off."

Cheers rang at this declaration of amnesty. Harry, however, looked at the Slytherins, still standing around with scowls on their faces. "What about them, Professor?" he asked.

"The house elves will be bringing out food. I expect that their ... aroma will not be conducive to eating, especially when confined to the Great Hall."

"Thank you!" a dozen fervent voices (including Ron's) were heard.

"All right, then." With that, the Gryffindors started walking towards the doors of Hogwarts, Hermione with her arms around Cindy and Ca, Harry following them.

"Harry! A moment, if you please." Hermione looked back at Harry who, with a shrug, went over to Professor Dumbledore.

"A most impressive prank, don't you think, Harry?"

"Uhm ... yes, Professor. Most impressive." Harry looked at the Headmaster, puzzled. "Was there something you needed from me, sir?"

"Oh, yes." The Headmaster reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out an old, battered, dog-eared, red pocketbook and handed it to Harry, saying at the same time, "Madame Pince found this in the library the other day ... Can you please return this to Caroline, a gift from her mother, I believe."

Harry took the book, glancing at the cover - and looked at the Headmaster in surprise. There were several very familiar round-headed characters below the title, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown."

The Headmaster looked back at him impassively.

"Professor ..." Harry couldn't ask the questions that suddenly came to mind. Professor Dumbledore, however, apparently read his mind. "As I said, Harry ... I doubt that any student could have done all this ... at the very least, it would have required some very competent help."

"I see ..." Harry said slowly. Curious, he opened the book - and saw an inscription on the inside front cover:

"Caroline (he read) ...

Your Uncle Remus gave this to me when I was a little girl. Always remember what he told you (and me, when I was younger) - 'Never doubt the existence of magic in our lives.'

Take care.

Mum"

He looked up at the Headmaster in surprise. "Uncle Remus? As in Professor Remus Lupin?"

"I believe that Remus' youngest sister was, unfortunately, non-magical. It happens, even in the best wizarding families. But then, it sometimes manifests itself strongly in the next generation."

"I see." Harry said, slowly. With a sudden grin, he asked, "Do you think we will ever find out who really did this, Professor? I mean ... you did say that a student could have done this with competent help. Like ... a Marauder's help?"

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Follow your heart, Mr. Potter. You may find an answer there ... although it seems that you have found some answers of your own last night."

With that, he started walking towards the castle, his pumpkin-patterned robes swirling around him ... leaving a dazed Harry Potter, with his mouth opened once again, staring at his retreating back.