The Fourth Unforgivable

Chapter 5:

It's a Wonderful Whatever

"Draco, dear," Harry said as politely as possible, "do you think maybe you could resist the urge to punch me in the face?"

"Sorry, Harry. Got a bit carried away."

"I mean," Harry continued, voice rising indignantly, "it's not as if I knew this was going to happen."

"Yes, Harry, and I do apologize."

"You needn't get all violent about it, Draco," Harry cried. "I made a mistake, that's all!"

"I understand that, Harry--"

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WE'D GET THIS GIT FOR A GUIDE???"

"Harry, I am finding it hard to resist again."

"Oh, quite right. Sorry."

The mud cooed sympathetically, rubbing itself against Harry's leg. The whiteness of the room was getting to all of them. The two boys glanced over at their guide warily.

Gilderoy Lockhart beamed at them, arms flapping about in his huge strait-jacket sleeves. "So glad you could come visit me, boys. I rarely see anyone worthwhile anymore."

"I still don't see anyone worthwhile," Draco muttered. Harry elbowed him in the side and stepped forward.

"Okay, then, I guess we should get this show on the road, right? I mean, you must have other more pressing matters to attend to."

Lockhart thought for a minute, chewing on one of his sleeves. Then he smiled widely. "Nope nope!"

Draco grabbed Harry's arm. "You think we could just use the same spell again?"

"Naw, we'd probably only get someone like Umbridge next time around anyway."

Lockhart laughed heartily, hurting their ears. "Hahahahahahaaaa, not her! That woman doesn't have my sparkling personality, and she makes this strait-jacket look like a house-elf's old sock. Besides, she's a bit busy with the Honorary Centaur Awareness Convention in Glasgow right now."

"Oh, joy," Draco grumbled.

"But okay!" Lockhart threw his arms round all of them, including the mud, which gave a gleeful squeal and latched itself onto his neck. "I do have a lot to show you boys, so we'd better get a move on. Tell me... you're both still wizards, correct?"

"Yeeeaaahhhh....." Draco and Harry looked at each other. "Why?"

Lockhart laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. "Well, I may have to make use of one of your wands. Unless you have mine hidden somewhere in your robes."

Draco goggled at Lockhart and gripped his wand and his robes tightly in both hands. "No chance, psycho. On either count."

Harry shook his head. "Draco, your mind is even further in the gutter than Dumbledore's."

He handed Lockhart his own wand. The man got such a disappointed look on his face that Harry backtracked and thought very seriously about telling Draco that okay, he trusted his instincts now, please go ahead and hex the wacko in the strait-jacket for the love of god.

"What are you looking so sour for?" he asked timidly.

Lockhart glared at him. "This is not nearly as big as mine."

Harry frowned. "Cheap shot."

Draco hmphed. "Tell me about it."

There was a lot of flopping about, a few rather pathetic swear words from Lockhart, a wand flying across the room, an indignant "It will never do what you want it to if you don't give it a little love!" from Harry, and then a long whoosh, and they weren't in the white room anymore. They were in front of Hogwarts.

Draco scrutinized the school. "Hmm. Hogwarts looks the same. You've failed, I still want to be dead. Let's go."

Lockhart grabbed the back of his robes. "Wait for it..."

Suddenly a resounding boom shook the castle. The mud squeaked and gave a startled leap onto Draco's shoulder. They watched as smoke began pouring out of the lower windows on the right hand side.

Draco stared. "What in Sam hell was that?"

Lockhart spent several frenzied moments trying to get his arm free of his sleeve to check his watch, narrowly missing hitting Harry's face three times before giving up. "That would be one of Dumbledore's pranks, I suppose."

Harry frowned. "Pranks?"

"Oh, the old boy really has a lot of time on his hands without you around to protect. Always mussing about with someone else's personal things, giving them a distinctly... ah, offensive flavor... if you know what I mean. Gets howlers from the students' parents every other day screaming things about lewdness and mental corruption and unsanctioned Dark Arts classes. But I hear the curriculum's fun."

"So Dumbledore's still a perv," Draco said flatly.

Lockhart shrugged. "Yup. Really into toilet humor."

Draco shook his head. "You know, I would have stayed dead, just to fix that."

Lockhart chuckled and threw his arms up, finally smacking Harry across the face with one of his long sleeves. "Well, what can you do? Some folks are just blessed."

Draco chose not to comment. He tried to reassure the mud, which was slowly splotching its way over his robes.

Another explosion sounded, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Over at the lake, the giant squid crawled out of the water, yelled a few uncouth phrases, shook a furious tentacle at the castle, and wriggled off into the Forbidden Forest.

Harry grabbed Draco's arm and pointed with a shaking finger. "D-did you... did you s-see..."

"No, Harry, I never saw such a bizarre sight in my life, and if you try to convince me otherwise, I will sic the mud on you."

The mud wiggled happily, preparing for the possible leap. Harry thought it wise to remain silent.

* * *

They entered the castle, where Harry was almost immediately overrun by a rampaging Three-Headed Dog.

"Oof... egads...Fluffy?"

"Oh, is that his name? I wondered." Lockhart smiled and petted the dog, whose three heads were all licking him at once. "He's always liked me."

"No accounting for taste," Draco muttered.

"What is Fluffy doing here?" Harry asked.

Just then seven students ran by giggling madly, followed by no less than Fawkes the Phoenix, Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, a werewolf wearing professor's robes, and a giant basilisk wearing a pink polka-dotted blindfold. Draco blinked. "Um..."

Lockhart grinned and flung his strait-jacketed arms around the two boys, hitting them both in the face. "Smashing place, what? On account of the Weasley kids. They always manage to open some stupid chamber, or muss about with a forbidden corridor. Whoa, better back up, here come the skrewts."

They all hid behind a column as three Blast-Ended Skrewts scuttled by chattering. Harry peered after them. "It's a bloody zoo. What's going on?"

"Well, Dumbledore's always been a bit preoccupied with his dirty jokes. Her Royal Worship decreed that he should not be the only Headmaster here. She appointed Hagrid as well."

"Her Royal Worship?" Draco asked.

"We'll get to that in a bit," Lockhart said, thumping Draco soundly on the head.

Harry wandered over to a display on one of the walls. A sign reading "Hogwart's Teacher of the Month" hung over a row of brightly polished portraits. All of them were of an immaculate, grinning, laughing, pondering, or strutting Snape.

"Wow!" Harry cried. "Snape really takes care of himself with us not around."

The mud made oohing-and-ahhing sounds from its increasingly saturated perch on Draco's shoulder. Lockhart nodded his agreement. "Yes, I suppose he cleans up well, doesn't he? I wonder what one has to do exactly to be teacher of the month?"

Draco leered at Lockhart. "Got a yen for chocolate body frosting?"

Harry belted Draco in the gut and opted for the distraction tactic. "When did Snape get so handsome?"

"Well, with you gone in particular, Harry, he doesn't need to be the resident Hate-me-I'm-a-slimeball teacher now does he?" Lockhart frowned, studying the grinning, sparkling Snape. "Alright, no way in Hell you two are staying dead. Snape's smile is better than mine."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm sure no on cares about your smile."

Lockhart waggled a strait-jacketed arm at him. "Hope you've got a patent for all of that."

"Eh? Why?"

"Because of who we're going to see next. Now, Harry, if you would kindly grab hold of your wand and give it a good, strong shake--"

"Um, actually I would rather not--"

"Oh, it's really quite easy, here, let me show you."

The mud squealed and Draco clapped his hands over his eyes. He heard Harry's voice rising.

"No, thank you very much, but that is not necessary--"

"Oh, come now Harry, surely this is not the first time you've done this. A boy of your age?"

"Well, I certainly don't need to do it in front of--oh."

Draco peeked through his fingers at Harry, who was now holding his magic wand, looking very embarrassed. Lockhart was frowning at the boy, a perplexed look on his face.

"Goodness, you know I can't grip the wand correctly with my hands in these sleeves. Is it too much to ask that you give me a hand?"

Draco burst out laughing. Harry glowered at him. "Oh, shut up, Draco."

"Just as soon as you help him out."

"Why don't you give my wand a shot, Draco? I bet you are really good at this brand of magic," Harry said nastily.

Draco narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. The mud followed suit and ended up glomping itself into a little pile and falling off Draco's shoulder because it did not have eyes or arms.

"You'd better be glad I'm too virginal to know what you're talking about, Harry."

"Oh, it shows, Draco. It shows."

Lockhart interrupted impatiently. "Okay, any time, buddy. Got a schedule to keep. Oh, and Harry? Keep a good grip on that wand. It can get quite feisty you know."

Draco was snickering again. Harry sniffed. He wondered if the Fourth Unforgivable curse was still useless on a stupid virginal eunuch Slytherin who had never been born.

Whoosh...

* * *

"So, who is this supposed to be?" Draco asked. They were in the Ministry of Magic, standing in front of a massive set of wooden doors with pure silver handles. Lockhart flopped his sleeve in the direction of the golden nameplate to the right of the doors.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Harry cried. "Hermione is the Ruler of the Universe??"

Lockhart rolled his eyes (copyright the Grand High Pooba Hermione Granger, 2002), and nodded at Harry condescendingly. "Of course she is. You think the person who invented the Polyjuice Potion - copyright the Royal Vizier Hermione Granger, 1998 - would remain a mere unknown?"

"Wait a minute," Draco broke in. "She didn't invent Polyjuice!"

Lockhart flung out his arm, stuffing his sleeve in Draco's mouth. "Don't speak so loud, she'll hear you! Use a silencing charm--copyright the Heiress of Isildur Hermione Granger, 1999--at least."

"Heiress of Whosit?" Harry asked.

Draco detangled Lockhart's sleeve from his teeth. "Finally, someone who hasn't seen that bloody movie."

"Copyright the Great Oz Hermione Granger, 2003!" Lockhart hissed, exasperated.

"Now, wait just a minute--"

Suddenly a pompous know-it-all bushy-haired voice floated through the heavy wooden doors. "Weatherby! Write me an addendum to the Unneutered Hippogriffs Abolition Act of 2004. Get rid of that loophole concerning team mascots and hippogriff impotency."

"Your glorious highness, my name is Percy Weasley, if you please."

"Don't get fresh, Weatherby. I've just copyrighted your name anyway."

Harry pressed his ear to the door. "Is that possible? To copyright names?"

"Just how the hell did Granger get to be Ruler of the bloody Universe?" Draco asked.

Lockhart wrapped Harry in a big stifling hug, ignoring the boy's muffled screeches. "All thanks to this fine young man! He was never there for her to constantly bale him out of every obtuse situation he got himself into. Instead, she spent two years whizzing through Hogwarts, and usurped the position of Minister of Magic - copyright the Minister of Magic Hermione Granger, 1997 - when she was thirteen, in what would have been a marvelous coup if she hadn't come up with the title herself."

"She didn't come up with that title!" Draco yelled.

Lockhart raised an eyebrow. "Try telling her that. The last person to do so was Alastor Moody. She knocked his eye out, chewed off his leg, and shoved him into his own traveling chest."

"Seems to be his fate in any timeline," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, well, you weren't here to set it in motion this time, so the Dowager Empress Hermione Granger had to do it."

"Excuse me," Draco said testily. "Does my existence matter at all in these proceedings? Maybe the world would be better if Harry here croaked and you sent me home."

Harry growled. "Hey!"

Lockhart let out a painfully raucous guffaw. "Funny you should say that, young man... Oh, Harry... time to give that wand a go again!"

"Oh, bloody hell, not now! I'm tired, you great big - oh."

Whoosh.

* * *

Harry pointed shakily. "Does. That. Say. What. I. Think. It. Says?"

Lockhart perused the sign over the door to the Hogsmeade candy shop. "Yup... Well, wait, what were you thinking? Just to be absolutely sure."

"Certainly not 'Voldemort's Shoppe of Sinful Sweets!'"

Draco frowned. "Yes, you have got to be kidding."

Lockhart frowned back. "Hey, don't knock 'em till you've tried 'em."

Harry pushed his way through the front doors. "I have got to see this."

A well-groomed man with adorable black bottomless evil snakey eyes smiled at them from behind the counter. "Well, hullo! Good to see you! Welcome to my shoppe. That's shoppe, with an extra 'p-e'. Care for a free sample? I've only just introduced this new product."

He swept a plate of candy bits from under the counter. The tag said "Death by Poisoned Chocolate".

"Uh," Harry asked, "do these actually kill you?"

Voldemort looked at him as if he had gone crazy. "What a silly question! Of course not."

Draco wandered around the store. "Tongue-Tearing Toffees... Fermented Frogs... Bertie Botts' Every Ailment Beans? People actually buy this stuff?"

Voldemort shrugged and nodded. He popped a piece of chocolate into his mouth. "All the rage these days. I tried to sell my old stock, but no one wanted anything as cutesy as a Chocolate Frog or a Fizzing Whizbee, so I just repackaged them with scary names. They don't really hurt you. Teenagers just want to eat dangerously. So adorable."

He gave a chuckling sigh and shook his head. "Kids."

"So," Harry said, "you're not trying to kill everyone and take over the world?"

"Gracious, no!" Voldemort looked shocked. "How could you think that of me? I'll have you know I have been given royal sanction by Hermione Granger the Warrior Princess to run this candy store. Best thing I've ever done, kept me off the evil streets! Oh, look, more visitors! How lovely!"

A mother and daughter had entered the shop. Voldemort bustled over to help them poke through a stack of Mushed Ice Lice.

"Is this because I wasn't here to be bothered with?" Harry asked curiously.

"No, no, no," Lockhart laughed. "He was actually supposed to follow his family line and be an evil wizard anyway, take over the world, kill everyone in sight... you know the drill. But there was no one he could find to follow his work after he was gone. You see, Lucius Malfoy is good enough as a simpering henchman, but he didn't have a son for Voldemort to cackle and plot about, so the old boy decided he could make more of a profit being a good wizard selling delicious candies and befriending people everywhere."

"Oh, that's clever," Harry said sarcastically. He glanced at Draco, who was currently puffing himself up like a rooster and bowing to an imaginary crowd, grinning his best evil grin. "He wanted him to succeed him? Are you sure Voldemort wasn't planning to fail miserably from the beginning?"

Draco's voice sounded faintly. "...oh, thank you, Your Darkness, I never expected to be chosen... such a prestigious and evil honor..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, so who else have we mucked up by not being born?"

Lockhart was interrupted by Draco, who walked over looking concerned. "You know, I think we should go see someone having to do with this little fellow."

He pointed at the mud sitting on his now-completely-stained shoulder. "He's been fidgety ever since we left the Ministry. Is there a way he's changed things by not being here?"

Lockhart tried to pet the mud and ended up smacking it right off Draco's shoulder with his sleeve. "Oh, sorry down there! Yes, actually, there is someone we could go see. She's right here in town, in fact."

They all left the sweet shoppe. Voldemort waved cheerfully as they went. "Do come again! I have a whole new order coming in on Wednesday."

Draco waved back. Harry nudged him. "So, I suppose now you want to go back to normal so you can rule the world and all that?"

Draco shrugged. "Actually, I think this is quite lovely... those Death by Poisoned Chocolate things are scrumptious."

* * *

When they entered the Three Broomsticks, the mud gave a joyful shriek and bounced on Draco's shoulder. Draco petted it soothingly. "Yes, there she is, sweetie-pie. Mummy's right over there. Bet she'll be glad to see you."

Bellatrix Lestrange sat at the long bar nursing a foaming mug of beer. The group made its way over to her, but halted when she gave a forlorn sigh and slumped her head into her arms.

"Rosmerta!" she called out in a heavily slurred voice. "I need something... um... stronger!"

Rosmerta bustled out from the back with a cup full of something that was sending sparks high into the air. "Try this, love."

"Thanks, Rosie... Honestly, I don't... eh... know how Voldemort... er... stands that sweet shop-puh, day in and day out. Running that... gah... Zonko's place is really getting to me."

Bellatrix swirled her new cup in front of her eyes drunkenly. "You ever get the... uh... suspicion that you are supposed to be doing something else, Rosmerta?"

"Can't say I have, dear," Rosmerta answered blandly.

"I just get this... erm... feeling that I'm missing... hm... something." Bellatrix's eyes crossed in concentration, and she suddenly slammed her mug down on the counter, missed, and bashed herself in the knee instead. "Oh ... something... hell! That... whatsit... hurt! Rosie, do you know any more... uh... bad words? I seem to have misplaced a rather ... whosit... good one."

The mud gave a sorrowful wail. Harry and Draco looked at each other in disbelief. "No mucking way..."

Lockhart chuckled. "You better believe it. Your little friend here is nonexistent like you after all."

"So..." Draco pondered slowly. "No mud wrestling ring?"

"Nope."

"No nude Transfiguration?" Harry asked.

"Not with Voldemort."

"No one knows I'm a virgin?" Draco wondered.

"No virginity to hide, m'dear. You don't exist."

"Hermione's doing a good job?" Harry said.

"As good as can be expected."

"No Evil Dark Lord?" Draco queried.

"What, that sweet man?"

"And no mud wrestling ring?"

"Didn't we cover this?"

"Sorry. Just checking."

Draco turned to Harry. "Seems to me that, compared with what happened before, this is pretty tame and peaceful."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. What's the loss of one little cuss word in the face of all the good we can accomplish?"

The mud got very quiet. Rosmerta and Bellatrix's voices broke in faintly.

"What about slapper, Bellatrix, dear?"

"Hmm, slapped, slapping, slappage... No, no, confound it! It's not... arg... the same!"

Lockhart frowned at them worriedly. "Oh, hell, you aren't going to undo the spell are you?"

Harry and Draco smiled at him widely, and Harry handed his wand to Lockhart. "Nope! Seems to me they've got a good thing going here. Make us permanently nonexistent."

They were interrupted by a low growl. Draco lightly swatted at the mud on his shoulder. "Oh, it'll be okay, buddy. I know it's a sacrifice but it's all for the best."

The mud snarled suddenly and ballooned to twice its normal size. Draco yelped. "Now, wait a minute, I only meant--"

With a roar, the mud leaped on top of Lockhart, splattering all over his body. The two of them grappled for the wand. Lockhart's muffled voice could be heard.

"No, no! They don't want to go back!"

Grawrrrrr...

"Yes, I know they are not the only ones at stake here but..."

Rrrrrrrrrrrowwllllllll!!

"Excuse you! Watch where you stick that, you great beastly thing!"

Owoooooooooooo!

"You'll what? Oh, lordy... Okay, okay! I'll do it!"

Harry and Draco barely had time to be horrified when there was a flash of light and a triumphant wail from the mud. Then they had even more time to be horrified because they were back in the mud-wrestling arena. Ginny was leaping about in the mud, chucking fistfuls of it at everyone, no clothing in sight. Bellatrix Lestrange was shouting stats over the yelling of all the spectators.

"The-Boy-Who-Mucking-Lived and Draco Whose-Your-Mucking-Daddy Malfoy, both students at that mucking excuse for a mucking school Hogwarts. Sixteen mucking years old, delightful muckers at Transfiguration... Oh muck it, who the muck cares? Ride him, Wormy!"

Wormtail lunged forward and grabbed Draco around the ankle.

"Omigod, Harrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!"

Draco was lifted and swung up over Wormtail's head. Bubba gave a croak of delight and buffeted them both with his wings. Harry knew he only had seconds to act before his poor mind was so corrupted he would implode on the spot.

He grabbed Draco's broomstick from where it was leaning against the side of the ring and chucked it at Bubba. The hippogriff gave a screech of joy and began prodding Wormtail's backside with the end of it. Wormtail dropped Draco into the muck and leaped on the hippogriff with a snarl. The mud swept up, roaring at the top of its... well, lungs, for lack of a better word, and covered them both.

Draco staggered to his feet. He checked over his body at least twice, mumbling to himself. "Smutty... blasted unneutered hippogriffs... if there is anything where it shouldn't be, so help me..."

"Draco! Come on!"

Draco blinked and looked at Harry, who sat upon his Firebolt, beckoning. He frowned.

"Harry, for the last time, I am not riding your broomstick, thank you very much!"

Harry ground his teeth. "Oh, yes you are, Draco, if you want to keep your flawless virginal sex appeal intact!"

"You think I'm sexy?"

"Get on my broomstick this instant!"

Draco grinned slyly. "Well, since you put it that way..."

"Wait, wha-?"

Draco jumped astride the Firebolt and hugged Harry in a vice-like grip. "Gun it already, Boy Wonder!"

Judging from Draco's words and interesting invasion of his personal space, Harry decided not to give himself time to think about what was in store for them next chapter. He kicked off from the ground and "gunned" them the hell out of there.

As it happened, the next chapter took one look, thought Oh mucking Bejeezus, and ignored them completely.