HARRY POTTER AND THE FLACK-JACKET MAFIA
(Note to TLAS readers -- this fic takes place instead of
Tour of Duty. For Potterfans, this is sort of my crossover answer to Order of
the
(Scene: McIntyre Manor, kitchen. Carol is sitting at the
kitchen table, leafing through a bunch of coupons. AP comes in, looking a
little sad and apprehensive.)
AP: Hey ... Mom?
CAROL: (not looking up) Yes, dear?
AP: Just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving for
CAROL: Didn't you do that?
AP: Last Christmas, Mom. We're gonna stay at Purple Peril's
aunt's again.
CAROL: Purple...?
AP: (sigh) Lynn Cullen, Mom.
CAROL: Oh, your little girlfriend...
AP: (wince) -*No*-, Mom. See, first I went out with -*her*-
and then she moved and then -*we*- moved and then I went out with... (begins to
realise that the concept even confuses -*him*-) Never mind.
CAROL: (whose mind has drifted elsewhere) You said
AP: (sad) Yeah, Mom.
CAROL: Well, you should probably drop in on Arthur while
you're there.
AP: (fear; "is she taking a turn for the worse?")
Who?
CAROL: Arthur, dear. My brother. I haven't seen him in ...
oh, the -*longest*- time. I don't even remember...
AP: (looking askance at her) I guess, Mom. Where does ...
Uncle Arthur live?
CAROL: I think his address is with your father's little
black phone book. But he wouldn't like you looking in there, so...
AP: Don't worry, Mom. I'll find ... Uncle Arthur.
CAROL: Oh, and send my love, will you? I haven't seen him in
-*ever*- so long...
AP: Sure, Mom, no problem...
(He steps out of the kitchen and into the main hall. As he
exits, he stops and shakes his head in utter confusion.
AP: (mutter to himself) Uncle -*Arthur*-?
(He spies Fred asleep on the sofa, and his briefcase on the
armchair near the front door. He flips it open and digs, finding the little
black phone book in question. He scribbles out a note on a Post-It and drops
the book as Fred stirs and grumbles his way awake. AP shuts the briefcase, but
too late to escape detection.)
FRED: What are you doing in my briefcase, Andrew?
AP: Uuuhhhh... Looking for Post-Its! I needed a few for an
experiment I'm working on cos if I don't mark which is which I'm gonna...
FRED: Okay, okay, that's enough! Now can I go back to my nap
without worrying about you rocking the house on its foundations?
AP: Sure, dad! (big grin)
FRED: I don't know about you sometimes, Andrew.
AP: No one does! That's half the fun! (Fred groans and
settles down. AP steels himself, then...) Dad?
FRED: (eyes still closed) -*What*-, Andrew?
AP: I met your sisters, but I never met any of Mom's family.
Doesn't she have any brothers or sisters anywhere?
FRED: (emphatic) No. And keep an eye on your mother if she
ever starts mentioning ... things like that. It could be signs that she's
getting unstable again.
AP: (looking askance at his dad this time) Right, Dad. Sure.
I'll see you later.
(Fred settles down to his nap as AP tromps up to his room.)
*** Now talking in #dv8s
*** Topic is 'If you wanted affection, buy a puppy. We
bite.'
*** Set by Purple_Peril on Jun 27
<Psycho-Maverick> Hey ho, Purple Peril...
<Purple_Peril> Salutations, Maverick. You 'sound'
dubious about something.
<Psycho-Maverick> I am, kinda.
<Purple_Peril> Do I have to *pry* it out of you?
<Psycho-Maverick> Noooo... see, you know I thought MOm
didn't have any sis' or bros or anything?
<Purple_Peril> Yeah. Turns out she does or something?
<Psycho-Maverick> Yeah. In ENGALND.
<Purple_Peril> *chuckle* Your typing sometimes...
<Psycho-Maverick> I'm upset, K? I got the news that I
got an uncle!
<Psycho-Maverick> & 7 cousins!
<Psycho-Maverick> IN *
<Purple_Peril> Okay, okay, calm down.
<Psycho-Maverick> But dad lied to me about it too! he
said that mom didn't nave any bros or anythign & if she told me she did he
might have yer locked up!
<Purple_Peril> CHILL!
<Purple_Peril> You know where these people live?
<Psycho-Maverick> Yeah. They don't have a phone or an
email or anything, so I guess I better send a telegram or sommethign.
<Purple_Peril> To...?
<Psycho-Maverick> Let em know i'm coming! I gotta MEET
em, Peril!
<Purple_Peril> Well ... I'm sure there are B&Bs in
... wherever.
<Purple_Peril> We can do that, sure.
<Psycho-Maverick> Cool! & uit;s ... Ottery St
Catchpole.
<Purple_Peril> Ottery ... St Catchpole?
<Psycho-Maverick> Yeah! Heard of it?
<Purple_Peril> Think Lorna mentioned it. Once.
<Purple_Peril> What are their names? I never did ask
Carol's maiden.
<Psycho-Maverick> Says here Weasley. Arthur and Molly
Weasley.
<Purple_Peril> O_O
<Psycho-Maverick> ?
<Purple_Peril> Nothing. Just something I saw
somewhere.
<Purple_Peril> I have to go. I have to make a call.
<Purple_Peril> Pizza King. Eight.
*** Purple_Peril has quit #dv8s (Quit: "Beautify
<Psycho-Maverick> ...you have a DSL connection...
<Psycho-Maverick> Drat.
(Scene: Pizza King, evening. AP is sitting at their booth,
poking ice to the bottom of a cup of soda with his straw. Enter Jane,
sketchbook under her arm. She stops short when she sees AP.)
JANE: She called you too, huh?
AP: Nah. -*I*- was on IRC with her.
JANE: Oh. (beat) AP, you know there -*is*- a little
invention called the phone? Very convenient, and you don't have to push as many
buttons?
AP: Well, yeah, but my phone line's always tied up with the
'puter anyway. Besides, typing I can do. With a spell check. It's handwriting
that's a bitch.
JANE: I gotta give you that. (sits down) So do you know
what's going on this time?
AP: Nope. Not a clue. You expect -*me*- to know? (bitter
grumble) I mean, I've only been her best friend since we were running around
keeping Chris Hutchins from beating the crap outta us...
JANE: Well, if it makes you feel any better, she's hiding
stuff from her own sister.
AP: Been there, done that...
JANE: Ate the T-shirt?
AP: Ha. (beat) Seriously. Mom just told me I have an uncle
and some cousins in
JANE: (blink) Another mystery afoot? Sheesh, when are we
calling in Robert Stack?
AP: Dunno, but I think it's beginning to suck.
(enter
JANE: Oh, she had to get around Quinn ... something about,
if she can be in a school play, she -*must*- want to look good -*some*- of the
time. She's gonna rat out Quinn's last scheme for staying out past curfew and
wait for the fireworks, then run like hell.
AP: Purple Peril? What's going on? I mean, what happened to
that tour of the
JANE: Yeah. I hope you realise I'm only going along on this
(Enter Daria, looking annoyed, carrying a bag.)
DARIA: I'm staying at one of your houses tonight, no
questions asked.
DARIA: Somehow I got blamed for the window breaking.
JANE: Whoa! You went -*
DARIA: I didn't -*do*- anything...
(Flashback to Morgendorffer living room. Daria steps
downstairs with Quinn trailing after her, arms flailing as she rants.)
QUINN: Daria, you don't under-*stand*-! When you were in
that school play thing, you had to wear makeup and look attractive, right?
DARIA: If by "attractive", you mean something the
audience could immediately dismiss to get on to the actual acting ... correct.
QUINN: Look, even -*you*- have to admit that they made you
look -*better*- and everything. So can't you see that you -*should*- have to
look good -*normally*-?
DARIA: "Normally"? I never thought I'd hear you
admit that there are special occasions where fashion can take a firm backseat.
QUINN: EWW! Don't you know me at all, Daria?
DARIA: Unfortunately, yes. But on the plus side, knowing
your opponent is an advantage in any battle of wits, even when your opponent is
practically unarmed.
QUINN: (probably didn't understand it; moving on) Anyway,
It's not like that freaky
DARIA: (frowning; raising her arms slightly to emphasise her
own outfit) Excuse me...
QUINN: I mean, she goes around being -*rude*- to people and
-*fine*-, maybe she -*did*- help me get some money for some new clothes and I
guess she -*did*- make sure you got -*some*- kind of boyfriend by talking to
that ... that -*thing*- you were seeing... (Daria frowns again and begins to
clench her fists. She is, quite obviously, approaching that state known as
Grand High Piss-Off.) But I mean, -*seriously*-, I don't know -*why*- you hang
out with her; she's a -*psycho*-!
DARIA: Maybe because, unlike -*some*- of my blood relatives,
she doesn't railroad over everything I have to say.
QUINN: Well, if you even -*listened*- to me ever, you'd have
a -*lot*- more friends. Instead of that freaky art girl and that psycho other
sister and that ... that -*thing*-.
(Daria's fists clench that little bit tighter and two
windows behind Quinn shatter. Daria blinks, unclenches her fists and steps back
in the same movement, looking startled and completely confused.)
JAKE: (Offscreen) -*Damnit*-! We just replaced those windows
a -*month*- ago!
QUINN: Don't blame -*me*-, Daddy! (little smirk at Daria) I
bet Daria and that little freak girl who looks like her rigged them to, like,
explode or something.
HELEN: (OS) -*DARIA*-! You get in here right -*now*-, young
lady!
(Daria shoots a shocked look at Quinn, who smirks like a
snake and walks off. End flashback and return to Pizza King, where Jane and AP
are staring at Daria in bewilderment.
JANE: What's with -*her*-?
AP: I'm thinking either trouble in paradise or she's on
the... (cuts his eyes to
DARIA: Actually, things with Ted are fine. That's kind of
the problem. He's basically decided to focus his attentions on his biological
daughter and Quinn's resenting it. Not that she isn't using it to her advantage
when she can, but he's starting to put real pressure on her about Ted. To be
honest, even without today's surprise attack, I'll be glad to get out of the house
for awhile.
JANE: Great idea, seeing as all we know is the date we're
flying out...
DARIA: Yeah; we don't even know how long we're -*staying*-
yet.
DARIA: Dad's starting to get ... persistent. He might not
let me go, the way things are going.
(Daria's turn to look away.)
AP: So what's the plan?
AP: -*What*-?
DARIA/JANE: (unison) Where?
AP: Ottery St Catchpole. That's where my uncle Arthur lives.
DARIA: Since when do -*you*- have an uncle Arthur?
AP: Since forever, seems like, but Mom only told me this
afternoon. Why are we going there?
AP: Butbutbutbutbut...
JANE: Motorbut.
(Daria, Jane and AP facefault at her.
DARIA: Okay. And we leave in two days?
JANE: You're buying.
(
(Scene: Heathrow airport. Lorna waiting -- she's in
eveningwear, her hair's a little tousled and her makeup is ever so slightly
smudged. AP struggling with a luggage cart behind a sick-looking Daria, an
excited Jane and an outwardly calm Lynn, who raises an eyebrow at Lorna's
appearance.)
LORNA: Oh, I -*could*- have, probably, but it's the
proliferation of sensitive new-age men. They just don't feel right unless they
get to serve the lady tea in the morning.
DARIA: Tea sounds really, -*really*- good right about now.
JANE: Could you maybe just drop me off at Tate Modern? I
hear there's a Hirst exhibit...
LORNA: Sorry, but you'll have to get there yourself. By the
time we get back, I'll have -*just*- enough time to shower and make myself
presentable before I meet my appointment and then I -*have*- stop by the bank
-- those irritating little goblins are giving me gyp about my business account.
(She snatches the luggage cart from AP and stalks off. Daria
looks at Lynn a little oddly.)
DARIA: Irritating little ... goblins?
LYNN: (sounding tired) Don't the British have the most
interesting expressions?
(With that, she stalks off after Lorna. Jane *poing*s off
after her, visions of bisected cows in tanks of formaldehyde dancing in her
head. AP, equally oblivious, follows them and Daria, after shaking off the
seriousness with which Lorna mentioned goblins, does the same.)
(Scene: Smythe living room. Daria steps out of a room and
into the hallway, noticing Lynn and Lorna seated in the living room, having a
quiet conversation. Daria, frowning, inches closer.)
LORNA: I take it you -*still*- haven't told them?
LYNN: And it's the easiest thing in the world to break to
people? Think what we're -*related*- to.
LORNA: Dear girl. Even the most oblivious get the news with
that silly yellow letter, or at least one just like it, when they turn eleven.
You weren't granted the same dubious courtesy, or even an owl from your father,
but they should at least know. It's not as though they're Mug...
(And Jane slams out the same door, nearly knocking into
Daria.)
JANE: Whoops.
(Daria turns to the living room. The conversation has
officially broken up. Daria slams a fist onto the floor, at which Jane raises
an eyebrow.)
(Scene: the Intrepid Fox, Soho -- a pub. Its main features
are a] scarred wood furniture b] rock band posters covering every square inch
of wall c] leftover Hallowe'en decorations and d] statuary made out of old auto
parts -- a spider hovering over the bar and a crucifixion scene in the corner.
It's next to this latter that Daria, Jane and AP are sitting.)
AP: "Mugs"?
DARIA: Well, that's how they've been treating us. And I
can't think of any other way of finishing the word.
AP: -*Mug*-gee, -*mug*-gyver, -*mug*-gruff?
JANE: Don't make it painful. (to the stares) Big men in dog
suits and trenchcoats... (she shivers)
DARIA: (let’s move on from this) -*Anyway*-. It's the
comment about the owl that confused me ... unless the Smythe family business is
a bird sanctuary.
JANE: Who knows? Maybe it's a family expression.
DARIA: (raised eyebrow) You mean like "goblins" at
the bank?
AP: Well, what else is it gonna be? I mean, it's not like
there are gonna be real goblins or real owls, right?
DARIA: I guess you're right. But this is one strange thing
too many.
LYNN: (approaching with drinks) This is London. There are no
limits to the strange things that go on around here.
AP: We weren't talking about that; we were talking about...
JANE: (interrupting but not changing the subject, exactly)
Hey, how long a drive is it to Ottery St Catchpole?
LYNN: A few hours; why?
DARIA: Good. That gives you a captive audience while you
tell us what's been going on with you lately.
LYNN: Well, you'll be a captive audience, all right, but I somehow
doubt that's what you'll be listening to from me. (to the quizzical look)
Remember what I had to say the -*last*- time I drove in this country?
(Off Daria's "Oh, Christ, I wish I didn't" look,
smash cut to...)
(Scene: the open road. Lorna's yellow van roars past at a
speed that far exceeds the posted speed limit.)
(Scene: Van interior. Lynn driving. Daria shotgun. Jane and
AP in the back with the luggage. The three passengers are looking a little
pale; Lynn's slightly flushed but calming faster than the others are.)
LYNN: Feeling better?
DARIA: What is it with you and British roads? You're fine in
Lawndale...
LYNN: Ever seen me at Seven Corners?
DARIA: No...
AP: And you don't wanna, believe me. The swearing's a little
better but it's more with the near-death. She once came close to rear-ending
some goofball of a guy in a red jeep.
DARIA & JANE: Kevin.
LYNN: Well, he deserved it. He just plain stopped...
JANE: STOP THE CAR!
(Scene: open fields. Van stops and Jane leaps out the back.
Daria, Lynn and AP follow, bewildered. Jane has dragged out with some pastels
and a sketchpad.)
DARIA: Muse attack. I should've known.
JANE: I never see fields like this back home! We're almost
there; it's not like we're going to be late!
(She steps into the field and approaches some hedges,
looking around. She turns to the others.)
JANE: This is a perfect spot; I swear, it'll take five
minutes ... well, maybe fifteen. I want to sketch that weird-looking house
over...
(She starts pointing to a really eclectic-looking house and
is hit full in the face by something small, brown and screaming. Jane starts
screaming herself as the others step back -- even Lynn is nonplussed.)
GNOME: Gerroff me! Gerroff me!
JANE: You gerroff -*me*-! I mean -*get*- off me!
(As Jane manages to grab a hold of the gnome and fling it
off behind her, a red-haired boy looks over the hedges and facefaults.)
BOY: Oh, bugger ... uh ... (the boy raises a wand and points
it at Jane.)
JANE: What the...
LYNN: (panic; she knows what he's about to do) Oh, for the
love of God, Weasely, don't...
BOY: Obliviate!
(Jane's face suddenly takes on a blank look.)
LYNN: (resigned) ...use a Memory Charm...
DARIA: (running over to Jane, concerned) Jane? JANE?
JANE: I'm standing in a field. (beat) Why am I standing in a
field?
LYNN: (to the boy) Which one are you?
BOY: George. Who're -*you*-?
LYNN: Lynn Cullen ... Smythe. One of your visitors. She's a
-*witch*-, you ... pillock!
GEORGE: You what?
DARIA: Lynn? What medication did you not take?
(Fred and Ron run over to join George at the hedges.)
RON: Oh, George, you know we're not supposed to do magic
outside school! You'll have us in it up to our necks! And what are you doing
carrying your wand around -*anyway*-?
FRED: After that business at the World Cup, Ron? Are you
-*mental*-?
GEORGE: And you think the Ministry -*wants*- Muggles running
around telling people about being hit by garden gnomes? And I don't mean those
miniature Father Christmases.
LYNN: She's Muggle-born, yes, but she's not a Muggle, you
... you daft prat!
DARIA: What's a Muggle? What are you talking about? (beat)
And I take it you're the Weasleys?
AP: -*You're*- my cousins? (beat; looking at the three
freckle-faced redheads) I guess I can see that, yeah.
LYNN: (to Daria, Jane and AP) Okay, I'll give you the
basics. We're witches. Well, apart from you, AP; you're a wizard. And this ...
this -*pillock*- just wiped Jane's memory.
GEORGE: I wasn't to know, was I? I mean, you all look ...
well, so much like Muggles!
AP: What in the name of whatever is a -*Muggle*-? I'm not
-*that*- bad with words...
JANE: (still dazed) I didn't get drunk again, did I? I
-*said*- I was never going to drink again...
LYNN: Can we explain this inside? I think Jane needs
caffeine ... or a Wit-Sharpening potion ... or -*something*-.
FRED: Yeah ... that'd be right. Come on, you lot.
GEORGE: Yeah, c'mon; I think we -*all*- have some explaining
to do.
(Scene: The Burrow. Fred and Ron enter the house, followed
by Daria and Lynn, who are supporting a dazed-looking Jane. George and AP
follow them. Molly looks up from her cooking with a smile.)
MOLLY: Oh, you're here! I'm ever so glad to meet you
finally, Andrew dear...
AP: Uh ... I like AP. It's a nickname.
MOLLY: Oh. Sorry. Uh ... is something the matter with your
friend?
FRED: We thought she was a Muggle!
GEORGE: -*We*- didn't know we were having visitors!
FRED: Even -*she*- didn't know she was a witch; how were
-*we*- supposed to?
GEORGE: We were degnoming and she got one of Ron's in the
face.
FRED: We needed to practice 'Obliviate' anyway, so if the
Restriction of Underage Magic people come calling...
MOLLY: But ... she didn't -*know*-?
LYNN: (guilt personified) None of them did. Except for me.
DARIA: Wait. -*ALL*- of us? You're telling us we're a wizard
and three witches?
LYNN: I -*said*-, didn't I?
DARIA: I was a little more worried about Jane than you
saying weird stuff about 'Muggles', Lynn.
JANE: But there's no such -*thing*- as witches, Daria. You
and Lynn -*proved*- that ... right?
DARIA: Case. Rested.
MOLLY: Oh dear. Perhaps I should let Arthur explain this to
you. I'll just contact him by Floo; I'm sure the Ministry won't mind if this is
an emergency...
(Molly bustles distractedly out of the room, leaving Ron,
Fred and George staring at the new arrivals.)
RON: So you're our cousin?
AP: Yeah. Dad's an accountant for a firm somewhere in the
US.
FRED: -*He*- must be the one we don't talk about!
GEORGE: No, that's a -*second*- cousin.
AP: No, Mom's your dad's sister.
RON: What, the one that never sends owls to Dad anymore?
AP: 'Owls'? The only owl I've ever seen really close is the
stuffed one in Dad's office.
(Ron, Fred and George look at each other.)
GEORGE: It ... wasn't a barn owl, was it?
FRED: About a six-foot wingspan?
GEORGE: Little white spot on its forehead?
AP: Yeah...
FRED: The git killed Raine!
GEORGE: Last time we saw that owl was after Dad sent her out
to Aunt Carol. He'd invited her to visit. We were really little and no one got
why Dad never got word back.
FRED: Dad thought she'd died or something. (beat) Your
father's a pillock, you know that?
DARIA: I'm not sure exactly what a "pillock" is,
but I can only assume that it's too soft a term for what Fred McIntyre is.
FRED: He's called -*what*-? (beat) I never -*used*- to hate
my name, but with -*that*- pillock using it...
AP: (looking really guilty) Uhh...
GEORGE: Well, we can always just call you Gred.
FRED: Shut it, Forge.
RON: (let's change the subject) And you're Lynn and Daria
Smythe?
DARIA: Morgendorffer.
LYNN: Yes.
FRED: Dad mentions your dad sometimes. You don't hear much
about Aurors in Misuse of Muggle Artefacts, but the Order of the Phoenix is
historical and that!
DARIA: Order of the... No. I at least know all those words.
Aurors?
RON: Dark wizard-hunters. Since You-Know-Who has been on the
rise again...
DARIA: -*I*- don't know who...
LYNN: Lord Voldemort. (Ron, Fred and George flinch) The most
powerful Dark wizard in a thousand years. He's back and his main ambition is to
kill Harry Potter -- 'The Boy Who Lived'. (to Daria's lost look) It's in all
the history books, but Dad told me most of this awhile ago.
RON: And if he kills Harry, he'll go on to take over the
wizarding world!
JANE: I don't get this. You're telling me that there are
witches and wizards all over the place and one of them is set to take over the
world. And I'm supposed to -*believe*- this? It all sounds like something out
of a book.
FRED: We'd show you, but...
GEORGE: We're not supposed to use magic outside of school.
LYNN: You used a Memory Charm on Jane and the Ministry has
yet to beat a path to your door. Trust me; it'll be fine. Or, if you're
-*that*- worried...
(Lynn grabs George's wand, which he never let go of, and
waves it at a milk jug on the table.)
LYNN: Wingardium Leviosa!
(The milk jug rises into the air, somewhat shakily. Daria,
AP and Jane just stare.)
RON: Wicked! I had the worst time with that one to start
with.
AP: Uh ... do I wanna know how you did that? (beat) Oh,
hell, what am I saying, of COURSE I wanna know how you did that!
LYNN: You'll learn. You can do this too, if you put your
mind to it.
JANE: Whoa. Cool!
LYNN: Ladies and gentleman. Welcome to the wizarding world.
(Enter a tired-looking Arthur Weasley with Molly.)
ARTHUR: Hallo... (spots AP) Um...
AP: Hey ho, Uncle Arthur!
ARTHUR: ...Uncle...? You must be ... Carol's boy. Andrew,
isn't it?
AP: AP, actually. But yeah, that'd be me. And that's my ...
um ... friend Lynn, her sister Daria, and Jane.
DARIA: Hey.
JANE: Yo!
LYNN: Nice meeting you, sir. Dad talks about you.
FRED: She's Jerome Smythe's daughter.
ARTHUR: Oh my. I suppose we have some things to talk about.
Molly?
MOLLY: Uh ... why don't you go through to the sitting room
and I'll make tea. Ginny?
GINNY: Oh, but -*Mum*-...
MOLLY: But me no buts, young lady.
(Molly keeps a hand on Ginny's shoulder as the entire gang
move out of the kitchen.)
(Scene: Weasely sitting room. Daria, Jane, Lynn AP have
crammed themselves onto the sofa. Arthur is seated tiredly in an armchair. Ron,
Fred and George have taken seats on the floor.)
ARTHUR: So how much has been explained to you all?
JANE: Well, -*most*- of us don't know -*anything*-. Hell,
I'd be happy enough to know how I -*got*- here.
ARTHUR: Well ... it appears -*you're*- a Muggle-born. It's a
little surprising, I grant you, that you all got together, but I suppose like
calls to like.
DARIA: And ... the Order of the Phoenix?
LYNN: It's a group of Aurors -- the dark wizard hunters
mentioned earlier. They were set up by my grandfather Gerald some years back.
They called him the Phoenix because of ... well, you won't know about Animagi
yet, but let's just say he could turn -*into*- one. The Smythes were the
founders of that group of Aurors and we've been involved with them ever since.
AP: (grinning) It's like the Force, isn't it? (to the looks)
Well, it -*is*-! Magic runs -*strong*- in your family.
ARTHUR: So it would appear.
DARIA: Let me get this straight. You're a witch. And yet you
need guns to defend yourself?
FRED: "Guns"?
RON: Metal wands Muggles use to kill each other. Remember,
from the Prophet report on Sirius Black?
LYNN: (sigh) I'm a witch with no wand, little training and
against a Muggle under the Imperius curse?
AP: The -*who*-?
ARTHUR: Well, you see, there are three Unforgivable Curses.
Imperio puts you under the control of the person who casts it on you.
JANE: We're lucky Ms. Li couldn't use that one.
LYNN: Why do you think Li did what she did in the first
place?
(They all facefault.)
AP: She ... she ... who ... muuuuuh...
ARTHUR: It would have been a Death Eater that did that to
your headmistress.
JANE: Death. It's what's for dinner?
LYNN: Servants of Voldemort.
(Weasleys wince.)
FRED: Say 'You-Know-Who', will you?
LYNN: Why? It's just a name.
AP: (grin) "That which we call a rose"...
DARIA: That's not your line, AP.
LYNN: Can we stay on the subject, please?
DARIA: So. Three Unforgivable Curses. What are the other two
like?
ARTHUR: One -- Crucio -- is pain. The other...
LYNN: Avada Kedavra. Instant death.
JANE: The wizarding equivalent of a nuke?
LYNN: No, more specific. And a lot harder to arm. There's no
fighting that one ... but the Order started by teaching me how to defend myself
against Muggles under the Imperius curse. So that the Jackboot Affair didn't
happen again.
JANE: Whoa.
ARTHUR: And now I suppose it's time for -*all*- of you to
learn how to use the powers you have.
LYNN: I have a question. Why Hogwarts? Why not one of the
American schools?
ARTHUR: Ah. Well. Uh. Mostly because most of you have family
here.
JANE: Maybe -*all*- of us. Dad was talking about doing Welsh
landscapes again...
LYNN: Jane, you don't think your dad...
JANE: Well, he's new age enough... (looks around the place)
But that doesn't seem to be a criteria.
ARTHUR: And because ... well ... we can help you catch up a
bit. So you can join Ron's year at least.
FRED: You -*will*- explain who this ... Ms Li, you said?
LYNN: Sure. If you're not afraid of total mayhem.
RON: -*Afraid*- of? They -*thrive*- on it!
AP: Wizard mischief-makers! Kick!
GEORGE: We recently got ... some funding ... for Weasley's
Wizard Wheezes.
ARTHUR: Oh, -*George*-...
FRED: Ton-Tongue Toffees...
(The twins share a snicker with Ron over what they did to
Dudley...)
GEORGE: Canary Creams...
RON: (aside to the erstwhile Muggles) You really have to
have a care what you eat here.
(Lynn gives an evil smirk)
AP: I want in too!
JANE: God help the wizarding world...
DARIA: Bit late for that, it seems.
ARTHUR: Oh -*dear*-... Just ... don't let your mother
know...
LYNN: I have a book these guys have to read.
GEORGE: Can you work around 'Accio'?
AP: Hell, she can work around -*FBI*-.
(Blank looks from the Weasleys.)
LYNN: Never mind. I think we all need some down time. Can we
start the lessoning tomorrow?
RON: Sure! But ... are you sure the Restriction of
Underage...?
ARTHUR: Oh, that's all sorted out already.
FRED: Wow, Dad! How'd you manage -*that*-?
(Enter Molly, a little -*too*- well-timed...)
MOLLY: I made the tea! Oh, do leave them to rest a little,
Arthur! They've come a long way today.
(Arthur shoots a grateful look at Molly; everyone looks
suspicious.)
(Scene: Ginny's room. Ginny's fast asleep in her own bed;
Daria, Jane and Lynn are in sleeping bags on the floor [there's not enough
space in Ginny's room for three camp beds]. They're still awake, staring at the
ceiling and talking softly.)
DARIA: So why haven't we done anything ... I don't know ...
magical ... before?
LYNN: What I got told was that we sometimes -*have*-. When
we were scared, hurt or angry...
(They muse over this point for a moment.)
DARIA: So when that stupid cabin in the woods nearly
collapsed and killed us both...
LYNN: Probably us.
DARIA: Well, if this whole wizarding world thing doesn't
work out, I could make a fortune in the demolition business. (beat) And you
with your "I have a feeling that something incredibly stupid's going to
happen" over that dance...
LYNN: Oh, please. We were living in -*Lawndale*-. That
wasn't a prediction; -*that*- was a sure thing.
DARIA: Jane? How about you? Ever do anything...
JANE: Who knows? It's not like I had parents around keeping
tabs on me when I was growing up. I could have levitated the house into the
ionosphere and the only reaction I'd have got was Trent rasping "Hey, man,
what a cool dream" and going back to sleep.
LYNN: (shrug) Well, whichever way you look at it, whether we
did weird things as kids or not...
DARIA: Oh, I think it's safe to say that we -*all*- did
weird things as kids. It's whether they could be considered 'magical' that's at
issue here.
LYNN: ...The point -*is*-, we're here now. And this is what
we have to work with. (*sigh*) I am beyond jetlagged -- it's been a day. Night,
you two.
(She rolls over and falls asleep as Daria and Jane continue
to stare at the ceiling, pondering.)
JANE: What're you thinking -*now*-?
(pause)
DARIA: As much as I hate to say it ... this is probably
going to be cool. (beat) You?
JANE: This is going to be -*damn*- cool. (beat) Except for
the whole Death Eater thing.
DARIA: And to think you were once so set on finding the
silver lining.
JANE: (smirk) 'Night, witch.
DARIA: Good e'en, oh foul and secret midnight hag.
(Jane chuckles and they both close their eyes.)
(Scene: Ron's room. AP's asleep in a camp bed next to Ron's
empty bed. All of a sudden, there's a -*crashclatter*- and several small
explosions. AP jumps upright.)
AP: AAAAAAAAAGH! WhadIleave? WhadIleave? Wh...uh?
(He scrubs a hand through his hair as the door opens and Ron
sticks his head in.)
RON: Alright then?
AP: What the -*hell*-?
RON: The clattering's the ghoul in the attic. He thinks it
gets boring first thing in the morning.
AP: And the...
(Something goes *BOOM* and there's a sound of falling roof
tiles.)
MOLLY: (OS) FRED! GEORGE! ENOUGH!
AP: (wide-eyed) They make stuff blow up?
RON: Oh, nothing to worry about, but sometimes...
AP: (-*big*- grin) Great! (bounds out of bed) Hey Fred!
George! Whatcha using?
(AP scrambles out of the room. Ron looks very confused.)
(Scene: Weasley kitchen. Molly's dishing out porridge into
bowls. Percy is looking over the Prophet.)
MOLLY: Well, what do you want to go looking at flats for?
Percy, -*this*- is your home!
PERCY: Mother, this place is bursting at the seams. And with
everything that's going on at the Ministry ... trying to get to grips with Mr
Crouch's replacement ... I -*need*- my own space! Bill and Charlie have their
own private residences...
MOLLY: Oh, Percy dear, please don't think that we want you
out because you think it's inconvenient...
PERCY: But Mother, I don't want to stay just because my
-*leaving*- would be inconvenient. I know the gold coming in makes things
easier...
MOLLY: Oh, Percy, don't be ridiculous; we'll manage, same as
we always have. If moving is really going to make you happy...
(*BANG!* *fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee* *POP-POP-POP*
*BOOOOOM!* and the flat *thwack* of a door blown off its hinges hitting the
floor. Then, after a shocked silence, there is laughter.)
GEORGE: (OS) That was -*incredible*-, AP!
FRED: (OS) Yeah, Snape won't know what hit him!
MOLLY: RON! FRED! GEORGE! DOWNSTAIRS -*NOW*-! (beat; kindly)
And you too, AP dear!
(Enter Ginny, who pulls up a chair and starts pouring
treacle into her porridge.)
GINNY: Lynn's up there with the boys. They blew the -*door*-
right off. And they wouldn't let me in.
MOLLY: (puffing up) Just as we-- What on -*earth*- would you
want to go -*in*- there for?
GINNY: To see what's going -*on*-!
(Daria and Jane clump in. Molly goes from stunned to beaming
in 0.2 seconds.)
MOLLY: Good morning, dears; breakfast's on the table.
(She bustles off to the whistle of a tea kettle. Daria and
Jane sit down and the clump-clump-clump of several sets of feet come down the
stairs. Ron, Fred, George and AP descend upon the table like a plague of
oversized locusts; Lynn follows behind at a more sedate pace.)
GINNY: So what were you -*doing*- up there?
MOLLY: -*Ginny*-!
FRED: Don't worry, Mum; we weren't going to -*tell*- her!
GEORGE: Sorry, little sister, but Mum'd kill us.
FRED: Anyway, we want to keep the baby of the family safe!
GINNY: I'm -*not*- a baby, Fred; I'm -*fifteen*-!
GEORGE: And we want to make sure you reach -*sixteen*-.
DARIA: Jane, you have the biggest family of all of us. Are
they -*always*- like this?
JANE: How should I know? Most of mine scattered to the four
winds before I really knew -*what*- they were like.
MOLLY: Oh, how -*dreadful*-! (with a pointed look at Percy)
It must be -*horrible*- to live away from the ones you love, without a real
family around...
JANE: Actually, it's more horrible -*with*- a real family
around. The phone's never free, the place is -*packed*- with people talking and
yelling and hitting each other with foam rubber bats, never a room to call your
own...
PERCY: That's -*exactly*- my point, Mother!
MOLLY: (scowling) Well, we're -*different*-!
PERCY: Yes. Here there are -*explosions*-.
DARIA: Speaking of family ... how are we supposed to explain
all of this to our parents?
JANE: Daria, my only question is how I'm supposed to
-*find*- my parents.
DARIA: You have it easy. And Lynn and AP's parents
presumably know all about this. I just can't see Mom and Dad being very
accepting of British schools or having a witch for a daughter.
MOLLY: Oh, don't worry, dear. Your parents will receive an
owl from Hogwarts explaining everything.
RON: Most Muggle parents get used to it quick enough.
Hermione Granger's parents did.
DARIA: And if my parents decide not to take the word of an
... owl?
MOLLY: Well ... I ... suppose I don't know, exactly. Not
that it's the owl itself they'll have to believe, but the letter the owl's
carrying...
(Speaking of owls, a massive one flies through the window
and drops a letter at Lynn's place, circling the table and flying off again
without once touching solid ground. Lynn frowns and tears the letter open, and
her eyes widen.)
DARIA: Lynn?
LYNN: It's from Dad.
MOLLY: Not bad news, I hope...
LYNN: Not for -*us*-, anyway. But I'm not sure it's so good
for Jake and Helen... Or for Fred and Carol, for that matter.
(Daria frowns at Lynn; Lynn just hands over the letter. AP
gets up and reads over her shoulder. Both of them look at Lynn with wide eyes.)
FRED & GEORGE: (avid unison) What?
(Scene: Morgendorffer kitchen. Jake, as per usual, behind a
paper. Helen working on papers. Quinn quietly eating behind a fashion magazine.
Helen looks up with an expression that reads "I just thought of
something...")
HELEN: Jake ... did Daria say anything to you about when she'd
be coming -*back*- from that place in England ... Ottery St somewhere? I mean,
after that -*silly*- thing with the owl...
JAKE: (still behind the paper) Damn flying vermin...
HELEN: (getting frustrated) You're thinking of -*pigeons*-,
Jake, and... Oh, will you put that paper -*down*-?
JAKE: I'm trying to -*remember*-, Helen! Please! (doorbell
rings) Who could -*that*- be?
QUINN: (getting up) I'll get it!
(Scene: Morgendorffer front hall. Quinn opens the door and
sees Jerome standing there. His hands are in his pockets and he looks a little
sheepish ... but he relaxes slightly when he sees Quinn.)
JEROME: Good day; I'm Jerome... And you must be Quinn. You've
been blessed with your mother's looks.
QUINN: What do -*you*- want? And who -*are*- you, anyway? I
mean, like, it's weird -*enough*- at home right now with Daria's stupid joke
with the owl and everything...
JEROME: (back to sheepish) Ah, I take it the Hogwarts letter
arrived.
QUINN: You're -*not*- telling me that's for -*real*-! I
mean, -*God*-, I stopped believing in that -*magic*- stuff when the love spells
in "Waif" didn't work!
JEROME: It might be wise for you to re-evaluate that
opinion, m'lady.
QUINN: Oh, I'm -*through*- talking to -*you*-... MUH--*OM*-!
THERE'S THIS -*FREAK*- OF A GUY NAMED JEROME OUT HERE AND HE HELPED WITH THAT
STUPID -*OWL*- JOKE!
HELEN: (OS) -*WHAT*-?
(She and Jake both appear at the door behind Quinn a few
seconds later, and they both freeze when they spot Jerome.)
JAKE: Who are -*you*-?
HELEN: J-J-Jerome? What are -*you*- doing here?
JAKE: -*This*- is Jerome?
JEROME: I'm here to speak to you about Daria. And her new
school.
JAKE: What the hell's wrong with the school she's in
-*now*-?
JEROME: (slight sneer) It's American, isn't it? That speaks
for itself.
QUINN: Waitaminit. You mean Daria's going away to -*boarding
school*-? This is -*great*-! I can finally get that walk-in closet now!
HELEN: Quinn, we are -*not*- turning Daria's room into
closet space. (turning to Jerome) Now explain to me -*exactly*- what Daria's
supposed to be learning at this Hogwarts place that she couldn't learn right
here?
JEROME: In a word ... magic.
(long pause)
QUINN: I -*so*- want to not have to believe you.
JAKE: You -*don't*- have to believe him! I mean, what proof
do we have that this man isn't some ... some sort of bird-loving lunatic?
HELEN: Now, Jake, maybe we should...
JAKE: We -*should*- just call the police and make him give
my kiddo back! Damnit, Helen, who knows what kind of crap he's filling Daria's
head with? (He grabs Jerome; Jerome shoves him back) Look, you bastard! I want
my kiddo back, and if I have to beat where she is out of you...
JEROME: (sigh; whips out his wand) Petrificus Totalus!
(Jake freezes up and falls flat on his face. Quinn and Helen
scream. Jerome kicks Jake onto his back and looks down at him.)
HELEN: Jer--ohmygod! Jake! What did you -*do*- to him?
JEROME: Perhaps now we can have a civilised conversation
like two mature adults. (beat) Oh, don't fret; I'll unfreeze your husband when
we're through, no harm done. And I had to do -*something*- to prove that magic
exists, didn't I? How else would you believe that your daughter's capable of
similar acts?
HELEN: You mean -*my*- daughter is a ... a...
QUINN: I always -*knew*- she was a freak, but this...?
(beat) Does that mean I'm one too?
JEROME: Hardly. Apparently, this particular trait appears on
my side of the family.
QUINN: Oh. (something really nasty hits) That -*Lynn*- girl
too?
JEROME: Most assuredly.
QUINN: We're all gonna die, aren't we?
HELEN: Quinn!
QUINN: No ... no, you don't understand. The only person I
can think of who it'd be -*worse*- if they had magic would be that ...
-*thing*- Daria was seeing once. That AP freak.
JEROME: AP McIntyre, you mean? (nasty little Mona Lisa
smirk) He's attending Hogwarts this year as well.
(Quinn whimpers and flees for her room. Helen, meanwhile,
has finally managed to shake the shock.)
HELEN: All right ... if Daria needs a ... a -*special*-
school... Where-*is*- this place, anyway?
JEROME: The town is called Hogsmeade, Helen. It's on the
England/Scotland border. She'll have the best education England can provide
from a magical perspective.
HELEN: And what about her -*real*- education, Jerome, did
you think of -*that*-? What about -*college*-?
JEROME: M'dear, I attended Hogwarts for the full seven
years, and I was admitted to Harvard. Daria will be more than qualified to
attend any university that takes her fancy. What she lacks of Muggle teaching,
she can make up herself; from all I hear, she's an autodidactic little thing.
HELEN: (grudging) Well, she takes after -*you*- that way.
JEROME: She'll likely send an owl for you in a few days. Be
easy in your mind, Helen.
(He smiles slightly at her, then turns to leave.)
HELEN: (slight panic) -*Jerome*-! (he turns back) What about
Jake?
(Jerome blinks, then smirks apologetically.)
JEROME: (pointing his wand at Jake's chest) Enervate.
(Jake sits up screaming. Helen flinches backwards until Jake
gets hold of himself, then helps him up. By the time she's dragged Jake to his
feet, Jerome is gone -- likely Disapparated. Jake looks at Helen, his face
confused and angry.)
JAKE: (through clenched teeth) Explain. This. NOW.
(Helen sighs and leads him into the house.)
(Scene: McIntyre household. Jerome Apparates on the front
doorstep and rings the doorbell. Ten seconds pass, and the door is opened by
Carol.)
CAROL: (slow as always) Oh ... hello. (beat) May I help you?
(Jerome blinks loudly and proceeds to watch her very
carefully.)
JEROME: Good afternoon, Carol. I'm Jerome Smythe -- perhaps
you remember me? (after a moment of Carol's blank stare, he sighs and gives up)
I'm here to speak to you about your son.
CAROL: (after a short pause) Oh. Andrew. Yes. (beat) I hope
he's not in trouble at school again.
JEROME: Carol ... it's July. (slightly sotto) For two
Sickles, I'd have you in St Mungo's right now.
CAROL: (even more blank than usual) Where?
JEROME: (slight sigh) Never mind. Is Frederick at home?
CAROL: One moment, please. (calls into the house) Dear?
Someone wants to speak to you about Andrew's school.
(Enter Fred, who takes one look at Jerome and
unceremoniously steers Carol back into the house.)
FRED: I thought this state was rid of you, you preppie
British freak.
JEROME: Pleasant as always, Frederick.
FRED: It's July; what are you talking about Andrew's school
for?
JEROME: I was referring to his new school, Frederick. Or
haven't you received the owl?
FRED: I shoot owls around this house on sight.
JEROME: (scowl) This one was property of -*Hogwarts*-,
Frederick. That'll cost someone a tidy few Galleons.
(Fred goes white, then brick red)
FRED: You mean that ... that ... -*freak haven*- my wife
came out of? Hell, I knew -*your*- little bookish freak would wind up somewhere
like that, but we...
(Jerome visibly restrains himself from reaching for his wand
-- the Ministry's going to have enough problems with what he did to Jake.)
JEROME: What you will have to do is accept the fact that
your son has been accepted to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in
the world.
FRED: If I'd have known my son was one of ... of -*those*-,
I'd have...
JEROME: (accusatory) You'd have done -*what*-, Frederick?
Beat the tendency out of him? You'd have found yourself firmly attached to the
ceiling if you'd so much as tried. (-*very*- slight smirk) Or perhaps you'd be
inflated ... though some'd say that it would just be an addition to the hot air
you're already full of.
(Silence as they face each other down.)
FRED: (backing down) What're -*you*- doing being that freak
school's errand-boy, anyway? That ... that world didn't want you for anything
but donkey-work?
JEROME: We happen to believe that your son is destined for
great things, and wouldn't entrust this sort of thing to anyone but the best.
(now he -*does*- pull his wand) Would you like to test me?
FRED: (caving completely) There's a letter from that ...
that damned -*place*-, I suppose?
(Jerome tosses the letter at Fred in a manner that suggests
he'd much prefer embedding it somewhere between a couple of his ribs.)
JEROME: Always a pleasure, Frederick.
(With that, he Disapparates. Fred looks at the letter
ruefully and walks inside with it, slamming the door behind him hard enough to
make the glass set into it rattle.)
(Scene: Ginny's room. Lynn, Daria and Jane are lounging on
their sleeping bags, each with their nose in a book -- Jane's got "The Standard
Book of Spells, Grade 2", Daria's got "Intermediate
Transfiguration" and Lynn's mid-way through "Fantastic Beasts and
Where to Find Them". Lynn's boom box sits on the floor between them,
blaring loudness. Enter Fred, George, Ron and Ginny; they look mystified.)
FRED: Oi, you three! You're going to burn your eyes out.
RON: You don't think they got one of those books you just
can't stop reading, do you?
GEORGE: Nah; we'd've got it all before they did. (walks up
and grabs the book from Jane) Now, take a -*break*-, you lot!
DARIA: (not looking up) We've got a lot to get through
before we get to Hogwarts. You didn't expect us to take it easy, did you?
GINNY: (pointing at the stereo) What -*is*- that, anyway?
LYNN: (also not looking up) Boom box.
GINNY: What, you mean like that thing Fred and George built
for my fifth birthday?
(Now they -*do*- look up, levelling raised eyebrows at Fred
and George.)
DARIA: I seriously doubt it. Unless AP rigged the wiring
again.
JANE: It plays prerecorded music.
RON: That's -*music*-? Weird!
GEORGE: C'mon. Time you got some practical work in.
(The looks are now quite interested.)
(Scene: Weasley garden. Fred and George exit the back door
with Daria, Jane, Lynn and a soot-covered AP in tow. They stare around the
garden; Fred and George look around carefully.)
JANE: We're going to learn Herbology?
FRED: Not really, no.
(He plunges his hands into a bush, which shakes viciously;
from the bush, he produces a gnome.)
GEORGE: We never got to finish degnoming, so we'll use this
to teach you pest control.
RON: (from doorway) How're you going to teach them magic
-*this*- way? You -*know*- we're not supposed to use...
FRED: Special dispensation, remember?
GEORGE: Ickle Ronniekins never -*used*- to miss a trick when
it came to rule-breaking...
FRED: (holding up his gnome) Now who wants to show us how
well they learned a Banishing charm?
(Jane raises an eyebrow with a smirk. George hands her his
wand and she aims it at the gnome.)
JANE: Say bye-bye, Mister Potato-Head...
(Scene: field next to the Burrow. It seems so quiet ...
until the Dopplering scream of a garden gnome travelling at high velocity fills
the air. The gnome flies into shot and becomes buried face-down in a large pile
of sheep muck. Applause is heard from out of shot.)
FRED: (OS) Wow, Jane, that even beats Harry's record!
(Scene: Fred and George's room. It's like a wizard's version
of AP's room -- there are ... well, best just to call them -*things*- ...
scattered everywhere. A bunk bed as rickety as the house is flush up against
the wall; neither bed is made. The wardrobe doors and dresser drawers are open
to various degrees, with robes and what could be describes as Muggle clothes
sticking out. Fred and George usher Daria in, and Daria stares around her.)
DARIA: And I thought the Techno-Weasel den was bad.
FRED: (who doesn't get it) The -*what*-?
GEORGE: (who doesn't have to) The Techno-Weasel Weasley! I
like that!
DARIA: And you've brought me in here just to show off the
extent of your housekeeping skills?
FRED: We thought that this would be the best place to give
you some practice on Summoning charms.
DARIA: Well, there's certainly no shortage of targets...
GEORGE: Just point at something and say "Accio".
Like this. (points at the pillow on one of the beds) Accio!
(The pillow shoots off the bed and George catches it. Fred
hands his wand to Daria and looks at her expectantly. Daria looks around,
looking a little nervous. Eventually she points to the desk vaguely.)
DARIA: Accio!
(Something green, gelatinous and nasty-looking flies off the
desk; she sees it coming and lets it go right past her. It hits Fred in the
face with a *squelch* and sticks there. George gapes at her and she lifts a
hand in a vague and overly belated attempt to stop the gooey thing as in the
canon opening credits. Fred, meanwhile, is struggling to get the thing off his
face.)
(Scene: Weasley paddock. The gang is standing with Fred,
George, Ron and Ginny. Percy is standing off at a distance, obviously as a
chaperone.)
PERCY: I -*still*- think we should wait for Mother and Fa...
FRED: Oh, shut it!
GEORGE: It's alright, Percy; Mum -*said*- that she'd be no
good at these kinds of charms. And Dad's at work.
FRED: So they put -*us*- in charge.
RON: C'mon, Percy; just let us get on with it.
FRED: Right; you'll each need a partner...
GEORGE: We'll start. Daria, you partner Fred. I'll take
Lynn.
FRED: After we've gone, Ron'll take Jane and Ginny'll face
off against our dear cousin.
RON: You're -*joking*-! She's far closer to your style than,
say, Daria; she'll -*massacre*- me!
GEORGE: She'll go easy on you.
JANE: (suspicious) Why are you so set on doing it -*this*-
way, anyway?
FRED: Symmetry.
LYNN: (raised eyebrow) Symmetry.
GINNY: Well, I -*suppose*- ... it would be interesting to
look at...
AP: It would be damn -*scary*- to look at! Why'd you wanna
freak us out that way?
DARIA: Because it's not -*us*- he wants to freak out.
(They -*all*- turn around to look at Percy, who squirms
under the blossoming smirks. Then Ron and Ginny hand their wands to Lynn and
Daria respectively and the two sets of look-alikes face off. Cutting to Percy,
we see that the sight two identical duelling pairs have had the desired effect
on him. Whether it's because of the eerie mirror effect or the identity of the
combattants themselves, Percy looks like Armageddon would be a blessing. Back
to the gang.)
GEORGE: Alright? Now, let's start simple. Disarming?
RON: Oh boy...
FRED: Just point the wand at your opponent and say
"Expelliarmus".
PERCY: You -*will*- be careful, won't you? I don't want to
be responsible for explaining your injuries to Mother!
LYNN: (pointing the wand at Percy) Petrificus Totalus!
(Percy freezes; falls over. They all look at Lynn.)
FRED: Uh...
GEORGE: Lynn...
LYNN: (innocent blink) What? Weren't we doing Freezing
Charms yet?
(Fade out on the slightly scared, slightly admiring looks
she's getting.)
(Scene: Weasley kitchen. Lynn's poking at the kettle. It's
poking back. She sighs and reaches in the draining board for a saucepan when AP
barges into the room.)
LYNN: (nodding towards the kettle) I swear that thing can
see me. I brought out the Turkish and it refused to let me within a few feet of
it. (beat; seeing the look on his face -- somewhere between angry and panicked)
What's with you?
AP: Get me OUT of here! I mean, Uncle Arthur's cool and
everything, but if I have to explain ... (*shudder*) escapators one more time,
I'm gonna rip out what hair he has left!
LYNN: (filling her saucepan) It can't be that bad.
AP: He tried to use my -*laptop*-, Purple Peril! I always
thought the 'white-out on the screen' thing was a geek -*myth*-!
LYNN: He knows from white-out?
AP: He has a bottle. One shelf down from the plug
collection. Along with a few Dictaphones and a stapler held shut with an
elastic band.
LYNN: Held ... shut?
AP: I took the rubber band off. It tried to staple my hand
to the shelf.
(Lynn raises an eyebrow but the water has started to boil;
she dumps the contents of a packet into it and stirs briskly. Enter Jane,
looking a bit dishevelled with various ... things ... stuck in her hair.)
JANE: You know ... I thought magic was gonna be a -*lot*-
more fun. (to the lack of looks) Well, seeing as you're so interested, I had
Accio lessons. And -*none*- of Daria's foresight. Or reflexes.
(Lynn adds sugar to her concoction -- neither she nor AP are
looking at Jane. Jane looks incredibly peeved by this.)
AP: Though I guess I see his point about the money. I mean,
English money's -*warped*-. Why's it all funny shapes and sizes?
LYNN: (stirring again) It's friendliness to the blind and
partially sighted. They're an equal opportunity sort of country.
AP: What, you mean like opportunity to no one? (Lynn nods
and goes mug-hunting) Figures.
JANE: (sniffing) I'll forgive you for ignoring me if you
pour me some of that. You have -*no*- idea how sick I am of tea.
(Lynn has produced four mugs and is pouring ... glop that
smells too much like coffee to actually smell like coffee into them. She hands
one to Jane, who swallows some of it undiluted, shudders, and heads for the
faucet to add some water. AP goes milk-hunting as Lynn moves the other three
mugs to the table -- she uses Wingardium Leviosa to do it. Then she goes to the
table and takes a swig of her own brew.)
AP: Where's Erudite Emerald? I guess the fourth cup's for
her...
JANE: Good luck. She -*prefers*- tea. Now that she's found a
way to take caffeine that doesn't involve involuntary muscle spasms...
LYNN: Good thing it's not -*for*- her, then, isn't it?
JANE: But then who...?
(As if in reply, Arthur staggers in. He looks tired, like he
didn't get enough sleep.)
ARTHUR: Morning, all. Is there tea?
(Lynn just holds up the mug. Arthur, too tired to argue,
takes it and swigs. He nearly chokes on the first mouthful, then looks at
Lynn.)
LYNN: (as if talking to a very small child) Cof. Fee.
JANE: Like tea, only ... looks stronger, smells stronger,
tastes stronger and ... well, -*is*- stronger.
AP: And the way -*she*- makes the stuff, you won't be tired
for awhile.
JANE: Like, for -*days*-.
AP: Milk might help, if you want to tone it down some...
ARTHUR: (cradling the mug protectively) No! Er ... no, thank
you; I'll take it as is.
(With that, he takes another mouthful; obviously the
effects, if not the taste, are growing on him. He leaves still carrying his
mug, and Jane and AP look at Lynn, who shrugs and takes another sip of her
drink.)
(Scene: Weasley sitting room. Daria is holding a a little
rubber ball, squinting at it. Jane wanders in, with Lynn right behind her.)
JANE: It's an interesting piece. What does it say to you?
DARIA: (bringing out her wand; pointing it at the ball)
Lumos Sphericus.
(The ball lights up green; the other two girls look at it,
eyebrows raised.)
LYNN: You can say -*that*- again.
DARIA: I thought the Lumos spell that lights up wand tips
was interesting. I thought I'd see if it had other applications.
JANE: Yeah, but what are you going to do with a glowing
rubber ball? Apart from submit it to the MOMA?
LYNN: (smirk) Aussie Rules Quidditch.
(Ron, Fred, George and AP poke their heads around a door.
Ron has broken out in rainbow-coloured polka dots.)
FRED: Did someone say Quidditch?
GEORGE: And what's Aussie Rules?
FRED: Come to that, what's an Aussie?
RON: (unlike those two, -*he*- looks panicked) I've heard of
this from Dean. I told you this, remember?
FRED: What, with the...?
GEORGE: And then when they...?
FRED & GEORGE: (unison) Ooooooooooooh...
AP: That's the thing that's with the "no death, no
foul", right? (when Lynn nods) Oooooooooooh!
RON: But you -*can't*- play Quidditch outdoors at night!
What would happen if you lost the Snitch? Or if a Bludger flew into that Muggle
town?
AP: Who said anything about "at night"?
LYNN: Who said anything about -*"outdoors"*-?
(Fred, George and Ron exchange looks. Jane and Daria do the
same.)
(Scene: Weasley kitchen. Molly and Ginny are in the kitchen,
conjuring up a meal [literally]. Molly's stirring something in a saucepan on
the hob and Ginny's rooting through the cupboards.)
MOLLY: (not looking) Oh, Ginny, while you're there, could
you get me the...?
GEORGE: (OS) QUIDDIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH!
(*WHAP*)
GINNY: Ow!
(Now Molly looks 'round and sees Ginny rubbing the back of
her head; her hair's full of flour and she looks vastly put out. They both look
at the little glowing green ball, which is now lying on the floor. Then they
look up at the door between the kitchen and the sitting room, through which AP
barges. He grabs the ball off the floor and then freezes at the looks he's getting
from the Weasley women.)
AP: Sorry. Forgot how much torque a Beater could give a
ball.
MOLLY: What on -*earth*- are you lot -*doing*- in there?
AP: Aussie Rules Quidditch. (to the still blank looks) You
basically got a dark room, a glowing ball and you peg it at each other as hard
as you can.
MOLLY: Well, that's the -*daftest*- idea I've -*ever*-
heard--
GINNY: And I want to play!
AP: (big grin, handing her a Beater's bat) Here's your
"broomstick"!
(Ginny grins back, grabs the bat and runs into the darkened
sitting room, with AP right behind her. Molly looks scandalised.)
(Scene: Weasley kitchen. AP is sitting at the table, poring
over a large book. Lynn is sitting across from him, lacing her boots. Daria
walks in, shrugging into her coat, and AP slams the book, looking disgusted.)
AP: This -*sucks*-. Don't they have -*any*- of this crap on
CD-ROM?
DARIA: Would you be able to use it on your computer anyway?
AP: Yeah, well, -*you*- try getting white-out off a computer
screen. It's -*wrecked*-! And I can't ask Uncle Arthur to replace it because
even if he knew what to look for and how to buy ... well, -*anything*- in the
normal world, he couldn't afford it!
LYNN: Would it help if I promised to replace the machine out
of my trust fund?
AP: Aw, c'mon, Purple Peril; I mean, it's nice of you and
all that, but I couldn't... (Lynn glares at him; he stops, blushing and a
little afraid) Uh ... eee ... I...
DARIA: I believe the words you're groping for are
"thank you".
AP: Yeah. Uh. Eee. I...
(Enter Jane, Fred, George, Ginny and Molly.)
MOLLY: Now, dears, Arthur won't be able to join us for this
shopping trip; something about a necklace with a minor rash curse in it going
to a pawn shop in Electric Avenue. Wizards can be -*very*- petty... (when Fred
and George snicker) And it's -*not funny*-, you two! And if I ever hear of
-*you*- doing anything like that...
GINNY: Mum, you should explain about Floo Powder. Remember
when Harry wound up in Knockturn Alley that time...
MOLLY: Oh dear, we'd better not have -*that*- happening
again. Ginny, you go first and show them, would you?
(Ginny graps a pinch of Floo Powder from the pot by the
fireplace, chucks it into the fire and steps in.)
GINNY: (loud and clear) Diagon Alley!
(Ginny vanishes. Fred goes next as Daria looks green and
Jane reaches for her sketch pad with the speed of a gunslinger.)
JANE: Wow.
DARIA: That's not the exclamation -*I'd*- use.
RON: (as George goes) You and Lynn might want to take your
glasses off, Daria. Harry had his broken last time.
MOLLY: Why don't you go next, Daria dear?
(Daria pockets her glasses, nervously takes a pinch of the
Floo Powder, and tosses it into the fireplace. Then she steps in.)
DARIA: (-*very*- deliberate) Di. Ag. On. Al. Ley.
MOLLY: (as Daria vanishes) Very good, dear! Jane?
(Jane reluctantly puts her sketchpad away, takes a pinch of
Floo Powder and approaches the fireplace. As she does, Lynn and AP share a
look.)
JANE: (OS) Diagon Alley!
(Molly turns to Lynn and AP.)
MOLLY: AP dear?
AP: Ladies first.
MOLLY: Lynn, then?
LYNN: He said -*ladies*- first.
(Molly looks at her a little strangely, but takes her turn
at the floo. When she goes, Lynn and AP smirk.)
AP: (obviously practicing his innocent act) She went just
ahead of me; I don't know what could've happened! (beat) Hey, y'think she
accidentally went down Knockturn like that Harry kid?
LYNN: (practicing too; and she's better) I got a mouthful of
soot and was coughing a bit. Guess I wasn't clear enough. (With that, she grabs
a pinch of Floo Powder and chucks it into the fire) Knockturn Alley!
(As Lynn vanishes, AP looks at the fire, which is burning a
little low. He piles some more wood on and looks at it critically again.
Satisfied, he goes for the Floo Powder.)
(Scene: Diagon Alley. Daria, Jane and AP are in front of
Fortean Florescue's ice cream parlour, nibbling at small cones.)
DARIA: And you -*really*- expected anyone to -*believe*-
that?
AP: Well, it fooled Aunt Molly...
DARIA: Fine. And you really expected anyone who isn't
unbelievably naïve to believe that?
JANE: She could have at -*least*- let me -*in*- on it. It
could have been great drawing material in there!
DARIA: And you haven't got enough artistic inspiration to
last you for the next thirty -*years*-? I mean, -*look*- at this place.
(Pan around at Daria's orders. The white architechture and
gleaming brass doors of Gringotts dominate the alley. Cauldrons of every size
and metal gleam in the sun. Wizards and witches in brightly coloured robes mill
about, carrying bags and boxes. It's bright and colourful and very beyond the
realm of Muggle experience. It's very easy in the light of that to see Daria's
point.)
JANE: Okay ... I'm just planning to live another seventy
years, at -*least*-.
(Daria rolls her eyes. Lynn approaches from around a corner;
she looks dirty and a little shaken.)
AP: So how was it?
LYNN: Take one of the worst nightmares you've had, marry it
up with The Fall of the House of Usher and throw in a little Lovecraft for
seasoning.
JANE: And you didn't let me -*in*- on it?
(Without a word, Lynn throws a small yellow box at Jane. She
examines it -- it's a disposable camera. Jane beams.)
LYNN: It wasn't any fun without any money anyway. Come on.
JANE: It's not going to be as easy as using an ATM, is it.
DARIA: Knowing the wizard world, it's not. But console
yourself with the fact that it -*will*- be more impressive to look at.
(Scene: Gringotts. Lynn and Daria lead the way into the bank
and Jane and AP follow along. Daria, Jane and AP stop dead when they notice the
Gringott staff.)
DARIA: Goblins. (beat) Actual goblins.
(Jane has just pulled out her sketchpad until AP grabs her
by the arm.)
AP: Make with the memory storage and do the drawing later.
(The trio move towards the tellers, where Lynn is showing
one of the goblins a token she's wearing around her neck -- it's a silver disk
embossed with the emblem of a striking falcon.)
GRIPHOOK: Ah, Ms Smythe. You're here about the domestic
accounts -- vaults 745 through 748. Right this way, please...
DARIA: (facefault) Four -*vaults*- of this wizard money?
LYNN: No, more like one and a half. Vault 745 is mine.
Vaults 747 and 748 are for the four of us to use for however long we're at
Hogwarts.
JANE: Funny; I don't remember filling in any scholarship
application forms.
AP: Are you -*complaining*-?
DARIA: And ... vault 746?
(In response, Lynn just digs through a pocket and produces a
small pewter disc on a pewter chain. That disc is also embossed with a falcon.
Daria looks at Lynn in shock as Lynn presses it into Daria's hand.)
LYNN: Come on. Let's not keep the goblin waiting. (beat) Oh,
one thing. Could you transfer about a quarter of the contents of vault 745 to
the Weasleys' vault?
GRIPHOOK: Certainly, Ms Smythe. Let me just get the
appropriate forms and a quill.
DARIA: (sees what Lynn's doing and likes it) Make it two.