Hogwarts High II
By Siriusly Amused
Author's Note: Greetings and welcome all you fan fiction readers! I am Siriusly Amused and I am here to introduce my new fic. Well, it's actually a sequel to a different fic that I have. Notice the II at the end of the title? So those of you who haven't read Hogwarts High, I suggest you scamper off to my profile, find HHI and read it. It's 26 chapters, but I think it's a relatively fast read…five hours or so. -shrugs- I've never actually read it straight through, but I've had numerous readers who told me that they have, so it can be done. As for those of you who have already read HHI, I really hope you enjoy this fic. It starts out six weeks after the end of HHI. What else do I have to say about this fic… -ponders- Hmm, can't think of anything at the moment, but if it pops up later, I'll let you know. I just hope that you all love this fic as much as you did the first one.
Warning: I feel like I must issue several warnings before you read this fic. First of all, there's no big plot in this one. No one gets kidnapped and forced into the mafia. No one dies. Most of the conflicts are internal. Since there's no BIG conflict in it, I shall try to keep it relatively short. I'm thinking around 12 chapters? Maybe? Who knows. Secondly, I feel as though I must warn you that I'm going to attempt to have the characters grow up a bit. So things may get a little more adult. I don't think it's anything that will need the rating to go up, though I haven't written it yet, so I dunno.
Disclaimer: There are many things in this world that I do not own. I don't own an iPod, tevo, digital camera, trampoline (though I used to), and my friend M of whom you may remember from some of the A/Ns of HH. I also do not own Harry Potter and all things concerning it…the lyrics to the song, 'Santa Monica' by Everclear…Adult Swim…Sprite…the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles…
µ We can live beside the ocean, Leave the fire behind, Swim out past the breakers, Watch the world die… µ
I opened my eyes slowly and gazed around my room. It was filled with the bluish light of approaching dawn and I groaned, partly over my frustration of waking up early yet again (I found it difficult to sleep all summer long) and partly because I realized that I was feeling slightly nauseous. With much difficulty, I shoved my sheet off of myself and sat up. I paused for a few moments, willing myself not to throw up before I stood and made my way to the bathroom. After splashing my face with cool water, I went to the kitchen and grabbed a cold Sprite. I was on my way back to my bedroom, intent on listening to some music while I sipped the Sprite, when I noticed that Ron's bedroom door was opened and, upon glancing in, that he wasn't in bed. His window was opened, and I had a pretty good idea of where he had gone off to. I stood in his doorway for a few minutes, debating what I should do before I shrugged to myself, crossed his room, and climbed out of the window.
After a few minutes of walking along the beach, I found him. He was dressed in the same clothes that he has worn for the past couple of days: an overly large T-shirt and some black, nylon shorts. He was lying on the sand, fast asleep. Ever since school let out, Ron and I had grown quite fond of sleeping in odd places. We once even fell asleep on the roof. Mom had yelled at us for well over an hour for that.
Ron looked like he was sleeping peacefully for once. He was spread out comfortably on his back with one hand behind his head in a sort of make-shift pillow. His other hand rested upon his stomach, rising and falling with each breath he took. He hadn't cut his hair in over a month and it was starting to get long. His bangs fell over his closed eyes and the rest of his hair was tucked behind an ear. He was also in desperate need of a shave.
Suddenly, Ron twitched and opened his eyes. He must have felt my presence. He swore under his breath and rubbed a hand over his face.
"What are you doing out here, Gin?" he asked, remaining on the ground.
"Couldn't sleep," I explained. "Felt slightly sick so…" I trailed off and indicated the Sprite in my hand. Ron closed his eyes once again and patted the sand next to him, indicating I should sit down. I complied and finished off half of my Sprite before growing sleepy once more and laying down, ignoring the first rays of light and the increasing humidity.
I don't understand females. I guess it's an aftereffect from growing up in a predominantly male household, but I truly don't understand the complete and utter absurdness that is the female mind. I don't understand Charlie either. Perhaps I should back up and explain…
I met Fleur last summer. It was twilight and I was walking back to my apartment after visiting with the family. My mood was relatively good. Percy had pompously reminded me every five minutes that I had not managed to get a full scholarship to Harvard, unlike him, and that I now worked at Hogwarts Hills bank whilst he had bigger and better plans. I had come close to pounding his head in several times throughout dinner, but my other younger siblings had kept me sane.
Fred and George had managed to sneak cockroaches into Percy's mashed potatoes. Ron continually asked me questions about what I had been up to, his eyes eager to listen to me ramble on about what I consider a normal life. And Ginny bounced around me like a three-year-old, telling me of her excitement over entering high school in the fall and asking my opinion on what classes she should take. My younger sibling's enthusiasm over me was enough to cancel out Percy's 'I've got something shoved up my ass' attitude, causing me to be uncharacteristically light-hearted and adventurous. Which is probably why I went up to Fleur and offered to buy her coffee. We hit it off and she moved into my apartment a month later.
The first couple of months of our relationship was a complete whirlwind. Fleur often compared it to some of the smut novels that she read. I was always a bit unnerved over being compared to some guy in a romance novel and so I usually ended her babbling of 'heaving bosoms' by giving her mouth something better to do.
Then our relationship became normal. The passion was still there, but we spent as many nights sitting up and talking about life as we did staying up all night doing…something else. I felt as though we were married, that I had found the future mother of my children--and then it all went to hell.
I noticed her shoe fetish. She constantly complained about my tendency to leave wet towels on the floor. We couldn't agree on what to eat, where to go, or what to watch on TV. The relationship ended in May when I came home from work one day to find my bags packed. She some how managed to kick me out of my own apartment. And because I don't understand women, I let her.
I've been living with Charlie since. The problem is that he confuses me more than women do. He has no sleep schedule for one. I'd wake up at two in the morning to his insane laughter. Leaving my bed to investigate, I'd find him in the living room, eating cold pizza and watching Adult Swim. Likewise, I'd come home from work at 5:30 to see him snuggled up in bed. I once confronted him about his sleeping habits and he explained that he was too busy and full of life to abide by a normal sleep schedule.
"You don't understand, Bill," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in a hyper manner. "Between work, the guys, concerts, the gym, occasionally dating, awesome TV shows, and the occasional family meeting, there's no place for sleep. I just pencil it in whenever I can. As a matter of fact, I have five minutes of free time right now!" And with that he threw himself onto the couch and was snoring within seconds.
There were other things about Charlie that confused me as well. Like how he could survive with only baking soda and sour milk in the fridge. After living in such insane conditions for over a month, I made the mistake of complaining about it to Mom.
"Oh, Bill, dear," she had sighed on the phone, "why don't you just come back home and stay in your old room for awhile?"
"Mom, I'm twenty five-years-old," I explained, holding a hand over my free ear to drown out Charlie's off-key signing rendition of 'The Safety Dance'. "I can't run back to my mommy and daddy when things are rough."
"Think of it as helping us out," Mom replied.
"Helping you out? What are you going to give me chores to do?"
Mom gave a nervous laugh before lowering her voice slightly, as if she didn't want anyone to overhear her. "No, the truth is…the kids aren't doing so well. Fred and George don't seem to have their priorities straight, and Ron and Ginny both seem to be greatly depressed over everything that had happened."
I was about to comfort my mom, but Charlie had picked that exact moment to grab me and have me tango across the kitchen as he shouted out, "You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind. Because your friends don't dance and if they don't dance, well they're no friends of mine!"
I placed the phone back to my ear once my brother had released me from his death grip and I told Mom that I'd move back in as soon as I could. Which is how I found myself, several days later, standing in the driveway and gazing at the Weasley house with two large duffle bags in my hands.
I entered the house through the laundry room, crossed the kitchen and went down the hall to my old bedroom. It was immensely stuffy, so I opened the window and plopped down upon my squeaky bed with a sigh, gazing up at the ceiling. It was several minutes later that I realized that something was definitely wrong. It was one in the afternoon and the house was far too quiet.
Leaving my room and crossing the hallway, I barged into the twin's room to find them both still in bed.
"It's one in the fucking afternoon!" I all but yelled as I stomped across their room and opened their shades. They both groaned and recoiled into their sheets. My anger tripled. "Don't you two have jobs or something?" I asked, grabbing a fistful of George's sheet and peering down at him.
"Do you consider watching TV all day a job?" he asked me thickly, opening one eye to gaze at me.
"No," I told him.
"Then we don't have jobs," he replied, taking his sheet from my grasp and disappearing under it again.
I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. "Then you two will be cutting the lawn today. It's starting to look like a wildlife preserve out there."
"Who put you in charge?" Fred, or rather the large lump that was Fred, grumpily asked.
"Mom," I told him.
"Oh, that's right, she said something about you coming home for awhile last night at supper. Well, that still doesn't mean that we have to listen to you, brother dear."
I muttered obscenities at them and left the room, going down the hall to check up on the two youngest Weasleys. I checked Ron's room first and was shocked. The room was a horrible mess. Now, Ron's not a tidy boy, but his room was currently rivaling Fred and George's in both messiness and smell. His unmade bed was empty and his window opened. I furrowed my brow and continued onto Ginny's room. Hers was a mess as well though not nearly as bad as the others. Her bed was also empty.
"Where the hell are Ron and Ginny!" I roared, stomping back over to the twin's bedroom.
"Check the roof," one of the lumps told me.
"Yeah, they've been sleeping in odd places lately."
I was about to scold the twins for telling such lies when a door slammed and Ginny rushed past me and into the bathroom. A second past and then we heard her retching. The twins sat up in bed with worried expressions on their faces.
"She really needs to start taking care of herself again," George stated. I was about to question him when Ron came in, nodded his hello, and went into the bathroom. I stood in shock for a few moments. Unless my eyes had deceived me, Ron had longish hair and the beginnings of a beard. I went to stand in the bathroom doorway and sure enough, Ron was scruffy looking. He stood behind Ginny and held her hair back as she continued to retch.
"What the hell's going on here?" I asked as I rubbed my temples.
"Those two are depressed and aren't taking care of themselves," George explained, coming up behind me and pointing at Ron and Ginny in the bathroom.
"Well spotted, George," I told him, rolling my eyes. "Now, do you know what's wrong with you and Fred? Besides the fact that you're both in Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles pajamas?"
"What's wrong with our pajamas?" Fred asked, coming out of the bedroom with a hurt expression on his face.
"Only the fact that it's after one in the afternoon and you're still in them," I said tersely. "Now, change into some normal clothes and cut the lawn."
The twins laughed. "We didn't listen to you when we were kids, Billy boy, and we're not going to listen to you now."
And that was when I lost my temper. I grabbed the twins by their shirts and all but hurled them into their bedroom. "CHANGE CLOTHES AND CUT THE LAWN BEFORE I FUCKING CASTRATE YOU!" I yelled at them. They gazed up at me from where they landed on the floor. Their eyes were wide with both shock and a newfound respect.
"Fine," Fred stated at last. "We've been meaning to work on our tans anyway."
I slammed their door and snorted. "Yeah, you guys go work on your freckles," I mumbled before turning my attention back to the bathroom. Ginny seemed to be better and was standing. Ron was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. They were both staring at me.
"Ron, when was the last time you looked into a mirror?" I asked my sixteen-year-old brother. He shrugged. I pointed to the mirror opposite him and his eyes followed my finger.
"Huh," he stated nonchalantly, "Must have taken ages for me to grow this thing." He rubbed his slight beard thoughtfully.
"Yes, well, it makes you look like a hobo," I told him. "I want you to take a shower and get rid of that sand and smell. Then I want you to shave. Then clean your room and lastly, help me with dinner."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, I'm going to bed."
I blocked his exit from the bathroom. "You're taking a shower," I told him.
Ron smirked at me. "What are you going to do? Castrate me? Hermione's gone, man, you can have 'em"
"Eww," Ginny squealed. She was standing next to Ron.
"Ginny," I said softly. "Go get some Sprite for that stomach, you'll be showering when Ron gets done." I stepped aside just enough for Ginny to leave the bathroom before turning back to a now fuming Ron.
"I told you, I'm not going to take a shower!" Ron all but yelled.
Gritting my teeth in anger, I pushed my youngest brother into the bathtub and started the shower. The water cascaded down upon him, soaking his hair, shirt, and shorts. He was glaring and breathing deeply. I glared back.
"You're going to do exactly what I tell you or else you're going to find someplace else to live," I threatened.
"Mom and Dad wouldn't let you kick me out," Ron retaliated.
I walked to the bathroom door and smirked back. "Sure they won't." And with that, I closed the door.
The twins chose that moment to stumble out of their room. They were both in sneakers and shorts with no shirts. "I'd put a shirt on if I were you," I told them, following them down the hall and into the kitchen. Neither seemed to have heard me. I sighed. "Yeah, whatever. Get skin cancer for all I care." I came to the kitchen table where Ginny was nursing her Sprite.
"Wanna talk about it?" I asked her, plopping down in a chair.
She shook her head in frustration. "My best friend since five and the guy I might possibly love are far, far away."
"Yeah, and you're doing them a load of good acting like a big baby," I told her. Her eyes widened. I wasn't sure if she was shocked at my tone or if realization over how she was acting dawned upon her. I really don't understand women.
My mother really doesn't even try to keep her voice down. I wonder if she realizes that she does it or if it's just a habit she doesn't know she developed. I had spent the past six weeks drifting by in a sort of haze. I didn't do anything, didn't go out with anyone. Seamus, Neville and Dean had called me several times but I would only mumble a reason why I couldn't accompany them on whatever excursion they were planning and hang up the phone. I spent most of my days on my ass, and Mom got sick of it so she beckoned Bill to return home. Bill's been home for less than twenty four hours and he already screwed up my happy drifting! I'm clean-shaven again! I was quite proud of that beard I was growing.
I was on my bed listening to Bill and Mom argue about my long hair. Mom wants it cut off right away and Bill says he likes it. Seeing as Bill's hair is much longer than mine, Mom should be focusing her attention more on him.
Ginny's cleaning her room. The doors that separate our rooms are outlined in the bright gold light from her room and I can hear her moving stuff around. She's trying to get her life back to normal and since she's trying, everyone is going to expect me to try too. Everyone can go to hell because I'm going to spend the rest of my summer on my ass.
Sent: June 27th, 2:05 PM
Subject: Don't ever live in a group home!
Hey, Ron. Long time, no talk. I'm sure you're probably wondering what happened to Draco and I after we were dramatically taken away from your house on graduation night so I thought I'd fill you in. We were taken to a group home that had six other kids in it. We shared a room with a really bratty ten-year-old who thought he was a God at soccer (Draco and I humbled him after one game). Our foster fathers (yes, Ron, plural) were bastards who pretty much sat around all day. Their names were Bert and Ernie (no, I'm not joking).
Life was horrible there. We had one bathroom and for some reason Draco was under the delusion that he had first dibs on it at all times. Even if someone else was already using it. We were about ready to run away and join the circus when this family came in and adopted us. Both of us. Just like that. I was really confused how they could get us so easily when it was hell for your parents until they took us to their mansion of a home. I guess you really can do whatever you want when you have the money.
Even though the house is huge, Draco and I still have to share a bathroom. I'm getting really tired of sharing with that guy. But the family is relatively nice. The man's name is Larry and his wife's name is Susan. They have one daughter named Jennifer. She's nine and too cute for her own good. Larry's very boisterous and Susan is quiet. Apparently Larry really wanted sons, but other than that, Draco and I have no idea why they adopted us. Speaking of Draco, he just came into my room, searching for his remote control. He says hi.
And that's what happened. According to Draco, the police haven't found any evidence that Sirius, Remus, and Narcissa are dead. This news has brought me out of mourning. I don't think they're dead. Maybe I'm in denial. I don't know. Anyway, I have to go. Jennifer wants to go swimming (they have a pool in the backyard) so I have to sit out there and play lifeguard.
E-mail me back sometime,
From: I'm so pretty
Sent: June 29th, 7:28 PM
To: Weasel III
Subject: I know you miss me.
Dear Weasel III,
I left my school bag in the closet in your family's office. My lucky pen was in that school bag. If you could be so kind as to mail it back to me, I would really appreciate it. And say hello to the other weasels for me.
From: Damn, I look good
Sent: June 29th, 8:12 PM
To: Weasel IV
Subject: Harry Potter is an ass!
Harry just called me narcissistic and said that I have my head up my ass! First of all, what does narcissistic mean? Secondly, please reassure me that I'm not narcissistic and that I do not have my head up my ass. Thirdly, how's Noelle? I want to e-mail her but I don't know what to say.
Love (because I know you do),
Sent: July 2nd, 10:07 AM
Subject: The most horrible, God-awful summer ever!
Sorry I didn't write sooner. Once I got here, I decided to make myself busy so I'm not bored and missing you guys. So I signed up for some summer classes at the local college (it's never too early to get college credits) and got a job at the local movie theater. Do you realize how much popcorn people spill? What's really horrible is when they spill soda too because the soda makes the popcorn stick to the floor.
My classes end in two weeks so I'll have time for proper e-mails then. I hope you and everyone else is doing alright.
Sent: July 2nd, 10:57 AM
I miss you. A lot.
From: The First Noelle
Sent: July 5th, 9:39 PM
Subject: We've got a problem
How are you? I got your e-mail. I'm glad you're keeping busy. Are college classes hard? I'll probably take some next summer. Anyway, have you been in contact with either Ginny or Ron? I tried calling Ginny a few times this summer and she wasn't very talkative either time, which is unlike her. I ran into Seamus and Neville at the 4th of July celebrations and they said that Ron's been aloof too.
I've been wondering if I should just go over there and force them out of their funk? But I don't know. I don't want to force them to do something that they don't want to do and I heard that their anger can be pretty bad. What do you think?
Sent: July 6th, 8:44 AM
Subject: Risk it
Hey! I'm doing alright, I guess. The college classes are more difficult than high school, but they intrigue me. Work is getting better now that I'm getting used to it and learning who everyone is. We've got some characters here. One of my coworkers likes to stare into the light and then try to catch the specks of color that flash before his eyes when he looks away. Another coworker, Gavin, is really full on himself. Reminds me of Draco in away.
Anyway, it's really not like Ginny and Ron to be acting this way. I haven't heard from either of them either. I say you gather up all of your courage, march right over there and get them out of the house. Good luck!
Sent: July 6th, 9:24 AM
To: The Twins
Subject: Ron and Ginny
Fred and George,
I haven't heard from Ron or Ginny all summer. Are they alright?
From: The Fab Two
Sent: July 8th, 2:17 AM
To: Ron's ex-girlfriend who also happens to be Ginny's girlfriend but in an entirely different way
Subject: Why does everyone say 'Fred' first?
How did you get our e-mail address?
George (Fred's answering nature's call)
Sent: July 9th, 7:45 AM
To: The dorks
Subject: Because George and Fred doesn't have the same ring to it
You sent me a forward once and I saved your e-mail address incase of emergencies. I didn't need to know where Fred was. And you guys didn't answer my question.
From: The Fantastic 4 minus 2
Sent: July 9th, 3:48 PM
To: The insane woman who's up at 7:45 in the morning
Subject: George and Fred has an excellent ring to it, what are you talking about?
They've been a bit depressed lately. But don't worry, Bill came home today and has been pushing us all around. We'll update you if there're any changes in our younger siblings.
Forge…or should we say Gred?
Sent: July 9th, 6:30 PM
Subject: Definitely risk it
I've just received confirmation from the twins that both Ginny and Ron are depressed. You really have to help them! Please? Gosh, I feel so useless over here.
End Author's Note: Whew, I got through it. This turned out much, much different from what I originally planned it to be. See, it was supposed to be like HHI with just everyone's POV but then I got the brain fart to keep the story centered around the people who actually attend Hogwarts and to have an e-mail section at the end as a sort of way to tell what's happening to Harry, Draco, and Hermione. I stole the e-mail idea from 'The Naked Quidditch Match' story. A great story, you should all read it. Well, how did you guys like it? I hope you liked it. I really do. Sequels are tricky.