So here's the chapter that ties everything together. It's mostly dialogue, since I had to explain things, but I promise the madness gets better next chapter. -Misty
My life is a swirling vortex of madness…hypothetically. And right in the middle of said hypothetical vortex, is an old man with long gray hair.
That man is the God of bad luck, and he sits on a throne in the swirling madness, developing ways to make my life a hell of a lot harder. I mean just look at everything that's happened to me since last night.
And let me tell you, he does his job well. I've never in my life seen someone who does their job better. I mean, the man should get a promotion, and if I won't pissed at him, I would relay his boss that message. He's in cahoots with everyone, and I bet he's the reason I got a bad mark on my last exam.
The bloody bastard.
Harry finally gave up on opening the door, and was sitting on the edge of the tower. "What do you want to do?" He asked.
"We could plot out revenge on Hermione." I suggested.
He raised an eyebrow. "That's not such a good idea."
"And why not?" I asked.
"Because whatever she cooks up, to get us right back will be ten times worse."
I hadn't thought about that. "Good point." I told him.
"Well we have to get down from here." He decided.
I looked at him. "How in the bloody hell are we going to do that?"
He gave me a confused look. "You're a witch right?"
I nodded. "What's the plan?"
He looked over his shoulder, and down to the ground. "You're going to elevate me, and slowly put me down." He said simply.
My eyes went wide. "What if I drop you?!" That would not be good; I'm pretty sure he's allergic to internal bleeding.
"You won't, I trust you." He smiled.
Well I'm glad somebody does. You remember the bad luck guy? Yeah…
"Okay, well how am I going to get down?" I asked. I was really worried about this small detail in his great plan.
"Easy." He said. "I'm going to nick my broom, and come get you." He smiled.
I let out a sigh of relief. I wouldn't have to worry about falling.
Harry clapped his hands together, and stood up on the wall. "You ready?"
I nodded slowly, and took out my wand; my hand was trembling a bit. I was praying to Merlin that this would end without broken bones or said internal bleeding. The thought of the savior of the Wizarding world dangling at the end of my unstable wand, over the edge of a tall tower, did not sit well with me.
I said as much to Harry, but he just waved it off, and told me to get on with it.
I took a deep breath, said the spell, and in an instant he was in the air. I slowly moved my wand, and put him out over the very hard ground.
It went off without a hitch.
Well except the part where he got three feet from the ground and I lost my concentration and I let him go.
This caused his body to make a whooshing sound, followed by a loud thump, followed by a cry of "OW!" then I followed suit, and made a cry of "Holy shit Harry!"
But he just jumped up and yelled something about "Having worse." Then he added, "Be right back." Then he ran off.
I felt bad about letting him fall, but since he didn't die, I decided that was a check in the pro column; if there was a pro column at this point.
I leaded back against the half wall and waited for Harry to come back, and as I did someone touched my shoulder from behind.
I half screamed. "Don't do that!" I yelled. I started turning around. "You scared—" But I stopped when I fully turned around, and saw that it was not Harry.
I held up my wand.
Standing on the wall, was a man. A short, balding man, in light pink robes.
My mind instantly screamed Death Eater. But then I was wondering why the hell a death eater would be dressed in pink. I didn't think Voldemort required his minions to dress like a girl.
"Hello." He said.
He pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment, and looked at it. "You're Ginevra Molly Weasley?"
I cut my eyes; wand still held high. "Who wants to know?"
He smiled and put the parchment away. "The names Frank."
"Are you the Bad luck God?" I suddenly asked. I was totally being over dramatic about that whole bad luck guy thing earlier. I was just saying.
"No." He said. "I'm the wizard of Love."
What the hell? I repeat what the hell?
"The wizard of what?" My mouth was hanging open.
"Love" he said.
"When did the Ministry hire one of those?" I wondered. I didn't remember seeing it on the list of jobs for my O.W.L.S.
"I don't work for the Ministry." He said. "I work for the man upstairs. My job is to make sure the right people fall in love with each other."
I looked up. "Oh." Well that explains it…kind of.
"Oh is right, young miss. I haven't had to make a personal house call in two hundred and forty five years, I usually work from home. But since the two of you are being so thick, I decided to personally intervene."
"The two of us?"
He raised his eyebrow, and then it clicked. My eyes went wide.
"You and Harry James have been written in the book, since before the two of you were born. Which has only happened a few times in history actually, usually couples don't get chosen until after they're at least born."
My mouth was hanging open like a dead fish.
"You two are going to be the death of me. I can't count the number of times I've tried to plant the idea in your heads. But alas, the both of you ignore me. I thought my little stunt last night would drive the two of you together." He sighed. "That boy is rubbish with girls."
"What stu—YOU!!!! YOU!!!!" I shouted. "You left that stupid bloody ink bottle on the floor!!"
He grinned, and I pointed my wand higher. "I should hex you right now, that hurt."
"It got lover boy to carry you away didn't it?" He retorted.
I stared at him. "Wait you were in the girls dorm?"
He rolled his eyes. "No one was in there, and besides, I closed my eyes."
But I was no longer paying attention; his earlier comment was raging in my mind.
"What did you mean about you can't count the number of times?"
He smiled again. "Do you remember that Jumper you lost your first year, or the time your idiot brother suggested that young Harry accompany you to the Yule Ball? Or maybe you remember that great idea you suddenly got about sending Harry a valentine? Or maybe your friends great idea just now to lock the two of you up?"
My mouth was hanging open like a dead Dragon.
He brushed his fingers, across his robes and blew on them. "All me." he announced.
No effin way.
"What…you…how…why?" I couldn't process it all.
"But as I said earlier, the both of you are thick, so I've decided to personally come."
This is not real, this cannot be real. No way, I'm not buying it.
"Yes this is real. And you better buy it."
My eyes went wide; I didn't say that out loud.
He rolled his eyes. "I can real minds. It's all part of the job. And I must say that you have the most psychotic mind I've ever encountered."
"So." I said trying to keep up. "Everything that's ever happened between the two of us, you did."
"No." He said. "I've only had my hand in a few things. For instance, your friends essay, which led to the two of you hiding. You did that all on your own."
"But it was a nice touch. I couldn't have done better myself." He jumped down, and sat on the wall.
"So now that you're here?" I asked. "What are you going to do?" I really, really, wanted to know that.
He smiled again, and that was really starting to get on my nerves. "Wouldn't you like to know? But I guess you'll find out soon enough. " He pointed over my shoulder. "See you later." Then he disappeared. But he came right back. "By the way, you're the only one that can see me." Then he was gone again.
I turned around and there in the air, on his acquired broom, was one Harry James.
Oh sodding hell.