20Title: Unfortunate
Summary: Hogwarts was home, and it was time they protected her.
Characters: Alecto Carrow, Amycus Carrow, assorted Hogwarts staff members, and Peeves
Rating: T
Written for: Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Season Six, Round Three (More details at the end.)
Beta-ed by: June
Warnings: Lots of slang and cuss words, hence the T rating. Also, I've mentioned two torture devices called Brazen Bull and the "rack" in the passing. Do not Google them if you're squeamish.
Disclaimer: JKR is a genius, let's bow down to her.
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Unfortunate
(Or the one where Alecto has a really bad day.)
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Alecto Carrow usually wakes up to the fearful voice of her house-elf trying to do its job, which is why she'd never anticipated being woken up the way that she is right now—to the sound of trumpeting elephants.
Pulling her wand out from under her pillow by instinct, she jumps out of her bed, wildly searching for where the sound is emanating from. As the fog of sleep clears out from her senses, she realises that the dreadful sound is coming from the Muggle grandfather clock in the corner—the very same clock that she'd been unable to remove from its place when she'd first taken up employment as Hogwarts' Muggle Studies teacher.
Inching towards the corner where the instrument stands, her heart beating uncontrollably, she casts a Lumos to survey the scene—if it's one of those snot-faced students being up to no good, she swears she'll make them spend an hour in her Brazen Bull—and much to her disappointment, she finds that there's no brat to be found. Flicking her wand upward towards the face of the clock, she notes with horror that it's an unholy half-four in the morning.
Irritated, she casts a Reducto at the clock, but of course, the clock remains impervious to magic, just like it had when she and Amycus had tried their level best to get rid of it a few months back. A while later, when screaming a few more explosive spells does not do the trick, Alecto resorts to a Silencio, just so she can try to get back to sleep.
But by then, her head is pounding, and the sound of trumpeting elephants is embedded onto her mind like a worm in an apple.
x
This time when Alecto wakes up, it's to cold water being poured onto her face by her irate twin.
"What the–"
"Get up, you lousy lump. Your useless house-elf has been trying to wake you up for the past two hours," says Amycus, not lowering his wand.
She makes an attempt to push the wand and its stream of water out of her face, but Amycus is relentless, and only stops when she's fully out of her bed, shaking her wet clothes.
"You got my Hippogriff-feather blanket wet," she complains, but her brother merely sneers at her.
"You're a Deputy Headmistress. You don't want the Dark Lord thinking you're skiving off your duties, do you? If Snape reports this–"
"Calm your Thestrals, it's only a Saturday," she tells him snootily, but he growls in response.
"Today's the day the rats are going home for Yule. You're supposed to be escorting them to Hogsmeade."
"Oh. But get this, that dratted clock woke me up at four, sounding like an elephant of all things, and I couldn't sleep for an hour after that because–"
"They'll be leaving in ten minutes, you should really get dressed. You look like a hag," Amycus continues, as if he doesn't care.
When she glares at him, he shrugs his shoulders and says, "At least you missed breakfast. Everything had too much salt, even the damn croissants. And that Gryffindor bitch had the nerve to tell me it was probably my taste buds, because none of them found it salty. If Snape hadn't threatened me–"
"I don't care about your breakfast; get out of my room," she hisses, and Amycus hisses back in similar fashion.
"Bloody shrew," he mutters as he steps out of her private chambers.
"Poxy codger," she calls out in return, but Amycus has closed the door—or more precisely, banged the door shut—by then.
x
Interacting with the students is a nightmare as always, but the prospect of opportunity for torture makes it tolerable. It's so much fun, how their pasty faces become pale with fear, every time she mentions her beloved rack or her Brazen Bull. And threatening to take away their Hogwarts Express tickets as they stand in line to occupy the carriages outside is just an added bonus. In her not so humble opinion, the job she has is undeniably more exciting than what Amycus has to do—he's in charge of ensuring that those who have been denied permission to leave all stay put.
But despite getting to bully children, most of whom are dirty Half-bloods and blood traitors, the rest of the day goes terribly for Alecto.
x
Lunch with the people remaining at Hogwarts drags on, with Amycus continually complaining about how salty the food is and how he'd like to behead the house-elves, every time he nibbles at a morsel.
At one point, Snape snaps and says in that monotone of his, "I believe that only the Headmaster has the power to behead the house-elves, and at this point, the food is fine. The Dark Lord would be displeased to know you whine so much."
That, of course, makes Alecto crack up, and in return, Amycus just throws her a murderous glare from the other end of the table.
When she exits the Great Hall, in the corridor right outside, Peeves, the pesky creature, relentlessly unloads buckets of Hippogriff manure upon her unsuspecting form, and then cackles at her, saying she must be used to it, because she's nothing more than a bag o' shite.
In a flash of fury, she whips out her wand to cast a hex that would embowel the bellend, but Peeves is faster than her, and disappears after snapping his fingers.
It's all the more embarrassing because the entire thing happens right outside the Great Hall doors, and it's obvious that everyone there saw the entire spectacle. In fact, Alecto's pretty sure that Sprout, the fat cow, laughed at her predicament, and so she whirls around to cast a nice Crucio on the tart, but Snape glares at her warningly, and she needs to let it go.
She's forced to swallow her pride and walk away (metaphorically) when she realises that quite a bit of the animal excrement has gotten into her mouth from when she tried to curse the Herbology teacher.
Disgusted by the rancid taste and smell, Alecto takes a moment to glare at the rat-like children who are busy trying to act like they're unamused, before stalking away from the Great Hall in a huff.
The entire time back to her quarters, as she continuously casts refreshing charms under her nose, she mentally composes a list of people to take revenge on, and the first entry in it is Pomona Sprout.
x
An hour later, Alecto finds herself relaxing in one of the large tubs of perfumed warm water in the Prefects' Bathroom. Her own private bathroom isn't quite as comfortable as this one, and Alecto decides that maybe this is Mother Magic's way of compensating for the bollocks day she's been having so far.
When she'd finally climbed thirty flights of stairs to get to her room, she'd found that the portrait which guarded her door had been replaced by a blank canvas. Yelling for twenty minutes straight had brought the wheezing and arthritic manservant to her aid, and he had been the one to suggest that she use the Prefect's Bathroom. In fact, much to her delight, he'd said that it was hardworking people like her that truly deserved such a bathroom, and that had inflated Alecto's ego just a little bit.
Allowing the tub to drain and fill up once again with fresh warm water, she opens the purple vial she'd found in one of the cabinets, and pours the liquid inside. The label on the vial had proclaimed it to be a sparkling bubble bath, and that excites Alecto, because ever since she was a child, she's liked bubbles.
Smiling as the bubbles pop around her, Alecto holds her breath and bends forward so that her head too is submerged in the water. Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she scrubs vigorously at her face—even though she'd gotten the putrid substance off her body, she still feels filthy. Maybe this is how Mudbloods feel everyday, is the stunning epiphany that she comes to.
Feeling radiant with that thought, she sits up straight in the tub, smiling benignly, and opens her eyes.
At first, she doesn't notice the coppery strands shimmering in the water. Not entirely sure what those could be, she runs a hand through her tresses to sort out the tangles. She stops midway, when she doesn't feel the gentle tugs her scalp is supposed to be feeling. When she brings her hand forward, she chokes on air.
Clumps of her hair, tangled with her fingers, lie on her palm, and as she looks around, she finds that the tub's surface has long beautiful tendrils floating inanimately.
It gets harder to breathe, but when the oxygen finally hits her lungs, she starts shrieking like a banshee.
x
Irma doesn't bother to knock on the door. She throws it open, and that kills the conversation that's going on inside. Closing the door gently, she turns to regard the few teachers who had been deemed flight risks by the Death Eaters, a glint in her eyes.
"I know," she says deliberately, and Filius chokes over his glass of Firewhisky—they all have drinks in their hands; it's obvious they're celebrating.
"I don't know–" starts Slughorn, but Irma cuts him off.
"I knew something was going on when Argus asked me for books on art restoration practices. I'm not criticising what you did; I just want to know how. The elephants that the female Carrow was raving about at lunch—it has something to do with you lot, doesn't it?"
Pomona looks around at her colleagues, before shrugging as if to say what the hell.
"Yes," she says, smiling proudly, gesturing for Irma to sit down, which the librarian does. "That was us. Filius charmed the clock Albus gifted Charity for her sixtieth birthday to wake that vile woman up."
Irma looks at the Charms professor, and finds him sporting a smug look.
"And her being bald? I saw her howling into her brother's arms as they went to find Snape."
"That was all me—I mixed a hair removal potion with a bottle of bubble bath and left it where she would find it," says Horace, and the picture starts becoming clearer.
"And to make sure she had a bath, you had Peeves dump the greenhouse manure on her. Sh-she didn't use her own bathroom, did she? You lot had Argus use paint remover on her portrait door! And if she used a bathroom students use, you could always say she took someone else's bottle by mistake! This is genius!"
There's an air of victory in the room, and Irma can't help but smile with them.
"Why didn't you do this to her brother? He's just as bad."
Filius squeals and replies, "I believe we got a head start on that; didn't we, Minerva?"
Irma furrows her eyebrows and says slowly, "The salt?"
"I transfigured cutlery to look like metal but taste of rock-salt, but it went to the wrong Carrow; I guess Pomona wasn't clear enough to the elves," says the Transfiguration teacher acerbically, and Pomona scoffs.
"I was more concerned about getting Peeves to work with us and not go tattling, but I guess even that rascal knows when to step up and help Hogwarts," she says, and Slughorn nods his head serenely.
"All's well that ends well," he adds.
Irma grins at them conspiratorially and states, "You know, the only way I don't go tattling on you is if you include me—so, what's the plan for tomorrow?"
x
End notes:
In the movies, Alecto had auburn hair, so I stuck to that. The hair thing was inspired by "Nair cocktails" which were pretty popular in a particular teenage drama show. And the Pince/Filch thing was something Harry picked on in HBP; I just used that. ;)
Written For: Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Season Six, Round Three
Word Count: 1924 (according to Word)
Prompt: Home Alone
Position: Seeker, Puddlemere United