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Don't Drink The Water! | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Alternate Universe, Muggle Field Trip Challenge (2007-2) Characters:All, All, All Genres: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Humor Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 25 Summary: ** Winner of Most Adventurous in the Muggle Field Trip Challenge ** What an incredible idea they've come up with! Baby-sit a few Muggle Studies students, and get a nice vacation in Vienna, Austria. What could possibly go wrong? All they have to do is ensure the change machines don't break down, and they'll all have a marvelous time. Written for the Muggle Field Trip 2007 Challenge. Hitcount: Story Total: 15051; Chapter Total: 3816 |
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“When you come to a fork in the road….take it”–-Yogi Berra “I cannot believe that you would do that to us Uncle Waldo! You’re a Weasley!” Ron screamed at the old man. “No…no actually I’m not. I’m a Caufelter; Waldo Caufelter. My mother was the Weasley, but she surrendered that name when she married my father over a hundred years ago.” The man started to rise from his desk to make his point stronger, but something had gone out of him in just the few minutes since we confronted him. “Then what would she say about your selling us to Voldemort Uncle?” Ginny countered. Unlike Ron, she was controlling her anger. She was painfully aware that it would have to wait until we could rescue ourselves, the hotel and the Muggle guests. “I believe that Great, Great, Great, Great Aunt…uhm. I beg your pardon, I don’t know her first name, but I am certain that she would be very disappointed in you.” “Her name is Ginevra. You didn’t know that you were named for her? Curious.” The man just sat there exchanging a long stare with a startled Ginny. Even I could tell that some sort of conflict raging inside the man was diminishing him by the moment. “I…I…I am sorry.” “Be sorry later Mr. Caufelter. Be helpful now,” Harry told him. “We need to summon help.” “Harry I’m afraid that the hotel’s telephones are inoperable at this time,” Mr. Harris informed all of us. “The internet terminals as well it seems. I was observing your Professor Marvel trying to lecture about computers just before I met up with you. They went down just as he was trying to explain something called fan fiction. Your classmates seemed to be extremely fascinated with that.” “Actually, that was my doing as well. The lines have been cut. This castle’s location is ideally located for the Death Eaters’ purposes. Not only is it a secluded portion of Zagreb, it is ringed by those foothills allowing only the one road in and out. Yes, I did apply anti-Apparation wards. No, they cannot be removed for a full day.” Waldo rattled all of this off as if he were creating a worse-case scenario for a story. In a way I suppose that he was. “Can we evacuate everyone cross-country?” I asked. “This is a war zone, or at least it was. There are very likely residual areas of landmines,” Hermione rightly pointed out. “We’d be sitting ducks on the road,” Ron added. “Harry, I wouldn’t expect much from Professor Marvel’s N.E.W.T. students. I doubt that there is one of them that could hurl a halfway decent stun bolt, let alone go toe-to-toe with a Death Eater. We’d be better off relying on the Muggles to help us.” “What an excellent idea Mr. Weasley,” Richard Harris told him. “Could you explain what this Apparation he mentioned is exactly?” “It’s actually our word for what you might call teleporting,” I said, wondering if Ron might not be able to define it in Muggle terms. “Excellent. Mr. Caufelter, how far away must someone be from this resort before they could transport themselves away?” All of us had our eyes on the actor, seeing that he had some semblance of a plan forming. “It is set at arbitrary distances from here, the farthest being just under two miles out,” Waldo said in a sleepy voice, his eyes closed. “I see what you mean sir. If someone could manage to slip away, carefully avoiding any explosive devices en route and then Apparate somewhere where they could contact help…” “That would be me Harry,” I told him. “Now don’t go getting all noble on me. I’m expendable, I’m mostly worthless in a fight anyway, and none of Professor Marvel’s group would be able to use a telephone. I have no illusions about being able to find a Floo fireplace in this city. I suppose our best bet would be to call that actual Austrian hotel to see if our backup is still waiting around for us.” “Spenser, we could send off this owl,” Hermione suggested. Looking at it there, still on Mr. Harris’ arm, we knew that the exhausted bird would take far too long even if it could fly right away. “Hermione…trust me for once. It will work. What is the worst that could happen if…” Her stern look shut me up instantly. I had never convinced myself that she liked me, but regardless, there was a glint of concern in her eyes…for maybe two seconds. “We’ll need to delay the Death Eaters until that help does comes, preferably staying alive until they do.” Harry evidently didn’t have a ghost of an idea, and it showed on his face. Richard Harris did however, and he again gave us all a calm, reassuring smile. “I’m reminded of an American film that I watched last Christmas,” he said. “We may require the help of some non-magical people–-some you feel are reliable. Yes, I fully realize that you would never normally utilize us in the manner I am about to describe…perhaps at all for that matter. From what I have seen however, your classmates and teacher may not be much help.” “We can alter Muggle memories sir,” Ginny explained. “I believe that we can forego that with you Mr. Harris, if you can remain discrete,” she added, seeing that disappointment had flashed across his face. She began to examine his features more carefully then, and suddenly her eyes shot wide-open with some stray idea. “Mr. Harris, have you ever grown a beard…a very long one…I mean for one of your roles as an actor?” “What? Why yes…yes, I have. Why do you ask?” Those that observed the twelve masked men in equally strange robes were struck with fear more than curiosity. They walked down the road toward the castle in a loose formation, brandishing what only a small child openly called magic wands. The Muggles retreated indoors, locking doors and pulling shutters closed as if in a scene from an old western. The twelve had been instructed that, in this case, they were to avoid harming the non-Magics they encountered, at least until their primary objective was achieved. Preliminary intelligence had indicated that this and the countries to the south were engaged in some sort of armed conflict. The Muggles would not be able to defeat them with their crude weapons, but they might be able to slow them and/or warn their intended targets. There was also the possibility that there could be Wizards and Witches in the vicinity who would object to having their countrymen slain by foreigners. It would be an unwanted complication. On and on they marched, clearly not in any hurry, assuming that the old fool who ran the Muggle hotel would do as he said to cut off outside communications and hold them there. Sometimes, they knew, gold could be as powerful as magic, especially with Waldo Caufelter. It sickened them to a man thinking that a Wizard would willingly associate with Muggles, let alone cater to them. Lord Voldemort had been extremely specific about what was to be done with him and his castle before they left. It was early afternoon when the group finally passed through the small hills separating the rest of the city from the secluded lake resort. The road ran past a long field that held the remains of a large Muggle machine with huge fans under sagging cross pieces. One Dark Wizard incorrectly identified the broken airplane as being a large sunflower harvester. Considering how poorly it had flown, it might have been more effective as that. The road eventually came to a three-way intersection. One led to the small village, and the other two went toward the castle, albeit for one a longer route by way of the lake. Barely able to make out a small crowd on the distant beach, a silent decision was made to split up and take all three roads in search of Harry and the blood traitors. Three Death Eaters started toward the lake, quickening their pace so as to be able to rapidly rejoin their associates further on if they could not locate those they sought. The men, while magically competent, were at a disadvantage in two ways. First, they were overconfident about their abilities and the element of surprise. Second, none of them had ever taken a Muggle Studies course. As they came closer to the swimmers, they noticed that most of the girls were wearing something that had to be just very skimpy underwear. A few of them didn’t even have that much on. The Death Eaters, apart from all else, were normal red-blooded British males, and here before them were seven or eight girls wearing (or not wearing) mere patches of cloth. Their reaction was all the delay that Ron and Professor Marvel required. “Stupefy!” they shouted together as they emerged from behind a lifeguard shack. The third Death Eater spun about and took two running steps forward before the lariat wrapped around his ankle and he was pulled off his feet. Before the Dark Wizard could react, Rory Cornswaggler kicked the wand out his hand and hogtied him. When the downed man began to recite a wandless spell, Rory delivered his own non-magical heavy stun using a large fist. As Ron and the professor bound the other two, and then moved all of them into the shack, Ron saw Rory pull off his light jacket, approach and then drape it over Annette’s shoulders (even though she had the most conservative swimsuit of the group). “Hey Rory, welcome to Europe mate,” Ron told the cowboy, and received grins back from both Americans. The worst part of the trip out was crawling through the brush with a sharp wooden stick, probing every inch as I went. Granted, there were a few places where I could move quickly, such as the occasional animal tracks showing safe passage, or a rock outcropping that was too large to have a mine underneath it. Without these breaks, I would be on that hill until the following winter. Twice I found something that strongly suggested a device. Twice I backed up and scanned the area for a new route. I knew that I couldn’t have traveled too far from the castle, and the second time I retreated, I was able to spot the hotel and confirm my fears. I was maybe a mile out and above it. In over two hours I had come only halfway. Calculating the remaining distance, the time it would take to find a working telephone in a country where I didn’t speak the language, and however long the cavalry needed to arrive from Austria… Well it was time for one those really stupid things that I sometimes attempt. Luna was going to skin me alive when I got back to school. I just hoped that she recovered soon before trying to sell Hogwarts in a huge real estate deal. “Accio landmines!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, wand in hand. I really hate it when I’m right sometimes. Five more Death Eaters walked up to the castle, not familiar enough with the scene to understand that there should have been more people about. Waldo had earlier been persuaded to use the public address system to announce that everyone needed to return to their rooms because the floorshow’s two trained lions had escaped. They were roaming the hotel grounds and hallways, and neither had been fed in days due to budget cutbacks. One Hufflepuff student thought that the voice from nowhere was God speaking to them. The ruse worked, and most of the students retreated to the relative safety of their hotel rooms. Only a very few, who had not been inside at the time to hear it, or simply didn’t want to miss the excitement, remained stirring about. Just as their friends had been, these five Wizards were both arrogant and ignorant. They were however somewhat efficient when they needed to be. A quick discussion between them resulted in the decision to enter the building through different doors, and then regroup to avoid undue attention too soon. Their masks had already been removed and stored in the pockets of their robes. After the other four had moved off, the remaining Death Eater approached the revolving door and began to study it. Pushing on one of the panes of glass, he became frustrated when it would not move for him. He was even more angry when he allowed a Muggle teenager to walk up and surprise him. “Mister I’m afraid that you’ll need to put coins in the slot there in order for it to move. Here you go. You can pay me back later; I’m here all week. Those small copper ones are what you want to use.” The Death Eater stared at the girl, not recognizing her as one of his intended victims, and not sure what to make of the offer. He gave the door another shove, and almost pulled his wand to blast it away. The explosion however would surely be heard, and surprise lost. Grabbing the coins away from her, and without a word, he fed the two copper tokens into the door, and was pleased to see it work then. That is, it did until he found himself trapped inside it. Brandishing his wand, he moved to shatter the door, but before he could, one of the remaining coins burst into a puff of heavy purple smoke. The gases from it caused the Dark Wizard to immediately fall asleep. Hermione stepped out from her hiding place behind the money exchange booth, placed the correct change in the slot and with the Muggles’ help pulled the door and its victim back out. Without thinking, she magically bound the man and levitated him to cover. She cursed herself when she saw the reaction. “Well uhm, you see…oh very well! I’m a Witch and I used magic to subdue and restrain this man. I promise you that you were never in danger while you were helping me.” Five more people to have their memories altered. “That’s a good one. You do the magic show on stage here when you’re not working security don’t you?” a short, chubby man with a bad haircut said. The others started nodding in agreement and then even applauded. None of them believed her confession. “If we help you subdue the other international jewel thieves, do you think that we might see some more?” “Actually…I can almost guarantee it,” she told him, hoping they didn’t recognize the relief in her voice. Over the next half-hour, the four remaining castle Death Eaters succumbed to an electrically booby trapped doorknob, an escalator that accelerated from zero to seventy in heartbeat (embedding the man in an upstairs wall), the old chase the unsuspecting sap into a trap with a loud gangster movie tape trick, and an angry mob of Monopoly players who were told the final Wizard had been cheating. All but that last one were quietly secured by Harry and the others, always with the assistance of unsuspecting Muggles. The fifth Death Eater barely escaped with a pewter thimble and dog shoved up his nose, and paper cuts from Chance and Community Chest cards. He headed straight toward the village and his companions. “Kronkspiff! What happened? Where are the others?” one asked. “I don’t know! Gone! I was attacked by a large group of Muggles!” “What? Did you find Potter and his friends? No? We should not have separated!” another yelled. “We should not…” “You should not have come at all actually.” The five Death Eaters whirled about with wands up, leveled against the newcomer, and then just as shaken at the sight before them as their associates had been at the nude beach. “Ah, I see that you are puzzled. You need not be. I assure you, there is a perfectly sensible explanation.” The momentary delay was all Harry and the others needed to shift the situation to their advantage. Harry stepped out of a glass shop with Ginny to his left, again trading the secret of their relationship for the comfort and tactical advantage she always gave him. Ron emerged from the dry goods store across the street with Professor Marvel, and, true to character, Hermione came out from the village bookstore. The battlefield was now level, but that did not calm Harry at all. Mr. Harris was still under their wands, and all about them were Muggles awaiting what they thought was another show. The Death Eaters began to realize their situation, and they did not like it. More than half their number was now missing, and there was little chance they could complete their mission without further losses…if at all. Restrictions about hurting Muggles were obviously now to be disregarded, but that could be used to their advantage. The weakling Potter would no doubt move to protect them. The largest unknown factor however was the man standing before them. He suddenly turned his back on the five, raised and motioned his hand as if offering the Death Eaters to Harry, and then deliberately walked at a slow pace into an adjacent tea house. The tallest of the group spoke to the others in a voice too low to make out, especially with a now-cheering Muggle crowd. Harry hoped that he was wrong about what was just said. He wasn’t. Ron, Ginny, and Harry threw Stupefy bolts at the Death Eaters while Hermione and Professor Marvel ran toward the Muggles shouting at them to get to cover. They were now the targets. The Death Eaters easily deflected the stun bolts, and, in return, employed much stronger magic against Wizard and Muggle alike. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were completely occupied with blocking the Dark spells, and Professor Marvel was unable to escape a grazing bolt that threw him back into a store window. Harry alone was left to press an offensive. He finally disarmed and then stunned the tall Death Eater, but the others rallied around him to offer protection until he could recover. It appeared that the advantage had swung back the other way. Harry looked desperately for a way out, angry now at the Muggles watching the fight and oblivious to the danger. A bolt cut his non-wand forearm, but he had to ignore it. Harry stepped forward and utilized a stronger spell to drop another Death Eater, but, at almost the same moment, he saw a Muggle hit in the leg and fall. The man’s companions finally stopped cheering. Harry felt, more than saw, Ginny move in beside him. She was going to help him press the fight, trusting Ron and Hermione to the job of protecting their audience. They had to win this fight immediately, but how could they amid so many innocents? It seemed hopeless. That was when the section from the airplane tail fell from the sky and landed directly atop the group of Dark Wizards. The crowd once again went wild. After three minutes of wild Muggle celebrating, Kingsley Shacklebolt and seven of his Aurors walked out onto the street, wands away, but no doubt at the ready. “Hello Harry. Enjoying your holiday?” Shacklebolt asked. He was smiling, but clearly confused as well. “I’m sorry we couldn’t step in sooner. I wasn’t sure what all the Muggles were doing here, and we… Oh my word!” “They all think that it is a large performance young man. Ah, I see that you believe that there is a resemblance as well. It did prove to be useful at first.” “You…you?” “Richard Harris, Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt,” Ginny told him in an amused voice. “We’ll explain later. I trust that Spenser found you.” “Yes, he did finally. He had some nasty flesh wounds from an explosion, and it took him fourteen Apparations across two countries to reach us, but he did make it there about an hour ago.” “What? He was supposed to telephone you from downtown Zagreb,” Hermione told him. “The Vienna hotel where we were waiting for you wouldn’t accept a collect call.” “Excuse me for a moment. Oh, and Miss Weasley, I would like to wait a bit to dispense with this beard.” Richard Harris walked over to where the now-bound taller Death Eater was about to be led off. Neither he nor the Aurors were entirely sure who was actually standing before them. “My dear fellow, I told you that you shouldn’t have bothered to come. There was never any chance of your succeeding.” “Hah! Why do you say that?” he defiantly asked. “Why? Why indeed? You fight just like a Muggle.” Harris immediately turned away from the Death Eater, and walked back to Harry and Ginny. “I somehow felt that saying that would be the finest insult I could deliver to the man.” “It was,” Harry laughed. “Now young Harry and Ginny, all great performances require a romantic moment to compliment the dramatic finale…or they should. The Muggle world…that portion that is your audience here at least…awaits you.” Harry and Ginny just blankly stared at the actor, not understanding his meaning. “I see. This is the place in the script where the annoying old man calls out ‘Don’t just stand there…kiss her you fool’.” How could Harry and Ginny possible refuse such a request from Albus Dumbledore. Zagreb is not Vienna, not even close, but it is none-the-less a fascinating city. After extracting refunds from Uncle Waldo, those that didn’t immediately seek out transportation home obtained more appropriate hotel accommodations. Our Hogwarts group found a wonderful little inn just north of the new Belgian Embassy, and, this time, the five of us ensured that our rooms were adjacent to each other. “How are we going to pay for all of this Harry?” Ron asked, again in an embarrassed tone. “I can answer that,” I told all of them. “I got an owl from your dad, and it’s finally good news. First, Luna’s made a full recovery.” “How full?” Hermione asked. “She’s begun to plan an expedition to Antarctica to search out the illusive tap-dancing penguin. She is refusing to accept that those are not tuxedos the birds are wearing.” “Ah…she’s back,” Ginny laughed. The rest of us joined in. “Also, there is the matter of the money she invested for us.” Everyone went quiet when I said that. “It turns out that Professor McGonagall was wrong. Luna didn’t invest in miniature dollhouse windows. She put the money into Microsoft just before they introduced a new version of their Windows computer software. We all made a nice profit overnight.” Yes, Zagreb had all manner of attractions. Ron, on a whim, took several of the N.E.W.T. students, along with some Muggle friends we had made, and located an especially nice pizza restaurant. At first the Wizards were a bit leery about the flat, red dough. For some strange reason, it was difficult for them to understand. Ron and the Muggles pressed their point however, and it did not take long for delighted coos to be heard from all the tables. Later, Hermione got her wish when Ron treated her to a nice carriage ride through the city’s large municipal park. They did not get to enjoy any opera or art exhibits, but the two had a nice candlelight supper alone that she admitted afterward was special in itself. Harry and Ginny, on the other hand, decided to spend their last day exploring. The commuter rail system was still in excellent condition despite the recent fighting in the area, and, in fact, they both had to look hard to find any serious damage as they traveled about. When we returned to England, I obtained some photographs of Bosnia. I actually scared them. “Here’s a nice café Harry. I’d like to eat at this one.” “Why this…oh!” Despite the fading light, Harry and Ginny both walked up to the statue of the dragon before them and were able to spend several minutes inspecting it before finding a table. “Any idea how we’re going to order?” “We can just close our eyes and point at something. Where is your sense of adventure?” “Ginny what if we select deep-fried cow tongue? Ah, well this trip was meant to be a learning experience. You…uh…do think that everyone learned something don’t you?” “I certainly did. When Aunt Ginevra arrived to take charge of Uncle Waldo, we had an excellent talk about our family history. I don’t know if she was a more merciful punishment for him or not.” Harry laughed for a full minute at the picture that came up in his mind of that reunion. “I know what you really mean Harry. Yes, I think that we all learned a very unique lesson. It’s one that most Wizards and Witches often do not realize. Sometimes even Muggle-borns can forget it.” “What is it Ginny?” “Harry…we are all people, Muggle and Magic. It’s as simple as that.” She reached out and placed her hand on his, and then began to study his eyes. They were good eyes…strong ones…eyes that had seen so much. Harry had so much to do yet in their blasted war, but they would move forward together side by side. She was scared, but she couldn’t allow herself to be. He needed her to be strong, and she knew that he always would be for her. He reached over to kiss her, and she met him halfway. A smiling waiter retreated to give them a few more minutes before they ordered. If I wasn’t such a dense, insensitive mundark, I would have done the same thing. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over the city for you two!” “What is it Spenser?” Harry asked. He seemed a bit irritated. “It’s Ron. He’s barricaded himself in your room for protection. We need to get back and save him! Now! We’re talking life or death here!” “What is it Spenser? More Death Eaters?” Harry asked. Both of them were on their feet and despite where we were, they were about to reach for their wands. “Worse Harry…much worse! After they returned from their dinner out together, Ron showed them to her.” “What?” they said together. “Our plane tickets home for tomorrow morning. Slavic Airlines and Crop Dusting.” Mischief managed! |
| Reviews 25 |
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