Outsider Chronicles: Screw Fate!

A lot of people believe that being reborn as your favorite character would be fun, but I wonder how many of you actually think about what that would mean? It wouldn't be cool, it'd be annoying and, quite possibly, lethal. Awe well, at least I finally get the chance to tell that manipulative old man to go fuck himself.

And here we go with some more bullshit. Enjoy!

Chapter 23

"Are you alright?" asked Lizzie as I stalked through the halls.

I stopped and took a deep breath.

"I'll be fine," I said, "I just...I wish people would stop jumping to conclusions about me."

Lizzie scoffed.

"Thats likely," she said.

I just grunted in response. I stopped and lent against the wall, looking out the window next to me over the Lake.

"Its only going to get harder," I muttered, "I'm pretty sure the Dairy hasn't made it into school, but even so, I can't let my guard down."

"What are you going to do if it is here?" asked Lizzie.

"Good question," I said, "I guess it'll depend on who is targeted and how everyone else reacts. If they pin the blame on me...they can sort it out for themselves."

"Ouch, thats cold," said Lizzie.

"And I should care, why?" I said, "I mean, I could easily get into just about any school in Academy City or hell, even the Clock Tower if I wanted, although that would probably be a bad idea considering I'm basically a walking miracle with Avalon in me, if these idiots push me too far I can and WILL leave them to burn."

Lizzie stared at me with wide eyes.

"Holy Tiamat, are you sure you're not part Dragon?" she asked.

"I do have Dragons Blood," I said.

"Good point."

I snorted, before letting out a sigh as I glanced down at my wrist.

"Well, looks like its time for Lockharts lesson," I said, "Joy…"

Lizzie just rubbed my head with her wing as I headed off to the DADA classroom.

I arrived at the same time as the rest of my classmates, brushing off my friends worried questions with a smile and a 'I'm fine' as we sat down. I really wasn't looking forwards to this…

It began just as badly as I imagined, with the sparkling ponce entering the classroom with all the flourish and posture of a peacock. Oh, and he was still bloody sparkling. He reached forward, picked up Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking mug on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing at it and winking, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award. But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly, although I stayed resolutely silent, although in fairness that was because I thought I might be sick if I opened my mouth. Neville didn't look much better and Hermione looked like she was busy reevaluating everything she thought of the ponce (again). Lizzie on the other hand had crawled under my desk and was busy vomiting into Ron's bag if the sounds coming from below the desk was anything to go by.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books, well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in —"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes — start — now!"

"What the bloody hell..?" hissed Neville, staring at the questions.

"I second that notion," I muttered, before picking up my quill and beginning to write.

"You're actually doing it?" asked Neville incredulously.

I showed him the answers I had so far.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite colour?

Vomit Green.

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

To be chased by a horde of bloodthirsty, middle aged fangirls.

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

Putting his underpants on the right way around.

Neville snickered and immediately started doing something similar. Hermione noticed and looked somewhere between disapproving and amused.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the 'tests' and set about marking them. It was obvious when got to Neville and mine because his face went through a variety of colours and expressions that was rather interesting to watch.

"Ahem, yes, well," he said, looking shaken, "Hardly any of you remembered that my favorite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully as I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples, though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"

He gave us another roguish wink and I had to resist the urge to blast him with a full power Finn shot. Or see if I could teleport internal organs.

"Now, to business!" said Lockhart

He reached under his desk and pulled out a covered cage.

"Now, be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

I have to admit that the ponce knew how to play the crowd as most people in the room leant forwards as Lockhart placed a hand on the cover.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart in a low voice, "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Seamus Finnigan let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not — they're not very — dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus, "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

I had no doubt that was true, but I also had no doubt that they were hardly dangerous and could be dealt with fairly easily. They were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!"

And he opened the cage. It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like

rockets. Two of them seized Ron by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Ron was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

Neville and Hermione dove under their desks the moment Lockhart opened the cage, but I didn't bother. Instead, I tapped into my Crest and formed a quick Bounded Field that served as a solid wall of air that more than a few Pixies slammed face first into like bugs on a windscreen.

"Come on now, round them up, round them up, they're only Pixies," Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed,

"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped sprinted up to his office and dove inside, slamming the door behind him.

"HARRY, QUIT SITTING AROUND AND DO SOMETHING!" roared Hermione.

I sighed and got to my feet.

"Fine, but remember, you asked for this," I said, "Lizzie, if you don't mind."

The Dragon poked her head out from under the desk and let out a shriek that rattled the windows in their frames. The response was immediate as the Pixies froze and turned towards us.

"Right, now I've got your attention, you have a few choices," I said, "Option one, you can stay and be Lizzies lunch."

The Dragon grinned, showing off her razor sharp teeth.

"Alternatively, you can leave through the window and make a new home in the forest," I continued, "Or I can open the idiots door and you can have some fun before leaving."

The Pixies immediately gathered in a huddle and started giving off an odd buzzing sound. After a moment, one of them stepped forwards and held up three fingers. I grinned and pointed my wand at Lockharts door, which creaked open. The Pixies immediately took off and shot through the gap before it snapped shut again. A moment later, a girlish scream echoed from inside.

"And that my friends, is how you deal with a swarm of Cornish Pixies," I said, turning to the class with a grin.

Hermione, who's face had steadily becoming redder as my 'solution' became clear to everyone, finally snapped.

"GOD DAMN IT HARRY!" she roared.

I just burst out laughing.

Following the disastrous first DADA lesson, things mostly calmed down. After my scolding of Colin, he hadn't approached me again, although I had made a point to apologize to him and explain my dislike of my fame. It wasn't his fault he got swept up in the 'Potter fan club' after all. As an added bonus, after I explained the actual reason why I was famous without hyperbole or the myth that had been added to the story, he had given me a very confused look and outright said that he thought the entire thing was stupid. My response had been to burst out laughing.

In other news, through no fault of my own, I had acquired a redheaded shadow. As expected, Ginny had developed a rather annoying habit of popping up wherever I was. I think she had somehow got her hands on a copy of my timetable or something. It didn't help that Lockhart was just as bad and he was far more aggressive in trying to talk to me. Eventually I resorted to using my Cloak and a multitude of secret passages to avoid the annoying fraud.

October quickly rolled around and more and more people were turning up to classes with steam spewing from their ears from Pomfrey's Pepper up potions. Classes were going well for us all, although Lockharts were as useless as ever. As an added bonus, no hissing in the walls and thanks to Ginny's apparent overexposure to pepper ups, I could see her coming a mile away thanks to her impression of the Hogwarts express. As such, I was in a good mood, despite the driving rain, as I made my way back to the Common Room after some time studying in the Library.

". . . don't fulfill their requirements . . . half an inch, if that . . ."

I paused as the sound of someone muttering to themselves floated into my ears. I turned the corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick floating in the hallway, gazing out the window morosely

"Hello, Nick," I said as I approached.

"Hello, hello," said Nearly Headless Nick.

"Are you OK?" I asked, "You look down."

"Ah," Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance. . . . It's not as though I really wanted to join. . . .Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements'..."

In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you," he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, "that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the

Headless Hunt?"

"I guess so," I said, "But isn't there anything that could finish the job?"

Nick sighed.

"Maybe, but I honestly don't know," he said, "It is difficult to find such things when one is trapped in one place."

"Hnn, I suspect a Conceptual Weapon might do the job," I said, "Maybe a Black Key or something similar. Perhaps a Magician could have something that could work. Hmm…"

Nick blinked at me.

"My word, you actually know something that could do it?" he asked.

"Maybe, but there's no easy way to get hold of them," I said with a shrug, "Sorry."

Nick sighed.

"I knew it was too good to be true," he muttered.

"Still, at least you can say that you're tougher than whats his face from the Headless Hunt," I said.

"Huh?"

"Well, he was probably executed by guillotine, right?"

Nick nodded.

"One quick chop and it was over. You on the other hand held on for 45 swings before you died. Who's the better man now?"

Nick stared at me for a moment, before a slow smile crossed his face.

"Your right," he said, "Thank you for that my boy, you've cheered me right up!"

"Think nothing of it," I said, "See ya."

"Wait a moment Mr Potter," said Nick.

"Hmm?"

"I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons for my 500th Death day," said Nick, "Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honor if you would attend. Mr. Longbottom and Miss Granger would be most welcome, too, of course — but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?"

"Actually, that sounds kinda interesting," I said, "A chance to learn about history from people who experienced it first hand...make sure theres some food there for the living and you got yourself a deal!"

"My dear boy!" said Nick happily, "Harry Potter, at my deathday party! Oh, thank you for this, it means a lot!"

He floated away, chuckling to himself. I sighed. Me and my bleeding heart. Well, at least tonight would be fun...right?

And done. Phew, finally! Christ, this fought me every step of the way, but its done now and this story is back in action! I hope...

So yeah, Harrys already starting to get annoyed with the Wizarding World. It won't take long for him to reach his boiling point.

And with that, I'm done. I feel like not much is happening in these chapters...eh, things'll pick up I'm sure. Anyway, don't forget to review!