Chapter 42: Eye On You:
On top of his role of the deputy caretaker of magical sanitation, Wade Wilson also took on the post as the Hogwarts Grief Counselor. Sure the pay was pretty much nonexistent, but the fact of the matter was, Wade was able to help people with their problems. Although, there were times where Wade thought the staff needed some kind of assistance more.
One could say that Wade would not be qualified for the job. But since when did not being qualified for a job stop any staff appointments from being done at Hogwarts?
A knock on the door brought Wade out of his musings and monologing at a knock at the door. Two gentlemen visited him, which Wade did not expect. Fred and George Weasley, the infamous Weasley twins, the last two people Wade thought would ever want any kind of counseling.
"What can I do for you gentlemen?" Wade asked.
"Wait, are there more people behind us?"
One of the twins whacked the other twin across the back of the head. "He's talking about us, you dipstick."
Wade permitted them to enter his office. Unlike Dumbledore, he did not have lemon drops. Instead, Deadpool had a bowl of skittles in his office. And they were not drugged either, because if there was anything Wade promoted, it was clean living.
"Skittles?" Deadpool asked.
The twins helped themselves to the Skittles on the desk.
'So are we sponsored now?' Wade asked.
'Yeah, like Skittles or anyone would sponsor this madness,' another voice commented in.
"So, is there any reason that you're here other than eating my Skittles?" Deadpool asked.
"Well, we are concerned about the Triwizard Tournament," one of the twins stated.
The other twin picked up where the first twin left off. "Yeah, we're almost seventeen. I mean it should count...we're going to be seventeen in April….April First of course."
"Oh, April Fool's Day?" Deadpool asked. "That explains a lot."
"I don't understand," George said.
"Well, you see April Fool's Day is a magical day where you pull pranks on everyone," Deadpool said "And then when you fool them, you shout 'April Fools!"
The twins blinked. At least three times.
"And how is that different from the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year?"
"Three Hundred and Sixty-Five days for leap year?"
"Other than the part where you shout the deal about it being April Fools."
Wade decided to help himself to a Skittle.
"No real reason," Wade said. "And I understand your conundrum. Between you and me and everyone who might be overhearing this conversation, I have it under good authority that Dumbledore is going to be having that Goblet guarded through a series of magically complex rituals will prevent anyone under the legal age of seventeen from entering the tournament. There will be no hijinx, no under age entries...no fourth champions...nothing like that...although I suppose there are ways that you could get around the protections which Dumbledore may or may not be doing."
"We'll give you a Galleon if you tell us what those protections are," one of the twins said.
"Come on boys, what kind of fool do you think me for?" Wade asked. "You're going to have to cough up at least three galleons and nine sickles before I part with any information that Dumbledore told me not to tell. And you're lucky I didn't pinky swear it."
The twins rummaged through their pockets and produced the needed gold. Sure, it was about all of the money they had between them, but it was for a good cause. And if they won that prize money, that thousand galleons, it would be better.
Deadpool checked the gold and it appeared to be on the level.
"It's more than I make in a year at Hogwarts," Deadpool said. "But, kids, remember this, it's not what you make, it's what you save, that matters. Just some good old financial advice from your Uncle Wade."
The twins filed that useful tidbit away for later.
"So, what do you got?"
"An age line ,my boys," Wade said.
The Weasley twins crowded around him and they were thinking.
"Perhaps an aging potion…."
"Oh, that won't do at all," Wade said. "You see, an aging potion will not fool the age line. Not the way that Dumbledore has it constructed. The age line works for mental and emotional age...not physical age...and the aging potion only ages you up physically."
The twins looked particularly crestfallen.
"There's no magical method to cross this age line," Wade said. "But, you have to think outside of the box to get into this tournament...if you want in."
To demonstrate, Wade made a paper plane and hurled it into the wastebasket. Then he created a makeshift slingshot with a rubber band and flung it carefully into the wastebasket as well.
"Do you get the message, my friends?" Wade asked.
The twins responded with wicked grins and reached forward to shake Wade's hand. They moved out and bowed before him, before leaving the office. Wade just smiled and counted his new gold.
"Well, I could make a side business out of this," Wade said. "Although, I wonder how long it will take before Dumbledore would shut me down."
Standards at Hogwarts had really fallen in recent years. The sooner Lord Voldemort could take over and rid the world of Albus Dumbledore and his utterly inept way of educating people, the better off they all would be.
Rebecca swept her way into the Library. She had gotten all her homework done. Really what took more time was dumbing down her answers to ensure no one could figure out. Although Moody, Moody kept popping out of weird corners and watching her. To the point where if she actually was a real girl and not the Dark Lord in disguise, it would have been honestly very creepy.
Almost out of the blue, Rebecca came across Luna Lovegood, who stood in the hallways, completely barefoot, and wandering around.
"What happened to your shoes?" Rebecca asked.
"Someone stole them," Luna said. "Along with my socks."
Rebecca frowned. Sure she tortured, killed, maimed, and did all sorts of nasty things, but stealing someone's socks was crossing a line that not even Lord Voldemort would cross. She, he, had principles damn it.
"And who are these people?"
"Oh, they're just confused," Luna said. "They don't know they're doing any wrong."
If Lord Voldemort had been capable of feeling any kind of empathy, he would feel sorry for Luna Lovegood. And yet, being the master manipulator he was, Voldemort senses an opportunity.
"You need to assert yourself more," Rebecca said. "You need to stand up for yourself."
"Oh, it's no real big deal," Luna said.
"You will be pushed around by people your entire life," Rebecca told her. "Do you want to be the type of person who would be walked all over like a doormat? Do you?"
Luna answered by shaking her head. She really did not, but she did not want to offend people. People already treated Luna because of her father's work.
"You need to stand up to them and make sure they can't mess with you again. Make them think twice of stealing your socks and your shoes ever again. Then they will understand that their actions have consequences."
"Ooh, that seems...maybe if I just explain how it hurts me, they'll give my things back," Luna said. "Because, it is mean."
"Bullies sense weakness," Rebecca said. "They will keep pushing. The best way to deal with a bully is not to turn the other cheek...not to go to an authority figure...it's to strike back. They will respect you."
Luna considered it for a few seconds and Rebecca turned her attention towards that janitor, who had been walking down the hallway, whistling a merry tone. It would be so easy to follow him into some kind of corridor and stab him straight in the back.
Or it would have been if Mad-Eye Moody had not came around the corner, watching her every move. Staring at her...with that magical eye, which could see through everything.
The sooner Voldemort got back his superior male body, the better.
Moody left, but the janitor had been out of sight and out of mind. Next time, next time Voldemort would get that Wade Wilson for foiling his plans to steal the Philosopher's Stone.
A group of older Ravenclaw girls made their way into the room.
"Well, look who it is?" one of the Ravenclaws asked. "Looney No-Shoes!"
All of the bitch bullies started to chant "Looney No-Shoes" at her. Rebecca felt disgusted at their disgusting lack of creativity. They were supposed to be Ravenclaws.
Yet another unfortunate reminder of how much standards had fallen since the Dark Lord had attended Hogwarts.
"That's not very nice," Luna said. "I'm not too happy about what you're doing."
"Oh, what is No-Shoes going to do about it?" one of the bitch bullies asked. "Is she going to cry to her Snoracks?"
"Or maybe she's going to cry to Mummy!" one of the girls taunted.
"You know my mother is dead," Luna said. "You're not being very nice."
Rebecca whispered something into Luna's ear and she raised her wand. The other girls stopped mocking her as Luna raised her wand towards the leader of the bitch bullies.
"Pizza Faceiem!"
The bitch bully screamed when several pimples popped onto her face. Disgusting, almost about ready to burst with puss. The girl screamed and her fellow bullies screamed. Luna held her wand, very confused, but very pleased.
"Make it stop!"
The bitch bully's screams grew even louder as the pimples popped and rained puss all over the nearest of her fellow bitch bully posse. Who had been infected by the puss and pimples started to grow on her face.
"PLEASE!" the girl who had been cursed yelled. "MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"
One of the girls ran off as fast as her legs could carry her. The woman returned and threw a bag, with all of Luna's shoes and socks on the ground. At least six of the eight girls had been infected by the magical puss and screaming their heads off. The pimples appeared to heal and had written nasty, depraved words on their face.
"There's your socks...and your shoes...and here's twenty Galleons!" the girl said frantically. "Please...make it stop!"
Rebecca just smiled and shook her head. The girls dropped to their knees, screaming in agony.
"What do you want from us?" she asked.
"You could say that you're sorry," Luna said.
"We're sorry!" the girls all screamed.
Rebecca snapped her fingers and the curse had been lifted. The girls face had been cleared. They all looked at Luna and turned around, scrambling down the hallway.
"I think I went too far making them all cry like that," Luna said.
"No, trust me, you didn't the right thing," Rebecca said. "They will know you're not a witch to be messed with. And they will respect you more...and you will have all kinds of new friends."
Luna looked off with a dreamy expression. She would have been content with just having her socks back, but friends, friends, that was what truly mattered in life.
Argus Filch walked around the corner and saw the puss on the ground, the disgusting mess left behind.
"Damn kids!" Filch swore at the top of his lungs.
Rebecca caught sight of the Assistant Deputy Caretaker making his way to the library. She crept behind him, ready to take him down. Why he would be in the library was a mystery?
Moody crept out from behind a bookshelf and peered at Rebecca. The thought of stabbing Wade Wilson in the back would have to wait. Rebecca hastily dropped herself down onto the table.
She came across a Gryffindor Fourth Year, a Mudblood, named Hermione Granger, who always seemed to be in the library when Rebecca showed up.
"The library again?" Rebecca asked.
"Well, O.W.L.s are coming up," Hermione said.
"In another year."
Lord Voldemort took the matter of studies seriously, but there was such a thing as too much of a good thing.
"Which means that I should have started studying in my third year," Hermione said. "There's been a lapse….a lapse that I'm not…...I say what is he doing?"
Wade walked out of the Restricted Section of the library. Hermione caught a glimpse of what he was doing, he returned a book to the cursed and dangerous section.
"Just putting it back where a book like that belongs."
Hermione's eyes traveled up and noticed the title of the book. It had been entitled "Fifty Shades of Grey." Hermione never heard of such a book in her life, but something told her that even she would be not compelled to read such a wicked text.
"Moody's everywhere these days," Rebecca said. "Doesn't it bother you that he has an eye that could look through everything?"
Hermione looked positively scandalized at the fact that anyone would dare say that a teacher would be involved in something wrong.
"He's a teacher, he wouldn't do anything like that?"
"Well, Dumbledore did have a man on his staff for an entire year without knowing that Lord Voldemort was on the back of his head."
The name made Hermione shudder and the shudders at hearing Lord Voldemort's name made Rebecca wet. Such fear excited her, in such a way which would not have been possible had been in a male body. The Horcruxes took care of that.
Or so it seemed. The girl whose body Lord Voldemort possessed seemed adamant she was his daughter.
Hermione could not have formulated a response to that. So she buried herself in the text, checking her Arithmancy calculations. Rebecca peered over her shoulder.
"So, what would you do if I told you there is a much easier way to solve those equations?"
Hermione's frown only deepened and one could see the agitation spreading through her body. She just shrugged.
"Never mind," Rebecca said.
Students who always wanted to do things by the book, they amused Rebecca. Very easy to kill because once you put them into a situation that they could think in their feet, it was hard.
Rebecca almost kicked herself for not thinking of this idea before. She blamed the female hormones making her a fair amount more stupid than the average male. The truth is, she had the idea, a brilliant idea, an idea so brilliant that it excited her.
Lord Voldemort, Rebecca Black, made her way to the office of the Hogwarts Grief Counselor, the Deputy Caretaker of Magical Sanitation, where they would be all alone, under a locked door.
"Come in!"
Rebecca swept into the hallway, making sure to keep the vial of poison, slow acting, in her sleeve. Ready to slip it in at the most opportune time and poison this bastard, who had foiled her plans.
"Ms. Black," Deadpool said. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, I'm concerned about Mad-Eye Moody," Rebecca said. "He's following me around everywhere...with that eye of his. I'm supposed to be underaged...isn't there laws against that sort of thing?"
Deadpool chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "Moody just wants to have every bit of information he can on a person. Up to and including the type of underwear they're wearing."
Wade leaned forward and added, almost as an afterthought.
"Joke's on him, because I'm going commando."
Lord Voldemort filed that little bit of nasty detail underneath the realm of information that she did not need to know. She noticed Wade take his eyes off the tea for a second. Casually, she slipped the poison into the sugar, and Wade slipped the poison into his tea. Rebecca watched, it would only be a matter of time before he ingested it.
And with seventy-two hours, he would be stricken by severe illness and then seventy-two hours after that, death. Any attempts to cure it through normal means would just speed up the poison.
"Dumbledore trusts him."
"Mr. Wilson, Dumbledore couldn't tell that Lord Voldemort was sticking out of the back of a teacher's head for a year," Rebecca said.
A round of laughter followed and Rebecca raised her eyebrow at him.
"I just remembered I hit Voldemort in the back of the head several times during that year. Or technically his face, which was the back of Quirrel's head...good times."
'Oh, these callbacks are great.'
Rebecca tapped her finger on the edge of the desk. She recalled it. Recalled it, and would relish in Wade Wilson's slow and agonizing demise just that much more.
"Aren't you going to drink your tea, sir?" Rebecca asked.
The door burst open without knocking. Mad-Eye Moody stared down Rebecca before he turned his magical eye completely onn Wade.
"Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you for a staff meeting about the security measures for the arrival of Beuxbatons and Durmstrang," Moody said, spitting out the last word with bile. "You should return to your dormitory...girl."
Rebecca rose up to her feet and walked off. Well at least Wade would drink his tea when he got back. And he would be dead in about six days.
Wade left the office next.
Moody tutted angrily and he waved his hand at the cup, vanishing the tea and the sugar. So sloppy to leave drinks and food unintended. Just an easy way to get poisoned.
If the bloke wanted tea, then he would end up fixing a fresh cup. Moody would not have anyone get poisoned under his watch. No sir. And that Black girl was still pretty shifty, hiding something. And Moody would get the bottom of it.
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