Publius Report

50 Books Challenge | April

2010-05-02T11:35:02Z

24. War and Peace
Author: Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Fiction//Classic-Historical
Pages: 1107
Rating: 5/5

I'll be honest: I went into this book cynically. "Come on, Greatest Novel of All Time," I thought to myself. "Show me what you've got." To showcase my arrogance, the book delivered. There is no way I can possibly do justice to War and Peace in one paragraph; I couldn't properly give it praise in an entire book, if required. Put simply: I love this book. This is one of those works that truly change one's perceptions of reality. Calling it historical fiction does not full describe it. This is a book about life. We follow the lives of five Russian families throughout the Napoleonic Wars - though the book eventually focuses primarily on Andrey Bolkonsky, Pierre Bezuhov, and Natasha Rostov - and we experience everything they do, from what appear to be meaningless events of every day to the battlefields of the war. It is a work about learning that there is nothing to seek in life, no greater answers to riddles, because everything one seeks is nothing. Andrey and Pierre both eventually learn this in different ways, though only Andrey retains this wisdom for the single reason that it can only be retained in his circumstance (I won't spoil this for you); the only people who regularly live this wisdom, without having to search for it, are Andrey's sister Marya and Natasha's brother Nikolay. This is only beginning to touch the scope of the work than can only be appreciated by reading it. This is the best book I've ever read, and probably could ever hope to read.

My only real criticism lies within my book's translation by Constance Garnett. She's a fine translator, but she translated too much of the French. I understand translating the Russian into English (otherwise I wouldn't be able to read it), but by translating the French - which is a major part of the characters who speak it - something major is lost. I hear more recent translations retain the French with accompanying footnotes, so I'll look into those the next time I read this.

25. Hidden in Plain View: Narrative and Creative Potentials in 'War and Peace'
Author: Gary Saul Morson
Genre: Nonfiction//Literary Criticism
Pages: 271
Rating: 4/5

I obtained this after reading Tolstoy's classic to give me a better understanding of what I've read; surprisingly, there are very few books written about War and Peace, but this one was applauded in the further-reading section of my copy of the book. Morson examines some of the major themes of the book: the unexpected influence of real life, adaptation as the key to survival, the rejection of the "great man" theory of history, and many more. He also examines the history of War and Peace, from its initial criticisms to those today. He explains Tolstoy's use of absolute language, his rejection of the contemporary novel, and his strive to make War and Peace into something undefinable. This book is useful to someone who has immediately read War and Peace, to help piece together some questions the reader may have after completing the classic. However, I do believe Morson brings up Anna Karenina and Dostoevsky too much; comparisons are fine and to be expected, but sometimes one must wonder if he remembers what book he is reviewing. But that's a minor fault of an otherwise informative piece.

cesaretech @ 2010-04-15T20:52:00

2010-04-16T00:52:20Z

After spending two soul-searching days observing everything around me, coming the closest I've ever been to ending my stay in this world, I've reached the conclusion that I have it within me to be happy.

50 Books Challenge | March

2010-04-01T13:43:03Z

19. Moral Minority: Our Skeptical Founding Fathers
Author: Brooke Allen
Genre: Nonfiction//History
Pages: 180
Rating: 2/5

I was disappointed in this, to be honest. I picked this up hoping for balanced research into how the Founders - Deists and Christians - viewed the role of religion in the structuring of the New Republic. Instead, I got a book that heavily leaned on the secular side of the debate. This is most likely because Allen shaped her chapters around each of the major six Founders, and four of them (Franklin, Adams, Madison, Jefferson) were confirmed Deists or Unitarians, while only one testified as a Christian (Hamilton), and one was smart enough rarely to bring it up (Washington). Therefore, I should blame the structure of the book more than the material. There's no doubt the majority of Founders preferred disestablishment, and wanted a wall between church and state. Allen uses plenty of solid evidence to support this. Her best work is definitely on the four secular Founders, and it's clear she's most comfortable there. Her shortcomings are that she stretches the evidence to support her conclusions, whether the evidence fits it or not; she claims Washington was probably a Deist, despite that the sources she provides leans into suggesting he was a low-key Christian. And sometimes she's just plain wrong: Hamilton was far from the first person in America to use religion as a political tool. Overall, it makes the reader feel empty. This book would have served well branching off into some of the lesser-known Founders, because we were conspicuously missing some key players for a book centered on the role of religion in the Founding -- where were Thomas Paine and Patrick Henry?

20. Republican Empire: Alexander Hamilton on War and Free Government
Author: Karl-Friedrich Walling
Genre: Nonfiction//History
Pages: 289
Rating: 5/5

The biggest problem with a republic is that the classic states of Greece and Rome proved it was very difficult to wage war effectively without destroying liberty at the same time. How then has the United States survived over two hundred years, with multiple wars at home and abroad, without destroying all of the freedoms her people enjoy? Walling finds that Hamilton, more than any of the other Founders, thought about this problem. His knowledge on war and dedication to military leadership, backed by his unbelievable indiscretion, led his contemporaries (especially John Adams) to see him as a Bonaparte. Instead, Walling argues that Hamilton is a liberal republican, one who sought consent and the power of law to help America endure the wars she would have no choice but to face without the cost of liberty. This required a strong government, because a weak one would crumble the government, finances, and military capabilities -- just as it had during the American Revolution; worse, a weak government would, and did, lead to civil war. A powerful judiciary would be a check upon the energetic executive and legislative laws passed during wartime, keeping a buffer between militaristic oppression and personal liberty. The party not in power would be at constant vigilance against the other, and their desire to be elected would alert the people to any potential abuses of authority; while people are usually willing to sacrifice some liberty for safety, this rarely lasts in a country ultimately return to preferring their freedoms. Thus with the Federalists and Republicans began the party bickering, the tug of war between responsibility and vigilance that is still played to this day. Walling's work is well documented and well-researched, an irreplaceable book for someone studying the Founding.

21. The Jefferson Bible: The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth
Author: Thomas Jefferson
Genre: Nonfiction//Religion
Pages: 061
Rating: 4/5

Ever wish you could read the New Testament without the deity? Thomas Jefferson became in/famous for his editing of the Holy Scriptures when he removed all forms of the supernatural from Jesus' life, but this is a very valuable book for non-Christians looking for a way to get Jesus' teachings without having to read him as an embodied son of God; whether you agree or absolutely hate their decision, you'll understand why Texas decided to remove Jefferson from the history books after reading this. Jefferson takes the first four Gospels of the New Testament (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), and molds them together into mostly the parables that Jesus taught to his disciples and willing listeners. You have the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, lessons on humility and charity, etc. It has the last supper, Judas' betrayal, and the book ends immediately after Jesus is crucified. It's short, simple, but a worthwhile book to have on your shelf, even if you're not particularly religious.

22. The Pacificus-Helvidius Debates of 1793-1794: Toward the Completion of the American Founding
Authors: Alexander Hamilton and James Madison
Genre: Nonfiction//History
Pages: 115
Rating: 5/5

Like the Lincoln-Douglass debates, the Pacificus-Helvidius discussions are an important part of American history, especially regarding Constitutional law. Two of the three-man Publius of Federalist fame turn on themselves as Pacificus-Hamilton and Helvidius-Madison argue the roles of the executive and legislature in the role of foreign policies. The Constitution states the Congress has the sole power to declare war; the President can make treaties, with the approval of the Senate, and receive ambassadors. The question was, did President Washington's Neutrality Proclamation go against the power delegated to him in the Constitution? Did it conflict with the treaty between the United States and France? Madison thought so. He argues that since the legislature had the power to declare war, there was no need for the executive to give an declaration of neutrality -- America should be assumed neutral until Congress says otherwise. Hamilton thought not. While the Republicans wanted America to side with France in the wars in Europe, Hamilton stressed that their treaty had agreed to help France during a defensive war, not an offensive one; the revolutionairies in France had more or less voided their contract when they killed King Louis XVI, with whom the United States had signed the treaty. It was the president's duty to preserve peace before Congress declared war, so the Neutrality Proclamation was constitutional. Both men have convincing arguments, and their discussions are still relevant today in regards to foreign policy. A great read.

23. Hamilton's Blessing: The Extraordinary Life and Times of Our National Debt
Author: John Steele Gordon
Genre: Nonfiction//History
Pages: 200
Rating: 3/5

This book was automatically docked a star before I read it because of a glaring error: there are no footnotes. Being an historian, Gordon should have known better than to write a history book without footnotes; a bibilography alone does not cut it. In regards to the book, everyone knows we've been in economic hardtimes for a long while; we're trillions in debt. How did we get to this point? Gordon does a good job traciing our national debt, as well as budget deficit, from the Founding into just last year. It used to be the policy of the government to pay off the debt during times of peace; the debt itself could prove a power instrument during times of war, allowing us to fund fighting without oppressing the citizens with heavy taxes. But in modern times, no politician wants to pay off the debt; it's not good for elections to raise the taxes necessary to get it back to a managable level. Both Republicans and Democrats alike are completely incompetent regarding our debt, and Steele does not see us getting it back under control until we demand the government have accountants to track their spending, and a complete revamp of our taxing system. Is this realistic? Difficult to say. People want so many handouts from the government, no politician sees it safe to dare remove programs that eat funding like a leech (Social Security, Medicare, etc.). Until the people are dedicated to fixing the debt, the politicians will never be. The national debt can work for us, but if we abuse it, it will be years before we recover. Pick up this book if you're curious about how we got to this point, because while Gordon does not claim to treat it like an economic manual (although there are some fantastic charts in the back), he provides a clear path to see how our spending got out of control.

50 Books Challenge | February

2010-03-01T03:22:12Z

This was a non-productive month for reading, for various reasons.

16. Law: A Very Short Introduction
Author: Raymond Wacks
Genre: Nonfiction//Law
Pages: 153
Rating: 4/5

Let's be honest, it's not easy summarizing law under two-hundred pages. Wacks had his work ahead of him. That aside, this really was a very informative book, and did exactly what it was aimed to do: provide a beginner's introduction to law, with special focus on common and civil. Wacks goes through the origins and histories of the different legal systems throughout the world, although focusing predominantly on Western law. Within the West, the U.S. and its current troubles (especially regarding technology) are brought up frequently; while we're a common law country (with the exception of Louisiana), we have some peculiar quirks that do not match the other countries with common law - how our lawyers dress, how the hierarchy of the courts, and the very profession of law itself. However, this book falls into the inevitable trap: it's too short. What do you expect from "A Very Short Introduction," yes, but I felt Wacks could have concentrated even more on the differences between common law and civil law, but didn't. Nevertheless, it does inspire me to find other books to discover the answers for myself. Treat this like a Wikipedia book, but with more respect.

17. The Trial and Death of Socrates
Author: Plato
Genre: Nonfiction//Classic-Philosophy
Pages: 106
Rating: 5/5

I really do love Plato, and if people don't read anything else of his, you must take a look at Republic and the Trial and Death of Socrates. In this work, composed of four dialogues, Plato describes the persecution, trial, judgment, and execution of Socrates, who was tried and convicted of "corrupting the youth" and denying the existence of the gods. The message Socrates leaves is very strong. He has the opportunity to be given an exile instead of death so long as he stops teaching; but, as Socrates said so eloquently, "the unexamined life is not worth living." He has the chance to escape the prison and run; but he knows that since he enjoyed the benefits Athens gave him, he must also agree to the punishments she delivers. Socrates truly was a man of honor. He knew that for the law to work, its citizens had to be willing to agree to its consequences as well as its rewards. He didn't fear death, because it was only there that his soul would not be weighed down by the wants and needs of the body; and if there were no afterlife, he knew he wouldn't be aware of it, so there was still no reason to worry. Even though his enemies win the battle with his death, Socrates won the war by keeping his intellectual superiority and moral integrity. I cannot suggest this read enough.

18. Practical Proceedings in the Supreme Court of the State of New York: Hamilton's Practice Manual
Author: Alexander Hamilton
Genre: Nonfiction//Law
Pages: 137
Rating: 5/5

After the Revolutionary War, veterans who wanted to become lawyers in New York were given a way out of the three-year apprenticeship if they could study and pass the bar within a certain amount of time. Alexander Hamilton qualified in six months. With American independence won, lawyers were having a difficult time transitioning from colonial to state law. Hamilton noticed there were no procedures for him to study, so decided to write one himself. Practical Proceedings, like all primary sources, is a window into the past, and in this case early New York state law. It covers process, pleas, habeas corpus, marriage, fees, and a wide range of other legal problems that you'd expect to still research to this day. Hamilton got a few facts wrong, and much of his proceedings are now outdated, but his book was relied upon by many law students during his time as the first, truly American study book for law. However, given its complexity - being both a law book and being written in the eighteenth century - I'd recommend this only for lawyers and historians. This is a book best read alongside a secondary resource tracking the transition from British law to American law.

50 Books Challenge | January

2010-01-30T03:58:13Z

11. Moll Flanders: The Fortunes & Misfortunes of Moll Flanders
Author: Daniel DeFoe
Genre: Fiction//Historical
Pages: 305
Rating: 3/5

Daniel DeFoe, best known for Robinson Crusoe, tells the story from the perspective of a woman who lives her life in late seventeenth-century England. Born in Newgate Prison, her life started at rock-bottom. After her childhood and early-adulthood intimate relationship with a well-born family, Moll Flanders (her real name is never revealed) lives her life off and on as a whore and a thief to try and escape poverty. In the course of her life, she has multiple husbands - including her own brother. Moll begins to believe love is only worth monetary value. She continues this sinful life until one event sends her tumbling back down to rock-bottom, where she must either learn righteousness or die. My main problem with this book is that Moll Flanders is an unlikeable character. I sympathize that women in her time did not have many options to live wealthy lives; it's not even her whoring that bothers me. She cares for no one but herself. When she becomes a thief, she does not express any particular grief for the victims - including several young children - or the other thieves that are hanged. And when she's caught, she does not believe she deserves similar fate. Yet, I don't feel sorry for her. It's also too fast-paced; one minute she gets married, and a hundred pages later she's married four more times, has numerous forgotten children (seriously, she only spontaneously cares about one), and finds her mother.

I won't say it's not worth reading, but it's definitely not the best book to come from the eighteenth-century. Also, reader be warned that this book is without chapters.

12. Building a Bridge to the Eighteenth Century
Author: Neil Postman
Genre: Nonfiction//Social Issues
Pages: 171
Rating: 3/5

Anyone who's read Postman knows he's an unapologetic critic of technology, the best and worst accomplishment that was ever obtained by humans. I loved reading his book Technopoly in school, and so tracked this one down. It's a quick, somewhat enjoyable but ultimately thin message about how we need to have another Age of Enlightenment, and how our dependency of technology is making this impossible. We must return meaning to our education, culture, language, narrative, and childhood, or we will be but slaves as technology expands for the sake of expanding. He presents various eighteenth-century authors to support his thesis, with a particular reliance on either Thomas Paine or Jean-Jacques Rousseau. He never actually dives deeply into eighteenth-century thought, and most of what he finds can be found in a quote book. Simply put, 171 pages was not enough to get his point across, which is a shame because he makes many valid arguments. We really cannot be a people of moral reasoning if we let technology make decisions for us.

13. The Inferno
Author: Dante Alighieri
Genre: Fiction//Classic-Religious
Pages: 176
Rating: 4/5

Ah, one of the staple of many people's school days. It has been years since I've read the first third of The Divine Comedy, and I'd forgotten how entertaining it actually is. This classic tells the story of Dante the pilgrim's journey through hell, with the aid of his favorite poet Virgil. What we know about hell actually came mostly from Dante: the different levels, ironic punishments for specific crimes, etc. Along the spiritual journey, he must learn to stop feeling pity for the souls of people who deserve what came to them. The story is not what you'd expect it to be. While the reader does experience scenes of unbelievable torture, they are seen through the punishments of Dante's personal enemies. In a prime example of self-insert fanfiction, Dante writes a Take That blog to his political adversaries, some dead and some still living. A book like this couldn't be written and taken seriously in today's time. But with centuries past, it's actually quite a comical experience reading the rages of an Italian man listing off people he wished eternal damnation on. My Barnes & Noble edition provided plenty of footnotes to help the reader gain the back stories of all these unfortunate men to appreciate why Dante was as angry - and a bit prideful - as he was. A must-read.

14. The Effective Republic: Administration and Constitution in the Thought of Alexander Hamilton
Author: Harvey Flaumenhaft
Genre: Nonfiction//Political-Science
Pages: 267
Rating: 5/5

If you've ever been curious about Alexander Hamilton's opinion on the Constitution and effective government, and cannot get access to his papers, this is the book to read. Flaumenhaft meticulously researches Hamilton's papers (from The Federalist to his Examination essays) to determine how Hamilton wanted to see the American republic ran. It begins on first principles (the natural rights of mankind), the structure of the current government, and the separation of powers; it then goes into how the branches must have vigor to be efficient, especially in the executive department; Hamilton then concludes by emphasizing the importance of an independent Supreme Court to protect the governments from one another, and the governments from ignoring the supreme word of the Constitution. Flaumenhaft successfully argues against the Jeffersonian notion that Hamilton was a monarchist; monarchy is defined by having all power concentrated in a single individual, while Hamilton in actuality wanted an energetic president who could effectively enforce laws without the inherent lagging that plagues the legislature. Hamilton, above all else, wanted to merge the benefits of monarchy with the advantages of republicanism; at the end of his life, he still stood behind a government he wasn't sure would withstand the test of time - representative democracy (not to be confused with pure democracy, which Hamilton called a "poison"). The real genius of Flaumenhaft is that he uses Hamilton's words far more than his own; unless you're familiar with the latter, you never know when it's Hamilton or the narrator speaking, outside of quotations. All in all, excellent book.

15. Republic
Author: Plato
Genre: Nonfiction//Classic-Philosophy
Pages: 349
Rating: 5/5

This is pretty much where Western thought began. What is justice? Are the unjust better rewarded than the just? These are the questions that takes Plato - through the mouth of Socrates - almost four-hundred pages to answer. In a game of friendly debate, the characters engage in an argument to build a Utopian society; this idea hasn't aged well, since no humane citizen nowadays would advocate the use of infanticide. Once that perfect republic is made, Socrates and his friends slowly tear it apart into a timocracy (ruled by love of honor), oligarchy (ruled by love of money), democracy (ruled by the everyman), and finally tyranny. This is clearly paralleled with an individual's power to become just, defined as the ability to understand absolute truth. All men, according to the author, live in a figurative cave, where they believe what they see to be the truth, even though they're shadow puppets. Of course, only a philosopher can escape the cave and discover the absolute truth and become closer to God. Therefore, only philosophers should be kings. You as the reader may not agree with Plato's ideas or want to live in his republic, but this work's merits rest in it's ability to clearly invoke powering images in the form of a debate. Apart from perhaps some metaphysical discussion (which I will fully admit I'm not familiar with), most of what Plato says should be easily understood by the average reader.

50 Books Challenge || Ratings

2010-01-20T13:31:09Z

5 Stars
Tom Jones
The Effective Republic
Republic
The Trial and Death of Socrates
Practical Proceedings
Republican Empire
The Pacificus-Helvidius Debates of 1793-1794
War and Peace

4 Stars
The Art of Worldly Wisdom
A Tale of Two Cities
Alexander Hamilton and the Idea of Republican Government
The Red and the Black
One Nation Under Debt
The Last Day of a Condemned Man
A Christmas Carol
The Inferno
Law: A Very Short Introduction
The Jefferson Bible
Hidden in Plain View
The Sorrows of Young Werther

3 Stars
Liberty's Blueprint
What Would the Founders Do?
Moll Flanders
Building a Bridge to the Eighteenth Century
Hamilton's Blessing
The Scarlet Pimpernel

2 Stars
Moral Minority

1 Star

50 Books Challenge | December

2010-01-20T12:57:45Z

5. The Red and the Black
Author: Stendhal
Genre: Fiction//Classic-Historical
Pages: 523
Rating: 4/5

This book was translated by Horace B. Samuel, and I'm uncertain how many liberties he took with modernizing the speech and idioms. Some sentences seemed out-of-place for 19th century France. That complaint aside, it's a shame this book is not as widely popular in America as it should be. The reader is brought into a corrupt country where poor protagonist Julien Sorel has limited opportunities for advancement by the corrupt aristocracy and church; he is fueled by ambition, and desperately wants to live up to his idol Napoleon, but he simply cannot in his surroundings. He learns the game of the nobility and church, and attempts to beat them at it. He becomes a master of hypocrisy in the process. Unfortunately, no matter how much he tries against it, he is a slave to his passions. He engages in an unhealthy relationship with Madame de Rênal and later with the Marquis de la Mole's daughter, Mathilde. His inability to subdue his passions to his ambitions proves his downfall.

Julien Sorel is an interesting protagonist because he is not a good human being. Complex and sympathetic, but he is not the most moral of characters. Yet, I could not help by feel for him when he reaches so close to his goals, only to have them all pushed from underneath him because of his own failings. But each character in this book - for Julien is far from the most morally apprehensive - seems real, and the story remains dynamic and emotional from beginning to end.

6. What Would the Founders Do? Our Questions, Their Answers
Author: Richard Brookhiser
Genre: Nonfiction//History
Pages: 224
Rating: 3/5

Having read both Founding Father and Alexander Hamilton, American, I can say I'm a fan of Brookhiser's droll sense of humor. Also, this book may have the best nonfiction cover of any book ever written. This book is amusing for any person with even a little interest in history, and I say it's marketed towards those without much information in the subject of the new republic. I give it a lower rating, because people with general knowledge of the Founders will probably not find much use out of it, aside from a few chuckles. Brookhiser tries to impose modern concerns and figure how maybe America's Founders would respond. Would they have supported the War on Drugs? (Washington grew hemp, but not for the purpose most people think of). Would they have supported gun control? (Dueling pistols were banned from use, though that didn't stop them). And so on. This book, as with all books, brings Brookhiser's bias into the picture, and with each answer he focuses mainly on one Founder's opinion rather than presenting two sides to the argument. I'd recommend it to people who are not history majors and want a fun book on the subject of our Founding to pass through a couple of nights. Since our Founders were not one person, you may be surprised what each man stood for.

7. One Nation Under Debt: Hamilton, Jefferson, and the History of What We Owe
Author: Robert E. Wright
Genre: Nonfiction//Business
Pages: 284
Rating: 4/5

This would be better said to be belong in the economic section. Wright traces our national debt back before the Revolution. Few in America had any concept of economics; even the ones that did could scarce help the situation, for poor Robert Morris ended up in debtors' prison for doing his part in helping fund the war. We had high inflation, high interest rates, low property values, and our credit abroad was laughed at. Fortunately, Treasury Secretary understood macroeconomics. Through his Bank of the United States, a sinking fund was established for the national debt. New bonds, backed by the federal government instead of individual states, were respected at home and abroad; northerners and southerners, men and women alike purchased them. Assumption (collecting of the federal and states' debts) allowed the country to pay off its obligations under a collected rate and kept the separate governments from competing with each other for revenue. The central bank was destroyed on the eve before the War of 1812; President Madison quickly began understanding its importance, and brought it back only for it to be destroyed again under President Jackson, plunging America into the greatest depression it would face until 1929.

We today have the Federal Reserve as a central bank, but are still paying a national debt that can be traced back the Civil War. Because of populist politics, no politicians wants to make necessary moves to get it under control; doing so would surely cost them votes. Wright presents a dim view for America is we don't demand our politicians to begin taking fiscal responsibility again, and allow the Fed to regulate the monetary conditions of this country correctly. We were only able to fully pay off our debt once (after 1812). Secretaries Hamilton and Gallatin knew we didn't have to have it paid off to function (nowadays, it would actually be a bad move), but they knew we couldn't spend more than we took in. Americans either must be willing to pay taxes for their luxuries or demand the expenditures to drop. You cannot have your cake and eat it, too.

8. The Last Day of a Condemned Man
Author: Victor Hugo
Genre: Fiction//Historical
Pages: 82
Rating: 4/5

One of Hugo's lesser-known pieces, this book features an unnamed protagonist from trial to punishment. It was written with a clear agenda in mind, and Hugo does not hide his anti-capital punishment sentiments. But as a pro-death penalty reader, I was moved by the horrors undertaken by the man. Who could not be effected by his dissent into psychological madness, how he finally releases hope only to have it thrown in his face once more, like a carrot on a string? By far, the most heart-wrenching moment comes from reading how he laments his daughter will be moved by his death, only to find upon a visit that she no longer recognizes him. His plights are still fresh and understandable today. While not Hugo's best work, it's a shame it does not have the popularity of his doorstoppers. Dostoevsky called it a masterpiece. I agree.

9. The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling
Author: Henry Fielding
Genre: Fiction//Classic-Comedy
Pages: 764
Rating: 5/5

There's no better way to say it - I loved this book. I loved everything about it. Fielding embarks us on a journey with Tom Jones, a bastard foundling kicked out of his adopted father Squire Allworthy's estate after his cousin Blifil spreads lies about his conduct. Poor Jones is a lovable character because he recognizes that despite he has plenty of virtues, he also has vices: he has a weakness for wine and women. The latter gets him into trouble with his love Sophia Western, who tries escaping a marriage her aunt and father desire between her and Blifil. Both youths walk the countryside on separate adventures to London; Sophia to flee from her persistent father, and Jones to win back the heart of his love. Along the way, Jones picks up the comically-pathetic Partridge, a man Allworthy considers to be his father. After saving a Mrs. Waters from certain doom, sleeping with her, Jones later discovers he may have bedded with his own mother. Sophia's troubles are no less horrific, as she not only has to avoid a marriage from Blifil, but also a lord who lusts after her beauty.

Fielding's piece is a great satire on 18th century English society, from its hypocrisy to its opportunism. He knows how to keep a reader laughing from page to page with sexual innuendos, double entendres, and dry British humor. To be sure, this is a doorstopper, but it reads remarkably modern. It's executed masterfully, and I cannot recommend it enough to someone who understands 18th century humor and enjoys the classics.

10. A Christmas Carol
Author: Charles Dickens
Genre: Fiction//Classic-Seasonal
Pages: 79
Rating: 4/5

What can I possibly add to this that has not been said before?I finished reading this today on Christmas Eve. It has the perfect atmosphere for the holidays. Every so often it does a person good to be reminded how we need to care for the general welfare and remember what's ultimately important in the business of life. Hopefully each person doesn't need a visit from the Spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come to make themselves a better human not only this time of year, but every day.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone.

50 Books Challenge | November

2009-12-02T00:25:32Z

50 Books Challenge : November

1. Liberty's Blueprint: How Madison and Hamilton Wrote the Federalist Papers, Defined the Constitution, and Made Democracy Safe for the World
Author: Michael I. Meyerson
Genre: Nonfiction//Political Science
Pages: 223
Rating: 3/5

This book is separated into two parts. The first provides the time line from the failure of the Articles of Confederation to Madison and Hamilton's campaigning for the Constitution in Virginia and New York. Meyerson uses the second part to discuss the relevance of the Federalist in today's political world. It remains the most quoted resource of the Supreme Court, and has gained increasing popularity among so-called Originalists who desperately look for the Founders' intents. Should the Federalist be cited? Should it be discarded completely? Meyerson offers a more moderate approach to reading the Federalist Papers, where one can use the Founders' words to keep a judge's personal values from undermining the Constitution, but also allow for modern values to progress. Use research and your personal judgment. Not even Madison and Hamilton, two of the three-man Publius, could agree what the Constitution said.

That being said, I'd recommend this for students who wish to begin studying Constitutional history. It presents both the federalist and anti-federalist arguments, and points out Madison and Hamilton's shortcomings, the former in defending slavery and the latter in refuting a Bill of Rights. It lacks true depth and insight into the Federalist, and is not a dense analyzing of the work. Treat the book as a window into Publius' pamphlets, and you'll enjoy it.

2. The Art of Worldly Wisdom
Author: Baltasar Gracián
Genre: Nonfiction//Philosophy
Pages: 101
Rating: 4/5

Despite being written in the seventeenth-century, this is a timeless piece of wisdom. If you're a cynic, this is a book for you. Gracián presents the world three-hundred proverbs on his understanding of human nature. While he gives advice on how to get revenge on one's enemies, he also keeps a code of honor about it, lionizing virtue. He remains a realist. Humans are greedy, self-centered, ignorant, and irrational. Only a select few can reach a level of morality that makes them better leaders and superb human beings. Unlike Machiavelli, Gracián tried to make people better, despite their vast imperfections. Show no one your weakness, become self-reliant, keep only a few but trustworthy friends, never be seen as a fool, etc. Everyone should have this book on their shelves. It should be read, and read often. My only criticism is that Gracián is sometimes repetitive and even contradictory.

3. A Tale of Two Cities
Author: Charles Dickens
Genre: Fiction//Classic-Historical
Pages: 365
Rating: 4/5

This was the first fiction book I picked up in many months, and I'm glad I chose this before others. I have not had the pleasure of reading all of Dickens' stories, but of what I have read, this remains my favorite. I doubt I can give it any better praise than people before me, and I will not try. The book is divided into three parts as we are able to witness the rise of the French Revolution. Both Paris and London are cities of political unrest and patriotic paranoia. Best of all, Dickens creates an ambiguous background that allows the reader to see the goods and evils of both the aristocracy and the peasants. The Marquis is a detestable character, but so is Citizeness Defarge. We see the dangers of what can come of mob mentality, when a virtuous cause is tainted by lust for violence and heads. Charles Darnay falls victim to the uncontrollable hate the peasants feel towards the aristocrats, despite his virtuous deeds. Citizeness Defarge eventually becomes so out of control, she takes aim at his innocent wife and daughter. But it is Sydney Carton -- a lazy drunk who wastes his talents -- and his selfless sacrifice for the love he feels for Lucie Manette that remains with us. He is one of literature's most memorable tragic heroes, and is the story's most well-defined character. My only real criticism is that Dickens sometimes pushes the realism in just how many coincidences can happen -- Carton just happened to show up in Paris when Ms. Ross found her brother, and her brother just happened to be the only one capable of getting him in and out of Darnay's cell? But that hardly keeps this from being an enjoyable read, a classic.

4. Alexander Hamilton and the Idea of Republican Government
Author: Gerald Stourzh
Genre: Nonfiction//Political Science
Pages: 205
Rating: 4/5

This book is out of print and difficult to track down. I wish I had time to read it a second time before I return it to the library. This is, without doubt, the most extensive look into the reasons behind Hamilton's political beliefs. Being twenty-one, and not as yet well trained into the works of Cicero and Montesquieu as I need to be in order to fully appreciate the work Stourzh put into his research; understanding the ancient and enlightened philosophers can help one better appreciate the Founders' thoughts period. This is not a biography. It is also not a battle for who was right between Hamilton and Jefferson. Stourzh explains that when it came to being a statesman, Hamilton was a man of his time. He was driven by fame to found a republic, but maintained an old world style of governing that centered upon the virtue of honor; only elite, educated, and honorable men had a place in the highest offices. Moreover, Stourzh explains why Hamilton wanted an elected president and senate elected on good behavior, among others of his more controversial beliefs. He proves that Hamilton was as republican as the other Founders, and not a closeted monarchist. I would not recommend this book until one has read a biography on the man first. Stourzh's research is profound, but some of it is now dated; modern historians consider Hamilton's meetings with Beckwith no more treasonous than Jefferson's support of Michaux. But Stourzh is a professional, and his work has largely been under appreciated among people of this field.

Post No. [001] : Brand New Day

2009-07-26T23:03:38Z

I've all but completely purged my journal of old entries. I needed a change, and I could think of nothing better than a fresh start. I won't update with anything personal unless I feel I must, as I am not comfortable sharing my private life with persons whom I ultimately do not know. I've kept the fanfiction up, for the time being, but am weighing my options with that. I won't make any moves with a friends' cut, as I don't believe in them unless the other person has removed me first; so that is up to you. I am also considering a name change.

Fanfiction: Thirteen Life Experiences Between Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones, and One That...

2008-10-06T05:27:05Z

Title: Thirteen Life Experiences Between Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones, and One That Came Too Late
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones
Prompt: Life
Word Count: 939
Rating: PG
Summary: Thirteen life experiences between Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones, and one that came too late.
Author’s Notes: A second list fanfic.

Zacharias first met Susan during a trip to the Ministry of Magic. While his father was completing affairs with the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Zacharias tried to investigate the Improper Use of Magic office. As he tried to listen through one of the doors, a bowtruckle clamped down on one of his ears. The girl jumped in to save her pet before he could stomp down and kill it. In a tantrum, Susan yelled at him for being so cruel. Zacharias pulled on her pigtails, and made her leave the room crying.

After starting Hogwarts, Zacharias used Susan as a means of meeting other students, forcing himself into her friendships. He thought Hannah was overly paranoid, and Ernie came across as a pompous swot, but he interacted with them simply because Susan did. However, once he joined the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team, he all but abandoned them in favour of Cedric, Tamsin, and Cads. In the years of homework, sports’ victories, and twice rising against the school administration, Susan was the only one Zacharias set time aside for.

Chancing it, Zacharias once questioned whether what he felt for Susan was only friendship, or the strings of something stronger. She laughed at his musings, and in a fit of embarrassment, Zacharias Smith swore to never look at Susan as anything more than what she was. It took him his entire time at Hogwarts to figure out exactly what she qualified as.

He had a hard time admitting the guilt he felt for leaving his friends behind in the Final Battle. Susan was the first writing to him, assuring him no one harboured hard feelings for his actions. As he captained the Quidditch team and studied his N.E.W.T.s, Zacharias Smith only wrote back to Susan six times the entire year. Never once did he admit being wrong in choosing not to fight, and Susan never once accused him of disloyalty. He never learned if she really didn’t blame him for the death of Eleanor Branstone. He was too proud and cowardly to ask.

After moving on from Hogwarts, Zacharias was disappointed to learn Susan stopped her studies as a Healer in support of learning French for inter-wizard relations. Susan admitted her wanting to visit France. She had wild dreams of improving the wizarding commerce between the two countries, which had been too brittle for years. In contrast, Zacharias felt quite at home in Dorset, and declared he’d sooner marry Ginny Weasley than go on a holiday to France.

Reality was skewed when Zacharias expressed interest in finally marrying Daphne Greengrass. On the outside, Susan smiled and admitted it was a fine match, but he came to the understanding he knew Susan too well to believe her.

In a mock duel, Zacharias Smith learned that Susan Bones still had the faster wand.

After a rough night of drowning his frustration in firewhiskey, Zacharias couldn’t remember how many details, if any, of his private life he’d revealed to his friend when she’d refused to let him floo home. Since she started treating him differently, as if more breakable than ever, he assumed he told her too much.

She persuaded him against writing a harsh article on the biased Quidditch views of Ginny Potter in the Daily Prophet. She saved him his job, even when his confrontation with the other journalist cost him a well-placed Bat Bogey Hex. The day after, he swore to give no more attention to anyone he’d once held a grudge against in boarding school. He never saw Ginny or Harry Potter, again.

Susan surprised Zacharias when she didn’t marry Justin Finch-Fletchley. He had to learn from Hannah that Justin married a Muggle girl from Cornwall, over a year since his relationship with Susan had ended. No matter how many times he asked her, Susan never confessed what had gone wrong; she insisted no ill feelings were shared between Justin and her.

Under pressure, Zacharias tried to separate his family life from that of his friends. But, after his mother-in-law called Susan a Mudblood in public, he broke off ties to the Greengrasses. When this harsh rigidity caused a strain in his marriage with Daphne, who refused to ever leave her mother, father, or sister behind, Zacharias felt increasingly forced to make a choice between her and Susan.

Susan and Daphne never became close, much to Zacharias’ annoyance. Raised to believe in pure-blood supremacy, Daphne had trouble looking past Susan’s heritage – though she did learn tolerance. Zacharias asked Susan to be more understanding of Daphne’s position. Only after checking the owl mail for two months did he understand Susan would never write him back on that, and understand exactly what he had said. Susan forgave him, as she always did, but left for France shortly after. When troubled in his sleep, Zacharias convinced himself he had nothing to do with her leaving the country.

After spending two years in Lyon, Susan Bones married Pierre Laurent, a wizarding philosopher. Pierre, although a friendly and sociable wizard, couldn’t help but make light fun at the fact Zacharias couldn’t understand a single sentence in French. Zacharias, whose English blood ran deep, considered Pierre a tosser and complete piss-pot. The root of the tension derived from Zacharias’ loathing over Susan moving to France permanently. In a fit of anger, he stopped speaking to her for years. Susan finally re-established their friendship when she visited Dorset with her son Fletcher and daughter Marielle. Zacharias realised too late how stupid he’d been in keeping a grudge.

November 2018, Daphne received a letter from Susan, pronouncing the birth of her second son, Zacharie Laurent.

--
I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. Characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Fanfiction: I Desire, I Feel

2008-09-26T16:53:26Z

Title: I Desire, I Feel
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones
Prompt: Birthday
Word Count: 1783
Rating: PG13
Summary: Zacharias never believed in Divination. It was all a bunch of philosophical nonsense, but Susan was dedicated to that rubbish. It helped her forget she was supposed to be hurting.
Author’s Notes: Concentrates on the Zodiac. You don’t have to be familiar with it.

“Why can’t you use someone else? Justin probably likes this sort of thing.”

Susan’s smile didn’t waver as she set a battered copy of Unfogging the Future on the desk. Pushing her chair closer, she motioned for Zacharias to sit across from her. “I’ve already read Justin’s sign, and Eleanor shared his. I need someone different. It won’t kill you. You don’t even have Quidditch practice today. Please?”

She had a natural gift in convincing him to do things he didn’t even want to do. It had to be some sort of magic only witches could perform, something dormant that couldn’t be described. Whatever it was, it convinced him to sit down in the seat opposite, sighing heavily and leaning into his palms. “What do I have to do?”

“We’ve talking about astrology, and using it to predict the future. Not so far, of course. Professor Trelawney says we won’t get into real details until our last year. Anyways…” Fingers flipped through the pages, but the boy across from her looked less than thrilled at her enthusiasm.

When he had been at the end of his second year choosing his classes, Divination seemed to be the most useless. Nothing but philosophical nonsense, finding horrible omens in tealeaves and looking to the stars for how they would find love. Bollocks, the lot of it.

“Your birthday’s the 30th October.” Zacharias shrugged, indifferent to it all, as she found the page she’d been searching for. “You were born under the sign Scorpio.”

“So, is that good or bad?”

Laughing a little behind her hand, as if it were such a stupid question to ask, Susan explained, “There’s nothing good or bad about this. It’s about seeing into your future. You’re fixed in the Water sign, ruled by Pluto and Mars.”

His arms crossed, agitated already with how incredibly obscure the information was. “What’s all that supposed to mean?”

“It has to do with how you behave,” answered Susan.

A laugh escaped before he could stop himself. “Oh please. You are the way you are, and it’s got nothing to do with Mars or whatever being in some kind of alignment.”

Susan sighed slightly, not unused to her friend’s lack of respect in the subject she was trying desperately to keep up in to achieve a satisfactory exam result. Zacharias preferred practical courses, something that could actually make sense, and there was no way Divination trumped History of Magic.

“How about reading your health first?” It wasn’t so much of a real question as it was her leading him away from his whining. Flipping back and forth between her astrological chart and zodiac pages, she looked up to study his face. “It says here, your future health is going to be determined on your paying attention to your dreams. What have you been dreaming about lately?”

Dreams were not something he spent a lot of time concerning over, and they certainly weren’t something he felt like sharing with others. “The usual,” he dropped, not resisting the urge to be slightly sardonic. “Helping Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup, thinking of ways to woo Sally-Anne back, and becoming Rita Skeeter’s new apprentice reporter. What do you think?”

She wasn’t amused. “I really need to make good N.E.W.T.s in this subject.”

“But what difference does it make, Susan? You could tell me that the stars say I’m going to live to be one hundred and thirty, but that doesn’t actually tell me anything. You know why? All of it’s about guessing. Nothing to do with proof. One bad nightmare, and suddenly I’m coughing my lungs out? No thanks, I’ll stick to seeing it for myself.”

As he finished his tangent, Susan’s lips pursed in tightly, and Zacharias suddenly grasped he’d been horribly cross with her. “It’s not about that,” she stressed, trying to keep calm in the face of his abrasiveness. She was too patient. “It’s about realising you’re not always in control of yourself, of your life. You don’t even have to believe in it. It’s just a theory, Zacharias.”

He wanted to say more, say that she was wrong. Say that he could control everything that would ever happen to him. But, instead, he shifted further into his chair, and prompted, “Well, go on then.”

“Okay.” She didn’t smile again, and he started to worry if he’d somehow offended her. “Your dreams determine your health not because of physical symptoms, but how you feel. You need to learn to let go. Good dreams designate you’ll let go of any repression, of jealousy or resentment.”

It had been impossible to hide from Susan the blame he directed to Harry Potter, the blame for everything that was happening to the wizarding world. Not only Cedric’s death, but also the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But she didn’t know how he dreamed of darkly cloaked figures, aiming deadly wands in his way. How he woke up in sweat, and fear that one day he would discover it wasn’t a dream at all.

Rolling his shoulders back, he pressed, “So, what does that say about me?”

“Well, Scorpio’s are known for their willpower,” Susan said. “Does that sound like you? Private. Secretive. Dynamic. Forceful.”

Zacharias’ face was still as rock. “That could describe anyone.”

Silence rested between them as she studied the horoscope charts again, like somehow there rested the secret message to everything that was vague about the subject. “30 October. This year, you’re going to start feeling overwhelmed.”

“Really, the charts told you that? Couldn’t possibly be about You-Know-Who being out there, could it?”

“You’ll pull through it,” Susan assured, but did not distinct between reading from the stars and pulling from her own gut feeling. She knew him too well. “You’re difficult, but you also know when to stop yourself. You’re self-restrained. In fact, I think you even enjoyed the D.A., and you don’t hate Harry as much as you come across. I suppose you might even respect him, really.”

“He took Remedial Potions.” Nothing else needed to be said. Only loons and nitwits had to take Remedial courses, and sometimes he thought Potter qualified for both categories.

Susan didn’t refute, or take her eyes from the charts. “You’re ruled by the pelvis region, and sex plays an important part for people like you.” Zacharias’ eyes widened, shocked Susan would bring a new conversation like that. He couldn’t dare to think talking about something like sex with her. Ever.

He hardly even knew how to respond. “Er…Well, that has nothing to do with…Cho and I never even-”

Across the table, her cheeks flushed as she laughed heartily into her hand. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just in the book, and it’s supposed to be an indicator into what your love life will be like this year.”

“Well, the book is full of shite,” Zacharias snapped, crossly. He and Cho never got far enough to even think about it. Or at least he never had the opportunity to discuss it with her. Besides, Hogwarts was a prestigious boarding school. Not liking any of them had an opportunity for privacy, anyways. It didn’t matter whether he wanted it or not.

“Are you all right?” She was always so concerned over him, but remained the only one who cared that everything with Cho Chang had fallen apart. “With what happened?”

Zacharias shrugged, but bit the inside of his cheek. “Fine. I’d say the chart missed that mark, don’t you think?”

“I’m not really sure how to read this part.” Susan squinted harder at the charts, eyes flipping between the small darts on the parchment. “Love life and finance, I have all the trouble with. I couldn’t read Justin’s, either. Both professors have explained, but it’s so much more precise than an overview.”

All for the better, Zacharias thought. Susan was his friend, and he liked her advice, but she was too much of a busybody for her own good that year. Ever since her Aunt’s death, she threw herself into fixing other people’s problems. She cared too much. “You didn’t talk about sex with Justin, did you?”

“Pisces rules the feet,” she explained, not being rid of her smile. “He thought it was funny, and admitted to being ticklish there.”

Rolling his eyes to the top of his head, Zacharias tried to forget what he had heard. “So, if you believe all this, what does it say about you? You going to strike it rich, or come down with Dragon Pox? Did you ever think about that?”

The grin on her face disappeared. “Of course I did. We always try to figure our own futures first. I’m Cancer, 2nd of July.” Like it was so obvious.

“What does that mean?”

“It means this is all really important to me,” she stressed, not for the first time since she’d begged him to be a test subject. Her shoulders heaved a little, and colour seemed to drain from her face. It was like some sort of barrier had been lifted. “It wasn’t always, but last year when we tried learning the charts, the professor told me it predicted something terrible would happen. I would have to go through some troubling times. Then Auntie died.”

Zacharias said, sympathetically, “Susan, that doesn’t have anything to do with-”

“How do you know?” she asked, getting more emotional with each word. “You think what happens just happens, and we have absolute influence over everything we have to live through. You won’t even consider that something bigger might be in charge, because you’re afraid you won’t be able to stop it.”

He blinked twice, stunned for a second at how sad and accusing her tone suddenly was. She was too sensitive. “What? You’re saying that if you believed this earlier, you think you could have stopped You-Know-Who? Or because you missed the message, you’re going to try and stop our problems by trying to predict our futures? You’re not stupid, Susan. Why don’t you think straight?”

In her chair, Susan Bones’ eyes swelled with water, and she slammed her book shut. In a matter unlike Zacharias had seen her act in months, she rushed off towards the girls’ dormitories.

Casting off the looks he was receiving from a couple of students in the common room, Zacharias determined it had been only a matter of time before his friend crashed under the weight of her own troubles. Nothing to do except give her time to cry it out. Their friendship had survived worse.

It had nothing to do with stupid stars and futile fortunes. The faster Susan faced what had happened, the faster she’d get better. What sort of good came from looking for a solution in the sky?

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Fanfiction: On the Receiving End

2008-09-25T03:53:24Z

Title: Desertion – On the Receiving End
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Daphne Greengrass
Prompt: Shade/to feel or not to feel
Word Count: 1419
Rating: PG13
Summary: Death Eaters were welcomed at Hogwarts, and Lord Voldemort ruled without sympathy. It wasn’t a time to be innocent, anymore. In the face of the darkest year, Zacharias Smith struggles between doing what is right, and what is easy.
Chapter Summary: Subtle Slytherin tactics do not work on oblivious Hufflepuff boys.
Author’s Notes: The fifth part of the Desertion series.

He didn’t see her again for another week, when she cornered him inside one of the Herbology Greenhouses. “Are you supposed to be stalking me?” he asked, piling the last of the dirt on the temperamental Fanged Geranium. “You’re not doing a very good job at it, just to let you know.” On the tip of his tongue, he almost asked how she even knew his class schedule, but thought better of it.

As Daphne Greengrass walked through the doorway, he expected at any moment a group of Slytherins to follow her in. Parkinson, Bulstrode, Malfoy, Nott, anyone who would leap out and reveal it all to be a plan intended to get information about the D.A.

He suddenly wished he had told his housemates about the day in the library.

But no one followed behind her. Not even Pansy. The realization should have set him at ease, let him release a breath, but instead the heart in his chest thumped harder. “This is where you’ll begin with your witty banter, I suppose,” she said, almost sounding bored. “You’re becoming awfully predictable, Zacharias.”

“Why do you call me that?” He arched his eyebrow, feeling already agitated with her presence in the room.

“Isn’t that your name?” she asked, amused at his question. “Most people I meet prefer to be called by their formal names.”

She irritated the bleeding hell out of him, the false friendliness of it all. Death Eater or not, Greengrass had turned her wand on him, threatened to take one of the Hufflepuffs to the Carrows for no reason, and now she wanted to act like nothing at all had happened? Maybe she had short-term memory? Bet his luck on it. “I didn’t know we were on a first-name basis, Greengrass.”

With a toss of her hair, she leaned against one of the tables and traced her fingers along the edge of an empty pot. “I could call you Smith, again, but that’s so terribly dull. It’s such a common name, after all. Of course, we could pick new names.”

Nothing about short-term memory. The girl just wasn’t right in the head. Zacharias didn’t have time to deal with ditzy girls who didn’t make any sense. He opened his mouth to say something he considered worthy of her preposterous babble, but decided not to waste the oxygen. “Forget it. I’m finished, anyways.” Ripping off his gloves, Zacharias walked to the door, all the while doing his best to avoid eye contact with the baffling girl.

Daphne put up her hand, trapping his shoulder before he could take another step. “I’m curious,” she admitted. A harsh scoff escaping his throat, Zacharias rolled her hand off. Quickening his steps, he stepped out into the cool October air, hoping to put some distance between the two of them.

It didn’t stop her from taking to a sprint to keep up. What had he done to get her attention? Better question yet, what could he do to get rid of it? The entire situation unnerved him, simply because she didn’t make any sense.

“Does anything amuse you, Zacharias?”

He hadn’t expected that, but it didn’t stop him in his tracks. “Shouldn’t you be off reading on the Dark Arts, or tripping down first years?”

Wrapping her robes tighter around herself, Daphne sighed heavily. “I meant what I said,” she said, still sounding bored with the conversation. “Let me guess: this has something to do with Cho Chang, doesn’t it?”

The thumping heart jumped to his throat, and his expression hardened with resentment. Although he tried to harbour no ill thoughts of the girl he’d once fallen for, because too late did he realise why she had acted as she did, he couldn’t forget how much he’d felt hurt by her choosing her friend over him. “What exactly do you want?” he spat, stopping his feet in the mud.

“Just like that, Zacharias? It’s all about being straight-forward with you, isn’t it?” Her mouth curved down a bit, like she was thinking hard for the first time since they’d spoken. “That’s why you rushed to save that third year. It’s why you’re so abrasive.”

“Look who thinks she’s such a great mind reader-”

“That’s stupid,” she said, arrogantly. She stared hard at him, hair frizzing and face paling from the chill. She almost looked sickly, and it only matched how low her voice dropped. “That’s really stupid, and it’s going to get you in trouble.”

Zacharias frowned, a scowl crossing his lips at her threat. Now she was giving him pointers on personality? What was her motive in all this? What did she have to gain in walking him in complete circles? “In trouble with who? You? Everyone else deals with it fine, so why don’t we stop playing ‘guess at what the fuck I’m saying?’”

For the first time, she seemed taking back by his word. At least he got some reaction out of her besides boredom and indifference. Enough with the vague intentions and impossible reason. “I wasn’t much for guessing games, myself.” Placing her hands against him, Daphne kissed him.

As his heart skipped a beat, Zacharias jerked his head away, roughly. “What’s wrong with you?! What are you doing?”

Daphne frowned at his reaction. “There was a bet between Pansy and me as to why Cho Chang dropped you,” she said without restraint, keeping her hands against his chest. “She bet you were a bad kisser, and couldn’t measure up to someone like Cedric Diggory. Or even Harry Potter.”

He moved to snipe, but her lips pressed over his mouth again, hands moving to cup his jaw against her palms to steady his uneasiness. Daphne wasn’t skilled in any way, and her lips were chapped, but her breath was warm in the October wind. Blood flushed through his face, and Zacharias didn’t move as both of their breaths quickened.

It finished as quickly as it started, and Daphne took one step back to study his face. He could only image how ridiculous his must have looked, for his ears were burning hot and his chest was panting as though he had finished running.

But as the wash of warmth froze in the cold and his mind recovered from the haze, Zacharias narrowed his eyes in rage.

How could he have been so stupid, allow her to do that to him? “Bet you thought that was hilarious!” he snapped, as each second pushed a wave of fury through his veins. “Going to go back to Parkinson and tell her how you duped the stupid Hufflepuff? Bet you’ll have a good laugh about it.” As his fists clinched, he felt the urge to push her into the mud, if only to make his self feel better for having let her do that to him.

“I can’t really compare,” she said as-matter-of-factly, “but you’re not all that terrible.” There was no malice or snide behind her words, and he could barely stand still as she stared at him. “Just so you know, I didn’t do it for the bet.”

“Merlin’s beard, it didn’t take you that long to finish your Herbology work, did it?”

Zacharias blinked twice to better register that it was Ernie trying to talk with him. The Head Boy stood from his seat, temporarily abandoning his schoolwork to shake his friend back to his senses. His voice lowering to a whisper, he asked, “Did you get the message from the Galleon?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” he said without a thought, suddenly realising what the feeling in his pocket was. After a moment of fumbling, he pulled out his Galleon to see the date etched on the gold. Another meeting in two nights. No doubt to orchestrate a new plan to bring their defiance of the Death Eaters to a new level.

He should have been more excited, or at least more concerned with the seriousness that was bound to follow from that gathering of Dumbledore’s Army. Especially after seeing what happened to Ernie. But blood still pounded in his ears, and he couldn’t stand still as remembering her kiss sweltered his skin and dropped his stomach.

A million thoughts raced through his head, the most significant recalling the last time he’d felt so excited. The rational thoughts pleaded him to remember how the last time he’d succumbed to physical arousal, he’d ended alone and bitter by the experience. The other thoughts grabbed hold of the attention he was receiving, and could keep if he jumped on the opportunity.

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Desertion - In an Act of Befuddlement

2008-09-20T04:50:42Z

Title: Desertion – In an Act of Befuddlement
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith, Dumbledore’s Army, and Daphne Greengrass
Prompt: Yellow/like a game of pick-up sticks
Word Count: 1498
Rating: PG
Summary: Death Eaters were welcomed at Hogwarts, and Lord Voldemort ruled without sympathy. It wasn’t a time to be innocent, anymore. In the face of the darkest year, Zacharias Smith struggles between doing what is right, and what is easy.
Chapter Summary: Everything in his world was spiralling in a mass of uncertainty and confusion.
Author’s Notes: The fourth part of the Desertion series.

Ernie was still limping three days later. “It’s worth it,” he said through a swollen cheek as Hannah tried to get him to apply the rest of the ointment. “Filch still can’t get that off the walls, we made sure of that. Have you seen their faces, everyone in the halls? I think we did it. I think people are ready to act, ready to stop listening to that drivel the Carrows preach.”

Even with a scarred face and mangled leg, Ernie Macmillan held his head higher than ever. But as he recounted what had happened that night, Zacharias couldn’t stop shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.

The graffiti raid against Headmaster Snape and the Carrows had cost their friends. Michael and Ernie tried to get the attention away from Parvati, but none of them walked away without blood and bruises. The Crucio curse was only a start, and after the three refused to snitch on the D.A., the Carrow reduced to almost animalistic behaviours, whipping the defenceless students without compassion.

Yet, the determined Hufflepuff remained confident that the end result was more beneficial than the consequences. Dumbledore’s Army received new recruits over the couple of weeks that followed the incident. The more the news spread, the more people became enthused.

Ginny brought Jack Sloper and Victoria Frobisher with her to one of the meetings, and Ritchie followed by coaxing Geoffrey Hooper to join. After seeing what happened to Michael, Randolph Burrow signed his name, and Orla Quirke followed as another member of Ravenclaw. The Hufflepuffs announced Sally-Anne Perks, Eloise Midgen, and Kevin Whitby to be up to par and trustworthy.

But no Slytherins. There were never any members from the House known to be most encouraging of Dark Arts and Death Eater activities. It wasn’t worth the risk to even try enlisting.

More and more young faces eager to draw their wands and learn new jinxes and defences against the Dark Arts. With new members under his wing, Neville was stepping up to explain the real dangers the group faced. It wasn’t like duelling club; only people who understood that the D.A. was there to keep the hope alive needed to sign their name to the parchment.

In the words of the likes of Longbottom and Weasley, keeping the hope alive was increasingly translating into being unruly to the professors Carrow. “What could is it for us to sit there and be quiet?” asked Neville one night, his face hard. Did anyone else notice the slash across his face? When had he run into the Death Eaters?

“Harry wouldn’t, and we shouldn’t, either. They’re out there, trying to stop You-Know-Who. They’re risking their lives for all of us. The least we can do is make their job easier from this end.”

While the students cheered in approval before separating into twos for practise, Zacharias’ sight swept to the scratched faces of Neville, Ernie, Michael, and Parvati. His fingers twisted around the handle of his wand, and he thought about the letter in the bottom of his rucksack, again.

It followed similarly for a while, back like the old days when the D.A. was meant to be nothing more than extra lessons in Defence – nothing more. In that time, Zacharias learned Anthony Goldstein was wicked fast with his charms, and Ginny Weasley would never hold back against him in a duel.

He also learned how centralised the leadership of Dumbledore’s Army was becoming. No one questioned Neville’s position, nor Ginny’s and Luna’s. Maybe they thought he was so stupid he wouldn’t notice the favours shifting among certain students.

It wasn’t unexpected for Ernie to have seniority, based on his actions and loud mouth, but seeing Hannah become gradually more attracted to serving special opts and Susan requesting more opportunities to participate, Zacharias could feel their passion for the cause rising.

Instead of rallying alongside their newfound, revolutionary fervour, he ordered himself new quills to catch up with his homework. While Ernie, Hannah, and Susan discussed the next night raid in the common room, he struggled to remember the date of Ug the Unreliable’s imprisonment for his History of Magic essay amidst the shelves of the library.

“You. Smith.”

With a swift raise of his head, Zacharias came face to face with Daphne Greengrass, who, with a toss of her hair, leaned forward on the chair beside him. “What do you want?” he asked, with a hint of bitterness lining his words.

“You’re quite rude, aren’t you?” Her nose scrunched, but she didn’t lose any sense of conduct around the boy. Neither had forgotten just a few weeks earlier they’d been prepared to hex each other clear to Madam Pomfrey’s. “Listen,…Zacharias, right? I think we should talk.”

She leaned closer to him, lowering her voice after a quick glance to the others in the library. Zacharias could feel the bottom of his stomach drop, and wondered if she was just trying to gather more attention to them. “Oh Really? Why would we ever need to talk?”

“I hope you’re not so brusque to everyone who tries to speak with you.”

“Just in case you haven’t noticed, I’m busy.” He turned his head back to his homework, and tried his best to ignore the sound of his thudding heartbeat as Daphne leaned even closer. He could hear her breath against his ear, and it tickled the hairs on the back of his neck. “Maybe you didn’t get it. Toss off.”

Daphne tossed her hair back, again, but sighed as if she was suddenly bored. Or possibly unimpressed with his lack of tact. “You know, I think I’ve been pretty civil with you. Did your mother raise you in a pub, or something?”

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk with you, about what’s been going on.” She pressed her lips together, eyes darting over to the tables away from them. “Things are getting a little too restless around here, and there’s a lot of hush-hush passing around. I know you’ve got some idea about what’s going on.”

He blinked a few times, and lifted his head again to study her face. Nothing faltered, no indication about what she was going on about. The quill in his palm was feeling slick, and the blood was pounding in his ears like a war drum. Did the Carrows send her? Did they know? No. Keep calm. It was no worse than Sally-Anne’s pressuring that night in the common room. “Not used to rumours when it’s not you starting them, eh, Greengrass?”

“Oh, honestly,” she whined, eyes rolling. “I didn’t realise you people really are that thick. Must I explain it?”

You people? Really? “No, thanks, I think I’ll just leave.” Better to not stick around to see if she was actually under orders from the monstrous professors. With a huff, Zacharias gathered his parchment and slammed his books shut. Daphne didn’t sit still in her seat, pushing his stack of books back to the table.

“Are you barmy?” he hissed, feeling the urge to push her away rising with every moment she was in his line of vision. “Why don’t you just ask your twat friends? Why bother with me?”

The insufferable girl didn’t lift her hands from the books, instead turning up her nose with airs. “Is there some kind of uprising? Against the Carrows?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She didn’t believe him, and remained as commanding of him as ever. “I’m not trying to pull one over you. I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on.”

Zacharias shrugged. “Get used to disappointment.”

Lips pursing for an instant, she then opened her mouth to give offense to his remark when a pug-faced girl stepped around the bookshelf. Her face lightened as she spotted Daphne at the table, chest to chest against Smith. “There you are!” Pansy Parkinson exclaimed, strutting up to her friend. “Come with me. Professor Carrow wants me to walk the halls, and it gets dreadfully boring.”

Smoothing her robes, Daphne stepped away from the scene. “Well, it’s been fun, Zacharias,” she said, haughtily, with another toss of her hair before locking arms with her friend. With an innocent face, so unlike the concentrated and cold exterior she’d put on in front of the boy, she declared, “Sorry, I must have lost track of time. Just chatting with Smith for a while.”

Pansy turned on her heel, looking Zacharias up and down, and acknowledged him for the first time since she walked into the library. Crumpling her nose, she sneered, “I guess he’s cute.” The two girls left the library, locked arm-in-arm, nattering with giggles and teases.

After staring stupidly at the girls for a full minute, Zacharias rushed to throw his books into his rucksack and hasten in the opposite direction as fast as his long legs could carry him. “What was that about?” his mind raced. Was it a Slytherin-thing he couldn’t think to understand, or was Daphne Greengrass trying to chat him up?

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Fanfiction: Green Like Me

2008-09-15T06:21:03Z

Title: Green Like Me
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith, and the Hufflepuff and Slytherin Quidditch Teams
Prompt: Teammates
Word Count: 2893
Rating: PG13
Summary: After hearing that Slytherin planned to cheat in the upcoming match, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team sends an infiltrator to find out their plans. No polyjuice potion required.
Author’s Notes: Written for a humor fic, with the prompt body switch. This is pure crackfic. It’s clearly not meant to be taken seriously or as part of the storyline.

The final match of the year always left the Hufflepuff team restless. Extra practices were called, and plots were deployed to overthrow the Quidditch Captain for the amount of times she made them run the same plays over and over again. After Owen Caudwell missed the Bludger, for the hundredth time that morning, all of the other players considered throwing him off his broom mid-flight.

“This is the sloppiest I’ve ever seen you perform,” Tamsin yelled from the air, chucking the Quaffle to the other Chasers. “At this rate, the only way we’re going to win this match is if the Slytherins die from laughing.” As the team murmured about the possibility, a lanky student ran across the field, out of breath and broom in hand. Tamsin’s face was almost purple in rage. “Oi, Summerby, you’re late! An hour late!”

Sullivan shrugged and bore a lopsided grin. “Better late than never? Snape had me serving a detention for that newt incident; I say it’s a conspiracy. He’s making me serve detentions so Malfoy’s favoured to catch the Snitch.”

“That would imply you could catch the Snitch,” Zacharias remarked.

The Seeker directed a dark look in his direction, and crossed his arms, defiantly. “If you want to open your mouth like that, why should I tell you what I heard about Slytherin’s shifty ploy to win the next game?”

Tamsin Applebee flew down in an exasperated hurry to get nose-to-nose with the boy. Inevitably, the rest of the Hufflepuff team followed, eager to hear what the devious plan was going to be. At the thought of it, Zacharias shrugged. It wasn’t like it was some ground-breaking news that Slytherin resorted to low blows in order to win games.

“What? What did you hear?” the Captain demanded, almost manically. “You want to win the Cup, don’t you, Sully? Well, if we slaughter Slytherin, it’s ours! So tell us!”

Satisfied with feeling important to the cause, Summerby’s smile spread ear to ear. “I heard it in detention. Warrington was talking to Snape about this strategy book they have, full of all sorts of nasty moves that could knock any bird or bloke off their broom.”

“I knew Snape supported Slytherin,” Owen stupidly stated. “But, really, would he knowingly let them cheat? What I mean is, it’s not exactly fair.”

The team stared at the second year with looks ranging from shock to snide, each having to call into questioning his intelligence. “You’re not perceptive, are you?” asked Cadwallader, pushing the younger student from the conversation. “Snape will let Slytherin do whatever it takes to get the Cup. An actual book is a bit unusual for them, though. After all, it does leave evidence.”

“It’s true, though,” Sullivan reminded. “He called it the ‘Book of W.E.: C.H.E.A.T.’”

Zacharias Smith wasn’t impressed. “Subtle, aren’t they?”

“I don’t care if they called it ‘We: Hate Gryffindor.’ Don’t you realise what this is? Solid proof of Slytherin’s cheap tricks. ” Tamsin’s eyes darted around the field, peering to see if any others were around, in case someone would hear them. Lowering her voice, she continued, “If we could get our hands of that, we could put a stop to their plans and reveal them to the professors for what they really are.”

As if there had been a call to arms, the Hufflepuff team cheered in agreement. All but Zacharias, who remained sceptical. “How exactly do you think you’re going to get it? I don’t think they’re going to hand it over just because you asked nicely, do you?”

“Who said we’re going to ask?” The grin on Summerby’s face suddenly looked far more sinister, the face of a genius, or a mad loon. “I have an idea. We can put in an infiltrator, someone who can slip into the Slytherin team’s practices and figure out where that book is.”

“Don’t you think they’d notice an extra player?” Owen chipped in, trying to feel vital to the group. At least this question hadn’t made him look like a complete idiot.

Cads offered, “We could replace a player for their practice this evening.”

“Oh, polyjuice potion!” exclaimed Sullivan, with excitement, but the faces of his fellow sixth years fell. Cads and Tamsin shook their heads and admitted that making polyjuice potion would take too much time; the match would be over by then, and if there was a Book of W.E.: C.H.E.A.T., Slytherin could snatch their chances. That didn’t stop Summerby’s enthusiasm. “I’ve got it! Just find someone who looks like one of the Slytherins.”

Maxine O’Flaherty spoke up. “I always thought our backing Beater looked like that Vaisey fellow.”

“No,” argued Tamsin, scratching her chin with the tip of a finger. “Vaisey’s a reserve, and we need to replace an active member of the team.” She studied the faces of her teammates, even enclosing in on personal space to look at every jaw and nose. Certainly a violation of her power. “Hmm. Our best bet’s going to be with Smith.”

Being singled out caught Zacharias off-guard, who had only been paying half attention the entire time. “Me? Why me?”

Ignoring his question, the Captain announced with confidence, “Yeah, we can replace Smith with that Seeker, Malfoy. He should have no trouble getting that book then.”

“What? I don’t look anything like Malfoy.”

“You’re blond. He’s blond. It’ll work.”

“Of course it’ll work, if you ignore height differences, eye colour, and basic social interactions.” Zacharias rolled his eyes at Tamsin’s reasoning, and began to think they were all off their rockers. As if he could look or act like Draco Malfoy, that prejudiced and pompous prat.

“I hear the Slytherin’s can’t tell us apart from each other,” Maxine noted, almost sounding disappointed in her own statement. “Whenever I see one in the hall, they all say, ‘Watch where you’re stepping, Hufflesuck.’”The others nodded in sympathy, relating to her story.

“There’s the obvious problem with getting rid of Malfoy.”

With a laugh, Summerby declared he could distract Malfoy away from the Quidditch field long enough. “I bought a box of those sweets from the Weasleys. I’ll just stick one on his plate in the Great Hall, and he’ll be at Madam Pomfrey’s all night.”

Zacharias shrugged. “I’m a Chaser, not a Seeker. Like hell if I could catch that bloody thing.”

Summerby muttered an indisputable “hypocrite” under his breath, but Cads told him that Malfoy had been failing enough as a Seeker already that the team probably wouldn’t even notice.

Provoking with a haughty response, Smith simply asked, “What if I refuse?”

Cadwallader grabbed his shoulders, glowering at him in the eyes, and threateningly declared, “This is Hufflepuff! This is what we do, and I’ve worked too hard for us not to win the Cup. You’ll do this, or you won’t be on the team next year.” His threats were hollow, not being the Captain of the team, but a side-ways glance to Tamsin revealed she agreed with the proposal.

With an offer like that, how could he refuse?

Damn it.

Stealing a set of green Quidditch robes from the laundry hadn’t been as difficult as they thought it would be. “You look good in that colour,” Tamsin affirmed, amused with how her Chaser looked in the Slytherin attire. Smith wasn’t impressed. “Listen, just don’t bring a lot of notice to yourself....Wait, Malfoy always brings notice to himself, doesn’t he?”

“That wanker loves being the centre of attention,” proclaimed Sullivan, turning his nose up in the air. “Just act all posh and snooty, put on airs. Can’t be that hard for you, now can it?”

As Zacharias flashed Sullivan a two-fingered salute, the team went on to explain his task. The way they described it, one would have thought they were preparing for a great battle, and Smith wondered if the Hufflepuffs needed to get fresh air more often.

They believed the plan to be sure, that nothing could go wrong. Despite how many times Zacharias tried to explain that he couldn’t act like Draco Malfoy, and that they were nutters for thinking this would work, they stressed to him the importance of stopping Slytherin, and winning the Cup. If this was what it meant to be a hero, Zacharias understood why most met early demises.

All the same, at least it was going to be an interesting evening. Better spent doing this than writing that essay for History of Magic.

The rules were few and sensible: Don’t run into Snape, keep a smug sense of self-satisfaction at all times, don’t run into Snape, make a condescending comment about Potter every now and then, and don’t run into Snape.

Step One had already been completed: pick the spy, and give him the tools needed to make a successful infiltration.

Step Two was Sullivan Summerby’s duty, which he carried through surprisingly well and without getting caught. The chocolate he’d chosen was particularly fitting, and after Draco Malfoy was finished running to the bathroom, he’d trudged off to Madam Pomfrey’s.

Step Three involved successfully infiltrating Smith into Slytherin.

He stood outside of the common room, scratching the back of his ear while looking particularly bored with the entire plan. He admitted to being surprised when people started to acknowledged him as the Hufflepuffs anticipated they would. “Draco, isn’t there a practice tonight?” “Draco, look what I swiped from that first year!”

So far no students had thrown themselves to his feet as he heard happened whenever Draco Malfoy walked by his common room. So much for being some sort of Slytherin Prince. Eloise Midgen owed him five galleons.

Although, he did develop the sudden urge to kick something small and defenceless the longer he spent around the dungeons.

“Draco!”

The sound of her voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Pansy Parkinson threw her arms around one of his, and looked at him with genuine concern. “Weren’t you running sick to the bathroom just a little while ago?”

“I got better.”

From the look of her eyes, she seemed to look directly past his facade. She had to have known. She knew Malfoy better than any of the other Slytherins. “Draco, is something different with your hair?” He tensed as she ran a hand through his fringe. “It’s curly.”

He remained as deadpan as ever as he made something up quickly. “My mother bought me curlers. Everyone in Durmstrang’s doing it.”

The side of her lips twisted, and she might have protested Draco’s new look had Crabbe and Goyle not finally shown their faces. If Pansy believed he was Draco, there was nothing to fear from the likes of Crabbe and Goyle, and as they stared at him with blank expressions, he knew he was safe.

“Draco, did you get taller?” asked Crabbe,

“No, you got shorter.”

“Oh, right.”

“Why do you have Quidditch robes on? Practice isn’t for ‘nother...uh, hour is it?”

“I ran out of clothes.”

It was hard to believe. Had he not seen it for himself, he never would have thought it. Apparently, the rumours were true. The eyesight of serpents was so fine, they could only make out basic expressions and colours. As long as they saw him in green and silver, they assumed he was one of theirs.

Step Four: Find the Book of W.E.: C.H.E.A.T.

“Oi, Draco!” Pucey called as they prepared in the changing room. “If you don’t start stepping up, we’re going to throw you out for Harper.”

Zacharias shrugged, taking a look at Malfoy’s Nimbus 2001. “I already bought my way into the team,” he said, indifferently. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge how exactly Draco Malfoy had earned his spot as the Slytherin Seeker. “You can’t throw me out.”

Pucey rubbed his face with his hand, sighing heavily. “Blimey, not this, again,” he muttered, but didn’t say anything else on the matter. Apparently money really did speak bundles in the House. Who knew it was so easy?

The team assembled outside, the Captain assigning out the practice duties. “All right, Snape wants that Quidditch trophy back this year, so we need to step up against Hufflepuff.”

“Shouldn’t be all that hard,” Miles Bletchley exclaimed. “I mean, it’s Hufflepuff, right? Probably too busy stuffing their faces to even fit their arses on their brooms.”

Grabbe and Goyle guffawed, like it was the end of a hilarious joke. Maybe it was some sort of clever humour only real Slytherins could understand, but Smith resisted pointing out the irony.

“Not like they beat Gryffindor or anything,” Zacharias added, sarcastically.

Warrington whipped his head around with a snap, eyes big and round. “What was that?”

“I said, ‘and Potter Stinks, too.’” The other Slytherins muttered little agreements, although Bletchley admitted that Malfoy’s obsession against Harry Potter was going to cost them the cup. Smith didn’t care, and started losing interest as the Captain had Crabbe and Goyle practise striking the Bludger against the Chasers.

The longer he watched the rough sport, the more he realised why girls never played on the Slytherin team. With a backhand swing, Goyle had knocked Pucey off his broom. Too bad he also almost conked out Crabbe, too. “Wow, you’re pretty terrible,” Smith announced as Goyle helped Crabbe gain balance.

“Malfoy, stop sitting there useless on your broom,” the captain demanded, pushing the other Chasers aside. “Try catching the Snitch.”

Darting his eyes wildly around the field, Zacharias tried to find any evidence of the Golden Snitch. He wasn’t a Seeker, he didn’t know what to look for. So he continued to stare stupidly until finding as good an excuse as he could muster for not trying to catch the almond-sized ball. “Shouldn’t we be trying those new strategies Snape sent us?” Why bother wasting his time?

Warrington’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t learned those moves yet, Malfoy?”

“Should I have?”

Goyle scratched the back of his head, looking like he was thinking hard on what he said. “But, Draco, weren’t we…reading that book last night?” Slightly amazed that Grabbe and Goyle were capable of literacy, Smith still wasn’t impressed.

“No, I was busy. You were eating, or something.”

“Oh, right.”

With a wave of his arm, Bletchley said, with snide, “We told you all to learn that book. We can’t just have it lying around. Can you imagine what would happen if the Gryffindors got hold of it? Those wankers would just copy everything they’d see, play it against Ravenclaw, and we’d be left without that victory.”

“After losing to Hufflepuff, I bet they’re just looking for ways to win now.”

“Not enough pure-blood geniuses on the team.” Rolling his shoulders back, Zacharias only paid half-attention, again. Like he could have been concerned about the long rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Nevertheless, Bletchley flew down to the changing room and retrieved the playbook. “Learn it, and burn it,” he instructed.

There it was, right in the grip of his hands. Slytherin’s Quidditch Book of W.E.: C.H.E.A.T. Good Lord, it was even written across the cover. Cunning folks, they were. Bleeding miracle it wasn’t being distributed around the school, like a newspaper.

He couldn’t resist asking, “Who came up with the title?” The team shrugged, as if they weren’t aware of what was right in front of them. Then again, why should he have expected less? They thought he was Draco Malfoy.

But when Zacharias opened the book, and flipped to the first page, he had to blink twice to make sure of what he’d read.

W.E.: C.H.E.A.T.
Working Edition: Collection of Helpful Exertions and Appropriate Tactics

That’s what he’d infiltrated the team for, wasted his presence and energy to accomplish finding? A book about actual strategies? It figured Slytherin would be the only group to have a CHEAT book that involved honest tactics and game plays, and had to study it, but learned their actual cheating by heart.

“And what are you doing here?”

Step Five: Don’t Run Into Snape.

Smith froze on his broom, knuckles blanching as the cold voice came from down on the field. It was Snape. The team immediately flew down to their Head of House. Maybe he could fly away. Snape was getting older, and perhaps he could out fly him. Slim chance.

There was a reason his teammates ordered him to stay away from Snape, at all costs. “Should I ask why a Hufflepuff student has stolen Quidditch robes, and been masquerading himself as a Slytherin Seeker?”

“A Hufflepuff?” asked Warrington, squinting his eyes. “By Merlin, it is one! It looks just like Draco Malfoy, too!”

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow, displeased with the level of perception in students of his House. “You thought he was Mr Malfoy?”

At least Snape had no problem seeing the difference. Even as he was assigned days and days of detention, had his hair hexed blue by Malfoy so the Slytherins could tell them apart, docked 350 points for stealing the identity of another student (and poisoning him with trick sweets), and threatened with expulsion until Professor Sprout saved his neck, Zacharias Smith realised both Hufflepuff and Slytherin could be full of berks.

His team still didn’t believe the Book of W.E.: C.H.E.A.T. had nothing to do with cheating. For the Hufflepuffs, so practical in their manners and expecting in truth, it just didn’t make sense.

Maybe the Slytherins were more astute than he thought.

--

I apologize for any blatant Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Fanfiction: Desertion - Still Recruiting

2008-09-11T04:59:11Z

Title: Desertion – Still Recruiting
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith, Alecto Carrow, and Dumbledore’s Army
Prompt: Thunder
Word Count: 2820
Rating: PG13
Summary: Death Eaters were welcomed at Hogwarts, and Lord Voldemort ruled without sympathy. It wasn’t a time to be innocent, anymore. In the face of the darkest year, Zacharias Smith struggles between doing what is right, and what is easy.
Chapter Summary: Dumbledore’s Army was seeking new recruits in more public displays.
Author’s Notes: The third part of the Desertion series.

“The lot of yer will discover how the Muggles are prone to beastly conducts.” Heads darted up as Alecto Carrow waved her wand to the blackboard. In a dark tone, to lock her seriousness, she warned, “They try to act civilised, but anything can resort them to their animal instincts. Wide accounts of bestiality have been reported. You can read Cornelius Burke’s descriptions if you turn to page sixty-five.

The Muggles don’t know restraint, and will give into temptations at any opportunity. When they can’t get their females to perform, they romp around with each other. If a witch produces a child with a Muggle, those same sexual dysfunctions are passed on. Half-bloods are twice as likely as pure-bloods to participate in beastly, incestuous and homosexual behaviour, and Muggle-borns four times likely as half-bloods.”

A load of bollocks. Cadwallader’s blood was as pure as his own, and that hadn’t stopped him from preferring the blokes.

But from the eager faces of the students in the front row scribbling on their parchment, they were quick to believe the drivel. The half-bloods continued to keeps their noses as close to the desks as possible, probably wishing they could disappear altogether.

Ginny Weasley appeared ready to burst from holding in her voice, her skin as red as a beet. The longer Carrow drawled on about how Muggle-borns and half-bloods were eventually going to cause incurable strains in the wizarding lineage, the harder Ginny bit her lip.

It wasn’t like her to keep so quiet when it was obvious she was ready to hex the professor for hinting their friends were anything but human. Zacharias briefly wondered why she bothered with the restraint until he noticed her hand under the table, wand moving steadily up and down.

Snapping his head up, he spotted her plan in action. Behind professor Carrow, the words on the blackboard rearranged their letters. “Dumbledore’s Army, Still Recruiting!”

Brave, but incredibly stupid.

As each individual in the classroom noticed the change, each began to nudge the closest with an elbow or whisper, pointing fingers and brightening eyes. So unsubtle were they that it didn’t take long for Alecto to see what was so much more interesting than her lecture.

Reading the board with a livid air, her face scrunched low in a glower so deep the students in front were afraid she might have directed her outrage towards them. “Who did this?” she demanded with a bark. Zacharias passed a few quick glances to Ginny, who stuck her wand into her robes’ pocket.

No one answered, or made a sound aside from Alecto’s laboured huffs. “All right. All of yer, stand to yer feet and present yer wands!” She stomped over to the students as they warily delivered their wands, and with a twist of her wrist she shouted, “Prior Incantato.” One by one, the last spells performed by their wands were revealed.

While several students shook with fear, Ginny stood tenaciously, and as Zacharias kept watching her to see how she was going to escape detection, she presented her wand out to be examined in the next row. Not like she could just run out of the room unnoticed, but he was certain she would be caught until Ritchie Coote placed his wand into Alecto Carrow’s bony hand.

Rather than revealing the last spell as she ordered, the wand jumped in her hand and started to beat down on Carrow’s head and neck furiously. It was an amusing sight to see for a tick, the monstrous woman shrieking as the piece of wood whipped her skin.

A trick wand. One from the Weasleys’ jokes, without a doubt.

Even when Alecto subdued the wand and tried to get control of the class, Zacharias caught the determined nod from Ritchie to Ginny. Whether it had been planned or not, Coote seemed prepared to take the blame for Ginny’s act of resistance.

For the first time in Muggle Studies, Ginny didn’t look so sure of herself. She wasn’t in agreements with Coote, he’d simply acted out on his own. The selfless act of chivalry cost him.

Alecto forgot about the words on the blackboard as she exacted revenge for the prank, mercilessly casting “Crucio!” on Ritchie until he fell to the ground in a cry of anguish. The weedy-looking boy that he was, it didn’t take long for him to be in tears, aching down at Carrow’s boot. Gargled sounds erupted from the back of his throat, but the Death Eater was relentless in her anger.

The classroom filled with screams and gasps, as those closest to Coote backed away from the scene as quickly as they could.

Everyone, except Ginny Weasley.

“Can’t say much about Muggles knowing no restraint in your course now, can you?” she declared, finally releasing her scorn on the vicious professor. “A little practical joke, and it has you as rapid as a wolverine. For Merlin’s sake, it even looks like you’re foaming at the mouth.”

It took all of two moments for Alecto to direct her attention to Ginny. As she suffered the same as her Gryffindor comrade-in-arms, Zacharias Smith watched from the back of the group, a hand on his wand but without the courage to act.

That Thursday, Ritchie Coote was invited to the next meeting. With a stroke of the quill, he became the D.A.’s newest recruit, and with immense pride. “Always thought your brothers were geniuses,” he admitted to Ginny at the meeting. “I’ve been a fan of their products ever since the sweets’ box. I couldn’t let Carrow after you. I hear you’re just as brilliant as your brothers at those types of things.”

News of Ginny and Ritchie filled the mouths of the Army, and Ernie expressed his approval louder than anyone. “She’s more than brilliant, I say. Can’t you see? If we get the word out, we can enlist new members. Eloise Midgen asked me about it last night.”

“I think Sally-Anne’s beginning to suspect,” piped Hannah.

Michael offered, “I think Randolph Burrow would make an excellent addition. He’s a prefect, and is at the top of his class.”

“Yes, he’s very knowledgeable in Charms. Although, he is prone to attacks from wrackspurts,” added Luna with a sigh. No one bothered asking the obvious question.

With enthusiasm, Ritchie said, “If I’m here, I know Geoffrey will definitely want to be part of this.”

“Hooper?” asked Seamus, with disgust. “That whiner?”

“You did say we could use all the help we could get,” Neville reminded. With discontent, Seamus agreed with his own words. “I think it would be a great asset for the D.A. to recruit new members, and Ginny was on to something in Carrow’s class. Let them know we’re out there, fighting this.”

“You heard what Carrow did,” said Zacharias from his seat. “Why should we face the Unforgivables for that?”

“You didn’t exactly face much of anything.” Ginny crossed her arms, and with contempt remarked on how he didn’t stand up with her and Coote. This sparked a brief dispute about whether they needed to be so visible with their messages. Anthony thought the idea was just as irresponsible as Zacharias did, but Ginny and the Gryffindors declared the more vocal they were, the more successful they would be.

A night of defence lessons was replaced with a vote for openly recruiting new members. Dumbledore’s Army was so small in numbers, despite comparing fifteen students to three Death Eaters.

Neville Longbottom decided it would be best to become more organized in their public declarations. Nighttime raids, graffiti on the walls, and flashy defiance of the Hogwarts administration. It would serve the same purpose as Ginny’s, but with more security and secrecy.

While many were ready to stand and sacrifice themselves for the cause, safety rang in the minds of the others. It was the best compromise, and possibly the smartest way of executing their plan.

Even Zacharias had to admit Neville was stepping up to his role as the leader of Dumbledore’s Army. The organization was tight, and all possible questions of what might go wrong were addressed.

That didn’t mean he thought it was perfect. Since the D.A. was reformed, they only practised their defensive spells in two of the meetings; that was hardly enough to prepare themselves in sight of possibly being caught.

The response to such a troubling question ended in sending the most experienced students on the first night raid of the classrooms and halls. In case they were caught and the worst happened, there would be others to continue the cause.

Zacharias wasn’t on the first list. He, along with the others not included in the run, were told to be available to run for help.

He continued to listen as Neville assigned Luna and Ginny to his group. Ernie was partnered with Michael and Parvati, and Hannah with Susan and Anthony. Terry joined Lavender and Seamus. As they were assigned their duties, Smith, Patil, and Coote returned to their common rooms.

They didn’t leave until late at night, using the weekend as a hope the night watch would be more lax. “If you get the signal from your Galleon, go and get Professor Sprout,” Ernie instructed, carefully. He and the girls were covered head to foot in black robes, wands at the ready late that night. “Remember, if it shakes, it means run to Professor Sprout’s room. She’ll be furious, but she won’t let the Carrows after us like Filch or Snape. The others are ready to do the same with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall.” If anything, their Head of Houses seemed particularly aware, and lenient, of their activities.

“And tell her what? You were sneaking around, defacing school property?”

Susan disapproved his attempt at wit, and Ernie, the proud Head Boy he was, stressed one last time the importance of what was going to happen.

With the golden Galleon in his night robes’ pocket, he waited. The night ticked by slower and slower as his watch neared 3AM. With each minute passing, he came closer to dozing in the chair. Even the Quidditch magazines couldn’t keep his draining interest, but a harsh gasp snapped him awake.

“What are you doing in here?”

Jumping from the chair in a hurry, hand rummaging into his robe pocket, Zacharias almost collided into Sally-Anne Perks. Wrapping her nightgown tighter around her body, she stared up at him. Her eyes were baggy, her hair was unruly, and everything about her was on edge from an apparent lack of rest. “What are you doing in here?” she repeated.

“Why are you up?” he countered, the first question that jumped to his mind as the tips of his fingers fumbled with the Galleon.

Sally-Anne gave him a dark gaze, and as the numbness in his mind from a lack of sleep started wearing off, he remembered how much Sally-Anne hated him. “No one’s allowed in the common room this late,” she reminded with a crisp frostiness behind her voice. “Now what are you up to? Or should I let Professor Sprout ask, instead?”

With a long roll of his eyes, Zacharias countered, “You’re in here, too. Obviously you’re not in too much distress over the rule. It’s none of your business, anyways.”

“Hannah and Susan aren’t in the dormitories. This has something to do with that group, right? Dumbledore’s Army?” He kept his mouth shut at her questioning, and the back of his throat dried while he remembered the jinx. “What, are you the lookout, or something?”

“If you don’t know what you’re talking about, taking guesses makes you look nuts.”

Across from him, the girl threw herself into the opposite chair with fierce hostility. She stared daggers at him, frustration practically flowing through her just by being in the same room as him. “Be hostile, then. They have to come back sometime, after all. I bet they’re out there right now, aren’t they? Stirring up trouble?”

Zacharias shrugged, sitting back down, hesitantly. “I suppose.”

A scoff brushed from her lips. “You’re unbelievable. And a twit.”

“Still holding that grudge?” he countered. Sally-Anne’s face burned with embarrassment, and she scooted herself further into the chair’s cushion, arms crossing over her chest. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“What, like you? I’d say the both of us should be asleep, but I’m not moving anywhere until you tell me where Hannah and Susan are.”

“And what makes you so sure I know where they are?” he pressed.

From the way her face firmed, she looked at him as if he was insane for asking. “Don’t play dumb with me, Smith. Everyone around the school is talking about what happened in Muggle Studies, with Weasley and Coote. This whole Dumbledore’s Army’s thing. I want to know what that’s about, and you’re hiding something. You and Hannah and Susan. And Ernie! He’s running around like he’s going to drop dead if he ever stops moving.”

Zacharias shrugged, again. She knew about the D.A., but the thought of incurable blemishes kept him from affirming her ideas and offering her to join. Until someone explained the details, he chose to err on the side of caution. “That’s how Ernie acts all of the time.”

“Don’t you think I should be let in on this? None of us like what the Carrows are doing, me especially.” With a sigh, she rubbed her arms, not out of coldness, but deep contemplation. “You don’t know what it’s like, being half and half. You’ll never know what it feels like to have your life in danger every day.”

“In the end, it doesn’t matter. Half-blood or pure-blood, anyone can die just the same. They don’t care, really.”

“How can you sit there and think you got it just as bad as we do?” Sally-Anne asked in scepticism. “You, Ernie, you’ve got families dating back generations. They won’t touch you.”

Zacharias raised an eyebrow, certainty in every word he said. “Didn’t save Cedric. Hasn’t made Ernie’s life any easier. You know what they did to Weasley. All they care about is getting people to follow them; the blood purity’s just for show, and to persuade the wizarding world they have their best interest in mind. Bollocks, all of it.”

Silence and cross expressions filled the dimly-lit room, as they ran low on expectations of each other and decided instead to wait. But as the Galleon on Zacharias’ pocket vibrated harshly, the boy jumped from his seat. Sally-Anne tried to follow on his heels, but he pushed her aside.

Grabbing the back of his pyjamas, she enquired with force, “What’s going on?”

Something had gone wrong.

“Get off me.” He scrambled to the door, but was almost run over as Hannah and Susan rushed into the room, out of breath and heartbeats racing. Sally-Anne ran to their side as they removed their hoods, and immediately spouted question after question without regard to how distressed they were.

“Where have you been?” she demanded. “Don’t you know you can be expelled for being outside this late?”

Susan grabbed Sally-Anne’s shoulders, but her eyes were so glazed with fear she didn’t even seem to be processing who she was talking to. “Ernie! They’ve got Ernie!”

Zacharias blinked in disbelief, his hand fumbling with the Galleon in his pocket. “What?”

With wet eyes and pale skin, Hannah cried out with fevered gasps, “I don’t know! Ernie set off his Galleon. He, Michael, and Parvati were working in the Transfiguration hall, and I think Filch got to them. Or one of the Carrows! I don’t know, but they got Ernie! And Michael and Parvati! We have to tell Professor Sprout!”

The bottom of his stomach dropped like lead, and Zacharias could only imagine what was happening to the Head Boy under Snape’s rule of punishment. He wouldn’t doubt the Headmaster was probably sentencing them to detention with the Carrows as they stood stupidly in the common room.

“I’ll get her,” Zacharias declared, inching back to the common room door. How he was going to possibly explain the entire thing without revealing what actually happened, he hadn’t a clue. But if anyone could get them out of a bind, it was Professor Sprout.

“It all happened in an instant,” added Susan, gulping in breaths. “I don’t know why. We don’t know what went wrong. Hannah, Anthony, and I were at the Great Hall, and as soon as the Galleon was signalled, we ran off like we were told. We don’t know about the others.”

Sally-Anne stood perfectly still, her mouth open in shock and fright. “What were you doing? What’s going on?” No one wanted to take the time and explain the circumstances to her. Hannah had taken to crying heavily in her hands, and Susan still couldn’t release her hold on Sally-Anne’s shoulders, still shocked from whatever she’d seen.

What a mess. The first mission by Dumbledore’s Army, and already they’d failed.

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Drabbles: Y is for Yesterday, Z is for Zed

2008-09-04T01:48:22Z

Title: Y is for Yesterday
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith, Susan Bones, and Justin Finch-Fletchley
Prompt: Spring
Word Count: 200
Rating: G
Summary: Susan knew him better than most, but deserved someone who knew her best.
Author’s Notes: Part twenty-five of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles.

Zacharias rolled over as Susan loomed over his head, busily weaving a lily in her crown of flowers. It was crudely crafted, looking more like a mess of stringy vines, but the girl wore it like a royalty of spring. The boy rolled his eyes. “You can be really girly.”

She only remarked, “Well, I am a girl.”

--

“Stop over-reacting. It’s not like you’re going to fail the class,” he griped. Susan groaned, but kept her attention to her book.

Justin Finch-Fletchley bent down and whispered something charming in her ear, making Susan laugh and hide her flustered face. With a pleasant smile, he offered, “I have some detailed notes from the last class, if you want to borrow them.”

As Susan accompanied her friend to the boys’ dormitories, Zacharias decided he didn’t like Justin all that much.

--

“Does it bother you?” she asked, twirling her wand around to practice her Charms. “Aren’t you the one who said it was a waste of time?”

Zacharias crossed his arms. “I hear Finch-Fletchley was chatting up one of those Beauxbatons girls.”

Susan presented the flower weaved on the handle of her wand, a symbol of courtship by a true gentleman.

Title: Z is for Zed
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Daphne Greengrass
Prompt: Birth
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG
Summary: He never wanted to be a father.
Author’s Notes: Part twenty-six of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles. Set post-Hogwarts.

He’d told Daphne he didn’t want children. Zacharias never wanted to be a father to begin with. Seeing Draco and Astoria’s son only affirmed his opinion that children were demanding, loud, messy, and didn’t offer much in return.

Perhaps her maternal instinct was more powerful than what he wanted. Daphne relished in the idea of motherhood, always jealous her sister had beat her to it.

For months, at least Zacharias had been able to believe nothing was happening, but when she offered him a bundle of chubby mass, he couldn’t pretend, anymore. “You’ll be fine,” she persuaded, urging him to hold the child.

He thought babies were supposed to be cute. Should the boy’s head have been so big? But as Smith awkwardly held the child, he examined his son’s green eyes and upturned nose. “I get to name him.”

Daphne, tired and pleased, compromised with, “As long as I get a little girl to name.”

He glared at her, darkly, and his scowl sent the baby in his hands into a fit of screams. His clumsy attempts couldn’t calm the upset child. “Zedekiah, then,” he suggested over the cries. The boy was demanding and loud, but he was his.

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors.

Drabbles: V is for Villain, W is for Winner, X is for Xenophobe

2008-08-31T03:30:02Z

Title: V is for Villain
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Draco Malfoy
Prompt: Orange
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Malfoy and Smith decide whose is snarkier.
Author’s Notes: Part twenty-two of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles. Crack drabble, clearly not meant to be taken seriously.

“Running late to class, Hufflesuck?” Malfoy turned his attention away from a group of third year Ravenclaws to smugly point out that any stragglers from classes were apt to lose house points. Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle guffawed.

“What’s that supposed to be? Your wit?” Smith inquired. “Not at your sharpest today, are you?”

A glower crossed the prefect’s face. “What do you think?” he asked his cronies. “Five points for being late, and ten for cheek?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed again, and Zacharias couldn’t help but wonder if they were actually capable of speech. “And how about five more, because I don’t like you.”

“Ten points for ‘cheek’? What are you, Snape?”

Draco puffed his chest, and gestured to the Inquisitorial Squad badge pinned on his robes, like that was supposed to be some sort of answer. “Five more points. Why don’t you go picking flowers and sing campfire songs, like the rest of the Hufflesucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing something Death Eater related? Kicking puppies, eating babies, or something?”

Zacharias Smith and Draco Malfoy discovered who was the true snark master of Hogwarts, and it only cost Smith one hundred and five house points to make it clear.

Title: W is for Winner
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Cedric Diggory
Prompt: Hours
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG
Summary: Had he known it was the last time he’d speak to Cedric, he might have been more encouraging.
Author’s Notes: Part twenty-three of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles.

The morning of the final task sent the Hufflepuff House into frenzy, and it was a miracle Cedric Diggory even had an opportunity to prepare for the tournament as his housemates swarmed him with questions and praise.

“What will you do with the cup?” “No, keep it in the common room!” No, put it where the others can see it. Rub it in their faces.” “Bet you those Gryffindors would steal it.” “Wouldn’t mind showing it off to those Beauxbatons swots.”

By the time they began their Dig-Dig-Diggory chant, Zacharias gritted his teeth and pressed the chair’s cushion around his ears. “Can’t we go one day without this?” he asked to no one in particular, but decided to direct it to Cedric when the older student passed by. “Call your fans off. Some of us weren’t fortunate enough to have our exams cancelled, you know.”

Memorising a few more practise spells, Cedric smiled, understandingly. “I’ve been trying to for over an hour.” His face fell stern, and after looking at his wand for a minute, he asked with solemnity, “What do you think is in the maze?”

“As long as we get the Quidditch field back, I couldn’t care less.”

Title: X is for Xenophobe
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias and Mrs Smith
Prompt: Children
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG
Summary: It was an accident. He hadn’t meant to tell.
Author’s Notes: Part twenty-four of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles. Set pre-Hogwarts, part of the It Runs in the Family series.

He thought his mother would explain it to him. He knew he’d made a mistake.

She hurried him to his room, yelling behind her for the man to quickly leave. She protested to Merlin, asking why it had to be a Muggle-born. She was humiliated of herself; pale in the face, but without explaining why.

Closing the door behind her, Benedicta fell to her knees and grabbed his shoulders, catching her breath. “Can you keep a secret for your mum? It would make your father very sad if he learned mummy’s friend came to visit. Can you do that for me?”

It was an accident. He hadn’t meant to tell. He thought his mother would have been upset with him, but all she did was cry and yell at his father. “You’re not thinking clearly,” she would shout. “You’ll be an embarrassment to everyone. You think your friends at the Ministry will care about you, then?” It became impossible not to hear everything they said, but neither bothered explaining what exactly was wrong.

“You’ll see reputation doesn’t make the wizard. I won’t let him tell you, otherwise.” He supposed it was only fair his mother didn’t keep her promise, either.

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. The characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Fanfiction: Dumbledore's Army Lives

2008-08-30T04:42:18Z

Title: Desertion – Dumbledore’s Army Lives
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Dumbledore’s Army
Prompt: Lunch
Word Count: 2935
Rating: PG
Summary: Death Eaters were welcomed at Hogwarts, and Lord Voldemort ruled without sympathy. It wasn’t a time to be innocent, anymore. In the face of the darkest year, Zacharias Smith struggles between doing what is right, and what is easy.
Chapter Summary: There needed to be order. The night, Dumbledore’s Army would live again.
Author’s Notes: The second part of the Desertion series.

“You’re really fortunate it was Professor Flitwick who found you.” The first chiding from Susan, he’d considered as valid concern from a friend. By the third, he’d started to ignore her.

Picking the food across his plate, he carped, “So you keep reminding me.”

Across the table, Susan compromised with half a smile. “Don’t complain. You did the right thing, but you’ve got under the skins of Parkinson and her friends.” She signalled to the Slytherin table, and when Zacharias made eye contact with Daphne Greengrass, Pansy led the small group in flashing rude gestures his way. “Now they’re going to be looking for reasons to send you to the Carrows. You should be more careful.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” he said. “Besides, why are you worried about me? Ernie’s the one who gets handed his own by the professors, and you treat him like some sort of hero. Why don’t you shake your finger at him?”

Susan waited a few minutes, mulling over her wording as she finished her pumpkin juice, before she responded. “Ernie’s got excellent marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

He glared through the loose fringe, lowering his voice. “You didn’t answer my question.”

The wait for an answer was in vain as she attended to her pudding, but Zacharias didn’t stop prompting for further explanation. Scooping the fork alongside her bowl, she finally admitted, “Oh, stop being so offended. Defence has never been your strongest class. I just don’t want to see you get in a duel with the Slytherins. They’re loving this, the Dark Arts, and what’s worse, they’re brilliant at it.”

It wasn’t a lie that Defence was his worst class, but at least he could convince himself it was because the course couldn’t keep a professor for more than a year. He’d learned more about it from a year in Dumbledore’s Army than all years combined, and Alecto Carrow was now distorting the class in order to teach students how to ruthlessly attack anyone who didn’t share their views.

Zacharias shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Susan didn’t have any sort of faith in him. Or maybe she just cared too much. “Please. I would have had antlers sprouting from Greengrass’s head before she knew what hit her.”

His owl flew inside, soaring down around the other birds before landing on the table. Untying the parchment from his foot, Zacharias shooed the bird away with food. Susan leaned on her elbows, as he unfolded the parchment. “Who’s it from?”

“My father,” he said. “It took him long enough.”

      Zacharias,

       The Ministry has finished investigating our Department. You know I cannot send you anymore details, but I will be away from Dorset for an extended time. If you must write, keep your letters to a necessary minimum until I contact with you, again. Continue listening to your professors and Headmaster Snape.. Keep your head down, eyes open, and stay out of trouble. Don’t draw needless attention to yourself. It would be best if you start giving more attention to the company you’re keeping, and try to distance yourself from those who could put you in fault with the new administration. If you find yourself being mistreated, don’t be hesitant to detail your heritage to them. It’s your birthright, and it will keep you safe.

      - E. E. Smith

With a frustrated glower, he folded the letter and stuffed it into his rucksack before looking back at Susan, who prompted, “What did he say?”

“Not much,” he lied. He’d always known his parent possessed a smug sense of prestige, but Zacharias had never seen his father as a blood racist. The Smiths had a long line of admiration for the Boneses, after all. “He’s taking a holiday.”

Susan didn’t believe him. “My parents are getting worried, too - especially my Dad. He thinks Mum should go into hiding with the other Muggles. He’s afraid You-Know-Who’s targeting the family. First my grandparents, then Uncle Edgar, and Auntie Amelia. It’s tearing him to pieces. If it weren’t for the mandatory attendance, I doubt he’d let me out of his sight.”

“Yeah…” Despite his father’s persistent paranoia that Death Eaters were pressuring against them, Zacharias never felt targeted. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or any of the dark followers, had killed no one in his family. “So why do you praise everyone who speaks out? It’s going to bring a lot of notice, you know.”

“I know.” She was suddenly sad, remembering so many losses. “But, it’s worth it.”

The nights were restless for Zacharias Smith, and remained the time when his mind refused to shut down and forget the problems he faced during the day. He wished there was an off-switch for it all, but lying in his bed after dark, he thought of Ernie’s words, Susan’s view on worth, and his father’s warning. He had second thoughts, tried to think what he would do if he were caught in a real duel, and remembered how very dangerous the Carrows were.

In the silence of the dark dorms, he thought, planned, and questioned until his mind would finally find comfort in sleep.

A loud step creaked in the floor, and Zacharias’ eyes snapped open as he felt a hand slide over his mouth. Twisting around to sit upright, his sight adjusted to the dark enough to see Ernie standing over him, a finger pressed against his lips. “Quiet,” he whispered. “Get up and follow me.”

Taking a look over at his sleeping roommates, Zacharias groaned. “Are you mad? What time is it?” Ernie shushed him again, and with disrupted aggravation, Zacharias got up and followed him into the common room. Hannah and Susan were already there, huddled close to the dimmed fire. “What’s all of this about?”

“This.” Ernie withdrew a coin from his pocket: the Galleon from Dumbledore’s Army. In the palm of his hand, the piece of gold shook, the numbers flashing the current date where the serial number should have been. “Where are yours? They’ve been set off since Monday.”

Both of the girls presented their coins, but Zacharias admitted, “It’s in my school trunk. Didn’t really think I’d need it again. Are you telling me Potter’s finally back?”

“No, Harry’s not here,” said Ernie, a look of disappointment on his face for his friend’s irresponsibility. Taking a quick glance around, making sure no late stragglers were about to listen, he continued to explain, “Listen, I’ve been speaking with Neville. There’s been word the D.A. may be starting, again. We’ve been trying to keep everything quiet for the time. I think the Carrows are beginning to suspect something’s stirring, so we decided to use the Galleons to send a message about this.”

“Why bring back the D.A. now?” asked Zacharias. “With the Carrows keeping track of us every step we make?”

Hannah frowned, standing quickly on her feet. “I like the idea.” She seemed prepared to defend the restoration of the D.A., but Ernie pressured them to keep their voices down and that they would have time to figure everything out when they reached the Room of Requirement.

“This doesn’t feel right without Justin.” They all could sympathise with Susan. Justin Finch-Fletchley was as strong a member as Ernie, always proposing the unity of students of any blood lineage. Their little group didn’t feel complete without him. But what could they do? Justin was right to run, to keep away from Hogwarts and the Ministry’s registration.

Hannah smiled, and held Susan’s hand for comfort. “We should go,” she suggested, putting the coin away.

Smith was cautious, and reluctantly followed the older students as they sneaked across the corridors to the room. They could have told him about the meeting, and not just assumed he kept the Galleon on him at all times.

They were more careful than even when they were worried the Inquisitorial Squad could find them. Ernie would turn the corners first, keeping eyes keen for Mrs Norris, Filch, and the Slytherin prefects. When the coast was clear, they darted up the stairs, and made it to their destination without capture.

Nothing would have been worse than getting caught. Even Professor Sprout wouldn’t have been able to keep them away from the Carrows’ punishments.

By the time the last Ravenclaws arrived, there were only fourteen bodies in the room. A gross cut in the number of original members, but not entirely unexpected. Many had completed their time at Hogwarts, and some, like Harry Potter, didn’t return.

It was Neville Longbottom who stepped to the front of the group, Ginny persuading him to address the lot. “Um…It’s good to see you made it here,” he started, clearly uneasy with the amount of attention he was receiving from the stares of every individual present. “Sorry we had to meet so late…or early, I suppose it is.”

Did he call them to waste their time with small talk?

“Everyone here knows what’s happened to the school,” Neville said, gaining more confidence as he spoke. “Snape has Death Eaters surrounding the school, and even has them teaching our classes. They’re tor…torturing anyone who doesn’t think like they do, anyone who refuses to use the Dark Arts. They’re trying to turn us against all the Muggles and Muggle-born.”

“It’s working, too,” piped Terry Boot. “We hear it all of the time in our common room, that rubbish. We even had a few who tried to send trick sweets to Muggles through the owl mail.”

Michael Corner nodded, adding, “I broke apart the plan, but now they’re calling me a blood traitor. Turned me in to Alecto Carrow, and got me this.” He pointed to the cut across his cheek. A few voices across the room praised his action, a couple with their own scars to show - including Ernie Macmillan.

“That’s why I think the D.A. should be brought back,” continued Neville. “It’d be smarter to ban together and try to keep the other students safe. Let the others know what we’re standing for.”

“You don’t expect us to match magic against the Carrows, do you?” Zacharias asked with a scowl. “They’re Death Eaters. Rally a battle against them, and you really think they’re going to hold back?”

Neville shook his head, and went on to explain the purpose of the D.A., at that moment, was not to try duelling with the Death Eaters, but to keep the morale around Hogwarts. Others needed to know all hope wasn’t lost. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named couldn’t take their will, as long there were those still willing to fight. It was unacceptable that first years were being beaten, that students were afraid to be close to anyone with impure heritage.

“It’s a lot better than joining them, I say,” Ginny firmly stated, standing by Neville’s side. “That’s what it’s going to boil down to. If any of you want to hide, fine, but I don’t plan on making their jobs any easier.” A chant of ‘hear, hear’ erupted in the group, and Ginny looked proud of her peers.

Ernie stepped forward, completely enthralled with how the meeting was going. He seemed itching to be taking a stand, puffing his chest to show the Head Boy badge pinned to his pyjamas. “If they see us defying You-Know-Who, it might make others more apt to help. Join the cause here.”

“Why just here?” asked Seamus, with fire in his voice. The anger he felt from Dean’s absence had him ready to be up in arms at any moment. “If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right. Let ‘em know they can’t just lock up our friends for who their parents are.”

“Exactly.” Her face framed with dejection, Susan gave a small nod Seamus’ way. It was visibly evident Justin Finch-Fletchley still weighed heavily on her mind.

The room felt emptier than ever. Dean, Justin, Colin, and Dennis. They should have been there with them.

Hannah awkwardly raised her hand, almost timid to suggest, “Is there any way we could get in touch with the others? The ones who already left the school?”

“That would be ace,” agreed Anthony. “I’m betting Cho would be willing to help.”

On the other side of Neville, Luna Lovegood spoke, but one who didn’t understand her would have suspected she wasn’t taking the conversations seriously. “My father runs The Quibbler,” she said, languorously. “I expect it would be the best way, since we have so many people asking for subscriptions.”

Disagreements broke out, some saying no one would believe The Quibbler, while others remembered how resourceful the magazine was during the run of the first D.A. Neville got the group to calm down, and declared Luna’s idea would be the best. It wasn’t likely they would be able to rely on the Daily Prophet to print the truth, in the control of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

“We’re keeping this to a resistance,” he repeated. “We’re here to defend each other, not to start throwing curses at the Carrows whenever we can. We have a right to not stand for this, but we also have to be smart. Anything that can help Harry, and keep the Death Eaters distracted.”

“Are you supposed to be the leader?” asked Zacharias, sceptically. Although he only half-heartedly believed in Harry’s capabilities, there was no doubt at least he was comfortable in the role. Neville could barely use his wand without blowing something up.

With a fierce snap, Ginny said, “We can vote if it makes you shut up.” The two burned holes into each other, but Ginny defiantly raised her hand high. “All in favour of naming Neville our new leader?”

Luna ‘s arm rose next, followed instantly by Ernie. The Gryffindor House was unanimous, but a few Ravenclaws seemed hesitant. Neville Longbottom wasn’t exactly Harry Potter. But with some support, Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil agreed. The majority was indisputable – Neville Longbottom was the commander of the revived Dumbledore’s Army.

Zacharias Smith didn’t like it. He was even more unsettled when Neville named Ginny and Luna as his co-leaders. From the side, he could see Ernie giving him a pressured glance, as if pleading with him to stop being so difficult. He couldn’t keep quiet, especially when it came time to sign the parchment. “The last time we tried this, Umbridge found us. Why can’t we just use the Galleons?”

He wasn’t the only one who looked uncomfortable. “Not to mention the jinx,” Anthony reminded. The fate of Marietta, the consequence of turning in the D.A., would not quickly leave their minds. “Don’t misunderstand me, it was brilliant, and I’m sorry it was one of ours that betrayed us. But, Hermione didn’t exactly give us much warning about it.”

“Why should she have?” Ginny crossed her arms. Neville looked between her and the group, holding the parchment, quill, and ink tentatively as though the situation could break with a single word. It didn’t stop Ginny Weasley, grown to the role of co-leader like a duck to water. “You all agreed loyalty to the D.A. That should have been enough.”

“Can you promise it’s not going to end up in Snape’s hands?” Padma Patil’s face flushed in fret. They were lucky that time. Umbridge could have expelled them, broke their wands in half. Worst case, they could have been sent to Azkaban.

“Or the Carrows,” her sister added. “That would be terrible.”

If any parchment with their names fell in the wrong hands, they were facing worse consequences than a prison sentence. They would be lucky to get out of it with all of their skin attached.

Neville tried to calm their concerns, keeping his tone understanding and strong. “I know you’re worried, and I don’t blame you. It’s getting crazy, but this is a war. We need to know who’s on our side. This isn’t going to be like it was last time. We have a lot more to lose, so we’re not going to force any of you to sign if you don’t want. But I’d rather die than serve You-Know-Who. If we don’t keep the hope alive, that’s all the choice we’re going to have: become Death Eaters, or...if the Carrows have their way…”

The room went quiet, with only the sound of escaping breaths being heard. Individuals took advantage of the silence to understand the grave seriousness that faced everyone in their decision. Previously, most of them were still kids, signing for some extra lessons on Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Now it felt like they were signing their lives away from the Death Eaters, and agreeing to serve on the side of resistance.

It was the most important decision any of them would ever make.

Neville signed first, followed immediately by Ginny, Luna, and Ernie. Seamus jumped to give his signature ahead of the rest. Hannah signed next and passed the parchment to Michael. Anthony, with last minutes hesitance, signed, and Terry admitted he was looking forward to giving the Carrows hell as he crossed his t. The Patil sisters agreed, with Lavender right behind them. Susan scribed her signature, and handed it Zacharias.

Last, as he had been before, Zacharias only stared at the parchment: the binding contract. The letter, still in his rucksack, plagued his mind like a fly, his father’s warning to keep out of trouble. What would his father do if he knew about his son joining Dumbledore’s Army? The way the choices were presented, he didn’t see a winning situation, either way.

But, he too decided it was the right thing to do, and signed his name to the bottom of the list.

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors.

Fanfiction: Desertion - Our Duty

2008-08-24T04:24:52Z

Title: Desertion – Our Duty
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith, Amycus Carrow, Ernie Macmillan, and Daphne Greengrass
Prompt: Who?/what’s his/her name?
Word Count: 1452
Rating: PG13
Summary: Death Eaters were welcomed at Hogwarts, and Lord Voldemort ruled without sympathy. It wasn’t a time to be innocent, anymore. In the face of their darkest year, Zacharias Smith struggles between doing what is right, and what is easy.
Chapter Summary: It was their duty to stand up for them. Zacharias learned that it could be more trouble than it’s worth.
Author’s Notes: The first part of the Desertion series, a collection of fics centering on Zacharias’ choice in Deathly Hallows. Also the first in the Bohemian Rhapsody set.

Amycus Carrow’s lopsided mouth screwed into a serious frown, flicking his wand up and down as he paced in front of the room. “You’ve been taught how to try and defend yourselves from the Dark Arts. And what for? Pitting wizards against wizards? No, they’ve been trying to protect you from the greater threat.”

The classroom was deathly quiet, with only the sound of quills scratching paper challenging the Dark Arts professor. Apart from a few passing glances between concerned students, no one lifted their heads much. Amycus Carrow established order in his classes as quickly and strictly as possible. Anyone right in his head wouldn’t dare speak unless it was for praise.

“The Muggles, they try to make weapons,” Carrow cautioned, “weapons that can strike down a wizard. That’s why all wizards need to learn to protect themselves, in case one of you is unlucky enough to come face to face with them. Animals, the lot of ‘em.”

A girl in the front row eagerly raised her hand. “Professor, what sort of weapons do the Muggles have?”

“The worst sort. Them Muggles are too dim to try and imitate our magic, so they’ve gone and attacked us in our homes. The filthy beasts are romping around with Muggle-sympathisers, breeding little Mudbloods, and tarnishing our world’s purity. The only way we can preserve our ways of life is to stomp the pests, and re-establish our rule.”

From the corners of his eyes, Zacharias could see certain students start to pale in the face; half-bloods, and terribly out of place in the new Hogwarts, where the administration declared them only half-human. He pitied them, especially during times like these, where every pair of eyes must have been on them.

But as Amycus continued to rant about how all of those of impure ancestry should be wiped off, no one spoke up for the half-bloods, who quietly cowered in their seats.

“It’s no better in our class,” Ernie announced, after the small group gathered together in the safety of the Hufflepuff common room that night. While the underage students were busy scrambling with their schoolwork, Ernie was trying to keep all of them safe; he was definitely the most vocal about everything happening.

Smith already counted fourteen times the seventh year made no attempt at hiding his Head Boy badge.

“I figure this is scaring Hannah and Susan to bits. It’s been hard enough not worrying us sick over Justin, but the Carrows are all but outright ordering the deaths of anyone who can’t at least trace their pureblood ancestry back three generations. They have the Slytherins terrorising anyone who isn’t pure enough.”

Zacharias shifted himself more comfortably into the seat, gripping the book under his fingers. “They already chased the Muggle-borns from the school,” he stated, like it was news to anyone who didn’t have their heads in the dirt in the previous months. “I reckon they’re not going to stop until they only have their select left, don’t you think?”

Eyes widening with eagerness, Ernie leaned forward with a pressing expression on his face. “That’s what I thought. I think we have a duty, to see to it they don’t completely wipe out the school.”

“A duty as what?” Zacharias asked. “Pure-bloods?”

Ernie’s head tilted to the side, looking where Hannah and Susan chatted loudly with Sally-Anne. “As friends, Zacharias. Can you imagine what it would be like, the world You-Know-Who wants to create? It’d be awful, all of it.” His hand brushed the badge on his robes, like a quick reminder of his honour and pride.

The days grew longer, and each was worse than the last. By the end of the week, Ernie returned to the common room with bruises over his eyes, with only Hannah explaining his defence of Justin after Alecto Carrow declared all Muggle-borns to be mentally malformed at birth.
.
Susan praised his act of courage openly, encouraging any Hufflepuff to take a stand for their Muggle-born and half-blood friends. After all, their founder was the one who agreed to teach any student, no matter their heritage. Why should they allow He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to change that?

In heart, Zacharias Smith stood with his fellow housemates. Their House took pride in being the most diverse, and even as a pure-blood, Smith didn’t look on the half-bloods and Muggle-borns as inferior. Susan could send him to the floor with the speed of her wand, and he never once had been able to beat Justin at a game of wizard’s chess.

In mind, he understood when he watched Rose Zeller being harassed by one of the Slytherins. “Must make you feel high and mighty,” he snapped, stepping up to the scene. “Aren’t you people supposed to be subtle?” The Slytherin girl stopped arguing with Rose long enough to give him a glare cold enough to freeze water.

“Should have remembered you always travelled in packs,” she hissed through her teeth. Taking a long moment to look at him, the heated fog in her eyes cleared over in realisation. “You’re Smith, that Quidditch commentator.”

“Can’t see how that’s relevant.”

Keeping her hand on Rose’s arm, the other girl continued in her authoritative attitude. “Your friend was conspiring in the girl’s bathroom,” she announced, face twisting in a sneer. “I’m bringing her to Professor Carrow.”

Slightly confused, Zacharias for the first time glanced over at Rose. The small girl’s knees were shaking; everything from her appearance indicated her pleads for help. Zacharias only knew her as a fan of the Quidditch team the previous year, and while she was terribly annoying, she did call him the best Chaser on the squad. “Conspiring what?”

“I wasn’t doing anything!” protested Rose, twisting her arm out of the girl’s clutch. “Heidi and I were just complaining about our classes, and Greengrass started accusing us of plotting against the professors.” She was on the verge of tears now, and Zacharias didn’t blame her. If she were escorted to the Carrows, she would certainly face a punishment equalled to Ernie’s.

Worse, probably, with her being a half-blood. The Carrows at least held something back on those they considered worthy.

“Why’d you only go after her, Greengrass?” he asked, though an increasing uneasiness festered in his chest.

Rose answered first, slowly stepping away from the two. “Heidi ran away.”

When Greengrass made a try to grab Rose again, Zacharias pushed her away. “It’s only gossip. Not like you and Parkinson never do that. Weren’t you the one who tried to convince everyone Professor Flitwick was actually a gnome? What’d he do, give you a Troll? Have to be pretty terrible to fail Charms.”

With complete shock at his swift action and words, she declared, “You’re not even a prefect. What do you care?”

As the two continued their confrontation, Rose Zeller took the opportunity to break away and dart down the hall. Zacharias couldn’t decide if that was his intention or not; after all, that left him to clean up her mess. Still, it wasn’t a time to look like he didn’t know what he was doing. Not with a student who could report him to the Professors Carrow.

Greengrass seemed more than prepared to do just that. “You’d best keep your nose to yourself, or you’ll be sorry.”

“Aren’t you Death Eaters supposed to be against inter-wizard fighting?” he asked, smugly. In a move as fast as a breath, he found himself looking down the end of her wand. His throat suddenly felt dry, but his hand impulsively withdrew his own wand. When the professors came to clear the fight, they wouldn’t be able to put any blame on him. It was self-defence, he reasoned, and a perfectly good excuse to blast the girl into a wall.

As they faced each other, wands at the ready for a duel, Greengrass was the first to break the strong silence. “You’d better shut your mouth, Zachary Smith,” she warned. “I don’t duel boys unless I’m sure I can hex their bits off.”

He knew getting into a duel was the last thing he should have been doing. Was this how it felt to do the right thing? It was supposed to feel certain, but he couldn’t shake off the fear that it was going to get him in horrific trouble. Still, if this was going to happen, she was going to get his name right.

“My name’s Zacharias, and why should I bother?”

Her hand gripped tighter around the wand, and the fury she was experiencing was so evident that it caused her lip to quiver. He’d struck some sort of nerve. With brows narrowing, she said something he didn’t expect. “Don’t you dare call me a Death Eater.”

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
</div>

Drabbles: S is for Sin, T is for Truth, U is for Unlimited

2008-08-21T02:45:25Z

Title: S is for Sin
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith
Prompt: Storm
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG
Summary: It was the final moment, and nothing else mattered but staying alive.
Author’s Notes: Part nineteen of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles.

His chest started to burn as he ran faster, wand gripped in his hand and ready to stupefy anyone who tried to stop him. His eyes darted everywhere, playing tricks on his nerves. The Death Eaters would be everywhere, with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named leading the front of what would undeniably be a slaughter.

He didn’t think of Ernie Macmillan, the first to stand, nor of Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones, who vowed to avenge the deaths that had hurt them so much. Suddenly, Harry Potter wasn’t so important anymore. Dumbledore’s Army recruited fools, and the parchment with his signature, the signature that signified his willingness to fight, was worthless.

All that crossed his mind was how welcoming it was outside of Hogwarts, where children weren’t expected to fight wars. Everything else in his mind was numb. He couldn’t feel anything anymore.

Nothing, until he had to catch his balance.

At first he thought he’d tripped over his own feet, and only looked down a split second to realise he’d actually pushed a Hufflepuff first year to the ground. The girl started crying, covering her head as the queue of students trampled over her. He didn’t stop, didn’t blink, and didn’t look back.
</div>

Title: T is for Truth
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and the Fat Friar
Prompt: Light
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG
Summary: He asked the question every Hogwarts ghost dreaded to hear.
Author’s Notes: Part twenty of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles.

In his years, he’d avoided the Fat Friar often. While the cheerful ghost never showed anything but adoration for his House, the pious disposition surrounding him always left Zacharias uneasy – the idea that he was not in control of his life.

Even he couldn’t resist asking the question every ghost at Hogwarts dreaded to hear. “It’s not like it has to be permanent, right? After all, you’re dead, and still here.”

It wasn’t the first time the Friar had been asked that night. He held the crucifix between his fingers, providing much empathy for anyone seeking his comfort. “Not many choose the path of leaving eternity behind. Those who do remain seek some form of completion in their lives, or are simply afraid of death.”

Zacharias crossed his arms and looked everywhere but where the Friar drifted. “They won’t even tell us how he got killed. Won’t tell us anything.”

The Friar smiled, kind-heartedly. “It does not do well to dwell on details we cannot explain. Think of better times.”

What good would that do? Better times weren’t going to make the Hufflepuff House stop hurting. Only the words of truth would mend, and the truth had to be chased.</div>

Title: U is for Unlimited
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Professor Sprout
Prompt: School
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG
Summary: He hadn’t given much thought to what he’d do after Hogwarts.
Author’s Notes: Part twenty-one of the Alphabet Series, 26 drabbles.

“Well, Mr Smith, what sort of thought have you given to what you’ll do after you leave Hogwarts?”

Ignoring the stench of dragon dung that permanently imprinted on the walls of Professor Sprout’s office, Zacharias thought back to the endless pamphlets that his friends had thrown at his face. He knew this meeting was one of the most important he’d have with his Head of House, and countless had told him over and over that professional Quidditch was unreliable. “My father’s an Unspeakable. Always wondered what that was about.”

With the smallest frown, Professor Sprout said, “That would require nothing less than an Outstanding in both Potions and Defence. You’re managing an Acceptable, but I do see here you’ve achieved Exceeds Expectations in History of Magic and Ancient Runes. Have you given thought to working for the Daily Prophet, Mr Smith?”

Zacharias remembered his manners fast enough not to call the paper a piece of gobshite in front of his professor. “Er, not actually, Professor.”

“Journalism requires top scores in those N.E.W.T.s. A bit of hard work, and you could pull those Exceeds to Outstandings. Give it a thought, Mr Smith. The Daily Prophet could always use an honest reporter.”

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
</div>

Fanfiction: Charisma

2008-08-19T23:45:13Z

Title: Charisma
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Tom Riddle Jr. and Hepzibah Smith
Prompt: it was a dark and stormy night
Word Count: 450
Rating: PG
Summary: Miss Hepzibah was always used to getting what she wanted.
Author’s Notes: I was bored at work, and finally came around to finishing this challenge from rarepair_shorts. It’s mostly one-sided romance.

It was a dark and stormy night, and how appropriate it was.

Outside the lavishly decorated house, March rain fell from fog, and chilly winds pushed against the windows. It was a nasty night for anyone unfortunate enough to be caught outside, but none of that mattered to Hepzibah Smith. As the large woman continued to prattle on of her collection, her eyes never left the tall young man standing by her window, the man with the mechanical smile.

“I’m so sorry you had to travel all this way in this weather, Tom,” Hepzibah apologised, fanning her blushing cheeks.

“Mr Burke will be disappointed to hear you’re no longer offering the goblet from Canterbury. You’re certain there can be no negotiation?” Tom turned away from the window, his charming face expressing little emotion as he persisted. “Mr Burke would be more than willing to propose a higher price.”

Hepzibah laughed into the palm of her hand, stepping closer to her young guest with great attention on his presence. “Oh, don’t you worry about Mr Burke, my dear Tom. He’ll pick through my trinkets and find something else that catches his eye.” Batting her eyelashes, she pinched Tom’s hallow cheek between a fat thumb and finger.

The man’s eyes darkened, voice lowering in as sombre a manner as the storm outside. “I will inform him of your decision.” Before he could restore his cloak, Hepzibah grabbed his arm like a dejected child.

“Don’t be in such a hurry, Mr Riddle,” pleaded Smith, doing poor work at hiding her titters as her mind continued to fluster with lust. The smallest smile on Tom’s lips reduced her to a giggling schoolgirl, and the older woman wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Not in this dismal storm. Wait it out here, I insist.”

Tom Riddle stared at her, enigmatically. The haughty lady seemed completely oblivious to the ominous nature behind his lure. “If you insist so strongly, madam, who am I to refuse?”

Hepzibah’s grin widened, clapping her hands merrily as she led her guest around the knick-knacks and to the settee. Patting the seat beside her, Hepzibah waited for Tom to sit before taking his hand in both her own. The chill, she paid no mind, as the blood rushing through her clouded all senses. “Splendid, Tom! I already had Hokey prepare the tea. Hokey, where are you? Oh, Tom, you simply must try my cakes. You’re such a thin young man, and you’ll just love them.”

As the old house elf scampered into the cluttered room, carrying a tray of porcelain teacups, Tom Riddle curved his mouth up in charming allure. “I’m willing to try anything Miss Hepzibah would like me to.”

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Bohemian Rhapsody Prompt Table

2008-08-19T01:04:07Z

Now that I'm finished with Swan and Snark, I'm going to continue my addiction to inter-house rare pairs with Bohemian Rhapsody. Here's the prompt for rarepair_shorts

HP Rare-Pair Challenge
Author: cesaretech
Pairing: Zacharias Smith/Daphne Greengrass
Progress: 3/13

1. what's his/her name- Our Duty (PG13)

2. like a game of pick-up sticks - In an Act of Befuddlement (PG)

3. to feel or not to feel - On the Receiving End (PG13)

4. a real close look

5. just like everyone else

6. to both extremes

7. when the lantern goes out

8. er... um...

9. knight in shining whatever

10. announcement to the world

11. decisions, decisions

12. a gentleman in closer detail

13. "Is that your final answer?"

Fanfiction: Taking Yesterday

2008-08-19T00:01:56Z

Title: Taking Yesterday
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Cho Chang
Prompt: Circle/I want a clearer picture
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG
Summary: Nothing good ever came from thinking about it.
Author’s Notes: Part thirteen of Swan and Snark.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

It hadn’t been difficult to notice. While it once was common to spot her walking down the staircases, or catch her at the Quidditch field, Cho Chang seemed to be trying her hardest to avoid him since their argument in front of the common room. “I’ve been thinking,” was her main defence. Zacharias wanted to hear anything but that.

Ignoring the curious glances from passing students, Zacharias cornered Cho in the Potions hallway. While the elusive girl seemed particularly interested in adjusting her rucksack strap, he tried to understand exactly what her words meant. “All because of Edgecombe?”

Cho rested a hand on her forehead as a frustrated sigh brushed her lips. “No, it’s not about that…Not because of….” She stopped a moment to take a deep breath, and Zacharias’ ears felt hotter than ever from the irritation caused by her delay. “This, all of this, it’s just moved so fast, lately. I don’t want to rush this anymore.”

The tips of his fingers imprinted in his palms. Rush? Was she serious? She’d spent months keeping him at a steady arm’s distance, and finally after seeing it his way, she thought they were rushing it all? “Is this the part where you chuck me?” he asked.

“I didn’t say that,” she snipped. “You’re always assuming the worst in me. How can we hope for this to work if you’re so unpredictable?”

Smith didn’t try to stop himself from scoffing at her belief. “Me, unpredictable? You’re the one who’s erratic, Chang. First, you’re in a strop, screaming at me on the field, and then all of a sudden you want to swap letters. You say you’re willing to give me a chance, but then decide Edgecombe’s more important. Think you can just lob me around whenever you feel like it?”

“No, I don’t.” By then, Cho’s face was flustered, the conversation upsetting her more and more as they continued arguing. “You’re so abrasive, and I can’t take this. I think it would be best for both of us if we give this some more time.” Her face softened, rising in sympathy to contrast the bewildered look on the boy’s face. “I’m sorry.”

Worse than her words was her feign pity, and Zacharias wanted to shout at her for leading him on for so many weeks. How could she just pull on his emotions, turn him into a useless puddle at the measly thought of how she made him feel?

What had he seen in her to begin with? She was beautiful, a star Seeker, and he’d fallen for it all.

He wanted to yell at her, embarrass her just as greatly as she’d embarrassed him. Had he been able to string harsh enough words, he certainly would have made sure everyone in that hallway knew exactly how terrible she was.

But after puffing through his teeth, chewing over it for a minute, all Zacharias Smith could get by was, “Of course you are. Piss off.”

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</div>

Fanfiction: Elemental Opposites

2008-08-17T23:59:35Z

Title: Elemental Opposites
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith, Cho Chang, and Marietta Edgecombe
Prompt: Friends/the game of compromise
Word Count: 1098
Rating: PG
Summary: Choosing between relationships and friends could have disastrous results.
Author’s Notes: Part twelve of Swan and Snark.

After the humiliating Quidditch match, everything was as fine as it was going to be. The Gryffindors still laughed at his Loser’s Lurgy, but Tamsin Applebee assigned Zacharias so many extra practices he didn’t have to worry about being replaced by a reserve. With O.W.L.s still approaching, and a seemingly endless amount of schoolwork ahead, it was one less thing to worry about.

More importantly, Cho was more comfortable being around him, despite his increasingly agitated attitude following the game.

At first he found it all exciting, and the attention made him feel important. After a while, it became more embarrassing, especially when she tried to hold his hand down the Great Hall. She seemed nervous when he told her to stop trying. But she stopped just the same, saying she wouldn’t want to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

Later, she asked him a favour in their game of compromise. Zacharias knew it was a bad idea from the moment Cho suggested it, but he begrudgingly agreed.

Marietta Edgecombe. At one point, Zacharias had almost felt sorry for her, being disfigured by Granger’s jinx, but after her memory had been completely wiped she’d been no humbler from the experience. Cho talked of all the emotional traumas her friend had undergone due to her sin, like that was supposed to make up for Marietta’s vicious manner.

“I wouldn’t think of asking you to do this right now,” Cho tried to explain. “But, she’s been so upset lately. Her mother might be losing her work at the Ministry, and I’m worried Marietta’s going to break down before her N.E.W.T.s.”

Spending time with Marietta wasn’t what Zacharias wanted. It almost ranked as high as spending a day in the company of Ginny Weasley. After all, Cho was around her all of the time in the Ravenclaw common room. Why should he have to start sharing her during the moments they could get together?

At first, their exchanges were limited to mumbled greetings and glaring eye stares whenever she was dragged along. He and Cho would speak of Quidditch and classes, never the D.A., but Marietta would either cut into the conversations or tap her foot loudly until Cho directed interest back to her.

The more he was around the annoying girl, the more difficult it became to keep his opinion to himself.

“How old are you, anyway?” asked Marietta, after Cho left them waiting while she asked Professor Flitwick select questions regarding her homework assignment. “Taking your O.W.L.s, right? So you’re fifteen?”

A sour tone leaked from her voice, like tarts. The feeling was mutual. He didn’t have to impress her. “Sixteen, actually.”

They both looked to the door, but Cho was still in deep conversation with her Head of House. Tossing loose hair behind her ears and pushing her turtleneck up, Marietta looked back at the boy across from her, indisputably concerned. She studied him, up and down. From the look on her face, she wasn’t amazed. “She never told me what happened, but you know she was really hurt after what happened between her and Harry Potter.”

“So what? She’s not, anymore.”

Marietta’s face twisted in malice, her scowl deepening. “Honestly, why are you doing this? What do you even have in common?”

Getting into an argument with Marietta was dicey, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this. It didn’t stop him from remarking, “Jealous, are you? But of course, having to get blokes to look past those boils, you must be.”

It only got worse with each passing day. Both knew not to quarrel in front of Cho, but the tension between them kept rising to a boiling point. Zacharias called Marietta pathetic for being glued to her friend constantly, incapable of finding a relationship of her own. Marietta accused Zacharias of taking advantage of Cho while she was so emotional.

“Just when is it going to be us?” Straightening his back as he and Cho stood outside of the Hufflepuff common room, Zacharias finally couldn’t stand the company of Marietta anymore. It wasn’t what he agreed to. Was Marietta all of a sudden so much more important than him? “Seems like all you want to do is be around her.”

Waves of restlessness flowed between them, but Cho was the one to try and close the wall as she affectionately touched his arm. “She’s my friend, and she really needs me. You would do the same for yours, wouldn’t you?”

Zacharias tried hard not to think of Susan, whom he’d barely spoken to since her splinching incident. “I suppose.”

Cho sounded uneasy and unhappy with the way the conversation had turned. For a moment he contemplated asking about it, but she decided for him by continuing to explain, “Yes, she does get a bit wary, but it’s only until she gets to know you. Even Cedric liked her.”

“I’m not Cedric.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Please, just give her the chance to see you. You‘re actually a lot alike.”

His chest swelled as it felt like hot lead dropped in his gut. “You have noticed she and I aren’t exactly mates, right? If you‘re keen on her and I being best friends anytime soon, I think you’re falling off your rocker.”

Just as she tried to close the gap between them, Cho backed away from him just as quickly. It was like a button had been pressed, and both sides suddenly became defensive. “Don’t make me choose between you and her,” she pleaded. All Zacharias heard was a warning, and it rang like pounding blood in his ears.

If there ever was a flaw in Zacharias Smith, it was speaking before thinking whenever he was agitated. “Would you choose your sneak friend if I did?” Cho’s lip quivered, and she blinked so many times Zacharias swore she was trying to hold back tears.

She wasn't, but she did sound more upset than he had heard her in months. “I thought you would understand,” Cho said, catching her breath and holding her head in as high a dignity as she could gather. “All of this time, I thought you would understand why I need to be here for her, after everything she did for me.”

“I think you’ve used that excuse enough, don’t you?”

“It’s not an excuse! How can you stand there and think only of yourself? I thought you were different, I thought you cared.” She looked hard at him before frowning. With a shake of her head and a drop in her voice, she concluded, “I was wrong.”

--

I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</div>

Fanfiction: Are We Doing This Right?

2008-08-15T03:08:05Z

Title: Are We Doing This Right?
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Zacharias Smith and Cho Chang
Prompt: Weeks/well, if you put it that way
Word Count: 1412
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Zacharias Smith experiences Loser's Lurgy.
Author’s Notes: Part eleven of Swan and Snark.

Even though he knew he would regret it later, Zacharias couldn’t help but put aside his O.W.L. studies in favour of spending more time with Cho. News of them had turned into gossip by those who cared, and he noticed more whispers from nameless faces whenever walking the halls. He couldn’t have cared less if anyone approved or not, but the giggles and stares started to grave his nerves so much he almost preferred being universally hated by the Gryffindor House.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” Cho asked him as they walked outside the castle grounds. Tightening his scarf against the gusting wind, Zacharias rolled his shoulders back. Would it matter if it did? “It can be frustrating, having them think your personal life is the most important thing happening in the world. I hate it, actually. It’s like they don’t even think about You-Know-Who anymore.”

Although he had no interest in playing Devil’s Advocate for stupidity, Smith reluctantly countered, “Well, what good would it do to think about him all the time?”

“I still think about him, about…what happened.” Maybe it was because she had seen the worry in his eyes, the worry that she was going to bring that subject up then and there, that Cho quickly said, “Not all of the time, of course. But sometimes I miss the D.A. It felt like we were doing something important, especially against that fowl Umbridge. Don’t you ever wish the meetings would start again?”

His mouth twitched into a frown, and Zacharias mulled over the question for a minute. “Sometimes, maybe. It got me good marks in Defence, but really what was the point of it? I still wouldn’t want to be looking down You-Know-Who’s wand.”

A gleam of pride flowed through Cho as she admitted, “I never felt as clever a witch as when I was part of the D.A. Can you imagine, people our age being able to cast the Patronus Charm?”

“Can’t really now, can I?” He never learned to master the difficult spell. His wand never ended up producing more than a few little puffs of smoke, and eventually he’d just given up on it all together. Like he would ever face a dementor, anyways.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with sincerity. “I forgot. I could help teach you, if you would like. It would be awfully impressive on your O.W.L.s; even Professor Snape couldn’t find fault in it.”

Zacharias smiled at the thought of leaving Snape speechless. He’d have a better chance of shouting adoration of Umbridge from the Astronomy Tower than Snape actually approving of any work of his. Snape had no respect for his House, or anyone in it.

Stepping aside to let a group of third years by, Cho asked, “If you were to guess, what form would your Patronus take?”

“Ernie placed a bet with Susan it’d be a skunk. Justin thinks I’m more of a chicken. Can’t say I approve of either.”

As days turned into weeks, Cho was devastated to see a notice announcing the cancellation of the upcoming trip to Hogsmeade. Zacharias was disappointed, too, until he heard that she had planned to escort him to Madam Puddifoot’s. He tried explaining, for the third time, that he didn’t care to visit the teashop, but Cho kept insisting he would love it if he would just give it the time of day.

Maybe Hogsmeade’s cancellation was for the best. He had more important things to worry about than some teashop.

After hearing of the accident that sent Ron Weasley to Madam Pomfrey’s, Tamsin called late practices for the entire week leading to their match against Gryffindor. They’d never played against Cormac McLaggen as Keeper before, and Applebee drilled him and Cadwallader so many times that he was tossing Quaffles in his sleep.

More than anything, the thought of Harry Potter being back put the team on edge, although after seeing his performance against Harper at the Slytherin game, Zacharias had no idea why. Merlin only knew how Summerby managed through the week without a Calming Draught, because the Seeker came close to nervous breakdowns more than once during the practices.

“He’s just nervous, I bet,” Cho suggested over breakfast at the Ravenclaw table. “Harry’s a really good player, and has the best broom here.”

The Hufflepuff Chaser ignored the glares he was on the receiving end of, especially Marietta’s. “A good player doesn’t rely on his broom,” he declared, like a self-proclaimed expert. “Summerby just can’t catch the Snitch.”

“Even if he were riding a rocket?”

“A what?”

On the day of the match, Zacharias was disappointed to see Cho not wearing any yellow and black colours or waving any badger banners. “You are going to be cheering for Hufflepuff, right?” After all, just the previous year she’d been applauding Gryffindor, even after Umbridge disqualified Potter from the team.

She smiled, telling him she’d be in the centre stands, and wished him a good game. But she didn’t answer him, and that left him restless, the coil in his gut tightening again.

Defining what a good game exactly was became increasingly complicated as the match progressed.

Cormac McLaggen was a prat, and so completely absorbed in how the others on his team were performing that Cadwallader and Applebee were able to catch an early lead against the opposing players. Smith wanted to take credit for leading the team in victory, but by the time they were thirty points ahead, he’d dropped the Quaffle every instant he managed to gain possession of it.

Ginny seemed to take particular pride in humiliating him in front of everyone, flying circles around him. At least Cadwallader washed the smirk from her face after he stole the Quaffle, again.

Turning every so often to see how Cho was reacting to the game, Zacharias wanted nothing more than to disappear after Luna Lovegood suggested aloud that he was suffering from something subtlety called “Loser’s Lurgy.”

After McLaggen effectively bludgeoned Potter, removing him from the game, it didn’t take Hufflepuff long to completely degrade Gryffindor across the field. The team was jubilant. Herbert was screaming his lungs blue, and Sullivan was practically hopping from the walls, finally having caught the Snitch for the first time. But while Tamsin and Cads were paraded around like some sort of heroes, Zacharias kept his distance outside of the changing room.

What was wrong with him?

He was angry and frustrated, his chest heaved at just thinking about how he’d performed during the match. Whenever someone stifled laughter as they walked by, muttering Loser’s Lurgy, he’d gather the motivation to give a two-fingered salute. The last person he wanted to speak with was Cho, but after the stands had cleared, she’d managed to find him.

With caution, the girl sat down by his side. Her eyes were wide with sympathy, and that made him even angrier. “It was a tough game.” Zacharias shrugged, as he always did, but concentrated on staring at the spare broom that leaned against a stand. “You’re upset.”

“I don’t feel like playing State the Obvious,” he snapped. “Cads thinks I should be replaced. Tosser….”

Cho narrowed her eyes, and her voice turned crisp. “Hufflepuff won. You should be celebrating, or at least happy about it.” A scoff escaped through his teeth as Zacharias rolled his eyes, but he didn’t reply with any snide or snipe. The longer he stayed silent, the more concerned Cho became. “Weren’t you the one who told me that snivelling over something like this was pointless?”

He turned his head away, hiding the humiliation on his irritated face. “Yeah. Yeah, I did, and it is.” They both could have called it all gobshite, but it still wouldn’t stop him from feeling like the joke of Hogwarts Quidditch, and all because the Gryffindors couldn’t take criticism. So much for that chivalry.

With a discouraged sigh, Cho scooted closer and leaned against him. Warily running a finger through a curl in his hair, she said, softly, “They’re still angry. You did kind of humiliate them during the last match.”

“Oh please. You’re going to side with them? I don’t think that’s the way this is supposed to work.”

From the corners of his eyes, he found it impossible to not see the uneasiness fixed on Cho Chang’s face. She stood on her feet, and Zacharias expected her to leave him there. Instead, she offered a hand, and announced, “I don’t think you’re a loser.”

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I apologize for any Americanisms and grammatical errors. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</div>