TBAY: OOP: Too much butterbeer--Terry gets the D!Ts (long)

[terryljames76]

No: HPFGUIDX 66464

(First TBAY excursion--comments and/or corrections welcomed offlist!  
Not all can(n)ons are mine; most fell off the back of a--er, were 
salvaged from the list.)



Terry stumbled across the sand, clutching her SAD DENIAL mug.  It had 
undeniably been a good bargain--she had picked up a case at the new 
Souvenir Shack to hand out to the loyal crew and passengers of her 
pirogue--but it might not have been a good idea for George to offer 
a "bottomless mug" to anyone carrying one. 

Many residents of the bay had attended the informal wake for Sirius 
at the Royal George.  It had been a quiet, respectful remembrance, 
aside from the requisite corner table draped in silver and green, 
where people were sneering and wearing badges that had been bewitched 
to flash "Sirius the Jerk" in lime green.  Terry had managed to 
ignore them for a while by concentrating on her butterbeer, but 
having a very weak head for butterscotch, it wasn't long before she 
was standing unsteadily on the bar and attempting to sing "When You 
Wish Upon a Star".  At that point, George had signaled for Dobby, and 
mentioned quietly that it might be a good idea to let her sleep it 
off.  

Dobby was temporarily helping out on the SAD DENIAL until a permanent 
ship elf could be found.  "This way, ma'am," he squeaked.  "Dobby 
will help you back to your ship, yes, ma'am."  He led Terry, weaving 
a bit, down the beach.    In the distance, people were taking down 
sandbags and scavenging bits of exploded ships.  There seemed to be a 
busy industry of new boat-building with bits from old crafts mixed 
with some new, imported wood.  Aboard the LOLLIPOPS cruise liner, 
they appeared to be still having a massive deck party.  

They passed a woman and a black-haired boy.  The boy was hopping 
along on crutches, while the woman hovered protectively.  Terry 
rather blearily recognized them from previous posts.

"Hi there, Stoned!Harry!"  she greeted the boy.  "Have you thought 
about (hic) a prosthetic yet?"
	
The boy looked rather taken aback to be addressed in this familiar 
fashion.  "Er...well..." he stammered, looking to the woman for help.

"I (hic) totally agree that nothing in OOP prevents you from being 
(hic) the living em--embod--the Sorcerer's Stone itself.  Now, Voldy 
may not have (hic) known specifically that that's what you are, but 
the prophecy (hic) clearly says that only you have the power to 
defeat him.  So why?  What's so special about you?"  

This was clearly a rhetorical question, as Terry was on a roll and 
there was no stopping her.  Waving her mug dramatically--Dobby ducked 
as it sailed by--she declaimed, "It's clear that no one, including 
Dumbledore, knows why you can defeat (hic) Lord Thingy.  The power 
that you have to defeat him, is that of being the Stone!"  

The woman didn't really seem to know what to think either.  "Well, 
that's very nice," she said uncertainly.  "We'll--try it on and see 
if it fits, shall we?"

Terry waved magnanimously and walked on.  As they approached the pier 
where the U.S.S. SAD DENIAL was moored, however, her mood 
changed.  "How can they have a (hic) wake for someone who's not 
dead?" she demanded belligerently.

Dobby helped her over a bit of driftwood.  "Dobby doesn't question 
theorists," he replied diplomatically.  "Dobby gets enough death 
threats as it is."  He was actually worried about Terry.  It was 
never a good thing when she drank too much butterbeer.  Bad things 
tended to happen.

"You know the (hic) origin of the term 'wake'?" Terry asked, 
wandering up the gangplank.  "People used to lay the (hic) dead 
person out on a table and sit around and see if they would (hic) wake 
up.   They didn't want to bury them if they had just (hic) passed 
out.  That's the only reason I went to that (hic) wake.  But they 
don't believe he'll come back.  Bunch of (hic) non-believing 
heathen...."
	
Dobby, showing uncanny premonition, cringed back against the wall of 
the lounge, where Terry had collapsed on a couch.  With a loud 
*crack*, Terry seemed to split in two.  The second Terry stood up and 
looked scornfully at the supine one.  "You don't believe it either," 
she accused.  "All that overnight boat-building, all that mug-waving--
it's all a cover-up.  You're in denial."

"Well, duh," Terry giggled.  She indicated the plaque on the wall, 
with the ship's name inscribed in gold.  "That's our name."  

Dark!Terry shook her head impatiently.  "No.  It's just like that 
crazy kid on the beach.  Did you ever see a more vacant look?  But 
you wanted to give him an idea.  You don't even believe in him 
yourself, but you had to stop to chit-chat."

"No, I don't believe in (hic) Stoned!Harry," Terry had to 
admit.  "But I really felt sorry about his (hic) leg.  And what I 
said was true.  Could have (hic) been true.  Might have ought to have 
been..." she trailed off, giggling again.

"Oh, I've had enough of that (hic)ing," Dark!Terry said 
irritably.  "And so have the other nine thousand people on this 
list."  She pulled a wand out of her pocket, pointed it at Terry, and 
muttered "Finite Inebrio!"  

Terry blinked and sat up.  "Wha--what are you doing here?" she 
asked.  She turned to Dobby.  "Could you get me some black coffee, 
please?  Very strong.  Not her," she added, as Dobby looked at Dark!
Terry.  "She's not staying."  Dobby scurried away to the galley.  She 
turned back to D!T.  "I want you off my ship," she said coldly.

D!T smirked.  "Some ship this is," she remarked, looking around.  "I 
don't even see any weaponry.  I could sink this thing with my eyes 
closed."

"We do too have can(n)ons!" Terry said indignantly.  "We just choose 
not to display them openly.  We're a non-violent ship."  

"Peace and love, how sweet," D!T sneered.  "Let's see your can(n)on, 
then."

Terry took a deep breath.  "Well, most obviously, there's the fact 
that the curse that hit Sirius was not the AK curse, which is green.  
It was specifically noted as red.  It did not kill him."

D!T rolled her eyes.  "That's been debated all over the list," she 
pointed out.  "The one _before_ that was red.  The color of the 
actual curse that hit Sirius was not specified."

"Aha," said Terry triumphantly, "but the actual curse that hit him 
was referred to as the 'second' curse.  You can't have a second 
unless you have a first.   Therefore it was the same curse."

Dark!Terry changed tack.  "Regardless whether the curse killed him, 
it knocked him through the veil.  It's pretty generally believed that 
the veil is death itself.  To go beyond the veil, etc.  So if he 
wasn't dead when he went through, he was by the time he hit the other 
side."

Terry picked up a STUFFED BEAR (Sirius: True Unselfish Friend For 
Ever!  Deserves Better End And Revival!) from the couch and hugged it 
tightly.  "Are you telling me that a grown wizard, with a wand, could 
be killed by accidentally passing through a veil?"  she 
demanded.  "Are you telling me that, with all those wizards working 
in the Department of Mysteries, that that never happened before?  
Somebody couldn't come along and say, 'Dang, another one fell in?  He 
was still alive?  Well, hold on a minute, I'll fetch him out for 
you...' No, that whole veil thing was fishy."

Dark!Terry eyed the STUFFED BEAR scornfully.  "I don't think you're 
allowed more than one acronym at a time," she said.  "I'll just get 
rid of that for you..." 

She pointed her wand at it, preparing to turn it into a spider, but 
Terry just hugged it more tightly, glaring at her.  "Touch my BEAR 
and I will make you eat that wand," she said through gritted teeth.

Neither of them noticed that the portrait over the mantel was now 
occupied.  Phineas Nigellus had arrived and was watching the argument 
with interest.  

"We have more light weaponry," Terry was saying.  "There's the 
argument that Harry needs a loyal father figure to go home to at the 
end; there's the argument that if Sirius is gone, no one has that 
close 'godfather' bond with him--which might even entail a magical 
binding agreement to protect him--"

"Not can(n)on!" D!T interrupted.  

"Of course not, just light weaponry, as I said," Terry snapped 
back.  "Anyway, there's the argument that Harry will have nothing 
left to fight for--he was getting rather suicidal at the end of OOP 
anyway--"

"Leaving aside the fact that Harry will be almost eighteen at the end 
of the series, and not really need that father figure anymore; 
leaving aside all the arguments about Sirius not being that good an 
influence on Harry; leaving aside that he still has friends at 
Hogwarts that he would fight for--show me the can(n)ons!" 

Terry sputtered incoherently over the slurs to Sirius, but then 
decided it was not worth the time to argue.  "There's the thestrals," 
she said. "Does anybody really think that JKR would introduce such a 
fascinating creature, with such intriguing characteristics, just to 
have them play a minor role and then be forgotten?"

D!T watched her with narrowed eyes. "Where do you think she's going 
with the thestrals?"

"Well, the thestrals can find their way anywhere, we know that from 
canon," Terry said enthusiastically.   "Wasn't it a little mundane to 
waste that on the Ministry of Magic?  And they are intimately 
connected with death.  What if they can take Harry to the place 
behind the veil?"

"So you think Harry will see his parents again?" D!T asked.

Terry's face saddened, and she shook her head.  "No.  I think his 
parents are definitely dead, and were when they passed their own 
version of the veil.  But Sirius was _not_.  So Sirius could be 
behind the veil...all alone...waiting to be rescued."  

"But Dumbledore and Lupin both said he was dead!"  pointed out Dark!
Terry.  

Terry gave an oddly fake cough, which sounded suspiciously 
like "Peter Pettigrew!"  When she recovered, she said, "It's not like 
either one of them have never been wrong.  And I'm thinking of 
building a dinghy so I can visit the ESE Lupin theory every now and 
then.  At the moment, I'm not trusting anything he's saying.  Did you 
notice that he tells Molly, 'You're not the only one at this table 
who cares about Harry'?  He doesn't say _he_ does.  He could be 
referring to Sirius, or anyone else.  Oh, he's clever, that possible 
ESE Lupin!"  

Dark!Terry huffed with impatience.  "Could we stick with one theory, 
please?" she demanded.  "What else have you got?"

Terry thought about it.  "Well, that's about it.  Oh!" she said 
excitedly, remembering.  "Isn't it convenient that the only classmate 
who sees Sirius fall is Neville?"

D!T frowned.  "Why is that convenient?  For whom?"

"For JKR, of course," Terry said.  "Neville is the only one--besides 
Luna--who could already see the thestrals.  So Harry can't ask him if 
he can suddenly see them after he saw Sirius 'die'.   Considering the 
way JKR's mind works, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"

"JKR!" D!T said triumphantly.  "She _said_ he was dead!  She cried 
over him!" 

"She never said _Sirius_ was dead," Terry argued.  "She said 'the 
person'.  She said she cried when she wrote the death.  For all we 
know, she was writing the scene in Book 6 where Dumbledore dies.  Or 
the scene at the end of Book 7 where Ron sacrifices himself to 
Bellatrix so Harry can get to Voldemort--like in the chess match at 
the end of PS/SS.  JKR is very tricky.  And not everything she says 
can be interpreted at face value."  

Dark!Terry sighed.  "I really thought you were pretending about 
this," she said quietly.  "I really thought you didn't believe it, 
deep down under.  I thought I could argue you out of this insane 
ship.  But you're beyond my help."

Terry stood up disbelievingly.  "I don't _want_ your help!  I didn't 
_ask_ for your help!  I'm perfectly fine on my ship, thank you very 
much!  Now get out of here!  Go back to the shadows from whence you 
came!"  

Dark!Terry disappeared, with another loud *crack*.  

Phineas yawned.  "What an amusing young lady," he observed.  "I quite 
liked her spirit."

"Shut up, Phineas," Terry said, yawning also.  "Dobby never did come 
back with that coffee.  Oh well..." She settled down on the couch and 
pulled a rainbow-striped afghan over her.  "Dueling with evil always 
wears me out."  She cuddled up with the STUFFED BEAR and was asleep 
in seconds.  


Terry LJ