Park Time
The Wizarding World is on fire.
Yet, they are at an amusement park.
Hermione’s parents, who are seeing different people while still not yet divorced, have bribed her with amusement park tickets, and she has the extended family pack.
(What lovely parents.)
Hedwig thinks back to the past two months.
Voldemort took personal offense to the only person he’s ever cared for being brutally murdered in front of him. Who would’ve guessed?
Hedwig didn’t know what to do after Dumbledore’s body splattered on the ground, couple of organs on the lawn here and there. So, she went back up and threw Snape off the tower too.
Luckily for him, his animagus form is a bat, so he didn’t die.
(Hedwig did not know this at the time.)
(After he transformed, he silently regretted his instincts. He wished he would’ve just taken the opportunity to die.)
But, that’s besides the point. The point is that currently, Dumbledore’s body is in the Hospital Wing being sewn up.
He is still in there mentally, somewhere. No one, not even Snape, understands why or how Dumbledore’s soul didn’t get anchored to someone else after he was momentarily trying to see Ariana.
(Ariana, Ariana, where are thou?
Dumbledore runs around in his mind scape naked, flowers blossoming behind him as he goes.
He twirls. He sings. He laughs.
All of a sudden, a thought hits him.
He wants to battle a dragon.
He summons an imaginary dragon and starts battling it with lemon drops, laughing all the while.)
Well, it’s none of her business, really. Horcruxes are an unknown and touchy subject, woefully understudied. Odd things are bound to happen.
The matter of where Dumbledore’s horcrux is? That’s an entirely different matter of its own.
Regardless.
Draco tagged along for today’s event as a distraction against withdrawal. He is only five days sober, but it’s a work in progress.
His first attempt at sobriety included being locked in a quiet, bubble wrapped room with Sirius monitoring outside.
He started going feral, childhood flashbacks leading to psychotic hallucinations. If this were the muggle world, he would be in prison for attempted manslaughter on Kreacher. A new approach was needed.
The four teens are present with disguises. Hermione opted for her hair pulled up, mildly different facial features transfigured. Harry has his scar covered, for some godforsaken reason wearing a Harley jacket in smoldering hot weather. Draco is well… his eye bags are disguise enough.
And Ron, Ron has a hat.
She never said they were good disguises.
The other three have already made their way through, having been approved for screening. Harry is still in a deep staring contest with the worker.
It seems that the worker hasn’t a clue on what to do when Harry walked up to him, one hand holding an owl like a baby and the other handing him his ticket.
Harry looks around him, seeing his friends wander off distractedly. Hedwig is nonplussed. Harry eyes the worker some more. The worker stares back.
“Uh.” He stand there, mid hand stamp, not knowing what to do in a situation as such. His coworker yells to him after a couple of moments, “You’re holding up the line!”
Harry and Hedwig stare some more, eyes both big and round and unnerving. He confusedly lets them go, hoping this won’t lose him his job.
Harry reaches the inside and sighs. “Well, looks like I’m alone… again.” Hedwig bites him just because she can. She mentally argues with him, questioning if she no longer exists because poor Harry Potter is alone.
“You know that’s not what I meant, you mean bird.” She tears flesh this time. “I’m sorry! Merlin, you’d think I’m talking about Sigmund Freud and how he’d love the Wizarding World again. That’s reminds me, about Narcissa Malf-“
Harry argues back-and-forth with his nonverbally speaking bird.
The bypassers stare.
Someone in the crowd is watching this interaction too closely.
—
“Draco! That is not how you play that game! Put the goldfish back!”
In a momentary lapse of judgment, Draco thought the fish looked pretty tasty. It’s like he’s some type of deranged alley cat. He wonders what happens if you drink a whole lot of fish water.
She takes him away by his arm, yelling at Ron to follow. “Ugh, I just wanted a day break. Is that too much to ask for now?! Clearly!”
Ron follows the love of his life, scared.
“You two, go bond on that.” She points at the ride, Zipper. “I’m going to go enjoy my time browsing without any obnoxious whining in my ear.”
Ron looks up at the ride and back at Hermione, panicked. “What?! I can’t! Hermione, Draco will puke on me!”
She cuts him with a cold glare, eyes saying ‘I dare you to go against what I’m telling you and when you do, I’ll rip out your intestines through your ears.’
Ron and Draco ride the Zipper.
Hermione eats Churros while wearing Ron’s sun hat.
—
Harry isn’t sure what’s happening. Hedwig simply can’t be bothered enough to spend today thinking.
Surely he’s not hallucinating the heavy breathing in his ear while waiting in each line? He could see this happening to Draco, but not himself.
He places a nauseous Hedwig on the table next to him to dig out his map, completely lost. She flops like a dead fish, out for the count.
He had used cards to bribe her into riding with him. He gave her three cards each, each one a ‘get out unscathed’ card, meaning that she gets three chances to do something stupid and he’ll cover it up for her.
He swats at his ear, annoying nat hanging around his sweat.
(Little did he know, it was not a nat, but a secret spy ninja under orders from a mastermind.)
Harry exhales loudly, realizing he somehow ended up around the water zone again. This will be a long treck back.
He straightens up and turns back to grab Hedwig.
Hedwig’s been replaced by nachos and fries.
It’s a conveyor belt.
“Oh shite.”
—
Ron can’t help but feel something is off.
Usually, he listens to his instincts, but that doesn’t seem to be a very good idea right now. His current instincts are telling him to go lead Draco to liquor and leave him there.
“That’s when my father went ‘wham wham wham’ and killed the elf. I was gifted his eye that popped out.”
His eyes are wide and unfocused, drooling slightly.
…
He did not want to play therapist today. Draco looks like a walking zombie recalling the time he got bitten after his family was brutally torn to shreds in front of him.
He tries to lead him to a simple swing ride, but there is a crowd gathered around, muttering and complaining.
Ron observes. “Huh, that’s odd. Four rides are down.”
Draco takes this opportunity to vomit.
—
Harry can’t find her. What if she gets chopped up in a garbage disposal somewhere?
Well, she always comes back… so a couple of solo rides couldn’t hurt…
He steps aboard the rollercoaster, eager to try this one. Aunt Petunia would have never let him do this. He went to an amusement park once, but his Aunt and Uncle forgot their wallets so he had to play busboy to pay off the large meal they ordered.
He didn’t get any food that day.
Harry screams as it accelerates, the stereotypical screams accompanying him.
He’s laughing a bit manically, enjoying.
The drop comes. The screams get louder, more fearful.
What Harry doesn’t seem to realize, while all the other passengers do, is that the track disappears behind them as they go.
The lady sitting next to him is sobbing. Harry pats her back and continues whooping.
The back end of his cart disappears.
What a fun ride! He’s having such a blast!
—
This must be normal behavior. He will join!
Large crowds run away screaming, what must be tears of excitement run down their cheeks.
Petting zoo animals escape in a stampede. This is so cool! Harry’s never been to a live-reenactment play like this. Is it normal for it to be out in the open? He supposes so, jousts at Renaissance Fairs happen out in the open.
He notices that the ride he had really wanted to ride the most is empty, not even the worker present.
Surely they wouldn’t mind if he did it himself? How hard could it be?
He presses the button and throws himself in a cart, ride taking off.
Harry gasps in childlike wonder. How on Earth did the muggles attach fire to the outskirts! He will go multiple times, even if it makes him sick!
He hears a loud flop, but ignores it. After all, it’s probably a part of the ride.
—
After searching through all the vendors, she slips out back to a local goodie store.
Using the money her parents gave her, she finally indulges in buying whatever she pleases.
She finds a cute little lion necklace.
She has left her friends behind. They have their own portkeys anyway. She’s positive they’ll be alright.
—
His neck twists at an unnatural angle, eyes inching over the mound of his beak.
Harry Potter… at an amusement park.
Today is the day, he shall have his revenge. No one is around to stop him.
He stalks closely behind, but not too closely. Close enough to smell the foul odor coming off the boy with the gigantic jacket and the owl with the blood stains.
He wants to crack their skulls open, use their bones as trophies while he sips tea in the Malfoy Manor.
He is almighty. He is Voldemort, defier of death! Transfiguring Barty into a bug is child’s play!
He uses his first chance by throwing a killing curse at the boy, missing him by an inch and hitting the worker next to him.
How despicable, the boy does not even look the way of the fallen muggle. How the light has truly fallen.
He would make this kid know true wrath, all in the name of Ollivander!
Next, he tries to explode the ride the boy gets on. But, it does not work! Instead of exploding, flowers bloom all around the top!
What foolheartedness is happening!
He takes it a step further, trying out every dark spell he knows. He even crucios!
Every single bloody spell backfires! Surrounded by technology, he doesn’t put two and two together that that may be the reason it’s not working.
Ride after ride is destroyed, he is succeeding!
He finally manages to light fire to the rollercoaster the boy is on, but it won’t catch up! So he throws out fire again and again and again! Everything is on fire!
He screams. Why is Harry Potter immune to him?!
He is mocking him by laughing. This will not do!
He takes the long way around, hoping to corner the boy.
It seems one of his spells destroyed the entire fence for the petting zoo, scaring them all into their natural primal instincts in the process.
Muggles run around him pushing and shoving. So he kills as many as he can!
But it does not work! All that happens is the muggles floating off into the distance with cat ears and bubbles!
He screams again!
He is pushed and hits the ground, landing in horse feces. He loses his wand from his grasp. His safety!
Someone pulls him up by his arm, putting him back on equal footing.
“Thank you, for that, I will not kill y-“
The muggles start talking loudly, voices drowned out by animal screeching. They manhandle him!
They drag him away by his heels, kicking and screaming.
“I found our missing act!”
They take him inside a tent, he is being tainted! They paint his face and tell him he is late! How dare they, such filth, touch the great Dark Lord?!
“Your face is perfect, someone made a work of art here.”
He pauses. “Truly?” The circus worker nods.
It’s not unusual for him to be seen as perfect. After all, he is.
He sticks around a bit longer, listening to their praises.
—
Hedwig awakens to a neon cape attached around her neck.
She drearily looks over, seeing Tom Riddle in a clown costume, a balloon taped to his hand.
Seeing as she must be dreaming, she closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.