Hogwarts Overexposed Chapter 4
The previous chapter ended with an outburst of disembodied dialogue claiming that something or someone unknown was attacking "those girls", who could have been the main cast but could just as easily have been random bystanders. Now for the "resolution". Yes, it's bad.
The screaming had caused an alarm. People were yelling and running in every direction. Some courageous souls ran toward the girls to assist them, but most were frantically leaving the area, possessions forgotten, in order to seek shelter within the ship.
It's the minions of the Great One!
The owls had initially gone unobserved as they drew near the ship and circled it predatorily, looking for the recipients of the mail they carried. When they dived as one toward the pool, however, with their wings extended to their full width, they were unquestionably noticed.
Or just the post. That was worthy of a cliffhanger, I don't think.
Owls have a rather creepy appearance to them, but when you’re not accustomed to seeing them and then are suddenly faced with four at once, presumably attacking, they can be down right scary.
Especially when the author goes out of his way to misrepresent the situation. Let's revisit John Finnemore's rules, specifically three and four:
3. The cliffhanger has to be an emotional one, or at least a direct dilemma for a central character or characters, not a physical or external one. The question left unanswered must always be 'What will he or she do now?' not 'What will happen to him or her now?' To take an example completely at random, a bad cliff-hanger would be 'The hero's been forced to jump off a roof! Will he survive?', but a good cliff-hanger is 'He DID survive! But how? And why's he hiding from his friend?'
And most importantly of all:
4. A cliff-hanger is a promise to the audience. It's implicitly saying 'I'm withholding the gratification of giving you the answer now, but trust me, when you get it, you'll think it was worth the wait.'
With regard to 3, it's entirely external. There's no conflict here, no big "what will they do?" to tie the scene to the characters. A good cliffhanger on this basis would have been to have the ship boarded by presumed enemies, and then the last line reveal that the squad was led by someone Hermione considered a friend. (Or at least a non-enemy: let's say Draco, for the sake of argument.) How will she take it? And is Draco really betraying her, or just acting as a double agent? And how, considering that we'd probably end up getting his POV as well, does he feel about the situation?
As for 4, you've set us up a huge dramatic scene and had it turn out to be the fucking post. Imagine reading this, waiting nineteen days (going by the timestamps on the Yahoo files) to see what kind of danger they were in this time and how they'd get out of it, and being greeted with "haha, it's actually the post". Though it serves you right for reading Hogwarts Exposed.
In fact, the biggest question I have is why the hell didn't their correspondents, knowing they were among Muggles, arrange for their post to be delivered to their cabins in the evening? Or send it by email on the wizard net that allegedly exists in the universe of this fic but nobody's ever been shown using? Or borrow the stealth owls from Paradigm of Uncertainty? Not only is this a terrible resolution to a cliffhanger, it doesn't even make sense by in-universe logic.
“We’re fine,” shouted Caitlin, “but I doubt those owls will be in a rush to delivery anymore letters.”
“The poor things. They were just doing their jobs,” Kim said.
“The owls will be all right,” Emily said. “At this minute, I’m more concerned about us.”
Emily had good reason to be fretful, for at that moment, three ship employees with ominous expressions on their faces were headed in the group’s direction.
We cut to after Harry gets a dressing-down from the captain and inexplicably doesn't Obliviate him.
“How did it go?” Hermione asked when Harry returned from speaking with the ship’s captain.
“Not good at all,” Harry replied, shaking his head in embarrassed frustration. “It would seem that cruise ship captains have an extremely low tolerance for passengers that cause a panic on their ships. I was given a reprimand and advised that if one more owl descends on this ship, we will be set ashore at the next port.”
Why we couldn't have been shown this directly I don't know.
“He’s blaming you?” Hermione asked.
“Damn, I felt like I was back at Hogwarts and McGonagall was scolding me,” Harry said. “I had no idea what to tell the man. He was already incensed. Had I told him the owls were delivering letters from a school, he would have thought I was playing him for a fool.”
“So what did you tell him?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry incredulously.
“I told him that I was an ornithologist and that I had a government grant to study the feasibility of owls delivering mail.”
“Did he actually believe that?” Hermione asked skeptically. “Didn’t he ask questions?”
“In point of fact, it caused him to launch into a tirade on how government wastes money,” Harry said. “I think he was more upset about the funding than the owls landing on his ship. Bottom line is that he thinks I’m some weird nerdy professor.”
What would have worked better here is if Harry had used Legilimency or something similar to find out what kind of excuse would best work on the captain, rather than just stumble upon one that resonated with his worldview by pure accident.
Hermione gave Harry a hug. “At least you were able to avoid the truth,” she said nervously. “I just violated the International Confederation of Wizards’ Statute of Secrecy.”
“You did what?” Harry asked, not believing his ears.
Yes, it's so unheard of that anyone would do that in this fic.
Hermione explained all about the conversation she had with Michelle. “She knew we were different,” Hermione clarified. “I was trying to think of a reasonable way to explain my way out of it when the owls arrived.”
Harry nodded his head. “I guess that was what they sometimes refer to as the ‘icing on the cake’.”
Giving "the cake is a lie" a whole new meaning.
“It was either the truth or say that we are from another solar system,” Hermione noted. “I hoped she would be more inclined to accept us if at least we were from her planet.”
“We’re certainly doing a first rate job of blending in with the Muggles, aren’t we?” Harry asked sarcastically. “How did she react to the news?”
“At first she just looked at me disbelievingly,” Hermione explained. “Michelle had figured out that we were different, but I don’t suppose she was ready to accept for fact that witches and wizards actually existed.”
She could probably have explained away her implausible and non-canonical physical perfection by saying she'd had some kind of surgery, but (contrived coincidences yay!) the owls arrived at exactly the wrong time.
“I can understand her skepticism,” Harry said. “Did she ask you to prove it?”
“She was about to, I believe, but relented when I showed her my wand. Actually I don’t think it was seeing the wand as much as my producing it out of its invisible sheath that convinced her that I was being truthful,” Hermione said.
Except Hermione doesn't have an invisible wand sheath. The only invisible wand sheath in the fic is the one that Ollivander gave Jamie in Too Exposed Chapter 22, though I can understand if you don't want to remember that chapter. She might as well have pulled the wand out of her arse.
“The Zacherleys evidently were much more competent at pretending to be Muggles than us. Michelle never once thought there was anything peculiar about them.
I wonder if that had anything to do with the fact that they'd had their magical powers sapped by HE!Voldemort's fiendish experiments?
I’m sure she’ll have far more questions when I see her after lunch. Harry, should I have lied to her?”
“That was probably one of those situations where a lie would have been more damaging than the truth. She is certainly not the first Muggle to know of the existence of our world, nor will she be the last. Do you trust her to keep it a secret?” Harry asked.
Since when the fuck did Hermione need Harry's advice on matters of magical law? If anything, she should be trying to reassure him that it's okay!
“Then I don’t see that any harm has been done. Did you ever find out what those bloody owls were delivering?” Harry inquired.
“Just the girls’ school book lists,” Hermione answered. “Oh and Jamie received notification that she will be Head Girl.”
“Not much of a surprise there,” Harry said proudly. “I don’t see that there was much of a competition. I assume Alex got picked as Head Boy?”
I like how Jamie becoming Head Girl is so much of an anticlimax that even the characters themselves acknowledge it.
“Yes!” Hermione answered, beaming. “Jamie is thrilled.”
They do realise that the Head Boy and Girl don't get their own private shag pad quarters, right? Even in Hogwarts Exposed?
“Looks like a certain professor is rather pleased too,” Harry pointed out.
“I am,” Hermione responded. “Oh Harry! They remind me so much of us. I’m happy the two of them realized they were meant for each other now and didn’t waste precious years as we did.”
Or, you know, they could grow up and drift apart. It happens. I don't know where the author got the idea of the Head Boy/Girl thing meaning that they're fucking soulmates - it's just a school thing that's going to be nothing more than résumé fodder this time next year. Unless Jamie is going to have to defeat a secret cabal of her fellow former Head Girls in a kung fu battle somewhere along the line.
“I agree,” Harry said nodding his head. “I don’t know how I managed to endure five years without you.” “Me either, without you,” Hermione said, a devilish look in her eye. “Sam’s watching Ben so we could have a quiet lunch and the girls could go off with their friends. We can get a slice of pizza later. What would you say to skipping lunch and having a little dessert?”
“Have you ever known me to turn down my favorite dessert?” Harry asked.
The treacle tart from the Hogwarts feast.
“I pray I’m always your favorite.”
Of course not. Hogwarts Exposed, where everyone's lives are ruled by the contents of their pants. Assuming they've got any on.
Day Four, Thursday, August 11, 2005, St. Thomas
Which is also apparently located on the FPODD.
“Let’s ask her to join us,” Kim said. “She’s been sitting there alone for over an hour and looks truly bored and depressed.”
“Have you forgotten whose niece she is?” Emily asked.
“If I recall correctly, you were dating Dick Bancroft’s brother last year,” Caitlin said. “I thought you believed in judging the individual, not their family tree.”
“I do, but that was hardly a good example,” Emily retorted. “We all know that came to a disastrous end.”
I know Google Image Search was a lot more limited when this was written, but surely the brochure the author lifted the itinerary from would have had some photos he could use as a reference if nothing else. You're not selling the holiday of a lifetime when there's no description to distinguish a sun-drenched Caribbean beach from a wet weekend in Blackpool.
“Are you sure it’s over?” Kim inquired.
Unfortunately not: this is only the fourth chapter.
“Its over!” Emily replied, louder than necessary. “I don’t have time for little untrusting boys when there are committing men available.”
I thought the problem with Tyler was that Emily couldn't trust him rather than that he didn't trust her.
“Please tell me that you’re not referring to that git, Roger,” Caitlin appealed.
Because "git" is the word you use for someone you suspect of being a paedophile.
“You’re just jealous,” Emily replied.
Yes, every kid wants a creepy would-be molester sniffing around after them.
“Yeah! Right!” Caitlin answered. “Look, I don’t want to argue about it. Let’s just drop the subject. Do we want to be decent and ask Angel to join us or just walk by and kick sand in her face?”
You don't want to be doing that. It'll end with her taking up bodybuilding and beating you up. Elsewhere on the FPODD:
“And just exactly what is so funny about me being buried in the sand?” Jim asked.
“Its more what’s not buried that’s funny,” Sam said, trying to suppress her giggles.
Funny if her sense of humour is ten years behind her actual age, anyway.
Jim had allowed himself to be buried by the all too eager Timmy and Lynn. He and Sam had initially helped the youngsters dig a trench and then Jim had grudgingly agreed to lie in it and be covered with sand. Lynn and Timmy were now busily building ramps so that they could drive their toy cars up and over the completely helpless man.
“Is my face that funny?” he asked, not understanding what exactly Sam found so hysterical.
“It’s not your face,” Sam said, slightly embarrassed. “For some reason the kids decided to leave your privates uncovered.
I'd normally ask why it would occur to a pair of toddlers to do this, but even leaving aside the devil child thing, look at what Timmy's got for role models.
And before you get offended, that’s not what I’m laughing at either. It’s just... I was thinking what I would do to my husband if I ever found him in such a compromising position.”
Jim made a mistake, a colossal mistake that male nudists must never make.
He decided to cook some bacon.
He began to imagine himself being tortured in the way he imagined Sam meant she would torment Ron. His thoughts caused an immediate and extremely noticeable reaction.
His latent magical powers awakened and he turned everyone in the vicinity into frogs. In the confusion, he was able to work himself free and rearrange himself to spare his blushes.
Timmy and Lynn were occupied building their highway and didn’t notice Jim’s dilemma, but fortunately Sam had because Jamie and her friends had picked that very moment to approach them. Without a word, Sam picked up one of the empty pails that the children had tossed aside and inverted it over Jim’s quite noticeable erection.
The key to doing visual comedy in text is that the humour comes from how something is described, not what's being described. This author's narrative voice is as dull as dishwater and he's no good at description, so he's out on both counts. Especially since this routine is recycled from the bit where Harry throws a hat over the evil doctor/rapist's dick back in Too Exposed.
“Thanks,” said a scarlet-faced Jim seconds before the girls arrived.
Besides Chantal and Felicite, Felicite’s younger sister Monica also accompanied Jamie.
None of them seem to have any kind of personality whatsoever. We don't even know anything about them beyond the fact that they're nudists and French.
“Sam, have you seen Kim and my sisters?” Jamie asked.
“Not for about an hour,” Sam responded. “They were standing just over there talking to a girl about their age; then the four of them ran off toward the water.”
This is the first indication we've had that an hour has passed since the girls went over to talk to Angel.
“Thanks,” Jamie said politely as the group started to leave. Then she turned back and gave Sam a smile. “That’s a unique use for a sand pail.”
I thought nudists didn't notice things like that. For that matter, I thought Jamie herself had told us that nudists didn't notice things like that.
Jim turned an even brighter red, but said nothing until the girls were out of earshot. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he said apologetically. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I’ve been a naturist since I was ten, but never had that problem before.”
Our characters are so super-special awesome that they can, uh, "frustrate" a lifelong nudist!
“It’s really no big deal,” Sam said, and then thought about her choice of words.
Which is more than can be said for the author.
“I wish the four of us were able to do more things together,” Jim said truthfully.
“So do I,” Sam said sadly as Jim was finally able to sit up, “but I’m happy that Ron at least has Bonnie to keep him company and occupied. It must be strange being the only clothed person among all these naked bodies.”
Jim gazed about the beach. With the exception of the vendors, everyone else was indeed nude.
So nobody else on the entire cruise has a friend or relative with them who's okay being around naked people but isn't ready to go all the way themselves? I don't buy it.
He stared at Sam, trying to build up his courage. Finally he said, “Perhaps the four of us could get together one evening for some adult type entertainment before the cruise comes to an end.”
Sam hesitated for a moment. Ron had expressed a desire to visit the ship’s casino, but she hadn’t really been interested and neither had Harry or Hermione. She felt extremely guilty that Ron and she had been spending so little time together. This would be a perfect opportunity to be with both Ron and their new friends.
The POV is doing its usual thing here. And it's also insultingly obvious that Jim doesn't mean the casino when he's talking about "adult-type entertainment". I'm surprised Sam's mind doesn't go there, considering that she's got as much of a one-track mind as anyone else in this fic.
“I can’t believe Harry actually talked Lloyd into trying that.” Michelle said. “We’ve been to numerous places where they offered parasailing before, and he’s never shown the least interest.”
“Harry has a way of getting people to do things with him that they’d never consider doing on their own,” Hermione said, as she watched Harry and Lloyd being strapped into their harnesses.
Does he? I thought she'd convinced him that the nudist thing was the way to go.
“What I don’t understand is why you keep yourselves secret?” Michelle questioned. “You’d be revered and treated like celebrities.”
“More likely we’d be feared and mistrusted,” Hermione retorted. “Some would try to force us to use our powers for their benefit, while others would probe and examine us, trying to learn how we became different.”
Michelle thought for a few moments, as the smile slowly faded from her face. “You’re right to remain hidden within your own world. Knowledge of your existence would cause a panic. Instead of seeing your kind as a blessing, most would consider you a threat and try to exterminate you.”
Did you really think I could resist that?
“Most, but not you?” Hermione asked, raising her eyes.
“No! I’ve gotten to know you personally. You’re good people,” she said emphatically. “But I do want to hear more. If you don’t normally use our type of transportation, how did you get to Fort Lauderdale?”
Hermione explained Apparating and Portkey’s and told Michelle about the girls’ adventure in Fort Lauderdale.
What a delightful story to share with your friend: "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time we met a rape gang who kidnapped our kids?" Is she going to talk about how Hooch assaulted Caitlin and left her for dead next, or maybe about how she got her nipple eaten and needed her boss to fondle her better, or how she got kidnapped and tortured?
It seemed that each answer Hermione afforded Michelle initiated a new question.
Hermione watched nervously as Harry sailed out to sea; happy for the distraction the questioning yielded. She much preferred Harry flying on a broom that he controlled.
I'm sure Harry could control the parasail by magic if something went wrong, because it's not like anyone actually seems to care about the Statute of Secrecy in Hogwarts Exposed even though they've just remembered it existed.
Hermione thought for a moment on her own Muggle heritage, particularly on both her parents being Muggle dentists and her introduction to the magical world occurring when she received her Hogwarts letter the summer before her eleventh birthday. Now as she talked with Michelle, she thought about how different the magical world was from the one into which she had been born.
“Then centaurs actually exist and unicorns, too,” Michelle said in amazement, interrupting Hermione’s reflection. “Unicorns are so beautiful. I’d love to see and brush one.”
“They are beautiful and pure; unfortunately they will only accept the touch of a virgin,” Hermione informed Michelle. “Jamie’s Animagus form is a unicorn.”
“Jamie’s what?” Michelle questioned.
“Some witches and wizards have the ability to transform into an animal. It is a rare ability among magical folk, mainly because it takes lengthy painful training.”
“I assume you and Harry have the ability,” Michelle said with a laugh.
She's got the measure of how cheesy this fic is.
Hermione nodded her head yes. “Harry can transform into a Golden Griffin, and I can become a wolf.”
“A Golden Griffin?” Michelle questioned. “Isn’t that a winged lion? But they don’t exist?”
No, and there's no way you should know about them: they originate from the Psychic Serpent fics, and don't appear in Muggle folklore at all.
Hermione only smiled.
“You mean Harry can actually fly?” Michelle inquired.
Which makes Hermione's fear of him flying look even more irrational, by the way.
“Yes. One of my worst memories is flying on his back. I’m not sure which was worse; that or flying on a hippogriff,” Hermione answered.
I thought the hippogriff ride was supposed to symbolise the pure Harmonian love.
“A hippogriff?” Michelle questioned. “Never mind! I don’t even want to know.”
So she's heard of a golden griffin (as opposed to the regular kind - for those of you who've not read Psychic Serpent, it's a lion with wings but without an eagle's head and is the griffin d'or that Godric was named after) but not a hippogriff, which actually does exist in Muggle folklore. Yay consistency! Back on the ship:
“That was refreshing,” Bonnie said, as she got out of the pool. “I wish you had been able to join me.”
“Yeah,” Ron said forlornly. “I feel like I’ve been... what’s the phrase you Americans use? ‘A wet blanket’?”
Uh, we also say "wet blanket". For instance, when talking about Hermione as portrayed in this fic.
“Ron, you’re not a wet blanket. You’re a lot of fun,” Bonnie proclaimed. “Not everyone is comfortable enough with their body to go au naturel. Your shyness is one of the things I find appealing. Do we have time for another game of chess before lunch?”
She finds him appealing? Oh, just screw already.
“I wish we did, but we should be departing soon to avoid being late. As it is, I feel guilty spending so much time away from Sam and Timmy,” Ron said, shamefaced.
"We should be departing soon." - Ronald Weasley.
“We’ve been looking for you guys everywhere,” Jamie shouted as she ran up to Emily.
“Evidently in all the wrong places,” Emily responded in jest. “What did you want us for?
“The recreation director just posted a notice; there is going to be a talent contest the last evening of the cruise. I thought you might be interested,” Jamie suggested.
A talent contest, eh? The author should have got HTG to co-write this bit.
“When you say talent, I assume you mean singing, dancing or playing some sort of instrument,” Caitlin said. “That most certainly leaves me out.”
“I only have a talent for getting into trouble,” Emily said with a laugh. “What about you Angel?”
“I might give it a try,” she answered. “It might be fun.”
“Kim, you have a great voice,” Emily stated. “Why don’t you enter?”
“Me?” Kim said. “I only sing in the shower. Besides I could never get up on a stage like this.” She indicated her lack of clothing. “I’d die of embarrassment.”
This is the first we hear of her singing in the shower. Though looking back through the archive, characters in Hogwarts Exposed do seem to spend far longer in the shower than anyone ever does in canon.
“Here comes your aunt,” Caitlin said to Angel, interrupting the conversation about the talent show.
Really? I'd never have guessed that saying something in the middle of a conversation about the talent show would interrupt it. What would I do without the author to tell me these things?
“What are you doing hanging about with this rabble,” Roz shouted nastily. “I thought I told you to stay away from their type.”
“Good morning Roz,” Jamie said pleasantly. “I’m glad to see that the cruise is having a pleasant calming effect on your temperament.”
“Never you mind me!” Roz bellowed. “I want you and your low life family and friends to stay away from my niece. My brother has spent too much money sending her to the best English finishing schools to have all their efforts negated by associating with the likes of you.”
If she's Kim and Emily's age, she's far too young for finishing school: as its name suggests, upper-class girls and young women attend finishing school towards the end of their education, to prepare themselves to enter high society. But I'm left with a question: if Rosalind's family are upper class, then what's with Rosalind herself? I get that she might not care what the lower orders think of her, like I said about Draco in the previous chapter. But running around with no regard for her appearance, acting like a thug and getting drunk in public (like she did at Cap d'Agde in the last fic) would reflect poorly on her from the POV of her fellow toffs as well. Either have her care about her social standing or behave the way she's been established to behave; you can't have it both ways. She can still be nasty, just in a more subtle and manipulative way.
“Gather your belongings,” Roz ordered. “Your mother wants to see you immediately.” Roz grabbed Angel by the arm and dragged her off without another word. Angel looked back, giving what appeared to be a helpless ‘I’m sorry’ expression.
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d get the impression that Roz doesn’t like us,” Emily said straight faced. Everyone laughed.
Hilarious. My sides ache. Back on the ship:
“We’re different people, from different backgrounds,” Bonnie explained. “You’re shy and I’m a bit of an exhibitionist. Plus you must remember that I rarely ever wear clothes. What is an earth shattering experience to you is my everyday lifestyle.”
“Want to hear something silly?” Bonnie asked, actually blushing. “A part of me hopes you never take your clothes off; I’d miss the mystique. Of course, another part, the bad part, wants to see you nude. Preferably with a hard-on.”
The author's learned a new word for an erection!
“Are you purposely trying to give me one?” Ron questioned. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Bonnie seemed to ignore Ron’s comment as she started into what almost seemed like a rehearsed speech.
So exactly like all the dialogue in this fic.
“Jim and I were talking about you and Sam last night before we went to bed. We were both hoping to meet a special couple on this cruise, a couple we could swap good times with, and we think you and Sam are perfect. Its fun playing chess with you,” she continued, “I hope we can do it for the remainder of the cruise. Jim and I have also both enjoyed the times we’ve spent with the children.”
Bonnie took a deep breath, which had an amazing affect on her breasts.
So amazing that it's never actually described.
“Ron, Jim and I were wondering if you and Sam would consider getting together with us for a little adult type recreation before the cruise ends.”
This conversation is almost a direct copy-paste of the Sam/Jim conversation from earlier, right down to the "adult-type" qualifier.
Finally, Ron thought to himself, someone who wants to spend some time in the casino.
The "they think they're talking about the casino but it's actually sex lel" routine really isn't any funnier the second time round. And considering that almost all of Ron's personality has been overwritten by his non-canon werewolf sex drive, it makes even less sense for him not to realise what she's talking about.
“You can’t possibly imagine how much I’d like to do that,” Ron said enthusiastically. “I’ve been trying to talk Harry and Hermione into it ever since we left port, but for some reason they think its wrong. I told them we didn’t have to do it the entire night, just a quick in and out to see whether we liked it or not, but they outright refused.”
It's funny because this description can also refer to shagging! Now it's time to check in on Ginny and Draco back at Hogwarts, or wherever the hell they are because I don't think it was ever made clear.
“What was all the racket? Draco asked as he entered the room, still toweling himself off from his shower.
“We received an owl,” Ginny exclaimed. “Well, not really an owl; it was some sort of large, colorful tropical bird. It could only just get through the window and then it was very impatient and not the least cooperative.”
“Is it from Harry and Hermione or your brother,” Draco asked indifferently.
“Actually it’s from Sam,” Ginny answered as she read the parchment. “Oh My! The trip got off to a frightening start. A street gang upon arrival accosted the girls, but everyone is okay.
"Got attacked by a gang of perverts. Having a lovely time. Wish you were here."
Sam says the accommodations are beautiful and the food is terrific. Ron hasn’t taken his clothes off yet, but they’ve made friends with a nice couple. The wife plays chess. Sam says that the only time my brother doesn’t have a stiffy is when he’s playing chess with Bonnie.”
I, just, what? I can't decide who's worse: Sam, for telling Ginny all about her brother's penis (in a letter that can be intercepted!) or Ginny, for relaying the information to Draco of all people. And apparently the author's new-found vocabulary didn't last, because we're back to theoretically mature adults talking about stiffies again.
“She must be quite the hag,” Draco remarked. “I thought the idea was for the female of the species to arouse the male into having an erection, not to cause him to go placid.”
Are you kidding? If Draco got told all about Ron's boners (from Ginny, no less) he'd think Christmas had come early. Not be like "oh, right" before launching into a vaguely sexist aside.
“Do you mean like this?” Ginny said, as she walked over to Draco and placed her hand on his leg. Then she ever so softly ran her hand up his leg until she was holding his manhood. His member immediately sprang to attention.
The honourable member for Hogsmeade West.
“Now that you have my attention, what do you intend to do about it?” Draco asked.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” Ginny responded, wetting her lips with her tongue and then dropping to her knees in front of Draco.
And cut. Not a moment too soon.
Day Five, Friday, August 12, 2005, St. Kitts
“Today we are anchored at the beautiful island St. Kitts,” the voice echoing from the public address system announced. “Here you will have the opportunity to enjoy the type of lush tropical paradise usually only associated with islands in the South Pacific.
“The atmosphere here is palpably luxuriant, an intoxicating blend of sunlight, sea air and fantastically abundant vegetation. At the center of St. Kitts stands the spectacular, cloud-fringed peak of Mount Liamuiga, a dormant volcano covered by dense tropical forest filled with elusive green vervet monkeys and brilliant tropical flowers. For eco-tourists, or simply anyone who enjoys stunning natural beauty, St. Kitts cannot fail to exceed expectations.
Yes, it's dialogue, and yes, it's probably copy-pasted from a tourist brochure. This is still the most description we've had of a location the whole time they've been on the cruise. Savour it.
“We remind you that St. Kitts does not allow public nudity. Therefore, please dress appropriately before disembarking the ship.”
Plot twist!
“The island does look beautiful,” Emily admitted. “It might be fun hiking through the forest and I know just what I can wear.” Emily suddenly had a devilish expression on her face.
“Emily,” Caitlin whispered. “I don’t like that look on your face.”
“Neither do I,” said Kim. “Please tell me that you disposed of that floral sun dress of yours.”
Emily smiled broadly.
“You can’t wear that,” Caitlin admonished. “Have you forgotten what happened the last time?”
“Last time I was in the Great Hall.
"And wasn't wearing robes for some reason!"
Caitlin quickly slipped on a skirt and mini top, then rushed next door to Emily and Kim’s room, where Kim was just finishing tucking her blouse into her skirt. Meanwhile, Emily, who also had already dressed, was adjusting her rucksack. Caitlin was delightfully surprised to see that Emily was wearing a skirt and top and not her infamous sundress.
“How did you talk her into not wearing the dress from Hell?” Caitlin asked Kim.
“I didn’t,” Kim answered. “One look in the mirror and she decided to face reality.”
“I must have grown two inches this summer,” Emily said, shaking her head in astonishment. “My whole twat showed. I’m a nudist, not an exhibitionist.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that,” Caitlin said with a laugh.
Dammit, Caitlin, I'm the sporker here. Anyway, they go ashore.
They had walked only about one hundred yards when they realized that the beach was already hidden from view. “When they say dense, they really mean it,” Kim commented. “It must be hard to maintain these paths.”
“Most people are lazy and ride four-by-fours on the old dirt plantation roads, ” Jeff said. “I bet we’ll be the only ones to use this path all day.”
“If that’s the case, why are we still wearing these horrible garments?” Brian questioned.
“Finally someone who thinks like me,” Emily said, smiling as she struggled to get the rucksack off her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” Kim inquired, skittishly.
“The same thing as Brian,” Emily replied. “We’re going to take off our clothes and enjoy this hike.”
“But the announcement this morning said that St. Kitts didn’t allow public nudity,” Kim reminded them.
And even if they did, you're in a tropical rainforest. Hello, insects, snakes, spiders, spiky and poisonous plants?
The group, despite stopping numerous times to admire flowers and other tropical vegetation, made excellent time reaching the base of Mount Liamuiga, where they picnicked on the beverages and snacks that Emily had thoughtfully packed.
“That was fun,” Kim acknowledged as she finished off a second beverage.
I like how these "beverages" are never identified, much less described. I just picture a plain can with "BEVERAGE" printed on the side in Arial or something.
“Although I doubt I’ll ever be as zealous a nudist as the group of you, I have to agree this was certainly fun and harmed no one.”
“That’s my argument with current laws,” Emily declared. “In a free world, people should be allowed to do as they please as long as it doesn’t infringe on the rights of others. I don’t understand how my being nude encroaches on someone else’s rights.”
I've said this before, but would you like to sit on a train seat that's had someone else's bare arse on it for the past four hours? Anyway, back to Hermione. Not content with telling Michelle that she's a witch, she's apparently telling her:
“You still have no recollection of what happened during the time you were kidnapped?” Michelle asked
... all about the evil plot to resurrect Salazar Slytherin, do something or other and profit. Thereby putting an innocent, helpless Muggle and her family in danger if the "Great One" ever finds out. Nice work. And yes, she has indeed told her about the time she got kidnapped and tortured.
Hermione shook her head no in response to the question.
As opposed to nodding her head yes, of course.
She had just finished telling Michelle about how Jamie and Alex had saved her from a sure death after she had been abducted “I sometimes have horrible dreams having to do with that time, but have no way of distinguishing whether the scenes contained in the those dreams are factual memories or just my imagination at work,” Hermione responded.
“When you initially told me that you and Harry were a witch and wizard, I was extremely envious,” Michelle said. “But now after hearing all that you’ve both been through, I think I’ll stick with being a plain old Muggle nurse.”
Hermione's approach to making her realise she's better off as a Muggle apparently being to scare her half to death and put her in the firing line.
“I’d like to think so,” Hermione said, hopefully “It seems incredible that anyone would be anserine enough to try an resurrect someone as vile and evil as Salazar Slytherin.”
Resurrecting long-dead dark lords is "anserine", apparently. I can only assume the author meant asinine, which is something I'd associate less with putting the future of the world in peril and more with hiking through the jungle with no clothes on. ETA: It's a word, apparently, and means "relating to a goose" and can be used metaphorically to mean a fool. The more you know, but I'm not sure even Hermione does. And it still doesn't fit: "Oh, you resurrected Slytherin, you foolish goose!"
Michelle let this statement settle as she thought about the prophecy Hermione had recited to her.
We get the wonky prophecy reiterated, complete with the line about Slytherin and (unspecified) evil being "joined", which considering what "joining" apparently means in prophecy-speak... I have to say that the Great One humping the thousand-year-old corpse of Salazar Slytherin wouldn't even be in the top ten most disturbing things in this fic.
“Hold up a minute will you,” Emily said, as the group made there way back the path.
Without out any further explanation, she stepped just off the path and squatted.
Everyone seemed transfixed as they watched. Only Kim seemed able to verbalize. “Emily, what in the world are you doing?” she asked, taken aback.
“I would think that was fairly obvious,” Emily answered, still crouched.
Stop sporking the fic for me! Why's everyone so surprised that she goes to the toilet? I know people in fiction generally don't, but this is Hogwarts Exposed.
Only Kim, who had drank more than any of the others, refused to relieve herself and insisted that she didn’t need to go when, in fact, she felt like her bladder was about to burst. She was determined that somehow she would hold it.
And I wonder where this could possibly be going.
Suddenly, Brian came to an abrupt halt. “We’re back at the beach already,” he said in surprise.
“Wonderful,” exclaimed Kim. She knew where her first stop would be.
“Not a soul saw us,” Emily proclaimed happily. “I knew we’d get away with it.”
“That’s where you are wrong,” said a livid voice. “You’re all under arrest for indecent exposure.”
Yeah, that's totally what'd happen if the police found kids wandering around sans clothes. Bullshit! They'd make them get dressed and have a few choice words with their parents. Unless, of course, they just happened to find the one policeman on the island who's a pervert who wants to have his own way with them. And what are the odds of that?
The screaming had caused an alarm. People were yelling and running in every direction. Some courageous souls ran toward the girls to assist them, but most were frantically leaving the area, possessions forgotten, in order to seek shelter within the ship.
It's the minions of the Great One!
The owls had initially gone unobserved as they drew near the ship and circled it predatorily, looking for the recipients of the mail they carried. When they dived as one toward the pool, however, with their wings extended to their full width, they were unquestionably noticed.
Or just the post. That was worthy of a cliffhanger, I don't think.
Owls have a rather creepy appearance to them, but when you’re not accustomed to seeing them and then are suddenly faced with four at once, presumably attacking, they can be down right scary.
Especially when the author goes out of his way to misrepresent the situation. Let's revisit John Finnemore's rules, specifically three and four:
3. The cliffhanger has to be an emotional one, or at least a direct dilemma for a central character or characters, not a physical or external one. The question left unanswered must always be 'What will he or she do now?' not 'What will happen to him or her now?' To take an example completely at random, a bad cliff-hanger would be 'The hero's been forced to jump off a roof! Will he survive?', but a good cliff-hanger is 'He DID survive! But how? And why's he hiding from his friend?'
And most importantly of all:
4. A cliff-hanger is a promise to the audience. It's implicitly saying 'I'm withholding the gratification of giving you the answer now, but trust me, when you get it, you'll think it was worth the wait.'
With regard to 3, it's entirely external. There's no conflict here, no big "what will they do?" to tie the scene to the characters. A good cliffhanger on this basis would have been to have the ship boarded by presumed enemies, and then the last line reveal that the squad was led by someone Hermione considered a friend. (Or at least a non-enemy: let's say Draco, for the sake of argument.) How will she take it? And is Draco really betraying her, or just acting as a double agent? And how, considering that we'd probably end up getting his POV as well, does he feel about the situation?
As for 4, you've set us up a huge dramatic scene and had it turn out to be the fucking post. Imagine reading this, waiting nineteen days (going by the timestamps on the Yahoo files) to see what kind of danger they were in this time and how they'd get out of it, and being greeted with "haha, it's actually the post". Though it serves you right for reading Hogwarts Exposed.
In fact, the biggest question I have is why the hell didn't their correspondents, knowing they were among Muggles, arrange for their post to be delivered to their cabins in the evening? Or send it by email on the wizard net that allegedly exists in the universe of this fic but nobody's ever been shown using? Or borrow the stealth owls from Paradigm of Uncertainty? Not only is this a terrible resolution to a cliffhanger, it doesn't even make sense by in-universe logic.
“We’re fine,” shouted Caitlin, “but I doubt those owls will be in a rush to delivery anymore letters.”
“The poor things. They were just doing their jobs,” Kim said.
“The owls will be all right,” Emily said. “At this minute, I’m more concerned about us.”
Emily had good reason to be fretful, for at that moment, three ship employees with ominous expressions on their faces were headed in the group’s direction.
Click to viewWe cut to after Harry gets a dressing-down from the captain and inexplicably doesn't Obliviate him.
“How did it go?” Hermione asked when Harry returned from speaking with the ship’s captain.
“Not good at all,” Harry replied, shaking his head in embarrassed frustration. “It would seem that cruise ship captains have an extremely low tolerance for passengers that cause a panic on their ships. I was given a reprimand and advised that if one more owl descends on this ship, we will be set ashore at the next port.”
Why we couldn't have been shown this directly I don't know.
“He’s blaming you?” Hermione asked.
“Damn, I felt like I was back at Hogwarts and McGonagall was scolding me,” Harry said. “I had no idea what to tell the man. He was already incensed. Had I told him the owls were delivering letters from a school, he would have thought I was playing him for a fool.”
“So what did you tell him?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry incredulously.
“I told him that I was an ornithologist and that I had a government grant to study the feasibility of owls delivering mail.”
“Did he actually believe that?” Hermione asked skeptically. “Didn’t he ask questions?”
“In point of fact, it caused him to launch into a tirade on how government wastes money,” Harry said. “I think he was more upset about the funding than the owls landing on his ship. Bottom line is that he thinks I’m some weird nerdy professor.”
What would have worked better here is if Harry had used Legilimency or something similar to find out what kind of excuse would best work on the captain, rather than just stumble upon one that resonated with his worldview by pure accident.
Hermione gave Harry a hug. “At least you were able to avoid the truth,” she said nervously. “I just violated the International Confederation of Wizards’ Statute of Secrecy.”
“You did what?” Harry asked, not believing his ears.
Yes, it's so unheard of that anyone would do that in this fic.
Hermione explained all about the conversation she had with Michelle. “She knew we were different,” Hermione clarified. “I was trying to think of a reasonable way to explain my way out of it when the owls arrived.”
Harry nodded his head. “I guess that was what they sometimes refer to as the ‘icing on the cake’.”
Giving "the cake is a lie" a whole new meaning.
“It was either the truth or say that we are from another solar system,” Hermione noted. “I hoped she would be more inclined to accept us if at least we were from her planet.”
“We’re certainly doing a first rate job of blending in with the Muggles, aren’t we?” Harry asked sarcastically. “How did she react to the news?”
“At first she just looked at me disbelievingly,” Hermione explained. “Michelle had figured out that we were different, but I don’t suppose she was ready to accept for fact that witches and wizards actually existed.”
She could probably have explained away her implausible and non-canonical physical perfection by saying she'd had some kind of surgery, but (contrived coincidences yay!) the owls arrived at exactly the wrong time.
“I can understand her skepticism,” Harry said. “Did she ask you to prove it?”
“She was about to, I believe, but relented when I showed her my wand. Actually I don’t think it was seeing the wand as much as my producing it out of its invisible sheath that convinced her that I was being truthful,” Hermione said.
Except Hermione doesn't have an invisible wand sheath. The only invisible wand sheath in the fic is the one that Ollivander gave Jamie in Too Exposed Chapter 22, though I can understand if you don't want to remember that chapter. She might as well have pulled the wand out of her arse.
“The Zacherleys evidently were much more competent at pretending to be Muggles than us. Michelle never once thought there was anything peculiar about them.
I wonder if that had anything to do with the fact that they'd had their magical powers sapped by HE!Voldemort's fiendish experiments?
I’m sure she’ll have far more questions when I see her after lunch. Harry, should I have lied to her?”
“That was probably one of those situations where a lie would have been more damaging than the truth. She is certainly not the first Muggle to know of the existence of our world, nor will she be the last. Do you trust her to keep it a secret?” Harry asked.
Since when the fuck did Hermione need Harry's advice on matters of magical law? If anything, she should be trying to reassure him that it's okay!
“Then I don’t see that any harm has been done. Did you ever find out what those bloody owls were delivering?” Harry inquired.
“Just the girls’ school book lists,” Hermione answered. “Oh and Jamie received notification that she will be Head Girl.”
“Not much of a surprise there,” Harry said proudly. “I don’t see that there was much of a competition. I assume Alex got picked as Head Boy?”
I like how Jamie becoming Head Girl is so much of an anticlimax that even the characters themselves acknowledge it.
“Yes!” Hermione answered, beaming. “Jamie is thrilled.”
They do realise that the Head Boy and Girl don't get their own private shag pad quarters, right? Even in Hogwarts Exposed?
“Looks like a certain professor is rather pleased too,” Harry pointed out.
“I am,” Hermione responded. “Oh Harry! They remind me so much of us. I’m happy the two of them realized they were meant for each other now and didn’t waste precious years as we did.”
Or, you know, they could grow up and drift apart. It happens. I don't know where the author got the idea of the Head Boy/Girl thing meaning that they're fucking soulmates - it's just a school thing that's going to be nothing more than résumé fodder this time next year. Unless Jamie is going to have to defeat a secret cabal of her fellow former Head Girls in a kung fu battle somewhere along the line.
“I agree,” Harry said nodding his head. “I don’t know how I managed to endure five years without you.” “Me either, without you,” Hermione said, a devilish look in her eye. “Sam’s watching Ben so we could have a quiet lunch and the girls could go off with their friends. We can get a slice of pizza later. What would you say to skipping lunch and having a little dessert?”
“Have you ever known me to turn down my favorite dessert?” Harry asked.
The treacle tart from the Hogwarts feast.
“I pray I’m always your favorite.”
Of course not. Hogwarts Exposed, where everyone's lives are ruled by the contents of their pants. Assuming they've got any on.
Day Four, Thursday, August 11, 2005, St. Thomas
Which is also apparently located on the FPODD.
“Let’s ask her to join us,” Kim said. “She’s been sitting there alone for over an hour and looks truly bored and depressed.”
“Have you forgotten whose niece she is?” Emily asked.
“If I recall correctly, you were dating Dick Bancroft’s brother last year,” Caitlin said. “I thought you believed in judging the individual, not their family tree.”
“I do, but that was hardly a good example,” Emily retorted. “We all know that came to a disastrous end.”
I know Google Image Search was a lot more limited when this was written, but surely the brochure the author lifted the itinerary from would have had some photos he could use as a reference if nothing else. You're not selling the holiday of a lifetime when there's no description to distinguish a sun-drenched Caribbean beach from a wet weekend in Blackpool.
“Are you sure it’s over?” Kim inquired.
Unfortunately not: this is only the fourth chapter.
“Its over!” Emily replied, louder than necessary. “I don’t have time for little untrusting boys when there are committing men available.”
I thought the problem with Tyler was that Emily couldn't trust him rather than that he didn't trust her.
“Please tell me that you’re not referring to that git, Roger,” Caitlin appealed.
Because "git" is the word you use for someone you suspect of being a paedophile.
“You’re just jealous,” Emily replied.
Yes, every kid wants a creepy would-be molester sniffing around after them.
“Yeah! Right!” Caitlin answered. “Look, I don’t want to argue about it. Let’s just drop the subject. Do we want to be decent and ask Angel to join us or just walk by and kick sand in her face?”
You don't want to be doing that. It'll end with her taking up bodybuilding and beating you up. Elsewhere on the FPODD:
“And just exactly what is so funny about me being buried in the sand?” Jim asked.
“Its more what’s not buried that’s funny,” Sam said, trying to suppress her giggles.
Funny if her sense of humour is ten years behind her actual age, anyway.
Jim had allowed himself to be buried by the all too eager Timmy and Lynn. He and Sam had initially helped the youngsters dig a trench and then Jim had grudgingly agreed to lie in it and be covered with sand. Lynn and Timmy were now busily building ramps so that they could drive their toy cars up and over the completely helpless man.
“Is my face that funny?” he asked, not understanding what exactly Sam found so hysterical.
“It’s not your face,” Sam said, slightly embarrassed. “For some reason the kids decided to leave your privates uncovered.
I'd normally ask why it would occur to a pair of toddlers to do this, but even leaving aside the devil child thing, look at what Timmy's got for role models.
And before you get offended, that’s not what I’m laughing at either. It’s just... I was thinking what I would do to my husband if I ever found him in such a compromising position.”
Jim made a mistake, a colossal mistake that male nudists must never make.
He decided to cook some bacon.
He began to imagine himself being tortured in the way he imagined Sam meant she would torment Ron. His thoughts caused an immediate and extremely noticeable reaction.
His latent magical powers awakened and he turned everyone in the vicinity into frogs. In the confusion, he was able to work himself free and rearrange himself to spare his blushes.
Timmy and Lynn were occupied building their highway and didn’t notice Jim’s dilemma, but fortunately Sam had because Jamie and her friends had picked that very moment to approach them. Without a word, Sam picked up one of the empty pails that the children had tossed aside and inverted it over Jim’s quite noticeable erection.
The key to doing visual comedy in text is that the humour comes from how something is described, not what's being described. This author's narrative voice is as dull as dishwater and he's no good at description, so he's out on both counts. Especially since this routine is recycled from the bit where Harry throws a hat over the evil doctor/rapist's dick back in Too Exposed.
“Thanks,” said a scarlet-faced Jim seconds before the girls arrived.
Besides Chantal and Felicite, Felicite’s younger sister Monica also accompanied Jamie.
None of them seem to have any kind of personality whatsoever. We don't even know anything about them beyond the fact that they're nudists and French.
“Sam, have you seen Kim and my sisters?” Jamie asked.
“Not for about an hour,” Sam responded. “They were standing just over there talking to a girl about their age; then the four of them ran off toward the water.”
This is the first indication we've had that an hour has passed since the girls went over to talk to Angel.
“Thanks,” Jamie said politely as the group started to leave. Then she turned back and gave Sam a smile. “That’s a unique use for a sand pail.”
I thought nudists didn't notice things like that. For that matter, I thought Jamie herself had told us that nudists didn't notice things like that.
Jim turned an even brighter red, but said nothing until the girls were out of earshot. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he said apologetically. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I’ve been a naturist since I was ten, but never had that problem before.”
Our characters are so super-special awesome that they can, uh, "frustrate" a lifelong nudist!
“It’s really no big deal,” Sam said, and then thought about her choice of words.
Which is more than can be said for the author.
“I wish the four of us were able to do more things together,” Jim said truthfully.
“So do I,” Sam said sadly as Jim was finally able to sit up, “but I’m happy that Ron at least has Bonnie to keep him company and occupied. It must be strange being the only clothed person among all these naked bodies.”
Jim gazed about the beach. With the exception of the vendors, everyone else was indeed nude.
So nobody else on the entire cruise has a friend or relative with them who's okay being around naked people but isn't ready to go all the way themselves? I don't buy it.
He stared at Sam, trying to build up his courage. Finally he said, “Perhaps the four of us could get together one evening for some adult type entertainment before the cruise comes to an end.”
Sam hesitated for a moment. Ron had expressed a desire to visit the ship’s casino, but she hadn’t really been interested and neither had Harry or Hermione. She felt extremely guilty that Ron and she had been spending so little time together. This would be a perfect opportunity to be with both Ron and their new friends.
The POV is doing its usual thing here. And it's also insultingly obvious that Jim doesn't mean the casino when he's talking about "adult-type entertainment". I'm surprised Sam's mind doesn't go there, considering that she's got as much of a one-track mind as anyone else in this fic.
“I can’t believe Harry actually talked Lloyd into trying that.” Michelle said. “We’ve been to numerous places where they offered parasailing before, and he’s never shown the least interest.”
“Harry has a way of getting people to do things with him that they’d never consider doing on their own,” Hermione said, as she watched Harry and Lloyd being strapped into their harnesses.
Does he? I thought she'd convinced him that the nudist thing was the way to go.
“What I don’t understand is why you keep yourselves secret?” Michelle questioned. “You’d be revered and treated like celebrities.”
“More likely we’d be feared and mistrusted,” Hermione retorted. “Some would try to force us to use our powers for their benefit, while others would probe and examine us, trying to learn how we became different.”
Michelle thought for a few moments, as the smile slowly faded from her face. “You’re right to remain hidden within your own world. Knowledge of your existence would cause a panic. Instead of seeing your kind as a blessing, most would consider you a threat and try to exterminate you.”
Did you really think I could resist that?
“Most, but not you?” Hermione asked, raising her eyes.
“No! I’ve gotten to know you personally. You’re good people,” she said emphatically. “But I do want to hear more. If you don’t normally use our type of transportation, how did you get to Fort Lauderdale?”
Hermione explained Apparating and Portkey’s and told Michelle about the girls’ adventure in Fort Lauderdale.
What a delightful story to share with your friend: "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time we met a rape gang who kidnapped our kids?" Is she going to talk about how Hooch assaulted Caitlin and left her for dead next, or maybe about how she got her nipple eaten and needed her boss to fondle her better, or how she got kidnapped and tortured?
It seemed that each answer Hermione afforded Michelle initiated a new question.
Hermione watched nervously as Harry sailed out to sea; happy for the distraction the questioning yielded. She much preferred Harry flying on a broom that he controlled.
I'm sure Harry could control the parasail by magic if something went wrong, because it's not like anyone actually seems to care about the Statute of Secrecy in Hogwarts Exposed even though they've just remembered it existed.
Hermione thought for a moment on her own Muggle heritage, particularly on both her parents being Muggle dentists and her introduction to the magical world occurring when she received her Hogwarts letter the summer before her eleventh birthday. Now as she talked with Michelle, she thought about how different the magical world was from the one into which she had been born.
“Then centaurs actually exist and unicorns, too,” Michelle said in amazement, interrupting Hermione’s reflection. “Unicorns are so beautiful. I’d love to see and brush one.”
“They are beautiful and pure; unfortunately they will only accept the touch of a virgin,” Hermione informed Michelle. “Jamie’s Animagus form is a unicorn.”
“Jamie’s what?” Michelle questioned.
“Some witches and wizards have the ability to transform into an animal. It is a rare ability among magical folk, mainly because it takes lengthy painful training.”
“I assume you and Harry have the ability,” Michelle said with a laugh.
She's got the measure of how cheesy this fic is.
Hermione nodded her head yes. “Harry can transform into a Golden Griffin, and I can become a wolf.”
“A Golden Griffin?” Michelle questioned. “Isn’t that a winged lion? But they don’t exist?”
No, and there's no way you should know about them: they originate from the Psychic Serpent fics, and don't appear in Muggle folklore at all.
Hermione only smiled.
“You mean Harry can actually fly?” Michelle inquired.
Which makes Hermione's fear of him flying look even more irrational, by the way.
“Yes. One of my worst memories is flying on his back. I’m not sure which was worse; that or flying on a hippogriff,” Hermione answered.
I thought the hippogriff ride was supposed to symbolise the pure Harmonian love.
“A hippogriff?” Michelle questioned. “Never mind! I don’t even want to know.”
So she's heard of a golden griffin (as opposed to the regular kind - for those of you who've not read Psychic Serpent, it's a lion with wings but without an eagle's head and is the griffin d'or that Godric was named after) but not a hippogriff, which actually does exist in Muggle folklore. Yay consistency! Back on the ship:
“That was refreshing,” Bonnie said, as she got out of the pool. “I wish you had been able to join me.”
“Yeah,” Ron said forlornly. “I feel like I’ve been... what’s the phrase you Americans use? ‘A wet blanket’?”
Uh, we also say "wet blanket". For instance, when talking about Hermione as portrayed in this fic.
“Ron, you’re not a wet blanket. You’re a lot of fun,” Bonnie proclaimed. “Not everyone is comfortable enough with their body to go au naturel. Your shyness is one of the things I find appealing. Do we have time for another game of chess before lunch?”
She finds him appealing? Oh, just screw already.
“I wish we did, but we should be departing soon to avoid being late. As it is, I feel guilty spending so much time away from Sam and Timmy,” Ron said, shamefaced.
"We should be departing soon." - Ronald Weasley.
“We’ve been looking for you guys everywhere,” Jamie shouted as she ran up to Emily.
“Evidently in all the wrong places,” Emily responded in jest. “What did you want us for?
“The recreation director just posted a notice; there is going to be a talent contest the last evening of the cruise. I thought you might be interested,” Jamie suggested.
A talent contest, eh? The author should have got HTG to co-write this bit.
“When you say talent, I assume you mean singing, dancing or playing some sort of instrument,” Caitlin said. “That most certainly leaves me out.”
“I only have a talent for getting into trouble,” Emily said with a laugh. “What about you Angel?”
“I might give it a try,” she answered. “It might be fun.”
“Kim, you have a great voice,” Emily stated. “Why don’t you enter?”
“Me?” Kim said. “I only sing in the shower. Besides I could never get up on a stage like this.” She indicated her lack of clothing. “I’d die of embarrassment.”
This is the first we hear of her singing in the shower. Though looking back through the archive, characters in Hogwarts Exposed do seem to spend far longer in the shower than anyone ever does in canon.
“Here comes your aunt,” Caitlin said to Angel, interrupting the conversation about the talent show.
Really? I'd never have guessed that saying something in the middle of a conversation about the talent show would interrupt it. What would I do without the author to tell me these things?
“What are you doing hanging about with this rabble,” Roz shouted nastily. “I thought I told you to stay away from their type.”
“Good morning Roz,” Jamie said pleasantly. “I’m glad to see that the cruise is having a pleasant calming effect on your temperament.”
“Never you mind me!” Roz bellowed. “I want you and your low life family and friends to stay away from my niece. My brother has spent too much money sending her to the best English finishing schools to have all their efforts negated by associating with the likes of you.”
If she's Kim and Emily's age, she's far too young for finishing school: as its name suggests, upper-class girls and young women attend finishing school towards the end of their education, to prepare themselves to enter high society. But I'm left with a question: if Rosalind's family are upper class, then what's with Rosalind herself? I get that she might not care what the lower orders think of her, like I said about Draco in the previous chapter. But running around with no regard for her appearance, acting like a thug and getting drunk in public (like she did at Cap d'Agde in the last fic) would reflect poorly on her from the POV of her fellow toffs as well. Either have her care about her social standing or behave the way she's been established to behave; you can't have it both ways. She can still be nasty, just in a more subtle and manipulative way.
“Gather your belongings,” Roz ordered. “Your mother wants to see you immediately.” Roz grabbed Angel by the arm and dragged her off without another word. Angel looked back, giving what appeared to be a helpless ‘I’m sorry’ expression.
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d get the impression that Roz doesn’t like us,” Emily said straight faced. Everyone laughed.
Hilarious. My sides ache. Back on the ship:
“We’re different people, from different backgrounds,” Bonnie explained. “You’re shy and I’m a bit of an exhibitionist. Plus you must remember that I rarely ever wear clothes. What is an earth shattering experience to you is my everyday lifestyle.”
“Want to hear something silly?” Bonnie asked, actually blushing. “A part of me hopes you never take your clothes off; I’d miss the mystique. Of course, another part, the bad part, wants to see you nude. Preferably with a hard-on.”
The author's learned a new word for an erection!
“Are you purposely trying to give me one?” Ron questioned. “Let’s talk about something else.”
Bonnie seemed to ignore Ron’s comment as she started into what almost seemed like a rehearsed speech.
So exactly like all the dialogue in this fic.
“Jim and I were talking about you and Sam last night before we went to bed. We were both hoping to meet a special couple on this cruise, a couple we could swap good times with, and we think you and Sam are perfect. Its fun playing chess with you,” she continued, “I hope we can do it for the remainder of the cruise. Jim and I have also both enjoyed the times we’ve spent with the children.”
Bonnie took a deep breath, which had an amazing affect on her breasts.
So amazing that it's never actually described.
“Ron, Jim and I were wondering if you and Sam would consider getting together with us for a little adult type recreation before the cruise ends.”
This conversation is almost a direct copy-paste of the Sam/Jim conversation from earlier, right down to the "adult-type" qualifier.
Finally, Ron thought to himself, someone who wants to spend some time in the casino.
The "they think they're talking about the casino but it's actually sex lel" routine really isn't any funnier the second time round. And considering that almost all of Ron's personality has been overwritten by his non-canon werewolf sex drive, it makes even less sense for him not to realise what she's talking about.
“You can’t possibly imagine how much I’d like to do that,” Ron said enthusiastically. “I’ve been trying to talk Harry and Hermione into it ever since we left port, but for some reason they think its wrong. I told them we didn’t have to do it the entire night, just a quick in and out to see whether we liked it or not, but they outright refused.”
It's funny because this description can also refer to shagging! Now it's time to check in on Ginny and Draco back at Hogwarts, or wherever the hell they are because I don't think it was ever made clear.
“What was all the racket? Draco asked as he entered the room, still toweling himself off from his shower.
“We received an owl,” Ginny exclaimed. “Well, not really an owl; it was some sort of large, colorful tropical bird. It could only just get through the window and then it was very impatient and not the least cooperative.”
“Is it from Harry and Hermione or your brother,” Draco asked indifferently.
“Actually it’s from Sam,” Ginny answered as she read the parchment. “Oh My! The trip got off to a frightening start. A street gang upon arrival accosted the girls, but everyone is okay.
"Got attacked by a gang of perverts. Having a lovely time. Wish you were here."
Sam says the accommodations are beautiful and the food is terrific. Ron hasn’t taken his clothes off yet, but they’ve made friends with a nice couple. The wife plays chess. Sam says that the only time my brother doesn’t have a stiffy is when he’s playing chess with Bonnie.”
I, just, what? I can't decide who's worse: Sam, for telling Ginny all about her brother's penis (in a letter that can be intercepted!) or Ginny, for relaying the information to Draco of all people. And apparently the author's new-found vocabulary didn't last, because we're back to theoretically mature adults talking about stiffies again.
“She must be quite the hag,” Draco remarked. “I thought the idea was for the female of the species to arouse the male into having an erection, not to cause him to go placid.”
Are you kidding? If Draco got told all about Ron's boners (from Ginny, no less) he'd think Christmas had come early. Not be like "oh, right" before launching into a vaguely sexist aside.
“Do you mean like this?” Ginny said, as she walked over to Draco and placed her hand on his leg. Then she ever so softly ran her hand up his leg until she was holding his manhood. His member immediately sprang to attention.
The honourable member for Hogsmeade West.
“Now that you have my attention, what do you intend to do about it?” Draco asked.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” Ginny responded, wetting her lips with her tongue and then dropping to her knees in front of Draco.
And cut. Not a moment too soon.
Day Five, Friday, August 12, 2005, St. Kitts
“Today we are anchored at the beautiful island St. Kitts,” the voice echoing from the public address system announced. “Here you will have the opportunity to enjoy the type of lush tropical paradise usually only associated with islands in the South Pacific.
“The atmosphere here is palpably luxuriant, an intoxicating blend of sunlight, sea air and fantastically abundant vegetation. At the center of St. Kitts stands the spectacular, cloud-fringed peak of Mount Liamuiga, a dormant volcano covered by dense tropical forest filled with elusive green vervet monkeys and brilliant tropical flowers. For eco-tourists, or simply anyone who enjoys stunning natural beauty, St. Kitts cannot fail to exceed expectations.
Yes, it's dialogue, and yes, it's probably copy-pasted from a tourist brochure. This is still the most description we've had of a location the whole time they've been on the cruise. Savour it.
“We remind you that St. Kitts does not allow public nudity. Therefore, please dress appropriately before disembarking the ship.”
Plot twist!
“The island does look beautiful,” Emily admitted. “It might be fun hiking through the forest and I know just what I can wear.” Emily suddenly had a devilish expression on her face.
“Emily,” Caitlin whispered. “I don’t like that look on your face.”
“Neither do I,” said Kim. “Please tell me that you disposed of that floral sun dress of yours.”
Emily smiled broadly.
“You can’t wear that,” Caitlin admonished. “Have you forgotten what happened the last time?”
“Last time I was in the Great Hall.
"And wasn't wearing robes for some reason!"
Caitlin quickly slipped on a skirt and mini top, then rushed next door to Emily and Kim’s room, where Kim was just finishing tucking her blouse into her skirt. Meanwhile, Emily, who also had already dressed, was adjusting her rucksack. Caitlin was delightfully surprised to see that Emily was wearing a skirt and top and not her infamous sundress.
“How did you talk her into not wearing the dress from Hell?” Caitlin asked Kim.
“I didn’t,” Kim answered. “One look in the mirror and she decided to face reality.”
“I must have grown two inches this summer,” Emily said, shaking her head in astonishment. “My whole twat showed. I’m a nudist, not an exhibitionist.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that,” Caitlin said with a laugh.
Dammit, Caitlin, I'm the sporker here. Anyway, they go ashore.
They had walked only about one hundred yards when they realized that the beach was already hidden from view. “When they say dense, they really mean it,” Kim commented. “It must be hard to maintain these paths.”
“Most people are lazy and ride four-by-fours on the old dirt plantation roads, ” Jeff said. “I bet we’ll be the only ones to use this path all day.”
“If that’s the case, why are we still wearing these horrible garments?” Brian questioned.
“Finally someone who thinks like me,” Emily said, smiling as she struggled to get the rucksack off her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” Kim inquired, skittishly.
“The same thing as Brian,” Emily replied. “We’re going to take off our clothes and enjoy this hike.”
“But the announcement this morning said that St. Kitts didn’t allow public nudity,” Kim reminded them.
And even if they did, you're in a tropical rainforest. Hello, insects, snakes, spiders, spiky and poisonous plants?
The group, despite stopping numerous times to admire flowers and other tropical vegetation, made excellent time reaching the base of Mount Liamuiga, where they picnicked on the beverages and snacks that Emily had thoughtfully packed.
“That was fun,” Kim acknowledged as she finished off a second beverage.
I like how these "beverages" are never identified, much less described. I just picture a plain can with "BEVERAGE" printed on the side in Arial or something.
“Although I doubt I’ll ever be as zealous a nudist as the group of you, I have to agree this was certainly fun and harmed no one.”
“That’s my argument with current laws,” Emily declared. “In a free world, people should be allowed to do as they please as long as it doesn’t infringe on the rights of others. I don’t understand how my being nude encroaches on someone else’s rights.”
I've said this before, but would you like to sit on a train seat that's had someone else's bare arse on it for the past four hours? Anyway, back to Hermione. Not content with telling Michelle that she's a witch, she's apparently telling her:
“You still have no recollection of what happened during the time you were kidnapped?” Michelle asked
... all about the evil plot to resurrect Salazar Slytherin, do something or other and profit. Thereby putting an innocent, helpless Muggle and her family in danger if the "Great One" ever finds out. Nice work. And yes, she has indeed told her about the time she got kidnapped and tortured.
Hermione shook her head no in response to the question.
As opposed to nodding her head yes, of course.
She had just finished telling Michelle about how Jamie and Alex had saved her from a sure death after she had been abducted “I sometimes have horrible dreams having to do with that time, but have no way of distinguishing whether the scenes contained in the those dreams are factual memories or just my imagination at work,” Hermione responded.
“When you initially told me that you and Harry were a witch and wizard, I was extremely envious,” Michelle said. “But now after hearing all that you’ve both been through, I think I’ll stick with being a plain old Muggle nurse.”
Hermione's approach to making her realise she's better off as a Muggle apparently being to scare her half to death and put her in the firing line.
“I’d like to think so,” Hermione said, hopefully “It seems incredible that anyone would be anserine enough to try an resurrect someone as vile and evil as Salazar Slytherin.”
Resurrecting long-dead dark lords is "anserine", apparently. I can only assume the author meant asinine, which is something I'd associate less with putting the future of the world in peril and more with hiking through the jungle with no clothes on. ETA: It's a word, apparently, and means "relating to a goose" and can be used metaphorically to mean a fool. The more you know, but I'm not sure even Hermione does. And it still doesn't fit: "Oh, you resurrected Slytherin, you foolish goose!"
Michelle let this statement settle as she thought about the prophecy Hermione had recited to her.
We get the wonky prophecy reiterated, complete with the line about Slytherin and (unspecified) evil being "joined", which considering what "joining" apparently means in prophecy-speak... I have to say that the Great One humping the thousand-year-old corpse of Salazar Slytherin wouldn't even be in the top ten most disturbing things in this fic.
“Hold up a minute will you,” Emily said, as the group made there way back the path.
Without out any further explanation, she stepped just off the path and squatted.
Everyone seemed transfixed as they watched. Only Kim seemed able to verbalize. “Emily, what in the world are you doing?” she asked, taken aback.
“I would think that was fairly obvious,” Emily answered, still crouched.
Stop sporking the fic for me! Why's everyone so surprised that she goes to the toilet? I know people in fiction generally don't, but this is Hogwarts Exposed.
Only Kim, who had drank more than any of the others, refused to relieve herself and insisted that she didn’t need to go when, in fact, she felt like her bladder was about to burst. She was determined that somehow she would hold it.
And I wonder where this could possibly be going.
Suddenly, Brian came to an abrupt halt. “We’re back at the beach already,” he said in surprise.
“Wonderful,” exclaimed Kim. She knew where her first stop would be.
“Not a soul saw us,” Emily proclaimed happily. “I knew we’d get away with it.”
“That’s where you are wrong,” said a livid voice. “You’re all under arrest for indecent exposure.”
Yeah, that's totally what'd happen if the police found kids wandering around sans clothes. Bullshit! They'd make them get dressed and have a few choice words with their parents. Unless, of course, they just happened to find the one policeman on the island who's a pervert who wants to have his own way with them. And what are the odds of that?