Harry Potter VS Murphy\'s Law

"Me? How could I get you sent to detention?”



“You remember that first Halloween?”



“…the night the Troll got in?"



----------------- FLASHBACK TIME -----------------------



“Ron! Hermione! She doesn’t know!” Harry hissed at Ron, pulling him back out of the line following Percy Weasley back up to the tower.



Lawson, who had been just coming round the corner, staggered back slightly as the two rushed past him. He gazed after them, confused, then heard Percy again calling authoritatively for everyone to hurry up and follow him. What the bloody hell were Potter and Weasley doing, going to find the troll themselves? They were first years, they’d be killed!



Murphy snarled an oath and set off after the two, who had vanished down the hallway. Not sure which way he should go, he headed for where Professor Quirrel had said that the troll had gotten into the building; the dungeons. He barreled through the empty halls and down the spiraling staircase into the black dungeons. “Lumos!” He whispered, drawing his wand. By its light he began to run through the hallways in search of the others.



He couldn’t find them. He felt like he’d checked every classroom, every area except for Snape’s office and class – he knew where THEY were - in the entire dungeon. At least it felt like it… it was so damned dark down here that he lost his bearings more than once. Everything looked the same. It wasn’t really long before he felt he was totally lost. He heard a teacher approaching and doused his wand immediately, hiding in a nook behind a statue, his heart pounding so loudly that he was sure that they must hear it. Severus Snape swept past him, grumbling about idiot Gryffindor and their desire for death.



He waited until he actually heard a door open and close before he moved again. He re-lit his wand and halted, seeing a particularly scruffy thin cat seated in the hallway staring at him. Mrs. Norris! He turned and found himself face to face with the castle’s caretaker, Argus Filch.



“Runnin’ about in the dungeons, are ye…? Well, you’re in deep, you are, Mr. Lawson…” he said, his face breaking into a wide grin of excitement. He seized the boy’s wand hand and removed the wand from it, taking him by the other arm. “Shall we see what Professor Snape has to say about a Gryffindor skulking around in his dungeons on Halloween night…?”



“I just… I got lost sir…” he attempted, but Filch’s smile only grew and he dragged him down the hallway where Professor Snape had vanished.



------------- BACK TO THE PRESENT ---------



"I was lost down there for hours!” He said, glaring at Harry, who found he was hard-pressed not to smirk at that. This guy had been lost in the dungeons for hours?? The dungeons weren’t that complex, really; if you just followed them around long enough they looped around and led you right back to the exit. He must have the directional instincts of a lemming! "I got caught by Filch and Professor Snape sentenced me to a month\'s detention working for Filch because of you!" he scowled, adjusting the ridiculously large gun on his shoulder.



"Again, not my fault; we said where we were going, had anyone been paying any attention. Everyone knew that Hermione was in the girl’s bathroom..." Harry explained.



Lawson glared at him, eyes narrow. “I’m gonna get even with you for every bit of it, Potter!” he said. “Everything you do effects other people and you’re so busy being the famous ‘Chosen One’ that you don’t even bloody notice!”



Harry was growing quite concerned about his own health; that gun that Larsen had his hand resting on looked big enough to take his head off in one shot. He was wandless and no one was expecting him anywhere for hours; no one would even be looking for him.



“You never thought about it, did you Potter?” he asked, his eyes snapping with his anger. “Every bloody thing you did! And to top it all off, you just had to be SO bloody brilliant at flying!”



He found himself quite confused at that statement. "I love flying. What\'s wrong with that?"



"No one gets on the quidditch team when they\'re eleven; that’s never happened! No first year has EVER been on Gryffindor’s quidditch team!" He snapped.



“What the bloody hell did my being seeker have anything to do with you?”



“I was supposed to be the seeker! Oliver Wood had let me try out for the team the day before! He was considering ME for team seeker until you, you little sneak, go and show off in front of McGonagall!"



"I wasn\'t showin’ off, I was just getting my friend’s rememberall back. I didn\'t even know where McGonagall’s office was at that point!" Harry was getting irritated at these accusations; he hadn’t done any of these damned things to hurt anyone.



“Shut up, Potter!” He turned and hefted the big weapon up onto his shoulder and the sight of the barrel aimed at him made him think twice about saying anything more.



Harry stared a moment, then decided that humility was his best weapon against this guy’s obsessive fury. Maybe if he just kept him talking he would be like all the crazed guys he saw on the telly; he’d just keep talking until help showed up for Harry, or he got it all out of his system. It was his only chance, really… “Sorry.” He murmured.



Lawson grunted, not mollified much, still quite angered, but he did lower the barrel of the gun slightly. “And then you and your bloody fancy flying got you MY position on the team. I was supposed to be the seeker; I was supposed to get all that glory! You didn’t need it; hell, you were famous just for living!”



“I didn’t ask to be famous, you know.” He answered. “But I suppose I’ve never looked at it that way.” Harry admitted. “If you’d have told me, said one word, I’d have given you the position in a heartbeat, especially before that first game. I wasn’t ever told that anyone else had tried for the seeker position…”



“You enjoyed every moment of that damned glory, didn’t you?” He asked, scowling. “You sure ate it up fourth year as the ‘Tri-Wizard Champion’…!”



“I didn’t even put my name in that cup!”



“Oh come on, Potter, you know bloody well that you did! How the hell you got past the magic barrier I’ll never know; I was old enough to get in that too! And again, you got chosen and I bloody didn’t! How did you get past the one champion per school?”



“Does it really matter? I wasn’t chosen to be the Tri-Wizard Champion for Hogwarts, Cedric was.” Harry reminded, not wanting to go into all the details of that entire time unless he had no choice.



“Amelia gave me one of those ‘Potter Stinks’ badges. You probably didn’t even notice I was wearin’ it, did you?”



“I must admit that I didn’t…”



“Your friend Ronald did.” He said, glaring at him. “He hexed me every time he saw me wearing it… always caught me off guard.” He grumbled. “Figures the only damned class he’d be good in is charms…”



“Did he get you with a bat-bogey hex?” Harry asked.



“So you DID know!” he accused.



“I had no idea; honestly. Anyone can tell you that the Bat-Bogey hex is the one that Ginny is best at. She uses it every time one of her brothers does something irritating. I doubt Ron’s as good at it as she is…”



“No, he’s not as good as she is. She hexed me too.” He scowled. “As if that’s not bad enough, you have to go and break the damned rules of the first trial and bring your broom in…”



“I didn’t break the rules; it said we could use our wand for whatever we wished. I used it to summon my broom. Flying was always my best skill, how else was I to take on a full grown mother dragon?”