Gred and Rabies Bite Back
by Seagull "Rabies" Laridae

A/N: *slaps back of own hand* Bad, bad, bad Rabies! Rabies should be doing schoolwork, but Rabies got the METMA challenge and couldn’t resist ;) Mandy, challenges that include you having a cameo AND Snape proposing to someone are just asking for trouble.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are not mine, they’re J.K. Rowling’s. METMA Mandy is not mine, she is hers. I am not mine... I belong to my fiancé. So there. Dedicated to Gredikins.

"You're short!"

Gred looked up from her computer, puzzled. She was puzzled because none of her family were at home, and therefore nobody should be talking to her, and secondly because... well, why would someone tell her she was short anyway?

"You're short," the voice repeated, as a strange figure materialised in the middle of the room.

"Who ARE you?" Gred asked.

"It's me," said the figure. She was wearing bunny ears and a long-sleeved green T-shirt with "Slytherin" written across the front in silver. "And you're still short."

"I'm sitting down." Gred stood up. "Who are you?"

"Rabies," said Rabies.

"Oh," said Gred. She didn't really have a better response. This was because Rabies lived on the other side of the world and shouldn't be in Gred's house, let alone have materialised in the middle of the room and started calling her short.

"You're still short when you're standing up," Rabies said. She gave Gred a hug. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, you too," Gred said, slightly dazed. "What're you doing here?"

Rabies shrugged. "I was reading your challenge, number seventeen, and I sort of disappeared from my computer, and sort of appeared here. I think I'm here for a reason."

"What reason?"

"I don't know."

A strange tingle ran down Gred's spine. "Oy vey," she muttered.

"So, what were you doing?" Rabies asked conversationally.

"Spanish homework."

Rabies sneezed. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Say something to me in Spanish."

Gred thought for a minute. Rabies sneezed again. "Tienes constipado?" Gred asked.

"No. Just sneezing."

"How did you know what I meant?" Gred asked.

"I read the challenge, didn't I?"

Gred looked around, enlightenment dawning. "You think we're in a challenge fic? Someone's written us into a challenge fic?" She snapped her fingers. "That would explain a lot. Like your mysterious materialisation. And why you keep saying I'm short."

Rabies shrugged. "Compared to me, you ARE short."

"You have six-inch bunny ears on your head. There are basketballers shorter than you and your ears," Gred said.

Just then there was a rumble of thunder from outside. An ominous, scary rumble. The two fanauthors hugged each other, although neither of them were normally scared of thunder.

It provided a convenient moment for whatever force had transported Rabies here to transport them both somewhere else entirely...

The gaggle of house-elves, led by Hermione, was almost at Dumbledore's office when a tear opened in reality and two figures fell through it.

"Hey!?" Hermione said. One of them had nearly landed on her.

"Hi, Hermione. Sorry," Gred said, getting up and dusting herself off. "I'm not used to this kind of thing. Rabies is the expert."

"Help!" squawked a familiar voice. "What's going on?"

Gred looked down at Rabies. Rabies looked back. "Now YOU'RE the short one," Gred said, giggling.

"That's because whatever freak occurrence transported us here turned me into a freakin' seagull!" the bunny-eared bird squawked from the floor. "Now turn me back, Hermione!"

Hermione pulled out her wand. "Finite Incantatum!" she said. She was confused, not knowing where these two had come from, or how they knew her name, but she wasn't going to refuse to help anyone in distress.

Rabies transfigured back into her usual form, bunny ears jaunty, and her smile returning. "Hey, thanks, Hermione," she grinned. "Believe me, being a bird isn't all it's cracked up to be!"

"Now, who are you, and what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, aiming her wand at the two of them. "Tell me before I turn you both into newts."

Rabies looked at Gred, and Gred looked back at Rabies.

"Um," Gred said intelligently.

"She's being very out of character," Rabies said.

"Very," Gred agreed. She looked at the house-elves behind Hermione. "What're they doing out of the kitchens?"

The foremost of the elves stepped forward. "We is on strike!" he piped. "We is refusing to work for no pay!"

"Dobby? You ALREADY get paid..." Rabies said.

Winky stepped up beside him. "We is all standing by Dobby!" she said determinedly. "We is ready to accept our rights!"

"Winky and Dobby is good leaders!" added a third elf. "Poppy is proud to follow such good leaders!"

Rabies folded her arms and looked sternly at Hermione. "What did you do to them?"

Hermione looked guilty, but before she could say anything, the door behind Gred opened and the fanauthor had to jump out of the way as Dumbledore and Snape exited Dumbledore's office.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing up here?" Dumbledore asked. His eyes lit on the house-elves. To an elf they looked determined, ready to fight for their rights. "With the house-elves..." He sighed. "Not THIS again..."

Faced with Dumbledore and a sneering Snape, Hermione suddenly looked pale, but still determined. "They want to negotiate wages, Professor," she said firmly.

"Elves don't get wages, Granger... teachers barely get them, so why should a bunch of elves?" Snape was being his usual snide self. "And who are you two?" He'd spotted Rabies and Gred. "You aren't students!"

"No. We're, um, leprechauns," Rabies improvised.

Gred caught on quickly. "That's right. We've come to, uh, spread cheer and goodwill!"

Snape's eyes widened. "Leprechauns?" They nodded. "That means you have money!" He dropped to his knees in front of Gred and started kissing her hand fervently. "Will you marry me, oh beauteous one?"

Gred jerked her hand away, looking revolted. "Ew! Get lost!"

Snape switched to Rabies. "What about you?"

"Um, I'm already engaged," Rabies said, taking five steps backwards and tripping over Poppy the house-elf.

Dumbledore had been taking this all in quietly, but spoke now: "Severus, get up. You're not getting a raise from me. Nobody is getting any more money. Hermione, take those elves back to the kitchens. I'm sure they have some lovely cooking to do for breakfast... and then the beds need to be made... and you wouldn't want to deprive them, would you?"

Poppy looked at Dobby and Winky, who were standing holding hands, and shook her head. "Poppy thought you was right!" she cried. "You was only trying to get paid... but you was neglecting your work!" She turned and waved at the other elves, shouting something at them, and the whole troop of them ran helter-skelter back down the corridor in the direction of the nearest stairs.

"Dobby and Winky only wanted others to be happy like them," Winky said sadly.

"Since Dobby and Winky fell in love, Dobby and Winky wanted to make others happy too," Dobby added.

Snape's face curled into a sneer, but before he could say anything, a flick of Dumbledore's wand had him involuntarily walking away. He looked back, saw the look on Dumbledore's face, and decided against fighting the spell.

"Now," Dumbledore said. "Miss Granger, I know you think you were doing the right thing, but you know you weren't, deep down. But I'm still going to have Hagrid explain to you why you shouldn't lead house-elves astray."

"ASTRAY? I was just sticking up for their rights!" Hermione said indignantly.

"AND Molly Weasley. I can owl her... I'm sure she'll be happy to have a word with you as well," Dumbledore mused. "Now, I believe breakfast will be ready in a few minutes... you had better head down." Gred wasn't sure, but she thought that he had flicked his wand at Hermione as well, because the Gryffindor girl's steps didn't look entirely willing.

Dumbledore turned to Gred and Rabies.

"Now," he said. "What do we do with you two?"

***


Gred: And that's where it ended.

Rabies: Pretty radical dream, Gred. You SURE there wasn't a point to it?

Gred: No point. It was strange as anything.

Rabies: I kind of figured that. Hey Gred?

Gred: Yeah?

Rabies: Are you REALLY short?

A/N: Wacky, short, whatever...

E-mail the Author