Baseball Slash: The Eighth Inning

[mijan]

Title: "Baseball Slash: The Eighth Inning"
Author: mijan
Rating: PG-13 (Some foul language)
Previous Installment: The Seventh Inning

Notes: Baseball season may be over, but the love of the game lives on. And while we're at it, we might as well throw some H/D slash in for good measure. Remember, at Fenway Park, during the break between the top and the bottom of the 8th inning, it's tradition to sing "Sweet Caroline". Enjoy!

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The Eighth Inning


This was sheer humiliation. This was unspeakable. The great Lord Voldemort was standing on a strange sports pitch, amongst a ridiculous bunch of Muggles. They had given him a large, club-like stick, and now they were yelling at him because he’d had the good sense to get out of the way when a ball was thrown directly towards his head!

The Muggles in the stands were laughing and jeering. The Muggles wearing the strange clothes like his were angry at him. And worst of all, Potter was nowhere to be seen. That little brat is always the center of attention. Where is he?

The great Lord Voldemort had no time for this nonsense. He had to find Potter and destroy him once and for all. He started to walk away from the “beater’s box”, but was unceremoniously told to step back in. Not wanting to raise suspicions until he located Potter, he stepped back into the box. A second later, the man in the middle of the pitch hurled the ball at him again! Determined not to be slaughtered by a Muggle plaything, he jumped backwards.

A loud booooo! echoed through the stadium. The next thing Voldemort knew, a gaggle of the strangely dressed Muggles from the trench-room were running out onto the field. It seemed like they were coming to attack him… but weren’t they on the same team as the Muggle man he’d replaced? Gripping his club-stick tighter, Voldemort took a few steps towards the oncoming mob.

The crowd in the stands roared into a frenzy, and began a strange chant. Over the noise of the fans, one Muggles coming at him yelled out, “Derek-Fucking-Jeter, what the hell do you think you’re doing, man?”

Before Voldemort could reply, the one right behind him yelled, “He’s screwing us over, that’s what! You stupid fuck! Team Captain my ass! You fucking asshole, get in there and swing the fucking bat!” He made a lunge towards Voldemort.

The first man turned on the second one and tried to hold him back. A third joined them, grabbing at the first man. A closed fist swung at someone. And the next thing Voldemort knew, a large angry mob had formed a self-sustaining brawl.

The crowd roared in delight. The players from the other team had collected on the other side of the pitch and were watching with a mixture of shock and amusement. And Voldemort stood there, still holding his stick, not sure what to do next. Shouldn’t his loyal American Death Eaters be there to support him? Shouldn’t they be leading him right to Harry Potter?

And that’s when Voldemort saw him. The Squib.

Dropping the stick in the middle of the pitch, Voldemort strode around the outside of the brawl on a direct line to George Steinbrenner. The notorious Squib was immensely wealthy, and although he was worthless as a wizard, he had more pureblood contacts than a Squib ought. And he looked furious.

“Derek, what the hell is going on here? Have you lost your –”

Voldemort stepped right up to the Squib, nose to nose, and hissed below the noise of the crowd. “If your connections weren’t valuable to me, Squib, I would crush your worthless body right now as an example of what happens to those who anger Lord Voldemort.”

In a heartbeat, the blood drained from Steinbrenner’s face. “M-m-my Lord?”

“Better,” Voldemort growled. “Now, I suggest you get this gaggle of yours under control. I am here seeking Harry Potter, and I will not be distracted further by this ridiculous game!”

“Y-yes, my Lord!” The Squib looked excessively pale.

Good, Voldemort thought to himself. He walked off the pitch, leaving the rabble of Muggles to sort it out for themselves.

“M-my Lord?” Steinbrenner called out from behind him. “You… you didn’t kill my player, did you?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Voldemort’s mouth. “Not this time.” With that, Voldemort turned and strode off the field, leaving a very flustered Squib, a one-team bench-clearing brawl, and a very confused stadium in his wake. He didn’t care. He would retrieve his wand, and then, he was going to kill Harry Potter.

In the meantime, Steinbrenner stumbled over to the fence and leaned against it heavily. “And I thought the Sox fans were dangerous…”


*********


Wait for it… wait for it…

The Death Eater pushed Harry through the doorway ahead of him, which was exactly the opportunity Harry had been waiting for. With the narrower port of access, only one of the Death Eaters could fight him at a time. In a flash, Harry gripped the Death Eater’s wrist and spun around. A sickening crack confirmed that the man’s elbow had been destroyed, and the accompanying scream was just as satisfying. As the man fell to his knees, Harry brought his own right knee up, nailing him squarely in the jaw.

The man fell limp to the floor. Before the one behind him could retaliate, Harry had pulled his wand and fired off the strongest Stunner he could muster.

In the silence that followed, Harry took a few seconds to breathe, and to try to stop his limbs from shaking. Unless these two Death Eaters had contacted their colleagues before they’d ambushed him, nobody else knew where he was. Of course, he wasn’t about to wait around long enough to find out. He needed to find Draco.

Carefully stepping over the two comatose forms on the floor, Harry peeked out into the hallway. It was still deserted. Granted, he’d taken so many twists and turns, he wasn’t exactly sure how he was oriented to the field. Normally, he would have memorized every movement, but…

I’m never drinking beer again. He reconsidered that. Until next week, he corrected.

Mentally dismissing the lingering effects of the alcohol, Harry squared his shoulders and took off at a light jog in the direction he’d come from. Just as quickly, he ground to a halt. On gut instinct alone, he turned around and took off in the other direction. Chances were that Draco was hidden in the same area he’d been taken, and where Draco had been concerned, Harry’s instincts had always been right. Well, not including their first six years of school, but who was counting?

The first door led to a broom closet, where it seemed a bucket of dirty water had recently been sloshed around the room. Looks like some idiot Apparated with his foot in a bucket. The next door was an equipment storage room. But the next…

“Merlin’s Beard!” Harry said aloud. “The Yankees’ locker room…” His voice trailed off in the air as he turned around in place. If he hadn’t had bigger things to worry about, he would have gladly left a few minor jinxes behind for the players to find. What was that Jock-Itch Jinx that Fred and George told me about? That’s when he heard a noise.

Instantly on alert, Harry dropped into defensive stance, scanning the room with his wand leveled. Then he heard it again. Something between a moan and a snore. Frowning, Harry lowered his wand and approached the cubbies. The first three he checked were normal. The fourth held a discarded set of wizard’s robes. The Dark magic clinging to them was strong enough that it almost physically stank. And the fifth cubby…

“Fuck!”

Derek Jeter’s limp body rolled out of the cubby, and his head hit the floor with a dull thud. Harry cringed, both from sympathy at the unconscious man hitting his head, but also at the sight of Jeter wearing nothing but a pink thong. As quickly as he could, Harry grabbed the nearest set of clothes and charmed them onto Jeter.

Marginally better. He cocked his head. Although Draco was right… he does have a decent arse. But for now… better that he stays asleep. Once I call the Aurors, they can wake him up and Obliviate him.

Harry propped Jeter up against the wall, then turned back to the wizard robes. They were black, with no designs, but they were anything but plain. And Harry could recognize the magical signature anywhere. Voldemort. Given the Stunned baseball player on the floor, and the odd behaviour of the man on the field who looked like Jeter, the scene confirmed Harry’s theory.

Polyjuice. Why is it always Polyjuice?

That’s when Harry noticed something protruding from Voldemort’s robes. Something almost pure white… it looked like a handle. Not wanting to believe his luck, Harry reached down and slowly extracted Voldemort’s wand from the robes. Just touching the wood caused Harry’s guts to turn cold, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Yet still, it had a familiarity to it, almost something that Harry had expected.

Now wasn’t the right time to consider it. Quickly, Harry tucked the wand into his pocket alongside his own, and without another moment’s hesitation, turned and rushed out the door. He still needed to find Draco. Oh yeah, and call the Aurors.


*********


The room was small, and it smelled like old gym socks. That might have been because there was a pile of dirty socks in a large hamper sitting in one corner. Dirty socks, t-shirts, uniform trousers, and…

I hope that isn’t a used jock strap.

Either way, Draco was Not Pleased with his accommodations. “It smells in here,” Draco sniffed.

The American Death Eater readjusted his arms across his chest and snorted. “Once your daddy’s through with you, you’re gonna be lucky if you still have a nose to smell with.”

“Lucius doesn’t scare me,” Draco said flatly. Still, the mention of his father’s name caused his heart to clench briefly in his chest. He gave another subtle tug at the ropes around his wrist. Not loose, but not magically charmed either. The wizard had seemed to take some sort of crude pleasure in manually binding him.

“Ha. You’ve definitely cracked, boy. Lucius Malfoy’s gonna rip you up one side and down the other.” He reached into his pockets and pulled out a few peanuts, still in their shells, and started splitting them open with his teeth.

“Urgh, how disgusting!”

“What’s your problem now?” the Death Eater asked, then popped a couple of shelled peanuts in his mouth.

“Peanuts. Revolting. I don’t know how you Americans can eat that sort of crud.”

“And you guys have Marmite. Point is?”

Draco sneered. “Point is, you people are plebian, and we have refined taste.”

The Death Eater actually laughed at that. “I’ve got plenty good taste,” he said roughly, leering at Draco.

That was enough to make Draco shudder to the core. This man was a filthy pervert. And he was eating peanuts. Draco was just about to make a snide comment about the overburdened taste buds of fat, lazy Death-Eater wannabes when something else caught his attention.

It was a slight movement from the door. Very slight. The Death Eater, who still seemed to be preoccupied with staring at Draco’s lower regions, didn’t notice that the door had opened just a fraction of a centimeter. And an eye was peering through the crack. A green eye, lightly veiled behind the shine of a glass lens.

Knowing he couldn’t show the Death Eater any sign that he’d seen Harry, Draco took a deep breath, and looked up seductively at the ugly man. “Really now? Good taste? Tell me, what sort of taste do you have?”

For a second, the Death Eater seemed taken aback. Then, he grinned smugly. “Only the best. Power. Purebloods. Budweiser. The Yankees. And only the most attractive young men.”

“Attractive young men, you say?” Draco purred dangerously, strengthening the distraction.

“Oh yes.” The man licked his lips. “It’s a shame what Lucius Malfoy will probably do to you. I think you’d have a lot more fun with me.”

“Really?” Draco was trying desperately not to gag. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see movement behind the door. Harry was readying his wand. Draco refocused his attention on the Death Eater. “What will you do with me? Buy me some peanuts? Take me to a Yankees game?”

“I think you’d like a Yankees game,” he said, leaning just a bit closer. “They play harder than the Red Sox. They’re the big boys of baseball. Balls… bats… leather…”

Draco nodded once, slowly, and said softly, “You know what?”

The Death Eater grinned. “What?”

Draco flashed the most vicious grin he could manage. “The Yankees SUCK.”

The look of confusion reached the Death Eater’s face only a split second before Harry’s Stunner struck the man in the back. He toppled over sideways, landing comatose at Draco’s feet.

Harry stood in the doorway, still pointing his wand at the unconscious man. He looked a bit out of breath. In the next instant, he had stepped over the man and untied Draco’s restraints with a quick charm.

“What took you so long?” Draco growled, rubbing his wrists.

“I got held up,” Harry said flatly.

“Oh?”

“The Muggle woman dragged me down to the medic station for my headache, and I was going to go look for you right after, when we ran into trouble. I ended up getting escorted back here by two American Death Eaters.”

Draco stood up. “Fuck, the Muggle isn’t involved, is she? That’s the last piece of trouble we need.”

“No, I told her to go back and watch the game.”

Draco looked at him disapprovingly. “And you really think one of those two Muggles is going to listen?”

“I… er… oh shit.”

Draco shook his head. “Come on, we’ve got bigger problems right now. We need to get out of here before Snake Eyes blows you to bits. And I rather like your bits intact, thank you very much.” He grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled, but Harry didn’t budge. Draco glared at him. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

“Take a look at this.” Harry reached into his pocket, and withdrew a long, white wand that was eerily familiar.

“That’s… that’s… that’s not…”

“Voldemort’s wand.”

Draco’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “But… how the hell did you get it?”

Harry shrugged. “Jeter had it.”

“Jeter… isn’t that the Yankees bloke?”

“Yes,” Harry said casually. “And you’re right, he does have a nice arse. But the pink thong he wears ruins the effect.”

Draco opened his mouth, then frowned, then shook his head as if to dislodge something nasty from his ears. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. So, what are we going to do?”

Harry’s face suddenly became dead serious. “A trade. He can’t do without his wand. And I need that bloody dagger.”

Draco went a shade more pale than usual. “You’ll never make it. Harry, you can’t take that risk!”

Harry shook his head. “Voldemort can’t take the risk. In front of a whole stadium of Muggles? Even a wizard can only do so much. He wouldn’t have the resources to overpower the Muggle police, rioting fans, and a squad of Aurors if he didn’t cooperate. And without his wand… do you know how much of his power is tied up in this thing?” Harry shook the wand for emphasis, which caused Draco to flinch.

That’s when Harry took another look at the wand. “Power…”

Draco frowned. “What, Harry?”

“This wand…” Harry said slowly. “It’s the last Horcrux.”

Draco’s mouth fell open a fraction. “Are you sure?”

Harry nodded. “I should have recognized it sooner. It feels just like the others. Here, hold it.” He held out the wand, handle-first, but Draco pulled his hands back.

“Sorry, that’s definitely a piece of wood I never want to get my hands on.”

Harry looked down at the Death Eater who was still lying unconscious on the floor. “Wow. That would make two in one room.”

“Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. Are you ready to go yet? And more to the point, do you know where to go?”

“Yeah, I’ve got an idea. Come on.”

Harry led the way into the hall, but Draco hesitated in the doorway. Thinking for a moment, he quickly pulled out his wand, aimed it at the Death Eater, and whispered an incantation. Then, for good measure, he kicked the unconscious man in the groin.

“What was that all about?”

“Gonorrhea Hex. It’s fitting.”

“I already did that before I Stunned him.”

“Yeah, but I hit him in the arse.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and without another word, took off down the hall with Draco close behind.


*********


“I don’t like this.” Michelle was sitting on the edge of her seat, fidgeting, while Yvette sipped a fresh beer. She’d gotten that one by flirting with a guy two rows back.

“Neither do I. It’s the bottom of the eighth, and we’re tied. We should be at least five runs ahead by now. But the intra-Skankees brawl was worth it.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Yvette gave a long-suffering sigh. “I’m sure the little Brit-boys can take care of themselves. You’re probably just exaggerating. Delusional. No more beer for you, lightweight.”

“I’m serious.”

“And that’s what scares me.” She took a slow sip of beer. “Ever since you came back from Basic Training, you’re out looking for a combat mission. We’re not at war, we’re at a baseball game!”

“I’m not talking about soldier stuff!” Michelle hissed below the crowd. “That guy just got abducted or something!”

“And you reported it to the security guards.”

“Who did nothing. Cop-wannabes. They’re just waiting for fan-brawls and drunken college guys. The second there’s a real emergency –”

“Which there isn’t.”

Michelle stood up. “That’s it, I’m going to find them.”

“You’ll miss the end of the game!”

“Maybe. But we need the luck around here to change, so it’s high time I did something.”

“But what about… hey!”

Michelle waved back over her shoulder as she hurried down the stairs.

Yvette sat back, sipped her beer, and grumbled to herself. “Never a dull moment.”

And with that, the crowd moaned as Trot Nixon struck out swinging.


(*To Be Continued*)

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Comments

[sgt-majorette.livejournal.com]

Before I even read the story, I must scream over your icon:

"Parseltongue, motherfucker!"

--and go embroider another sampler...

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins* I've had several people nearly choke laughing over this one. The sad thing is that right now, I can't remember where I got it from! I only wish I could claim credit.

[eleal.livejournal.com]

Hey - Baseball season is still going strong! We made the World Series - we actually are going to the World Series!! I am so happy! :D

Oh, and I am happy because you updated this ...it's a nice bonus.

I haven't talked to you in ages - how've you been?

[tresa-cho.livejournal.com]

LOVE! I love how you can still spin a story line even into a ridiculously crack!fic.

Oh yes, love the icon. That's why I popped by! You sidetracked me with your wonderful writing-ness.

[singlewoman.livejournal.com]

Yea, I am so glad that you did not forget this story! LMAO over Jeter and the pink thong. And the gonorrhea hex to the ass is just perfect.

How are you doing? Things OK in the apartment and is Morpheus happily installed?

*Hugs*

[karaz.livejournal.com]

George Steinbrenner = The Squib, and Jeter in a cubby? FTW! This fic is hilarious.

[shezan.livejournal.com]

Hahahahahaha!

(And ICON LUV!!!!!!)

[loudmeggaphone.livejournal.com]

Ohhh thank you thank you thank you!!! I was going crazy, studying for midterms and then this wonderful little chapter showed up! YOu have made my day, and possibly my week.

Great chapter. Jeter in a pink thong!! How...fitting. Tell me, was it sequined as well?

Haven't tlaked with you in a while. Hold things are good?

[saeryn777.livejournal.com]

Awesome fic.

And best icon. EVAR! \m/

[fiona-fawkes.livejournal.com]

I've seen it credited to kierthos.

[savvyjd.livejournal.com]

this series makes me so happy despite all the mayhem occuring in it, simply because the red sox, michelle, and h/d will win....moohahahahaha

[lunalovegoddess.livejournal.com]

Pink thongs and Marmite... nice touch.

I can't wait to see the fictional you in military mode. The wizards wouldn't be expecting a Muggle woman to know how to handle herself in a fight... ^_^

~waiting with bells on~
lunalovegoddess

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Yes, I know baseball season lives on. But... *shiffle* You know how it is.

I've been okay. Very busy. I've started several new activities, including Iaido classes and a Pool League. Life has definitely been busy. And I have guests coming this weekend.

E-mail me! :)

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins* Crack + plot = cracktastic silliness. :D

And... I only wish I could claim credit for the icon. But I loff it muchly.

*huggles you*

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*tackle-glomps*
Yes, Morpheus is thriving, and is finally safely installed in his new home. Things are coming together. Getting some new furniture this week, too. :)

How have you been, love?

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins* Glad you like! Sheer silliness, yesh. :D

[mijan.livejournal.com]

*grins* Likie?

[mijan.livejournal.com]

No, Jeter only wears sequins at night. While he's playing baseball, they would chafe. But I'm glad it made your day!

I know it's been a while. I've been crazy busy. I'm going to do a personal LJ update soon, but in the meantime, things have been great. New activities, new friends to hang out with, and just a lot of really positive stuff. How have you been?

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Thanks, love! And long time, no see! How have you been?

[mijan.livejournal.com]

LOL... yeah, it's rather insane, and there's much mayhem, but it's utterly cracktastic, and crack is so much fun! :D

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Oh, come on. I can't turn myself into a complete Mary Sue. I'm using myself as a character - NOT the hero. But I'll show up in the next chapter. T'will be funny. I hope. :)

*reaches over and jingles your bells*
;)

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Aaah! In that case, credit must be assigned!

[lunalovegoddess.livejournal.com]

*consider bells jingled*
Of course not a Mary Sue... just had this funny image in my head of you trying to be helpful, and Harry trying to protect you.
Speaking of heroes, last night I was watching "Heroes". If you end up watching it, the characters of Hiro and Ando are hilarious. Last night they tried to use Hiro's powers in Las Vegas. Solid gold moments, my friend.

[mijan.livejournal.com]

Oh? *grins* What channel/network is it on?