|What a Bunch of Nonjon
Author: nonjon PM
An unrelated series of ficlets, drabbles, one-shots, unfinished and abandoned fics from primarily the Harry Potter fandom and a couple others. This is like a miscellaneous folder or a random fic dump. Read at your own risk.Rated: Fiction M - English - Chapters: 14 - Words: 48,446 - Reviews: 448 - Favs: 311 - Follows: 203 - Updated: 04-27-09 - Published: 12-27-08 - id: 4746187
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: This is a new Harry Potter crackfic one-shot. Too much crack and not enough humor to turn this into anything more than a piece of WBN.
Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J. K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
The war with Voldemort was not important today. Yes, he'd taken over the Ministry, and yes, things were looking grim. Sure, Lucius Malfoy was Minister and Voldemort had been publicly pardoned as a scapegoat of the deceased Albus Dumbledore's evil muggle-loving machinations.
But the resistance needed a break. So today, they were celebrating both Harry and Neville's birthday on a beautiful sunny afternoon in the orchard behind the Burrow.
Fawkes had gone across the countryside transporting the guests and singing songs to ensure that they left their worries at the door.
The wizarding wireless was blasting. There were pick-up games of Quidditch, gnome tossing, broom racing, and friendly duels. Lavender Brown was happily judging a 'Who Snogs Better' contest blindfolded, unaware it was just Dennis Creevey having the time of his life.
Two enormous birthday cakes and one loud and obnoxious birthday song later, it was time for presents.
Neville went first, unwrapping a gift of humorous Snape target practice photos that screamed and bled when you hit the bullseye.
Harry peeled back the paper on one addressed to him and found a framed photo of his parents. James was partially covered by an invisibility cloak while Lily was chasing his floating head and two feet, snapping his invisible ass with a wet towel.
The gifts continued as the guests of honor took turns, ending with a tittering and twitchy Luna Lovegood presenting them both with a six-pack of unmarked beverages.
"I made these for you!"
Neville held the box a little further from his body. "Oh no. More pee. It's sixth year all over again."
"Don't be ridiculous, Neville," Luna scolded with a frown. "I made these with the gift Harry gave me for the anniversary of my future death."
Neville glanced at Harry remembering the oddness of that unexpected excuse to party. "What did you give her?"
Harry was about to reply that he bought her a new potions kit to replace the one he'd destroyed when Luna exclaimed, "He bought me my very own home-brew kit!"
Neville relaxed a little. "These are… potions?"
"Not that kind of home-brew," Luna insisted. "It was a home brewery kit. I made my own beer!"
Ron suddenly started paying more attention. "Beer?"
Luna nodded eagerly. "Daddy says we can sell it!"
Harry and Neville shared a look of unease.
"We're going to call it Quibbleer!"
Harry pulled one of the bottles from the carrying tray and stared at the more phallic than usual shaped bottle labeled with three crayon Xs.
Hermione saw the worry on Harry's face. "Quib…bleer?"
Luna nodded eagerly. "The officially sanctioned beer of the Quibbler."
Hermione glanced at the excitable young blonde woman. "And you've decided to name it… Quibbleer?"
Luna turned and earnestly admitted, "I wanted to call it SPEW but apparently someone's already using that name."
Ron snorted and began to choke on his pumpkin juice, refusing to meet Hermione's death stare.
"Come on, birthday boys," Luna urged. "Try it! It's really good."
Harry saw Neville looked as scared as a first year and kindly replied, "Maybe later we can…" He trailed off as he saw tears quickly forming in Luna's wide innocent eyes.
Luna started sniffling. "Buh- buh- but I rushed it to formula for your birthdays." She was jutting out her bottom lip and looking as pathetic as she could.
Hermione had noticed Harry's hidden amusement at the SPEW comment and was feeling vindictive. "Come on, Harry. She made it special for you. The least you can do is drink it."
Harry snapped a furious glare at his traitorous best friend.
Hermione ignored him as she moved over to comfort the nearly inconsolable Luna. "It's okay, Luna. I remember when I didn't have any friends either."
Luna wiped her eyes and nose but kept frowning. "Yeah but you were really annoying. And not using sex as a weapon." She sniffled some more and made sure the top two buttons of her blouse were undone.
Neville looked over at Harry inquiringly.
Harry leaned closer to him and whispered, "I swear it was just a normal potions kit. I think."
"We'll do it," Neville announced ignoring the fact that he was now the target of Harry's anger. "Come on, Harry. Be a man."
Harry looked over and knew he couldn't deny Luna's pathetic puppy dog face any longer. He saw Hermione's smug grin as she read the defeat in his posture. "But let's not be selfish." Harry grinned back as Hermione's face began to pale. "There's enough here to share."
Harry flipped the cap off and held out the penis shaped bottle to Hermione who was staring at it as if it were a hand grenade and he'd just pulled the pin. "Come on, Herms," Harry said using a nickname just to piss her off. "The least you can do is suck one down with the rest of us."
Hermione saw Luna's brilliant smile and gingerly took the bottle.
Ten of the lucky guests received bottles along with each of the birthday boys. Luna was clapping excitedly, uncaring of the fearful looks on all the faces around her.
"Well, go on," Luna urged despite the sizzling pops and cream-colored smoke floating out the bottles. "Drink up!"
"To Harry and Neville," Fred Weasley called out, lifting his bottle in toast.
All the others echoed his words as Harry added, "And Luna."
They echoed the toast again.
Harry started to slowly bring the bottle to his mouth and saw everyone else was mimicking him. No one wanted to be the first and time seemed to slow down as the bottles inched closer and closer to open, nervously puckered lips.
"Just do it!" Luna snarled like an angry dragon.
Neville jumped slightly and Harry flinched.
"Alright," Harry said, searching deep inside himself for a little Gryffindor idiocy with a side of courage. "Three, two, one."
Finally, as a group they all tipped their bottles up and into their mouths. Only as Harry swallowed down the fizzy peppermint flavored concoction did he realize everyone else had placed their thumbs and fingers over the bottle and he was the only one who actually drank it.
"Traitors," Harry grumbled as he felt his stomach tingling. He licked his lips and admitted, "Hey. That's not bad."
"Works for me," Ron said, deciding Harry not doubling over in crippling pain was sufficient. He tipped his bottle back and chugged the whole thing.
Harry was smiling as he took another, larger sip and marveled at the surprisingly delicious taste.
Ron let out a loud belch as he finished off his bottle of Quibbleer. His eyes widened in surprise and he said only, "Uh-oh" before his entire body exploded in a violent gory mess.
People began screaming and those nearest to Ron were covered in a pink gooey mist.
Harry was spitting everything in his mouth out as fast as he could and beginning to hyperventilate.
It was barely a second later before another belch was heard and Ron reappeared standing right where he had been, still holding the bottle. He was white as a sheet before his face split into a smile. "That was awesome!"
Ron looked down at the empty bottle in his hand. "This stuff is awesome! I gotta get me… whoa." He'd taken a tentative step forward and without any sense of balance or equilibrium fell face first into the ground.
"Oww," was the extent of his commentary as he landed in the liquefied purplish muck that had once been his body.
Luna had her hands on her hips. "Like any good beer, you should drink in moderation, Ronald."
"Gotcha," Ron said as he crawled to his knees and looked up at the others. He smiled at the lightheaded feeling and tingles running throughout his body. "This stuff is awesome."
Harry tilted his bottle back and swallowed another mouthful. "It is tasty."
"Bottoms up," Neville said as he experimentally took his first sip.
Harry watched Neville and shook his head, "Coward."
Neville smiled at the pleasant drink and took a bigger sip. He leaned towards Harry and softly explained, "I'm not the one protected by a prophecy."
"Hey," Harry whined and frowned. "Is that why I always have to walk in front?"
"Sure," Neville agreed with shrug as he took another drink.
Harry blinked in surprise and narrowed his eyes at Neville.
Neville saw Harry staring at him and put his hand to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"
"Yeah," Harry admitted as he tried to focus his eyes.
"What is it?" Neville asked rubbing everywhere.
"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I can't read French."
"What?" Neville squeaked in a less than masculine manner. He looked down at his hands and arms as lines and lines of French handwriting became slowly visible and in focus.
"Hey Hermione," Harry called out as he took another delicious sip. "Come over here. What's this say?"
Hermione saw the dark red text appearing on the surface of Neville's skin and hurried over. She grabbed his arm and was reading as it spiraled around his wrist before dropping it suddenly and blushing brightly.
"What?" Neville asked nervously. "What is it?"
Harry saw Hermione open her mouth and close it without explanation. He spotted what looked like a title come into focus on Neville's forehead and tried to sound it out. "L'héritier du Marquis de Sade?"
"Oh good God," Hermione squeaked looking away from Neville and Harry.
"That sounds familiar," Harry said, thinking deeply. "I think Sirius left me some books that had that name on them."
"He probably did," Hermione muttered.
"Whah," Dean shouted as he fell to the ground. He pushed one of his shoes off and then pulled off the second. "Luna? Why do I have hands where my feet should be?"
"That's the beauty of Quibbleer!" Luna cheered. "It affects everyone differently."
Neville huffed. "So I get French writing all over my body?"
Luna nodded. "This time at least. The next batch may be different."
Ron had rolled over and was sitting on the ground. "I hate the color orange." He tilted his head and looked to the sky. "Is this what being full feels like?"
Fred was pinching his arm and scratching deep gouges. "Pain feels awesome!"
"Ginny," Seamus said in a husky voice. "When did you get such nice curves?"
"I'm George," the Weasley twin insisted as the Irishman approached.
"Yes, you most definitely are," Seamus agreed as he began to massage George's shoulders.
"No you don't get it," George said louder twisting out of Seamus' grip. "I'm George! George Weasley."
"I know your name, Ginny," Seamus replied with a lecherous wink.
Ginny watched her older brother begin to run and shook her head in amusement. She'd finished off half her bottle and let out a loud belch.
Everyone turned to the sound and saw her complexion turn a little green. Her hand was covering her mouth and she looked like she was about to be sick.
"Oh god that tasted awful."
Ginny's head shot up and she spun around.
"What the hell was that?"
Dean crawled over on his four hands. "Ginny… did you just talk out your arse?"
"Maybe," the response came clearly from Ginny's behind.
Dean stopped before he got much closer. "That wasn't a belch, was it?"
"Didn't taste like one," her ass whispered in reply.
Harry took two more large gulps and had finished off his bottle of Quibbleer. He noticed Hermione's bottle was still nearly full. "Come on, Herms. Drink up."
Hermione looked at her bottle and then back at Harry. "I'm waiting to see what happens to you."
Harry scratched his forehead. "To be honest, I feel fine."
"Nothing?" Luna asked with a frown. "Nothing at all? It could be something minor."
"Well," Harry admitted. "My scar is kinda tingling. It doesn't hurt, just… itches a little." Harry shrugged. "But that's perfectly normal for me."
The music on the wizarding wireless cut off abruptly. All of the party's attendees turned to look at it when a loud voice began to address them.
"Attention, my fellow wizards," it began.
"Oh crap," Harry said having recognized the voice.
"This is your emperor Voldemort. I have just come from an intense discussion with the former Minister of Magic as a serious issue has been brought to my attention."
Harry and all the others had drawn their wands and exchanged meaningful silent glances.
"This will come as a shock to you, so you may want to sit down."
"Is he being… nice?" Neville whispered to Harry.
"See, the thing is, it turns out… I'm a half-blood named Tom Riddle."
"Holy fricking shit," Harry swore looking down at his empty bottle of Quibbleer.
"I know, I know. I was as surprised as you are," the announcement was slightly interrupted as Voldemort was being distracted. "Shh! Stop it Nagini!"
"Witch mother, muggle father, that's me. So all that stuff you may have heard or believed about halfbloods and mudbloods being weaker? We got it completely backwards. It's the purebloods that are fucking retarded." He seemed to lean closer to the magical microphone and confided, "And easily manipulated, let me tell you." The voice drifted off, "Stop it, Nagini. That tickles."
Voldemort returned to his address. "The status quo cannot continue. So from this point forth, all purebloods are required to-" There was a muffled crash and he was shouting away from the mic. "Oh for the love of me. What is it, Nagini?"
There was a pause and everyone seemed to take a moment to glance at Harry.
"Fine," came the muffled snap. "Yes, you can eat Wormtail."
An ear piercing shriek could be heard amongst desperate pleas of "No Master, no! I am your most faithful!"
The screaming sounds coming across the wizarding wireless lessened as Voldemort was back. "Now… where was I?"
A different distant voice responded. "My Lord? I believe you were cruciating Severus."
"Nott!" A very recognizable voice harshly snarled. "What are you-"
"Crucio!" The angry incantation interrupted and was rewarded by more screaming and the sounds of violent thrashing.
Pretty much everyone at the party was openly snickering.
"Oh, I remember now," Voldemort's voice cheerfully came back as the spell ended. "As I was saying, from this point forth all purebloods are required to register at the Ministry of Magic whereupon they will receive the pureblood mark. A skull with a serpent tattoo-"
"My Lord!" a distant voice shouted.
"Err… oh right. Well, we're still deciding on the exact details of the pureblood mark. But all purebloods are required to register. And Harry Potter too," was hastily added before Voldemort seemed to jerk in surprise."Potter! That's another one. Cagey little bastard…how could anyone think purebloods are more powerful?"
The announcement was interrupted again by a loud and disgusting gack-filled sound.
"Oh Nagini," Voldemort chided. "Must you regurgitate and re-eat all your food? Someone cut Peter's hand off or she's just going to keep coughing him back up. Hmm? Oh right." Voldemort's public voice returned and he signed off. "Thank you for your cooperation. And we will now return you to your regularly scheduled programming."
There were several muffled sounds as Voldemort asked, "How do you turn this thing off-" before suddenly the music was back playing in the middle of a Weird Sisters' classic.
Everyone at the party turned to stare at Harry who was holding his empty bottle in awe.
"Luna," Harry said ending the silence. "You have got to get me some more Quibbleer."
Luna squealed happily. "You like it? I knew you'd like it."
Harry just nodded eagerly and grabbed the nearly full bottle out of Hermione's hand. He tipped it back and chugged the whole thing as if he'd been stuck in the desert for days.
He pulled the empty bottle from his mouth and wiped his chin with the back of his hand with a bright smile. A belch forced its way out of Harry's surprised mouth. "Oh bugger," was all he said before exploding in a shower of gore.
Most of the partygoers had erected shields in time and remained splatter free as the second belch heralded Harry's return to where he was standing.
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Moderation," was the last thing Harry said before falling backwards into unconsciousness.
Author's Note: I'm not a huge fan of this fic or how it came out but I love the idea of Luna brewing her own beer. And I kinda like saying the word Quibbleer.