Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the goddess of LIFE! LIFE I TELL YOU! And she also owns all this shtuff. So yeah, go unoriginal me!
Rating: PG, but I'm thinking I might change it to PG-13, cause it's so insane it might blow yer head off. And there's some mild swearing...GO NEVILLE!
Summary: Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy goes out for pizza. And...that's about it actually.
Author's Notes: There are a few special things I would like to say before we begin.
1) Candy cane
3) Who's afraid of the big bad wolf
4) If you feel the need to pee in a bush, don't wear white socks.
And that's it for the words of wisdom.
I would also like to thank Rhysenn (Cheryl) For being a great friend AND giving me lots of help on this story! You rock monkey bone! And you are a writing genius! I bow at your feet oh pink one! Lol
And Nicola...for just, well, being Nicola! Lol! Love you! *heart heart* Lol
And Draco, for being a MORON in shorts, jean shorts. You loser. Goooooo Cliars!
And Ribbon. Will we ever agree on anything? I think NOT! Which is the beauty of our friendship. Lmao! And I STILL think you COMPLETELY cheated on that death word game! You stole my word!
And thankyou to Blackcat for all the help you've given me! If it wasn't for you I would have NO idea what the heck I was doing when it came to this site!
And others. Thankyou to others. Because without others, you would have no, uh, non-others, yeah.
Magic. Everyone always wonders, "Is it real?" Do people actually have the ability to pull rabbits out of their hats? Some people have the talent to pull their heads out of their asses in time to make stupid comments so anything is possible. Of course, no one has the ability to do magic right away. It's an art that must be learned, formed and sculpted....like art...Anyhow, unless you get an owl dropping letters into your mailbox and leaving pellets on your lawn, you won't have a chance. The letter isn't just a letter though. It's an invite to one of the best magic schools. Hogwarts.
To the eyes of any student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, save Hermione Granger, the place is perfectly normal magical school. Well, as normal as a school filled with a bunch of kids who can probably burn down the empire state building with a piece of wood can be. But to the eyes of outsiders, it could be considered the equivalent of a mental institution in the middle of the desert during a rainstorm. Why I added the desert/rainstorm analogy I don't know…could've done without it...but oh well. As I was saying ...to any outsider, this school is a madhouse.
On this lovely September morning, a lone figure could be spotted making his way down one of the many long corridors of the school, looking all innocent and angelic in an innocent and angelic kinda way. His one defining feature, a lightning bolt shaped scar, proudly stood out on his forehead, the messy black locks of hair carefully separated so as to avoid covering that one spot…for he secretly loved all the attention and free cheese samples the scar provided him. Little did he know all customers shopping in wizard supermarkets got free cheese samples, poor bastard.
Harry Potter was the hero of the wizarding world. He who destroyed He Who Must Not Be Named. The Boy Who Lived. The kid with the scar. The head honcho. The coup de grace. Man a la Mancha. Maid in Manhattan. Richard Harris. Wait ...where was I going with this? Oh yeah ...so Harry was famous and loved by all ...cept all the evil people out to kill him.
And here is where we come to the tale of Voldemort. But since I'm not in the habit of retelling a story already told seven million times over again, I shall sum it up for you:
Parents Betrayed by rat ...literally
Voldemort evil wizard
Voldemort kill Harry's parents
Voldemort try kill Harry
Harry no die
Voldemort kinda die but not really
Harry has scar
Harry save world
So that's the kind-of coherent summary of how Harry became famous. After that it was all cake and cookies for the boy ...NOT. He's had several brushes with death, countless bad hair cuts, an extremely horrid childhood with his evil relatives, and a partridge in a pear tree ...that died ...in a car crash. Yeah. And through all these trials and tribulations, Harry Potter remained as kind and warm-hearted as ever ...unless you count his attitude in the 5th book ...the little ass monkey. But we shall not speak of that here.
Now, after many, many years at Hogwarts, Harry had learned to block out most of the insanity around him. He had learned to bottle up his feelings so well that he was able to walk through life oblivious to the feelings and actions of the people around him, for the most part. In short: he just didn't give a rat's ass. Other then that ...he was still the same old Harry.
Suddenly and without warning, a blur of red and black came pelting towards the black-haired boy, knocking him into the opposite wall.
"RON!" Harry yelled angrily, rubbing at the sore spot on his head where it smashed against the stone wall.
Ron looked around out of the corners of his eyes, smacking a hand over Harry's mouth. "Shhhhhh! Be quiet!"
Harry raised an eyebrow, his eyeballs slowly shifting to the side to try and see what Ron was looking for. "What is it?" His muffled voice sounded behind Ron's hand, lowering his voice slightly, not able to spot anything threatening nearby.
"I'm not exactly sure ...but it must be something REALLY horrible if it's gotta keep itself hidden ..." Ron slowly got to his feet, arms spread wide as if trying to shield Harry from the invisible predator.
After so many battles fought side by side, both Harry and Ron had changed slightly. Harry became a bitter and angry teen ...like there's any other kind ...and Ron went slightly…insane. He now acted suspiciously like a bodyguard, protecting Harry from all evil coming his way ...which included toothpaste tubes that have been squeezed from the bottom, shifty looking moth balls, and gingivitis. He had now taken to flossing Harry's teeth while he slept ...but of course Harry did not know that. Creepy really ...but who am I to judge.
Pushing down the urge to comment on his best friend's behavior, Harry used the wall to support himself as he tried to stand, nursing his head. "I think I have a concussion," he pointed out, as Ron rummaged in his pockets for something.
"You see what I mean!" He muttered distractedly, shaking his head disapprovingly. "You're a walking death trap! If I wasn't here to take care of you-"
Harry looked indignant, "-But it's YOUR fault I hit my he-"
"-No need to thank me," Ron grinned, making a little noise of triumph when he found what he was searching for. He pulled out a roll of yellow caution tape, wrapping it around Harry's legs and torso.
"What the HELL are you doing?" Harry looked down as his friend wrapped him in the caution tape, trying to stay balanced.
"I'm making sure everyone is careful when around you. You never know when one might feel the urge to punch the first person to walk by ...if and when that happens, people shall be a little wary when you're that first person ..." Ron explained, running out of caution tape and tying the two ends together.
Harry blinked slowly. "What?! That made absolutely no sense whatsoever."
"What was that Harry? Sorry, didn't hear you," Ron replied, standing up and brushing his hands together.
Harry had the sneaking suspicion Ron HAD heard him…and was using his power of selective hearing to block out sanity. "Just ...forget it."
"You're welcome! Oh don't worry about it ...I know I'm the best. You don't have to pay me. No, no! I insist ...keep your money. The delighted look on your face is thanks enough." Ron gave Harry a little bow, bounding down the hall towards the main staircase.
"What?!" Harry whispered to himself, deciding to use his new-found talent of blocking things out at this particular moment.
Deciding he better be on his way before Draco Malfoy turned up and began the torment, Harry began to waddle down the corridor looking like a tacky yellow mummy. Nobody seemed to think this was out of the ordinary, and they passed him without so much as a second glance. He suddenly had an overwhelming sense of pity for the poor mummy in the horror films. No wonder he was always trying to kill people! If Harry had to be stuck like this for the rest of his after-life he'd be kinda pissed too.
Finally he made it to the staircase, wondering how the hell he was going to get down them, when a horn sounded from somewhere behind him. He only had enough time to twist around to try and spot his impending doom before a skateboard came flying at his shins, knocking him over and causing him to roll down the stairs.
"ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" Harry screamed as he bounced off each step with a series of sharp pains on various parts of his body ...some more painful then others. When He landed at the bottom of the staircase, the only thing that popped into his mind was ... 'Why me?' Well duh Harry ...you're the protagonist. You're supposed to be kicked around a bit. The bright side was ...the caution tape bandages had unraveled in the fall.
A pair of legs atop a skateboard suddenly appeared in his line of vision, wearing high-tops. 'Who the hell wears high-tops?' He thought to himself, expecting to look up and see Will Smith with his crazy early 90s hair.
It was Todd ...the new guy.
"Sorry about that dude," he cocked an eyebrow and looked at Harry from over the top of his sunglasses. All the girls nearby fell over in dead faints at his overwhelming coolness ...despite his adorning of the high-tops.
Harry looked up at the cool kid, face all aglow. "No prob! I didn't need that left lung anyway!" He laughed and watched Todd roll away on his skateboard. "One day ...one day I'll be as cool as him," Harry whispered, eyes shining. "Ow! Damn excess eye fluids," he muttered, poking at his eyeball.
A few seconds later he heard his name being called and looked up to see Todd looking back at him from the doorframe, slowly rolling out on his skateboard. "Keep on trucking…" the other boy gave him a meaningful look, and the doors closed behind him soundly.
'Keep on trucking?' Harry thought to himself. 'What the hell does that mean?! Oh well ...a cool kid said it ...so it must mean something important. I shall write this in my Hello Kitty diary later ...I wonder if Todd wears boxers or briefs. Probably boxers ...all the cool kids wear boxers. I wonder where that horn sound came from when I was on top of the stairs. I mean ...he was on a skateboard ...how can he make a beeping noise on a skateboard?'
During all this inward conversing, Harry had forgotten he was lying on the bottom of the stairs, and was currently being manhandled by some first years looking for HP merchandise to sell on E-Bay.
"Gosh darn it Harry! I can't leave you alone for two seconds without you falling into a ditch in your underwear and being pissed on by dogs!" An exasperated Ron ran from the doors of the great hall towards the boy lying on the floor being fondled by first years.
Harry, holding back the urge to bitch slap the red-headed boy, let Ron untangle his legs from the caution tape and help him to his feet, but not before watching him chase away the little girls with a tennis racket.
"C'mon, breakfast is already being served and I need someone to ignore Hermione with," he led Harry along by the arm into the Great Hall, both of them making rude gestures at the Slytherin table before sitting down at their own.
At the head table all the teachers sat in one long, menacing row, their beady little eyes surveying the chattering students seated in front of them. Dumbledore sat in his high-backed chair in the centre of the table, looking all cool and powerful as only Dumby can. Professor McGonagall sat beside him, face ducked into a bowl of milk, splashing Professor Flitwick slightly as he sat beside her, perched on the many books he carried around with him everywhere he went. The students all thought these books had magic powers…but that was silly. As if magic exists! Ha!
Severus Snape, the potions professor, was hunched over his plate, staring over at Harry and stabbing a butter knife into his toast repeatedly.
"He just gets creepier every day," Ron commented as he glanced at the professor.
Harry shrugged and turned back to his food, accidentally dropping his fork on the floor. He bent down the retrieve it just as a dart came whizzing at his head from the direction of the teachers' table, just barely missing him and sticking in the opposite wall. Snape cursed under his breath and commenced stabbing his toast threateningly.
"So, does anyone know who the new Defense professor is?" Lavender inquired, nudging Ron's foot under the table and causing him to choke on his sausage. Woaw, the sexual innuendos are overflowing in that last sentence.
"No clue. I don't see any new teachers up there, unless you count that giant, three-headed monkey," Harry replied, holding a piece of toast in his hand.
"Oh that's just Marty ...he's subbing for Hagrid while he cuts his hair ...which will take a few days," Hermione piped up from behind her humungous book, her hair just peeking over the top.
Ron, looking a bit uncomfortable sitting beside Lavender, shifted slightly. "Well, maybe Lupin will come back to teach us," he shrugged once, poking Lavender's arm away from him under the table.
"That is highly unlikely, Ron. It will just be another strange adult with a dirty secret and/or agenda that will end up getting fired or being run into the woods by a pack of centaurs with a complex. The mere fact that almost every reader wants Lupin to come back is not going to make JKR do it. And if he left before because of his Lycanthropic nature, why would he come back? It is not like he's any less werewolf now then he was 3 years ago." Seamus explained, looking haughty.
Everyone just stared at him.
Just then a flock of owls charged into the room, swarming around the Irish boy and pecking him into unconsciousness.
"Ooo! The owl post's here!" Lavender clapped happily as a guy dressed as an owl walked up to their table, handing out packages.
"Strange," Hermione interjected. "I've never seen owls act like that." She tilted her head, watching the angry owl mob.
"They were only doing what everyone else wanted to do," Ron shrugged as the owl guy dropped a letter in front of him, mumbling something about caterpillars and coffee.
"Who's JKR?" Harry asked, chin propped up on his palm.
"Wasn't he the guy who created cotton swabs?" Ron asked, opening his letter.
"No, that was Leo Gerstenzang, a polish-born American who originally named the product baby gays until ..."
Ron, having set down his letter on the table and was once again eating, snorted into his cereal. "Baby Gays?" He laughed, banging on the table with a fist. "Gays! Get it? Like Gay! Baby gay! Get it? Get it?" He laughed, smacking Dean Thomas on the back.
"What are you saying Ron?" Dean gasped. "You think I'm gay? You think I like boys! You all do! You all think I'm gay! I'm not! You're all lying! You're making stories! This is a plot! A plot on my life! You're all trying to kill me by making me think I'm gay so this homosexuality will kill me in some way that I haven't thought of yet! Well it won't work! It won't!" Dean screamed and ran out of the great hall, forgetting his bag at his seat.
Ron shrugged and turned back to his cereal.
Hermione continued with her sentence, as if no one had interrupted her. "...he changed the name to Q-tips, the Q standing for Quality." She finished, disappearing behind her book again.
"I've never known anyone with as much pointless information stored in their brain as Hermione," Harry whispered to Ron, leaning across the table.
Ron nodded and suddenly rolled his eyes at something over Harry's shoulder, causing the other boy to turn around quizzically.
A young girl, clad in bright, strangely-embroidered robes, and wearing many, many shawls and beads around her neck, stood behind Harry, looking at him tragically.
"Oh god no," he muttered, quickly turning around and staring at his food.
The young girl squeezed in between Hermione and Harry, sighing heavily. "You poor, poor boy," She said mistily, patting his hand.
"Boy? Parvati, I'm older then you!" he grumbled, eyeing her.
"I see ...I see ..." she began, eyes shut and fingers resting delicately against her temples.
"Oh here she goes again ..." Lavender sighed gently, rubbing something under the table causing Ron to squeal and shift away.
"...you see Uranus?" Harry finished for her, quirking an eyebrow and causing Ron to laugh out loud.
Parvati growled, losing her misty voice. "No! Damn it Potter, we've been through this OVER AND OVER AND OVER! You ...are ...going ...to ...die ...a ...horrible ...grisly ...death!" she screamed, slamming her fist on the table with every word and causing the butter dish to go toppling over the side.
"She's worse then the real Trelawney cause she's dangerous ..." Ron commented.
"And I hear she owns a trowel ..." Hermione added.
"At least she's good looking ..." Harry pointed out, shrugging.
"You know I'm sitting right here ..." Parvati interjected, eyebrows raised.
Ever since Professor Trelawney had been stripped of her position of Divination professor in fifth year, Parvati Patil had been floating around the school, trying to keep the memory of her favorite teacher alive. She now predicted Harry's death on a regular basis, and wore ridiculously large glasses that magnified her eyes to three times its normal size. She looked kinda like Mr. Magoo ...except with hair.
"Hi guys!" A cheerful voice sounded suddenly behind Harry, making him turn once again to spot Ginny Weasley standing there.
"Virginia!" They chorused, and the theme from Cheers played in the background.
She looked around questioningly, an eyebrow raised. "Where's that music coming from?"
"Come, pull up a chair ...what can I get you?" Harry asked, wearing a grey mustache.
"Wha? Harry ...I'm too young to have alcoholic beverages ...and how did you grow facial hair in less then 3 seconds?" Ginny asked, backing away slowly.
"Gimme a'other one, JACK!" Ron, now 300 pounds, slurred drunkenly.
"Now, now Norm, I think you've had enough," Harry smiled, patting him on the head.
"Norm?" Ginny looked at her brother, eyes wide. "What the heck have you been EATING Ron?!" She asked, continuing to back away. "You know, I don't need this. I'm no longer the shy little Harry-lover I used to be! The fifth book delivered me from my timid ways! I'm a woman, hear me ROAR!" She screamed furiously, running out of the room as fast as she could.
They all watched as the red-headed girl ran out of the room, blinking stupidly.
"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked, chin propped up on his hand.
"I think she's just excited that everybody knows her name ..." Harry replied, shrugging and going back to his breakfast.
Hermione piped up from behind her book, sounding stern. "You know, you have got to stop tormenting that poor girl before she goes insane and bludgeons you to death in your sleep ..."
"...using Parvati's trowel," Harry added.
"It's NOT a trowel! It's a SHOVEL! Get it right!" Parvati pouted, collecting her things and getting to her feet. "I'm off to stalk Trelawney for a bit before class ...see you later."
"Yeah, we better get going too Ron, Harry, we don't wanna be late for our first Charms class of the year," Hermione got to her feet as well, trying to shove the huge book into her bag, causing something inside it to screech and set Lavender's hair on fire.
Ron and Harry got up as well, like the good little puppies they were, and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall, bags in tow.
"Parvati, would you mind dousing me with pumpkin juice to stop the fire from spreading to my new robes?" Lavender asked calmly, holding up the jug.
"My pleasure," Parvati replied, dumping the juice over her head and quenching the flames.
"Thanks," she answered, the two girls stepping over Seamus's body and making their way out of the room.