Author's Notes: This show. Freaks. Me. Out. My little cousins are obsessed… and it terrifies me for the sake of our future generations.
Interlude: Dora the Explorer
Harry woke to the sound of…someone speaking Spanish? He slowly pulled the curtains from around his bed and took a moment to be properly astonished at the sight in the middle of the boys' dormitory.
It was a young girl, Hispanic in origin, with an unnecessarily large purple backpack and a monkey. That was wearing boots.
At a glance, Harry noticed that the other boys were already awake, staring at the pair with undisguised fascination/horror.
"Ay Dios mio!" The girl cried. "Do you know the way to Marijuana City, Boots?"
"No I don't, Dora," said the monkey.
"No need to panic, mate," Ron murmured slowly, "But I think that monkey just talked."
"Is this some sort of ploy of Voldemort's?" Harry asked, glancing around for death or despair of any kind.
"If we don't get to Marijuana City before Swiper, he's going to take all ganja!"
"Well, let's ask the Map!" The monkey suggested, looking overly pleased with the suggestion. "It's in your… backpack!"
The music came from nowhere, but it shook all of the boys out of their beds and into a huddle in the corner. Neville's pants were wet.
"Backpack, backpack," sung the—the thing on the girl's back. "I am a backpack, boop boop boop. Check out this map!"
Harry tried to tear his eyes away, but he couldn't. All he could see was the map, as it presented him with aesthetically pleasing visuals of the journey that the girl and her freakish talking monkey were about to embark on.
As the map popped itself back into the purple Bag of Death, Dora turned to the boys. "Do you remember how to get to Marijuana City?" She asked, and gave a sufficient amount of time—which was spent largely by blinking in silence, on the part of both parties—until she said. "That's right! First we go to the Land of Blow, then through the River of Jose Cuervo, and finally over the Mountain of LSD!"
"Thanks for your help," Boots said.
Ron's voice trembled as he spoke. "Who are you?" He asked.
"I'm Dora!" The girl said, her voice high and excited. "And this is Boots! And this is my Backpack! And these are my shoes! And this is my quest: to get to Marijuana City and smoke all the hash I possibly can before Swiper the Fox gets his dirty little paws on my hallucinogen."
"Oh," Ron said, weakly.
Then suddenly, without any explanation, a white-ish, yellow-ish fox burst through the door. Dora gasped. "Swiper, no swiping!" She cried. "Maybe you guys can help us. Do you see which direction Swiper is going?"
There was another long silence, filled with much blinking and bewilderment.
"That's right!" Boots cried after the moment had ended. "He's going through the window! Hurry, Dora! We've got to get to Marijuana City before Swiper!"
"But how do we get out of the window without crashing to our bloody deaths?" Dora wondered aloud.
Harry offered timidly, "Um, I could help you with magic."
Dora and Boots blinked at him. "GREAT IDEA!" Dora shouted after a moment. "We'll use the parachutes that I just happened to pack this morning when I was filling my backpack but miscellaneous but still conceivably useful objects! Gracias!"
"I… don't speak Spanish," Harry admitted.
But they were already gone, like two hurried angels. The girl and her monkey were out of the window, floating down towards the ground with cheerful cries of "backpack, backpack" and "que divertido!"
The boys were quiet for a long time, blinking.
Then, in a relieved sort of voice, Seamus said: "Well, mates, I think we might have gone a little overboard with the Firewhiskey last night, eh?"
And they all laughed, like the very best friends they were.