Dedication: To my hopefully-not-dead dearest darling, umm, long-lost, much loved, slightly lesser-evil, cow-powerful female twin with a forehead of average proportions and a tendency to ramble. Here. I wrote a story with Twisties and a double grave, just for you. It will never reach your high standard of random, but I gave it a shot, now I'll jump in a pot, dwiddle daddle pumpkin. Love always (in the least sexual way possible), your thick long-lost, slightly-more evil, super-special twin with cow-related super powers and a tendency to quack while on my head (aka. Coco, or as I am now known, Elle - refer to the PM I sent) xx.
Note: I suggest reading Founding Hogwarts first. Um, please. By Rufus T. Firefly. Please. Not necessary. But. Please. Read it. This one, though... It's set somewhere between chapters 17 and possibly 21 of the aforementioned fic. At least I think so. Oh Hell, I don't even know.
There was something about cupboards and Slytherin that just seemed to...mesh. Which is why Rowena Ravenclaw, intelligent founder of Hogwarts (or was it Hogswash? She could never remember), brave and noble young adult, could all but form a sentence as she once again found herself face-to-chin with one pale, apparently-not-inebriated-enough-to-ever-be-near, co-founder.
'Well, hello Rowena. I thought it might be you. You always pop up when I'm hiding in a cupboard. It's almost like you have a fetish for it. Or maybe you can just smell the situation from afar and come a-running.'
'What is this, the fourth cupboard rendezvous we've had in the past half-decade?'
'Bugger. Bottom. Bother.' She reached for the door. The only way out of this disastrous situation was to flee. Quickly. Very quickly, and fluidly, and... and right now. He may not have even noticed her yet. The door didn't give under her weight. And certainly her hair alone must have been at least a few pounds, what with all the brown, and curls and... stuff. With the sort of crazed madness of a cow stuck on a boat (which is really quite crazy, if you've ever witnessed it), Rowena threw herself at the wood (was it oak? Ro thought it might be oak) and squealed.
'Dear God. Calm down, you fool. You'll have us topple over like last time!'
She probably should have listened to him. Actually, there were possibly dozens of things she should have done rather than launch herself at the inner frame of that retched cupboard. Like perhaps calmly assess the situation and... To Hell with it. Yes, she did the right thing.
The cupboard groaned along with Rowena as her vision went blotchy. Not that she could notice. It really was very, very dark in that cupboard. A loud ripping noise split the half-silence and they began to tip. Before they knew it, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin were in a double coffin. A very dusty double coffin. And Rowena had no wand.
Ah, just like old times.
'Now you've done it.'
'My, you certainly are very articulate tonight.'
'Oh, shut up...you.' Ro glared at herself. Way to go.
'It must really be hard for you, having to come up with new names for me on the spot. I really don't know what I'd do without my list-'
'Be quiet, you tit-witch.'
'I do believe you've used that one.'
She took a deep breath and tried to gain her bearings – although, what bearings you can possibly get while being flattened under a certain git in a small, cramped, oak cupboard I have no idea.
'You have a very bony shoulder, Ravenclaw.'
'You have a bony nose. And it's digging into my back!'
'You know, I think this is how rats do it.'
Ro wriggled like crazy. 'Get off me, you pillock! I can't breath!'
Much more wriggling commenced.
'Ow! That's my nipple!'
'Watch the hair!'
'Rowena, don't move that knee!'
'Gah! Get your hands off me!'
Cramped, dusty silence.
'Do you also have a sever case of déjà vu?'
'I know!' he sung. 'Let's play a-'
'Yes, you lanky, pale, smug, cynical, heartless, greasy, big nosed rat arse with a very active tongue?'
'Well, that's better.'
'Shut it. I've had time to think.'
'Oh, hum. You're actually cutting off my circulation.'
'Yes, sorry.' Rowena shifted her weight away from the lanky, pale, smug, cynical, heartless, greasy, big nosed rat arse with a very active tongue's throat and found a gap big enough to put her elbow in. Once again, that phrase ran through her head. Bloody Slytherin.
'What was that about me and blood?'
The mind reeled. Was he really actually reading her thoughts. 'Nothing for your ears, you git.'
She could see his eyebrows drift upwards, even though it was pitch black. They were just that noticeable. 'Git? What happened to the lanky, pale, smug-'
'Nothing happened to it. It just went...err, on holidays.' A pause. 'To Jamaica.'
'Ah. Yes. One of those holidays.'
'Ro, are you going to talk to me.'
'Ho dee he hummm....'
'Stop humming, you annoying-'
'Yes...arse. Sure. Why not.'
Salazar shuffled around a bit more. Rowena couldn't tell which body part, nor from where to where, but she did know that her arm was crushed against his chest, somewhere above her nose was his throat and the man really did have long legs.
'Do you even have something to say? Because I really could do with a bit of entertaining right now. Getting stuck in a cupboard with you is getting old.'
'What the hell were you doing in here anyway?'
Salazar shrugged, leaving an uncomfortable feeling on her left cheek. 'I was hiding actually.'
'He- ... nobody.'
If there had have been light in that cupboard, which there wasn't, and if he'd have been a tad closer to Rowena's face, thank the Cupboard Gods he wasn't, Salazar Slytherin would have seen her crack a smile so large it was frightening.
'You were hiding from Heather, weren't you?'
'I knew it.'
'No, Rowena. It is not what you think.'
'It couldn't be further- ... okay?'
'I believe you, Slytherin, you slimy, smelly git. You just simply wanted to stand in a cupboard waiting for the perfect moment at which I would throw myself inside, unknowingly, and proceed to loose my mind.'
'Yes. That's exactly right.'
'Well, what were you doing in throwing yourself into cupboards? Didn't your parents ever teach you to check in case somebody else already inhabited it? God. Wouldn't you have figured out by now that whenever you are in a cupboard, I am too?'
'No reason to make it sound so...normal.'
'Nothing between you and I is normal.'
'You want me.'
'If I wanted you, you'd be nude.'
'That can be arranged.'
'Keep your pants on.'
'Why are you in my cupboard?'
'Who said it is your cupboard?'
She could sense the eyebrows rising smugly. 'I said.'
'I bit a third year and had to hide before he realised his so-called Headmistress was attacking him with her teeth.'
'You bit a student?'
'You would too, if he called you a stupid goose.'
'A stupid goose?'
'Yes! A stupid goose! Not that you would know. I don't even think you talk to the students. Only pick the evil, big-foreheaded ones and become and item, leaving the rest of us miserable Headpeople to actually do Headpeople business.'
'I'm sorry you're jealous.'
'What?' Rowena froze so quickly Antarctica got jealous.
'I'm sorry you're jealous.'
'Jealous? Why would I be jealous? You are a git and I have no intentions of doing it like a rat with you.'
'Um, I was actually referring to the part where you said she was evil and big-foreheaded.'
'I don't want a big forehead.'
'Yes you do.'
'No. I don't.'
'Um, Salazar?' Rowena fidgeted. There was only silence. 'Salazar?'
'Christ, woman. I thought you wanted me shushed.'
'Um. No. I'm getting a bit lonely.'
'How much longer will we be in this death trap?'
'I have no idea, Sally. I didn't bring my wand.'
'Yes, Twisties. Do you have a problem with them?'
'No, Rowena. I just think it is a silly idea to call a snack food of the future Twisties.'
'Well, I think it's a great idea. I foresaw it succeeding.'
'Well, what would you call a snack food?'
'I don't know. I have more interesting ideas for my future. Owning a snack food chain is not one of them.'
'Eurgh, I hate you. You decided to play this game in the first place.'
'Yes. I guess you're right.'
'Neurgh-gahhhhh!' Salazar laughed and made it feel like the world was caving in. Ro glowered at his neck.
'I couldn't resist.'
He yawned and did what could appropriately be called a stretch. Although, stretching was quite limited in a cramped, dusty, co-founder filled cupboard.
'Well, I've had my fun now.'
'Good. Go away.'
'Umm, okay. Could you get my wand for me? It's in my pocket.'
'My wand, Rowena?'
'You – you've had a wand all this time?'
'You little snot! Gimmie!' Rowena lunged (okay, so it wasn't really a lung, she was on top of him, for heaven's sake. But it could probably be called a rough grab) at the offender and manically reached for the wand.
'Whoa! No, not there. No – in my pocket you idiot. That's my waistband! Other side!'
'Got it!' Rowena puffed, holding up the stick and successfully poking him in the eye.
'You deserved that one, you prick.'
'Here, give me that.'
Salazar waved his wand and the back of the cupboard shot away. Rowena scrambled to get out as fast as she could. She tripped over the edge of the blasted piece of furniture and went a-sprawling. But the woman could not be stopped. She crawled on her hands and feet out the door and into the depths of the castle.
A little Spanish man in her head sung.
Note: Ah-ha... *awkward silence*. Yes, well, I wrote that in about...23 minutes. So please, ignore me. I'd like to point out I tried my hardest not to plagiarise anything ('lanky, pale, smug, cynical, heartless, greasy, big nosed rat arse with a very active tongue' description remains property of Rufus, however. And I don't own Twisties, as fabulous as that idea was). And although I'm not going to reach the epicnessdom of Rufus herself, fanfiction fanfiction isn't designed to be as equally awesome as the original fanfiction. Rambling.
Cheers for reading. And pop over to Founding Hogwarts (my favourites) if you can, and if you already have, read Losing Hogwarts (the sequel). And if you've already read those... good on you. Go for a walk and... I dunno, read them again!
Everybody who reviews gets to be locked in a cupboard with a fictional HP character of their own choosing :D