For British Eyes Only

Disclaimer: I don't own any material contained within this story. All copyrighted content remains the property of the person, people, or organization that holds the copyright. This story is solely for fun.

AN: This is really just a silly, little thing that I typed up because I bored. But I hope you have a laugh or two while reading it.

It was a beautiful morning at Hogwarts. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. And, in the back of the class room, Bnickel was happily nibbling on a carrot while the bunny's owner – one, Miss Charity Burbage -- was standing in front of her students, practically beaming at them as she announced the special demonstration she'd prepared for this fine morning.

"Yes, that's right students, though it's true that muggles can't technically perform magic -- through a combination of ingenuity, misdirection and a firm grasp of human psychology – some of them have learned how to perform illusions that can seem every bit as magical as the spells many of you are learning in your other classes. And, as a special treat, since you all did so well on your midterms, I've arranged for one of these 'magicians' to demonstrate this unique form of 'muggle magic'."

No sooner had Charity finished this announcement than Hermione's hand shot upwards.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Charity called, "you have a question?"

"Do you mean that you've actually brought a muggle here? To Hogwarts?" the student asked in wide-eyed surprise.

"Yes, I have, two in fact. … But don't worry. Both the magician and his assistant agreed to be blindfolded while I brought them here and for their return trip. They will see nothing beyond this one classroom, so the secret of Hogwart's existence is not in any danger. Needless to say, however, that my personal embargo against any of you using magic in my class goes double for today. Now, before I bring them in, there's a couple of other things we need to cover, just to be on the safe side."

While Charity was busy preparing her class, the magician and his assistant were standing outside the classroom. They were still blindfolded, so they couldn't see anything. But they could still hear… and talk. And talk they did.

"Hey, why do you think we need these blindfolds anyway?" 'Baby' Buster asked.

"I don't know. It's probably some secret British school for wealthy kids and they don't want anyone from out of the country to know where it is for security reasons… or something," Gob answered.

Feminine voice over: "For British eyes only."

"Okay," Charity said as she opened the classroom door, "We're all ready for you."

"Thank goodness," Buster commented as his one good hand reached for his blindfold.

Charity was quick to bat it away with her wand, which doubled as her teacher's pointer. "Not yet, you need to keep the blindfolds on until you're actually in the classroom," she instructed as the Bluth's baby shook his hand as if it'd been stung, though in truth Charity's strike had been nothing more than a light tap.

Charity led the two muggles inside and removed their blindfolds while Potter closed the classroom door.

"Okay, kids, are you ready for some… magic!" Gob exclaimed as he flourished his hands, activating a hidden contraption that was suppose to shoot out a small flame from his wrists. Unfortunately, the less than competent magician still hadn't bothered to replace his flint, and instead of a short blast of flame, a longer stream of lighter fluid shot out, spraying three of the students in the front row.

Gob looked quizzically at his wrists for a second. "I've gotta remember to buy a new flint," he commented under his breath before continuing in a louder voice, "Even still... where'd the lighter fluid come from?"

The Hogwarts students just stared strangely at each other, and Gob, realizing that he was already getting into trouble with his audience, turned to Charity. "You got what I shipped you, right," he whispered; and the witch pointed to a large crate in the corner of the room. "Perfect. Alright Buster, start the tape."

"Oh yes, oh," Buster mumbled as he reached into the bag he'd been carrying and pulled out a battery powered boom-box. He fiddled with it for a moment. "Ah, there we go."

"It ain't easy bein' white."

"It ain't easy bein' brown."

Once again the students cast each other sideways glances, as the strange song began to play.

"No, Buster," Gob instructed, "hit CD2." Buster did, and the song switched.

"It's the final countdown."

"And now, students, prepare to see an illusion the likes of which you've never imagined," Gob boasted as both him and Buster gyrated to the music in a bizarre display.

"Buster," Gob called out of the side of his face, "the crate."

"Huh?" was the Bluth baby's confused reply.

"Open the crate," the magician growled.

"Oh, yes."

And as Buster moved over to the large, wooden crate, Gob attempted to keep the kids occupied by dancing some more and tossing playing cards in their general direction.

"The final countdown."

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for – the Aztec Tomb!" Gob exclaimed as he motioned to the crate.

And for once the magician had his timing down, for at that very moment Buster succeeded in prying off the top of the crate and the sides came tumbling down to reveal its contents. Unfortunately, there'd been a mix-up at the airport and Gob's crate -- entering England -- had gotten confused with another, similarly sized crate on its way out of England.

"The Aztec Tomb?" one of the students questioned.

"Yes," Gob replied as he began to turn towards where he assumed his pride and joy would be resting. "The Az-…" Uh, the magician paused as he saw what had really been in the crate. "-bony Coffin," he corrected, trying to cover up the error. "Yes, that's right, the Ebony Coffin. And now, my assistant will enter the Ebony Coffin and… ah, DISAPPEAR!"

"It's the final countdown."

Gob walked over to Buster, however the latter seemed reluctant to go along with the changed trick. "I'm not getting in there. That thing's is creeeeeeepy."

"What's the matter, Homo," the elder brother taunted, "Are you afraid? Are you a chicken?" Suddenly Gob leaned forward and began clapping his hands together as his feet kicked back wildly. "Cock-a-caw! Cock-a-caw! Cock-a-caw!"

Off to the side, Charity grumbled, "I've made a huge mistake," under her breath.

"I-I'm not a chicken," Buster protested.

But his brother just continued to taunt him. "Cock-a-caw! Cock-a-caw! Cock-a-caw!"

And soon, to prove to his brother that he wasn't a chicken, Baby Buster opened up the coffin and stepped inside. "Here! See, I'm not a chicken!"

Gob stopped his rather unique chicken impersonation almost instantly and walked over to his little brother. "Alright," the magician whispered, "Here's the plan. I'm going to turn this thing around twice. The second time around, I'll hesitate for an extra second, like the coffin's stuck or something. That's when you crack it open and dive behind the desk, got it?"

"Gob, I don't think this is going to work."

"No," the magician insisted. "It'll work – it has to. Oh, and…"

"Yeah, but they're going to see me whe-"

Buster never did finish that statement, for Gob drew his arm back and punched his brother in the chest – HARD. "Now, when you do this without getting punched in the chest you'll have more fun." And with that, he closed the coffin lid and began to spin the strange, black coffin around. However, something most unexpected happened. The coffin, apparently, became restless, for it began to shake and jump around almost as if it were possessed.

Charity could tell that some of her students were getting nervous, and she tried to reassure them. "Don't worry. I'm sure it's all part of the trick."

"Illusion!" Gob corrected loudly as he stepped away from the bizarre, bouncing coffin. "And this isn't part of any illusion of mine."

Just then, the coffin fell over. Then it levitated off the floor, spun around like a compass arrow and took off, flying right through the wall of the building. The lid cracked open, and Buster's terrified screams could be heard coming from the quickly departing black box.

And Gob, desperate for some chance to save his show reached into the bag he and Buster had brought and pulled out a black puppet. "Hey, kids, look! It's our old pal Franklin!"

The students and teacher just glared at the muggle magician, and the puppet's head turned to face Gob. "Damn, Honky! You in BIG trouble!"

Meanwhile, Buster was now sitting up in the, now open, flying coffin and desperately holding on for dear life as it carried him away to God only knew where.

In the Next Chapter:

The location of Gob's trick tomb is revealed.

"Police Girl, is this your idea of a joke?"

And Franklin turns spy for Voldemort.

"Hmmm, you'll need a code name. … I've got it – Mr. F."

Feminine voice over: "Mr. F!"

Yeah, not my best work. But hey, I was bored. :P Hopefully someone out there in fanfiction land got some enjoyment out of it though. Reviews, as always are apreciated... though I'm not expecting a big return on this one.

Oh, and just to clarify, there is no second chapter. That was just a joke for Arrested Development's 'next time' bit.

PS: Charity's characterization and her pet bunny, Bnickel, are taken from Lion in the Land's Harry Potter fic, "Professor Burbage and the Potions Master".

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.