Chapter 1 : Randomness and Mashed Potatoes
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Harry and Hermione walked through Hogsmeade, perusing the shops for school supplies. They were interrupted, however, when the people of Hogsmeade started… singing?
“Good news! He's dead!/The Headmaster of Hogwarts is dead!/The wickedest wizard there ever was/The enemy of all of us, he was/Is Dead!/Good news!/Good news!”
Hermione and Harry raised their eyebrows at each other.
“What are they talking about?” Harry asked Hermione.
“No idea,” Hermione replied. “Let’s find out. Mind you, we must be subtle about our interest.”
“Well, they obviously hate Dumbley, so…”
The duo then turned their gaze back to this group of lunatics.
“Er…” Harry said. He was at a loss of words. Luckily, Hermione, being cool headed, took over.
“What the Hell are you talking about?” Hermione asked the crowd.
“Very subtle,” Harry said, nodding with approval. “You’d make a good auror.” Hermione blushed with happiness. She always knew she’d make a good auror. There was no doubt in her mind that her interrogation skills were above extraordinary.
The people of Hogsmeade turned to stare at Harry and Hermione.
“Don’t you know?” they asked them in unison.
“Er, no,” Harry said apologetically.
“Well, you see, Dumbledore has died!”
“What?” Harry and Hermione gasped, horrorstruck.
“Oh, don’t worry,” said a village person, with a wave of her hand. “He was actually Lord Voldemort in disguise.”
“No, really. Not only that, but you know your friend Ron?”
“Well, Dumbledore’s actually Ron’s future self.”
“What?!” Hermione exclaimed. “Where did you come up with that crap?”
“Their eyes,” the person said knowingly. “They had the same colored eyes.”
“That doesn’t make sense!” Hermione cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She then pulled them down and across her chest, where her small breasts had suddenly become huge, causing her immense amount of cleavage to be seen through her now suddenly skimpy shirt. She then ran a finger through her hair, which had somehow become thick, luscious curls of golden blonde.
“Oh, but it does,” the villager replied.
Hermione threw up her arms again and then grabbed Harry, apparating them to Hogwarts, despite the fact that this was impossible.
Hermione and Harry walked into the Great Hall. The room erupted in… song?
“Look! It's Harry!” someone screamed from the crowd. Harry stared at the crowd. Hermione pushed him and whispered, “They want you to talk!”
“Er…” Harry decided to break out in song, as well. After all, he felt this was the only way to speak with this pack of idiots. “Let us be glad/Let us be grateful/Let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue/The wicked workings of you-know-who/Isn't it nice to know/ That good will conquer evil?/The truth we all believe'll by and by/Outlive a lie/For you and – ”
“Harry!” Hermione interrupted. “What are you doing?”
Harry, scowling, walked over to Hermione. “What is it? I was on a roll there…”
“You are acting like Dumbledore is evil! Even worse… you said… rejoicify.” Hermione shuddered.
“Oh, Hermione,” Harry said chuckling. “I’m just trying to relate to the people. Now, if you excuse me, my fans await.” But, before Harry could continue, the Hall erupted once again in music.
“No one mourns the Wicked/No one cries ‘They won't return!’/No one lays a lily on their grave.”
“What is it?” Hermione asked.
“Lily,” he said laughing. “They said ‘lily.’ My mum’s name was Lily. Lay a lily on his grave. Ha ha.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. This is what happens to the famous. They go insane. Thank God she wasn’t famous and was just, smart (genius even), not cocky, Hermione.
“The good man scorns the Wicked!” the students sang. “Through their lives, we students learn/What we miss, when we misbehave.”
Harry, angry at being ignored, cut in. “And Goodness knows/The Wicked's lives are lonely/Goodness knows/The Wicked die alone/It just shows when you're Wicked/You're left only/On your own.”
“Oh, God,” Hermione said. “Please help us. Everyone has gone insane.”
The students of Hogwarts continued singing. “Yes, Goodness knows/The Wicked's lives are lonely/Goodness knows/The Wicked cry alone/Nothing grows for the Wicked/They reap only/What they've sown.”
Harry stood on top of a chair, and addressed the crowd. “Are people born Wicked? Or do they have Wickedness thrust upon them?”
“Oh, God,” said Hermione. “No. Do not let Harry get philosophical. Regular Harry is scary enough right now. What are you trying to do to me?” she yelled at the ceiling. Somehow, no one heard her scream.
“After all, he had a father. He had a mother, as so many do.”
“No, really?” Hermione said, frustrated. What the Hell was wrong with him?
Then, Harry went back to singing, trying to impersonate a father, a mother, a secret lover, and a midwife. Hermione wasn’t sure if she should stab him or just throw him across the hall.
“How I hate to go and leave you lonely,” Harry said, pretending to be the father. He then turned into the mother. “That's alright - it's only just one night.” Back to father. “But know that you're here in my heart/While I'm out of your sight.”
Before continuing, Harry explained, “And like every family - they had their secrets…” he then went on to pretend to be the singing lover. “Have another drink, my dark-eyed beauty/I've got one more night left, here in town/So have another drink of green elixir/And we'll have ourselves a little mixer/Have another swallow, little lady/And follow me down. ”
“Harry,” Hermione cried, aghast. “Ew…”
Harry shrugged, and then addressed the crowd once more. “And of course, from the moment he was born, he was - well – different…”
Harry stole Madame Pomfrey’s hat and pretended to be the midwife. “It's coming.” Back to father. “Now?” Back to midwife. “The baby's coming. ” Back to father. “And how!” Next, he pretended to be the midwife and the father (by now, his impersonations were starting to piss off Hermione, for, although he was convinced he was, Harry had no career in acting, let alone Broadway). “I see a nose/I see a curl/It's a healthy, perfect/Lovely, little…” Now he was only the father. “Sweet Oz!”
“Oz?” Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. “Since when do we live in Oz?”
“Shh…” Harry said, wagging a finger at her. “Don’t interrupt my work of art. Now, back to my performance…” He then pretended to be the mother, putting on a voice that sounded almost a high as Ron’s when he was scared.
“What is it?; what's wrong? ” Back to the midwife… (sigh) “How can it be?” Father: “What does it mean?” Midwife: “It's atrocious. ” Father: “It's obscene!” Midwife and father (Hermione now held a potato in her hand, which she was debating on throwing at Harry): “Like a froggy, ferny cabbage/The baby is unnaturally green!”
“What the Hell?” Hermione cried. “Dumbledore wasn’t green!”
“Of course he was,” Harry said matter of factly. “He had to have been. Because, green is a magic color. If he wasn’t green, then he wouldn’t have been important. Take for example my eyes and the curse that didn’t kill me.”
“So, let me get this right,” Hermione said angrily. “To be special, you have to be green?”
“See,” said Harry happily. “You’re not quiet as dumb as you look.”
“Okay, that’s it!” Hermione cried. She flung the potato at him. Harry stared at her in shock, covered in potato.
He rose his wand and cried, “Avada Kedavra,” and, yes, I am sorry to say someone died. But, it was not Hermione, for Harry’s eyes had been covered in potato, and his wand had been pointing at Malfoy.
Harry wiped his eyes clean, and saw that Malfoy was dead. Hermione had expected him to be happy, but to her horror, he broke down in tears.
“What’s wrong with you?” Hermione cried. “You just killed Malfoy!”
“I know,” Harry bawled. “I just realized now that I love him!”
“I mean, look at him. He had blonde hair, and blue eyes, and is cute.”
“But you hate each other! You’ve wanted one another dead since you met!” Hermione screamed at him.
“Yes,” Harry said in a knowingly way, “but, if you fight with someone it means that you’re madly in love with them. And I now realize that Draco was my soulmate!”
“Oh. My. God.” Hermione closed her eyes. “This isn’t happening. YOU FREAK!”
“I’m not a freak!” Harry yelled at Hermione. “You’re just jealous because I have a pretty cut in my head that makes me go crazy and you don’t!”
Hermione stared at him and then shook her head. “I think,” she said, “it’s time for a new chapter, because if we stay in this one, I just may well have to kill you.”
Muahaha. Randomness! Review, please! And note, I told you it was going to be random...hahaha...heh.