A/N I don't own anybody, J.K. Rowling does. I bet she doesn't have as much
problems with them as we did. Just let me warn you, Harry can be somewhat
of a nincompoop when under someone else's authority. Maybe that is why all
the characters are strangely OOC….
* * * * * * * * * * * (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: * * * * * * * * * * *
It is a bright sunny day on the Hogwarts grounds. As we look in now,
Harry is outside, trying to get in touch with his mother nature side.
"Who are you?" Harry hisses suddenly. "You don't look a thing like J. K.
Rowling!"
Harry is right. I am not J.K. Rowling. Too bad.
"I am the almighty narrator of this story. Your life is mine to command."
"Oh whatever." Harry snaps, going back to watch the butterflies fly among
the flowers.
However, a thought suddenly comes to him. "I'm bored." He says out loud,
finally standing up. "I think I'll go for an adventure!"
Because Harry is bored, he decides to go out for an adventure.
"Baaahhh, didn't I just say that?" Harry asks, a little irritated.
"Yes, but I have to repeat it because I am the almighty narrator of this
story."
So Harry walks on, mumbling to himself. It is not long before he finds
himself at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It is here the adventure
begins, with the single discovery of the feather.
"What feather?" Harry asks, in a moment of panic.
I repeat. The adventure began, with the single discovery of the very
visible feather.
"Oh." Harry remarks, picking up the gray feather. "This feather."
"Yes. That feather."
Harry rolls his eyes. "Original. ..aren't you?"
"Better believe it. So anyway. On with the adventure. "
Harry, having found the feather that would start the adventure, comes up
with a very clever plan indeed.
Harry brightens, "I'll go ask Hermione...she'll know… or one of the books
will..?"
That's right. Harry bounds off towards the castle, He will go ask Hermione
about the gray feather.
Harry bellows, running into the Gryffindor's common room, "HERMIONE!!"
Because this story is suppose to be exciting, and I haven't used the word
suddenly in a while, Harry suddenly turns around, only to find Hermione in
the evil, never failing grasp of Crookshanks!
"What?" Harry asks, very dismayed. "There is no way in Diagon Alley that
THAT is Crookshanks," he yells, pointing at the short, plump wizard with long
ginger hair holding Hermione.
"That is Crookshanks and there is nothing you can do about it."
"Crookshanks is a CAT, not a wizard," Harry says, putting his hands on his
hips.
"Hermione's life is at stake here..."
"I'm just not going to be apart of this if it won't make sense." Harry
mutters, turning around and throwing the feather to the ground.
"So you think. Everyone knows that you do not mess with the almighty
narrator of the story."
"Is that a threat?" Harry asks, turning around.
Suddenly, out of no where, Dudley appears on top of Harry, utterly
confused but nevertheless, squishing Harry into the floor.
"Do you believe me now? That is Crookshanks, and I am the almighty
narrator of this story."
"Annnnthin'," Harry manages to gasp out. "Just… geroff…"
With a cloud of blue lightning, Dudley disappears to Privet Drive just in
time to miss Crookshank's speech.
"Guubbbuuhhh, Gooolldddllleee, Grrannnaa." Crookshanks begins evily.
"Wait!" Harry says franticly. "I don't speak Gobbledegoop!"
Harry does not speak Gobbledegoop. Neither does Hermione, for that
matter. Neither do I for that matter.
Suddenly, unnoticed by everyone until now, the random guy in the red cloak
steps up. "I speak Gobbledegoop," he says matter-of-factly.
"Well don't just stand there, start translating!"
Crookshanks, slightly upset at the delay of his speech, begins again to
speak in his native tongue, gobbledegoop, being translated by the random guy
in the red cloak.
"For years I have been in my cat form. Now as an animage, I come before
you today to demand," he pauses for a dramatic moment. "To demand that
you give me the feathers from the bird in which you found your feather."
"Or?" Harry asks, in a very challenging mood.
"Grabba Gradda." Crookshanks hisses.
"Or else Herm-o-one dies," The red cloaked man hisses.
"Her-my-oh-nee!" Hermione corrects, bouncing up and down due to her
foot being asleep, in the deadly grasp of Crookshanks.
Harry, feeling very brave, jumps up to accept the challenge.
"No I don't." Harry interrupts, folding his arms. "I don't know what bird
he's talking about. How am I suppose to get it?"
"Because you do that type of thing when you are feeling brave. And if I
haven't made it known yet, I *am* the almighty narrator of this story"
Harry frowns sulkily, shuffling his feat towards Crookshanks. "But-"
"Fine then."
Suddenly, the brave and mighty trio jump into the commonroom to aid
Harry, who is in dire need of help!
"Fear not, Harry!"
"Consider things taken care of."
The voices of the Weasley twins reach the scene.
"Oy! Stand back!" Lee Jordan demands, holding a very large pillow.
Harry looks upon the scene, getting a tad bit annoyed. "Since when am I in
dire need of help?"
However, Harry's voice is unheard over the giant walloping noise as Lee
brings down the giant pillow over Crookshanks' head.
"Mrow!" the random guy in the red cloak translates for Crookshanks, as
small white feathers fall around the busted pillow.
"Grabb—"
"You have found the feathers for my own feather pillow!" The red-cloaked
guy announces. "For this I will always be grateful!" He looks around, a little
embarrassed. "Or so the cat says."
Crookshanks looks around, having turned back into a cat. Making sure his
pillow bed is safe, he takes the time to thank the heroes by rubbing against
Fred's leg with affection.
"Wait a minute," Harry interrupts, as usual. "I'm suppose to be the hero of
these stories!"
"But you aren't my favorite character. These guys are."
Before Harry can reply, Hermione looks around in horror. "My pillow! My
favorite pillow!"
Lee glances at the twins, who suddenly decide that the dorms is a good
place to be. The brave, wonderful, almighty trio dart away, leaving Harry to
clean up the spare feathers Crookshanks won't use.
As for everyone else, they live happily ever after.
"Happily ever after? Cleaning up feathers?" Harry narrows his eyes,
folding his arms in an unhappy manner.
"Think Dudley in a dementor robe."
"….And we all live happily ever after."
problems with them as we did. Just let me warn you, Harry can be somewhat
of a nincompoop when under someone else's authority. Maybe that is why all
the characters are strangely OOC….
* * * * * * * * * * * (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: * * * * * * * * * * *
It is a bright sunny day on the Hogwarts grounds. As we look in now,
Harry is outside, trying to get in touch with his mother nature side.
"Who are you?" Harry hisses suddenly. "You don't look a thing like J. K.
Rowling!"
Harry is right. I am not J.K. Rowling. Too bad.
"I am the almighty narrator of this story. Your life is mine to command."
"Oh whatever." Harry snaps, going back to watch the butterflies fly among
the flowers.
However, a thought suddenly comes to him. "I'm bored." He says out loud,
finally standing up. "I think I'll go for an adventure!"
Because Harry is bored, he decides to go out for an adventure.
"Baaahhh, didn't I just say that?" Harry asks, a little irritated.
"Yes, but I have to repeat it because I am the almighty narrator of this
story."
So Harry walks on, mumbling to himself. It is not long before he finds
himself at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It is here the adventure
begins, with the single discovery of the feather.
"What feather?" Harry asks, in a moment of panic.
I repeat. The adventure began, with the single discovery of the very
visible feather.
"Oh." Harry remarks, picking up the gray feather. "This feather."
"Yes. That feather."
Harry rolls his eyes. "Original. ..aren't you?"
"Better believe it. So anyway. On with the adventure. "
Harry, having found the feather that would start the adventure, comes up
with a very clever plan indeed.
Harry brightens, "I'll go ask Hermione...she'll know… or one of the books
will..?"
That's right. Harry bounds off towards the castle, He will go ask Hermione
about the gray feather.
Harry bellows, running into the Gryffindor's common room, "HERMIONE!!"
Because this story is suppose to be exciting, and I haven't used the word
suddenly in a while, Harry suddenly turns around, only to find Hermione in
the evil, never failing grasp of Crookshanks!
"What?" Harry asks, very dismayed. "There is no way in Diagon Alley that
THAT is Crookshanks," he yells, pointing at the short, plump wizard with long
ginger hair holding Hermione.
"That is Crookshanks and there is nothing you can do about it."
"Crookshanks is a CAT, not a wizard," Harry says, putting his hands on his
hips.
"Hermione's life is at stake here..."
"I'm just not going to be apart of this if it won't make sense." Harry
mutters, turning around and throwing the feather to the ground.
"So you think. Everyone knows that you do not mess with the almighty
narrator of the story."
"Is that a threat?" Harry asks, turning around.
Suddenly, out of no where, Dudley appears on top of Harry, utterly
confused but nevertheless, squishing Harry into the floor.
"Do you believe me now? That is Crookshanks, and I am the almighty
narrator of this story."
"Annnnthin'," Harry manages to gasp out. "Just… geroff…"
With a cloud of blue lightning, Dudley disappears to Privet Drive just in
time to miss Crookshank's speech.
"Guubbbuuhhh, Gooolldddllleee, Grrannnaa." Crookshanks begins evily.
"Wait!" Harry says franticly. "I don't speak Gobbledegoop!"
Harry does not speak Gobbledegoop. Neither does Hermione, for that
matter. Neither do I for that matter.
Suddenly, unnoticed by everyone until now, the random guy in the red cloak
steps up. "I speak Gobbledegoop," he says matter-of-factly.
"Well don't just stand there, start translating!"
Crookshanks, slightly upset at the delay of his speech, begins again to
speak in his native tongue, gobbledegoop, being translated by the random guy
in the red cloak.
"For years I have been in my cat form. Now as an animage, I come before
you today to demand," he pauses for a dramatic moment. "To demand that
you give me the feathers from the bird in which you found your feather."
"Or?" Harry asks, in a very challenging mood.
"Grabba Gradda." Crookshanks hisses.
"Or else Herm-o-one dies," The red cloaked man hisses.
"Her-my-oh-nee!" Hermione corrects, bouncing up and down due to her
foot being asleep, in the deadly grasp of Crookshanks.
Harry, feeling very brave, jumps up to accept the challenge.
"No I don't." Harry interrupts, folding his arms. "I don't know what bird
he's talking about. How am I suppose to get it?"
"Because you do that type of thing when you are feeling brave. And if I
haven't made it known yet, I *am* the almighty narrator of this story"
Harry frowns sulkily, shuffling his feat towards Crookshanks. "But-"
"Fine then."
Suddenly, the brave and mighty trio jump into the commonroom to aid
Harry, who is in dire need of help!
"Fear not, Harry!"
"Consider things taken care of."
The voices of the Weasley twins reach the scene.
"Oy! Stand back!" Lee Jordan demands, holding a very large pillow.
Harry looks upon the scene, getting a tad bit annoyed. "Since when am I in
dire need of help?"
However, Harry's voice is unheard over the giant walloping noise as Lee
brings down the giant pillow over Crookshanks' head.
"Mrow!" the random guy in the red cloak translates for Crookshanks, as
small white feathers fall around the busted pillow.
"Grabb—"
"You have found the feathers for my own feather pillow!" The red-cloaked
guy announces. "For this I will always be grateful!" He looks around, a little
embarrassed. "Or so the cat says."
Crookshanks looks around, having turned back into a cat. Making sure his
pillow bed is safe, he takes the time to thank the heroes by rubbing against
Fred's leg with affection.
"Wait a minute," Harry interrupts, as usual. "I'm suppose to be the hero of
these stories!"
"But you aren't my favorite character. These guys are."
Before Harry can reply, Hermione looks around in horror. "My pillow! My
favorite pillow!"
Lee glances at the twins, who suddenly decide that the dorms is a good
place to be. The brave, wonderful, almighty trio dart away, leaving Harry to
clean up the spare feathers Crookshanks won't use.
As for everyone else, they live happily ever after.
"Happily ever after? Cleaning up feathers?" Harry narrows his eyes,
folding his arms in an unhappy manner.
"Think Dudley in a dementor robe."
"….And we all live happily ever after."