So this is a one shot that I've written, just something that came to me in the middle of Italian. I thought it was pretty funny, so, I'm just putting down on here. I've only just started posting some of the story's I've written, so I hope they're fine. Reviews are welcome.
Characters are OOC.
Disclaimer׃ I don't own Harry Potter
He scratched at the table. Boredly. End of story.
Okay, well, maybe not quite.
But Harry certainly was bored out of his mind. And Lockhart was droning on about this werewolf who he healed on a quarter moon, on top of a vampire, while doing his hair… Or something like that. He wasn't really interested.
He tossed the quill over his shoulder before rummaging for another one. Thank God he actually sat in the back today. "Harry!" Although…
"What?" He turned to Hermione who was staring at him scandalously.
"You can't just toss trash on the ground like it's nothing!" She huffed angrily and turned toward Lockhart at his indifferent shrug. He refused to actually refer to him as a Professor. That man was anything but… although he seemed like a wannabe model. May he should check that out…
"Miss Granger?"
Harry jumped at the voice. It was so much closer than before.
"Sorry to interrupt Professor," the bushy-haired girl smiled at the blond ponce. Harry had a distinct feeling of dread. "But Harry didn't want to interrupt you enrapturing story!" The only thing that would rapture is an ulcer. Than he would die a slow and painful death, Harry almost wished that would happen, at least he'd be out of his misery. And the feeling of dread intensified. "But he wanted to know if he could pick up his quill. He dropped it, you see?"
Harry turned to her in betrayal.
"Of course Miss Granger! And Mr. Potter," the ponce turned toward the boy-who-live. "Don't fear of asking questions – or interrupting me for something like this. It's perfectly fine. I understand completely!"
Of course he did. He – apparently – understood everything.
And Harry – apparently – had to pick up the useless quill.
He hated Hermione sometimes.
"Of course," he twisted his mouth into a rather painful smile. "Thank you… sir?" Was he gay? Would he be a he for long? It was possible that he might decide on a sex change. Eh – anything's possible.
He stood, shooting a dark look at Hermione, and turned toward the corner. Goddammit 'Mione.
He could already hear Malfoy laughing.
This was a great start to the day.
Lockhart was speaking again. Was he talking about Cornish Pixies? My God, the man was gay – no that there's anything wrong with that. Harry sighed. He was channeling Seinfeld. Again.
And – Oh. My. God. There's an ant!
He took his discarded quill and used it to pick the ant up.
… It was such a tiny-ass little bug. Wicked.
"I found an Ant!" Harry said quite loudly. And yes, in his opinion the Ant deserved to be capitalized. He didn't exactly care that he was interrupting Lockhart. "I shall name him Richard."
Most of the class stared in shock at this uncharacteristic Harry Potter.
"Mr. Potter?" Lockhart blinked at him. "Harry – "
"Why are there ants in here?" Lavender Brown exclaimed, horrified. She tore her eyes away from the teacher in disgust. "Merlin! I don't want bugs in my school! Aren't there charms or something to prevent them?"
Lockhart laughed nervously. "I'm sure it's just from all the food you guys eat in here," he admonished them slightly – discarding the fact that they weren't allowed to eat food in the classroom. "I'll talk with the elves about this. All the bugs will be gone by tomorrow." And Lockhart, who, by now, had read Harry's desk, swept the quill to the floor, the bug traveling with it.
"Richard!" Harry dove at the little black spot. "You've killed Richard!"
"I –" The blond ponce blinked in confusion. "What?"
"Richard!" Harry cried out. "He was my new best friend!"
Draco, who had gathered his wits, sneered, "You're having such a hard time finding friends that you have to resort to a bug, Potter?"
"At least it's one up from Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy." Harry shot back.
Before Malfoy could open his – stupid, idiotic, moronic – mouth, Parvati spoke up with a grin, "There's another ant here Harry!" Finally. Someone understood his mind. Glory! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! And all that jazz.
"It's Richards's cousin!" Harry raced toward the Patil twin. "Thank you," he said solemnly, bending down to pick the ant up, "You have done Richards's family a good service." He stood up. "Some people don't care about all of natures live," he shot a look at Lavender Brown, "and others may attempt to murder Richard the Second." A dark look was thrown at the Ponce.
"Another Richard?" Parvati asked. "Two Richards in one family? Cousins?" She sent him a disappointed look.
"He goes by Ricardo." Harry added with a grin. "His father is Italian."
"Nice."
"I wish I was Italian," Tracy Davis complained, attempting to view her reflection in her necklace, "I'd look so much better with olive skin."
"You're beautiful as is!" Harry told the black-haired Slytherin brightly.
He ignored the rest of the class, most of which were staring at him in confusion, and the Slytherin blushed a deep red.
"Ricardo?" Hermione's voice asked softly, confusion lacing through it. Ron sat in the chair before her, mouth open in shock. Had Harry just complemented the enemy? He told a Slytherin that she was beautiful? Oh Merlin, where was Pomfrey when you needed her?
"Ricardo." Harry answered the disembodied voice – in his opinion, that's what it seemed like – with a smile. "I'm going to take him back home." To that little corner where he'd found Richard the First before he was horrifically murdered. He pushed the ant to the floor. "Fly my best friend's cousin, fly!"
He blew an air kiss toward the corner. "I shall miss you, Ricardo!" He attempted his best Italian accent, which wasn't very good, "I hope to meet you again one day!"
Parvati laughed as Harry raced back to his seat.
"Shall we continue Professor?" He asked, sitting back in his chair. "We can't wait all day for you to just sit there and watch my face. I mean, I realize I'm gorgeous, but really, that's not professional."
"I –" The Ponce swallowed. "Mr. Potter –"
"Oh!" Harry jumped out of his seat. "Is that a Vitatosh Biscuit?" He asked, walking to the teacher's desk. Indeed, that biscuit did sit at the corner. "I didn't know that you ate crap Professor." He said conversationally.
"That isn't –"
"Anything with Vita in it is crap." Harry overrode his outraged exclamation.
Parvati gave an exaggerated gasp. "Harry!" She cried out in terror before Lockhart could say a thing. "No cussing in front of Ricardo! His cousin just died!"
"Oh Gods!" He cried out. "I'm sorry Ricardo!"
He began running to the corner before Lockhart caught him. "Mr. Potter, stop messing around." He ground out, pushing him toward his desk. "And Miss Patil," he said, turning toward the young Indian, "try not to encourage his activities."
Harry snorted at the innuendo that he was sure only he had gotten. His uncle watched some weird crap on the tele that he really shouldn't have known.
"Of course Professor," Harry grinned and caught Parvati's eye, "just try not to kill any more of Ricardo's family."
"They'd be terribly upset." She continued.
"Not only that," Harry added, "but think of what the press will think – Lockhart Kills Ant Family – front page."
They got to spend the rest of the period watching Lockhart's mini panic attack.