Birds Don't Sing with Voices that Crack
It all happened in Snape's class. All because of the next generation of ferret, Julia Malfoy. She knew how much I hated that filth that slime: JULIE ANDREWS!
Excerpt, Ginny Weasley's Diary:
I hate that prat Malfoy! And, for once, I'm not talking about the brother. No, it's that Julia, the sick, psychopathic twit. Snape's no better; they're all in cahoots against me. But this, today in potion class, was an all time low.
I was busy mixing the latest concoction taskmaster Snape had deployed, Eye Enlarger Solution, and wondering why anyone would want eyes the size of their butt when heathen Julia sauntered over. If only she wasn't so terrifyingly popular with the Slytherins! I would have popped her as easily as snogged a boy if there wasn't that nasty side effect of my being lynched. Kera and The now transformed Draco had done their best, but being the only real human beings in their house had significantly reduced any previous influence. So, all I could do was stare off into space with a dreamy look on my face, relishing the gruesome detail I'd put into her burning and stake, while impaled on several silver spikes, of course. Can never be too careful with those unnatural undead werewolves. No, not werewolf. That's mean to Lupin and all those zombies.
Naturally, I was so wrapped up in this I barely listened as she invited me to some twisted party that was going on next Saturday at Hogsmeade. Like I would ever voluntarily be seen in the same room as the prostitute-in-training (Recorders Note: Ms. Weasley seems to have forgotten that prostitutes are people too.) But, when she waltzed off, finally realizing that I'd dreamily ignored that last five minutes of her presence, there was no hint of what she'd done.
On I went, happily stirring away at my cauldron, when BAM! Everything exploded in a cloud of black pewter dust. They took me to the infirmary and- I don't feel very good…
Excerpt, Hermione Granger's Journal:
Oh, diary, I don't what's wrong with Ginny. Five minutes ago she- well, maybe I should start at the beginning.
I had rushed over to the infirmary as so as I'd heard what happened. Now, Ginny a smart girl, but she's never been one to mind the cauldron well. Anyway, when I got there, she was out, cold. Madame Pomfrey looked extremely worried. "They found something in the mess," she'd told Ron and me when we arrived. Harry was in detention for leaving his potions homework to go flying (I warned him!) and Ron looked so sad (he always looks so adorable like that, so much like a little lost puppy), I could have kissed him. But, I won't. Much too embarrassing for a girl like me. Anyway, Madame Pomfrey was sure of some sort of foul play.
But I'm still very worried about Ginny. She woke up and everything was fine, but I could have sworn while she was out that I heard several hums that sounded like 'These Are a Few of My Favorite Things'. I thought it was just me hallucinating, or that Ron was keeping secrets from his friends again, because Ginny loathes Julie Andrews. (I've had to sit through several long tirades about the poor woman, and, believe me; I wouldn't have wanted to be her if she ran into my fire-haired friend.) Now, I'm not so sure.
Five minutes ago, Ginny Weasley dashed into my dorm, belting "THE HILLS ARE ALIVE, WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC!" wearing a starch white apron! And there were daisies!
"Your move," Ron sat crouched over his piece, barely hiding a grin. Harry, as usual, would be going down.
"Knight to E-4," came the gloomy reply. Having just gotten off an hour of scrubbing out slime encrusted jars, Harry's mind was focus on the best way to duel a teacher, not wizard chess.
"Ah, mate, you're done. Queen to-"
"DO, A DEER, A FEMALE DEER!"
"What the hell?" Harry stood up, robes scattering the chess piece with screams of protest emitting from them.
"RE, A DROP OF GOLDEN SUN!"
"Harry! You did that on purpose!" Now Ron was standing, too.
"ME, A NAME, I CALL MYSELF!"
"Ah, my ears!" Neville stumbled into the common room from the stairs.
"FA, A LONG LONG WAY TO R-UN-UN!"
"NEVILLE, WHAT IS THAT?" Ron now had to shout to be heard.
"SO, A NEEDLE PULLING THREAD!"
"I DUNNO! I WAS JUST COMING DOWN THE STAIRS WHEN-"
"LA, A NOTE TO FOLLOW SO!"
"WELL, WHO EVER IT IS BETTER SHUT UP!" Harry was in no mood for this. Whoever came down the stairs was getting an immediate body-bind.
"TE, A DRING WITH JAM AND BREAD!"
"OH, DON'T WORRY, I'LL MAKE SURE OF THAT!" was Ron's hoarse reply.
"THAT WILL BRING US BACK TO DO-O-O-O!"
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Harry screamed.
Ginny fell down the last step with a silly grin on her face, flowered dress flapping, mouth glued shut firmly.
"Oh, Gin, are you okay?" Harry dashed over and muttered the counter-curse. Whatever had been singing that insane song had stopped, thank god.
"Quite alright, Captain," she replied in a strange voice, "but that wasn't very nice. Honestly, you call yourself a gentleman?"
"Ginny, are you okay?" Harry hooked her hand in his and lifted her back up with ease. The worry on his face made his scar disappear beneath a cringing forehead. "I really didn't mean to hit you with that. I was trying to stop that raquet."
"Yeah," Ron agreed, massaging his ears. "Whoever was singing needs some intensive and rigorous voice lessons. Was that supposed to be Julie Andrews, or something?"
"No," Ginny laughed in a haywire and chaotic manner, the exact opposite of her usual bubbly manner. "It was supposed to be me-"
"Ron since when do you know who Julie Andrews is?"
"Doesn't everyone?"
"Uh, no. Who is she?"
"Oh, you know, the Sound of Music, Mary Poppins, The Princess Diaries…"
"Yeah, those girl movies."
"They are not! They're timeless classics filled with merriment, joy, and good life lessons."
"They're also filled with men in short trousers, musical numbers, and some pot induced animation. Besides, no one gets blown up in those chick flicks. Only metros, transvestites… RON!"