Hello! This is a story, a term used loosely, inspired by one of my school projects, which you may or may not have already guessed so. It's not a very serious idea, so if I offend any serious writers here, I'm sorry. I don't own HP, but I hope you enjoy!… though it's probably only funny if you like English class. No joke.
Harry Potter's Ten Keys to Success
Boxes. Boxes. Boxes. That was all Harry could see in the dimly-lighted storage room. Honestly, the only thing Harry wanted to see was the back of his eyelids, but a promise is a promise even if that promise involves sacrificing your Saturday afternoon nap. He stooped down, heaved a box labeled fragile, and immediately put it down again. By the reeking smells seeping through it, Harry figured they were potions from at least seven years ago. He kicked it aside, and pretended he hadn't even seen it. Harry could not remember why there was a room filled with old stuff, what the old stuff was, or the correct spell to get rid of the old stuff because, you see, Harry had not that great of a week, and including his deprivation of a afternoon nap, he felt all too lazy to even try and remember anything.
Sitting on a cardboard box that creaked like only a cauldron can, he opened a small rectangular-ish box and took out several parchments. The one on top contained notes from a beginners charms class. He was about to roll the parchments, which he suspected were from his first year, into a tight wad and start a throwaway pile when he noticed one sticking out. Oddly, it was not covered in doodles or secret messages to Ron. He pulled it out and automatically recognized his a-teacher-is-looking-at-me-so-I-better-write-in-a-perfect-even-tone handwriting. Then he looked at what he labeled the parchment… and rushed back into an old memory.
…
"I've had it!" Percy roared.
"Had it? Had what? Do you plan to share what you have?"
"Don't get funny with me, Jordan. I've had it with you and my two idiotic brothers," he growled. Everyone in the common room turned to look at him. "It's been tough when you all are playing pranks and making fools of yourselves, but as being the mature and responsible prefect I have to let it slide and continue to set a good example."
"I'm not sure that I can agree with that at the moment," said Fred.
"Some of you first-years might want to cover your ears," George added in a low-tone.
"I put up with it most of the time, but enough is enough! You're latest dares and endeavors are not only foolish and dangerous, they vilify the name of Godric Gryffindor!"
All the Gryffindor's were silent for a moment before George quietly and sincerely asked, "Was he the one with the big freaky beard-"
"-or was he the one that went 'hiss' and 'I hate all non-purebloods'?"
Percy suddenly went very calm, and, as calmly as he could, he informed George, Fred, and Lee, "You know what your problem is? You have no direction to go in life," they started to protest, but he held up a hand. "Don't go feeling all insulted; I know just how to fix your problem."
As it turns out no one else knew how to fix their "problem" until the following night. Most of the younger years, including first-years Harry and Ron, were trying to do their homework while the older years were laughing and talking away.
No one took much notice when Percy opened the portal door, but the room fell silent when Professor McGonagall followed him.
In her usual strict and enunciating voice she told her house, "I hope you aren't too distraught at my interruption of carefree time, but I have a little project that I thought we could try."
"But it's after-school hours," Fred moaned; Hermione sat up a little straighter.
"Does it happen to involve winning the quidditch cup?" Oliver Wood asked a little too hopefully.
"No,no,no. I'll explain everything, but first I want you all to get out a piece of parchment and a quill." Most of the kids groaned, one or two went upstairs to wake their sleeping friends, but all did as they were told; after all it isn't wise to contradict McGonagall.
When all the Gryffindors were settled, and the grumbling lessened a bit, the professor began. "It has come to my attention that some of Gryffindors here today are not living up to the standard that was set when you were first chosen to join this house," all the students delivered evil eyes to Percy, the snitch without wings. "I want you all to understand that many wizards and witches have gone through trials and suffering so that you can be here today. You are here to study and learn, so that you can make a life for yourself. The problem, I here, is that many of you do not know what kind of life you want to make." She turned to face the fireplace, took out her wand, and began writing words in a crisp green trail in the air. (A/N I don't actually know if there is a spell like that named in the books.)
"Oh boy," Ron muttered unenthusiastically; Harry was craning his neck to see. "It's bad, I'll tell you, Harry. It looks like Muggle school-"
"Sssshhh!" Hermione hissed, turning slightly to face them; Ron just stuck his tongue out.
McGonagall finished writing and turned to face them again. "I want you all to write a list of ten things that you want to accomplish in your life. By writing down what you honestly want to do with your life it will be easier to stay focus and achieve your goals. We'll call these lists… your ten keys to success." Some of the more ambitious students were already halfway through their lists, but the professor called their attention once more. "I want this done in a very exact way, so you must put more thought in it and you'll always remember it." Pointing to the words still suspended in air, she called out her directions:
"I want all the points in sentences and in first person. One must be an idiom, one must be a personification. There must be at least one simile and metaphor. One hyperbole, one gerund, one infinitive, one participle and two you may do in any style you wish." Her house's reaction was far worse compared to her first command, but, as mentioned before, it is not wise to contradict McGonagall.
For the next forty minutes or more the common room was silent as everyone wrote. People like Hermione and Percy delved into it with all their heart while others like Harry, Ron, and Lee struggled with every other word.
Professor McGonagall waited patiently while the students wrote, and when they were done she gave a very satisfied smile at the thought that her Gryffindors were on their way to becoming successful wizards and witches.
Shyly, which is always how she did things, Dee Wills raised her hand and timidly asked, "Could we spare some time and read what we wrote?" It was like a secret network signal. The room lit up in mischievous smiles and goody-two shoe smiles. "My first one is a simile," Dee continued when the professor agreed. "I want to fly on a broom as fast as man late for work." Though it was written in earnest, many sniggered, and Oliver Wood call out, "My first one is a personification. I want to be a great quidditch player like "Rock" Austen!"
As one might guess, growing up in a magical world majority of them did not understand what a simile, personification or any of that mumbo jumbo really was or how to write a good one. Even Harry, for thinking his entire life that he was a Muggle, whispered to Ron, "What do you think a gerund is?"
"A five foot seven man with a pointy beard."
The fun was just getting started. "I want to own a joke shop with my brother who on some days smells so bad that Mother has to toss him into the salty sea to change his scent," George read, flinging an arm around his twin.
"I want to work for the Ministry. Infinitive…ly," called Katie Bell. Despite herself, Professor McGonagall was chuckling, and she made no move to correct her students.
"I got a personif-whatever. Imagine, the most beautiful day ever and the most ugly Slytherin getting-"
"I want to share mine," Hermione spoke up above the laughter and calling, but knowing that her list was very serious, no one had any intentions of listening to her.
"I have a metaphor! Why did the chicken cross the road?"
"I want to create my own spell. And it'll all start with a participle-"
"Professor? You said two of the goals could be free, right?" Fred asked honestly. She nodded. "Then let 'er rip!" Fred, George, and Lee cast spells and two of their bulletins flew off the parchments and followed whichever direction their wands pointed.
It was a bad idea. Actually, it was a very funny idea, but then everyone else wanted in on it. Pretty soon, sentences were flying everywhere.
"Hey! Your idiot just rammed into my idiot, you idiot! Apologize!"
"They're called idioms, you idiot! The only relation is that you would confuse the two."
Even the first years, who didn't know that many spells or English, were taking in the sights of words flying, and corny jokes being yelled almost as fast.
"Hey! Hey" Neville Longbottom cried excitedly. "When I grow up, I want to be one of the greatest wizards of our day."
To his embarrassment everyone stopped and looked at him. "…I mean, I want to befriend one of the greatest wizards of our day." The fun and chaos resumed.
"Why? Why? Why?" Percy groaned holding his head in his hands.
"Simile! When I become a dragon trainer all the dragons will act like I'm the king. Though the other trainers might not like that."
"Metaphor! I'm going to be a rock in the way of the procession of knowledge… or… I'm not actually sure what I mean."
"I want the Defense Against the Dark Art job, so I can beat-"
The Gryffindors continued calling out their goals, flying sentences around the room like kites, and generally having a good evening. Once more, though, the room went silent when the portal door opened and Professor Dumbledore ambled in.
"Ah here you. Minerva, I would like to speak to you, Professor Snape, and Professor Flitwick for a moment if you don't mind." He turned and looked at the chaos that was frozen in embarrassment and fear. "What's going on here?" he asked curiously.
"I gave them an assignment in hope of inspiring them to pursue and achieve their goal, but you know how kids are."
"Fun and partying first. I understand completely, being young at heart myself." He smiled good-naturedly and looked at McGonagall's words in the air and said, "Keys to Success. Keys to Success? Keys to Success. Would any of you care to hear my Keys to Success?"
Hermione gave an audible gasp of delight, and all the students returned to their seats to hear Dumbledore.
"Key One: Trust in yourself. Believe in yourself. Stand up for yourself." He made short walks around the room as he talked and managed to make eye contact with all his students. "Key Two: you should try to right the things that are wrong especially if you are the only one who knows its wrong. Key Three: the past is sometimes as scary as the future; try not to be afraid of either. Key Four: if you are given a task it is because someone believes in you; don't let them down. Key Five: Stick together. Always. Key Six: the world is scary, but if you have hope then it is never the end. Key Seven: it will get better." At this point a small smile crept into his beard. "Key Eight: despite what they tell you, All-flavor jellybeans are not that wonderful; I speak from personal experience. Key Nine: don't make me wish I didn't send you your acceptance letter," The entire room was smiling back at him now. "Key Ten: the adage 'where there's a will there's a way' is a lie. I have known many people named Will but only a few named Way. Therefore be sure to never call a tea kettle black. And as for a bonus Key to Success: in order to live a very long life," he began slowly, "make sure to never trust-" he paused dramatically, "-anything," pause, "Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley try to offer you."
The students laughed whole-heartedly because it was all to painfully true. "Well said," McGonagall muttered. Fred and George got up and shook Dumbledore's hand because in the pranksters' world that was a very huge compliment indeed.
Dumbledore swept McGonagall out of the room, and after a few rounds of Catch That Sentence! and Get Your Goal Out of My Face! the Gryffindors retired to a peaceful night filled with dreams of a ridiculous and funny future.
…..
Looking at the parchment today, Harry noticed how little thought he put into constructing the sentences the way they were supposed to be. Oh well, a sentence is a sentence just like a promise is a promise. Before he continued with his chore, though, Harry read down the list.
I plan to be a great Seeker… or at least play on a great team… Or maybe just watch a great team play.
To figure out a way to survive Snape's class without losing my head or my house's points.
Giving the Dursleys a taste of their own medicine.
Speaking of Dursleys, I will move out of Privet drive like a lion going on it's first hunt… that is when I'm legally old enough to.
When I graduate Hogwarts it shall be the crowning feather in my hat (note to self: ask Ron what kind of hat would look good on me, or which one would best hide my scar.)
I would very much like to talk to a pretty girl without being entirely swallowed by embarrassment.
Once I would like to foil a prank placed by Fred and George. Which is a hyperbole in its self.
I will provide better care for Hedwig, so she won't keep thinking I'm an insensitive idiom.
In order to survive school: I must get Hermione and Ron to get along- which will not come freely I am sure.
And lastly, Professor, if you plan on collecting these parchments and reading them you might not like to hear this, I want to, and I will, get back at Malfoy. I am going to rip him to participles for every mean thing he has said about me and my friends.
There was certainly something young and naïve about the list; Harry wondered even if he had accomplished all of his goals that he had planned in his first year. More importantly, he wondered what in Merlin's name is a gerund.
Harry placed the parchment back with the others, roll them into a tight wad, and began a throw-away pile.