Wizards of the Caribbean
By: Sminglish for Two's very own Ssa and Emmalaya
A/N: Welcome to the demented world Ssa and Emmalaya live in. Where Harry Potter goes into a coma, and in which crazy, wacky randomness rules. This is Wizards of the Caribbean--A spoof of Harry Potter fanfiction. This is for entertainment only, I'm afraid, and it is supposed to be zany and uncharacteristic. Even if at this very moment you are prepared to tie us up and play Russian Roulette because we've put dearest Harry into a coma (please don'tby the way, that might just be painful) just know that this is a spoof and not meant to offend anyone and we're just having a bit of fun. :)
Disclaimer: No, we don't own Harry Potter, you twits. If we did, well, let's just say that those Harry Lovers would not be happy... -shifty eyes-
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FLASHBACK
Harry Potter was snoring as loudly as a cow under a waterfall! He had been standing in a chair that sat facing his window, watching nothing for about four hours. The only thing he did was stare out into the neighbors window, watching the big screen TV they had. He had finally fallen unconscious after seeing the wife, who lived in the house with the big screen TV, changed the channel. Almost as soon as he had fallen off his chair, everything flew straight at Harry.
The room was clean, since everything was now on Harry, except for the giant puddle of drool engulfing the whole room. Owl feathers, apple cores, and sweet wrappers were laying on his head... almost to where you couldn't see his head anymore. There were a few things just laying on him--like a number of spell-books that lay higgledy-piggledy on his back and tangled robes on his legs.
There was a newspaper in his hand that had a head line reading, " Harry Potter: The Coma One?" It didn't really have anything to do with the state he was in now… it was actually a miss printing.
And then suddenly a form appeared right in front of his door. The figure waited a second… and then knocked on the door. As soon as the figure knocked the books on Harry's back fell over onto his head… sending him into a deeper coma.
The door slowly opened and a timid voice asked, "Harry? What is… ewww… what am I standing in?" As the figure was left to stand by himself in a puddle of drool with the unconscious body of the Boy-Who-Lived.
FLASHBACK ENDED
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"Now students, as we have taken time to assess the situation surrounding Hogwarts and the War against the Dark Lord, we have come to a conclusion," Minerva McGonagall, the new headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood at the very same place Albus Dumbledore had for many, many years as she spoke to the four house tables. The ceiling above was the picture of a crystal clear night; stars twinkled merrily down at the students below, though no matter how bright they shimmered they couldn't lighten the dreary, mournful mood of the castle.
The Great Hall was quieter than usual, and seemed ten times the size it should be. It felt hollow and empty. Not even half of the student population had returned this year; most parents had thought that it would be safer if they kept their dear children at home. There was only about thirty or so that had come back in Gryffindor house, twenty-two from Hufflepuff, eleven from Ravenclaw, and nine and a half (counting that one teeny-teeny first year) from Slytherin.
"This year, to better protect our students, and to lighten the mood, we shall all be having classes out on the Caribbean Sea."
The Hall erupted in a roar of chatter, and whatever Headmistress McGonagall was going to say was drowned out by the sound of students talking. She tapped her spoon against her wine glass. The students ignored her. She repeated the act. They still ignored her. For the third time, she tapped the glass. And for the third time, the students failed to hear. One small Hufflepuff boy noticed, and started tugging on the Prefect sitting beside him's sleeve; the older kid pushed him off the bench and he fell onto the floor in a seizure.
Finally, McGonagall had had enough. "Silence!" The woman screeched, and the Hall fell silent again. "Now, as I was saying, this year we will be taking the Castle to the Caribbean Sea, both for the relaxing atmosphere and the fact that it is farther away from You-Know-Who's grasp. And now, before we take flight, let us fill our stomachs!"
She clapped, and at once the tables were overflowing with plates of food.
Then, suddenly, the door burst open, and three hobbling figures carrying a fourth collapsed inside. Two had distinct red hair and freckles—Ronald and Ginny Weasley. The other girl had bushy brown hair, Hermione Granger, and the last (the one being carried by Ron, Ginny, and Hermione) was undoubtedly the great Harry Potter himself. Yes, Harry Potter, unconscious with a small wet spot on the front of his shirt where he had drooled during his journey.
"Miss. Weasley! Mr. Weasley! Miss. Granger! What is going on?" The Headmistress exclaimed, rushing down the isle, walking briskly past the fallen Hufflepuff. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had quickly, but carefully, lay Harry out on the ground and were now stretching as if their backs ached. The comatose hero looked peaceful laying there, his hair as askew as always and his glasses… not there?
"What happened?" The Headmistress repeated. It was Hermione that recovered first, and she sighed and picked a twig from her hair.
"Well, Professor, I know we had said that Ron, Harry, and I weren't planning on returning this year to Hogwarts, but the Order insisted we stay. So we did. But we just barely caught the train -because of Harry's condition- and then we were late getting off, and all the carriages were gone. So, we carried Harry all the way here."
McGonagall nodded, puzzled. Then she shook her head in disbelief. "Condition? What condition?"
The Headmistress didn't get an immediate response. The trio simply stood there: Ron shuffling his feet, Ginny twirling a strand of hair around her finger, and Hermione rubbing her arm nervously. The elderly woman's sharp eyes darted from Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and the unconscious Harry and then back again, and then finally, "Well?"
By now the whole hall was listening to and watching the risingspectacle. Ron coughed lightly. "Well..." He stammered, "...he's in... a... coma."
The Great Hall erupted once more in hushed chit-chat, gasps, and muttered questions from those to far away to hear. McGonagall gasped softly, and cupped her mouth with her hand, her eyes falling to thecataleptic young not-so-much-of-a-hero-now.
"But..." She began, slowly regaining her voice, "how?"
"We aren't sure. Professor Lupin went to pick him up one night, and just found him there. But the Healers at Mungo's are positive he's in a coma and they said--" Professor McGonagall held up her hand, and Hermione ceased her explanation. The tall woman turned and strode towards the doors.
"Let's discuss this in my office," She said stiffly, casting a suspicious glance at the student body.
With one graceful sweep of her arm and a flick of her wand, Harry's lifeless body lifted up, his head lolling to the side, and she floated him out the door. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione followed; Ron and Hermione walking slightly closer together than they needed to be and Ginny walking ahead by herself.
After the long walk to the Headmistress' office, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione sank into the plush chairs with sighs of relief. Headmistress McGonagall sat down in the chair behind the desk and transfigured a chair into a long sofa where she sat the Boy Wonder. The three students looked around the room, which was much different than before.
No longer was it full of nifty little things and do-hickeys, but there were much more mild things filling it. Fawkes was gone, as was his perch, but in his place there was a brilliantly colored macaw. Just like the Transfiguration classroom, the room was dotted with cages and assorted animals and creatures. There were paintings and a few exotic looking plants, too. All in all, the room was much more feminine--much to the discomfort and dislike of one Phineas Black, who sat stuffily in his painting with his arms draped over his chest, wearing a scowl. Currently his eyes were glaring at a bowl of pretty pink lillies as if his very gaze would make them burst into flames.
"Now, Miss. Granger, please continue." McGonagall commanded, and the bushy brunette obliged.
"Well, Professor, Professor Lupin found Harry unconscious in his room when he came to pick him up. The Healers said he had fallen into a coma. He woke up twice while at Ron's house, and it was in a pattern, you see. He woke up for two days straight every two months, and the Healers said that they expected the pattern to continue."
The older woman nodded, frowning, and locked her gaze onto Harry--who was now snoring quite profoundly. She sighed heavily, and rubbed her temples. This was not going to be an easy year. "I see. Well, you three go back down and enjoy the feast, I'll take care of Mr. Potter. Oh, and, we'll be transfering Hogwarts to a much safer location this year, so please don't be surprised about what you see outside your window when you wake up tomorrow morning."
The three nodded, puzzled, but went down to the feast anyway.
End of Chapter Authors' Notes:
Emmalaya: Well, what did you think? I'm afraid I wrote most of this chapter by myself, since poor Ssa hasn't had the time. >:( She's been going to 'Mt. Storm' and not telling me.-evil glares-Psshhha. She did write the flashback, tho'.
And a Happy Independance Day! And remember not to set off your firecrackers near hornets' nests this year! xDD