You know, I don't know what it is about Harry Potter fanfics, but whatever it is I can't stop writing them. This little gem popped out during an extremely tedious science lesson. At the time I was burning out the last of a very large sugar rush. I cannot be held responsible for this load of complete nonsense. Hopefully, you people will find it as funny as my friends said they did.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry, Ron, Hermione, Voldemort, Oliver Wood or Molly Weasly. Nor do I own Quirrell or the Weasly twins. They all belong to J.K.Rowling, who doesn't play around with them nearly half as much as she should you know. Oh, the endless fun she could have with the twins of only she tried!
I would like to thank the following people for the following tit-bits:
The genius jamc91, for the hilarious concept of ghost of Quirrell. I apologise for completely murdering it.
My darling Veritas Indolentia Adamo, for the line 'Pink is a derivative of red'.
The voice in my head, Pablo the Penguin, for making up that annoying 'Fingers stuck' song. Thanks a lot for making me sing it during maths.
And finally, the gorgeous MZ (also known as Emma to those who christened her) for the line 'on the other foot'. You're right. It's so much better than 'on the other hand'.
Sorry for rambling and making this sound like an Oscar acceptance speech. This is a ONE-SHOT. Enjoy.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting. It was a nice day for sitting, and so they sat, Suddenly, Voldemort came bounding up to them and tied them all up in the time it takes to peel a small orange.
"Mwahaha! You are now mine!" he cackled. Before his captives could even react, he transported them all to his secret dungeons with a rubber duck portkey. Harry thought the yellow duck clashed with Voldie's red eyes, but he wasn't given a chance to say so.
Once in the dungeon, Voldemort threw the trio into the only cell there, which was dark, dingy and previously empty.
"Be afraid children!" he bellowed. "For come sunrise tomorrow I shall return here and inflict upon you infinate amounts of pain, torture and...strawberry jam!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione recoiled in horror and watched nervously as Voldemort strode out of the room laughing evilly. The ropes that bound them twitched and disappeared with a small 'ni!', and everything went eerily quiet. That tends to happen in dungeons. For a while everyone remained calm, until one of them cracked and started panicking. You know, obviously.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO DO!" Hermione yelled, grabbing Ron by the shoulders and shaking him until he passed out. She looked down at the unconscious red head and collapsed into tears. "I've killed him!" she wailed. "I'm all alooone!"
"No you're not. You have H-Harry P-P-Potter." said the ghost of Quirrell as he floated through the wall. Hermione stared at him with an expression resembling that of a goldfish. Quirrell sighed. "He's over there." he cried, pointing visciously. "He's the one playing with the chinese fingertrap."
And so he was. Hermione watched as Harry excitedly pulled his fingers apart, only to have the fingertrap snap them back into place again. He giggled profusely.
"Hee hee! My fingers are stuck!" he tittered to himself.
Hermione burst into tears again.
Sometime later Ron regained consciousness. Hermione was huddled in the corner with her eyes darting across the walls, as if they might attack her at any minute. She kept muttering something about 'walls closing in'. Ron, having an excellent sense of logic (he is a master chess player, you know.) quickly worked out that Hermione was suffering from acute claustrophobia, and deemed her useless as long as she was in the cell. Once he had assessed Hermione, Ron turned his attention to Harry...who hadn't moved.
"Heh! Now matter how hard I pull my fingers, they still stay stuck!" Harry then proceeded to pull with all his might. His face turned purple and his scar threatened to pop right off of his face from the strain. Then, his fingers snapped back as they were before and the fingertrap let out a small evil laugh (obviously it was a magic fingertrap). "See?" Harry grinned at Ron with his green eyes flashing mysoginistically.
Ron sighed, not entirely sure why his friend had grinned at him with a woman-hating expression on his face. He did know, however, that it was now up to him to get the trio out of Voldemort's secret dungeons before the sun rose and Voldemort inflicted pain, torture and strawberry jam upon them. He shuddered at the very thought of the sticky horror. He needed a plan.
Half an hour later, Ron was lying upside down on the floor with his legs sprawled against the manky wall. He couldn't think of one single thing to get them out of there, and Harry's insessant giggling was beginning to really cheese him off. Suddenly, The-Boy-Who-Lived burst into an impossibly annoying song: "La la la, fingers stuck! I cannot move my fingers! Fingies stuck, stuckie-stuck! La la la la la!"
"That's it!" Ron yelled. He got up (with some difficulty - see top of paragraph), grabbed Harry's fingers, pushed them together and released so that the magical evil fingertrap fell squealing to the floor. It scuttled into a dark corner that no one had noticed before and exploded in a cloud of flourescent pink leprachaun dust.
"Thanks Ron." Harry muttered sheepishly. The magical fingertrap had him under a spell, but now it was broken and Harry was back to his usual brooding the-world-is-on-my-shoulders self. Ron ignored him and kept staring at the corner with a look of ultimate confuddlement.
"Why on earth was the leprachaun dust pink?" he demanded.
"Pink is a derivative of red." Harry replied defensivley while trying desperately to hide his feet, which were clad in shiny pink satin ballet point shoes for some bizarre, unknown and irrelevant reason. Ron didn't notice as he isn't very observative about shoes and hair etc. Instead he tried to rouse Hermione from her state of terror by prodding her with his wand.
"Ah! Get off me!" she squealed. She grabbed the wand and threw it at Ron's head.
"Ow!" he whined.
"Serves you right." she sniffed. Suddenly she gasped and pointed at Ron with an accusing tone that said 'I-am-going-to-kill-you-for-being-such-a-moron'. "You had your wand all along and you didn't get us out!"
Ron considered this for a moment as he looked from his wand on the floor behind him to Hermione's scowling face, and back again. The realisation hit him like a big hitting thing and he went such a deep scarlet that his hair seemed blonde in comparison.
"I'll unlock the door then." he mumbled sheepishly.
Once Ron had opened the door with the 'Alohamora' charm, the trio clambered up some adjacent stairs and emerged from Voldemort's secret dungeon. They found themselves in what appeared to be a dentist's waiting room.
"Hiya Harry!" chirped Oliver Wood, who was sitting in one the plastic chairs for people who were waiting in the waiting room. He was flicking through a football magazine looking thoroughly bored. Afterall, football only has one ball.
"Hello Oliver!" Harry replied cheerfully.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked.
"Waiting to see the dentist, as one does in a dentist's waiting room. Why? What are you doing here?"
"You-know-who locked us up in his secret dungeons, which are down those stairs of you're wondering." Hermione said. "But why would they be underneath a dentist's surgery?"
Oliver shrugged. "Cheap rental I guess."
"Oh." Hermione said, still not sure. Harry and Ron, on the other foot, were completely satisfied with that response, and proceeded to leave.
"Well, bye Oliver!" they sang.
"Bye! Say 'hi' to Fred and George for me!"
"Will do." Ron saluted Oliver and dragged Hermione out of the waiting room, despite her being annoyingly suspiscious about something that wasn't even going to be mentioned again in the story.
Back at the Burrow, Molly Weasly watched the clock hand for Ron (and friends) go from 'In extreme peril from horror of strawberry jam' to 'Finally escaped dungeon/waiting room and on way home'. She immediately began preparing some food as she knew how being imprisoned under a dentist's surgery could work up an appetite. Don't ask how she knew. That's rude. Just accept that she knew, okay?
Anyway, Ron, Hermione and Harry came tumbling though the door and sat down at the kitchen table. Molly set endless amounts of food before them and encouraged them to eat.
"Bad day?" she asked soothingly.
"Oh, the usual." Ron sighed. Everybody then attacked the mountain of food until their respective stomachs were well and truly stuffed.
Well, there you go. My vain attempt at humour. Let me know what you think, and that is an ORDER not a request. Flames are a welcome source of entertainment. I reply to every one.
lianadragonmaster: Hilarious? Thankies! Trust me, it can get sooo much more random. I could have mentioned the small little Krinks that were watching them from the rafters, or the headless pencils, doomed forever to be without an eraser upon their crowns. But that stuff was irrelevant, so i left it out. (grins)
crazyhippo: wow, i luv ur name. Stupid, weird, freakish, demented; such delightful adjectives i could only dream of being used to describe my work! I'm glad you liked it. I was worried i was gonna get some of those people who say 'Random does not equal funny', in which case I would have fonged them (how much do you love A Knight's Tale?). Life is funny. My life is random. Therefore random does equal funny. Who agrees with me? Rise up! We shall prove to the world that...um...well thanks for reviewing!
Veritas: Oh, my dear child! I am so glad you appreciate my use of your genius line, for this little rambling would have been nothing without it! Nothing! So glad you found the rest of it hilarious too. Afterall, life without laughter is life without funnies! (That was not intended to make any sense, just in case you were wondering) So sorry I took so long to reply, again. My, I have become a lazy replier! Oh, the horror! Thanks for reviewing, you brightened up my day!
Joe The Mow: oO I am alarmed that you of all people have read my slash work. Very alarmed. However, since you shower this little ditty with a resounding 'woot!' I will merely grin and thank you for dropping by. Hopefully the 'my fingers are stuck' line makes sense now. I wasn't lying when I said it wasn't rude.
Joe The Mow: Back again? Hm...it must be good. Do not threaten me with a pregnant man! (pauses for moment in utter confusion)...anyway, this is a one shot and it's all you're getting, but thankies for saying it was funny and all that other stuff you said. (grins) (dies) Ha! Now you will get no more regardless of your need for Pringles!
whitey: gracias, and that's about as complex as i get, fool! (grins)
Qwan: cries with pure happiness You praise me too much! I knew this would appeal to your sense of humour, but I didn't think it would have been worthy of rozza hitting you SEVEN times to get you to stop laughing! (sends out cyber huggles) You utter sweetheart, you! Thank you soooooooo much! (although I think rozza was being a bit harsh when hitting you)