Harry Potter and the Loony
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts, Voldemort and Godric's Hollow all belong to JK
Rowling. The Wizzo Chocolate Company and Crunchy Frogs belong to whoever own Monty Python.
And, I guess I got the idea for the arguments from Monty Python's argument clinic sketch. The basic idea
belongs to Flourish and every thing else belongs to me.
************************************************
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the Defense Against the Dark
Arts classroom on the first day of their fourth year at Hogwarts. They knew
that the teacher's name was Nixon, but that was all. They were all eager to
see what he was like. The man they assumed was the teacher was very tall
with salt and pepper hair. He looked very stuck up to Harry.
They sat down in their normal seats and waited for class to start. The
bell rang. Nothing happened. The new professor just sat there and stared at
the students as if he expected them to start the lesson. No one said anything
for a very long time.
Finally the professor said, "Well, I see that I'll have to be the one to
get the ball rolling." He opened a book and started scribbling away in it.
Harry could have sworn he heard him mutter something about not taking
initiative and cluck his tongue. "Who knows anything about green
butterflies?" asked the professor.
Every head in the class turned to Hermione. She looked insulted at
first and crossed her hands over her chest, but then she meekly raised her
hand when it became clear that no one else would. The professor looked at
her with vague surprise and nodded for her to enlighten the class.
"Green butterflies are very rare creatures that feed on Evil in its liquid
form." Harry thought Hermione had gone crazy, because he didn't think that
Evil had specific forms. The teacher shook his head and clucked his tongue
some more.
"I'm sorry Miss…ahh…Granger, but that's not right." The whole class
looked hocked, Hermione most of all.
"But, yes it is," she argued.
The teacher looked at her with the same vague surprise he had shown
before. "No, it's not.
"Yes it is, it says so right in my book. I'll show you."
"Very well." Hermione grabbed the book under her desk and turned
the pages furiously. Harry could tell that she knew what she was looking
for.
She found the page she was looking for and read. "'Green butterflies
are the rarest butterflies anywhere. They are useful n fighting the Dark Arts
because they feed on liquefied Evil.'" Hermione looked up to find that the
professor's smug look mirrored her own.
"You see," he said. "You were wrong." Hermione was about to
protest, but the professor didn't give her the chance. "Well, as you all know,
I am Professor Nixon. I'm not an easy man to get along with and this class
will be no cakewalk for you, as you no doubt see from the very first question
I ask." Harry stared at Professor Nixon with the rest of the class.
The rest of the class went on I much the same manner. He asked
questions and when a student gave him a right answer he told them it was
wrong. The student was forced to look it up and read what they had said
before and the professor looked smug and said, "See, I told you. You were
wrong."
By the end of class, Harry was thoroughly sick and tired of it. He
could see that Hermione was worse off. Professor Nixon had just got
through telling her that she should maybe try letting the other students have
a chance, because she obviously wasn't getting the right answers.
When the bell rang for lunch, Professor Nixon called Harry over to his
desk. Ron told him that he and Hermione would wait outside for him.
"Harry Potter, I've been told by the Defense Against the Dark Arts
League, of which I am a part of, to relay the message that the simulation will
be held tonight at seven o'clock." With that announcement, he seemed to
forget that harry was even there, so harry left.
"What was that all about?" Ron asked.
"The simulation's tonight."
"Oh, I'd forgotten about that," Hermione said. "I don't know why you
agreed to do that for, Harry. It's morbid." The Defense Against the Dark
Arts League had come to Harry a few weeks ago, asking him whether he
wanted to participate in a simulation of the night his parents were killed.
They said it was to see if there was something no one had noticed about how
Harry defeated Voldemort that would help the League defeat he. Harry had
agreed to help because he wanted to do whatever he could to stop
Voldemort. But Hermione was right. It was morbid, and Harry was having
second thoughts.
"I can't back out now," Harry said. Then he changed the subject.
"That new professor is a member of the League. He was kinda strange,
wasn't he?"
Hermione made a rude sound and sat down very angrily. Ron laughed
a little. "Well, he's a loony for sure. But, I don't mind him all that much.
It'll be fun to live for a year with him."
"So you don't thin he'll last either?" Harry asked.
"Making us repeat everything ten times? No, Dumbledore won't
allow it." Then Ron added mischievously, "If he lives."
Hermione glared at Ron. Harry knew she was very annoyed at
Professor Nixon. It didn't matter that she did get everything right, even
though he denied it.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully and Harry soon found that was
almost time to ride out to the house at Godric's Hollow with Professor
Nixon, who was apparently part of the simulation as well. Harry was
dreading the flight. He was afraid there would be some ridiculous argument.
He met the professor outside the main entrance. He was finishing a
box of chocolates off, and offered Harry one.
"Would you like a crunchy frog?"
"Is ti like a chocolate frog?"
The professor looked insulted. "Oh, no. Those aren't real frogs at
all."
"And those are?" Harry asked a little sick at the thought.
"Yes. Wizzo chocolates uses only the finest baby frogs picked and
flown in from Iraq and cleased in the finest quality spring water. They're
then wrapped in a Swiss milk chocolate envelope and lightly glazed with
glucose," the professor explained as if that it made it better.
"Don't they tke the bones out?"
"If they took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?" Harry
couldn't argue, nor did he particularly want to. He just mounted his broom
and flew off in the right direction. Professor Nixon flew out in front after a
while and they landed in front of the house that had been completely
restored by some American person named Bob Vila.
Harry walked in to find that a woman with short red hair was sitting
in one of the chairs and arguing with the person who seemed to be in charge.
"She just had a new baby. She might have been knitting baby
booties," the woman was saying. The man she was arguing with rolled his
eyes and she gave a triumphant smile and went back to the knitting in her
lap.
The man turned to Harry. "Well, I'm Ernest Baum. I'll be portraying
Voldemort tonight. This woman here is Katherine Higgins. She'll be your
mother. And your very own Professor Nixon will help us out by being your
father. I want to thank you for helping us out. I don't expect that you'll
understand much what we're looking for. I hope this won't be too painful."
Harry nodded and smiled encouragingly. "Where do I go?" Ernest
looked embarrassed at the question. "Well, you were a baby at the time,
and…" Harry looked over near Katherine. There was a crib on one side of
her. Harry sighed, but he went over there and got in the crib. Ernest smiled.
"Places everyone. Try to make it as accurate as possible. I'll be
outside waiting to come in." Ernest walked outside. The door shut behind
him, and Harry could hear some strange noises coming from the other side.
Katherine and Professor Nixon didn't look too worried, so Harry put it out of
his mind.
"Well, Kath…I mean Lily," said Professor Nixon, "I'm sure glad that
Voldemort won't be able to find us here. My best friend Sirius will never
crack." Harry was about to speak up and tell them that Sirius wasn't the
secret keeper, but he figured they'd never believe him.
"Yes, um, James. Sirius is a good trustworthy person." Neither of
them spoke for a long time. They seemed to be waiting for something.
Finally Katherine repeated, "Good, trustworthy person," a little louder.
There was a knock at the door and the two adults smiled. Harry figured that
was Ernest's cue.
But Ernest wasn't at the door. Instead a hooded figure barged in past
Professor Nixon: Voldemort. "I'm sorry for missing my," the figure cleared
his throat, "cue. But that wasn't how it happened you know. I thought I'd
come by to check your accuracy, because little Harry wouldn't do much
good for remembering." Harry saw that Katherine had stopped knitting and
had gone very pale. Harry was incredibly frightened himself, but when he
looked at Professor Nixon, Harry saw he had the same look of vague
surprise he had in class.
"And who would you be?" the professor asked, quite politely.
Voldemort was stunned for a moment and Harry thought that the professor
would attack him while he was in this state. The professor did nothing but
wait for an answer.
"I am Lord Voldemort, of course!" said Voldemort in a very menacing
voice.
"No you're not." Harry hadn't thought it possible, but Voldemort
looked even more shocked than before.
"What? Yes I am!"
"No, you're not."
"Why don't you believe that I'm Lord Voldemort?" Harry wasn't quite
sure how all this was helping, but none of them were dead yet. Except
maybe Ernest.
"Because I am Lord Voldemort," the professor responded as if it was
the most natural answer in the world and Voldemort was an idiot for not
knowing. Harry was reminded briefly of Hermione in Voldemort's reaction.
"NO YOU'RE NOT!" Voldemort screamed.
"Yes, I am," said the professor, not moved in the slightest. "My name
is Voldemort Nixon and my title before I became a professor was Lord.
Therefore I am Lord Voldemort."
Voldemort stood there staring at Professor Nixon. He was very
confused, by now and didn't notice Katherine slipping by him to run out the
door. Harry was thinking that he would do the same, but Professor Nixon
turned to him and asked, "Harry, what night is it?"
Harry glared at the professor for drawing attention to him and said
through clenched teeth, "It's Thursday."
"Oh, well, I'm sorry, sir," the professor said to Voldemort. "But I
really do have to be going now. I'm going to miss ER if I don't leave now. I
do love that show. Very realistic portrayal of the high stress emergency
room, you know."
"Oh, it is time for ER, isn't it?" Voldemort asked. "Can't we just
watch it here…wait! I've got it. I'll prove to you that I'm Lord Voldemort.
Harry, be a dear and get me a knife." Harry stared for a minute and then
looked at the professor.
"Oh, not this again," Nixon said, rolling his eyes. "Very well. Get the
knife, Harry." Harry knew that Professor Nixon must have a plan. But he
also remembered what Ron had said. The professor very well could just be
some loony. Harry brought the knife to the professor who gave it to
Voldemort. Voldemort took a cup off the mantle and slit his hand. The
blood that ran out had a definite greenish tinge to it.
"There, you see? Voldemort is evil, so he has Evil coursing through
his veins," said Voldemort as the blood dripped down into the cup. "That's
Evil right there, so I must be Voldemort."
"That's quite astounding logic, sir, but that's not Evil."
"YES IT IS!"
"No, it isn't."
"YES IT IS. IT IS PURE CONCENTRATED, LIQUEFIED EVIL!"
"Oh, well, I suppose you're right, now that I look at it. Very potent
stuff, that is. Amathanio Flius Boot!" Professor Nixon had taken his wand
out for the last part and green butterflies soon filled the room. Voldemort
screamed and Harry knew that they were attacking the Dark Lord.
The room cleared after a while and Voldemort was laying, unmoving,
on the floor. Professor Nixon kicked him. No response. The professor
checked his watch. "Well, Harry, I don't live at Hogwarts, and now I must
go home and watch my show. I trust you can find your way back alone?"
Harry nodded, amazed. "Good. You should probably mention this to
Professor Dumbledore."
The professor then mounted his broom and left. Harry stood there
staring for a while, then he shrugged to himself and left for Hogwarts.
THE END
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts, Voldemort and Godric's Hollow all belong to JK
Rowling. The Wizzo Chocolate Company and Crunchy Frogs belong to whoever own Monty Python.
And, I guess I got the idea for the arguments from Monty Python's argument clinic sketch. The basic idea
belongs to Flourish and every thing else belongs to me.
************************************************
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the Defense Against the Dark
Arts classroom on the first day of their fourth year at Hogwarts. They knew
that the teacher's name was Nixon, but that was all. They were all eager to
see what he was like. The man they assumed was the teacher was very tall
with salt and pepper hair. He looked very stuck up to Harry.
They sat down in their normal seats and waited for class to start. The
bell rang. Nothing happened. The new professor just sat there and stared at
the students as if he expected them to start the lesson. No one said anything
for a very long time.
Finally the professor said, "Well, I see that I'll have to be the one to
get the ball rolling." He opened a book and started scribbling away in it.
Harry could have sworn he heard him mutter something about not taking
initiative and cluck his tongue. "Who knows anything about green
butterflies?" asked the professor.
Every head in the class turned to Hermione. She looked insulted at
first and crossed her hands over her chest, but then she meekly raised her
hand when it became clear that no one else would. The professor looked at
her with vague surprise and nodded for her to enlighten the class.
"Green butterflies are very rare creatures that feed on Evil in its liquid
form." Harry thought Hermione had gone crazy, because he didn't think that
Evil had specific forms. The teacher shook his head and clucked his tongue
some more.
"I'm sorry Miss…ahh…Granger, but that's not right." The whole class
looked hocked, Hermione most of all.
"But, yes it is," she argued.
The teacher looked at her with the same vague surprise he had shown
before. "No, it's not.
"Yes it is, it says so right in my book. I'll show you."
"Very well." Hermione grabbed the book under her desk and turned
the pages furiously. Harry could tell that she knew what she was looking
for.
She found the page she was looking for and read. "'Green butterflies
are the rarest butterflies anywhere. They are useful n fighting the Dark Arts
because they feed on liquefied Evil.'" Hermione looked up to find that the
professor's smug look mirrored her own.
"You see," he said. "You were wrong." Hermione was about to
protest, but the professor didn't give her the chance. "Well, as you all know,
I am Professor Nixon. I'm not an easy man to get along with and this class
will be no cakewalk for you, as you no doubt see from the very first question
I ask." Harry stared at Professor Nixon with the rest of the class.
The rest of the class went on I much the same manner. He asked
questions and when a student gave him a right answer he told them it was
wrong. The student was forced to look it up and read what they had said
before and the professor looked smug and said, "See, I told you. You were
wrong."
By the end of class, Harry was thoroughly sick and tired of it. He
could see that Hermione was worse off. Professor Nixon had just got
through telling her that she should maybe try letting the other students have
a chance, because she obviously wasn't getting the right answers.
When the bell rang for lunch, Professor Nixon called Harry over to his
desk. Ron told him that he and Hermione would wait outside for him.
"Harry Potter, I've been told by the Defense Against the Dark Arts
League, of which I am a part of, to relay the message that the simulation will
be held tonight at seven o'clock." With that announcement, he seemed to
forget that harry was even there, so harry left.
"What was that all about?" Ron asked.
"The simulation's tonight."
"Oh, I'd forgotten about that," Hermione said. "I don't know why you
agreed to do that for, Harry. It's morbid." The Defense Against the Dark
Arts League had come to Harry a few weeks ago, asking him whether he
wanted to participate in a simulation of the night his parents were killed.
They said it was to see if there was something no one had noticed about how
Harry defeated Voldemort that would help the League defeat he. Harry had
agreed to help because he wanted to do whatever he could to stop
Voldemort. But Hermione was right. It was morbid, and Harry was having
second thoughts.
"I can't back out now," Harry said. Then he changed the subject.
"That new professor is a member of the League. He was kinda strange,
wasn't he?"
Hermione made a rude sound and sat down very angrily. Ron laughed
a little. "Well, he's a loony for sure. But, I don't mind him all that much.
It'll be fun to live for a year with him."
"So you don't thin he'll last either?" Harry asked.
"Making us repeat everything ten times? No, Dumbledore won't
allow it." Then Ron added mischievously, "If he lives."
Hermione glared at Ron. Harry knew she was very annoyed at
Professor Nixon. It didn't matter that she did get everything right, even
though he denied it.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully and Harry soon found that was
almost time to ride out to the house at Godric's Hollow with Professor
Nixon, who was apparently part of the simulation as well. Harry was
dreading the flight. He was afraid there would be some ridiculous argument.
He met the professor outside the main entrance. He was finishing a
box of chocolates off, and offered Harry one.
"Would you like a crunchy frog?"
"Is ti like a chocolate frog?"
The professor looked insulted. "Oh, no. Those aren't real frogs at
all."
"And those are?" Harry asked a little sick at the thought.
"Yes. Wizzo chocolates uses only the finest baby frogs picked and
flown in from Iraq and cleased in the finest quality spring water. They're
then wrapped in a Swiss milk chocolate envelope and lightly glazed with
glucose," the professor explained as if that it made it better.
"Don't they tke the bones out?"
"If they took the bones out, it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?" Harry
couldn't argue, nor did he particularly want to. He just mounted his broom
and flew off in the right direction. Professor Nixon flew out in front after a
while and they landed in front of the house that had been completely
restored by some American person named Bob Vila.
Harry walked in to find that a woman with short red hair was sitting
in one of the chairs and arguing with the person who seemed to be in charge.
"She just had a new baby. She might have been knitting baby
booties," the woman was saying. The man she was arguing with rolled his
eyes and she gave a triumphant smile and went back to the knitting in her
lap.
The man turned to Harry. "Well, I'm Ernest Baum. I'll be portraying
Voldemort tonight. This woman here is Katherine Higgins. She'll be your
mother. And your very own Professor Nixon will help us out by being your
father. I want to thank you for helping us out. I don't expect that you'll
understand much what we're looking for. I hope this won't be too painful."
Harry nodded and smiled encouragingly. "Where do I go?" Ernest
looked embarrassed at the question. "Well, you were a baby at the time,
and…" Harry looked over near Katherine. There was a crib on one side of
her. Harry sighed, but he went over there and got in the crib. Ernest smiled.
"Places everyone. Try to make it as accurate as possible. I'll be
outside waiting to come in." Ernest walked outside. The door shut behind
him, and Harry could hear some strange noises coming from the other side.
Katherine and Professor Nixon didn't look too worried, so Harry put it out of
his mind.
"Well, Kath…I mean Lily," said Professor Nixon, "I'm sure glad that
Voldemort won't be able to find us here. My best friend Sirius will never
crack." Harry was about to speak up and tell them that Sirius wasn't the
secret keeper, but he figured they'd never believe him.
"Yes, um, James. Sirius is a good trustworthy person." Neither of
them spoke for a long time. They seemed to be waiting for something.
Finally Katherine repeated, "Good, trustworthy person," a little louder.
There was a knock at the door and the two adults smiled. Harry figured that
was Ernest's cue.
But Ernest wasn't at the door. Instead a hooded figure barged in past
Professor Nixon: Voldemort. "I'm sorry for missing my," the figure cleared
his throat, "cue. But that wasn't how it happened you know. I thought I'd
come by to check your accuracy, because little Harry wouldn't do much
good for remembering." Harry saw that Katherine had stopped knitting and
had gone very pale. Harry was incredibly frightened himself, but when he
looked at Professor Nixon, Harry saw he had the same look of vague
surprise he had in class.
"And who would you be?" the professor asked, quite politely.
Voldemort was stunned for a moment and Harry thought that the professor
would attack him while he was in this state. The professor did nothing but
wait for an answer.
"I am Lord Voldemort, of course!" said Voldemort in a very menacing
voice.
"No you're not." Harry hadn't thought it possible, but Voldemort
looked even more shocked than before.
"What? Yes I am!"
"No, you're not."
"Why don't you believe that I'm Lord Voldemort?" Harry wasn't quite
sure how all this was helping, but none of them were dead yet. Except
maybe Ernest.
"Because I am Lord Voldemort," the professor responded as if it was
the most natural answer in the world and Voldemort was an idiot for not
knowing. Harry was reminded briefly of Hermione in Voldemort's reaction.
"NO YOU'RE NOT!" Voldemort screamed.
"Yes, I am," said the professor, not moved in the slightest. "My name
is Voldemort Nixon and my title before I became a professor was Lord.
Therefore I am Lord Voldemort."
Voldemort stood there staring at Professor Nixon. He was very
confused, by now and didn't notice Katherine slipping by him to run out the
door. Harry was thinking that he would do the same, but Professor Nixon
turned to him and asked, "Harry, what night is it?"
Harry glared at the professor for drawing attention to him and said
through clenched teeth, "It's Thursday."
"Oh, well, I'm sorry, sir," the professor said to Voldemort. "But I
really do have to be going now. I'm going to miss ER if I don't leave now. I
do love that show. Very realistic portrayal of the high stress emergency
room, you know."
"Oh, it is time for ER, isn't it?" Voldemort asked. "Can't we just
watch it here…wait! I've got it. I'll prove to you that I'm Lord Voldemort.
Harry, be a dear and get me a knife." Harry stared for a minute and then
looked at the professor.
"Oh, not this again," Nixon said, rolling his eyes. "Very well. Get the
knife, Harry." Harry knew that Professor Nixon must have a plan. But he
also remembered what Ron had said. The professor very well could just be
some loony. Harry brought the knife to the professor who gave it to
Voldemort. Voldemort took a cup off the mantle and slit his hand. The
blood that ran out had a definite greenish tinge to it.
"There, you see? Voldemort is evil, so he has Evil coursing through
his veins," said Voldemort as the blood dripped down into the cup. "That's
Evil right there, so I must be Voldemort."
"That's quite astounding logic, sir, but that's not Evil."
"YES IT IS!"
"No, it isn't."
"YES IT IS. IT IS PURE CONCENTRATED, LIQUEFIED EVIL!"
"Oh, well, I suppose you're right, now that I look at it. Very potent
stuff, that is. Amathanio Flius Boot!" Professor Nixon had taken his wand
out for the last part and green butterflies soon filled the room. Voldemort
screamed and Harry knew that they were attacking the Dark Lord.
The room cleared after a while and Voldemort was laying, unmoving,
on the floor. Professor Nixon kicked him. No response. The professor
checked his watch. "Well, Harry, I don't live at Hogwarts, and now I must
go home and watch my show. I trust you can find your way back alone?"
Harry nodded, amazed. "Good. You should probably mention this to
Professor Dumbledore."
The professor then mounted his broom and left. Harry stood there
staring for a while, then he shrugged to himself and left for Hogwarts.
THE END