DISCLAIMER: I am making no money off of this, and this site isn't either. This is purely fan-fiction written by a weird person who has absolutely nothing better to do than write this stuff. I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, etc. J.K.R. does. Neither do I own Starbucks, Princess Lea, Star Wars, Johnny Depp, or anything else that I talk about in here. But I do have some of my own original characters (er, character. Cherry the Narrator. Woot!) in here. Please don't take her! However, if you do, I can't see what I can do about it. Just refrain, please?

Note: I wrote the first seven of these Trivial Delays while not making a point to avoid mediocrity, almost two years ago. But I do not care to change them. I uploaded them one at a time, as I wrote them, eager to increase my number of stories. But in these times when my count is far higher, they were cluttering up my profile something awful. Their stench has been getting to me more and more until today I finally decided to put them all where they all belong: condensed into one 'story'. You can see my improved writing skills with the tales following 'Chapter 7'. Each was originally produced on an individual basis, and is not intended to be serious work. Consider each chapter as a new story, in other words, and don't criticize my writing skills for seriously depleting in a day. I know my work is significantly better nowadays, thanks very much. Now surrender yourself to strange randomness.

A Trivial Delay on the Way to Starbucks

It is August. The sparse and occasional trees that dot the sidewalks of the Muggle L.A. suburb in heated California don't look anywhere close to shedding their leaves come fall. The heat is abominable, the air so heavy and solid you might have been able to slice it. The palm trees stand majestically over everything, and, due to their extreme popularity in this near-desert, are visible in any direction you might choose to turn your head. The sky is the bluest of blues, and is almost unbelievably so. A gentle, wispy cloud mars its deep fathomless depth, slowly rolling across the sky as though oblivious to the fact that it didn't belong there.

If one merely turned from walking along the side of the main highway onto a side road, one suddenly encountered a residential area. Not over-large houses lined the street on either side, their yards most often in a very deplorable order with parched dry grass in the lawns and dying flowers in the planters. Most of these houses also could have done with a good paint job, too, but, then, most of the cars that stood outside of the houses could have done with more.

It was down one of these sideroad's sidewalks that a tall figure clad in all black (Muggle clothes, though) stalked determinedly. His long lanky hair blew only with the force of his motion in the stagnant air. His fingers, long and clawlike, he alternately wrung together in agitation or stuck in the pockets of his dark jeans. And scarily enough, he was wearing a long-sleeved sweater even as the heat seemed to radiate from the very concrete beneath him. The only non-menacing thing about this man was the fact that he was headed towards a Starbucks. Of course, this was our favorite snarky old professor, Severus Snape. But what in heaven's name is he doing in the States, much less in California? Well, let's try and find out.

A teenage girl with a notepad and pencil jumps out of one of the bushes mere seconds after he passes. She's looking far less Muggle than Severus, with flowing robes of midnight blue color, almost black, and her long dirty-blonde hair done up like Princess Lea's from Star Wars. She looks, in fact, very much like Luna Lovegood…only she isn't. No, indeed, this is but the narrator/writer/authoress person, Cherry. She's in love with Severus but, since he doesn't exist in her world, she has had to come into his via her writing. Being careful not to be seen by him, she meanders a good thirty feet behind, writing this paragraph feverishly. Snape does not notice her nor does he even care if someone is behind him. His ultimate gain is to get to Starbucks, and nothing is going to stop him…

A random kid with a water gun in jams jumps out of the blue right into Severus' path, his gun raised defiantly at the professor's abnormally enlarged nose.

"Stick 'em up!" shrieks the kid, a big grin on his face.

…Well, maybe something was going to stop him. But not this brat in jams. Severus angrily glowered at the kid and tried to get past. However, the kid's two friends popped out of nowhere to help, and they all stood there, their arms raised and pointing at Severus, blocking the sidewalk. Cherry was laughing demonically behind them, but no one noticed her because she said so.

Severus sighed. Without a word, he gave the kids one last glare and stepped out into the street. That was a bad idea. Cherry instantly whipped up a giant oil truck out of thin air and it came down the road full speed at Severus. Severus leaped back just in time. Annoyingly, the truck parked right there and didn't do anything else. So, for Snape, it was either go up the street and come back a different way or get past the kids. And he had no time for the former (or so Cherry dictated it), so he settled for the latter.

"Kids, let me by." He assumed his most threatening tones. However, the kids just giggled.

"He talks funny" said one loudly.

Severus sneered. "I don't talk funny," he said superiorly, "I talk like an Englishman. Now let me by." His tone, and eyes for that matter, to any sane person would have also indicated, "…or else." However, he was no match for the kiddies. They began to randomly kick his shins like the little spoiled children that they were, laughing all the while. Whenever he tried to break out of their little circle either way, they would close around him and step on his feet.

Finally, amid all their torture, one of the kids asked, "Who are you, anyway?"

Snape was taken aback. Here he was, on a secret spy mission for Dumbledore (a/n: muahaha that means, to you people out there, that Dumbledore ISN'T DEAD, mind you…) and he was accosted by these infernal children who requested to know his name! He was angry, and he just blurt out a name that came randomly to his head. He thought he had seen it on a poster on a bus or somewhere, but he didn't care.

"Depp," he said savagely, trying more to shake the kids off.

"What's your first name?" they kept pestering him.

"John," he said quickly. "I'm John Depp, now leave me alone."

He was surprised when they actually did let go of his feet and stopped pointing the water pistols and actually stepped back with awe. Even at their age, they recognized and honored the name of the great Johnny Depp. Of course, Severus had no idea who the heck Johnny Depp was, much less why the kids were acting like they were.

"Um…bye now…" he said quickly, and tried to make his speedy departure. However…

"Mr. Depp?"

He spun around angrily. "What is it?"

The little kid beamed, holding up his water gun and a permanent marker he had found very conveniently on the ground thanks to Cherry's narrator powers. "Can I have your autograph?"

Snape mentally cursed. Well, he did so out loud. The kids stared. "Wow…" one of the kids said. "That was sooo cool! Bloody Hell!" he echoed Snape.

Snape smacked his forehead exasperatedly. "Blo--" he almost said again, but he caught himself just in time. "Children. Curse them all," he muttered under his breath. And before Cherry could delay him any further, he was off hurriedly down the street to Starbucks.

The End.

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Hey, I know it sucked, but please review anyhow! I wrote this in half an hour based on a burst of inspiration I had at two in the morning, you can't blame me!