DISCLAIMER: we own squat except maybe the awesomeness, that was all us, and PANZERO yeah…

FIRE AND ICE LAND

On a midsummer's eve far far away from Ice land and really having nothing to do with Ice land a girl woke abruptly from a disturbing dream, now back to the story that was just to keep you on your toes because this story is set in…France.

France, a stunning country filled with lakes, Rivers and really attractive girls. We think. We've never actually been there, but I've heard it's quite nice when you have a packed lunch in the hall in France. Well back to the story… because it is actually set in Ice land, if you haven't got that by now.

In an ice palace in Iceland there resides a Professional wrestler by the name of Panzero

Meanwhile at Hogwarts

Draco's foot made contact with Harry's head. Harry collapsed over with a load clunk as his head hit the carpeted floor of the train compartment.

"You mess with my Charizard Potter, You mess with me." Harry looked up with a tear in his eye, his mind racing and his head pounding.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I don't even like Pokemon. I never knew you could sink so low…"

"don't lie to me potter what we're you doing in my compartment if you didn't want my prized Charizard"

"This is my Compartment…see Ron and Hermione sitting there…you just came here and kicked me in the head." Draco looked around the compartment with bewilderment in his eyes before turning back to Harry with a glare.

"So it would seem Potter, so it would seem, I'll be seeing you but you'll only be seeing my foot. Stupid." Draco turned and left the compartment muttering something that sounded a lot like "Damn that could have been better…"

"Harry, Harry are you alright?" yelled Hermione "Oh my God, of course you're not! He ruined your best shirt!"

Harry just sighed and got to his feet, "Hermione, I'm not really worried about my shirt."

Hermione looked dumbfounded, "But, you should be, it was the only good shirt you owned!"

"In all honesty, I'm more worried about my head."

"Head-fixy-thinger-el-mendo-yeah…!" Hermione said as she brandished her wand. A thin red beam (kind of like those laser pointers you get for office use) shot from her scrawny wand and blasted Harry on the top of the head and cured his head maladies.

"Thanks, Hermione. I should remember that one."

"You should remember your mom! Oh, BURN!" Ron shouted from his seat.

"Ron… my mom's dead."

"OH, BURN!!!!!" He shouted once more. Hermione turned and hit him over the back of the head.

"What did I do!?" he yelled in protest. Harry hung his head in shame He had trouble remembering exactly why he hung out with these people.

"Have you guy's thought about what you will be doing after graduation?"

Ron turned to Hermione and let out a long, very long, annoying, exasperated sigh, "I was thinking of joining Chippendales. I heard their calendars were pretty awesome." Harry looked up with excitement, "Do you think I would have a chance?"

Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry awkwardly. "That was sarcasm, Harry."

"What…" the awkwardness continued. "Oh… yeah… I knew that." Harry looked down once more pretending to fix his already bloodstained shirt.

The silence was suddenly broken by a faint sound of We All Live In a Yellow Submarine.

"What is that?" Ron asked, "It sounds like a dying cat."

"No, Ron, those are called bagpipes, this sound is more like a cow exploding from stepping on a landmine." Hermione stated.

"No," Harry said, "No, I don't think so. It kind of reminds me of a dinosaur getting trapped in a tar pit." Everyone nodded in agreement, even the people outside of the compartment that were no part in the conversation.

Just as horrible as it sounded behind glass, the sound was suddenly in the compartment and incredibly worse. Neville had stepped through the door singing at the top of his lungs.

"WE ALL LIVE IN A-Oh, my God, Harry! What happened to your shirt?"

Harry sighed, "Well, actually, I was kicked in the head."

"Yeah," Neville said, "But, will that stain come out? It looks really bad? You might want to go change. Someone might see you. Speaking of changing though, you might want to change soon. We're almost there. Robes on!"

"Thank you, someone who actually understands style!" Hermione happily mentioned.

"Well, seriously, would Paul McCartney wear that? I think not."

Harry proceeded to undress himself in the midst of company when he was abruptly stopped by shouts of protest from Ron and Hermione.

"You're hot, but you're not that hot." Hermione scolded Harry.

"I have nothing more to say to you…"Ron said as he shielded his eyes.

"Sorry I guess…I'll go to the bathroom then…"

It was a long and awkward skulk to the bathroom a million things going through his mind…like who is the new defence against the dark arts teacher, What is Voldemort planning next, and who will be the next American idol!

A/N: That's a bit of fun there…I hope you enjoyed it cause there will be more to come BRUHAHAHHA sorry my bad.