If, at any point during the course of this or subsequent chapters, you feel nausea, headaches, experience hallucinations and a slight urge to kill, then you are most likely crazy. Consult your doctor immediately, and for the safety of us all, stay away from sharp objects. Please.
Also, if at any point during the course of this or subsequent chapters, you feel a strangely happy feeling, a twinge in your stomach, and start making short, loud sounds repeatedly, there is no need for worry. You are laughing. Of course, this is perfectly normal.
NOTE: The majority of people who have read this story have undergone the first set of symptoms rather than the second. Hmm…
Harry Potter lay awake in his dormitory bed, thinking. What was he thinking of? Quite a few things. He was thinking about how exciting his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be. He was thinking about the new Quidditch season. He was thinking about the large increase in work the Sixth years were supposed to get.
But most of all, Harry was thinking about the chicken. The live chicken that had just broken through the curtains of his four-poster bed and was currently pecking at his face.
It took Harry's mind but a few seconds to comprehend what was happening. Live… chicken… broken… through… curtains… pecking… face…
"Oh my gosh, I forgot to put down the toilet seat, and someone's going to be REALLY mad at me in the morning!" Harry's mind screamed. But then he remembered that this was a boy's dormitory, so "putting down the seat" didn't really matter. His mind at peace, he went back to thinking.
It took Harry's mind a bit more time to correctly comprehend what was happening.
"WHAT… THE… HECK?" Harry shouted, immediately sitting up straight in his bed, sending the chicken flapping away. He tried to make a blind grab for it, but missed and fell over. The chicken ran away, clucking and squawking, back through the curtains and out of Harry's sight.
Harry fumbled for his glasses and got out of his bed. He pushed aside the curtains and peered around in the dark. No sign of the chicken…
"Harry, what's with all the racket?" Mumbled Ron sleepily, emerging from the curtains of his bed.
"I… I don't know," said Harry, still looking around in the dark.
"Then go back to bed." Said Ron, starting to turn away.
Suddenly, Harry felt a large and very painful thump on his head. He let out a yelp, realizing the chicken had just dropped onto his head from above.
"WHAT THE-?" Said Harry frantically. "But I saw him run out- he was just- how did he get up there-?"
Harry grabbed the chicken very roughly and looked straight into its eyes, as Ron's own eyes widened.
"I don't know why you've come into my life…" said Harry very menacingly, tightening his grip on the chicken's feathers, "but before I pluck out all your feathers and roast you over a fire until you're all plump and juicy, and then have you for dinner and possibly an early-morning snack, you are going to answer me this… how did you just do that?"
"Um, Harry…" said Ron slowly, "Forgive me for asking, but… why are you talking to a chicken?"
Harry looked from Ron to the chicken and back.
"Um… could we just… you know, forget this ever happened?" asked Harry sheepishly.
"Whatever. I'm just going back to bed."
"All right." Said Harry. He snatched his wand from his bedside table and aimed it directly at the chicken. "And now for you!"
The chicken gave out one last mighty cluck before it was hit by Harry's spell. A second later, it turned into… a pair of ladies underwear.
"WHOA!" said Harry, who meant to turn it into a nondescript book. "Why did it turn into women's underwear?" Then he realized the wand he was holding was Ron's wand. "Oh, this is Ron's wand."
"Wait… this is Ron's wand!" he repeated, wondering if it would be logical to put two and two together. But he shook the thought out of his head, grabbed his own wand, and turned the underwear into a nondescript book.
Then, he got back into his bed. Brushing away the stray feathers, he got under the covers, and put his glasses and wand aside. His last thought before he fell asleep again was, "What a weird night…"
Meanwhile, two men, a tall one and a short one, cleverly hidden in the shadows of the dorm room, watched as Harry fell asleep.
"Curses!" whispered the tall one. "I was sure the chicken would get him!"
"Yes, that Potter is a smart one." Agreed the short one quietly. "But don't worry. We'll do him in. Mark my words, before the year is finished, Potter will die!"
"AH HA HA HA HAA!" roared the tall one, thinking it appropriate to burst into evil laughter at the time. The short one, however, disagreed.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Hissed the short one.
"Um… bursting into evil laughter?"
"You IDIOT! We can't be discovered! If we blow our cover, we're done for!"
"…And?"
"Bursting into evil laughter is a sufficient way to blow our cover!"
"No it's not. Our cover isn't blown."
"Well, it could have been!"
"But it wasn't."
"That's the line of reasoning I'd expect from a child!"
"Are you saying I'm not manly enough for you?"
"… WHAAAT?"
"I believe you are too uptight."
At this point, the short one slapped the tall one.
"I'm the leader of this group, am I not?" asked the short one.
"Yes."
"Then SHUT UP!"
"SHUT UP!" came the voice from behind the curtains of one of the beds. A shoe came flying at the two men.
It then became apparent to both the tall one and the short one that during that particular exchange, they had idiotically forgotten to lower their voices. They looked at each other in horror.
"Take… evasive… action!" Whispered the short one to the tall one. The tall one nodded. They sprinted to the dorm window, opened it, and threw themselves to the ground far below.
Combined, they each suffered 7 broken bones, multiple bruises, and a concussion.
That's it for the first chapter of my first fanfic. Yes, this is my first. I'm new at this. I'll admit… it's fun.
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