MWPP-Mostly Weird Predictions by Potter
Harry stared at the chicken guts spread
over the table, and sighed. It was no use. All he could come up with was "You
will meet a dark, handsome man" and "Tomorrow you will make your fortune". He
picked up the teacup. It said the same things. Though…was that a club? Nah.
Just the same as all the rest. How could he ever get the predictions for the
rest of the next month?
Harry picked up his quill and doodled on
his page. Ron, sitting at the next desk, was doing the same. How to get
predictions? Make them up, copy Hermione's, try again with the chicken
guts…make them up. Yes. That was the way to do it. Harry got out another sheet
of parchment, and wrote his name at the top. Now, to the first day…
On the first of the month I shall suddenly
be surrounded by sinister presences.
So far, so good.
On the second of the month, a giant
swallow will drop a large, hairy inanimate object on my head.
Harry frowned. Not quite right, he
thought. He scrubbed it out.
On the second of the month, coconuts
will fall from the heavens.
Yes. He brightened. Much better.
On the third of the month, there will
be a mass exodus from our studies.
Harry smiled. He didn't mention what
class it was, but he knew which one he'd be walking out of.
On the fourth of the month, I shall be
struck down by lightning.
On the fifth of the month, my friends
shall leave me for a better cause, leaving me behind in a castle filled with
tap-dancing knights and sequinned vests.
A little frightening, that one, but then,
Trelawney liked this kind of stuff.
On the sixth of the month, the sky
will crash down among our feet.
On the seventh of the month, pigs,
elephants and other large animals will fly
On the eighth of the month, I will get
large…tracts of land after marrying some girl.
On the ninth of the month, a spectre
of the past shall jump up and attach itself to my cloak
On the tenth of the month, there shall
be three spirits taking the last train of the day to the coast.
On the eleventh of the month, a sign
will reveal the presence of a superior being
On the twelfth of the month, my true
love shall come to me.
On the thirteenth of the month, there
will be thunderstorms clearing to a light drizzle with a north-easterly wind,
freshening to the south, with an overnight low of 12 and a top of 19.
On the fourteenth of the month, 3
swallows bearing coconuts will defecate on my best friend's head.
On the fifteenth of the month, nobody
will expect the Spanish Inquisition-seeing as it is a Sunday, and all.
On the sixteenth of the month, I shall
be sent to cut down a tree with a herring.
On the seventeenth of the month, I
shall fall to an untimely death when I fly among the Snidgets.
On the eighteenth of the month, I will
be swallowed by a giant electric eel, and, after withstanding the gastric
juices, electricity and other menaces residing in it's interior, will come out
the other end to be attacked by a human-shark.
On the nineteenth of the month, the
news I am not dreading will be told to me in such a way that I will immediately
die.
On the twentieth of the month, the
birds will sing, the bees will buzz, and a dear friend will be murdered.
Harry shuddered. He hoped these things
wouldn't come true.
On the twenty-first of the month, a
respected teacher will be disgraced.
On the twenty-second of the month, the
apocalypse will come, decide it doesn't want to stay, then it will attack the
Vogons.
Harry looked at the page. Did he really
write these things? They seemed to be coming out by themselves. He didn't even know
what a Vogon was.
On the twenty-third of the month, a
two-headed man will approach me with a large bunch of flowers.
On the twenty-fourth of the month,
Loretta-
Harry frowned. Who was Loretta? He
shrugged and kept going.
On the twenty-fourth of the month,
Loretta will discover she is pregnant, and the baby will come to no good.
On the twenty-fifth of the month, a
star will shine brightly, having just exploded. It will then suck the rest of
the universe into itself, causing destruction on a universe-wide level.
On the twenty-sixth of the month, many
boxes containing butterbeer and chocolate will be found outside our portrait
hole. Dementors will follow soon after.
"What the hell?" Harry whispered.
Something weird was going on.
On the twenty-seventh, the dogs will
be let out. A particularly large black one will jump on my chest and nearly
drown me in its slobber. Then, after narrowly escaping it, I shall fall into a
large chasm.
On the twenty-eighth of the month,
nice men in white coats will come to take me away. Hopefully I won't die.
On the twenty-ninth of the month,
nothing particularly interesting will befall me, apart from the accosting I
will get from a fair-haired boy with stone grey eyes.
"Okay then." Harry muttered to himself.
These predictions were writing themselves, and they were really weird,
too.
On the thirtieth of the month, I will
find myself trapped in a cold, dank dungeon with musty drapes and tacky
lighting.
"All done." Harry said, as he yawned and
stretched. Divination wasn't all that hard, once you put your mind to it. He
looked down at the page. Underneath the thirtieth, there was one more
prediction. For the thirty-first. In his own handwriting.
On the thirty-first of the month, bad
things shall happen.
"There isn't even a thirty-first next
month, November's only got thirty days!" he laughed, as he packed up his stuff.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, expecting to see Ron or
Hermione.
"Hello there Harry. Everything okay?" A
black cloaked figure said in a whisper, holding up a little black box on a
tripod.
"Arrgh!" Harry jumped back and knocked
the table. He could hear the inkpot rattling behind him.
Colin Creevey pulled off the hood. "All
right, Harry?" he asked, looking at Harry questioningly.
"Uh, y-yes. Everything's o-okay." Harry
stammered, quickly edged around the table, then ran off up the stairs.
Colin sighed. It was so hard to
talk to Harry these days. And all he wanted was a photo.
A/N: I'm sure this isn't as good as the
original. Now, I shall leave you with a command of: REVIEW!! This is for two
purposes-so I know who's been reading my fics, so I know what you think of it
and what I should do next time. Three purposes-this is for three purposes-so I
know who's been reading my fics, I know what you think of it, what I should do
next time, and whether or not this is better than the original one. Four
purposes! Okay, I'll leave it at four. Fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency and
an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope! Whoops, wrong thing. Well, I'll leave
you know to get on with it. Go on, before the evil man hiding behind the
curtain gets you!
