Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, because I am not JK Rowling, as you
might have guessed, or thousands of ecstatic fans would be rushing toward
me in a huge mob, demanding autographs. Good thing I'm not her.
Harry Snotter was quite content, sitting on the Hogwarts Express with his two best friends, Ron Whiney and Hermione Grungy. Harry and Ron were stuffing their faces on Pumpkin Pastries after offering some to Hermione who politely refused ("Think of all the calories!"), and promptly buried her face in a book roughly the same size as her. Ron was pestering Harry to buy more so he could satisfy his greedy needs when Draco Malformed, Harry's archenemy, swaggered into their compartment, accompanied by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle (whose first names we are informed of once, but we will just refer to them by their last names, ok?).
"I am Draco Malformed, resident Hogwarts badass, hear me roar!" said Malformed.
"What are you doing here, Malformed?" asked Ron spitefully.
"Oh I don't know, I just thought I'd randomly swagger into your compartment to piss you off. Haven't we already established that that is my aim in life?"
At that very moment, a tall and ridiculously thin man strode into the compartment.
"He must be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" whispered Hermione, always the one quickest to catch on, excluding the fact that the only adults on the Hogwarts Express were the conductor and the lady with the cart of sweets, and the occasional Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
The man had two slanted red slits for eyes and, for some odd reason, held a rat in his hand.
"Hey, that looks a bit like Scabbers!" exclaimed Ron.
"It can't be Scabbers, Ron, remember? Scabbers is really Peter Pettigrew, who escaped to the dark wizard Moldywart and is helping him return to power," explained Harry.
"Oh yeah. Could you please refrain from saying his name?"
"NO! MOLDYWART MOLDYWART MOLDYWART! Yelled Harry. Ron clamped his hands over his ears.
"LA LA LA! I'M NOT LISTENING!" he shouted. Hermione rolled her eyes and sniffed haughtily.
"Could you two please stop your useless bickering? I'm trying to read 5,000,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi!" Ron and Harry rolled their eyes and automatically forgot about their squabble, enjoying themselves by making faces at Hermione.
After a while, however, Harry and Ron got bored, having the short attention spans they did. They roamed around the train, bumping into (literally) many of their friends, including Neville Reallylongbottom, who had succeeded, yet again, in setting himself on fire. They also met with Fred and George, the comic relief twins. Fred (or was it George?) nudged George (or was it Fred?).
"Oh yeah. Hi! We're Fred and George, Hogwarts comic relief duo! We will provide good jokes and play hilarious pranks throughout the story!" George recited. Harry and Ron clapped their hands excitedly.
Finally the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station. Harry, Ron and Hermione heard the Hogwarts' gamekeeper, Hagsnot, bellowing "Firs' years this way!" and waved to him.
"All righ', Harry?" Hagsnot called to him. Harry didn't have time to answer; he was pushed by the flow of people entering the Great Hall. As they all sat down at their house tables, Albus Fumblesnore stood up.
"My name is Professor Fumblesnore, but what I teach is a bit uncertain. I am enigmatic, see my eyes twinkle mysteriously!" He told the students and they burst into applause. "Oh, and we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! His name is Professor Eevill." There was a weak smattering of applause at this; many people thought the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was jinxed.
The golden plates before them filled up and Harry and Ron stuffed their faces greedily while Hermione nibbled at a carrot stick.
"Have some shteak, Ermyknee!" Said Ron with his mouth full, spewing little bits of steak at a disgusted Hermione.
"No thank you," she said loftily. "I'm a vegetarian. Think of the poor pig that was slaughtered to make you happy!"
"Uh, Hermione, steak comes from cows," Harry said. Hermione blushed and buried her nose in another ridiculously thick book.
While Harry and Ron were happily stuffing themselves with various suspicious looking plates of food, Draco Malformed, sitting at the Slytherin table, was sick of it all. But who could blame him? In this drafty castle full of ludicrously happy people, all of who were wearing absurd pointed hats and robes that looked very feminine, I would be absolutely insane. Draco glared at the people around him; even the Slytherins were in high spirits, which disappointed him. He sighed. Maybe tomorrow would be better, although he was not much of an optimist, so it probably wouldn't. Draco sipped his (half empty) goblet of butterbeer broodingly. It was going to be a long school year.
Harry Snotter was quite content, sitting on the Hogwarts Express with his two best friends, Ron Whiney and Hermione Grungy. Harry and Ron were stuffing their faces on Pumpkin Pastries after offering some to Hermione who politely refused ("Think of all the calories!"), and promptly buried her face in a book roughly the same size as her. Ron was pestering Harry to buy more so he could satisfy his greedy needs when Draco Malformed, Harry's archenemy, swaggered into their compartment, accompanied by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle (whose first names we are informed of once, but we will just refer to them by their last names, ok?).
"I am Draco Malformed, resident Hogwarts badass, hear me roar!" said Malformed.
"What are you doing here, Malformed?" asked Ron spitefully.
"Oh I don't know, I just thought I'd randomly swagger into your compartment to piss you off. Haven't we already established that that is my aim in life?"
At that very moment, a tall and ridiculously thin man strode into the compartment.
"He must be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" whispered Hermione, always the one quickest to catch on, excluding the fact that the only adults on the Hogwarts Express were the conductor and the lady with the cart of sweets, and the occasional Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
The man had two slanted red slits for eyes and, for some odd reason, held a rat in his hand.
"Hey, that looks a bit like Scabbers!" exclaimed Ron.
"It can't be Scabbers, Ron, remember? Scabbers is really Peter Pettigrew, who escaped to the dark wizard Moldywart and is helping him return to power," explained Harry.
"Oh yeah. Could you please refrain from saying his name?"
"NO! MOLDYWART MOLDYWART MOLDYWART! Yelled Harry. Ron clamped his hands over his ears.
"LA LA LA! I'M NOT LISTENING!" he shouted. Hermione rolled her eyes and sniffed haughtily.
"Could you two please stop your useless bickering? I'm trying to read 5,000,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi!" Ron and Harry rolled their eyes and automatically forgot about their squabble, enjoying themselves by making faces at Hermione.
After a while, however, Harry and Ron got bored, having the short attention spans they did. They roamed around the train, bumping into (literally) many of their friends, including Neville Reallylongbottom, who had succeeded, yet again, in setting himself on fire. They also met with Fred and George, the comic relief twins. Fred (or was it George?) nudged George (or was it Fred?).
"Oh yeah. Hi! We're Fred and George, Hogwarts comic relief duo! We will provide good jokes and play hilarious pranks throughout the story!" George recited. Harry and Ron clapped their hands excitedly.
Finally the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station. Harry, Ron and Hermione heard the Hogwarts' gamekeeper, Hagsnot, bellowing "Firs' years this way!" and waved to him.
"All righ', Harry?" Hagsnot called to him. Harry didn't have time to answer; he was pushed by the flow of people entering the Great Hall. As they all sat down at their house tables, Albus Fumblesnore stood up.
"My name is Professor Fumblesnore, but what I teach is a bit uncertain. I am enigmatic, see my eyes twinkle mysteriously!" He told the students and they burst into applause. "Oh, and we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! His name is Professor Eevill." There was a weak smattering of applause at this; many people thought the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was jinxed.
The golden plates before them filled up and Harry and Ron stuffed their faces greedily while Hermione nibbled at a carrot stick.
"Have some shteak, Ermyknee!" Said Ron with his mouth full, spewing little bits of steak at a disgusted Hermione.
"No thank you," she said loftily. "I'm a vegetarian. Think of the poor pig that was slaughtered to make you happy!"
"Uh, Hermione, steak comes from cows," Harry said. Hermione blushed and buried her nose in another ridiculously thick book.
While Harry and Ron were happily stuffing themselves with various suspicious looking plates of food, Draco Malformed, sitting at the Slytherin table, was sick of it all. But who could blame him? In this drafty castle full of ludicrously happy people, all of who were wearing absurd pointed hats and robes that looked very feminine, I would be absolutely insane. Draco glared at the people around him; even the Slytherins were in high spirits, which disappointed him. He sighed. Maybe tomorrow would be better, although he was not much of an optimist, so it probably wouldn't. Draco sipped his (half empty) goblet of butterbeer broodingly. It was going to be a long school year.