"Don't Let Him Out: A Farce"
A rant by; Adelphia Savanya Moore`
~inspired by John Cleese in "Fawlty Towers" (episode 10: The Anniversary)~
Rating: PG-13 (reference to substance abuse, language)
Written: Aug 14th, 2003
Summary: Harry yells a lot in OOtP, and it gets on my nerves . a lot . a lot, a lot! So now, I'm getting back at him for yelling at a first year Huffelpuff. This is a farce-the intent of a farce is to start off normal and boring, and end up with some wild and crazy predicament for the main character to dig himself out of. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own them in a box, I do not own them with a fox, I do not own them while I'm bowling, they all belong to (that evil) J.K. Rowling. I also don't own Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover, or Harry's Closet, but I DO OWN the Convivial Hunting Horde AND Fred's strainer. (I promise, you'll understand all that by the time I'm done!)
So now, without further adu .
The Inciting incident
"Um . Harry Potter?" the first year Huffelpuff mumbled, pulling
tentatively on the back of Harry's robes. They were in the middle of the
entrance hall.
"What?" He snapped, turning abruptly and fixing the tiny boy with a venomous glare.
Hermione shook her head. Harry had been touchy like his all week. So what if three or four people were calling him a liar, giving him a hard time, he should simple act his age and deal with it! He had no right to take his anger out on everyone around him, least of all his friends, . and innocent Huffelpuff first years, by all means .
"What?" Harry nearly snarled, tapping his foot, crossing his arms, and raising a hawk-like eyebrow. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he peered down them menacingly.
"Well, I . uh, I was just wondering ...what exactly makes you think HE's back, . exactly?"
'Oh, he's gone an' done it, now,' thought Ron, the voice in his head even more agitated that the last time Harry blew a gasket and three-quarters at an innocent bystander (just after History Of Magic that morning). Ron steeled himself for the eminent explosion of sound, covering his somewhat protrubent ears and retreating with Hermione and several other seasoned Harry-veterans.
"What?" Harry said for a third time. He scanned the first year and noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in his little fist. Harry's gaze flicked upward to meet the boy's big blue eyes set in a chubby face. Harry sneered.
"Your parent's let you read that garbage?" Harry's voice was slowly rising in volume. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides. The boy stared defiantly back.
"Gimmie that," Harry blurted tightly, and snatched up the paper-he set fire to it with his wand. The tiny Huffelpuff moved as though to protest Harry's actions, but Harry had him by the wrist before he could take a step forward.
"DON'T YOU READ THIS!" Harry bellowed. "THIS IS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE! YOU GOT THAT-GARBAGE!" Harry shook the burning Prophet vigorously, inches from the little kid's nose, twisting his tiny wrist painfully. The boy whined and whimpered, big wet tears welling up in his eyes. "YOU GOT THAT, YOU STUPID LITTLE PRAT? GARBAGE!" The boy started bawling openly as he made louder, more pitiful noises. "ANSWER ME, YOU BLOODY GIT, YOU!"
Hermione sprang forward from the now assembling crowd, holding high her prefect's badge. Ron snatched her around the waist and pulled her back with a hand over her mouth. She fought him, but he was much taller and stronger that she.
"Herm," he said in a low whisper, tightening his grip as she struggled to stop Harry's tantrum. "If we lay low, maybe he won't notice us. It'll be the first time he's yelled at someone besides us! Think about it! He's always yell-yuck!" Ron dropped her like a viper. Hermione sped away from him to stop Harry, who was screaming something about Verrataserum while viciously beating the bloody hell out of a fairly large Slytherin sixth year. Teenaged boys were jeering and cheering while most of the girls had run off crying. Ron absentmindedly wiped his hand on the shoulder of a Ravenclaw fourth year boy, who was too engaged making bets on the ensuing punching match to notice Ron's defilement of his robes-Hermione, in her escape, had licked his hand. He grimaced.
"IMPEDIMENTA! STUPEFY! Assio glasses-" Hermione summoned Harry's glasses and hung them crookedly on his immobilized face. Hermione waved her wand once more and, with a loud bang, snake-like cords bound Harry's wrists and arms.
"Should I go and report this, Hermione?" asked Lavender Brown.
"No, no ." Hermione sighed heavily. "I think I'll have to take care of this one personally, thanks, Lavender." Hermione sighed again.
"Come back and fight me you pureblood bastards!!!"
Harry was screaming again. Hermione flicked her wand and gagged him. She flicked again, and the gag tightened. She nodded, satisfied. Harry mumbled through the thick fabric, eyes bulging at the chortling Slytherin backs.
Ron marched over to Harry, and put him directly into a half nelson.
"I'm pureblood, git," Ron hissed in Harry's ear and released him abruptly. Harry staggered backward, then flushed in embarrassment, suddenly finding the floor pattern positively diverting. Ron stormed up the marble staircase.
Hermione dragged Harry up the stairs with her, lecturing him all the way at the top of her lungs.
~ * ~ * ~
1B I Do Love a Good Closet
"I don't see why yeh have to yell all the time, mate," Ron told Harry in front of the common room fire after Hermione had agreed to "un-gag" him.
"DON'T YOU START WITH ME! YOU THINK YOU'RE ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY NOW, MR. PREFECT ! GAME'S UP, RON! YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND! IF YOU WERE A HALF- DECENT FRIEND, YOU'D STAND BEHIND ME INSTEAD OF PUNNISH ME, YOU STUPID, PHONY GIT! YOU'RE-"
Something yellow flew into Harry's mouth, and he immediately started puking all over the common room. Fred and George approached, bearing the blue antidote between them like the Ark of the Covenant parting a river of puke and crying first-through-third-year girls.
"No one calls our brother a phony git," George began.
"Except us," Fred interrupted. "Apologize."
Harry opened his mouth and yacked dangerously close to Fred's shoe.
"He's got the projectile of a pansy," George commented offhandedly, loud enough for the whole common room to eavesdrop on.
Harry narrowly missed George's pant leg.
"Apologize, slime," Fred ordered, waving the antidote.
Harry spewed a few feet away from several first and second year girls, who started crying a-fresh.
"Now, or we won't give it to you," Fred warned.
Harry yacked on his own shoes as he hung his head in defeat. This seemed enough for Fred, who threw the blue chunk at Harry and shouted "SCOURGIFY!"
Harry straightened up and stared, unseeingly, around the common room. Many of the younger girls turned away from him and continued sniffing, while being comforted by the second and third year boys.
"FINE! SCOFF AT ME-SEE IF I CARE!" Harry's eyes bulged insanely as he screamed. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! YOU STUPID, FAT, PIMPLY-FACED LITTLE- " Harry swore so badly that there was a collective gasp from the room; many girls burst into tears, and many boys jumped up with raised fists.
Hermione grabbed harry swiftly by the arm and steered him across the common room . and into a broom closet. She produced a glass of water, poured it over his head, and slammed the door in his face, locking it with a foreign and no doubt advanced charm.
"Now," she told the common room in a huff, "don't let him out-he'll only upset you."
A/N: I've written up to chapter 4 on paper, and this is by far the longest. I'll have the next chapters up ASAP! Please review, even if you just want to yell at me and say I'm not funny, I really don't care . =) ASM`
A rant by; Adelphia Savanya Moore`
~inspired by John Cleese in "Fawlty Towers" (episode 10: The Anniversary)~
Rating: PG-13 (reference to substance abuse, language)
Written: Aug 14th, 2003
Summary: Harry yells a lot in OOtP, and it gets on my nerves . a lot . a lot, a lot! So now, I'm getting back at him for yelling at a first year Huffelpuff. This is a farce-the intent of a farce is to start off normal and boring, and end up with some wild and crazy predicament for the main character to dig himself out of. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own them in a box, I do not own them with a fox, I do not own them while I'm bowling, they all belong to (that evil) J.K. Rowling. I also don't own Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover, or Harry's Closet, but I DO OWN the Convivial Hunting Horde AND Fred's strainer. (I promise, you'll understand all that by the time I'm done!)
So now, without further adu .
The Inciting incident
"Um . Harry Potter?" the first year Huffelpuff mumbled, pulling
tentatively on the back of Harry's robes. They were in the middle of the
entrance hall.
"What?" He snapped, turning abruptly and fixing the tiny boy with a venomous glare.
Hermione shook her head. Harry had been touchy like his all week. So what if three or four people were calling him a liar, giving him a hard time, he should simple act his age and deal with it! He had no right to take his anger out on everyone around him, least of all his friends, . and innocent Huffelpuff first years, by all means .
"What?" Harry nearly snarled, tapping his foot, crossing his arms, and raising a hawk-like eyebrow. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he peered down them menacingly.
"Well, I . uh, I was just wondering ...what exactly makes you think HE's back, . exactly?"
'Oh, he's gone an' done it, now,' thought Ron, the voice in his head even more agitated that the last time Harry blew a gasket and three-quarters at an innocent bystander (just after History Of Magic that morning). Ron steeled himself for the eminent explosion of sound, covering his somewhat protrubent ears and retreating with Hermione and several other seasoned Harry-veterans.
"What?" Harry said for a third time. He scanned the first year and noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in his little fist. Harry's gaze flicked upward to meet the boy's big blue eyes set in a chubby face. Harry sneered.
"Your parent's let you read that garbage?" Harry's voice was slowly rising in volume. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides. The boy stared defiantly back.
"Gimmie that," Harry blurted tightly, and snatched up the paper-he set fire to it with his wand. The tiny Huffelpuff moved as though to protest Harry's actions, but Harry had him by the wrist before he could take a step forward.
"DON'T YOU READ THIS!" Harry bellowed. "THIS IS ABSOLUTE GARBAGE! YOU GOT THAT-GARBAGE!" Harry shook the burning Prophet vigorously, inches from the little kid's nose, twisting his tiny wrist painfully. The boy whined and whimpered, big wet tears welling up in his eyes. "YOU GOT THAT, YOU STUPID LITTLE PRAT? GARBAGE!" The boy started bawling openly as he made louder, more pitiful noises. "ANSWER ME, YOU BLOODY GIT, YOU!"
Hermione sprang forward from the now assembling crowd, holding high her prefect's badge. Ron snatched her around the waist and pulled her back with a hand over her mouth. She fought him, but he was much taller and stronger that she.
"Herm," he said in a low whisper, tightening his grip as she struggled to stop Harry's tantrum. "If we lay low, maybe he won't notice us. It'll be the first time he's yelled at someone besides us! Think about it! He's always yell-yuck!" Ron dropped her like a viper. Hermione sped away from him to stop Harry, who was screaming something about Verrataserum while viciously beating the bloody hell out of a fairly large Slytherin sixth year. Teenaged boys were jeering and cheering while most of the girls had run off crying. Ron absentmindedly wiped his hand on the shoulder of a Ravenclaw fourth year boy, who was too engaged making bets on the ensuing punching match to notice Ron's defilement of his robes-Hermione, in her escape, had licked his hand. He grimaced.
"IMPEDIMENTA! STUPEFY! Assio glasses-" Hermione summoned Harry's glasses and hung them crookedly on his immobilized face. Hermione waved her wand once more and, with a loud bang, snake-like cords bound Harry's wrists and arms.
"Should I go and report this, Hermione?" asked Lavender Brown.
"No, no ." Hermione sighed heavily. "I think I'll have to take care of this one personally, thanks, Lavender." Hermione sighed again.
"Come back and fight me you pureblood bastards!!!"
Harry was screaming again. Hermione flicked her wand and gagged him. She flicked again, and the gag tightened. She nodded, satisfied. Harry mumbled through the thick fabric, eyes bulging at the chortling Slytherin backs.
Ron marched over to Harry, and put him directly into a half nelson.
"I'm pureblood, git," Ron hissed in Harry's ear and released him abruptly. Harry staggered backward, then flushed in embarrassment, suddenly finding the floor pattern positively diverting. Ron stormed up the marble staircase.
Hermione dragged Harry up the stairs with her, lecturing him all the way at the top of her lungs.
~ * ~ * ~
1B I Do Love a Good Closet
"I don't see why yeh have to yell all the time, mate," Ron told Harry in front of the common room fire after Hermione had agreed to "un-gag" him.
"DON'T YOU START WITH ME! YOU THINK YOU'RE ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY NOW, MR. PREFECT ! GAME'S UP, RON! YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND! IF YOU WERE A HALF- DECENT FRIEND, YOU'D STAND BEHIND ME INSTEAD OF PUNNISH ME, YOU STUPID, PHONY GIT! YOU'RE-"
Something yellow flew into Harry's mouth, and he immediately started puking all over the common room. Fred and George approached, bearing the blue antidote between them like the Ark of the Covenant parting a river of puke and crying first-through-third-year girls.
"No one calls our brother a phony git," George began.
"Except us," Fred interrupted. "Apologize."
Harry opened his mouth and yacked dangerously close to Fred's shoe.
"He's got the projectile of a pansy," George commented offhandedly, loud enough for the whole common room to eavesdrop on.
Harry narrowly missed George's pant leg.
"Apologize, slime," Fred ordered, waving the antidote.
Harry spewed a few feet away from several first and second year girls, who started crying a-fresh.
"Now, or we won't give it to you," Fred warned.
Harry yacked on his own shoes as he hung his head in defeat. This seemed enough for Fred, who threw the blue chunk at Harry and shouted "SCOURGIFY!"
Harry straightened up and stared, unseeingly, around the common room. Many of the younger girls turned away from him and continued sniffing, while being comforted by the second and third year boys.
"FINE! SCOFF AT ME-SEE IF I CARE!" Harry's eyes bulged insanely as he screamed. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! YOU STUPID, FAT, PIMPLY-FACED LITTLE- " Harry swore so badly that there was a collective gasp from the room; many girls burst into tears, and many boys jumped up with raised fists.
Hermione grabbed harry swiftly by the arm and steered him across the common room . and into a broom closet. She produced a glass of water, poured it over his head, and slammed the door in his face, locking it with a foreign and no doubt advanced charm.
"Now," she told the common room in a huff, "don't let him out-he'll only upset you."
A/N: I've written up to chapter 4 on paper, and this is by far the longest. I'll have the next chapters up ASAP! Please review, even if you just want to yell at me and say I'm not funny, I really don't care . =) ASM`