*stares* Has this been done...? ^_^;; Too bad if it has...took me too long to just quit on it.

It'd be nice if you've seen the movie "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" before you read this, but you don't really need to. It's virtually the same, anyway. x_X;; Anyway, I spent a good few weeks on this chapter...errrgh, and I'm finally done. I need some sleep.

No fangirls were harmed in the making of this fanfic. Oh, and ignore all the fangirl bashing, by the way, I'm kind of one myself. ^^

DISCLAIMER: I own no rights to either "Monty Python" or Harry Potter. Which is kind of bad. But then again, this parody is copyright me. I also don't own any companies or anything mentioned inside the fic...which includes Pierce Brosnan. I unfortunately do not own him. XP


Harry Potter and the Holy Grail
Part One

By Platinum Bunny

[We open on a nice little countryside-type place, with a large castle on a nice little hill. Yup, it's all good. Anyway, soon there are sounds of horses coming up the hill, their hooves clopping against the ground. Cut to shot of the Fat Lady and Nearly Headless Nick, who are the guards of the palace. Nick is carrying the portrait around, actually. And who would be coming up the hill - none other than the wonderful Harry Potter and his sidekick Ron Weasley, along with their faithful owls - Hedwig the Noble and Pigwidgeon the Crack-Induced. In case you're curious, Hedwig and Pig are carrying a pair of coconuts each.]

Fat Lady: Password?

Harry: Er - I don't know.

Fat Lady: [sighs] Well, then, who are you? If you're someone worthy, perhaps I'll permit you to continue.

Harry: My name is Harry Potter. I'm a kid. Can I come in now?

Fat Lady: You'll have to do better than that.

Harry: [grits teeth and sighs] Fine. It is I, the amazing and talented Harold James Potter! Son of James Potter and Lily Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Only Survivor of the Dreaded Killing Curse, and King of Children's Literature! I need to see your Lord, as I am recruiting people to come and help me fight against the Death Eaters of Lord Voldemort, if I even make it as far as my fifth year at school!

Fat Lady: Good. Who's this guy, then?

[She points to Ron.]

Harry: Oh - er, that's Ron, my sidekick. You should ignore him.

[Suddenly, the Fat Lady notices that the two of them aren't using horses - Ron and Harry both have Pig and Hedwig behind them respectively, clopping coconuts together. Yes, it's illogical, but shut up.]

Fat Lady: Um...what's with the fruit-type-thing-that-I'm-not-even-sure-is-a-fruit?

Harry: Beg your pardon?

Fat Lady: [pointing as best a portrait can] The coconuts. Those owls have two coconut halves and are banging them together.

Harry: Why does it matter? Just let me past!

Fat Lady: Where did the coconuts come from?

Harry: Found 'em on the road.

Fat Lady: Excuse me? You found them, here in England? The coconut is a tropical fruit.

Harry: Meaning...?

Fat Lady: We're in a temperate zone!

[Harry clearly doesn't understand what the Fat Lady is talking about. Neither does Ron, but he just kinda sits around and looks interested.]

Harry: Uhhh... The Golden Snidget may fly south - er, yeah, I think it's south - and the plumber wants to get a better occupation, but...okay, what am I doing? I don't understand a word of what I'm saying.

Fat Lady: Neither, apparently, does anyone else...hey, are you suggesting coconuts migrate?

Harry: W-well of course they don't! They get carried!

Fat Lady: ...A Snidget couldn't carry a coconut.

Harry: Er - it could carry the coconut by the husk.

Fat Lady: Look, kid! That's not the point! We're talking about weight ratios here. A small little bird couldn't carry a coconut that weighs one pound, you know!

Harry: All right, quite frankly - I don't care. Can you just go tell your lord that Harry Potter is here?

[The Fat Lady completely ignores him.]

Fat Lady: In order to maintain air-speed velocity, the Snidget needs to flap its wings a lot. I think it's forty-three times a second or something, right?

Harry: I don't care!

Fay Lady: Well? Am I correct?

Harry: [now extremely angry] Does it look like I give a bloody fu -

Nick: Well, what if an African Snidget carried the coconut over? That might work, you know...

[The Fat Lady blinks up in surprise at Nick.]

Fat Lady: Well, yeah, maybe. But most certainly not a European one, that's what I'm saying.

Nick: I concur.

Harry: WILL YOU PLEASE ASK YOUR LORD IF HE'D LIKE TO JOIN ME ON MY QUEST?!

[The Fat Lady and Nick are still ignoring him, making Harry upset. Hedwig halfheartedly bangs the coconuts.]

Fat Lady: Oh! But Sir Nicholas...I don't think that Snidgets are migrating birds, you see, and there aren't many left, what with that Snidget-hunting fetish going around so many years ago.

Nick: That's right, right...

Fat Lady: Which means they couldn't bring back a coconut.

[Harry and Ron, finally disgusted and impatient, go back down the hill, clopping all the way.]

Nick: But if two of the migrating and still-living Snidgets got together, do you suppose they could carry the coconut?

Fat Lady: Hm - I don't know, they aren't all that small...ah! They could use owl post, that would be quite easy and it's possible!

Nick: What kind of owls, though? I mean, there are so many types.

Fat Lady: Certainly...

[As Harry and Ron walk on, we cut to a shot of a little shop. Lavender is standing outside her Nice Little Shop of Dead People, walking around and trying to get people to bring on their dead bodies to her. It's not working too well, actually.]

Lavender: Okay, um, bring on your dead. Bring 'em all over here. [pauses, then sighs deeply] Man, this job totally sucks! I hate dead people, they all smell bad and they can't compliment you on your hair! I mean, why in the world did I get stuck with a cra - oooh, hiya Parvati!

[Parvati comes up, and with her comes a large cart with the body of Voldemort in it. Her twin sister Padma is pulling the cart.]

Padma: [under her breath] Slave-driver...

Parvati: Hi, Lavender! I have a dead body for you - here's nine Galleons!

Lavender: Cool, I'm finally making money.

[Without any warning, Voldemort pops up from the cart. Lavender shrieks and grabs onto Parvati's arm in fight.]

Voldemort: I'm not dead!

Lavender: H-huh!?

Parvati: Nothing, nothing! Just take the nine Galleons and the body, okay?

Voldemort: Come on, I'm not dead! Look at me!

Lavender: Um, Parvati? He, like, says he's not dead.

Parvati: Sure he is! He's ugly enough to be dead, right? And all dead people are ugly, everybody knows that.

Voldemort: But I'm not dead! Maybe I was once...or something...but not anymore!

Padma: He's right!

[Parvati smacks Padma over the head.]

Parvati: Silence, evil clone!

Padma: Humph. I am the older twin, you know...

Parvati: [ignoring Padma] Er - anyway, he'll most certainly be dead in a few minutes. Deathly sick, y'know. With, um...spinal infestation. In fact, I saw it when I was crystal-gazing, and you never argue with the orb!

Padma: That's not even a di -

[Parvati smacks Padma again.]

Padma: [under her breath] Fine. I won't talk. Just wait 'till we get home...

Voldemort: Spinal infestation?! [pauses] Well, even if I did happen to have such a disease, I'm getting better!

Parvati: [laughs] Yeah, right! You'll be stiff as a board in a moment!

Lavender: Well, you kinda haveta wait 'till he's dead - it's against regulations.

Voldemort: B-but I don't want to go into that - that cart thing!

[He points to the dead body cart, where lots of dead bodies are piled. Well, that's rather obvious, isn't it?]

Parvati: Aren't you supposed to be the all-feared Dark Lord?

Voldemort: [blinks] Well, yeah.

Parvati: Then stop being a baby!

[Voldemort takes out his "People I Hate Most" notepad and scribbles Parvati's name right underneath "That Evil Pimply Kid at the Arcade."]

Lavender: No, seriously, Parvati...I can't take him. He's not dead yet!

Voldemort: I feel fine! See?

[Voldemort starts doing the tango inside the cart. No one seems to notice this, 'cept for Padma, who's just sitting around again. Meanwhile, Parvati starts pouting and putting on puppy-eyes.]

Parvati: C'moooon, Lavender! You're supposed to be my best friend and stuff, it would be a huge favor! Besides, I let you borrow my copy of Teenage Witch Weekly the other day, so this would be returning the favor, y'know?

Lavender: You only borrowed it because you needed the order that stupid hair butterfly since McGonagall confiscated it from you!

[Parvati is getting very annoyed by this point.]

Parvati: Well, can't you kill him yourself, then?

Lavender: [shakes head] Nope.

[Parvati seems deep in thought for a few moments. After clutching her head from the pain that thinking brought, she straightens up again.]

Parvati: Well, at least hang around for a few minutes. He'll be dead soon enough.

Lavender: I would, but I haveta head over to the Weasley's...they've got a lot of dead people lying around their land. Large family and all.

Padma: Why don't we come back another day?

[Parvati slams Padma's head into the cart. Padma gets a nosebleed.]

Padma: OW! You rotten little...

[She turns away to tend to her broken nose.]

Parvati: Humph! Anyway, Lavender...when's your next round?

Lavender: Thursday.

[Voldemort, who has been silent for a while, stands up and starts to sneak off.]

Voldemort: Hey, I think I'm going to murder the Potter boy now, if that's all right by you guys.

[Before Voldemort can walk away, Parvati whirls around and slams his head into the cart, as she previously did with Padma.]

Voldemort: Damn! Ow ow ow! Stupid little prima donna...

Parvati: So, is there anything you can do until Thursday?

Lavender: No.

Parvati: [sighs] Well, thanks anyway! I guess I'll be seeing you on Thursday.

Lavender: Definitely!

[Suddenly, Harry and Ron come clopping by. Hedwig and Pig are still clopping the coconuts together.]

Lavender: Oooh, who're they?

Parvati: I'unno.

Voldemort: [with blood gushing from his nose] Pooootter...I'm coming for yoooou in your sleeeeeep...I will kill you and your friiiiends...like I did your paaaarents...

[Harry walks past without even noticing him.]

Voldemort: Damn.

Lavender: [staring after Harry and Ron] I think the cute one's someone important!

Parvati: Why?

Lavender: [matter-of-factly] He's got coconuts.

[Yay, we're back to Harry and Ron. *crowd wakes up from their drunken states and pays attention* Okay, so anyway, continuing on, they walk into a cute little village-type thing with lots of peasants around. The two of them approach one of the peasants from behind.]

Harry: Excuse me, old woman?

[Percy turns around, and looks extremely affronted.]

Percy: Man!

Harry: Whatever, sorry. Does a knight live in that castle over there? [points to a castle off in the distance]

Percy: Nineteen.

Harry: Pardon?

Percy: I'm nineteen years old, I'm not old!

Harry: It wouldn't be polite to just call you 'man,' though.

Percy: [frowns] Well, call me by my name, then.

[Harry stares at him. Percy stares back. This goes on for a few very long minutes, until Pig claps his coconuts together.]

Percy: Right - my name is Percy.

Harry: You should've told me beforehand. We would have never had this little disagreement.

Percy: [irritably] You never bothered to find out my name, did you?

Harry: Okay, Percy, I apologized about the "old woman" thing! From behind, you kind of looked like a girl!

Percy: I object that you automatically treat me like an inferior, just because you have more money and fangirls than me!

Harry: [grins slightly] I am the Boy-Who-Lived.

Percy: Oh, really, the Boy-Who-Lived, that's pretty damn nice. How did that come round, exactly? By poisoning and corrupting the community, making them pity you because your parents are dead, and being this whole stupid "underdog hero" thing. If we're ever going to make any progress in society -

[All of a sudden, Penelope Clearwater walks up and smashes Percy over the head with her broomstick, instantly shutting him up as he falls to the ground with a concussion. Then she turns to Harry and smiles pleasantly, as if nothing had happened.]

Penelope: How do you do, sir?

Harry: Er...[looks at the unconscious Percy] I'm fine. Anyway, I'm Harry Potter, the King of...er - Hogwarts Students. Yeah, that's right.

Penelope: Who?

Harry: Hogwarts Students.

Penelope: Oh - I wasn't under the impression we had a king. I thought we were one of those happy joyful white communities with no worries or problems in life...kind of like the Brady Bunch.

[Percy recovers from his concussion and jumps up from the ground.]

Percy: Penny, pay no mind to that bunch of Bradys. As I was saying, these are times of dictatorship! We live in a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the poor and working classes -

Penelope: [sighs] Must you bring class into it?

Percy: That's what it's about!

[Pig claps the coconuts together very urgently.]

Harry: Okay, as much as I'd enjoy seeing a nice little lover's quarrel, I really need to get going, and I think Ron's going to soil himself soon. Who exactly lives in that castle?

[Penelope turns away from her little mini-arguement.]

Penelope: No one.

Harry: 'Kay...then, um, who's your lord?

Penelope: We don't have one.

Harry: Er - excuse me?

Percy: [sighs] Like I said, we're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take turns acting as a kind of executive officer, one per week.

Harry: Yeah, that's pretty damn great.

Percy: But, that officer's decisions have to be ratified at an extremely special and selective biweekly meeting between members of the community.

Harry: [impatiently] Glorious.

Percy: You see, we do it by a simple majority vote in the case of internal affairs, but for other things -

[Harry is growing very angry by this point, mainly because Percy won't shut his mouth for even two seconds.]

Harry: Shut up.

Percy: [who has still been talking all this time] - it needs to be at least two-third's majority, or else we have to -

[Harry is Very Very Mad. Note the use of capitals.]

Harry: Shut up! I hereby order you to shut up!

Penelope: [frowns] Don't order Percy around! Really, where do you come off saying something like that to him?

Harry: I'm the Boy-Who-Lived!

Penelope: That's nice. I didn't vote for you, though.

[Harry bangs his head against his hand a few times. The attemped-concussion fails, however, so he's forced to keep on living.]

Harry: You never got to vote.

Penelope: Is that so? How did you become the Boy-Who-Lived, then?

Harry: Okay...well, one Halloween in 1981, this stupid rat bastard decided to tell Voldemort that my parents were hiding out in Godric's Hollow. Voldemort came round and killed off my parents, but he tried to kill me and I lived and got this nifty scar here.

Percy: Okay, buddy, look here - just because you survived Avada Kedavra doesn't give you the right to make yourself some kind of monarch! True and supreme executive power derives from a vote of the people, not some stupid scar.

[Harry is mad again.]

Harry: Shut up, Percy!

Percy: Honestly, who the hell do you think you are? Think you've got supreme power because the Dark Lord couldn't murder you! He probably tripped over a rock or something!

Harry: Percy - do me a favor and SHUT UP!

Percy: I mean, I could go around saying I'm emperor because I have red hair, but then they'd call me mad!

[Harry is Very Very Mad once again.]

Harry: JESUS CHRIST, DON'T YOU EVER SHUT YOUR BLOODY MOUTH?!

Percy: We're getting violent now, aren't we?

[Harry, whose breaking point exploded a few lines back, grabs Percy in a headlock and punches him in the jaw.]

Percy: Ow! Ow! SHIT! OWWW! Penny, get him off of me...I'm being repressed! OW! Look at this, the Boy-Who-OW-Lived is repressing me!

[Harry throws Percy into the dirt at Penelope's feet. They both stare at him.]

Harry: Bugger off, peasant!

[He grabs Ron by the ear and they both stomp away. Percy and Penelope look at each other.]

Percy: That's what I'm on about, you saw him repressing me, didn't you? I mean, honestly, and you criticize me for yelling about that -

Penelope Wanna snog?

Percy: [shrugs] I'm game.

[We cut to a shot of a forest. Harry, Ron, and the coconut-clopping owls are sitting on the ground, watching Draco and Pansy Parkinson duel with their wands. Draco yells out a spell and blasts Pansy, who promptly dies. As fangirls all over the world celebrate the her death, Harry approaches Draco.]

Harry: You fight with the strength of many men, Sir Malfoy.

[Draco is silent.]

Harry: My name is Harry Potter, and I am the Boy-Who-Lived.

[Silence.]

Harry: I am looking for people to help me defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort.

[Still, Draco is silent.]

Harry: You make me sad, Sir Malfoy.

[Harry starts to leave, his three followers following (which is what they do best, right?) when suddenly Draco decides to speak.]

Draco: None shall pass.

Harry: Excuse me?

Draco: None shall pass.

Harry: Look, I don't hate you or anything, we have no quarrels. Let me cross the bridge, because I really need to gather some good wizards.

Draco: But first...!

[He pauses very dramatically. Trumpets blare from nowhere, and wind sweeps up his gorgeous silverish locks of hair. Fangirls start screaming wildly and then prance off to pair him up with Harry in a slash fanfic filled with meaningless sexual activity. (Ha, I am so evil...*smirk*)]

Draco: We duel.

Harry: I don't feel like it - get out of the way!

Draco: I move for no person. Especially you, Potter.

[The fangirls are getting restless, so they decide come up with a tragic reason for why Draco is such a little bastard. Finally, they're all shot in the necks with tranquilizers and dragged off the set, much to the delight of non-fangirls.]

Harry: Fine, then I'll have to move you myself!

[Harry flings out his wand. The two of them begin a very feisty (down, girls) duel, yelling out every spell and hex they know. Finally, Harry yells out some weird spell that he made up off the top of his head, and Draco's arm promptly falls off.]

Harry: Then I am the victor. You were a worthy advisory, Sir Malfoy, but stand aside.

Draco: Ha! A hippogriff could've done worse, and it has!

Harry: B-but hold on a second! I just sliced your arm off!

Draco: What are you on about? My arms are perfectly fine.

[Harry groans and then gestures to Draco's arm, which is lying on the ground and wriggling. Eeew...]

Draco: Oh, please. I've had so much worse. Bring it on, you stupid Mudblood-lover!

[Draco runs at Harry with all of his strength, but before he can do anything, Harry uses the made-up spell and slices Draco's other arm off.]

Harry: Now I have most certainly won!

Draco: Come on, now! Stop avoiding me - are you scared, you little wuss? I said to bring it on, and you didn't even touch me!

Harry: Honestly! I've already beaten you, I am victorious! Please go away and get to a doctor before you bleed to death or something!

Draco: [laughing] I get it now! You can't take anymore, can you?

[Draco runs over to Harry and kicks him in the leg. Harry gives him one of those Looks, and so Draco retaliates by kicking Harry in the kneecap. Harry whips out his wand out of anger and amputates Draco's left leg. Draco starts hopping around on his single surviving limb.]

Draco: Oh, you! I'll get you now!

Harry: Are you drunk, or just stupid? You have one leg left. You can't do anything except bleed on me, and then I'll probably get AIDs or something...knowing where you've been, anyway.

[Draco rushes at him again. Okay, more like hops.]

Draco: I AM INVINCIBLE!

Harry: ...You're a git.

Draco: INVINCIBLE!

[Harry slices Draco's last remaining leg off. Draco falls to the ground, balancing only on little bleeding stumps that used to be his legs.]

Draco: Well then, I guess it's a draw.

Harry: Finally. Jeez, you better see a doctor about your - er - condition, okay? Come along, Ron, Pig, and Hedwig! We ride!

[Ron, Pig, and Hedwig (yeah, they're still there!) get up off the ground. Pig and Hedwig grab their coconuts and start clopping as the four of them cross the bridge into town.]

Draco: [calling after Harry] I see, you're giving up! Come back, you yellow-bellied bastard, and fight me like a man!

[Time passes, and our four "heroes" have reached town. A large crowd is standing in the town square, chanting and having fun and all that good stuff. A huge stake stands in the middle of the square and crowd, where someone is about to be burned. Included in the crowd is Marcus Flint, Crabbe, Goyle, and Hermione.]

Crowd: Muggle! Muggle! We've got ourselves a Muggle!

Marcus: Let's burn 'er!

Crowd: Yeah! Fire is cool, man!

[Hermione steps up next to the stake and starts yelling at the crowd.]

Hermione: Why are you going to burn her? You can't be positive this woman's a Muggle.

Crabbe: [indignantly] Well, she looks like one.

Hermione: Well...can I see her?

[The Muggle appears, who just happens to be Sibyll Trelawney. She's not dressed in her regular robes and all that - instead, she's wearing stuff that Muggles wear, to the ninth power. We're talking geeky suspenders, bandanas, sunglasses, a dress with pants underneath, and to top it off, a shirt that says in very messy scrawl "I AM A MUGGLE." She's also wearing a flowered nightgown underneath it all.]

Trelawney: I'm not a Muggle. [twitches]

Hermione: Well, you are dressed like a Muggle...and I certainly wouldn't mind you being burned...

[Trelawney comes out of her oblivious state and starts going mad.]

Trelawney: They dressed me up like this! They did, I swear to God, I swear they did it! Do I really dress like this, do I?! THEY DID IT, THEY DID EVERYTHING! THEY KNOCKED ME OUT WITH A BROOM AND THEN DRESSED ME UP LIKE THIS!

Crowd: Uh...no we didn't.

[Hermione looks at Trelawney's odd shirt, then turns to the crowd.]

Hermione: Explain.

Marcus: Okay, so we did the shirt.

[Hermione stares at him.]

Marcus: [pauses] And the bandana...but she's still a Muggle!

Hermione: Well, we're all witches and wizards here, right? So why in the world are you burning her if she's a Muggle? Shouldn't she be the one burning us?

[Silence reigns throughout the crowd. They obviously hadn't considered that, yes, they're all magic folk that are burning a Muggle.]

Marcus: Er - it's opposite day.

[Hermione shrugs, not knowing what to say.]

Crowd: Burn, baby, burn!

Hermione: Did you dress this woman up?!

Crowd: Um...yeah, a bit.

Crabbe: It was Archie's idea to use the nightgown, Miss Granger sir!

[Hermione stares as old Archie comes running past, completely naked. He dashes up to Trelawney and yanks the nightgown from over her head (I know it's not exactly the epitome of logic since the nightgown's under the rest of her clothes, but then again, does anyone care?), puts it on his own body, and runs away happily.]

Hermione: Okay...that was nice...let's all ignore that, shall we?

Marcus: [points to Trelawney] She's wearing braces!

Hermione: Honestly! [sighs] Even if she is Muggle, you're still not supposed to burn them! It's all written in Why You Shouldn't Burn Muggles at the Stake!

Goyle: Well, um, she offered me a pen.

[Hermione does a double-take.]

Hermione: Excuse me?! What does that matter?!

Goyle: Er - 'cos witches and stuff use quills.

Crabbe: I want to see someone die! Just burn her!

Crowd: Yeah! Burn 'er!

[By this point, Hermione is more than angry. If anger was to be compared to jumping off a cliff, she'd be digging a tunnel at the bottom.]

Hermione: SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!

[Everyone does so.]

Hermione: [calms down] Okay, look. We can figure out if she's a Muggle very easily! There's a simple test!

Crowd: How?

Crabbe: Will the test put her through excruciating pain and suffering until one of her limbs freezes over and falls off?

[Hermione groans and signals for the crowd to be quiet again.]

Hermione: Now, what do Muggles do when they find a witch?

Crabbe: They burn 'em!

Crowd: [sounding just like Beavis and Butthead] Fire, fire!

Hermione: Correct. And, apart from witches, what else can you burn?

Marcus: Plastics!

Goyle: Marshmallows!

[Oliver Wood walks past.]

Crabbe: Er - wood?

Hermione: Exactly! So, by the powers of logic, why do witches burn and Muggles don't?

[Everyone is silent for ten minutes. Hermione starts smacking her forehead repeatedly. Finally, Goyle speaks up.]

Goyle: 'Cause witches and wizards are made of wood?

Hermione: Bravo, Goyle!

[The crowd, being as stupid as they are, begin banging their heads and other various body parts against buildings and such, just to see if they really are made of wood.]

Hermione: [frantically] Stop, stop! Please, just stop!

[Eventually, half the crowd passes out from blood loss and concussions, so everyone else has enough common sense and logic to stop. Hermione sighs and continues on with her earlier explanation.]

Hermione: All right. Since all witches and wizards are made from wood, can you tell me what wood does?

[Pause.]

Goyle: He plays Quidditch.

Hermione: Not that wood. I meant the thing that parchment's made from.

Marcus: It burns Muggles!

Remainder of Crowd: Yeaaaaah! Burn burn burn!

Hermione: You people are a bunch of pyromaniacs, aren't you?

Crowd: Certainly!

[Hermione groans and slaps her forehead.]

Hermione: Anyway...yes, wood does burn Muggles, but it also does something else! It isn't that hard, even for a bunch of idiots like yourselves...

Crabbe: It floats?

Hermione: Exactly! My, Crabbe, you're smarter than I thought.

[Crabbe nods, and then tucks his copy of the script behind his back, smirking innocently.]

Hermione: So, wood floats, correct? Can someone tell me something else that floats?

Goyle: Muggles! BURN HER!

Hermione: [impatiently] For the love of God, can you stop thinking about burning things for one minute?! Let me finish my explanation!

Goyle: [under his breath] Humph...wrong time of the month, I reckon...

[Hermione, fortunately for humanity, doesn't hear this comment.]

Hermione: Well? What floats?

Marcus: Clouds!

Crabbe: Broomsticks!

Goyle: Um, Wingardium Leviosa?

[Out of nowhere, Harry, Ron, and the owls come clopping up with their coconuts. Hermione doesn't seem to notice them at the moment, as she's too busy hitting herself over the idiocy of the crowd.]

Harry: Ducks.

Hermione: [noticing Harry and Ron] Huh? ...Yeah, that's absolutely correct! Ducks! So, by the powers of logic once again -

Marcus: [hesitantly, stumbling over his words] If this woman is really a witch...um, she'll weigh as much as a duck, because...then she'll be able to float on water! If she doesn't, she's a Muggle.

Goyle: H-hey, I don't look like I weight as much as a duck...

[He gestures to his nonexistent neck and large beer belly. Yeah, he has a beer belly at age fifteen, so shut up. Hermione and Harry both shrug and choose to ignore him.]

Ron: [to Goyle] I'm sure it's...um...just a thing.

[Harry smacks Ron upside the chin.]

Harry: Shut up, you git! You're not supposed to talk until the next scene, and that's still only one sentence!

Ron: [bitterly; under his breath] Oh, easy for you to say, Mr. I'm-the-star-of-the-books-and-the-Boy-Who-Lived-just-because-my-parents-were-killed.

Hermione: Okay, okay, let's get back to weighing this old frau - err, I mean, this woman. We'll use a scale to do it, like any normal people should. Someone please get me a very large scale and a duck!

[The crowd begins wandering around for a few minutes. Finally, a bunch of people bring up a very large scale, which on one side they put Trelawney in. On the other side, someone brings in a duck. Hermione looks at the scale, and sure enough, Trelawney is much heavier than the duck. The crowd cheers in triumph and moves off to begin the burning process. (Rejoice!) Harry, however, approaches Hermione.]

Hermione: Hullo. You're quite wise in the way of science...I've not seen you around these parts. Who are you?

Harry: I am Harry Potter.

[Hermione gasps in surprise and looks at his scar, then curtsies.]

Hermione: M-my liege!

Harry: Okay...y'know, I'd love for you to join me on my quest to help rule the magical community, but you're a girl, and girl's aren't normally knights...oh, to hell with it! How would you like to gain supreme power and get to ride a horse?

Hermione: I would be honored, sir!

Harry: What's your name, then?

Hermione: Granger. Hermione Granger.

[Pierce Brosnan runs past, smacking Hermione upside the head. He then screams and jetpacks away as Voldemort Apparates in, looks around, and then Disapparates away to find him. Everyone decides to ignore this.]

Harry: Then I dub thee SIR GRANGER!

[Triumphant music plays in the background, but it's cut very short when Hermione frowns at him in displeasure.]

Hermione: Sir Granger?

Harry: Use it or lose it, sister.

Hermione: I'll use it.

[Now we cut to a shot of Harry, Ron, Hedwig, and Pig walking through the forest, now accompanied by a bunch of people. The narrator, who just happens to be Lee Jordan, comes in overhead.]

Lee: Hi, people! Professor McGonagall banned me from commentating the next Quidditch match. She seems to think that it's a crime that I told Marcus Flint he's got a small di - oooh, sorry, I better get on with this narration! The first person to join up with Harry and Ron was Sir Granger the Wise.

[Shot of Hermione. Crookshanks walks behind her, clopping coconuts.]

Lee: More were to follow, though, just so the story doesn't get boring! Next, the group found Sir Finnigan the Brave!

[Shot of Seamus Finnigan, with a blast-ended skrewt doing his clopping for him. Seamus doesn't look too pleased with this, as the skrewt keeps exploding all over his robes and such.]

Lee: Next up was Sir Thomas the Pure.

[Shot of Dean Thomas, followed closely by his clopper, Buckbeak.]

Lee: The group then found Sir Longbottom the Not-As-Brave-or-Wise-or-Pure-As-the-Other-Three-Knights who nearly failed Charms, and who nearly managed to get Sir Granger to the Yule Ball, but who most definitely wets his pants everytime someone mentions Professor Snape.

[Shot of Neville Longbottom and his clopper Trevor, who keeps running away. Neville also keeps tripping over his robes.]

Lee: The last person the group found was Sir-Not-Appearing-In-This-Fanfic.

[Lee's hand comes into view, holding up a picture of Blaise Zabini's body. Of course, only his/her left big toe is visible, because Lee accidentally dropped the camera when he was taking the picture, so I guess we'll never know if he/she is a boy or a girl.]

Lee: Together, these group of five men - er, I mean four men and one woman - formed the group that would try and overthrow the Ministry of Magic so Harry Potter could rule over the wizarding world! They called themselves the Knights of the Not-So-Round-Table. Normally, the table would've been round, but Sir Longbottom blew part of it up. So anyway, I think these five kids are our only hope or something...I'm going off to pray now. Bye!