A Terrifically Spiffily Great Second Chapter

The next day Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking on the Hogwarts grounds by the Forbidden Forest on their way to see Hagrid. Ron and Harry were laughing and joking about some prank they planned to pull, and Hermione was getting ticked at them for not letting her in on it.

"Come on Hermione you know you'll just not want us to do it" whined Ron. "You'll say it's against school rules and then quote exactly which one and which page and what paragraph in Hogwarts: The Rules".

"Ronald why are you whining?" asked Hermione. "You sound like a drunk skunk when you do that, did you know?"

"A drunk skunk!!!" shouted Ron, his face flaming redder than his hair, which is quite a feat to pull off. "A drunk skunk! Only a girl would have come up with something that dumb!"

At this point the narrator (me) hits a little key that says 'Delete' on the keyboard and Ron just poof disappears.

"Bloody hell!" shouted Harry. "Where did Ron go?"

Hermione looked around. "Oh how peaceful" she happily sighed.

At this point they have come up to Hagrid's cozy little hut, and they knocked on the door. A couple minutes later, during which Hermione had tapped her toe, crossed her arms, sighed huffily eight times, rolled her eyes six times, and drummed her fingers on her arm about twenty-three times. She wanted to get back up to the castle to work on her Study of Illogical Scenes homework.

When Hagrid opened the door Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped open in utter and total shock for a complete two minutes and five point six seconds.

"What happened!" they both exclaimed. Really it was like when Fred and George talked at the same time. Quite creepy actually. Anyways.

Hagrid looked around shiftily. "Come in come in" he muttered and swung the door shut behind them.

Immediately upon stepping into the room, Fang, Hagrid's enormous black dog, started drooling all over Harry's brand new black robes with spiffy crimson and gold borders and piping. "Ew" said Harry, glaring at the poor dog before turning to look at Hagrid again.

"What happened to your face?" asked Hermione, putting her hand primly to her mouth. The narrator (that's me!) looks askance at Hermione and says Gee I didn't know you were so… so… girlish! Hermione looks around and asks, "Did you two hear a voice? It said something about girls…"

Hagrid's face was covered in flaming hot pink stripes. His beard was covered in eye-blindingly bright lime green polka dots. His hair…oh, his hair. It was… hippyish for lack of a better word. It was messily braided into multiple strands sticking out all over his head, and random ones had been colored bright neon safety-cone orange. The ends were tied with fuzzy psychedelic purple bands that flashed purple lights when Hagrid moved his head. Altogether, it was completely overwhelming, unHagridlike, and made one sick to their stomach if they looked at it for more than one point seven seconds.

Harry found this out the hard way. He ran to a bucket in the corner and rid himself of the afternoon's delicious lunch menu of roasted sawdust-and-stone biscuits, brain (of hippopotamus, of course) pot pie, shrub-and-leaf salad, and mint moose dropping ice cream. Harry looked into the bucket disappointedly (he had loved lunch, it wasn't every day they got fare that good) but called Hermione and Hagrid over.

"Look how much worse it looks now!" he exclaimed. "At lunch I almost didn't want to eat because it looked so good, but now it looks disgusting!"

The narrator (that's me again!) looks into the bucket over all three of their heads. The reader (you) says Hey, how does that work? You can't be taller than Hagrid! The narrator (me again) says loftily I am the narrator. I am writing this story. You are not. So shut up and let me tell it. The reader (you) says Gee you (the narrator, of course) are rude. The narrator (me!) says No I am not you (the reader) are interrupting. Now I (the narrator) shall get back to my evil-genius story.

Interestingly enough, Harry's ejected lunch did not look disgusting. In fact, it looked scrumptious. There were spun-sugar troll feet and sugar-peach pumpkins and blueberry licorice spiderwebs and goat-milk bubblegum burgers and so much more. It was a feast anyone sane would love.

"Wow, that is beyond disgusting!" Hermione cried. Just then a pop was heard. At that moment, the narrator (me) gasped and glared with three evil gold eyes. Ron had come back!

"Oh my god guys!" he squealed. "I found like this totally spiff wand and like it's so cool, most def!" He looked normal (as normal as Ronald Weasley can anyway), but he was talking like a complete Valley Girl! The narrator (me) cracks up at this moment and isn't able to write any more. Sorry folks.