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HARRY POTTER and the REST of the SENTENCE
Book II in the Botnik Saga
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CHAPTER THREE:
"The Skirts of the Great Surprise"
"I am speaking," spoke Harry Potter. "And I think we should do this in the middle of the night. Centaurs sure mean to offend, you know? I would like to speak to them. And it will be painful."
"But," Hermione objected, "Harry, I doubt that going to the forest would be enough. You might strike the rest of'em with your uncanny worms, maybe? "
"That," said Harry, "is a bit good. Very well. …Hermione, you're you in a way that I never noticed I want. "
She was blushing, looking alarmed as she continued to flutter darkly at Harry's tartan.
"…But Hagrid is dead!"
"Deathstick is dead," Harry said, "Professor is dead… all the same. I think it doesn't matter. Some of your people are dead too, yes? "
"Ghosts see what you have done."
"Oh, I know. …that's yours here."
Harry looked down and picked up the mangled remains of Hufflepuff's skirts. She did not pick up.
"Don't you think you'd get a clear benefit from one?"
Hermione seemed genuinely pristine as she replied by putting the rest of the sentence at the end of the sentence and the beginning of the kitchen at the start of the sentence.
"I would crouch to this end," she announced with a jolt.
"Ah. " said Harry. "That *is* a very irritating point."
No longer flooding the room, the skirts sharply vaulted back to their dormitory ; but they did not belong to the Castle. They hurried back up the stairs and turned into a cracked diary at him. Harry yawned. This was not remotely original. The cracked diary hastily dropped Slughorn, who absentmindedly quickened his pace and fled. It was a different plan, but it was too late. Harry said "OGDEN".
The assortment of objects sitting as a cracked diary hissed slightly as the train hit it in his throat. Then the whole thing, with the force of a giant snake, pounded up into the rafters, more and more rapidly, until forced calm came over it. As it was essentially quite dead.
Harry had to crane his neck to check, but unfortunately, it was not Draco Malfoy's.
At least thirty musical saws dropped from the ceiling.
Harry didn't have time to speak long before this injustice swiped away his voice, and he could not say OGDEN.
Hermione looked revolted as Malfoy sniggered from the ceiling and pulled himself down beside Harry.
"Harry," said Draco, "I don't like Harry."
Harry could not understand how this was happening.
"Er, I am colored string?" said Mrs. Harry, who was not being asked to give an opinion.
Harry really did not seem to understand how it had happened.
"And since I don't, " Draco weakly repeated, " I don't care for inflicting punishment upon you, but I don't care for inflicting any fragments of happiness on Harry, either. My father will be hearing about this! "
"And he will be paying! With much painful internal pulling of the death!"
