Ok, not many reviews but once it gets going I'm sure everyone will love it.
Right? Guys? Love it? Anyhoo.....
Harry paced up and down the room. Where were you most likely to find a person who loved him so much that they started both a magazine and a radio show for him?
"London." suggested Hermione.
"Nah." said Harry. "The way we go on about London you would think there were no other cities in Britain. Maybe we should go somewhere else. Scotland, maybe?
"Wait- you mean there are other cities in Britain?" asked Ron." You got to be Joking right? I mean in the last few years, anything interesting that's happened has always been in London or on a small countryside campsite/ grave yard."
Harry tutted at Ron's ignorance and headed for the fire. "We'll get there using floo powder." He said, whipping out some powder and jumping into the fire. But instead of the nice, pleasant feeling of having burning hot ash up your nose, a great pain started throbbing in his head. He started turning in the fire spinning faster and faster.
To his utmost surprise he fell out in to thin air. And kept falling. And kept- well you get the idea.
Then a voice behind him " Guess who, Mr Potter?"
"Snape?" he said. He didn't really think it was Snape, he had grown out of that a long time ago, but he was finding it hard to let go. Accusing him was so much fun.
"No your other arch nemesis!" replied you know who.
"So you're either Draco Malfoy or Cruella Devil."
"No damn you! I'm Lord Voldemort, the man who makes your trains late, the man who spawned Reality television, the man who makes Mobile phone receptions dodgy under long tunnels, the man who causes power cuts right before your favourite TV show, The man who makes you run out of glue just as you need it, and also the man who makes famous boy wizards fall out of fire places into nothingness."
" Right. One man can do all that? Asked Harry.
"Yes! Well, most of it. I have to owe the mobile phone/bridge thing to the dementors. I owe a lot to them." You know who replied, almost getting teary eyed.
Before it turned into a surreal, Oscar night crossed with your worst nightmare experience, Harry realised something.
"I don't normally see you 'till the last chapter or two."
" I know, and no-ones more sorry than me that I had to see you now. But it looks like my shares in Starbucks © may just reach a peak by the time you and your pubescent pals have worked this one out. So- " AVARDA KEVDARA" he said pointing his wand at Harry.
It was a moment before anyone realised Harry had been hit squarely in the chest. It was another moment before everyone realised what this meant. Harry was dead. Surely not! But then another problem arised. How can you fall down dead when you can't stop falling in the first place?
Strange COME ON FANS OF HP! DO WHAT YOU DO BEST! Review bizarre Fan fiction!
Harry paced up and down the room. Where were you most likely to find a person who loved him so much that they started both a magazine and a radio show for him?
"London." suggested Hermione.
"Nah." said Harry. "The way we go on about London you would think there were no other cities in Britain. Maybe we should go somewhere else. Scotland, maybe?
"Wait- you mean there are other cities in Britain?" asked Ron." You got to be Joking right? I mean in the last few years, anything interesting that's happened has always been in London or on a small countryside campsite/ grave yard."
Harry tutted at Ron's ignorance and headed for the fire. "We'll get there using floo powder." He said, whipping out some powder and jumping into the fire. But instead of the nice, pleasant feeling of having burning hot ash up your nose, a great pain started throbbing in his head. He started turning in the fire spinning faster and faster.
To his utmost surprise he fell out in to thin air. And kept falling. And kept- well you get the idea.
Then a voice behind him " Guess who, Mr Potter?"
"Snape?" he said. He didn't really think it was Snape, he had grown out of that a long time ago, but he was finding it hard to let go. Accusing him was so much fun.
"No your other arch nemesis!" replied you know who.
"So you're either Draco Malfoy or Cruella Devil."
"No damn you! I'm Lord Voldemort, the man who makes your trains late, the man who spawned Reality television, the man who makes Mobile phone receptions dodgy under long tunnels, the man who causes power cuts right before your favourite TV show, The man who makes you run out of glue just as you need it, and also the man who makes famous boy wizards fall out of fire places into nothingness."
" Right. One man can do all that? Asked Harry.
"Yes! Well, most of it. I have to owe the mobile phone/bridge thing to the dementors. I owe a lot to them." You know who replied, almost getting teary eyed.
Before it turned into a surreal, Oscar night crossed with your worst nightmare experience, Harry realised something.
"I don't normally see you 'till the last chapter or two."
" I know, and no-ones more sorry than me that I had to see you now. But it looks like my shares in Starbucks © may just reach a peak by the time you and your pubescent pals have worked this one out. So- " AVARDA KEVDARA" he said pointing his wand at Harry.
It was a moment before anyone realised Harry had been hit squarely in the chest. It was another moment before everyone realised what this meant. Harry was dead. Surely not! But then another problem arised. How can you fall down dead when you can't stop falling in the first place?
Strange COME ON FANS OF HP! DO WHAT YOU DO BEST! Review bizarre Fan fiction!