CHAPTER ELEVEN

Their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was Professor Lupin. Harry giggled at the name, especially when he learned that the professor's first name was Remus. Because both names were wolf-related. And he thought it was funny that a wolf was teaching him how to defend himself. Because wolves didn't use sniper rifles. And obviously to Harry, sniper rifles were the most instrumental defensive tool ever. And offensive. And culinary, but that was something he kept to himself.

Anyway, Professor Lupin told them about how Voldemort had been reincarnated. Harry took out his sniper rifle and said, "It's dark wizard shooting time."

Lupin then went on to explain, ignoring Harry, that nobody could tell where Voldemort was currently hiding. Harry yelled, "Dobby!"

The elf appeared in the middle of Harry's first lesson of the new term, and cast a silencing charm on Lupin so as to better hear Harry's follow-up request. "I need you to find Voldemort, Dobby," said Harry, as Lupin gesticulated angrily. Lupin's gesticulations suddenly ceased. He wanted to hear the answer to Harry's question (not that he was making much noise anyway).

"Find him?" asked Dobby, "But he's just in that cupboard over there, eavesdropping to find out how your defense lesson is going. I was too, actually, until you summoned me. That's how I know."

Harry aimed his sniper rifle at the cupboard and shot repeatedly. He didn't stop until there was virtually no cupboard left. Luckily, it was actually Voldemort who had been in the cupboard, and not a boggart. Harry discreetly looted Voldemort's pockets for money.

Dumbledore suddenly burst into the defense classroom.

"COME IMMEDIATELY TO THE GRAND HALL I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!" he screamed. (Harry had insisted that everyone start calling it the Grand Hall, instead of the Great Hall, because Steven Royce Daniels had had a Grand Hall at his school, PigPustules.) The students all flooded out of the room, because Harry was still firing with his sniper rifle. He stopped firing his rifle and looked around, then remembered he was meant to be going to the Grand Hall. He put the sniper rifle in his back pocket (hoping it didn't fire accidentally) and walked to the Grand Hall. There he found a note: "Just joking, Harry. I meant the North Tower."

He made his way to the North Tower. He entered through the doors just in time to hear Dumbledore say

"… and since Voldemort has now been defeated, we shall begin referring to the 'Grand Hall' by its proper title, the 'Great' Hall."
Harry felt used. Had they really just gone along with his childhood fantasy so he would beat Voldemort for them? Yes. Harry had pulled this conclusion from nothing, but was entirely convinced it was correct. He took the sniper rifle out of his (extremely deep) back pocket. There was no time to consult with his moral compasses. He thought they would probably allow it, anyway. Kneeling down in the typical sniper-shooting position, the one he'd learnt from Steven Royce Daniels himself, he shot Dumbledore through the head three times, and then through the foot six times. Dumbledore fell from the tower in slow motion.

"HAAAAAAARRRRRRRYYYYYYY!" screamed Ron and Hermione. Harry found this oddly simultaneous.

"What is it, guys?" he asked, as though it was completely normal to shoot Dumbledore nine times.
"HARVEY AND I HAVE SOME SPEAKING TO DO TO YOU," said Hermione.

They quickly rushed Harry to the Great/Grand Hall and Hermione slapped him across the face. Ron slapped him across the stomach, seeing that Hermione had taken his face.

"GUYS!" Harry yelled, "What is with the slapping?" He pulled out his sniper rifle, but Hermione ducked.

"Whoa, Hermione, I'm not gonna shoot you! You're my moral compass… one of them, anyway."
"You only need one moral compass, Harry," said Ron.

"And," Hermione added sadly, "It probably shouldn't be me. I am now aware that I was probably not a very good influence on you." Harry thought Hermione was being stupid, so he put his sniper rifle away so it didn't get stupid germs on it.

"Harry," Ron said sternly, "I realise that, growing up in a cupboard, you didn't have much time to develop a moral compass of your own. I think you should not be allowed a sniper rifle of your own until you have developed one. HAND IT OVER"
Harry didn't want to hand over his sniper rifle, so he ran, conveniently hitting Ron in the head as he went.

He fled to his Chamber of Secrets, changing the password as he went in. He didn't want anyone to disturb him, and he threw everybody out, but Ginny refused to leave. Harry didn't threaten her with a sniper rifle, because he loved and respected her for herself, as advised by Ron and Hermione. He sat down and thought by the fire.

He thought, and thought, and thought. Then he thought, and thought, and thought, and thought.

"Think, think, think," he said to himself, tapping his head with a paw (or more precisely, a lucky rabbit's foot that he'd found lying around).

His dog, Sirius, came over, and he realised that even without a sniper rifle, he would still have his dog.
"Ginny," he said, "do you think I should have a gun without a moral compass?"

His dog transformed briefly into a human, "Remember I told you to call me Sirius," it reminded him helpfully. Ginny fell over, "SIRIUS BLACK!"

"WHAT?" yelled Harry, looking around wildly, "WHERE?" and he pulled out his sniper rifle. Ginny tackled Harry, "no, Harry, you can't have that without a moral compass! You might shoot someone that isn't a criminal!"

"BUT YOU SAID YOU SAW SIRIUS BLACK!" screamed Harry, "I HAVE TO HEROICALLY LOOK AFTER YOU!" By this time, Sirius had transformed back into a dog, because he did not condone capital punishment in any way, shape, or form, or encourage his readers to do so.

"Your dog turned into Sirius Black," Ginny explained gently.
"No, you must have misunderstood – I called him "Blackie" once, but he asked to be called "Sirius". He's not Sirius Black."

Seeing that the sniper rifle was well controlled, Sirius transformed once more into a human to quickly explain his innocence. "I'm innocent," he explained. Harry and Ginny believed him. How could they not, with his big puppy-dog eyes looking at them? "Also, you shouldn't have a sniper rifle until you develop a moral compass of your own," said Sirius. Harry and Ginny believed him. How could they not, with his big puppy-dog eyes looking at them? Harry reluctantly handed his sniper rifle over. Ginny said, "No! Harry! Don't give a suspected mass-murderer a sniper rifle!" just as people burst into the room.

Now long-used to the strange deathly scenarios often found around Harry, the people streaming in screamed and ducked robotically. Sirius quickly turned back into a dog before anyone spotted him. Harry left his sniper rifle lying there, regretfully apologising in his head to Steven Royce Daniels. Then he realised that these circumstances fit very closely with those under which Steven Royce Daniels had proposed to his wife. He quickly pulled a ring from his pocket (he'd looted it from a grave). He put it on Ginny's finger and decided that her not taking it off was her acceptance.

Hermione, who had come in with the stream of people, sighed happily. "How romantic!" she said. Ron, being a better moral compass, said, "Harry, you need to ask her first." He turned to Hermione, "Like so!" and he pulled the ring he had bought earlier in case this situation arose from his pocket, "Would you do me the honour of agreeing to marry me?" he said.

"How romantic!" screamed Hermione. "I mean, yes!" Harry didn't have much of a moral compass of his own, but he found it a bit weird that this was happening, because they were only thirteen.

Shrugging, he turned back to Ginny, "When I shoved that ring on your unprotesting finger, it should have been viewed as a marriage proposal," he informed her.

"Oh. Well then, I accept," said Ginny.

"How romantic!" screamed Hermione.

Two relationship tears rolled down the cheeks of everybody in the room, even the single ones, because it was so romantic.

Down in the dungeons, a single tear rolled down Snape's cheek.

THE END.