Harry Potter and the Blatant Copyright Infringement!
Disclaimers : If I hear the sentence 'We need to be more tolerant' one more time, I'm gonna shoot somebody.
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Chapter Fourteen : The Care Bears in Huggles and Squizzles Land
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There was no funeral for Peeves. He was already dead, after all, and a funeral for a twice dead guy just seemed a bit repetitive and redundant. To everyone's disappointment, this meant no pony rides or balloons, either.
Classes continued unabated, and life returned to normal; at least, as normal as it could be, what with so many dead and all. Harry was filled with anticipation at the approach of the Quidditch season.
"We'll be starting Quidditch soon," Harry said to Ron as they hurried towards their Duct Tape Yourself Thin class. "That fills me with anticipation."
"Smells more like you're filled with beans and broccoli. Is that you?" Ron asked. "We're going to be late for class. We'd better galumph." And so, off the two galumphed, ignoring the blinking neon sign proclaiming, 'No galumphing in the halls'.
They made it to class in time, just as the duct tape teacher, Professor Bluecollar, was gathering his lecture notes. Harry scarcely listened to the lecture, as he was anticipating Quidditch (as mentioned in paragraphs two and three). Oh, and also wondering from time to time who the murderer on the grounds was. Then he remembered it was Snape, and went back to his anticipations.
Practices went well, and before he knew it, it was the night before the first game. They were to play Slytherin, and tensions were high. They suspected Dobby was, too. He kept popping in and out of the Gryffindor common room to make random announcements, like, "Dobby just saved a lot of money on broom insurance by switching to Geico!" or "Dobby has Harry Potter on his underwear today!"
"Sounds like Dobby's been lighting up in Professor Sprout's greenhouse again," Hermione observed.
Just then, John walked through, carrying his left arm, which had been severed from his body, over his right shoulder. The other three looked at him with surprise.
"Paper cut," John explained sheepishly. "Need to go to the hospital wing."
"How does he do that?" Ron muttered as they watched John and his arm disappear through the portrait hole.
"I still don't see how we avoided noticing him until this year," Harry said.
"Did we ever find out where he went when he disappeared on us last chapter?" Ron asked.
Hermione replied, "I asked him. He told me his brain was beginning to hemorrhage and he had to go take something."
Their chat of John and his vast array of ailments continued, and before they knew it, it was time for bed. They slept through the next part of the chapter, including a particularly smashing bit involving McGonagall bitch-slapping Filch from the first floor to the astronomy tower and a rather amusing scene involving the Mirror of Erised, Professor Trelawney, three cocker spaniels and some rather questionable shellfish, but since this story only follows Harry's exploits, we shall skip to when he woke up.
Harry awoke, positive he had heard the sound of skipping, and looked around to see Dobby sitting in the corner.
"Oooh, what did Dobby do last night...?" the annoying little prat moaned, clutching his head.
Ignoring him, Harry arose and dressed, ready to prepare for his upcoming game by going down to the Great Hall and not eating breakfast.
"Dobby hopes he isn't pregnant," the elf groaned. Harry left before Dobby said anything else and raised the rating of this story.
After breakfast, everyone hurried out to the Quidditch field for the upcoming match. Harry had been pleased to note that Malfoy had looked a little green in the Great Hall, but that might have just been the eggs. They dressed in silence, and no one gave a pre-game speech, because three books have come out since the beginning of this story and the authors no longer know which storyline to follow, and subsequently, who to deem captain.
They made their way out onto the pitch amidst the roar of the crowd, facing the Slytherins with looks of grim determination. This was it. This was the game the whole school had been waiting for. This was the moment. This was the time. This was the place. This... is CNN. No, wait, James Earl Jones wasn't in the Harry Potter movies. Sorry.
Anyway, this was it. The moment of glory. The moment of tension. The moment I laid eyes on you... sorry. The teams mounted their brooms and prepared to kick off as Madame Hooch raised her whistle to her lips and placed her hand on the latch of the Big Box o' Quidditch Things. The whistle sounded as the lid flew open and the Bludgers took to the sky.
The Golden Snitch flew out of the box and straight up Harry's nose.
It was the shortest game in Hogwarts history.
However, as Harry had been prepared for a kick off and didn't, his broom decided to start without him. It flew straight up into the air, made a sharp turn, and took a nose-dive into the Whomping Willow.
Harry missed all of this because one of the Snitch's wings was tickling his brain.
"Well, mate, it looks like you're getting a Buttmover," Ron said, clapping Harry on the back.
"Huh?" Harry responded, pausing in his Nasal Snitch Dislodging efforts.
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Did you know we started writing this before the fifth book came out? It's true.