Chapter 13: Insane Pupil Gloomy

Fred: I say we develop an aging potion. No-one will know that we're too young if we do that.

George: Especially if they're an unbiased third party with no knowledge of us.

Lee: There's no way this plan could fail.

Harry: And here I was thinking a simple fake ID would work fine.

Hermione: Silly Harry, as if they'd think of something that simple.

Fred: Hey, didn't you have a time turner?

George: Any chance we could borrow it to go into the future and send our future selves back to compete in the competition?

Hermione: First of all, I don't have it anymore. Second of all, how'd you find out I have one? And third of all, me and Harry are still paranoid that we've broken the timeline beyond all repair after everything that happened last year.

Harry: At least our time travel stuff made more sense than Endgame's.

Ron: Hey Hermione, why are you loading your plate with stuff? I thought you weren't eating food prepared by lesser beings?

Hermione: *glares at him* How can any of you let him get away with this racist crap?

Lee: Meh, I'm just glad it's not directed at my people this time.

Dean: You mean our people, right?

Lee: Yes I do *high fives him* Why don't we have more scenes together?

Dean: Maybe because…

Hermione: Anyway, the reason I'm eating it is because I think there are better ways for me to campaign for house elf rights.

Harry: You ran out of Tic Tacs, didn't you?

Hermione: Irrelevant *practically inhales her food, causing stunned silence from the others*

Harry: Okay…that happened…the only way that could have been more horrifying is if your jaw unhinged like a snake.

Ginny: What's wrong with snakes?

Harry: I nearly died from one a year ago, remember? You were there and mostly the cause of it.

Ginny: Oh yeah. Good times.

Ron: Mail's here *watches all the owls flying in with stuff*

Fred: You wanna take bets on what Neville forgot this year?

George: That seems a bit mean, so of course I do.

Neville: Why do you assume I forg… *a package lands in his lap* …shut up.

Fred: I bet he forgot his robes.

Neville: It's Trevor.

Fred: FUCK!

George: Next time, check and see if he's wearing his robes first.

Harry: Huh, still no sign of Hedwig.

Ron: Who cares? We just got our timetables, and it looks like we'll be having Herbology first thing on a Monday.

Harry: Today's Friday.

Ron: Off we go.

*in the Greenhouses*

Sprout: What the fuck are you kids doing here?

Harry: Apparently the week resets when we come to Hogwarts.

Sprout: Oh, that's right. Now, before we begin, Mr. Finnigan, you may excuse yourself as soon as you hurt yourself.

Seamus: Why? What are we doing?

Sprout: We're collecting pus.

Harry: Your entire class is fourteen years old. Pimple pus is ninety percent of our faces.

Parvati: PIMPLES?! EEK! Lavender, get them off me. GET THEM OFF ME!

Lavender: Hold on, I got it *pulls out wand* Furnunculus *there was a flash of light*

Parvati: Are they gone?

Lavender: I don't know, you didn't have any to begin with. Quick, do me now.

Seamus: Do as in…

Lavender: Get the pimples off my face.

Seamus: Damn it. One day…

Parvati: Furnunculus *a flash of light in front of Lavender's face* Luckily, I don't think you had any pimples either.

Sprout: Three.

Lavender: What?

Sprout: Two.

Parvati: Huh?

Sprout: One *Parvati and Lavender suddenly gain hundreds and hundreds of pimples*

Parvati: WHAT THE FUCK?!

Lavender: GET THEM OFF! GET THEM OFF! *runs out of classroom with Parvati*

Sprout: Maybe if they'd looked past the word pimple, they'd have realised what the spell actually did. Ironically, the pus we're collecting is used for curing acne.

Harry: So, we're curing pus, with pus?

Hermione: Yeah. Everyone knows the best way to fight fire is with fire.

Harry: Pretty sure Pokémon taught us otherwise.

Hermione: No it didn't, it hasn't even come out yet.

*later, in Care of Magical Creatures*

Harry: Hey Malfoy, planning on mutilating yourself through your own idiocy with whatever we're handling today?

Draco: Silly Potter. Everyone knows that the judge ruled in my favour after he coincidentally got a large donation from my father.

Hermione: Wow, your father was so unconfident with his case, he had to bribe a judge against an unconscious drunk man.

Draco: How dare you mudblood. Goyle, say something scathing to her.

Goyle: Duh.

Draco: Ooh, that's nasty. Crabbe, follow it up.

Crabbe: Gah.

Draco: Man, when did you become such a savage?

Ron: Should…should we be offended?

Harry: Just let him pretend for now.

Hagrid: Awright kids, 'oo wan's tah play with dangros anmals? *drops a box in front of them, which starts letting off several explosions*

Seamus: Well, better stick my dick in it.

Dean: How do you have anything left at this point?

Hagrid: These here are Blas'-Ended Skrewts. I don' know shit abou' 'em, so we'll be makin' this up as weh go, okay?

Harry: Still more prepared than Lockhart.

Hermione: Wait, I've never even heard of these *stunned silence from the rest of the class*

Hagrid: 'course not. I bred a manticore and a fire crab over the summer to make 'em.

Harry: I'm not even going to question how a mammal and a crustacean managed to breed.

*later*

Hermione: I've got Arithmancy next, how about you guys?

Ron: Divination.

Hermione: You're continuing with that farce of a subject?

Harry: Need I remind you that she actually predicted that we'd meet Pettigrew a few months back? There's no way anyone could have seen that coming. Except Sirius. And Lupin at the end there.

Hermione: Lucky guess *starts shovelling food into her mouth*

Harry: You know eating like that will make you spew, right?

Hermione: Spew, huh? That's gives me an idea *gets up* I'm going to the library.

Ron: I know how you feel. Libraries make me sick too.

Hermione: That's not it. I've got an idea *leaves*

Harry: So, we're just going to ignore how stupid Arithmancy is as a concept?

Ron: What could be stupid about a magical class based around mathematics? You need to be some kind of wizard to understand that shit.

*in Divination*

Harry: I wonder how long it will be before Trelawney predicts my death?

Trelawney: *enters the room* You're still alive?

Harry: A second and a half apparently.

Trelawney: Don't worry child, it won't be the last time I see your death this school year. I can see at least three dangerous situations for you in the next year.

Harry: So I was right to be anxious when Dumbledore mentioned the Triwizard Tournament?

Trelawney: Ah, the Triwizard Tournament. Someone's gonna die during it. Probably you.

Harry: HA! I'm too young for it. I win.

Hermione: *from Arithmancy* Told you she was a fraud.

Trelawney: Now, today we'll be learning about Astrology…

Ron: I believe Hermione now.

Trelawney: You, boy. The doomed one. Born mid-winter, right?

Harry: Nope. July.

Trelawney: Australian winter, I knew it. I also know that you were born under the rays of Saturn, a rare occurrence.

Harry: Every twenty nine years.

Trelawney: Why do you sound sceptical?

Harry: Because science contradicts everything Astrology stands for. Now, either teach us something useful, or…

Trelawney: Or what? You'll leave? Good luck with that. Rowling has you stuck here for another book after this one kiddo.

Harry: …fuck.

*at dinner*

Ron: So, why is this chapter named after Moody? He hasn't even appeared yet.

Draco: Hey Weasley, your father screwed up at the Ministry again.

Harry: Oh, come on Malfoy. There's literally no-one here that's surprised by that *turns back to face the others*

Draco: How DARE you ignore me *pulls out his wand, only to get thrown back* What the hell? *sees Moody pointing his wand at him* You…you can't do that.

Moody: What, you mean cast a spell on someone while their back is turned? Like you were about to do?

Draco: You're…you're a teacher.

Moody: And you're a student that needs disciplining.

Draco: That…I'm gonna tell my fa… *there's a flash of light, and suddenly Draco's a ferret*

Moody: Tell him what, exactly? *ferret squeaks at him* Aww, isn't that adorable, you still think you're a threat. Wingardium Leviosa *ferret starts floating in the air*

McGonagall: Moody, what the fuck is that?

Moody: I believe you know him as Draco Malfoy.

McGonagall: Oh. Well, as deputy headmistress, I am supposed to tell you that transfiguration is not an approved method of punishment for a student.

Moody: That doesn't sound like a command to change him back.

McGonagall: That's because the snobbish little prick has had this coming for years. Carry on for five minutes, or until you get bored, whichever comes first.

Moody: Excellent. Who's up for a game of ferret tennis *entire Gryffindor table raises their hands*

Harry: Well, I like him. Let's hope he's not hiding some horrible secret.