1.1.1.1 OBHGF is Proud to Present…
The Lovers Letter
1.2
1.3 A New Girl Comes to Hogwarts, pleez R&R
Imogen was nervous about her first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was a new American exchange student, and didn't know anything about the school. Luckily, another student named Paula had taken pity on her and was showing her the ropes of Hogwarts. "And over here we have the dungeons," Paula said. "Professor Snape is the Potions master. He has the tendency to be a bit ornery, but since he is our Head of House, he favors us. Don't worry about him too much."
Suddenly, a tawny owl swooped into the corridor to deliver Paula her mail. Paula took the package out of its talons, patted its head, and turned back to Imogen.
"Oh, that reminds me! Did you bring an animal? You're going to need one." Imogen nodded and held up a small cage. "I don't think you have these in Britain. My mom bought it for me upon my graduation from middle school. He's called a Smurf. His name is Handy. Do you want to see him?"
Paula took out the small Smurf and held him in her hand. "His name is Handy??" she giggled, "What's he handy for?" Paula giggled and Imogen playfully smacked her friend. The Smurf flew out of Paula's hand and tumbled to the floor. He looked at the two girls for a moment and then scampered off. Imogen smacked her forehead. "Oh no! We've got to go get him; my mom will kill me if I lose him!! She won't let me go to Cancun for spring break!" The two girls tore off into the dungeons after the fleeing Smurf.
1.4 Why is There Never a Smurf Handy When You Need One
Meanwhile, another pair of rogues was hard at work in Snape's classroom. Standing over a boiling cauldron, Fred read off the ingredients they needed as George added them in. "A cup of crushed beetle eyes, a pinch of powdered boomslang skin, half a cup of Prestolicious root. Stir continuously until the potion comes to a full boil. Then add the final ingredient. A Smurf."
"A Smurf??" George asked. "What in Merlin's beard is that?"
"I'm not sure," Fred replied, "but there's a picture. It's short and blue, with a white hat and TROUSERS!!!!!"
"SHH!" George hissed, "not so loud!" "
Sorry!" Fred said, "I don't know why but I just had the sudden urge to scream trousers."
"Well, anyway," George said, "Where in the name of all things Gryffindor are we going to get one of those?"
"I don't know," Fred snapped, "but we better find it soon, it's the most important part of the potion."
Suddenly, the pitter-pattering of tiny feet interrupted the boys' whispers. Handy Smurf rushed in, screaming, "Help me! Help me! Holy Smurfola, HELP ME!!" in his squeaky Smurf voice. The mischievous twins couldn't believe their luck. They looked at each other with an identical glint in their eyes. Fred turned to the tiny creature and said, "What's your name, little guy?"
"My name is Handy Smurf and I am on the run from the evil queen who captured me! She's got her tiara on full blast and I do NOT want to stick around for that!"
Fred and George looked at each other again. "Well," George said, "you can hide in our cauldron over there, see?" The grateful Smurf looked relieved and said "Thanks, fellas!" Handy scampered into the cauldron quick as a flash.
Somewhere off in Muggle London a low roar could be heard. A little boy asked his mother, "Was that thunder, Mum?"
"I don't know," she replied.
But it wasn't thunder; it was the explosion that emitted from the cauldron that completely rocked the entire castle. Two things emerged from the cauldron. First was a completely ordinary looking piece of parchment, with the words Mssrs. Weasley and Weasley are proud to Present faintly visible upon it. The other was the Smurf, now completely pure white and looking rather frazzled.
"Oh my God!! What have you done to me? I'm not blue anymore!!!" he squeaked. But he couldn't be heard over the twins' gales of laughter. "I guess we'll have to call you Albino Smurf now!" George gasped, tears rolling down his face from laughing so hard. The Smurf scampered off.
"We'd better get out of here, George, the teachers will be down here any second." The twins grabbed the parchment and cauldron and hightailed it out of there. As they watched from a safe distance in a broom closet, they saw Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore swoop into the empty classroom. "Man, this prank is going to rival the Marauder's Map!" Fred whispered. "We're going to be legends!"
"Shh!" George hissed, "I can't hear!" Snape looked fit to kill.
"If I ever find out who did this, I will personally see to it that that person is expelled."
"Relax, Severus," Dumbledore interjected, "It was probably just Peeves up to his usual hi-jinks again." And with that, the three teachers marched off. But little did they know that in a broom closet nearby, two mischievous Weasleys were planning the greatest April Fool's Day prank that Hogwarts had ever seen.
In Which Draco is Embarrassed and the Plot Begins
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall's voice pierced through the cheery breakfast ruckus.
Harry and Ron looked up to the head table at the sound of Malfoy's name to see Professor McGonagall standing up with a large package wrapped in brown paper. "I suppose it's too much to hope," whispered Ron, "that the git is about to be in trouble for mail fraud?"
Harry shrugged. "He doesn't look like he's in trouble," he remarked as Malfoy strode towards the Gryffindor table.
"Very astute, Potter," sneered Draco, apparently overhearing the speculations. "I imagine that some idiot of a house-elf forgot to write the directions clearly on my package of Turkish Delight-- my parents like to send me things like that, you know. Oh, wait," Draco said in a mock- sympathetic tone, "you couldn't know. Weasley's parents don't have enough money to send anything other than an empty envelope, and Potter hasn't got any parents to send him things at all. Pity." Malfoy gave a thin-lipped leer and continued on his way to the head table.
Harry glanced across the table, amazed that Ron had managed to get through another Weasley-taunting debacle without threatening bodily harm. He immediately understood why Ron had remained so silent-- Hermione had apparently discovered that if Ron's mouth were otherwise engaged, he couldn't get himself into trouble. "Ahem," Harry cleared his throat. Hermione pulled back, looking like the cat who had caught the rat-face unregistered Animagus. Ron glanced around, tugging at the neck of his robes and blushing horribly. "Well, Hermione," Harry smirked, "you found a good way to shut him up. Although you'll forgive me if I just continue to slap him upside the head."
"Shove it, Harry," mumbled Ron. "I would've gone after Malfoy, you know, but--" He broke off.
"But what?" Harry asked, grinning.
Ron just shook his head and pointed to the head table. "Will you get a look at that," he said in a reverent voice.
Professor McGonagall, for some reason or other, had requested that Malfoy open his package at the head table. Draco had torn into it eagerly, no doubt expecting to find a mountain of sugary-sweet confections, tossing packing material through the air. Apparently, he had also haphazardly tossed the box's contents out as well, and they were now hanging off the brim of Professor McGonagall's hat.
Harry watched the proceeding in a dreamlike state. This was too good to be true. The-- object-- dangling from McGonagall's hat seemed to be a tiny scrap of red fabric, with little bows that looked remarkably as though they were made from marzipan. McGonagall reached up, and delicately took the underwear between her thumb and her first finger, as though she were handling a bit of highly toxic material.
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall sounded more than a little bit put out. "Is this your idea of a joke, young man?" Malfoy stood dumbstruck in front of the school, most of which was having a laugh at the Slytherin's expense. Draco's protests were lost in the growing roar of laughter, but Harry could see the Slytherin failing his arms and doing a remarkable impression of a fish out of water.
"Wonder whose they are?" Harry snickered to Ron, pointing to the lacy under-things McGonagall was waving about angrily.
"His, I'd wager," Ron laughed. "Don't you think that red strawberry edible underwear is his style?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure they're edible, Ron?" he asked, watching his friend grow ever more red-faced. "Moreover, why do you know what flavor they are?"
"Ron!" Hermione stood up from the table. "I think we'd best get off to the library, if I'm going to help you on that essay." Hermione's ears were suspiciously red, and Harry's eyes widened. You've got to be kidding me, Harry thought to himself, as Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall hurriedly. There are certain things that should remain secret, even between best friends. This happens to be one of them. Harry shook his head, and turned back to his breakfast.
***
At the head table, Minerva McGonagall was in a flutter. Having a pair of edible underwear hurled at you first thing in the morning wasn't the best way to start a day. She moved around in front of the table, picking up the packing material and shoving it angrily back into the box. She paused as she saw a blank piece of parchment lying beside the package. Odd. It must have been enclosed in the package Malfoy opened. In that case, it was probably a part of the prank, and should be treated with ample care.
1.5 The Best Laid Plans…
Minerva McGonagall sighed and stared at the offending piece of parchment with resentment. She had wasted an entire afternoon trying to figure out what it did, or who was responsible for it, but she had come up with nothing. The parchment apparently did nothing. It was just a blank parchment, nothing unusual about it.
But then, why had it been found alongside Mr. Malfoy's present? No. There was something else at work here, and they needed to find that out.
She looked around in her office, and as soon as the idea struck her, she decided to put it in practice. Thinking about things for too long was just a waste of time, she had always thought, and if they were going to find the ones responsible for this she needed to act quickly before they could get rid of all the evidence.
I swear, she whispered to herself. If those Weasley twins are responsible for this they are going to be in a permanent detention until they get out of here. And maybe even after that …
A couple of minutes later, she stood in front of the Snape's office. Severus could surely help. If this was written in invisible ink, or you needed a spell to make it work, or something like that …then it was better to let Severus deal with it. He had experience with things like this. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
"You better be in there Severus …" she warned as she knocked on the door once again, but once again she received no answer. She opened the door and took a couple of hesitant steps in only to discover that the room was empty.
I certainly don't have the time to wait around here, she told herself. Better to leave him a note.
She looked around for a blank piece of parchment, among his many papers, exams and essays but didn't find a thing. A single quill lay on top of his desk, but there was no parchment to be found. She stared at the blank parchment in her hand with distrust. Surely, it wouldn't be a problem if she …
She decided quickly, as was usual with her, and quill in hand she scrabbled a hasty note on a side of the parchment. Better not to write all over it. Satisfied with the result, she hastily retreated from the room, being very careful to lock the door on her way out.
On top of the desk, the note began a slow transformation, and the letters began to change slowly. The original message could still be read, but it wouldn't take long for it to vanish completely.
Severus,
We confiscated this from Mr. Malfoy just after lunch, but we still haven't been able to figure out who is responsible for the tasteless prank. I hope you can help us shed some light into the matter.
2 Minerva McGonagall
*******
Severus Snape barged into his office with a sour look on his face. Stupid Gryffindors. Only one of them could have sent that ridiculous thing to Mr. Malfoy, and all the events that followed the delivery of the present were, of course, not Draco's fault. It was all the Gryffindor's fault.
50 points. It had all cost them 50 points. And to make matters worse, that had dropped them from first place on the House Cup standings to third, and the Gryffindors were now on first place. Just wonderful.
He sat down and looked at his schedule, and the sour look almost vanished from his face when he noticed that his next class was with the 5th year Gryffindors. This could prove to be interesting after all, he thought as he looked through his things.
"This is it!" he exclaimed with satisfaction as he pulled an ancient looking book from one of the bottom drawers and opened it on the second page. "The spell," he said out loud and wrote a few things down before closing the book and settling back on his chair with a smile. "There's just no way they'll get it right"
He stood up and started pacing. He could get Potter to pair up with Longbottom. Things would be even more interesting that way. Maybe he could even drop Gryffindor out of place, if Longbottom screwed things over as he always did.
Things were definitely looking up.
He could just picture it. He would say three owls' eyes; he would hear four and things would go downhill from there. He grabbed the parchment to make a little not underneath it, but the words staring back at him where not the same ones he had written. There were no ingredients or preparation instructions. Instead, a love letter, little pink hearts all over it, was in his hands. A love letter from Minerva to him?
Falling back into his chair, he forced himself to look away. This is an illusion, he told himself. You are imagining things, but when he glanced back down the little pink hearts were still there. He stayed there, his mouth hanging open, while the bright letters glowed and the little pink hearts moved across the paper.
Seevie, it read:
I've been wanting to say this to you for such a long time, and I can hardly contain myself now that I've finally decided to let you know that you are the King of my secret desires. Dearest, I wish I could use Love Potion # 9 on you, to make you love me as much as I love you. The passion burning deep within me is so big it threatens to consume me if you don't feel the same way. Please, say you do love me …and we can be happy together from now on, making up for all the years apart. I know your deepest secrets and now you know my private desires. Let's steal Mr. Malfoy's strawberry underwear and make REAL use of it...we can make some magic together!
Minnie
The letter clutched tightly in his right hand, Severus Snape sat there, staring at the wall, an incredulous look on his face.
2.1.1.1.1 Love Potion Number Nine
The parchment enclosed firmly on his right hand, Severus Snape walked briskly towards the dungeons, with his greasy black hair sticking up in odd angles, and his black eyes looking around worriedly, but with the same sour expression he wore everyday.
Severus Snape wasn't in a good mood today.
Oh no! It was bad enough for his House to have lost 50 points thanks to that stupid, stupid prank on Mr. Malfoy this morning, now a love letter form McGonagall? Soon he would find out he was Neville's long-lost father. That was about all he needed to make this the worst day of his life.
But as soon as he thought of Longbottom, a crazy idea entered his brain and he had to fight back a grin. Maybe if he played his cards right he could still get out of this with his dignity intact.
Twenty minutes later, as he finished giving the 5th year Gryffindor and Slytherins the instructions for the day, he allowed himself to reach inside his robes, for the piece of parchment he had placed there as soon as he entered the dungeons. For a strange reason, he was glad to find it there.
2.2 Could it be that you enjoyed that love letter? A little voice inside of him asked, but he choose to ignore it and he had to fight back the urge to yell as he saw Longbottom mixing it all up the wrong way.
This was going to work better than he thought.
"Longbottom," he called and he was satisfied to see the boy almost jump up at the sound of his voice. "Get me the antidote from my desk, I think your potion needs to be tested."
Neville gulped and all the other Gryffindors took a step back. Hermione stood dangerously close to Neville's cauldron, trying to do something to help him out. But even she didn't notice when Snape silently slipped the parchment inside the cauldron.
A shaking Neville came back with the antidote, and he smiled sourly before warning everyone. "You better stay back, I don't think this is going to work." As he dropped a few drops into the potion.
Nothing happened.
Snape looked around the room. Neville was in shock and the rest of the Gryffindor House was staring at the cauldron with their mouths open, but Ms. Granger looked too satisfied with herself.
"50 points from Gryffindor," he growled at her "This is not a group assignment, Ms. Granger. He was supposed to do it alone. I can't believe you'd do that after last time …" he was interrupted by a very peculiar noise, coming from Neville's direction. He turned around to stare at Longbottom and he went cold for a minute. Longbottom was holding the now very wet, but still readable parchment in his hands, and he was laughing, so hard his knees were shaking and he had to lean into the table, to stop himself from falling to the floor.
"Mr. Longbottom," he managed to get out, "If you feel like laughing, I suggest you do it outside. And 40 points from Gryffindor!"
"Forty????" the whole Gryffindor House started to protest. All of them but Neville, who just quickly gathered his things and ran out of the dungeons, collapsing into the floor as soon as he reached the door, now unable to contain the laughter.
I'm Sorry, But Even *With* Prosthetic Ears....
Neville was barely able to stay upright as he left Professor Snape's classroom. That letter had been absolutely hysterical. He was so busy laughing that he couldn't even stand up straight. In fact, he was laughing so hard that he was crying.
As Neville wiped the tears out of his eyes, he didn't notice the imposing figure in front of him until it was too late.
"M-m-m-Millicent!" he stammered, dropping the letter. "What are you doing here?"
She ignored him and picked up the letter. Opening it, her eyes widened. She turned to stare at Neville, who was hunched up against the wall.
"Leave," she said. "Now."
Neville didn't have to be told twice. He just turned tail and ran.
As soon as Neville was out of sight, Millicent's whole demeanor changed. Staring at the letter, she near swooned. "Oh my dearest Neville," she began. "Why did you not tell me how much you cared, my love?" Millicent smiled, and held the letter close to read it again.
"My dearest Millicent," she read. "How do I love thee? No, I shall not count the ways, for then I shall never be able to stop. Your beauty is unparalleled. The only thing that your extraordinary beauty is lacking is a pair of sexy prosthetic elven ears, so that you can look like that sexay longhaired blond elf with wicked aim and a cool bow, Legolas. Then, you would be absolutely perfect, my sexy elven Princess. And until we meet again, my love, my thoughts will always be with you. Adieu, Your secret Admirer"
Millicent reached up to her ears, and fingered the tips. "You want an elven Princess, Neville, I'll give you an elven princess."
Due to her distraction, Millicent didn't even notice the cackling from the poltergeist behind her until it was too late.
"Peeves!" she cried in outrage. "You give that back!"
Millicent reached for her wand and tried in vain to hex him.
"Ha ha ha, you stinking Slytherin, you can't catch me!" Peeves taunted as he zoomed off with the letter, leaving Millicent all alone once again.
You Know, They Should Make Prozac for Ghosts....
Moaning Myrtle was miserable. Not that there was anything unusual about that. Moaning Myrtle was always miserable. But, she was extra miserable today. First, two little Hufflepuff girls had been in her bathroom almost all day! And then, a pair of older students had been in there snogging, right in front of her. To make matters worse, Myrtle had just gone to the Prefect's Bathroom in an attempt to have some sort of entertainment, and nothing was happening. Still sobbing, Myrtle just decided to go mope in a corner.
A cackle from behind her shocked Myrtle out of the corner. It was Peeves, that dreadful Poltergeist. "What do you want Peeves," she said coldly.
"Ickle little Myrtle has a secret admirer," Peeves howled. He produced a piece of parchment from behind his back. "Dear Myrtle," he read. "How do I love a ghost like you?" He paused. "HAHAHAHA!!!! Who would love a ghost like you?"
Myrtle felt the tears welling up inside her. No one loved her! She began sobbing uncontrollably. Reaching for the note, she lobbed it at Peeves, but narrowly missed and hit the figure that was entering the doorway, soaking him to the bone.
2.3 'Over My Dead Body' Just Seems *Wrong* Now
Draco stumbled outside the Prefect's Bathroom, still numb with shock. He knew that Moaning Myrtle was crazy, but this was a new high (or low as the case may be). What could possibly have possessed her to throw parchment at him, and then go flood the bathroom to the extent that he couldn't even enter? Why couldn't she go haunt her own toilet for a change? Not that he didn't appreciate the attention, but her stares did make things difficult to say the least.
A rather familiar yet extremely annoying voice superimposed itself on Draco's thoughts. Weasley. "What happened Draco? Your girlfriend dump you or something?"
"Considering that you're the one dating that Mudblood Weasley, I don't see why you should be saying anything about Pansy."
"Who said I was talking about her?" Ron handed Draco a sopping wet piece of parchment. The same parchment Myrtle had just thrown at him. Gulping, Draco opened it and read:
Darling Draco,
My love for you is consuming and it will last for eternity. Centuries from now, I will still be here, and I will still love you. I've wished for your death sooo many times, longing for you to be with me, that I've often thought about killing you myself. If I only could have a Draco for my un- life, I would be content. But I can't, and I have left to do is wait and pray that you'll love me back enough to join me in eternity. Dead Draco and Moaning Myrtle. That has such a nice ring to it, don't you agree? We could sail the ghost seas together for all eternity.
Myrtle
Draco stared at it for a good 5 minutes before yelling, "Me and …MYRTLE??? Some things are worse than death!" he exclaimed with conviction.
2.4 Divination Doldrums
Ron Weasley bowed his head and took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his frazzled nerves. He had always known this day would come, as surely as night follows day, as surely as Draco Malfoy was a ferret-faced git. But he had hoped that, perhaps, Fate would hold off on her demands for a while longer, and let him enjoy his youth.
But there was nothing for it. Some things had to be done, regardless of how unpleasant. Ron stood up from the couch, grabbed the notebook and parchment, and marched stiffly across the Common Room. Steady on, old boy, he told himself as he approached his target, just bite the bullet and do this.
Ron swore quietly under his breath, and steeled his resolve. "Lavender?" he croaked, tapping the giggling girl on the shoulder. She turned around and glared at him.
"What, Ron? Can't you see that I'm busy right now?" She gestured to the bridal magazines spread in front of herself and several other of the more vapid female members of Gryffindor. "Honestly," she said, rolling her eyes and turning back to her companions. "Now, Parvati, I think you'd look absolutely smashing in this one; look at the bodice with all those seed pearls-- " Ron gritted his teeth and tapped her on the shoulder again. "What is it, Ron?!?" she snapped, "I said I was busy!"
Ron swallowed back his pride, and something that tasted a good bit like bile. "Um, Lavender, I was wondering if--" He broke off. Dear God. I don't know if I can do this.
"If what, Ron?" Lavender turned all the way around, intrigued by the several shades of puce Ron had turned.
Oh, just do it, already. "I was wondering if you'd-- if you'd--" Ron gulped. "helpmewithDivinationplease."
Lavender stared for a moment. Then she smirked and said, "You actually want my help on Divination? You're not going to just flub it as usual? My, my, my. How the tables have turned." Ron seethed.
"Look," he said sharply, "it's just that I can't get another low mark in there. I still think it's a load of crap. But," and here Ron looked pained, "I just can't get the stupid star chart to make sense. It's all just a lot of bloody dots with funny names to me."
Lavender laughed. "Well, if you'd pay attention once in a while instead of making an arse of yourself-- Here, let's see what you've got." She grabbed the parchment from Ron's hands, and began to read over what he had written.
Her eyes widened, and Lavender erupted into a fit of giggles. "What?" asked Ron, bewildered. "I know that Venus shouldn't be in the same place as Mars, but I couldn't figure out any other place to put it...."
Lavender stood up. "It's very good, Ron," she said in a voice that was meant for toddlers, idiots, and fuzzy little kittens, "I'm just going to go fix a few things. But it's very good, for a first try. Would you like me to give it to her, after I'm done?"
Ron nodded, not quite sure why Lavender had just volunteered to do his homework for him, and to hand it in, but unwilling to question his good luck. "Well then," Lavender said, heading towards the dormitories, "I'd better get to work."
Parvati spoke up, after having been silent during the proceedings. "What," she asked, "was all that about? I've never seen her get maternal over a star chart before...."
Ron shook his head. "I have no idea," he said.
R + L = tru luuuuv...
Lavender was still giggling when she got into her dorm room. Who would have thought that Ron would have been able to write something so romantic? And if he was so good at this, why was he wasting his time on Hermione? Of course, it was probably a good thing that he had come to her, or Ron would be sure to make a fool out of himself.
Sitting down at the desk, she began to recopy everything, making changes as she went along.
My dearest,
I know that we have often fought, but throughout it all I have loved you more than anything else, except perhaps the Chudley Cannons. I know that I have messed up in my time, such as when I forgot Valentines Day, but at least I gave you a flower. Please my darling, you know that I love everything about you; from your bushy hair to the way you get all flustered when we're having an argument. I have never been more proud of you, than I was that time that you slapped Malfoy across the face and then walked out of Divination. Please my love; accept this as a mere token of how much I care for you.
Ron
Lavender nodded appreciatively. Ron hadn't done that bad of a job. However, this letter needed definitely needed a woman's touch.
My Beloved,
I love you more than life itself. Nothing, not even the Chudley Cannons compares to my feelings for you. The way your hair caresses your face, the way you can argue out of any situation, your intelligence. Nay, there is nothing about you that I do not find absolutely perfect. I have never been more proud of you than I was on that fabulous day when you put Draco Malfoy in his place once and for all. I know that I have been a brainless Git on many occasions, but now I hope that this more than makes up for it. Please my darling, forgive me. You have my heart.
Love,
Ron
Lavender took a parting glance at the letter. Yes, this was absolutely perfect, she thought, nodding approvingly. Hermione will definitely be swept off her feet at this one. This should more than make up for Ron's forgetting Valentines Day last month.
Folding the letter up, she waited for Hermione to come back into the dorm room. However, she wasn't a very patient person, so Parvati was quickly sent to catch the missing brainiac. Still giggling, Lavender managed to stuff the letter into Hermione's hands, before exiting into the common room. Hermione took one look at the letter in her hands, before she collapsed into her chair in shock. Grabbing a quill out of her bag, she quickly began to scribble a note to Harry.
Harry, please do me a favor. Can you read this and tell me if I need to commit Ron to St. Mungos? Or did he just overdose and Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster Butterbeer again?
~Hermione~
H/H is a Thing with Feathers....
Harry stared at the letter in disgust. Hermione couldn't be having these romantic thoughts about him, could she? He shook his head, refusing to believe it. No, there was just no way
There had to be an explanation for this letter, he thought as he stared at the piece of parchment in his hand. He took a deep breath and looked around, making sure no one was around, before turning his attention back to the bold pink letters on the parchment, and reading out loud again.
Dearest,
The first time I stared into your wonderful eyes, I fell in love with you. Ever since that moment, I've thought about you all day and dreamt about you all night. There's this ache inside of me that only your presence fills. And, I hope you don't mind...that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world, how you fill my life with joy, how you make me feel at last, like I matter to someone. I've dreamt about this moment for so long, and now that my dreams are so close to being realized I dream about being in your arms where I belong. Please tell me you feel the same.
2.4.1 Someone who loves you
Harry just continued to stare at the letter, a confused look on his face. He didn't understand a thing. If Hermione really felt this way about him, then why had she volunteered to help him with Ginny? And why, on God's name was she dating Ron?
It didn't make sense, he concluded and forced himself to stare back at the letter to look for clues. Five minutes later, he hadn't come up with anything more than a very strong urge to throw up.
Harry and Hermione.
That was just wrong. It was …more than wrong. It was sickening.
What was going on with Hermione? This couldn't be real. Yes, that was it, he was dreaming. A very bad dream.
He wanted to wake up soon.
Fifteen minutes went by, and Harry was still staring at the letter. One more second of it and he would have to head to the bathroom. He had had enough.
Then it hit him, with such force he couldn't believe he hadn't thought about it before.
He had asked Hermione for advice on how to tell Ginny he loved her. This was probably just the answer to that.
The relief he felt was so big, it was almost a physical blow. There was nothing going on with Hermione. She was just being a good friend and helping him out, and the best thing he could do to repay all she was doing for him was to follow her advice.
He grabbed a quill and started copying down the letter, word from word.
2.5 Sockie Ad Hockey
Ginny sighed again, and reread the last lines. Please tell me that you feel the same.
"Oh, Harry," she breathed quietly, and let herself drift off into a day- dream involving a towel, Quidditch, and Harry sprawled across the Common Room floor for approximately two months. It was one of her favorites. But just as she was contemplating getting Harry off the floor, and somewhere more (ahem) comfortable, her reverie was disturbed.
"BLOCKIE!!!!!!!!!!" Ginny looked up in time to see a blur dive in front of her chair.
"Colin Creevey," she said sounding too much like her mother, "what are you doing?!? You just left me with a most uncomfortable cliffhanger..."
Colin sat up, red-face but triumphant. "I blocked," he wheezed. The pink toe sock in his hand giggled and squirmed out of his grasp, running to the other side of the common room.
"I gathered as much," Ginny said dryly. "The question is, blocked what? A writer?"
Colin shook his head. "No, the Sockie." Ginny raised a ginger-colored eyebrow.
"The Sockie," she repeated slowly. "Ah. It's all so clear now." Colin sighed, and shook his head.
"You're saying you've never played?" he asked, incredulously. "It's so great. You've got a Keeper, a Defender, and a Scorer-- well, you can have more than one, obviously-- except for the Keeper... there's only one of those per team...that me, you see." Ginny nodded slowly, and wondered if Ami had started a support group for Sockie Hockey addicts yet.
"And then it's simple, really," Colin continued. "You just have to-- Hang on," he said.
"Let me get some parchment. It's easier if I just write out the commands...otherwise, everyone just keeps asking how you get the red writing to show up...."
Just to stop Colin's incessant babbling, Ginny handed him the parchment in her hand. "Thanks," he said, writing out a bunch of gibberish on the page.
"See?" he pointed to the page, "It's really quite simple. Just /me action." Ginny nodded, and turned the page upside down to see if it made more sense that way.
"I tell you what," Colin said excitedly, "How about you join us for the next game? We can always use another player."
Ginny started. "Oh, I don't know, Colin. I've never played before..." she protested.
"Oh, it's easy," he said, getting up to leave. "Just read over the rules, and feel free to join in."
"Join in on what, Colin?" Ginny turned to see Ron standing behind her.
"Oh, nothing," said Ginny. "Just a game he was telling me about." She handed Ron the list of commands and rules Colin had written down a moment before.
Ron glanced over the parchment. Phrases like, "gorgeous titian hair," "delicate turn of your swan-like neck," and a few choice ones utilizing the words "throbbing" and "pulsating" jumped out at Ron like Tigger on springs.
"Ron?" Ginny asked, looking at the stony expression on her brother's face. "Ron? What's the matter? Do you not like that game? I think it would be good exercise for me...."
Ron snorted. "CREEVEY!" he shouted at Colin's retreating figure. "You've got some nerve, mate...." Ron pulled his wand and muttered Maquillarsius! There was a blast of blue light.
"Don't ever write anything like that to my sister again, okay, Creevey? Otherwise I'll have to do more to reduce your capacity for reproduction. Got me?" Ron stormed off.
Ginny stood up from her armchair. "Oh...dear," she said, trying desperately not to giggle. "Colin," she gasped, "are you okay?!?"
"I...I...I think so," panted the floored Colin. "Although I must say, I don't know why your brother felt the need to Transfigure me into Tammy Fae Baker."
2.6 Exciting Chase Sequence!!!
As Colin walked towards the hospital wing, he was almost knocked over by a blur of a person. It was a red-headed 7th year running from the Albino Smurf, which was right on her heels. Behind the Smurf came four other girls chasing after them, laughing their heads off.
"Help! HEEEELP!" Ami screamed as she ran passed. "This evil misogynistic creature is after me! HELP!!!"
The four other girls chasing after them were Ami's sisters-Elle, Joyce, Liz, and her twin sister Ali. They chased after her, yelling, "Ha ha, Ami's afraid of a Smurf, ha ha ha ha ha!"
"Ami, it's not evil! Just catch it so I can use it for my latest butterbeer invention!" Ali yelled after her. The rest of the girls knocked Colin over as they dashed past. Dazed and confused, Colin got up, brushed himself off, and continued toward the hospital wing.
2.7 I Swear, It's for Medicinal Use Only
Madam Pomfrey looked almost in shock when Colin Creevey hobbled through the door. "Mr. Creevey!" she cried in horror. "What happened to you?"
Colin was unable to talk. He collapsed onto the bed next to Madame Pomfrey, dropping the piece of parchment from his clenched fist as he fell.
Poppy was absolutely horrified. What had they done to the poor boy? I know that the Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry was increasing, she thought. But this is completely out of control! Quickly, she went to work trying to undo the damage. Turning the poor boy into that, that, MONSTROSITY! It was horrific!
"What could have possessed Ronald Weasley to cause him to do something like that?" she asked out loud. "To a member of his own house anyway," she added as an afterthought.
There was no response, not that she had expected one as Colin had fallen asleep. Quickly, Madam Pomfrey placed a call to the Headmaster. As much as she liked the youngest Weasley boy, he had attacked poor Colin without provocation. This whole situation was giving her a headache. Glancing around, Madam Pomfrey ducked into her office. As soon as she realized the coast was clear, she reached into her desk for a little brown bottle she kept there for such emergencies. Taking a sip, she could feel the blood rushing back into her face.
"Ah," she said, smacking her lips together. "Much better."
The sound of someone entering the infirmary caused Madam Pomfrey to put the bottle back into its hiding spot. It certainly wouldn't be appropriate to have the school nurse be caught with that.
"Albus!" Poppy cried, recognizing the visitor. "Whatever are you doing here?"
"I actually had a question for you," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "Madam Hooch just bought me a new pair of earmuffs, and I was wondering what you thought of them?"
She coughed, as the drink went down badly. "Of your new earmuffs?" she inquired. "I'm sure that they're wonderful," she sputtered, sitting down on the chair. Grabbing a piece of parchment on the floor, she began to scribble a note to Madam Hooch, telling her not to pull a stunt like the last time again.
"Could you deliver this for me, Albus? It's rather important."
"Certainly Poppy," he replied, taking the note. Turning to leave, he called back over his shoulder, "And do lay off the Butterbeer Cold and Sinus Poppy. You'll make yourself sick."
She glared at him. "I have no intention whatsoever of ending up like that fourth year Leesie," she informed Albus stubbornly.
"Even still, I'd be careful. BDA does take people by force you know. You remember what happened to Ali…" Dumbledore's voice trailed off.
For that response, Poppy had no answer.
Short. Kinda Like House-Elves.
Professor Dumbledore was heading towards the Quidditch Field when he realized something. His stomach was growling. That must mean he was hungry! Taking a sharp right turn, he changed course so he was aiming to the kitchens. After tickling the pear, he entered. House-elves were everywhere. It didn't take very long for them to notice him. They quickly zoomed over to him, offering him every delight imaginable. But one then shooed all the others away. "Dobby will serve Professor Dumbledore," he informed the others. Turning back to Professor Dumbledore, he quickly inquired what the Professor could ever want. Numerous treats were sampled before the Headmaster decided on Spotted Dick. In fact, the Headmaster was so engrossed by his desert, that he didn't even realize that he had accidentally handed the letter to Dobby until he was halfway to the Quidditch Field.
In Giant Squids, Yes, Size Matters....
Dobby trotted out of the kitchens and, using a system of tunnels and secret entrances that would have made any number of Marauders salivate, headed out towards the Hogwart's lake. He had a ten-minute break, and he wanted to savor the letter that Dumbledore had so kindly given him.
To be sure, it was a little over the top, but Dumbledore was such a kind master that Dobby was willing to overlook the rather odd phrasing. So what if most employers didn't refer to their house-elves as a "light in a sea of bleak darkness" or "a pointy-eared dream." Dumbledore was merely being thoughtful.
Dobby settled down on a rock, and, holding the letter in one tiny hand, looked out at the sparkling dark waters. So pretty, he thought. Too bad Winky too tibbly from all that Buttebeer to come on a pinicky.
Dobby continued musing in a similar manner, listening to the gentle splash of water against the shore. He was so lost in his thoughts that he missed the ominous warning background music and the giant shadow that rose over him. Too late, Dobby looked up to see a tentacle of the Giant Squid looming above.
Dobby shrieked, and turned to run. But something impeded his flight-- the giant squid had wrapped one of its sucker-covered tentacles around one of his precious socks!!!
"Nuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" he screeched. "Not Dobby's sock!!" Enraged, the house- elf turned to fight the Evil Squid of Doom. However, Dobby had forgotten about the letter he still held in his hand. The squid, apparently more interested in literary matters than in fabrics, released hold of Dobby's sock, and ripped the parchment out of Dobby's hand.
Dobby scrambled backwards, clutching his sock and sobbing. In his blind panic to escape the squid's grasp, Dobby ran headfirst into something-- something black, and furry, and awfully big.
The dog growled and leaped forward, sinking his teeth into the squid's tentacle. Dobby watched, stunned, as the dog managed to wrestle the letter from the squid's grasp-- odd, since the dog obviously had to do this without hands. The squid struggled a bit longer, splashing water onto the dog in an attempt to bitch-slap it. The dog bit down harder, and the squid was taken aback, and slowly sank back into the murky waters.
The dog made a face-- as much as dogs are able to, anyway-- and spat on the ground. Dobby just sat and watched as the dog's shape elongated and shifted and became less hairy.
"Blergh," said Sirius. "I prefer my calamari cooked, thanks." He held the letter out to Dobby. "I believe this is yours?" he asked.
"Oh, no, s-s-sirs," said Dobby, stuttering. "Not much important. But Dobby thanks you, Dog Man, for getting rid of the squidy...."
"Ah, well," said Sirius-- er, Dog Man. "Wasn't much. But that squid is getting awfully aggressive. Someone should look into that...." He glanced down at the parchment he held-- it was blank. "Mind if I use this, Dobby?"
Dobby looked up at Sirius. A man that could change into a big, house-elf- eating sized dog wasn't someone to argue with. "It is yours, sirs, for whatever you like to do."
Sirius nodded absently and pulled out a quill and began to scratch out a few lines.
Remus—
The Giant Squid seems to be getting a little aggressive. Mind asking Hagrid to take a look at it? I'm afraid that it might become a danger to the students if left unattended.
Padfoot.
///?
A scratching on his office door alerted Remus to the presence of a visitor. I wonder whom that is, he thought. No matter, anything is better than grading papers. Remus opened the door, and grinned widely as he recognized his visitor. "Come in Padfoot," he said quietly.
The big black dog lumbered in. As soon as Remus closed the door, the dog transformed back into a sopping wet Sirius Black. Before Sirius had a chance to speak, Remus quickly cast a drying charm.
"Thank you Moony," Sirius rasped.
"Are you alright?" Remus inquired. "Here, sit down and I'll get you something to warm you up," he added, getting off of his seat.
Sirius shook his head. "As much as I'd like to, I can't stay very long. I want to check on Harry, and I need to talk to Dumbledore. I just came here to make sure that you're okay." He quickly pressed a piece of parchment into Remus' hands. "Read this, will you? It's important." Transforming back into Padfoot, he left the room.
Remus shook his head. "Typical Sirius," he muttered. Sitting down at his desk, he unfolded the parchment and read:
My dearest Moony,
I know that our time back together has been short, but I am no longer capable of keeping my feelings to myself. Perhaps my time in Azkaban has addled my thoughts, but as I have so few good memories left, I thought that together, we could make some new ones….
Always yours,
Padfoot
Remus slowly placed the letter down and reached for his quill. Quickly, he scribbled a note and folded the parchment up, a peculiar expression coming over his face.
2.7.1.1.1 Once a Marauder…
A soft knock on the door made Minerva look up from her book, and mutter in a slightly annoyed voice, "Come in."
A boyish face peeked through the door, "Are you busy?" he asked with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but still managed to iluminate his face, making him look young despite the numerous gray hairs.
"No, not at all." She responded with a smile, "Come on in, get comfortable"
He smiled again, and entered the room, "Thank you, but I was only here to give you this," he showed her the parchment, "the instructions for my next class," he smiled as he handed her the parchment. "I'll get going now."
"Then stay,' McGonagall cut him off. "You spend too much time alone in that office of yours."
He sat down and took a sip of the tea.
"Thank you, Professor," Lupin said, settling down in the armchair. "It's nice to be away from the students, occasionally." Professor McGonagall nodded, and readjusted the spectacles on her nose to read the message.
She blinked.
"Dearest Minerva~" she read in astonishment, "You must know how I feel. I sit here, half agony, half hope. I would have spoken before, but the delicacy of the situation but not be lost on one so bright as yourself. You, so lovely-- a beauty, in fact. And myself, a hideous beast...."
"Excuse me, Professor Lupin," she said coolly, glancing up from the ridiculous letter. "Is there something I should know?"
Professor Lupin looked bewildered. "Not that I can think of," he said. "I mean, the moon chart pretty well fixes it, doesn't it?"
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "I sincerely hope that we're not talking about the same thing, Professor," she said.
"We're talking about my lesson plan for the next full moon, right?" queried Remus.
McGonagall gave a dry chuckle. "You seem to be. I, however, would like to discuss this rather remarkable," she made a rusty sound that might have been a giggle, "love letter."
"A love letter." Remus stood up, and took the parchment from her.
Professor Lupin coughed violently.
"Are you all right, Remus?" asked McGonagall, concerned by Lupin's sudden inability to breathe.
"Fine...fine...but--" Remus shook his head and made a futile gesture towards the parchment he held.
"This is *not* what I wrote," he said desperately. "I mean, not that you're not lovely, Professor, but--"
McGonagall smiled. "I supposed as much."
Remus sank back into the chair and began to carefully examine the parchment. Offhand, he knew of about three-dozen ways in which writing could be manipulated. But why did this situation seem so familiar?
He didn't have to think back that far. The answer seemed to fairly jump out at him. Of course! The Map!
Obviously, this letter seemed to be based on the same principles he himself had used nearly 20 years before to create the Marauders Map. And as he was the expert on this sort of thing, he should be able to banish the illusion with just a few waves of his wand.
Quickly, he began working. Professor McGonagall on the other hand, was still a bit confused as to what was happening.
"Professor," she began. "Would you care to explain exactly what it is you're trying to accomplish?"
"If I'm right Professor," he said quietly. "You'll see in just one second."
Now, he thought. If I was trying to imitate the Marauders, what password
would I use?
The answer, of course, was obvious. Tapping the parchment with his wand, he spoke two words.
"Mischief Managed."
From the point where his wand touched the parchment, tiny lines began to spread out. The love letter vanished, and across the top of the letter, new writing began to form…
Mssrs. Weasley and Weasley are proud to present…
The Lovers Letter.
Underneath that huge heading were two columns. In one lay the original writings, and in the other were the transformations the map had forced it through.
Professor McGonagall was furious. The Weasley Twins mischief had gone too far this time! When she got her hands on them, they'd have detention for the rest of the year!
She stormed out of her office, intent on catching those responsible and making them pay. Remus on the other hand, sat there laughing. "Now why didn't we think of this?" he said to the walls, then turned to follow Professor McGonagall to the Great Hall.
2.7.1.1.2 All Together Now
McGonagall stormed into the Great Hall, her green robes flapping out behind her. The room went silent as she entered the room. Now, she thought, how to do this with the least amount of fuss? Ah-- perfect.
She cleared her throat, and held the parchment in front of her. "Accio Severus Snape! Accio Neville Longbottom! Accio Milicent Bulstrode! Accio..." The list continued. The Great Hall erupted into giggles and screams of protest as various students and faculty-- and even a large black dog and an elf-- went sailing through the air.
Having finally gathered everyone on the list, McGonagall took a look around the room and spotted two redheads creeping silently towards the door.
"Accio Fred Weasley! Accio George Weasley!" She flicked her wand with such vigor that the twins barreled forward so quickly that other students were forced to duck.
"Now," she said calmly to the confused and airsick crowd, "if you'll follow me, I think we all have something to discuss."
The entire crowd followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall. Pausing only long enough to tell the password of "Candied Butterbeer," to the stone gargoyle, she led the motley crew into the Headmaster's office.
"Minerva," Professor Dumbledore cried upon seeing them. "What might I ask, brings you here on this fine April Fool's Day?"
"I'm afraid, Headmaster, that Mssrs. Fred and George Weasley have been causing a bit of trouble," she began. "Again. This time, they created this document, in a flawed attempt to pull off the Biggest Prank Hogwarts has ever Seen. Not that anything, and certainly not this, will ever manage to top the Marauders final prank…." She paused suddenly. "As I was saying, these two boys are responsible for causing extraordinary amounts of chaos throughout the school."
"Well then, that explains their presence here. But why do you have all of these others here? Severus, Remus, surely you two know what is going on."
Professor Snape shook his head. "No I don't," he said angrily. "But I'm quite certain that Mr. Potter is partially responsible."
Harry jumped. "Me?" he gasped out. "I don't have a clue-"
"Harry," Professor Lupin broke in. "Allow me to explain."
Remus held up the piece of parchment. "Now, I believe that everyone present is familiar with this?" he said to the room in general. Nods from all around were his response, along with a few "What are you doing with that? Its mine?" "That's personal property Lupin, you'd better not have read it."
"It appears," he continued. "That this parchment was enchanted to transfigure everything written on it into a love letter. So, if we go about this rationally, we can easily figure out who really said what, and to whom they said it too."
Of course, as we all know, human beings are not the most rational of creatures. Soon, there was a mass stampede to grab the parchment. Chaos soon broke out.
If you happened to have simply figured out how to apparate into the Headmaster's office at this time, here is but a small sample of what you would have heard…
"What do you mean I'm not your elven princess?"
"Is that why she's been chasing me wearing those crazy pointed ears?"
"You thought, Severus, that I was in love with you?"
"Ronald Weasley! How dare you try to have me do your divination assignment for you! I'm going to tell Professor Trelawney!"
"Err…I guess I owe you an apology mate"
"Draco and Myrtle! Whoever came up with that was a Ginnyus!"
"Why Harry…."
But if you had managed to look at something other than the mass of bodies in the middle of the room, you might have spotted the very best result of the Lover's Letter, and one that would make Fred and George proud for years to come.
Ginny and Harry. In the corner. Snogging.
And if you had been able to make everyone else shut up, and listen only to Harry and Ginny, you would have listened to many lovely things, declarations of love, promises to be together forever, and even a heartfelt thank you to Fred and George.
But in the end, the many voices in the room made it impossible for anyone to realize the change that had come over Harry and Ginny, and it wasn't until McGonagall's voice finally broke through almost one hour after that, that they were spotted and quickly separated by a furious Professor McGonagall.
"The two of you," she screamed in the general direction of Fred and George, "are coming with me right now! We have to start planning how to balance your studies and detention EVERY DAY!"
Fred shook his head, "I don't think that *can* be done," he whispered to George.
"Oh yes, it can be done" Remus announced with a wink. "It's hard at first, but I am sure you'll manage. A lot of things can be learned in detention," he grinned and extended his hand, "Allow me to be the first one to say: Congratulations!" he looked around, making sure no one was close and then whispered "This it's almost as good at the map …almost" and with those words, a very amused Remus headed for the door.
"Well," George concluded, "Not only did we got Harry and Ginny together," and he pointed to the couple on question who had taken refuge in the corner again, McGonagall already forgotten "We also got congratulated by one of the original Marauders."
"I think we did a pretty good job." Fred finished for him.
"Yes, a very good job indeed"
Holy Smurfola, This Was a Long One...
However, not everyone was taking part in the madness in the Headmaster's office. The predator had spotted her prey, silently stalking it, ready to pounce. Ami pointed her wand at the Albino Smurf from around a corner.
She muttered "Flippendo!" and the Smurf was blown to bits. "YES!" Ami cried. "I've gotten rid of the Albino Smurf!!"
Imogen, Paula, Elle, Liz, Joyce, and Ali came running to see what the commotion was. "Ami!" Liz cried, "What did you do?"
"I blew up the Smurf!" Ami shouted happily, "Now it's out of my life forever!"
Suddenly, the Smurf-bits began to re-grow into full-grown Smurfs, until the whole corridor was swarming with them.
They started running around, chasing the girls in every direction. One chased after Paula, screaming "Penance! Penance! Penance!" Another ran after Imogen down the Charms corridor, yelling "Spring break! Gotten! Mommy! GRADUATION!!!"
A third ran after Liz and Joyce, yelling at the top of its lungs, "Chipper Jones sucks!! Yankees r00lz baseball!" The Smurf army left Elle alone, because she was the big sister and scary
Ami finally got rid of the Smurfs and got the song out of her head. She's now happily married to David Boreanaz, Smurf-free.
Paula did her penance, and Imogen finally started spouting Americanisms.
Ali was crowned Queen of the Smurfs, and still rules over them today as a benevolent monarch
The End!
Disclaimer-All HP related stuff belongs to J K Rowling. The Smurfs belong to some sick and twisted individual. Albino Smurf belongs to Elle. The inside jokes belong to the people in GT Chat, and PoV is taking credit for the creation of Sockie Hockey. Americanized Imogen belongs to Paula. Chipper Jones belongs to Liz. The fact that Paula and Imogen are Slytherins belong to PoV. The fact that Magoo ends up with David Boreanaz also belongs to PoV, and she thanks her for that. DD/MM belongs to Anne. We would also like to thank Amy SOOOOOO much for agreeing to beta this on about five minutes notice. Extra Points if anyone (besides Paula) catches the Beatles reference.
Dedication-The four members of OBHGF who wrote this fic (Ami, Ali, Liz and Joyce) would like to dedicate this fic to their missing elder (and biggest!) sister, Elle. We love you and miss you, and we REALLY wish that you could have been here to write this with us. ::hugs::
Ali's note- to the OBHGF- Ami, Liz, Elle, and Joyce. You girls are the most important people in all of GT to me, and some of the most important in my life. We worked hard and this thing is FINALLY done! I love you girls.
To my triplets Kitty and Maya-Thank you both for always being there for me, i love you both so much. You listen to my craziness and get crazy with me! Love you girls!
To Paula-for putting the Smurfs requirement in there, and for the "secret" requirement. You're my new hero!
To Imogen-For being such a good sport about the Americanisms
To the rest of the Queens-For creating GT, duh!
To the GTcafe regulars-For being as insane as you all are so I can have a place where I can be my normal, insane, butterbeer-and-smurf obsessed self. I love you all!
Ami's note-To OBHGF, I love you girls. You are the best (and only) sisters I've ever had. Elle, that goes to you too, even though you're not here!
To Paula-for taking down the Smurf stuff. But I'm not thanking you for putting it in there.
To Imogen-please don't kill us
To the Queens in General-for creating GT (even if you like torturing me for some odd reason…)
To GT-because you're giving me an excuse not to write my term paper
To Bovine-Moooooo
To Leesie and Yam-because we're meeting finally! WOOHOO!!!!
To my Rival-because we're rivals
To Amy-because you are a LIFESAVER!!!! (and we're sorry we didn't get the Harry/Giant Squid thing in there….)
I would also like to officially apologize for turning into the fic nazi. ::pauses:: But aren't you glad I did? I mean, we finished, didn't we? This was the WEIRDEST experience of my life…..and that is ALL I have to say on the subject.
Joyce's A/N: Honestly, I think I should keep this short, for I am weary and incoherent. I'd like to thank the Academy for-- aw. Dammit. ::finds the right speech:: Ah, here 'tis. Thanks, OBHGF-- you gals rock my world. Thanks to the wonderful GT community for providing hours and hours of procrastination possibilities. Thanks to the Queens, for being so gracious (please don't kill us, guys...we love you...) and hosting this partay. And now, I think I'll shut up. Thank you, and goodnight.
Liz's A/N: I can't believe we got it done in time. *looks around* Wow. Ooookay. To everyone at GT, for making it the best place to be.To all the members of OBHGF, you girls ROX. To Elle, the missing sister. *big hugs* This one is for you. Of course, to the Queens, for putting up with us. And to Carrie, just for coming back. I didn't even have to beg!
The Lovers Letter
1.2
1.3 A New Girl Comes to Hogwarts, pleez R&R
Imogen was nervous about her first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was a new American exchange student, and didn't know anything about the school. Luckily, another student named Paula had taken pity on her and was showing her the ropes of Hogwarts. "And over here we have the dungeons," Paula said. "Professor Snape is the Potions master. He has the tendency to be a bit ornery, but since he is our Head of House, he favors us. Don't worry about him too much."
Suddenly, a tawny owl swooped into the corridor to deliver Paula her mail. Paula took the package out of its talons, patted its head, and turned back to Imogen.
"Oh, that reminds me! Did you bring an animal? You're going to need one." Imogen nodded and held up a small cage. "I don't think you have these in Britain. My mom bought it for me upon my graduation from middle school. He's called a Smurf. His name is Handy. Do you want to see him?"
Paula took out the small Smurf and held him in her hand. "His name is Handy??" she giggled, "What's he handy for?" Paula giggled and Imogen playfully smacked her friend. The Smurf flew out of Paula's hand and tumbled to the floor. He looked at the two girls for a moment and then scampered off. Imogen smacked her forehead. "Oh no! We've got to go get him; my mom will kill me if I lose him!! She won't let me go to Cancun for spring break!" The two girls tore off into the dungeons after the fleeing Smurf.
1.4 Why is There Never a Smurf Handy When You Need One
Meanwhile, another pair of rogues was hard at work in Snape's classroom. Standing over a boiling cauldron, Fred read off the ingredients they needed as George added them in. "A cup of crushed beetle eyes, a pinch of powdered boomslang skin, half a cup of Prestolicious root. Stir continuously until the potion comes to a full boil. Then add the final ingredient. A Smurf."
"A Smurf??" George asked. "What in Merlin's beard is that?"
"I'm not sure," Fred replied, "but there's a picture. It's short and blue, with a white hat and TROUSERS!!!!!"
"SHH!" George hissed, "not so loud!" "
Sorry!" Fred said, "I don't know why but I just had the sudden urge to scream trousers."
"Well, anyway," George said, "Where in the name of all things Gryffindor are we going to get one of those?"
"I don't know," Fred snapped, "but we better find it soon, it's the most important part of the potion."
Suddenly, the pitter-pattering of tiny feet interrupted the boys' whispers. Handy Smurf rushed in, screaming, "Help me! Help me! Holy Smurfola, HELP ME!!" in his squeaky Smurf voice. The mischievous twins couldn't believe their luck. They looked at each other with an identical glint in their eyes. Fred turned to the tiny creature and said, "What's your name, little guy?"
"My name is Handy Smurf and I am on the run from the evil queen who captured me! She's got her tiara on full blast and I do NOT want to stick around for that!"
Fred and George looked at each other again. "Well," George said, "you can hide in our cauldron over there, see?" The grateful Smurf looked relieved and said "Thanks, fellas!" Handy scampered into the cauldron quick as a flash.
Somewhere off in Muggle London a low roar could be heard. A little boy asked his mother, "Was that thunder, Mum?"
"I don't know," she replied.
But it wasn't thunder; it was the explosion that emitted from the cauldron that completely rocked the entire castle. Two things emerged from the cauldron. First was a completely ordinary looking piece of parchment, with the words Mssrs. Weasley and Weasley are proud to Present faintly visible upon it. The other was the Smurf, now completely pure white and looking rather frazzled.
"Oh my God!! What have you done to me? I'm not blue anymore!!!" he squeaked. But he couldn't be heard over the twins' gales of laughter. "I guess we'll have to call you Albino Smurf now!" George gasped, tears rolling down his face from laughing so hard. The Smurf scampered off.
"We'd better get out of here, George, the teachers will be down here any second." The twins grabbed the parchment and cauldron and hightailed it out of there. As they watched from a safe distance in a broom closet, they saw Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore swoop into the empty classroom. "Man, this prank is going to rival the Marauder's Map!" Fred whispered. "We're going to be legends!"
"Shh!" George hissed, "I can't hear!" Snape looked fit to kill.
"If I ever find out who did this, I will personally see to it that that person is expelled."
"Relax, Severus," Dumbledore interjected, "It was probably just Peeves up to his usual hi-jinks again." And with that, the three teachers marched off. But little did they know that in a broom closet nearby, two mischievous Weasleys were planning the greatest April Fool's Day prank that Hogwarts had ever seen.
In Which Draco is Embarrassed and the Plot Begins
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall's voice pierced through the cheery breakfast ruckus.
Harry and Ron looked up to the head table at the sound of Malfoy's name to see Professor McGonagall standing up with a large package wrapped in brown paper. "I suppose it's too much to hope," whispered Ron, "that the git is about to be in trouble for mail fraud?"
Harry shrugged. "He doesn't look like he's in trouble," he remarked as Malfoy strode towards the Gryffindor table.
"Very astute, Potter," sneered Draco, apparently overhearing the speculations. "I imagine that some idiot of a house-elf forgot to write the directions clearly on my package of Turkish Delight-- my parents like to send me things like that, you know. Oh, wait," Draco said in a mock- sympathetic tone, "you couldn't know. Weasley's parents don't have enough money to send anything other than an empty envelope, and Potter hasn't got any parents to send him things at all. Pity." Malfoy gave a thin-lipped leer and continued on his way to the head table.
Harry glanced across the table, amazed that Ron had managed to get through another Weasley-taunting debacle without threatening bodily harm. He immediately understood why Ron had remained so silent-- Hermione had apparently discovered that if Ron's mouth were otherwise engaged, he couldn't get himself into trouble. "Ahem," Harry cleared his throat. Hermione pulled back, looking like the cat who had caught the rat-face unregistered Animagus. Ron glanced around, tugging at the neck of his robes and blushing horribly. "Well, Hermione," Harry smirked, "you found a good way to shut him up. Although you'll forgive me if I just continue to slap him upside the head."
"Shove it, Harry," mumbled Ron. "I would've gone after Malfoy, you know, but--" He broke off.
"But what?" Harry asked, grinning.
Ron just shook his head and pointed to the head table. "Will you get a look at that," he said in a reverent voice.
Professor McGonagall, for some reason or other, had requested that Malfoy open his package at the head table. Draco had torn into it eagerly, no doubt expecting to find a mountain of sugary-sweet confections, tossing packing material through the air. Apparently, he had also haphazardly tossed the box's contents out as well, and they were now hanging off the brim of Professor McGonagall's hat.
Harry watched the proceeding in a dreamlike state. This was too good to be true. The-- object-- dangling from McGonagall's hat seemed to be a tiny scrap of red fabric, with little bows that looked remarkably as though they were made from marzipan. McGonagall reached up, and delicately took the underwear between her thumb and her first finger, as though she were handling a bit of highly toxic material.
"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall sounded more than a little bit put out. "Is this your idea of a joke, young man?" Malfoy stood dumbstruck in front of the school, most of which was having a laugh at the Slytherin's expense. Draco's protests were lost in the growing roar of laughter, but Harry could see the Slytherin failing his arms and doing a remarkable impression of a fish out of water.
"Wonder whose they are?" Harry snickered to Ron, pointing to the lacy under-things McGonagall was waving about angrily.
"His, I'd wager," Ron laughed. "Don't you think that red strawberry edible underwear is his style?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure they're edible, Ron?" he asked, watching his friend grow ever more red-faced. "Moreover, why do you know what flavor they are?"
"Ron!" Hermione stood up from the table. "I think we'd best get off to the library, if I'm going to help you on that essay." Hermione's ears were suspiciously red, and Harry's eyes widened. You've got to be kidding me, Harry thought to himself, as Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall hurriedly. There are certain things that should remain secret, even between best friends. This happens to be one of them. Harry shook his head, and turned back to his breakfast.
***
At the head table, Minerva McGonagall was in a flutter. Having a pair of edible underwear hurled at you first thing in the morning wasn't the best way to start a day. She moved around in front of the table, picking up the packing material and shoving it angrily back into the box. She paused as she saw a blank piece of parchment lying beside the package. Odd. It must have been enclosed in the package Malfoy opened. In that case, it was probably a part of the prank, and should be treated with ample care.
1.5 The Best Laid Plans…
Minerva McGonagall sighed and stared at the offending piece of parchment with resentment. She had wasted an entire afternoon trying to figure out what it did, or who was responsible for it, but she had come up with nothing. The parchment apparently did nothing. It was just a blank parchment, nothing unusual about it.
But then, why had it been found alongside Mr. Malfoy's present? No. There was something else at work here, and they needed to find that out.
She looked around in her office, and as soon as the idea struck her, she decided to put it in practice. Thinking about things for too long was just a waste of time, she had always thought, and if they were going to find the ones responsible for this she needed to act quickly before they could get rid of all the evidence.
I swear, she whispered to herself. If those Weasley twins are responsible for this they are going to be in a permanent detention until they get out of here. And maybe even after that …
A couple of minutes later, she stood in front of the Snape's office. Severus could surely help. If this was written in invisible ink, or you needed a spell to make it work, or something like that …then it was better to let Severus deal with it. He had experience with things like this. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
"You better be in there Severus …" she warned as she knocked on the door once again, but once again she received no answer. She opened the door and took a couple of hesitant steps in only to discover that the room was empty.
I certainly don't have the time to wait around here, she told herself. Better to leave him a note.
She looked around for a blank piece of parchment, among his many papers, exams and essays but didn't find a thing. A single quill lay on top of his desk, but there was no parchment to be found. She stared at the blank parchment in her hand with distrust. Surely, it wouldn't be a problem if she …
She decided quickly, as was usual with her, and quill in hand she scrabbled a hasty note on a side of the parchment. Better not to write all over it. Satisfied with the result, she hastily retreated from the room, being very careful to lock the door on her way out.
On top of the desk, the note began a slow transformation, and the letters began to change slowly. The original message could still be read, but it wouldn't take long for it to vanish completely.
Severus,
We confiscated this from Mr. Malfoy just after lunch, but we still haven't been able to figure out who is responsible for the tasteless prank. I hope you can help us shed some light into the matter.
2 Minerva McGonagall
*******
Severus Snape barged into his office with a sour look on his face. Stupid Gryffindors. Only one of them could have sent that ridiculous thing to Mr. Malfoy, and all the events that followed the delivery of the present were, of course, not Draco's fault. It was all the Gryffindor's fault.
50 points. It had all cost them 50 points. And to make matters worse, that had dropped them from first place on the House Cup standings to third, and the Gryffindors were now on first place. Just wonderful.
He sat down and looked at his schedule, and the sour look almost vanished from his face when he noticed that his next class was with the 5th year Gryffindors. This could prove to be interesting after all, he thought as he looked through his things.
"This is it!" he exclaimed with satisfaction as he pulled an ancient looking book from one of the bottom drawers and opened it on the second page. "The spell," he said out loud and wrote a few things down before closing the book and settling back on his chair with a smile. "There's just no way they'll get it right"
He stood up and started pacing. He could get Potter to pair up with Longbottom. Things would be even more interesting that way. Maybe he could even drop Gryffindor out of place, if Longbottom screwed things over as he always did.
Things were definitely looking up.
He could just picture it. He would say three owls' eyes; he would hear four and things would go downhill from there. He grabbed the parchment to make a little not underneath it, but the words staring back at him where not the same ones he had written. There were no ingredients or preparation instructions. Instead, a love letter, little pink hearts all over it, was in his hands. A love letter from Minerva to him?
Falling back into his chair, he forced himself to look away. This is an illusion, he told himself. You are imagining things, but when he glanced back down the little pink hearts were still there. He stayed there, his mouth hanging open, while the bright letters glowed and the little pink hearts moved across the paper.
Seevie, it read:
I've been wanting to say this to you for such a long time, and I can hardly contain myself now that I've finally decided to let you know that you are the King of my secret desires. Dearest, I wish I could use Love Potion # 9 on you, to make you love me as much as I love you. The passion burning deep within me is so big it threatens to consume me if you don't feel the same way. Please, say you do love me …and we can be happy together from now on, making up for all the years apart. I know your deepest secrets and now you know my private desires. Let's steal Mr. Malfoy's strawberry underwear and make REAL use of it...we can make some magic together!
Minnie
The letter clutched tightly in his right hand, Severus Snape sat there, staring at the wall, an incredulous look on his face.
2.1.1.1.1 Love Potion Number Nine
The parchment enclosed firmly on his right hand, Severus Snape walked briskly towards the dungeons, with his greasy black hair sticking up in odd angles, and his black eyes looking around worriedly, but with the same sour expression he wore everyday.
Severus Snape wasn't in a good mood today.
Oh no! It was bad enough for his House to have lost 50 points thanks to that stupid, stupid prank on Mr. Malfoy this morning, now a love letter form McGonagall? Soon he would find out he was Neville's long-lost father. That was about all he needed to make this the worst day of his life.
But as soon as he thought of Longbottom, a crazy idea entered his brain and he had to fight back a grin. Maybe if he played his cards right he could still get out of this with his dignity intact.
Twenty minutes later, as he finished giving the 5th year Gryffindor and Slytherins the instructions for the day, he allowed himself to reach inside his robes, for the piece of parchment he had placed there as soon as he entered the dungeons. For a strange reason, he was glad to find it there.
2.2 Could it be that you enjoyed that love letter? A little voice inside of him asked, but he choose to ignore it and he had to fight back the urge to yell as he saw Longbottom mixing it all up the wrong way.
This was going to work better than he thought.
"Longbottom," he called and he was satisfied to see the boy almost jump up at the sound of his voice. "Get me the antidote from my desk, I think your potion needs to be tested."
Neville gulped and all the other Gryffindors took a step back. Hermione stood dangerously close to Neville's cauldron, trying to do something to help him out. But even she didn't notice when Snape silently slipped the parchment inside the cauldron.
A shaking Neville came back with the antidote, and he smiled sourly before warning everyone. "You better stay back, I don't think this is going to work." As he dropped a few drops into the potion.
Nothing happened.
Snape looked around the room. Neville was in shock and the rest of the Gryffindor House was staring at the cauldron with their mouths open, but Ms. Granger looked too satisfied with herself.
"50 points from Gryffindor," he growled at her "This is not a group assignment, Ms. Granger. He was supposed to do it alone. I can't believe you'd do that after last time …" he was interrupted by a very peculiar noise, coming from Neville's direction. He turned around to stare at Longbottom and he went cold for a minute. Longbottom was holding the now very wet, but still readable parchment in his hands, and he was laughing, so hard his knees were shaking and he had to lean into the table, to stop himself from falling to the floor.
"Mr. Longbottom," he managed to get out, "If you feel like laughing, I suggest you do it outside. And 40 points from Gryffindor!"
"Forty????" the whole Gryffindor House started to protest. All of them but Neville, who just quickly gathered his things and ran out of the dungeons, collapsing into the floor as soon as he reached the door, now unable to contain the laughter.
I'm Sorry, But Even *With* Prosthetic Ears....
Neville was barely able to stay upright as he left Professor Snape's classroom. That letter had been absolutely hysterical. He was so busy laughing that he couldn't even stand up straight. In fact, he was laughing so hard that he was crying.
As Neville wiped the tears out of his eyes, he didn't notice the imposing figure in front of him until it was too late.
"M-m-m-Millicent!" he stammered, dropping the letter. "What are you doing here?"
She ignored him and picked up the letter. Opening it, her eyes widened. She turned to stare at Neville, who was hunched up against the wall.
"Leave," she said. "Now."
Neville didn't have to be told twice. He just turned tail and ran.
As soon as Neville was out of sight, Millicent's whole demeanor changed. Staring at the letter, she near swooned. "Oh my dearest Neville," she began. "Why did you not tell me how much you cared, my love?" Millicent smiled, and held the letter close to read it again.
"My dearest Millicent," she read. "How do I love thee? No, I shall not count the ways, for then I shall never be able to stop. Your beauty is unparalleled. The only thing that your extraordinary beauty is lacking is a pair of sexy prosthetic elven ears, so that you can look like that sexay longhaired blond elf with wicked aim and a cool bow, Legolas. Then, you would be absolutely perfect, my sexy elven Princess. And until we meet again, my love, my thoughts will always be with you. Adieu, Your secret Admirer"
Millicent reached up to her ears, and fingered the tips. "You want an elven Princess, Neville, I'll give you an elven princess."
Due to her distraction, Millicent didn't even notice the cackling from the poltergeist behind her until it was too late.
"Peeves!" she cried in outrage. "You give that back!"
Millicent reached for her wand and tried in vain to hex him.
"Ha ha ha, you stinking Slytherin, you can't catch me!" Peeves taunted as he zoomed off with the letter, leaving Millicent all alone once again.
You Know, They Should Make Prozac for Ghosts....
Moaning Myrtle was miserable. Not that there was anything unusual about that. Moaning Myrtle was always miserable. But, she was extra miserable today. First, two little Hufflepuff girls had been in her bathroom almost all day! And then, a pair of older students had been in there snogging, right in front of her. To make matters worse, Myrtle had just gone to the Prefect's Bathroom in an attempt to have some sort of entertainment, and nothing was happening. Still sobbing, Myrtle just decided to go mope in a corner.
A cackle from behind her shocked Myrtle out of the corner. It was Peeves, that dreadful Poltergeist. "What do you want Peeves," she said coldly.
"Ickle little Myrtle has a secret admirer," Peeves howled. He produced a piece of parchment from behind his back. "Dear Myrtle," he read. "How do I love a ghost like you?" He paused. "HAHAHAHA!!!! Who would love a ghost like you?"
Myrtle felt the tears welling up inside her. No one loved her! She began sobbing uncontrollably. Reaching for the note, she lobbed it at Peeves, but narrowly missed and hit the figure that was entering the doorway, soaking him to the bone.
2.3 'Over My Dead Body' Just Seems *Wrong* Now
Draco stumbled outside the Prefect's Bathroom, still numb with shock. He knew that Moaning Myrtle was crazy, but this was a new high (or low as the case may be). What could possibly have possessed her to throw parchment at him, and then go flood the bathroom to the extent that he couldn't even enter? Why couldn't she go haunt her own toilet for a change? Not that he didn't appreciate the attention, but her stares did make things difficult to say the least.
A rather familiar yet extremely annoying voice superimposed itself on Draco's thoughts. Weasley. "What happened Draco? Your girlfriend dump you or something?"
"Considering that you're the one dating that Mudblood Weasley, I don't see why you should be saying anything about Pansy."
"Who said I was talking about her?" Ron handed Draco a sopping wet piece of parchment. The same parchment Myrtle had just thrown at him. Gulping, Draco opened it and read:
Darling Draco,
My love for you is consuming and it will last for eternity. Centuries from now, I will still be here, and I will still love you. I've wished for your death sooo many times, longing for you to be with me, that I've often thought about killing you myself. If I only could have a Draco for my un- life, I would be content. But I can't, and I have left to do is wait and pray that you'll love me back enough to join me in eternity. Dead Draco and Moaning Myrtle. That has such a nice ring to it, don't you agree? We could sail the ghost seas together for all eternity.
Myrtle
Draco stared at it for a good 5 minutes before yelling, "Me and …MYRTLE??? Some things are worse than death!" he exclaimed with conviction.
2.4 Divination Doldrums
Ron Weasley bowed his head and took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his frazzled nerves. He had always known this day would come, as surely as night follows day, as surely as Draco Malfoy was a ferret-faced git. But he had hoped that, perhaps, Fate would hold off on her demands for a while longer, and let him enjoy his youth.
But there was nothing for it. Some things had to be done, regardless of how unpleasant. Ron stood up from the couch, grabbed the notebook and parchment, and marched stiffly across the Common Room. Steady on, old boy, he told himself as he approached his target, just bite the bullet and do this.
Ron swore quietly under his breath, and steeled his resolve. "Lavender?" he croaked, tapping the giggling girl on the shoulder. She turned around and glared at him.
"What, Ron? Can't you see that I'm busy right now?" She gestured to the bridal magazines spread in front of herself and several other of the more vapid female members of Gryffindor. "Honestly," she said, rolling her eyes and turning back to her companions. "Now, Parvati, I think you'd look absolutely smashing in this one; look at the bodice with all those seed pearls-- " Ron gritted his teeth and tapped her on the shoulder again. "What is it, Ron?!?" she snapped, "I said I was busy!"
Ron swallowed back his pride, and something that tasted a good bit like bile. "Um, Lavender, I was wondering if--" He broke off. Dear God. I don't know if I can do this.
"If what, Ron?" Lavender turned all the way around, intrigued by the several shades of puce Ron had turned.
Oh, just do it, already. "I was wondering if you'd-- if you'd--" Ron gulped. "helpmewithDivinationplease."
Lavender stared for a moment. Then she smirked and said, "You actually want my help on Divination? You're not going to just flub it as usual? My, my, my. How the tables have turned." Ron seethed.
"Look," he said sharply, "it's just that I can't get another low mark in there. I still think it's a load of crap. But," and here Ron looked pained, "I just can't get the stupid star chart to make sense. It's all just a lot of bloody dots with funny names to me."
Lavender laughed. "Well, if you'd pay attention once in a while instead of making an arse of yourself-- Here, let's see what you've got." She grabbed the parchment from Ron's hands, and began to read over what he had written.
Her eyes widened, and Lavender erupted into a fit of giggles. "What?" asked Ron, bewildered. "I know that Venus shouldn't be in the same place as Mars, but I couldn't figure out any other place to put it...."
Lavender stood up. "It's very good, Ron," she said in a voice that was meant for toddlers, idiots, and fuzzy little kittens, "I'm just going to go fix a few things. But it's very good, for a first try. Would you like me to give it to her, after I'm done?"
Ron nodded, not quite sure why Lavender had just volunteered to do his homework for him, and to hand it in, but unwilling to question his good luck. "Well then," Lavender said, heading towards the dormitories, "I'd better get to work."
Parvati spoke up, after having been silent during the proceedings. "What," she asked, "was all that about? I've never seen her get maternal over a star chart before...."
Ron shook his head. "I have no idea," he said.
R + L = tru luuuuv...
Lavender was still giggling when she got into her dorm room. Who would have thought that Ron would have been able to write something so romantic? And if he was so good at this, why was he wasting his time on Hermione? Of course, it was probably a good thing that he had come to her, or Ron would be sure to make a fool out of himself.
Sitting down at the desk, she began to recopy everything, making changes as she went along.
My dearest,
I know that we have often fought, but throughout it all I have loved you more than anything else, except perhaps the Chudley Cannons. I know that I have messed up in my time, such as when I forgot Valentines Day, but at least I gave you a flower. Please my darling, you know that I love everything about you; from your bushy hair to the way you get all flustered when we're having an argument. I have never been more proud of you, than I was that time that you slapped Malfoy across the face and then walked out of Divination. Please my love; accept this as a mere token of how much I care for you.
Ron
Lavender nodded appreciatively. Ron hadn't done that bad of a job. However, this letter needed definitely needed a woman's touch.
My Beloved,
I love you more than life itself. Nothing, not even the Chudley Cannons compares to my feelings for you. The way your hair caresses your face, the way you can argue out of any situation, your intelligence. Nay, there is nothing about you that I do not find absolutely perfect. I have never been more proud of you than I was on that fabulous day when you put Draco Malfoy in his place once and for all. I know that I have been a brainless Git on many occasions, but now I hope that this more than makes up for it. Please my darling, forgive me. You have my heart.
Love,
Ron
Lavender took a parting glance at the letter. Yes, this was absolutely perfect, she thought, nodding approvingly. Hermione will definitely be swept off her feet at this one. This should more than make up for Ron's forgetting Valentines Day last month.
Folding the letter up, she waited for Hermione to come back into the dorm room. However, she wasn't a very patient person, so Parvati was quickly sent to catch the missing brainiac. Still giggling, Lavender managed to stuff the letter into Hermione's hands, before exiting into the common room. Hermione took one look at the letter in her hands, before she collapsed into her chair in shock. Grabbing a quill out of her bag, she quickly began to scribble a note to Harry.
Harry, please do me a favor. Can you read this and tell me if I need to commit Ron to St. Mungos? Or did he just overdose and Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster Butterbeer again?
~Hermione~
H/H is a Thing with Feathers....
Harry stared at the letter in disgust. Hermione couldn't be having these romantic thoughts about him, could she? He shook his head, refusing to believe it. No, there was just no way
There had to be an explanation for this letter, he thought as he stared at the piece of parchment in his hand. He took a deep breath and looked around, making sure no one was around, before turning his attention back to the bold pink letters on the parchment, and reading out loud again.
Dearest,
The first time I stared into your wonderful eyes, I fell in love with you. Ever since that moment, I've thought about you all day and dreamt about you all night. There's this ache inside of me that only your presence fills. And, I hope you don't mind...that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world, how you fill my life with joy, how you make me feel at last, like I matter to someone. I've dreamt about this moment for so long, and now that my dreams are so close to being realized I dream about being in your arms where I belong. Please tell me you feel the same.
2.4.1 Someone who loves you
Harry just continued to stare at the letter, a confused look on his face. He didn't understand a thing. If Hermione really felt this way about him, then why had she volunteered to help him with Ginny? And why, on God's name was she dating Ron?
It didn't make sense, he concluded and forced himself to stare back at the letter to look for clues. Five minutes later, he hadn't come up with anything more than a very strong urge to throw up.
Harry and Hermione.
That was just wrong. It was …more than wrong. It was sickening.
What was going on with Hermione? This couldn't be real. Yes, that was it, he was dreaming. A very bad dream.
He wanted to wake up soon.
Fifteen minutes went by, and Harry was still staring at the letter. One more second of it and he would have to head to the bathroom. He had had enough.
Then it hit him, with such force he couldn't believe he hadn't thought about it before.
He had asked Hermione for advice on how to tell Ginny he loved her. This was probably just the answer to that.
The relief he felt was so big, it was almost a physical blow. There was nothing going on with Hermione. She was just being a good friend and helping him out, and the best thing he could do to repay all she was doing for him was to follow her advice.
He grabbed a quill and started copying down the letter, word from word.
2.5 Sockie Ad Hockey
Ginny sighed again, and reread the last lines. Please tell me that you feel the same.
"Oh, Harry," she breathed quietly, and let herself drift off into a day- dream involving a towel, Quidditch, and Harry sprawled across the Common Room floor for approximately two months. It was one of her favorites. But just as she was contemplating getting Harry off the floor, and somewhere more (ahem) comfortable, her reverie was disturbed.
"BLOCKIE!!!!!!!!!!" Ginny looked up in time to see a blur dive in front of her chair.
"Colin Creevey," she said sounding too much like her mother, "what are you doing?!? You just left me with a most uncomfortable cliffhanger..."
Colin sat up, red-face but triumphant. "I blocked," he wheezed. The pink toe sock in his hand giggled and squirmed out of his grasp, running to the other side of the common room.
"I gathered as much," Ginny said dryly. "The question is, blocked what? A writer?"
Colin shook his head. "No, the Sockie." Ginny raised a ginger-colored eyebrow.
"The Sockie," she repeated slowly. "Ah. It's all so clear now." Colin sighed, and shook his head.
"You're saying you've never played?" he asked, incredulously. "It's so great. You've got a Keeper, a Defender, and a Scorer-- well, you can have more than one, obviously-- except for the Keeper... there's only one of those per team...that me, you see." Ginny nodded slowly, and wondered if Ami had started a support group for Sockie Hockey addicts yet.
"And then it's simple, really," Colin continued. "You just have to-- Hang on," he said.
"Let me get some parchment. It's easier if I just write out the commands...otherwise, everyone just keeps asking how you get the red writing to show up...."
Just to stop Colin's incessant babbling, Ginny handed him the parchment in her hand. "Thanks," he said, writing out a bunch of gibberish on the page.
"See?" he pointed to the page, "It's really quite simple. Just /me action." Ginny nodded, and turned the page upside down to see if it made more sense that way.
"I tell you what," Colin said excitedly, "How about you join us for the next game? We can always use another player."
Ginny started. "Oh, I don't know, Colin. I've never played before..." she protested.
"Oh, it's easy," he said, getting up to leave. "Just read over the rules, and feel free to join in."
"Join in on what, Colin?" Ginny turned to see Ron standing behind her.
"Oh, nothing," said Ginny. "Just a game he was telling me about." She handed Ron the list of commands and rules Colin had written down a moment before.
Ron glanced over the parchment. Phrases like, "gorgeous titian hair," "delicate turn of your swan-like neck," and a few choice ones utilizing the words "throbbing" and "pulsating" jumped out at Ron like Tigger on springs.
"Ron?" Ginny asked, looking at the stony expression on her brother's face. "Ron? What's the matter? Do you not like that game? I think it would be good exercise for me...."
Ron snorted. "CREEVEY!" he shouted at Colin's retreating figure. "You've got some nerve, mate...." Ron pulled his wand and muttered Maquillarsius! There was a blast of blue light.
"Don't ever write anything like that to my sister again, okay, Creevey? Otherwise I'll have to do more to reduce your capacity for reproduction. Got me?" Ron stormed off.
Ginny stood up from her armchair. "Oh...dear," she said, trying desperately not to giggle. "Colin," she gasped, "are you okay?!?"
"I...I...I think so," panted the floored Colin. "Although I must say, I don't know why your brother felt the need to Transfigure me into Tammy Fae Baker."
2.6 Exciting Chase Sequence!!!
As Colin walked towards the hospital wing, he was almost knocked over by a blur of a person. It was a red-headed 7th year running from the Albino Smurf, which was right on her heels. Behind the Smurf came four other girls chasing after them, laughing their heads off.
"Help! HEEEELP!" Ami screamed as she ran passed. "This evil misogynistic creature is after me! HELP!!!"
The four other girls chasing after them were Ami's sisters-Elle, Joyce, Liz, and her twin sister Ali. They chased after her, yelling, "Ha ha, Ami's afraid of a Smurf, ha ha ha ha ha!"
"Ami, it's not evil! Just catch it so I can use it for my latest butterbeer invention!" Ali yelled after her. The rest of the girls knocked Colin over as they dashed past. Dazed and confused, Colin got up, brushed himself off, and continued toward the hospital wing.
2.7 I Swear, It's for Medicinal Use Only
Madam Pomfrey looked almost in shock when Colin Creevey hobbled through the door. "Mr. Creevey!" she cried in horror. "What happened to you?"
Colin was unable to talk. He collapsed onto the bed next to Madame Pomfrey, dropping the piece of parchment from his clenched fist as he fell.
Poppy was absolutely horrified. What had they done to the poor boy? I know that the Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry was increasing, she thought. But this is completely out of control! Quickly, she went to work trying to undo the damage. Turning the poor boy into that, that, MONSTROSITY! It was horrific!
"What could have possessed Ronald Weasley to cause him to do something like that?" she asked out loud. "To a member of his own house anyway," she added as an afterthought.
There was no response, not that she had expected one as Colin had fallen asleep. Quickly, Madam Pomfrey placed a call to the Headmaster. As much as she liked the youngest Weasley boy, he had attacked poor Colin without provocation. This whole situation was giving her a headache. Glancing around, Madam Pomfrey ducked into her office. As soon as she realized the coast was clear, she reached into her desk for a little brown bottle she kept there for such emergencies. Taking a sip, she could feel the blood rushing back into her face.
"Ah," she said, smacking her lips together. "Much better."
The sound of someone entering the infirmary caused Madam Pomfrey to put the bottle back into its hiding spot. It certainly wouldn't be appropriate to have the school nurse be caught with that.
"Albus!" Poppy cried, recognizing the visitor. "Whatever are you doing here?"
"I actually had a question for you," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "Madam Hooch just bought me a new pair of earmuffs, and I was wondering what you thought of them?"
She coughed, as the drink went down badly. "Of your new earmuffs?" she inquired. "I'm sure that they're wonderful," she sputtered, sitting down on the chair. Grabbing a piece of parchment on the floor, she began to scribble a note to Madam Hooch, telling her not to pull a stunt like the last time again.
"Could you deliver this for me, Albus? It's rather important."
"Certainly Poppy," he replied, taking the note. Turning to leave, he called back over his shoulder, "And do lay off the Butterbeer Cold and Sinus Poppy. You'll make yourself sick."
She glared at him. "I have no intention whatsoever of ending up like that fourth year Leesie," she informed Albus stubbornly.
"Even still, I'd be careful. BDA does take people by force you know. You remember what happened to Ali…" Dumbledore's voice trailed off.
For that response, Poppy had no answer.
Short. Kinda Like House-Elves.
Professor Dumbledore was heading towards the Quidditch Field when he realized something. His stomach was growling. That must mean he was hungry! Taking a sharp right turn, he changed course so he was aiming to the kitchens. After tickling the pear, he entered. House-elves were everywhere. It didn't take very long for them to notice him. They quickly zoomed over to him, offering him every delight imaginable. But one then shooed all the others away. "Dobby will serve Professor Dumbledore," he informed the others. Turning back to Professor Dumbledore, he quickly inquired what the Professor could ever want. Numerous treats were sampled before the Headmaster decided on Spotted Dick. In fact, the Headmaster was so engrossed by his desert, that he didn't even realize that he had accidentally handed the letter to Dobby until he was halfway to the Quidditch Field.
In Giant Squids, Yes, Size Matters....
Dobby trotted out of the kitchens and, using a system of tunnels and secret entrances that would have made any number of Marauders salivate, headed out towards the Hogwart's lake. He had a ten-minute break, and he wanted to savor the letter that Dumbledore had so kindly given him.
To be sure, it was a little over the top, but Dumbledore was such a kind master that Dobby was willing to overlook the rather odd phrasing. So what if most employers didn't refer to their house-elves as a "light in a sea of bleak darkness" or "a pointy-eared dream." Dumbledore was merely being thoughtful.
Dobby settled down on a rock, and, holding the letter in one tiny hand, looked out at the sparkling dark waters. So pretty, he thought. Too bad Winky too tibbly from all that Buttebeer to come on a pinicky.
Dobby continued musing in a similar manner, listening to the gentle splash of water against the shore. He was so lost in his thoughts that he missed the ominous warning background music and the giant shadow that rose over him. Too late, Dobby looked up to see a tentacle of the Giant Squid looming above.
Dobby shrieked, and turned to run. But something impeded his flight-- the giant squid had wrapped one of its sucker-covered tentacles around one of his precious socks!!!
"Nuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" he screeched. "Not Dobby's sock!!" Enraged, the house- elf turned to fight the Evil Squid of Doom. However, Dobby had forgotten about the letter he still held in his hand. The squid, apparently more interested in literary matters than in fabrics, released hold of Dobby's sock, and ripped the parchment out of Dobby's hand.
Dobby scrambled backwards, clutching his sock and sobbing. In his blind panic to escape the squid's grasp, Dobby ran headfirst into something-- something black, and furry, and awfully big.
The dog growled and leaped forward, sinking his teeth into the squid's tentacle. Dobby watched, stunned, as the dog managed to wrestle the letter from the squid's grasp-- odd, since the dog obviously had to do this without hands. The squid struggled a bit longer, splashing water onto the dog in an attempt to bitch-slap it. The dog bit down harder, and the squid was taken aback, and slowly sank back into the murky waters.
The dog made a face-- as much as dogs are able to, anyway-- and spat on the ground. Dobby just sat and watched as the dog's shape elongated and shifted and became less hairy.
"Blergh," said Sirius. "I prefer my calamari cooked, thanks." He held the letter out to Dobby. "I believe this is yours?" he asked.
"Oh, no, s-s-sirs," said Dobby, stuttering. "Not much important. But Dobby thanks you, Dog Man, for getting rid of the squidy...."
"Ah, well," said Sirius-- er, Dog Man. "Wasn't much. But that squid is getting awfully aggressive. Someone should look into that...." He glanced down at the parchment he held-- it was blank. "Mind if I use this, Dobby?"
Dobby looked up at Sirius. A man that could change into a big, house-elf- eating sized dog wasn't someone to argue with. "It is yours, sirs, for whatever you like to do."
Sirius nodded absently and pulled out a quill and began to scratch out a few lines.
Remus—
The Giant Squid seems to be getting a little aggressive. Mind asking Hagrid to take a look at it? I'm afraid that it might become a danger to the students if left unattended.
Padfoot.
///?
A scratching on his office door alerted Remus to the presence of a visitor. I wonder whom that is, he thought. No matter, anything is better than grading papers. Remus opened the door, and grinned widely as he recognized his visitor. "Come in Padfoot," he said quietly.
The big black dog lumbered in. As soon as Remus closed the door, the dog transformed back into a sopping wet Sirius Black. Before Sirius had a chance to speak, Remus quickly cast a drying charm.
"Thank you Moony," Sirius rasped.
"Are you alright?" Remus inquired. "Here, sit down and I'll get you something to warm you up," he added, getting off of his seat.
Sirius shook his head. "As much as I'd like to, I can't stay very long. I want to check on Harry, and I need to talk to Dumbledore. I just came here to make sure that you're okay." He quickly pressed a piece of parchment into Remus' hands. "Read this, will you? It's important." Transforming back into Padfoot, he left the room.
Remus shook his head. "Typical Sirius," he muttered. Sitting down at his desk, he unfolded the parchment and read:
My dearest Moony,
I know that our time back together has been short, but I am no longer capable of keeping my feelings to myself. Perhaps my time in Azkaban has addled my thoughts, but as I have so few good memories left, I thought that together, we could make some new ones….
Always yours,
Padfoot
Remus slowly placed the letter down and reached for his quill. Quickly, he scribbled a note and folded the parchment up, a peculiar expression coming over his face.
2.7.1.1.1 Once a Marauder…
A soft knock on the door made Minerva look up from her book, and mutter in a slightly annoyed voice, "Come in."
A boyish face peeked through the door, "Are you busy?" he asked with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but still managed to iluminate his face, making him look young despite the numerous gray hairs.
"No, not at all." She responded with a smile, "Come on in, get comfortable"
He smiled again, and entered the room, "Thank you, but I was only here to give you this," he showed her the parchment, "the instructions for my next class," he smiled as he handed her the parchment. "I'll get going now."
"Then stay,' McGonagall cut him off. "You spend too much time alone in that office of yours."
He sat down and took a sip of the tea.
"Thank you, Professor," Lupin said, settling down in the armchair. "It's nice to be away from the students, occasionally." Professor McGonagall nodded, and readjusted the spectacles on her nose to read the message.
She blinked.
"Dearest Minerva~" she read in astonishment, "You must know how I feel. I sit here, half agony, half hope. I would have spoken before, but the delicacy of the situation but not be lost on one so bright as yourself. You, so lovely-- a beauty, in fact. And myself, a hideous beast...."
"Excuse me, Professor Lupin," she said coolly, glancing up from the ridiculous letter. "Is there something I should know?"
Professor Lupin looked bewildered. "Not that I can think of," he said. "I mean, the moon chart pretty well fixes it, doesn't it?"
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "I sincerely hope that we're not talking about the same thing, Professor," she said.
"We're talking about my lesson plan for the next full moon, right?" queried Remus.
McGonagall gave a dry chuckle. "You seem to be. I, however, would like to discuss this rather remarkable," she made a rusty sound that might have been a giggle, "love letter."
"A love letter." Remus stood up, and took the parchment from her.
Professor Lupin coughed violently.
"Are you all right, Remus?" asked McGonagall, concerned by Lupin's sudden inability to breathe.
"Fine...fine...but--" Remus shook his head and made a futile gesture towards the parchment he held.
"This is *not* what I wrote," he said desperately. "I mean, not that you're not lovely, Professor, but--"
McGonagall smiled. "I supposed as much."
Remus sank back into the chair and began to carefully examine the parchment. Offhand, he knew of about three-dozen ways in which writing could be manipulated. But why did this situation seem so familiar?
He didn't have to think back that far. The answer seemed to fairly jump out at him. Of course! The Map!
Obviously, this letter seemed to be based on the same principles he himself had used nearly 20 years before to create the Marauders Map. And as he was the expert on this sort of thing, he should be able to banish the illusion with just a few waves of his wand.
Quickly, he began working. Professor McGonagall on the other hand, was still a bit confused as to what was happening.
"Professor," she began. "Would you care to explain exactly what it is you're trying to accomplish?"
"If I'm right Professor," he said quietly. "You'll see in just one second."
Now, he thought. If I was trying to imitate the Marauders, what password
would I use?
The answer, of course, was obvious. Tapping the parchment with his wand, he spoke two words.
"Mischief Managed."
From the point where his wand touched the parchment, tiny lines began to spread out. The love letter vanished, and across the top of the letter, new writing began to form…
Mssrs. Weasley and Weasley are proud to present…
The Lovers Letter.
Underneath that huge heading were two columns. In one lay the original writings, and in the other were the transformations the map had forced it through.
Professor McGonagall was furious. The Weasley Twins mischief had gone too far this time! When she got her hands on them, they'd have detention for the rest of the year!
She stormed out of her office, intent on catching those responsible and making them pay. Remus on the other hand, sat there laughing. "Now why didn't we think of this?" he said to the walls, then turned to follow Professor McGonagall to the Great Hall.
2.7.1.1.2 All Together Now
McGonagall stormed into the Great Hall, her green robes flapping out behind her. The room went silent as she entered the room. Now, she thought, how to do this with the least amount of fuss? Ah-- perfect.
She cleared her throat, and held the parchment in front of her. "Accio Severus Snape! Accio Neville Longbottom! Accio Milicent Bulstrode! Accio..." The list continued. The Great Hall erupted into giggles and screams of protest as various students and faculty-- and even a large black dog and an elf-- went sailing through the air.
Having finally gathered everyone on the list, McGonagall took a look around the room and spotted two redheads creeping silently towards the door.
"Accio Fred Weasley! Accio George Weasley!" She flicked her wand with such vigor that the twins barreled forward so quickly that other students were forced to duck.
"Now," she said calmly to the confused and airsick crowd, "if you'll follow me, I think we all have something to discuss."
The entire crowd followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall. Pausing only long enough to tell the password of "Candied Butterbeer," to the stone gargoyle, she led the motley crew into the Headmaster's office.
"Minerva," Professor Dumbledore cried upon seeing them. "What might I ask, brings you here on this fine April Fool's Day?"
"I'm afraid, Headmaster, that Mssrs. Fred and George Weasley have been causing a bit of trouble," she began. "Again. This time, they created this document, in a flawed attempt to pull off the Biggest Prank Hogwarts has ever Seen. Not that anything, and certainly not this, will ever manage to top the Marauders final prank…." She paused suddenly. "As I was saying, these two boys are responsible for causing extraordinary amounts of chaos throughout the school."
"Well then, that explains their presence here. But why do you have all of these others here? Severus, Remus, surely you two know what is going on."
Professor Snape shook his head. "No I don't," he said angrily. "But I'm quite certain that Mr. Potter is partially responsible."
Harry jumped. "Me?" he gasped out. "I don't have a clue-"
"Harry," Professor Lupin broke in. "Allow me to explain."
Remus held up the piece of parchment. "Now, I believe that everyone present is familiar with this?" he said to the room in general. Nods from all around were his response, along with a few "What are you doing with that? Its mine?" "That's personal property Lupin, you'd better not have read it."
"It appears," he continued. "That this parchment was enchanted to transfigure everything written on it into a love letter. So, if we go about this rationally, we can easily figure out who really said what, and to whom they said it too."
Of course, as we all know, human beings are not the most rational of creatures. Soon, there was a mass stampede to grab the parchment. Chaos soon broke out.
If you happened to have simply figured out how to apparate into the Headmaster's office at this time, here is but a small sample of what you would have heard…
"What do you mean I'm not your elven princess?"
"Is that why she's been chasing me wearing those crazy pointed ears?"
"You thought, Severus, that I was in love with you?"
"Ronald Weasley! How dare you try to have me do your divination assignment for you! I'm going to tell Professor Trelawney!"
"Err…I guess I owe you an apology mate"
"Draco and Myrtle! Whoever came up with that was a Ginnyus!"
"Why Harry…."
But if you had managed to look at something other than the mass of bodies in the middle of the room, you might have spotted the very best result of the Lover's Letter, and one that would make Fred and George proud for years to come.
Ginny and Harry. In the corner. Snogging.
And if you had been able to make everyone else shut up, and listen only to Harry and Ginny, you would have listened to many lovely things, declarations of love, promises to be together forever, and even a heartfelt thank you to Fred and George.
But in the end, the many voices in the room made it impossible for anyone to realize the change that had come over Harry and Ginny, and it wasn't until McGonagall's voice finally broke through almost one hour after that, that they were spotted and quickly separated by a furious Professor McGonagall.
"The two of you," she screamed in the general direction of Fred and George, "are coming with me right now! We have to start planning how to balance your studies and detention EVERY DAY!"
Fred shook his head, "I don't think that *can* be done," he whispered to George.
"Oh yes, it can be done" Remus announced with a wink. "It's hard at first, but I am sure you'll manage. A lot of things can be learned in detention," he grinned and extended his hand, "Allow me to be the first one to say: Congratulations!" he looked around, making sure no one was close and then whispered "This it's almost as good at the map …almost" and with those words, a very amused Remus headed for the door.
"Well," George concluded, "Not only did we got Harry and Ginny together," and he pointed to the couple on question who had taken refuge in the corner again, McGonagall already forgotten "We also got congratulated by one of the original Marauders."
"I think we did a pretty good job." Fred finished for him.
"Yes, a very good job indeed"
Holy Smurfola, This Was a Long One...
However, not everyone was taking part in the madness in the Headmaster's office. The predator had spotted her prey, silently stalking it, ready to pounce. Ami pointed her wand at the Albino Smurf from around a corner.
She muttered "Flippendo!" and the Smurf was blown to bits. "YES!" Ami cried. "I've gotten rid of the Albino Smurf!!"
Imogen, Paula, Elle, Liz, Joyce, and Ali came running to see what the commotion was. "Ami!" Liz cried, "What did you do?"
"I blew up the Smurf!" Ami shouted happily, "Now it's out of my life forever!"
Suddenly, the Smurf-bits began to re-grow into full-grown Smurfs, until the whole corridor was swarming with them.
They started running around, chasing the girls in every direction. One chased after Paula, screaming "Penance! Penance! Penance!" Another ran after Imogen down the Charms corridor, yelling "Spring break! Gotten! Mommy! GRADUATION!!!"
A third ran after Liz and Joyce, yelling at the top of its lungs, "Chipper Jones sucks!! Yankees r00lz baseball!" The Smurf army left Elle alone, because she was the big sister and scary
Ami finally got rid of the Smurfs and got the song out of her head. She's now happily married to David Boreanaz, Smurf-free.
Paula did her penance, and Imogen finally started spouting Americanisms.
Ali was crowned Queen of the Smurfs, and still rules over them today as a benevolent monarch
The End!
Disclaimer-All HP related stuff belongs to J K Rowling. The Smurfs belong to some sick and twisted individual. Albino Smurf belongs to Elle. The inside jokes belong to the people in GT Chat, and PoV is taking credit for the creation of Sockie Hockey. Americanized Imogen belongs to Paula. Chipper Jones belongs to Liz. The fact that Paula and Imogen are Slytherins belong to PoV. The fact that Magoo ends up with David Boreanaz also belongs to PoV, and she thanks her for that. DD/MM belongs to Anne. We would also like to thank Amy SOOOOOO much for agreeing to beta this on about five minutes notice. Extra Points if anyone (besides Paula) catches the Beatles reference.
Dedication-The four members of OBHGF who wrote this fic (Ami, Ali, Liz and Joyce) would like to dedicate this fic to their missing elder (and biggest!) sister, Elle. We love you and miss you, and we REALLY wish that you could have been here to write this with us. ::hugs::
Ali's note- to the OBHGF- Ami, Liz, Elle, and Joyce. You girls are the most important people in all of GT to me, and some of the most important in my life. We worked hard and this thing is FINALLY done! I love you girls.
To my triplets Kitty and Maya-Thank you both for always being there for me, i love you both so much. You listen to my craziness and get crazy with me! Love you girls!
To Paula-for putting the Smurfs requirement in there, and for the "secret" requirement. You're my new hero!
To Imogen-For being such a good sport about the Americanisms
To the rest of the Queens-For creating GT, duh!
To the GTcafe regulars-For being as insane as you all are so I can have a place where I can be my normal, insane, butterbeer-and-smurf obsessed self. I love you all!
Ami's note-To OBHGF, I love you girls. You are the best (and only) sisters I've ever had. Elle, that goes to you too, even though you're not here!
To Paula-for taking down the Smurf stuff. But I'm not thanking you for putting it in there.
To Imogen-please don't kill us
To the Queens in General-for creating GT (even if you like torturing me for some odd reason…)
To GT-because you're giving me an excuse not to write my term paper
To Bovine-Moooooo
To Leesie and Yam-because we're meeting finally! WOOHOO!!!!
To my Rival-because we're rivals
To Amy-because you are a LIFESAVER!!!! (and we're sorry we didn't get the Harry/Giant Squid thing in there….)
I would also like to officially apologize for turning into the fic nazi. ::pauses:: But aren't you glad I did? I mean, we finished, didn't we? This was the WEIRDEST experience of my life…..and that is ALL I have to say on the subject.
Joyce's A/N: Honestly, I think I should keep this short, for I am weary and incoherent. I'd like to thank the Academy for-- aw. Dammit. ::finds the right speech:: Ah, here 'tis. Thanks, OBHGF-- you gals rock my world. Thanks to the wonderful GT community for providing hours and hours of procrastination possibilities. Thanks to the Queens, for being so gracious (please don't kill us, guys...we love you...) and hosting this partay. And now, I think I'll shut up. Thank you, and goodnight.
Liz's A/N: I can't believe we got it done in time. *looks around* Wow. Ooookay. To everyone at GT, for making it the best place to be.To all the members of OBHGF, you girls ROX. To Elle, the missing sister. *big hugs* This one is for you. Of course, to the Queens, for putting up with us. And to Carrie, just for coming back. I didn't even have to beg!