1 Chapter 22 A Plan to Go On & A Few Laughs Along the Way
AN: Hope you like Monty python! Enjoy and please review!
Due to the fact that they were prefects and friends of nearly everyone in the entire school and regarded as the supportive backbone of the school no one thought anything amiss when Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't show up until lunch, at which point Ron came downstairs to get lunch for the five of them. The other Gryffindors, as a sign of support for their fellows went to their common room for a huge group lunch. Late that evening Harry and Hermione went to the prefects & staff meeting, leaving Ron with the two girls.
"Harry what is happening with the twins? Are they okay? Their father would like them to come home for a few days if it would help them." Dumbledore said, Harry couldn't restrain a huge yawn that elicited grins from everyone before answering.
"They're about as tired as I am, cried for most of the morning, stopped long enough to ask a few questions of what was going on, school work, what would happen to their brother, and about the death eaters. I answered them as best I could, poor things are more cut up over their friend than brother, apparently there was never any love lost between them."
"Alright, I'd like to talk to them tomorrow evening if they're up to it."
"Okay, what is happening to that sonofa *****?" There were a few gasps around the room at this and the teachers scowled.
"He's been taken to court, not that much of a trial is needed." Dumbledore said, he lowered the blocking spell momentarily and Harry heard him clearly.
You won't have to testify so don't worry. He admitted to it. "The girl was sent home for burial, there'll be a funeral in two days here and here. The twins will be able to choose which they will attend."
"We have other maters to discuss." Harry said with a displeased frown. "Voldemort got one supporter, though he was a transfer from…Durmstrang I think? Either way his school was attacked at some point, or he saw an attack, and one of his friends was killed. He may have been impressed with Voldemort's power and decided to join because of it. Not that Voldemort has much power lately, but it's coming back. Worse luck for us. Prof. Snape what is, or was, the youngest age at which a person could join the death eaters?" Snape flinched but answered.
"Twenty originally, but as those over twenty got smarter, or scarcer as they joined the Order or put up a good fight, inspiration from you Harry, most prisoners make a practice of spitting in his face…as my wife heard it last. But he will always attract some, the weak, the cowardly, the confused, the angry, the insane. The age is now probably anyone above fourteen." This caused gasps of horror, Harry betrayed none of his thoughts and looked impassive.
"This must be counteracted, but what should we do?" McGonagal said in horror, Harry took his cue from her words as if it had been planned, his voice exploding across the suddenly silent room, speaking as the words formed in his mind and putting all the force he could into them.
"This is a school! What should we do? What should come naturally? Teach! Educate them! Teach them what is happening, educate every student on what is really happening! This is a school, teach them the dangers of being a death eater, the pain and fear, and they will turn away. Tell them the tortures death eaters go through, the conditions they live under, the acts they commit, give them the horrid details, it will only strengthen them. They trust you and are accustomed to learning here, they trust you to teach them, not just magic but what to do and what not to do, they expect to learn, so let them learn! " Everyone burst into applause and finally died out, Dumbledore was beaming at Harry with respect and delight.
"Harry that is perfect. There's to be a meeting of the directors and staff of all the magic teaching schools this Friday, two prefects from each school will be allowed to attend, I would like you to come and tell everyone your idea."
"I would be honored headmaster." Harry replied calmly and simply, completely at odds with his persuasive, exuberant, aggressive, convincing speech a few seconds before. To his surprise everyone was smiling at him, even Snape.
**
Harry did very little to prepare for the meeting. He had it all worked out and so could turn his attention to school, quidditch, the Elementals, and Voldemort. Of the Elementals there was a growing readiness to fight and kill, he got angry easily and began to fight with unusual power and strength. He no longer fought with his friends, too afraid he would hurt them, he fought only with the fake person he had made, and fought at a level that was utterly unmatchable by anything he'd done before. His friends commented that they couldn't see his sword anymore, and that, like a true Lightdancer, as he fought the light flashed off his blade until he seemed to slice the very air apart and send its colors swirling about him. He was a part of the light, a deadly part, yet a beautiful magical part.
He could find no information about the Elementals, which was surprising since their last attack had been only five hundred years ago. But nothing existed because the wizards weren't privy to any information about it. Harry's fear was still there, but now it poured energy into him and power, as people in the halls remarked to him he "positively radiated power to all around him like the sun did energy." Or "his presence was utterly un- ignorable just because of the sheer amount of personality and power into everyone's mind." His friends commented that, contrary to the fighting instincts of a Royal Aaron that was raging inside he seemed to glow with calm power, but all could sense danger and Harry found that everyone looked to him in awe when it was announced that he and Hermione would be going to the meeting. But it was not all power and calm for Harry, his senses had gone on ultra alert mode and he was hard put to keep back the power and to stop himself from transforming, resisting the urge to fight constantly or to meditate to a point where he was in a self-induced coma.
Of Voldemort there was news, bad news. He was recovering rapidly and so was his apprentice. He were gathering their followers about him, recruiting others ot continue terrorist activities everywhere to keep the Order busy. "Run ragged," was what Sirius called it, vampires, trolls, mesmerds, death eaters, a few Spidren and some snakes were with him and aiding him. Abroad vampires and river trolls (the smartest kind), all with the dark mark, were fighting for him. Seven dead in two days and twenty injured, ten left homeless, one Order member dead, two inured. Harry tried and tried to help, going on any patrol he was allowed on, sending his snakes about, trying to See anything of use in fires, and he tired. But he knew his efforts made a difference and were very much appreciated. He even told a reporter that the Order was a little tired but ready for action. He also gave out the news of Voldemort's apprentice to everyone when Sirius asked him to.
Quidditch was going well, Harry spent two hours a day flying, flying standing on his broom, whirling and twisting like a snowboarder in the air or a gymnast in stunning maneuvers that left an ever growing crowd breathless. Flying calmed him and he only truly felt free in the air.
"You fly so much, what do you get out of it? What happens to you that makes you enjoy it so much?" A new sixth year of Ravenclaw named Danielle asked him once.
"It lets my mind free and lets my spirit loose to soar, I am only truly free when in flight." He answered as he landed lightly, sad to be back on the ground, but it was time for class. In the next quidditch match, Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, Slytherin flattened Ravenclaw, unsure of whom to support the Marauders surprised their friend and came with green scarves and hats but sat near the Ravenclaw section. This left only the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw and Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff, and then the Quidditch cup, Gryffindor was definitely in, and either Hufflepuff or Slytherin.
Late on Friday afternoon Harry, Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape, Sprout, Figg, and the Purple patrol took a portkey to the meeting. They'd be back on Sunday evening.
The meeting was in a huge building in America, in here was where the Ministries had their world-wide meetings, Warlocks conventions, and other such things. An aide led them down a pale green marble hallway, through a redwood door, and into a large lounge/gathering room. Couches and chairs sat around coffee tables, the carpet was deep red, tan, gold, and green, as were the couches. Each of them had their own room coming off the gathering room. Harry went into his; everything was light gray, deep green, white, and gold. There was a big four-poster bed and a wide window. A dresser with a mirror on it and a small table. Since he had two hours until the dinner banquet he did his homework and had a game of chess with Hermione while the professors watched on and laughed at their threats of pranks and counter threats and comments. Harry won, but not by much. Everyone seemed very relaxed, then the bell rang and everyone went to get dressed for the banquet.
Harry glared venomously at the clothes he had to wear. Very elaborate dress robes, fit for a king. They were in deep green but he changed them to black, he left the gold ribbon, and embroidery alone. They weren't even really robes he thought; he and Hermione were wearing what appeared to be a version of their Marauder clothes. Black pants, not leather, with the fringe down the sides and the gold bead. Gold around the tops of black boots and gold beads on the boots like a lightning bolt. Black shirt with fringe and gold bead, black vest with fringe in a V, gold bead and all. Cape attached at each shoulder with a clasp upon which was the Hogwarts crest carved into the gold with colored filigree. The cape was black with a gold underside and gold fringe along the bottom edge. The sleeves of the shirt were huge at the cuff, the opening long and hanging, thrice as large as his wrist with gold around the edge. From the black and gold belt with its gold lightning bolt buckle he hung his gauntlets, black and his gold lightning bolt with the hidden knife inside, flattened, it would spring up straight and ready to cut when he flicked his hand just right. He loosely tied his hair back with a black strip of leather and put in his single earring, a tiny gold ring with a gold lightning bolt carved on it in his left ear. He removed the hidden knives and discs from his boots and sleeves; it wouldn't do for him to go armed. He hid his wand up his sleeve and unattached the poisoned spikes on the heels of his boots and took the poison dart off the gold chain around his neck. He glanced in the mirror, his scar was a slightly pale gold and barely visible, hopefully it would stay that way.
When he emerged most of the others were ready and waiting for only Prof. Sprout, his clothes raised a few eyebrows.
"I thought you liked dark green." Dumbledore said in surprise, Harry frowned and glanced at him, he didn't look disapproving.
"I like black better."
"You did leave your…weapons…in your room didn't you?"
"Yes sir, not that anyone would be able to tell I had them anyway."
"Did you two put anything we should know about in the food?" This from a suspicious Professor Snape.
"We should have, but we didn't, ahh, what a missed opportunity to show our skill huh Herm?"
"Harry! You wouldn't dream of it."
"Oh? And how would you know that pray? A most entertaining dream it was too, I've still got plenty of time."
"Harry please."
"Yes professor?"
"J-just don't will you?"
"Would that depend who I play the prank on?"
"No, just don't."
"You ruin my fun professor, everyone needs a few good laughs."
"Not now Harry."
"Not even to the other prefect here?"
"That's no way to make friends."
"Worked before."
"And never again."
"Maybe a play then? We've got a few done, harmless ones."
"Opposed to the not-so-harmless?"
"Opposed to the ones in which the professors are humiliated, you'll be seeing a few of those soon, but not now."
"Harry really, what good could that possibly serve?"
"What better way to relax people then to provide entertainment and a few laughs? What was the term used in the letter? Inter-school relationship building? Wouldn't everyone just love it if Hogwarts were to provide entertainment?"
"With you doing it this might end up as a contest between prefects to see who can be the most entertaining."
"Would that be bad?"
"Not everyone has your…control…it might end up a war."
"Nonsense, I'm talking about a few plays, and if I cold get some of the other prefect to help that would be good right? Right, therefore…"
"Oh alright, go ahead, now?"
"Yes indeed, I brought a few along, during desert."
"Right then, I'll announce it after dinner, it had better be good."
"Depends on the sense of humor, no need to worry I should think."
"I'm going to trust you on that."
"Good idea." At that moment the bell rang again and they set off, professor Dumbledore with great misgivings about allowing Harry to do this, but Harry was a good prankster, and he was trustworthy, and maybe it would work.
Dinner was a splendid affair, buffet style, with many t tables. Schools were paired to sit, the Hogwarts contingent was sitting with the Snow Valley Alaskan School of Sorcery. Their headmaster was a friend of Dumbledore's. His name was Hakal Aringden, he was about 5'8" with short white hair and a white mustache. Harry and Hermione were introduced to Alex and Daphriene. Both were astonished to actually meet Harry potter, Harry ignored their frequent glances at his scar and managed to engage them in a conversation about secret passages in their school. The professors listened as the students compared notes about the quality, quantity, twitiness, height, length, and location of passages.
"I bet Snow Valley has more secret passages then Hogwarts." Daphriene said.
"Name your starting number." Harry said, jumping at the chance with a devilish grin.
"Eight."
"Ten."
"Twelve."
"Fifteen."
"…Fifteen? We've only got twelve that I know of."
"We've got seventeen actually, and nine hidden rooms, and one hidden staircase and four doors leading to puts into dungeons. Of course those pits are hard to find and easy to get out of. Actually I think that no one under fourth year is capable of seeing them. The third years walked right past and didn't notice anything, to them it would just be a bare room."
"Cool. That must be fun."
"Yeah, the passages were all run down, our friends, Hermione here and I have spent over a year trying to clean them up, and haven't made much progress." Just then the director of the closest magic school, Liberty Bell Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood up at his table and everyone fell silent.
"We are gathered here to trade ideas, plans, and to give support to those who have been attacked in these dark times. May the meetings go well!" He continued through a list of everyone there. When he got to Hogwarts the applause was tremendous, prefects names were announced after the applause but there was a smattering of applause as Harry's name was ready off. He did notice that it was his full name, Harry Emrys James Gryffindor Ambrosius Potter, and not just Harry Potter. He acknowledged the applause with a very slight inclination of his head; did this have to be so tedious?
At the end of the dinner course Dumbledore stood up and called for silence, Harry and Hermione hurried to get set up on the blank wall at the back of the dining hall.
"Excuse me everyone. My Prefects have asked permission to provide us with a little entertainment during desert. Is this acceptable with everyone?" There was a chorus of agreement and all eyes turned to the end of the hall where the two were. They stopped and headed back to their table. The wall turned black, then gold writing appeared.
The following is a production of,
The Hogwarts Magical Mischief Makers Inc.
The Hogwarts Marauders are way too proud to present:
Flying Sheep
(A tourist approaches a shepherd. The sounds of sheep and the outdoors
are heard.)
Tourist: Good afternoon.
Shephrd: Eh, 'tis that.
Tourist: You here on holiday?
Shephrd: Nope, I live 'ere.
Tourist: Oh, good for you. Uh...those ARE sheep aren't they?
Shephrd: Yeh.
Tourist: Hmm, thought they were. Only, what are they doing up in the
trees?
Shephrd: A fair question and one that in recent weeks 'as been much on
my mind. It's my considered opinion that they're nestin'.
Tourist: Nesting?
Shephrd: Aye.
Tourist: Like birds?
Shephrd: Exactly. It's my belief that these sheep are laborin' under
the misapprehension that they're birds. Observe their be'avior.
Take for a start the sheeps' tendency to 'op about the field
on their 'ind legs. Now witness their attmpts to fly from
tree to tree. Notice that they do not so much fly as...plummet.
Baaa baaa... flap flap flap ... whoosh ... thud.
Tourist: Yes, but why do they think they're birds?
Shephrd: Another fair question. One thing is for sure, the sheep is not
a creature of the air. They have enormous difficulty in the
comparatively simple act of perchin'.
Baaa baaa... flap flap flap ... whoosh ... thud.
Trouble is, sheep are very dim. Once they get an idea in their
'eads, there's no shiftin' it.
Tourist: But where did they get the idea?
Shephrd: From Harold. He's that most dangerous of creatures, a clever
sheep. 'e's realized that a sheep's life consists of standin'
around for a few months and then bein' eaten. And that's a
depressing prospect for an ambitious sheep.
Tourist: Well why don't just remove Harold?
Shephrd: Because of the enormous commercial possibilities if 'e succeeds.
(Picture of Hermione sitting behind a desk)
Hermione: And now for something completely different.
The Dead Parrot (Harry is customer and Ron the owner)
A customer enters a pet shop.
Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C: pause I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I
purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's
wrong with it!
O: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking
at one right now.
O: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian
Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful plumage!
C: The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!
C: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up!
(shouting at the cage)
'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if
you show...(owner hits the cage)
O: There, he moved!
C: No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!
O: I never!!
C: Yes, you did!
O: I never, never did anything...
C: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!!
Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up
in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
C: Now that's what I call a dead parrot.
O: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
C: STUNNED?!?
O: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues
stun easily, major.
C: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this.
That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour
ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein'
tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
O: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
C: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why
did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?
O: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable bird, id'nit,
squire? Lovely plumage!
C: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home,
and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in
the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
O: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that bird down,
it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
C: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts
through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!
O: No no! 'E's pining!
C: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased
to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft
of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be
pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off
the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run
down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
(pause)
O: Well, I'd better replace it, then.
(he takes a quick peek behind the counter)
O: Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're
right out of parrots.
C: I see. I see, I get the picture.
O: pause I got a slug.
(pause)
C: Pray, does it talk?
O: Nnnnot really.
C: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
O: Well! I never wanted to do this in the first place. I wanted to be...
A LUMBERJACK!
(Hermione behind her desk again)
Hermione: And now for something completely different.
The Book Shop Sketch (Harry is owner Ira is customer)
Customer: (entering the bookshop) Good morning.
Proprietor (John Cleese): Good morning, sir. Can I help you?
C: Er, yes. Do you have a copy of "Thirty Days in the Samarkind Desert with
the Duchess of Kent" by A. E. J. Eliott, O.B.E.?
P: Ah, well, I don't know the book, sir....
C: Er, never mind, never mind. How about "A Hundred and One Ways to
Start a Fight"?
P: ...By?
C: An Irish gentleman whose name eludes me for the moment.
P: Ah, no, well we haven't got it in stock, sir....
C: Oh, well, not to worry, not to worry. Can you help me with "David
Coperfield"?
P: Ah, yes, Dickens.
C: No....
P: (pause) I beg your pardon?
C: No, Edmund Wells.
O: I... *think* you'll find Charles Dickens wrote "David Copperfield", sir....
C: No, no, Dickens wrote "David Copperfield" with *two* Ps. This is
"David Coperfield" with *one* P by Edmund Wells.
O: "David Coperfield" with one P?
C: Yes, I should have said.
O: Yes, well in that case we don't have it.
C: (peering over counter) Funny, you've got a lot of books here....
O: (slightly perturbed) Yes, we do, but we don't have "David Coperfield"
with one P by Edmund Wells.
C: Pity, it's more thorough than the Dickens.
O: More THOROUGH?!?
C: Yes...I wonder if it might be worth a look through all your "David Copper-
field"s...
O: No, sir, all our "David Copperfield"s have two P's.
C: Are you quite sure?
O: Quite.
C: Not worth just looking?
O: Definitely not.
C: Oh...how 'bout "Grate Expectations"?
O: Yes, well we have that....
C: That's "G-R-A-T-E Expectations," also by Edmund Wells.
O: (pause) Yes, well in that case we don't have it. We don't have anything
by Edmund Wells, actually: he's not very popular.
C: Not "Knickerless Knickleby"? That's K-N-I-C-K-E-R-L-E-S-S.
O: (taciturn) No.
C: "Khristmas Karol" with a K?
O: (really quite perturbed) No....
C: (moving towards door) Sorry to trouble you....
O: Not at all....
C: Good morning.
O: Good morning.
C: (turning around) Oh!
O: (deep breath) Yesss?
C: I wonder if you might have a copy of "Rarnaby Budge"?
O: No, as I say, we're right out of Edmund Wells!
C: No, not Edmund Wells - Charles Dikkens.
O: (pause - eagerly) Charles Dickens??
C: Yes.
O: (excitedly) You mean "Barnaby Rudge"!
C: No, "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens. That's Dikkens with two Ks, the
well-known Dutch author.
O: (slight pause) No, well we don't have "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens
with two Ks, the well-known Dutch author, and perhaps to save time I
should add that we don't have "Karnaby Fudge" by Darles Chickens, or
"Farmer of Sludge" by Marles Pickens, or even "Stickwick Stapers" by Farles
Wickens with four M's and a silent Q!!!!! Why don't you try W. H. Smith's?
C: Ah did, They sent me here.
O: DID they.
C: Oh, I wonder...
O: Oh, do go on, please.
C: Yes...I wonder if you might have "The Amazing Adventures of Captain Gladys
Stoutpamphlet and her Intrepid Spaniel Stig Amongst the Giant Pygmies of
Beckles"...volume eight.
O: (after a pause for recovery) No, we don't have that...funny, we've got a lot
of books here...well, I musn't keep you standing here...thank you,--
C: Oh, well do, do you have--
O: No, we haven't. No, we haven't.
C: B-b-b-but--
O: Sorry, no, it's one o'clock now, we're
closing for lunch--
C: Ah, I--I saw it--
O: I'm sorry--
C: I saw it over there! I saw it...
O: What? What? WHAT?!?
C: I saw it over there: "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds".
O: (pause; trying to stay calm) "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds"?
C: Yes...
O: O-L-S-E-N?
C: Yes....
O: B-I-R-D-S??
C: Yes.....
O: (beat) Yes, well, we do have that, as a matter of fact....
C: The expurgated version....
O: (pause; politely) I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that...?
C: The expurgated version.
O: (exploding) The EXPURGATED version of "Olsen's Standard Book of British
Birds"?!?!?!?!?
C: (desperately) The one without the gannet!
O: The one without the gannet-!!! They've ALL got the gannet!! It's a
Standard British Bird, the gannet, it's in all the books!!!
C: (insistent) Well, I don't like them...they wet their nests.
O: (furious) All right! I'll remove it!! (rrrip!) Any other birds you don't
like?!
C: I don't like the robin...
O: (screaming) The robin! Right! The robin! (rrrip!) There you are, any
others you don't like, any others?
C: The nuthatch?
O: Right! (flipping through the book) The nuthatch, the nuthatch, the
nuthatch, 'ere we are! (rrriiip!) There you are! NO gannets, NO robins,
NO nuthatches, THERE's your book!
C: (indignant) I can't buy that! It's torn!
O: (incoherent noise)
C: Ah, I wonder if you have--
O: God, ask me anything!! We got lots of books here, you know, it's a
bookshop!!
C: Er, how 'bout "Biggles Combs his Hair"?
O: No, no, we don't have that one, funny!
C: "The Gospel According to Charley Drake"?
O: No, no, no, try me again!
C: Ah...oh, I know! "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
O: No, no, no, no, no,...What? WHAT??????
C: "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
O: "Ethel the Aa--" YES!!!YES!!! WE'VE GOT IT!! (throwing books wildly about)
I-I've seen it somewhere!!! I know it!!! Hee hee hee hee hee!!! Ha ha hoo
ho---WAIT!! WAIT!! Is it?? Is it??? (triumphant) YES!!!!!! Here we are,
"Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying"!!!!! There's your book!!
(throwing it down) Now, BUY IT!!!
C: (quickly) I don't have enough money.
O: (desperate) I'll take a deposit!
C: I don't have ANY money!
O: I'll take a check!!
C: I don't have a checkbook!
O: I've got a blank one!!
C: I don't have a bank account!!
O: RIGHT!!!! I'll buy it FOR you! (ring) There we are, there's your change,
there's some money for a taxi on the way home, there's your book, now, now..
C: Wait, wait, wait!
O: What? What?!? WHAT?!? WHAT???!!
C: I can't read!!!
O: (staggeringly long pause; very quietly) You can't...read. (pause) RIGHT!!!
Sit down!! Sit down!! Sit!! Sit!! Are you sitting comfortably???
Right!!! (opens book) "Ethel the Aardvark was hopping down the river valley
one lovely morning, trottety-trottety-trottety, when she might a nice little
quantity surveyor..." (fade out)
Hermione at desk again: So long for now folks, hope you enjoyed our show, and beware of people sitting behind black desks saying "and now for something completely different" ta-ta! She waved and vanished, the wall went blank. Cheers were sounding everywhere and everyone was applauding madly. The entire room got to its feet, Harry and Hermione stood and bowed to everyone and waved happily.
Nearly and hour later the Hogwarts group got back to their rooms. Everyone had wanted to compliment the two prefects and they'd had trouble getting away. Dumbledore was still chuckling, they'd had made quite an impression and everyone was pleased with their "entertainment," Harry immediately wrote a letter to the other Marauders telling them just how good their hard work had turn out.
AN: Hope you like Monty python! Enjoy and please review!
Due to the fact that they were prefects and friends of nearly everyone in the entire school and regarded as the supportive backbone of the school no one thought anything amiss when Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't show up until lunch, at which point Ron came downstairs to get lunch for the five of them. The other Gryffindors, as a sign of support for their fellows went to their common room for a huge group lunch. Late that evening Harry and Hermione went to the prefects & staff meeting, leaving Ron with the two girls.
"Harry what is happening with the twins? Are they okay? Their father would like them to come home for a few days if it would help them." Dumbledore said, Harry couldn't restrain a huge yawn that elicited grins from everyone before answering.
"They're about as tired as I am, cried for most of the morning, stopped long enough to ask a few questions of what was going on, school work, what would happen to their brother, and about the death eaters. I answered them as best I could, poor things are more cut up over their friend than brother, apparently there was never any love lost between them."
"Alright, I'd like to talk to them tomorrow evening if they're up to it."
"Okay, what is happening to that sonofa *****?" There were a few gasps around the room at this and the teachers scowled.
"He's been taken to court, not that much of a trial is needed." Dumbledore said, he lowered the blocking spell momentarily and Harry heard him clearly.
You won't have to testify so don't worry. He admitted to it. "The girl was sent home for burial, there'll be a funeral in two days here and here. The twins will be able to choose which they will attend."
"We have other maters to discuss." Harry said with a displeased frown. "Voldemort got one supporter, though he was a transfer from…Durmstrang I think? Either way his school was attacked at some point, or he saw an attack, and one of his friends was killed. He may have been impressed with Voldemort's power and decided to join because of it. Not that Voldemort has much power lately, but it's coming back. Worse luck for us. Prof. Snape what is, or was, the youngest age at which a person could join the death eaters?" Snape flinched but answered.
"Twenty originally, but as those over twenty got smarter, or scarcer as they joined the Order or put up a good fight, inspiration from you Harry, most prisoners make a practice of spitting in his face…as my wife heard it last. But he will always attract some, the weak, the cowardly, the confused, the angry, the insane. The age is now probably anyone above fourteen." This caused gasps of horror, Harry betrayed none of his thoughts and looked impassive.
"This must be counteracted, but what should we do?" McGonagal said in horror, Harry took his cue from her words as if it had been planned, his voice exploding across the suddenly silent room, speaking as the words formed in his mind and putting all the force he could into them.
"This is a school! What should we do? What should come naturally? Teach! Educate them! Teach them what is happening, educate every student on what is really happening! This is a school, teach them the dangers of being a death eater, the pain and fear, and they will turn away. Tell them the tortures death eaters go through, the conditions they live under, the acts they commit, give them the horrid details, it will only strengthen them. They trust you and are accustomed to learning here, they trust you to teach them, not just magic but what to do and what not to do, they expect to learn, so let them learn! " Everyone burst into applause and finally died out, Dumbledore was beaming at Harry with respect and delight.
"Harry that is perfect. There's to be a meeting of the directors and staff of all the magic teaching schools this Friday, two prefects from each school will be allowed to attend, I would like you to come and tell everyone your idea."
"I would be honored headmaster." Harry replied calmly and simply, completely at odds with his persuasive, exuberant, aggressive, convincing speech a few seconds before. To his surprise everyone was smiling at him, even Snape.
**
Harry did very little to prepare for the meeting. He had it all worked out and so could turn his attention to school, quidditch, the Elementals, and Voldemort. Of the Elementals there was a growing readiness to fight and kill, he got angry easily and began to fight with unusual power and strength. He no longer fought with his friends, too afraid he would hurt them, he fought only with the fake person he had made, and fought at a level that was utterly unmatchable by anything he'd done before. His friends commented that they couldn't see his sword anymore, and that, like a true Lightdancer, as he fought the light flashed off his blade until he seemed to slice the very air apart and send its colors swirling about him. He was a part of the light, a deadly part, yet a beautiful magical part.
He could find no information about the Elementals, which was surprising since their last attack had been only five hundred years ago. But nothing existed because the wizards weren't privy to any information about it. Harry's fear was still there, but now it poured energy into him and power, as people in the halls remarked to him he "positively radiated power to all around him like the sun did energy." Or "his presence was utterly un- ignorable just because of the sheer amount of personality and power into everyone's mind." His friends commented that, contrary to the fighting instincts of a Royal Aaron that was raging inside he seemed to glow with calm power, but all could sense danger and Harry found that everyone looked to him in awe when it was announced that he and Hermione would be going to the meeting. But it was not all power and calm for Harry, his senses had gone on ultra alert mode and he was hard put to keep back the power and to stop himself from transforming, resisting the urge to fight constantly or to meditate to a point where he was in a self-induced coma.
Of Voldemort there was news, bad news. He was recovering rapidly and so was his apprentice. He were gathering their followers about him, recruiting others ot continue terrorist activities everywhere to keep the Order busy. "Run ragged," was what Sirius called it, vampires, trolls, mesmerds, death eaters, a few Spidren and some snakes were with him and aiding him. Abroad vampires and river trolls (the smartest kind), all with the dark mark, were fighting for him. Seven dead in two days and twenty injured, ten left homeless, one Order member dead, two inured. Harry tried and tried to help, going on any patrol he was allowed on, sending his snakes about, trying to See anything of use in fires, and he tired. But he knew his efforts made a difference and were very much appreciated. He even told a reporter that the Order was a little tired but ready for action. He also gave out the news of Voldemort's apprentice to everyone when Sirius asked him to.
Quidditch was going well, Harry spent two hours a day flying, flying standing on his broom, whirling and twisting like a snowboarder in the air or a gymnast in stunning maneuvers that left an ever growing crowd breathless. Flying calmed him and he only truly felt free in the air.
"You fly so much, what do you get out of it? What happens to you that makes you enjoy it so much?" A new sixth year of Ravenclaw named Danielle asked him once.
"It lets my mind free and lets my spirit loose to soar, I am only truly free when in flight." He answered as he landed lightly, sad to be back on the ground, but it was time for class. In the next quidditch match, Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, Slytherin flattened Ravenclaw, unsure of whom to support the Marauders surprised their friend and came with green scarves and hats but sat near the Ravenclaw section. This left only the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw and Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff, and then the Quidditch cup, Gryffindor was definitely in, and either Hufflepuff or Slytherin.
Late on Friday afternoon Harry, Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape, Sprout, Figg, and the Purple patrol took a portkey to the meeting. They'd be back on Sunday evening.
The meeting was in a huge building in America, in here was where the Ministries had their world-wide meetings, Warlocks conventions, and other such things. An aide led them down a pale green marble hallway, through a redwood door, and into a large lounge/gathering room. Couches and chairs sat around coffee tables, the carpet was deep red, tan, gold, and green, as were the couches. Each of them had their own room coming off the gathering room. Harry went into his; everything was light gray, deep green, white, and gold. There was a big four-poster bed and a wide window. A dresser with a mirror on it and a small table. Since he had two hours until the dinner banquet he did his homework and had a game of chess with Hermione while the professors watched on and laughed at their threats of pranks and counter threats and comments. Harry won, but not by much. Everyone seemed very relaxed, then the bell rang and everyone went to get dressed for the banquet.
Harry glared venomously at the clothes he had to wear. Very elaborate dress robes, fit for a king. They were in deep green but he changed them to black, he left the gold ribbon, and embroidery alone. They weren't even really robes he thought; he and Hermione were wearing what appeared to be a version of their Marauder clothes. Black pants, not leather, with the fringe down the sides and the gold bead. Gold around the tops of black boots and gold beads on the boots like a lightning bolt. Black shirt with fringe and gold bead, black vest with fringe in a V, gold bead and all. Cape attached at each shoulder with a clasp upon which was the Hogwarts crest carved into the gold with colored filigree. The cape was black with a gold underside and gold fringe along the bottom edge. The sleeves of the shirt were huge at the cuff, the opening long and hanging, thrice as large as his wrist with gold around the edge. From the black and gold belt with its gold lightning bolt buckle he hung his gauntlets, black and his gold lightning bolt with the hidden knife inside, flattened, it would spring up straight and ready to cut when he flicked his hand just right. He loosely tied his hair back with a black strip of leather and put in his single earring, a tiny gold ring with a gold lightning bolt carved on it in his left ear. He removed the hidden knives and discs from his boots and sleeves; it wouldn't do for him to go armed. He hid his wand up his sleeve and unattached the poisoned spikes on the heels of his boots and took the poison dart off the gold chain around his neck. He glanced in the mirror, his scar was a slightly pale gold and barely visible, hopefully it would stay that way.
When he emerged most of the others were ready and waiting for only Prof. Sprout, his clothes raised a few eyebrows.
"I thought you liked dark green." Dumbledore said in surprise, Harry frowned and glanced at him, he didn't look disapproving.
"I like black better."
"You did leave your…weapons…in your room didn't you?"
"Yes sir, not that anyone would be able to tell I had them anyway."
"Did you two put anything we should know about in the food?" This from a suspicious Professor Snape.
"We should have, but we didn't, ahh, what a missed opportunity to show our skill huh Herm?"
"Harry! You wouldn't dream of it."
"Oh? And how would you know that pray? A most entertaining dream it was too, I've still got plenty of time."
"Harry please."
"Yes professor?"
"J-just don't will you?"
"Would that depend who I play the prank on?"
"No, just don't."
"You ruin my fun professor, everyone needs a few good laughs."
"Not now Harry."
"Not even to the other prefect here?"
"That's no way to make friends."
"Worked before."
"And never again."
"Maybe a play then? We've got a few done, harmless ones."
"Opposed to the not-so-harmless?"
"Opposed to the ones in which the professors are humiliated, you'll be seeing a few of those soon, but not now."
"Harry really, what good could that possibly serve?"
"What better way to relax people then to provide entertainment and a few laughs? What was the term used in the letter? Inter-school relationship building? Wouldn't everyone just love it if Hogwarts were to provide entertainment?"
"With you doing it this might end up as a contest between prefects to see who can be the most entertaining."
"Would that be bad?"
"Not everyone has your…control…it might end up a war."
"Nonsense, I'm talking about a few plays, and if I cold get some of the other prefect to help that would be good right? Right, therefore…"
"Oh alright, go ahead, now?"
"Yes indeed, I brought a few along, during desert."
"Right then, I'll announce it after dinner, it had better be good."
"Depends on the sense of humor, no need to worry I should think."
"I'm going to trust you on that."
"Good idea." At that moment the bell rang again and they set off, professor Dumbledore with great misgivings about allowing Harry to do this, but Harry was a good prankster, and he was trustworthy, and maybe it would work.
Dinner was a splendid affair, buffet style, with many t tables. Schools were paired to sit, the Hogwarts contingent was sitting with the Snow Valley Alaskan School of Sorcery. Their headmaster was a friend of Dumbledore's. His name was Hakal Aringden, he was about 5'8" with short white hair and a white mustache. Harry and Hermione were introduced to Alex and Daphriene. Both were astonished to actually meet Harry potter, Harry ignored their frequent glances at his scar and managed to engage them in a conversation about secret passages in their school. The professors listened as the students compared notes about the quality, quantity, twitiness, height, length, and location of passages.
"I bet Snow Valley has more secret passages then Hogwarts." Daphriene said.
"Name your starting number." Harry said, jumping at the chance with a devilish grin.
"Eight."
"Ten."
"Twelve."
"Fifteen."
"…Fifteen? We've only got twelve that I know of."
"We've got seventeen actually, and nine hidden rooms, and one hidden staircase and four doors leading to puts into dungeons. Of course those pits are hard to find and easy to get out of. Actually I think that no one under fourth year is capable of seeing them. The third years walked right past and didn't notice anything, to them it would just be a bare room."
"Cool. That must be fun."
"Yeah, the passages were all run down, our friends, Hermione here and I have spent over a year trying to clean them up, and haven't made much progress." Just then the director of the closest magic school, Liberty Bell Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood up at his table and everyone fell silent.
"We are gathered here to trade ideas, plans, and to give support to those who have been attacked in these dark times. May the meetings go well!" He continued through a list of everyone there. When he got to Hogwarts the applause was tremendous, prefects names were announced after the applause but there was a smattering of applause as Harry's name was ready off. He did notice that it was his full name, Harry Emrys James Gryffindor Ambrosius Potter, and not just Harry Potter. He acknowledged the applause with a very slight inclination of his head; did this have to be so tedious?
At the end of the dinner course Dumbledore stood up and called for silence, Harry and Hermione hurried to get set up on the blank wall at the back of the dining hall.
"Excuse me everyone. My Prefects have asked permission to provide us with a little entertainment during desert. Is this acceptable with everyone?" There was a chorus of agreement and all eyes turned to the end of the hall where the two were. They stopped and headed back to their table. The wall turned black, then gold writing appeared.
The following is a production of,
The Hogwarts Magical Mischief Makers Inc.
The Hogwarts Marauders are way too proud to present:
Flying Sheep
(A tourist approaches a shepherd. The sounds of sheep and the outdoors
are heard.)
Tourist: Good afternoon.
Shephrd: Eh, 'tis that.
Tourist: You here on holiday?
Shephrd: Nope, I live 'ere.
Tourist: Oh, good for you. Uh...those ARE sheep aren't they?
Shephrd: Yeh.
Tourist: Hmm, thought they were. Only, what are they doing up in the
trees?
Shephrd: A fair question and one that in recent weeks 'as been much on
my mind. It's my considered opinion that they're nestin'.
Tourist: Nesting?
Shephrd: Aye.
Tourist: Like birds?
Shephrd: Exactly. It's my belief that these sheep are laborin' under
the misapprehension that they're birds. Observe their be'avior.
Take for a start the sheeps' tendency to 'op about the field
on their 'ind legs. Now witness their attmpts to fly from
tree to tree. Notice that they do not so much fly as...plummet.
Baaa baaa... flap flap flap ... whoosh ... thud.
Tourist: Yes, but why do they think they're birds?
Shephrd: Another fair question. One thing is for sure, the sheep is not
a creature of the air. They have enormous difficulty in the
comparatively simple act of perchin'.
Baaa baaa... flap flap flap ... whoosh ... thud.
Trouble is, sheep are very dim. Once they get an idea in their
'eads, there's no shiftin' it.
Tourist: But where did they get the idea?
Shephrd: From Harold. He's that most dangerous of creatures, a clever
sheep. 'e's realized that a sheep's life consists of standin'
around for a few months and then bein' eaten. And that's a
depressing prospect for an ambitious sheep.
Tourist: Well why don't just remove Harold?
Shephrd: Because of the enormous commercial possibilities if 'e succeeds.
(Picture of Hermione sitting behind a desk)
Hermione: And now for something completely different.
The Dead Parrot (Harry is customer and Ron the owner)
A customer enters a pet shop.
Customer: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
C: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
C: pause I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
O: We're closin' for lunch.
C: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I
purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
O: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
C: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's
wrong with it!
O: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
C: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I'm looking
at one right now.
O: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian
Blue, idn'it, ay? Beautiful plumage!
C: The plumage don't enter into it. It's stone dead.
O: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!
C: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up!
(shouting at the cage)
'Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I've got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if
you show...(owner hits the cage)
O: There, he moved!
C: No, he didn't, that was you hitting the cage!
O: I never!!
C: Yes, you did!
O: I never, never did anything...
C: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) 'ELLO POLLY!!!!!
Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call!
(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up
in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
C: Now that's what I call a dead parrot.
O: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
C: STUNNED?!?
O: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Norwegian Blues
stun easily, major.
C: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this.
That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour
ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein'
tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
O: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
C: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why
did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?
O: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable bird, id'nit,
squire? Lovely plumage!
C: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home,
and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in
the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
O: Well, o'course it was nailed there! If I hadn't nailed that bird down,
it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent 'em apart with its beak, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
C: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts
through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!
O: No no! 'E's pining!
C: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased
to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft
of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be
pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off
the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run
down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!!
THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!
(pause)
O: Well, I'd better replace it, then.
(he takes a quick peek behind the counter)
O: Sorry squire, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're
right out of parrots.
C: I see. I see, I get the picture.
O: pause I got a slug.
(pause)
C: Pray, does it talk?
O: Nnnnot really.
C: WELL IT'S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
O: Well! I never wanted to do this in the first place. I wanted to be...
A LUMBERJACK!
(Hermione behind her desk again)
Hermione: And now for something completely different.
The Book Shop Sketch (Harry is owner Ira is customer)
Customer: (entering the bookshop) Good morning.
Proprietor (John Cleese): Good morning, sir. Can I help you?
C: Er, yes. Do you have a copy of "Thirty Days in the Samarkind Desert with
the Duchess of Kent" by A. E. J. Eliott, O.B.E.?
P: Ah, well, I don't know the book, sir....
C: Er, never mind, never mind. How about "A Hundred and One Ways to
Start a Fight"?
P: ...By?
C: An Irish gentleman whose name eludes me for the moment.
P: Ah, no, well we haven't got it in stock, sir....
C: Oh, well, not to worry, not to worry. Can you help me with "David
Coperfield"?
P: Ah, yes, Dickens.
C: No....
P: (pause) I beg your pardon?
C: No, Edmund Wells.
O: I... *think* you'll find Charles Dickens wrote "David Copperfield", sir....
C: No, no, Dickens wrote "David Copperfield" with *two* Ps. This is
"David Coperfield" with *one* P by Edmund Wells.
O: "David Coperfield" with one P?
C: Yes, I should have said.
O: Yes, well in that case we don't have it.
C: (peering over counter) Funny, you've got a lot of books here....
O: (slightly perturbed) Yes, we do, but we don't have "David Coperfield"
with one P by Edmund Wells.
C: Pity, it's more thorough than the Dickens.
O: More THOROUGH?!?
C: Yes...I wonder if it might be worth a look through all your "David Copper-
field"s...
O: No, sir, all our "David Copperfield"s have two P's.
C: Are you quite sure?
O: Quite.
C: Not worth just looking?
O: Definitely not.
C: Oh...how 'bout "Grate Expectations"?
O: Yes, well we have that....
C: That's "G-R-A-T-E Expectations," also by Edmund Wells.
O: (pause) Yes, well in that case we don't have it. We don't have anything
by Edmund Wells, actually: he's not very popular.
C: Not "Knickerless Knickleby"? That's K-N-I-C-K-E-R-L-E-S-S.
O: (taciturn) No.
C: "Khristmas Karol" with a K?
O: (really quite perturbed) No....
C: (moving towards door) Sorry to trouble you....
O: Not at all....
C: Good morning.
O: Good morning.
C: (turning around) Oh!
O: (deep breath) Yesss?
C: I wonder if you might have a copy of "Rarnaby Budge"?
O: No, as I say, we're right out of Edmund Wells!
C: No, not Edmund Wells - Charles Dikkens.
O: (pause - eagerly) Charles Dickens??
C: Yes.
O: (excitedly) You mean "Barnaby Rudge"!
C: No, "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens. That's Dikkens with two Ks, the
well-known Dutch author.
O: (slight pause) No, well we don't have "Rarnaby Budge" by Charles Dikkens
with two Ks, the well-known Dutch author, and perhaps to save time I
should add that we don't have "Karnaby Fudge" by Darles Chickens, or
"Farmer of Sludge" by Marles Pickens, or even "Stickwick Stapers" by Farles
Wickens with four M's and a silent Q!!!!! Why don't you try W. H. Smith's?
C: Ah did, They sent me here.
O: DID they.
C: Oh, I wonder...
O: Oh, do go on, please.
C: Yes...I wonder if you might have "The Amazing Adventures of Captain Gladys
Stoutpamphlet and her Intrepid Spaniel Stig Amongst the Giant Pygmies of
Beckles"...volume eight.
O: (after a pause for recovery) No, we don't have that...funny, we've got a lot
of books here...well, I musn't keep you standing here...thank you,--
C: Oh, well do, do you have--
O: No, we haven't. No, we haven't.
C: B-b-b-but--
O: Sorry, no, it's one o'clock now, we're
closing for lunch--
C: Ah, I--I saw it--
O: I'm sorry--
C: I saw it over there! I saw it...
O: What? What? WHAT?!?
C: I saw it over there: "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds".
O: (pause; trying to stay calm) "Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds"?
C: Yes...
O: O-L-S-E-N?
C: Yes....
O: B-I-R-D-S??
C: Yes.....
O: (beat) Yes, well, we do have that, as a matter of fact....
C: The expurgated version....
O: (pause; politely) I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that...?
C: The expurgated version.
O: (exploding) The EXPURGATED version of "Olsen's Standard Book of British
Birds"?!?!?!?!?
C: (desperately) The one without the gannet!
O: The one without the gannet-!!! They've ALL got the gannet!! It's a
Standard British Bird, the gannet, it's in all the books!!!
C: (insistent) Well, I don't like them...they wet their nests.
O: (furious) All right! I'll remove it!! (rrrip!) Any other birds you don't
like?!
C: I don't like the robin...
O: (screaming) The robin! Right! The robin! (rrrip!) There you are, any
others you don't like, any others?
C: The nuthatch?
O: Right! (flipping through the book) The nuthatch, the nuthatch, the
nuthatch, 'ere we are! (rrriiip!) There you are! NO gannets, NO robins,
NO nuthatches, THERE's your book!
C: (indignant) I can't buy that! It's torn!
O: (incoherent noise)
C: Ah, I wonder if you have--
O: God, ask me anything!! We got lots of books here, you know, it's a
bookshop!!
C: Er, how 'bout "Biggles Combs his Hair"?
O: No, no, we don't have that one, funny!
C: "The Gospel According to Charley Drake"?
O: No, no, no, try me again!
C: Ah...oh, I know! "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
O: No, no, no, no, no,...What? WHAT??????
C: "Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying".
O: "Ethel the Aa--" YES!!!YES!!! WE'VE GOT IT!! (throwing books wildly about)
I-I've seen it somewhere!!! I know it!!! Hee hee hee hee hee!!! Ha ha hoo
ho---WAIT!! WAIT!! Is it?? Is it??? (triumphant) YES!!!!!! Here we are,
"Ethel the Aardvark goes Quantity Surveying"!!!!! There's your book!!
(throwing it down) Now, BUY IT!!!
C: (quickly) I don't have enough money.
O: (desperate) I'll take a deposit!
C: I don't have ANY money!
O: I'll take a check!!
C: I don't have a checkbook!
O: I've got a blank one!!
C: I don't have a bank account!!
O: RIGHT!!!! I'll buy it FOR you! (ring) There we are, there's your change,
there's some money for a taxi on the way home, there's your book, now, now..
C: Wait, wait, wait!
O: What? What?!? WHAT?!? WHAT???!!
C: I can't read!!!
O: (staggeringly long pause; very quietly) You can't...read. (pause) RIGHT!!!
Sit down!! Sit down!! Sit!! Sit!! Are you sitting comfortably???
Right!!! (opens book) "Ethel the Aardvark was hopping down the river valley
one lovely morning, trottety-trottety-trottety, when she might a nice little
quantity surveyor..." (fade out)
Hermione at desk again: So long for now folks, hope you enjoyed our show, and beware of people sitting behind black desks saying "and now for something completely different" ta-ta! She waved and vanished, the wall went blank. Cheers were sounding everywhere and everyone was applauding madly. The entire room got to its feet, Harry and Hermione stood and bowed to everyone and waved happily.
Nearly and hour later the Hogwarts group got back to their rooms. Everyone had wanted to compliment the two prefects and they'd had trouble getting away. Dumbledore was still chuckling, they'd had made quite an impression and everyone was pleased with their "entertainment," Harry immediately wrote a letter to the other Marauders telling them just how good their hard work had turn out.