"The Jivin' Wizard MagiClub" by Quidditch, Anyone?
The Battle... Well, Kinda
That same night, even though the good guys were still in their jammies, they had pulled together a rather large squad of people to help crash the party that was being held again tonight. They reached the bar silently. Peeking through the windows, Harry got a full blast of the, er, adjustments made.
The MagiClub couldn't have undergone a more drastic change. Instead of techno music which was quite popular among the wizard teens, the club played 'The Best of Cher'. The drinks were different, the dancing was different, and the signs on the bathroom which distinguished them as a 'Men's or 'Women's were inexistent.
"All right, the jig is up! We've had enough of your antics! Now, get out of our bar, and for God's sake, all of you- put some pants on!" Harry said in disgust as he burst through the doors. His wand was out in front of him and pointed at the closest Slytherin- Malfoy.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Harry," Draco said softly. "I'm sure if we can just talk this over-"
"No way, Malfoy. This bar is our creation, and we're the ones who deserve to have it," George said. He and about two dozen others followed Harry and also were armed with wands.
For a second, it looked as if a war would break out. The two ring leaders, Harry and Malfoy, stood face-to-mascara-covered-face in the front of the others, who were all glaring with hatred and malice. Wait, this didn't look like the beginning of a war... more like a musical scene from West Side Story! Only... not!
"Harry, friends, foes..." Malfoy began. "We could stay and battle well into the night-"
"But we're not really wearing the right shoes-" piped up a Slytherin from the second row.
"No, because violence never solved anything," Malfoy pointed out.
"Sure it has!" Neville voiced. "Take a look at history! Muggles have already had two World Wars, and if the Americans hadn't rebelled in the eighteenth century, why, they'd still be a bunch of bloody colonies owned by us! That and countless goblin rebellions, the entire era in which You-Know-Who was in power..." he rattled off a few other events of world revolution.
"Well, okay, so you have a point, Longbottom," Draco interrupted. "But we don't need to go into a whole bloody war now! Can we at least try to talk this over?"
"Well," Harry lowered his wand. "I guess you do have a point. There's already enough discrimination against gays in this world. I mean, you're people, too, and it's not really fair if we run you out of our MagiClub just for that reason."
"But, it was your idea... and you built this entire thing. It was awfully rude of us to just come and take it all over."
"Hey, this place was destined to be subject to change," Fred said. "How about on Saturdays and every other Sundays you have the bar, and we'll have it-"
"Oh, wake up everyone! This is the problem with every teenager, author, movie director... just about everyone who had anything to do with the media. You all create these huge problems so your plots and pathetic adolescent lives will be more interesting, but then you just end up making a whole bunch of other problems, and you complain because you can't solve them! Why can't everyone just grow up, stop your whining, finish the fanfics, and take the easy way out by all gettin' jiggy TOGETHER?"
Everyone stared at Ron. Although he was portrayed as the impatient guy who hardly had any opinions or solutions of his own, his theory made the most sense of anything else in this whole plot. Who knew?
"Well, I'm sold. Bartender, make me one of those trendy lounge cocktails," Fred said.
So with that, the music started once again (something between 'Believe' and 'Venga Boys'), and everyone at Hogwarts was once again living happily ever after. Only this time, they were happily groovin' in their night club in their pajamas alongside the cross-dressing Slytherins. The End!
Yup, that's it. My first official fic that doesn't make much sense. In case you're wondering, the bugs in my house seemed to have gotten the hint, all except for one huge ant I met this morning and a spider that still chills around the shower. I've decided to call him Junior, because he's miniscule compared to the one that was by my sink, who at first I thought was Aragog. So I guess my own problem turned out just like this fic- a little wacky, fun to play around with, ending happily, and not as interesting as I had anticipated. Oh well.