Disclaimer: Yes, Harry still belongs to J.K. Rowling!
A/N: Thankyou so much for all the reviews! The most I've ever got on any other story is 11, so I was so happy that people reviewed this one! Thanks, you are all wonderful people. And thanks to everyone who had really cool plot ideas . . . I can't promise but you *may* see them coming up later on!
Chapter Four: Howls and Hurts
When Harry was woken the next day, it wasn't by Fred and George coming up to 'affectionately' strangle Ron as per usual, but by a strange burning smell. Coming from something right next to his left ear. Come to think of it, his ear also felt . . . warmer than usual. But ickle Harrykins was not yet awake enough to guess the reason for this (although even if he was wide awake and chockful of caffeine, it's debatable whether he'd have realised anyway).
However, the cause of this unusual occurrence soon made itself very clear indeed. By howling. Right into Harry's ear.
Harry shot out of bed. Ron shot out of bed. Probably all the other Weasleys and Hermione shot out of bed as well, but I wouldn't know. I wasn't watching them.
Harry and Ron started, traumatised, at the envelope, addressed to 'Harry Potter' or alternatively 'Imbecile'. Which was bright red and flaming. Which was a bit of a giveaway to those who hadn't already guessed. 'Oh! It's a Howler!' said our favourite black-haired boy as comprehension dawned. Ron slowly nodded, then they both gaped at the Howler, which had now started to sing.
'WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU! WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU!' it belted out, fairly tunefully actually, especially when compared to Harry's yodelling. Then, apparently, the sender got bored of this song, and reverted to their favourite: 'BOB THE BUILDER! CAN HE FIX IT? BOB THE BUILDER! YES HE CAN (USUALLY)!'
Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Ron. Ron screamed. Harry screamed. Hermione came running into the room. 'Are you OK? Why are you shouting? Why are you SINGING?' Ron pointed, wordlessly, at the Howler, and the penny dropped. 'Ah,' said Hermione, sounding very wise. Harry noticed this and did not want to be outdone. So he slid his glasses down his nose for maximum effect, and tried to think of something intelligent to say. It looked very painful. Thinking was a new idea to our hero. Hermione noticed Harry's pained look and the deep wrinkles appearing in his forehead. She also noticed the fact that he was wearing his glasses à la Dumbledore, but decided, for the timebeing, to overlook that fact. 'Harry? Are you OK? Is your scar hurting?'
But Harry didn't reply. He had now thought of something he considered quite intelligent to say. He gestured at the Howler. 'It would appear that Lord Voldemort has replied,' he said seriously. Ron looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Ron. Ron shrugged. Hermione shrugged. And they both turned back to Harry. 'Er . . . yes,' said Hermione, cautiously. 'It would seem so.' They all looked at the Howler, which was still going strong. It was now in shouting mode.
'SO YOU THINK YOU CAN SHOUT LOUDER THAN ME, EH, POTTER? WELL I'VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU. YOU'RE WRONG! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SEE? AND I'VE GOT MORE NEWS FOR YOU! YOU'RE STUPID AS WELL AS HAVING A PITIFUL VOICE. OH, BUT YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THAT LAST SENTENCE, DID YOU? YOU ARE STUPID. AND IT ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS ME!'
'No!' said Hermione covering her ears in pain. Ron did likewise. But Harry was still listening to the Howler.
'AND YOU FORGOT THAT YOU WERE SENDING ME A HOWLER? WHEN YOU WERE IN MID- SHOUT? I'VE GIVEN UP TRYING TO UNDERSTAND YOU, HARRY! YOU THOUGHT I WAS JEALOUS OF BOB THE BUILDER? WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR? IT'S HIS CAT I WANT, NOT HIM! I MERELY WISH TO KIDNAP PILCHARD. IS THAT TOO MUCH FOR YOU? IS THAT TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND? I HATE YOU, HARRY. AND I'M GOING TO GET YOU SOON, JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOY ME!'
Harry turned to Hermione. 'Don't say it, Harry!' she pleaded. 'Please, don't say it!'
Harry started jogging gently from side to side as if he really really needed the loo. 'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' he shouted. 'He really, really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'
'We know!' said Ron, 'we know only too well!' He turned to Hermione. 'If only we could use magic during the holidays!' he said. Hermione nodded sympathetically.
'Why?' Harry wanted to know.
'Erm . . . so we could . . . crack mirrors!' said Ron, lamely.
'Oh, easy-peasy!' said Harry. 'You don't need magic for that! Look. You do it like this!' and he marched over to Ron's bedroom mirror, gave a trademark Daniel Radcliffe seriously terrifying grin, and the glass obligingly cracked. 'There you go!' said Harry, happily. 'But why do you want to crack mirrors?'
Ron was too busy staring, scared, at Harry to reply. Hermione was also looking quite daunted. The Howler wasn't though.
'GONNA GET YER! GONNA EAT YER!' It had started singing again. Then the sender started rapping . . . 'THE NAME IS VOLDY AND I THINK POTTER IS MOULDY AND I KNOW I'M GONNA GET REVENGE - YEAH! COS HE'S EVIL AND HE'S VILE, HE REMINDS ME OF MY . . . BILE, SO I KNOW I'M GONNA GET REVENGE, YEAH!'
Hermione listened, awed. 'I never knew You-Know-Who was a musician!' she said to Ron. Ron looked a little disappointed. Then said: 'Well, music is one of MY many talents, Hermy,' in what he obviously considered to be a seductive and winning voice.
Hermione opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by an unmistakeable snigger from George, who was, with Fred, hiding behind Ron's bedroom door and listening to their conversation. 'Shut up, George!' shouted Ron. 'Go away and stop hiding behind the . . . DOORS! DOORS!' and Ron relapsed into hysteria. Again.
Harry looked at Hermione blankly. 'What's so funny about doors?' he asked, bemused.
'Oh, nothing, Harry,' said Hermione, sounding stifled, and struggling to hold back her giggles. Pretty unsuccessfully. She collapsed onto the floor and joined Ron, wriggling with mirth. Harry blinked. Harry shrugged. Fred and George came in.
'What's wrong with them?' asked Fred.
'I wish I knew,' said Harry, sounding rather wise, but the effect was spoilt by the fact that his glasses now appeared to be wedged up his nostrils. He then continued to listen to the Howler.
'YOU ARE SO STUPID! IT'S UNBELIEVABLE. AND YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD A CHANCE AGAINST ME. SHOUTING AGAINST ME. I CAN SHOUT FAR TOO LOUDLY FOR YOUR LITTLE EARDRUMS, POTTER. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SEE? SEE HOW WRONG YOU WERE. YODEL-EH-I-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YODEL-EH-I-EEEEEEEEEE! KEEP AWAY FROM ME! WHEN I'M READY, I'LL COME FOR YOU, WITH PILCHARD, BUT UNTIL THEN, I'M BUSY PLOTTING AND DO NOT NOT NOT WANT TO BE DISTURBED BY MORONS WITH ISSUES!'
Fred whistled. George whistled. 'You must have really rattled him, Harry,' said Fred, impressed.
However, Harry was too busy trying to whistle to hear that last sentence. 'You can WHISTLE!' he said, deeply impressed.
'Er . . . yes. We can whistle,' said George, with a worried look at Fred.
'Can you teach me?' asked Harry, awed. 'Please? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? Pretty please with a cherry on top and chocolate sprinkles and extra cream and . . .'
'Er . . . OK,' said Fred, also looking worried. 'If you want . . .'
And to the background of Ron's hysteria, Hermione's nervous and sporadic giggles, and the Howler, which was still going strong, the twins tried to teach the fifteen-year-old Harry Potter to whistle. He unfortunately did not seem to possess natural aptitude. After the thirty-fourth strange wet bubbling sound, George said, 'Um . . . maybe you need a . . . rest, Harry. Maybe you can't whistle because you're too tired.'
'Could be,' said Harry wisely, nodding, then 'Ow!' as his glasses poked him up the nose. He looked at the flaming red envelope and noticed that it was nearly burnt up. But the voice continued as strong as ever.
'STOP SENDING ME LETTERS! DON'T STALK ME! KEEP AWAY FROM ME! OR I'LL SET PILCHARD ON YOU WHEN I'VE GOT HIM! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! YOU REALLY REALLY DO! BUT SHUT UP, AND KEEP AWAY, OR I'LL COME AND KILL YOU EARLIER THAN I THOUGHT I'D HAVE TO.' And for a grand finale, a final, loud, rendition of 'BOB THE BUILDER!' then the envelope crumpled into ash and the flames went out.
The room was suddenly quiet. Well, apart from Ron's insane laughing. Hermione had managed to virtually collect herself.
'Harry, maybe you should stop sending him Howlers,' said Fred, 'I mean, there's something . . . unhealthily obsessive about sending him so many letters.'
'Yeah,' said George. 'It is kind of . . . weird, Harry.'
'But he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' said Harry loudly.
Ron screamed and ran from the room. Hermione screamed and ran from the room.
'He really, really, ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'
Fred screamed and ran from the room. George screamed and ran from the room.
'He really really really does ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY me!'
The entire Weasley family evacuated the house, screaming.
Leaving Harry alone inside Ron's bright orange bedroom. Well, not quite alone. Because something was trying to get through a small window into the room. So Harry naively decided to open the bigger window and let it in (stupid boy). The It was actually a Them. Three big birds flew in through the window, and each carried a smoking red envelope in their beaks.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review! (
A/N: Thankyou so much for all the reviews! The most I've ever got on any other story is 11, so I was so happy that people reviewed this one! Thanks, you are all wonderful people. And thanks to everyone who had really cool plot ideas . . . I can't promise but you *may* see them coming up later on!
Chapter Four: Howls and Hurts
When Harry was woken the next day, it wasn't by Fred and George coming up to 'affectionately' strangle Ron as per usual, but by a strange burning smell. Coming from something right next to his left ear. Come to think of it, his ear also felt . . . warmer than usual. But ickle Harrykins was not yet awake enough to guess the reason for this (although even if he was wide awake and chockful of caffeine, it's debatable whether he'd have realised anyway).
However, the cause of this unusual occurrence soon made itself very clear indeed. By howling. Right into Harry's ear.
Harry shot out of bed. Ron shot out of bed. Probably all the other Weasleys and Hermione shot out of bed as well, but I wouldn't know. I wasn't watching them.
Harry and Ron started, traumatised, at the envelope, addressed to 'Harry Potter' or alternatively 'Imbecile'. Which was bright red and flaming. Which was a bit of a giveaway to those who hadn't already guessed. 'Oh! It's a Howler!' said our favourite black-haired boy as comprehension dawned. Ron slowly nodded, then they both gaped at the Howler, which had now started to sing.
'WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU! WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU!' it belted out, fairly tunefully actually, especially when compared to Harry's yodelling. Then, apparently, the sender got bored of this song, and reverted to their favourite: 'BOB THE BUILDER! CAN HE FIX IT? BOB THE BUILDER! YES HE CAN (USUALLY)!'
Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Ron. Ron screamed. Harry screamed. Hermione came running into the room. 'Are you OK? Why are you shouting? Why are you SINGING?' Ron pointed, wordlessly, at the Howler, and the penny dropped. 'Ah,' said Hermione, sounding very wise. Harry noticed this and did not want to be outdone. So he slid his glasses down his nose for maximum effect, and tried to think of something intelligent to say. It looked very painful. Thinking was a new idea to our hero. Hermione noticed Harry's pained look and the deep wrinkles appearing in his forehead. She also noticed the fact that he was wearing his glasses à la Dumbledore, but decided, for the timebeing, to overlook that fact. 'Harry? Are you OK? Is your scar hurting?'
But Harry didn't reply. He had now thought of something he considered quite intelligent to say. He gestured at the Howler. 'It would appear that Lord Voldemort has replied,' he said seriously. Ron looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Ron. Ron shrugged. Hermione shrugged. And they both turned back to Harry. 'Er . . . yes,' said Hermione, cautiously. 'It would seem so.' They all looked at the Howler, which was still going strong. It was now in shouting mode.
'SO YOU THINK YOU CAN SHOUT LOUDER THAN ME, EH, POTTER? WELL I'VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU. YOU'RE WRONG! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SEE? AND I'VE GOT MORE NEWS FOR YOU! YOU'RE STUPID AS WELL AS HAVING A PITIFUL VOICE. OH, BUT YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THAT LAST SENTENCE, DID YOU? YOU ARE STUPID. AND IT ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS ME!'
'No!' said Hermione covering her ears in pain. Ron did likewise. But Harry was still listening to the Howler.
'AND YOU FORGOT THAT YOU WERE SENDING ME A HOWLER? WHEN YOU WERE IN MID- SHOUT? I'VE GIVEN UP TRYING TO UNDERSTAND YOU, HARRY! YOU THOUGHT I WAS JEALOUS OF BOB THE BUILDER? WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR? IT'S HIS CAT I WANT, NOT HIM! I MERELY WISH TO KIDNAP PILCHARD. IS THAT TOO MUCH FOR YOU? IS THAT TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND? I HATE YOU, HARRY. AND I'M GOING TO GET YOU SOON, JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOY ME!'
Harry turned to Hermione. 'Don't say it, Harry!' she pleaded. 'Please, don't say it!'
Harry started jogging gently from side to side as if he really really needed the loo. 'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' he shouted. 'He really, really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'
'We know!' said Ron, 'we know only too well!' He turned to Hermione. 'If only we could use magic during the holidays!' he said. Hermione nodded sympathetically.
'Why?' Harry wanted to know.
'Erm . . . so we could . . . crack mirrors!' said Ron, lamely.
'Oh, easy-peasy!' said Harry. 'You don't need magic for that! Look. You do it like this!' and he marched over to Ron's bedroom mirror, gave a trademark Daniel Radcliffe seriously terrifying grin, and the glass obligingly cracked. 'There you go!' said Harry, happily. 'But why do you want to crack mirrors?'
Ron was too busy staring, scared, at Harry to reply. Hermione was also looking quite daunted. The Howler wasn't though.
'GONNA GET YER! GONNA EAT YER!' It had started singing again. Then the sender started rapping . . . 'THE NAME IS VOLDY AND I THINK POTTER IS MOULDY AND I KNOW I'M GONNA GET REVENGE - YEAH! COS HE'S EVIL AND HE'S VILE, HE REMINDS ME OF MY . . . BILE, SO I KNOW I'M GONNA GET REVENGE, YEAH!'
Hermione listened, awed. 'I never knew You-Know-Who was a musician!' she said to Ron. Ron looked a little disappointed. Then said: 'Well, music is one of MY many talents, Hermy,' in what he obviously considered to be a seductive and winning voice.
Hermione opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by an unmistakeable snigger from George, who was, with Fred, hiding behind Ron's bedroom door and listening to their conversation. 'Shut up, George!' shouted Ron. 'Go away and stop hiding behind the . . . DOORS! DOORS!' and Ron relapsed into hysteria. Again.
Harry looked at Hermione blankly. 'What's so funny about doors?' he asked, bemused.
'Oh, nothing, Harry,' said Hermione, sounding stifled, and struggling to hold back her giggles. Pretty unsuccessfully. She collapsed onto the floor and joined Ron, wriggling with mirth. Harry blinked. Harry shrugged. Fred and George came in.
'What's wrong with them?' asked Fred.
'I wish I knew,' said Harry, sounding rather wise, but the effect was spoilt by the fact that his glasses now appeared to be wedged up his nostrils. He then continued to listen to the Howler.
'YOU ARE SO STUPID! IT'S UNBELIEVABLE. AND YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD A CHANCE AGAINST ME. SHOUTING AGAINST ME. I CAN SHOUT FAR TOO LOUDLY FOR YOUR LITTLE EARDRUMS, POTTER. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SEE? SEE HOW WRONG YOU WERE. YODEL-EH-I-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YODEL-EH-I-EEEEEEEEEE! KEEP AWAY FROM ME! WHEN I'M READY, I'LL COME FOR YOU, WITH PILCHARD, BUT UNTIL THEN, I'M BUSY PLOTTING AND DO NOT NOT NOT WANT TO BE DISTURBED BY MORONS WITH ISSUES!'
Fred whistled. George whistled. 'You must have really rattled him, Harry,' said Fred, impressed.
However, Harry was too busy trying to whistle to hear that last sentence. 'You can WHISTLE!' he said, deeply impressed.
'Er . . . yes. We can whistle,' said George, with a worried look at Fred.
'Can you teach me?' asked Harry, awed. 'Please? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? Pretty please with a cherry on top and chocolate sprinkles and extra cream and . . .'
'Er . . . OK,' said Fred, also looking worried. 'If you want . . .'
And to the background of Ron's hysteria, Hermione's nervous and sporadic giggles, and the Howler, which was still going strong, the twins tried to teach the fifteen-year-old Harry Potter to whistle. He unfortunately did not seem to possess natural aptitude. After the thirty-fourth strange wet bubbling sound, George said, 'Um . . . maybe you need a . . . rest, Harry. Maybe you can't whistle because you're too tired.'
'Could be,' said Harry wisely, nodding, then 'Ow!' as his glasses poked him up the nose. He looked at the flaming red envelope and noticed that it was nearly burnt up. But the voice continued as strong as ever.
'STOP SENDING ME LETTERS! DON'T STALK ME! KEEP AWAY FROM ME! OR I'LL SET PILCHARD ON YOU WHEN I'VE GOT HIM! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! YOU REALLY REALLY DO! BUT SHUT UP, AND KEEP AWAY, OR I'LL COME AND KILL YOU EARLIER THAN I THOUGHT I'D HAVE TO.' And for a grand finale, a final, loud, rendition of 'BOB THE BUILDER!' then the envelope crumpled into ash and the flames went out.
The room was suddenly quiet. Well, apart from Ron's insane laughing. Hermione had managed to virtually collect herself.
'Harry, maybe you should stop sending him Howlers,' said Fred, 'I mean, there's something . . . unhealthily obsessive about sending him so many letters.'
'Yeah,' said George. 'It is kind of . . . weird, Harry.'
'But he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' said Harry loudly.
Ron screamed and ran from the room. Hermione screamed and ran from the room.
'He really, really, ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'
Fred screamed and ran from the room. George screamed and ran from the room.
'He really really really does ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY me!'
The entire Weasley family evacuated the house, screaming.
Leaving Harry alone inside Ron's bright orange bedroom. Well, not quite alone. Because something was trying to get through a small window into the room. So Harry naively decided to open the bigger window and let it in (stupid boy). The It was actually a Them. Three big birds flew in through the window, and each carried a smoking red envelope in their beaks.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review! (
