Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but I do own Assassin Bob."
"Hurry up Hermione!"
"Harry! Wait!"
"Come on Hermione, we're gonna be late for Care of Magical Creatures."
"I dropped my books!"
"I'm going, I'm not gonna be late," said Ron as he dashed off, "What the? Harry, Hermione, you better come look at this!"
"What is it Ron-"
"Ron what ar- what the heck is that?!"
Before them looked like a round purplish pool of water suspended in mid-air. Inside the pool was a stick-man, carrying a very long, thick, black sword. As all stick-men go he had a very stick like body with arms and legs jutting out at regular intervals, with a sheath on his waist, a very short neck on which sat an abnormally large head. Now this sheath was not as long as the sword nor as thick, and it looked like a stick thrust through his waist. Now his sword had to be at least twelve feet long and a six inches wide, now six inches in not very wide (or thick, I can't tell which way he is carrying it) for a normal sword, but since his body is no more than one inch wide, it is very wide. The sheath was only about five feet long and an inch wide (or thick).
"Ron touch it." said Harry.
"Why? Why not Hermione?"
"All in favor of Ron touching the thing, say aye."
"Aye."
"Aye."
"All not in favor say nay."
"Nay."
"Oops, looks like you got out voted Ron."
"Danggit." said Ron as he poked it. "Nothing, it doesn't do anything, come on do it!"
"You're right Ron, come on Hermione."
"Ok Harry, hey you guys, you lied! It's sucking me in!"
"What are you talking about?"
"I dunno Ron, hey she's right. Urrggg... it won't come out!"
"Whoa! Plarry! Plime plou ploust plin pla pa play!