"Shhh… be vewy, vewy quiet," Cathy murmured into her lover's ear as the two of them followed Joseph and the group of wizards around Wuthering Heights. "We're hunting prospective buyers!"
"Excellent!" Heathcliff said under his breath, trying in vain to tap his fingers together. "Sweet revenge is mine!" He cackled evilly.
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"An' 'ees hair bay th' kaysh'n… lairvly aintake stave…"
"I dunno, Harry…" Ron whispered in his friend's ear as Joseph prattled on and Hermione, Neville, and Remus pretended, not only to understand what the old man was saying, but also to care. "Do you think it'll be big enough for the house elves?"
"Ron," Harry whispered back, "they're house elves. They'll be happy if we don't make them eat boomslang skin!"
Ron chuckled. "More than happy! They'll likely declare it a holiday!"
Hermione shot him a glare.
"Aw, come off it, Hermione," Ron grinned, "You know we love the little buggers as much as you do!"
"Sure you do," Hermione giggled at the sensation of Ron's face in her hair.
"Niff ye lake oot 'ees waindoor, ear bay un lairvly voo uvda stybull… 'n air ees th' kaw! Aye larks date kaw, aye days. Kaw kaw kaw!"
Suddenly, the young wizards found themselves being assaulted by projectile bowls of the porridge-like slop that Joseph lived off of.
"PEEVES!!" Hermione shrilled as a mess of it hit the back of her neck with a squelchy glopping noise.
Joseph whirled around to face her angrily. "Air ye nawt larsnin t'may? Dint ye warnt t'now wait ye kin ooz 'e Wuthrin Haits fayr?"
Heathcliff and Cathy set to ungodly moaning and groaning and wailing and singing of "Day-o," so that everyone had to plug their ears as best they could, despite the irresistible urge to dance.
"Of course they were listening, sir!" Remus said loudly over the din, trying to grin agreeably, even as he was showered in copious amounts of beer.
Joseph, not willing to believe Remus, started to throw cobwebby odds-and-ends that littered the kitchen.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione glowered in the most thoroughly unforgiving way possible at him. Neville would have done the same, but he was bawling over his involuntary muscle movements to the tune of "Come Mr. Tally-man, tally me bananas."
"Oh, if only we had lobsters that could grab their faces!" lamented Catherine.
"Keep singing, wench, keep singing, or I shall have to strike you!" Heathcliff bellowed, sending as much porridge-like slop flying across the kitchen as he could.
"Please do strike me, Heathcliff, dearest! Cathy's been a bad, bad girl!"
"Aye ullna bay sailun me laind t'hartakes!" Joseph hollered.
"Guys, I don't want to buy a house with a poltergeist!" Neville blubbered, "Won't the kids be scared?"
"Har har har!" Joseph laughed at poor, frightened Neville, a rather comic sight in itself. He would have continued laughing, except that Heathcliff sent the old man's beloved cow flying into the room like a mooing, milk-giving missile. Mrs. Tocci would have said that this demonstrated Heathcliff's humanity and all the goodness that was really locked away inside him because Neville was saved from torment at the hands of a man who couldn't say a coherent word in English, but really Heathcliff had simply run out of porridge-like slop to throw, and everyone knows that a cow is the next best thing to throw after porridge-like slop!
As the mooing, milk-giving missile nearly missed decapitating him, Joseph wet himself. "YER AWL GUN T'DIVUL!!" he boomed, fist raised to the sky.
"We already went to the devil and back, Joseph! We're in no hurry to return! He did say he was waiting for you, though!" Heathcliff laughed maniacally. (He can act like a lunatic! Another example of his humanity! It shows his susceptibility to mental illness, just like everyone else!)
Hermione shook her head, "This is madness!" Pointing her wand at Heathcliff and Cathy, she called out, "Petrificus totalus!"
Both ghosts hovered a couple feet off the ground in full body binds.
"Thank goodness it worked… one can rarely work spells on ghosts…" She wiped her brow and stared at the wreckage that was once a kitchen. Empty liquor bottles were strewn about, many smashed into jagged shards. Porridge-like slop covered everything. The few pieces of furniture that there had been lay battered and broken on the floor. Even the walls didn't look very sturdy. In the middle of it all stood a bewildered cow, with Joseph's arms around her neck.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Never mind heretics. I'd be surprised if anyone bought Wuthering Heights now… I don't think you can afford to be picky."
"Nure kin ye! 'Oo braked ate, 'oo bate ate!"
"We broke it, we bought it?!" Even Remus was aghast. "That rule does not apply to real estate, Mr. Joseph, sir!"
"Yase ate durse! Ye naw hairfter parechose Wuthrin Haits, Thurshcrows Grarnge, 'nd ayvrithain unsade! Sookars! Har har har!" Joseph laughed in pride at his great abilities as a salesman, before turning his attention back to the cow, "Kaw kaw kaw!"
The wizards (and witch) were fuming. It looked as though they finally had their school. The building was even fully furnished, complete with angry, anorexic, sex fiend ghosts! Wuthering Heights was the second worst place on earth where a school should be located (the first, of course, being the Academy of the Holy Names.)
They had their school, and they didn't want it.
(Get Up, Come On, Come On, Let's Go, There's Just a Few Things I Think That You Should Know: I don't own Elmer Fudd or any of his mannerisms, The Simpsons, Mr. Burns, or any of his mannerisms. Nor do I own "Day-o," or the infamous dancing scene in "Beetlejuice." I am also a strong advocate against cruelty to cows and house elves, the eating of porridge-like slop, and the "you break it, you buy it" rule.)
