HARRY POTTER AND THE SEAGULL OF DOOM

(Authors' Note: This fic is based off of a very strange conversation between Lindsey and Sarah. Naturally, we had to turn it into a Harry Potter fanfic because that's the kind of people we are. It's unclear if this is a one-chapter thing or if we're going to continue it.I suppose it depends on the reviews and stuff. So be a pal and review!)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to us.but Lindsey's birthday is in a month. We'll update and let you know how that ends up.

Harry awoke with a start, a cold sweat covering his body. He grabbed his glasses and sighed in relief. He was still in his dorm.

He had just woken up from a strange and disturbing dream. Harry crossed to the window to gaze out across the lake at the pale moonlight when his scar began to burn.

Harry gasped again. This could only mean one thing. Bolting down the stairs and down the dark hallways to Dumbledore's office, Harry realized he didn't know the new password.

"Um. Lemon Drops, Fudge, Blood Lollypops.. I don't know! I need to get in!" hollered Harry, putting his head in his hands "God, I need some rum!"

With that final word the door opened. "Whoa. the password is rum?" he questioned one of the gargoyles. The sleepy gargoyle shrugged.

Harry climbed the twisted staircase to find Dumbledore's office darkened. Harry opened the second door that led him to a smaller, darker room. There a loud rattling snore shook the windowpanes.

"Sir." Harry called in the darkness, "Professor Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore grunted.

"Please sir, it's important!" Harry said frantically.

"What is it Potter?" wheezed the old sleeping man.

"I. had a dream sir,"

Dumbledore grunted incoherently.

"I.. Dreamt that Lord Voldemort had turned me into a seagull sir," Harry said. "And then my scar was twitching. so I came to you."

"Potter," snapped Professor Dumbledore, pulling his nightcap over his eyes. "It's 3:24 in the morning. Shut the hell up and go back to sleep!"

"But sir. my dream must be that the Dark Lord is going to try some evil scheme this year involving. seagulls," Harry finished weakly.

"Potter. go back to bed," Dumbledore demanded.

"But sir!"

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" Dumbledore roared. Defeated by an elderly man wearing Sponge-Bob Square pants pajamas, Harry turned to the corridors.

Harry wandered the corridors aimlessly for about 10 minutes. He found himself back in his room. He shook his best friend, Ron awake.

Ron would understand. Harry knew for sure.

"Ron," asked Harry seriously as he shook his pal awake. "Have you ever been worried you would wake up one morning as a seagull?"

Ron pondered for a moment. "Not until now, no," he answered.

"But if you did wake up as a seagull, what would you do?" persisted Harry.

Ron shrugged. "Probably share the bread of an old homeless man or hang out in the parking lot behind McDonalds. What about you?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

Harry ignored his question. "But would you try to regain your human form or would you accept the fact that you were doomed to remain a seagull and merely dream about your days as a human boy?"

Ron shook his head in the darkness. "No, I'd probably just be a plain, basic stupid pigeon and accept it right off.

"Seagull," corrected Harry.

"Be quiet," snapped Seamus. "Merlin, Harry. It's three in the morning." He flopped over and went back to sleep.

"But Ron, let's say you have the same brain that you do now, only you're in a seagull's body. What would you do?" continued Harry eagerly.

Ron sighed. "Harry, look. I'm a bloody seagull."

"Yes." agreed Harry. "You are a seagull."

Ron paused and thought for a moment. "That's a scary thought."

"Ron, these are dark times we're living in. We have to prepared for everything," pointed out Harry.

Ron gave a shallow laugh. "Constant Vigilance."

"Too true," agreed Harry. "Tomorrow morning, what are you going to do if you wake up as a seagull?"

"I'd probably peck out your eyeballs, cause it will most likely be your doing," yawned Ron as he glanced at his clock. Why won't he let me go to sleep, he pondered.

"It's the Dark Lord's doing," commented Harry. "His new plan.he wants to transfigure us all into animals. Not all at one time," he corrected himself. "Just his opposers and muggle-borns." He caught his breath and added shakily, "and I'm pretty high up on his opposers list."

"So You-Know-Who's new plan is to slowly turn all his oppressors into seagulls," commented Ron in disbelief.

"Exactly," praised Harry, pleased his friend was catching on

"So he's going to turn you into a seagull," said Ron tiredly.

"Yes!" insisted Harry. "Ron, I can read his thoughts! My dreams are always his thoughts!"

"Right," added Ron as he buried his face in his pillow.

"I dreamed that I became a seagull and kept pecking at the window but you wouldn't let me in because you thought I was simply an irritating bird."

"How would I have known you weren't an irritating bird?" asked Ron.

"That's my whole point!" exclaimed Harry quietly. "What do we do if we're turned into seagulls?"

"Well, uh.can we speak English?" asked Ron dumbly.

"No. Seagulls can't talk," informed Harry.

"Well, I don't rightly know then. How about we sleep on it and decide in the morning?" suggested Ron.

"It could be too late," said Harry ominously. "One of us could already be a seagull." His eyes lit up figuratively. "What we need is.a code." He looked puzzled. "What should our code be?"

"How about flapping our wings?" asked a weary Ron.

Harry dismissed the idea. "Every seagull flaps wings, Ron. You'd be adopting every seagull from here to Surry thinking it was me."

"This would be so much easier if we could talk," observed Ron.

"But we can't talk, Ron. Seagulls can't talk. Deal with it."

"Ron Weasley can speak English, Why can't Ron Weasley the Seagull speak English?" asked a very weary Ron.

"Because SEAGULLS CAN'T TALK. It's just something they are physically unable to do."

"Well once," Ron started slowly, "I thought I saw a talking seagull... does that count?"

"You're not a talking seagull! You're a plain old seagull with the brain of Ron Weasley!" Harry roared, "So," he took a deep, cleansing breath, "What should our code be?"

"We need a signal.like a noise we could recognize each other by," planned Harry. For half past three, he was surprisingly upbeat and chipper when it came to planning.

"Do seagulls make noise?"

"They chirp.Alright Ron," he decided. "If we ever see a seagull chirping "Oh Mandy," we'll know it's one of us." He looked very satisfied with himself.

"What if I forget the tune in my state of shock?" questioned Ron, who was suddenly concerned with the What To Do's if turned into a seagull. "You'll never do that. Everyone knows "Oh Mandy."

"Harry, I think we need something more common. Something more seagull-y," protested Ron.

"It can't be seagull-y," pointed out Harry, settling into his bed. "It needs to be something unique."

"But if I was a seagull, you'd know it was me!" objected Ron. He gazed at The Boy Who Lived. "You would look into my eyes and see a memory," he added tearfully. "The laughing eyes of memories past; of Malfoy the bouncing ferret, of countless heated nights of Quidditch at my home."

Harry rolled over to look at his emotional friend. "Ron, have you been sniffing my white out again?" he inquired. "You know what that stuff does to you."

"Right," agreed Ron. "So I'm supposed to sing Oh Mandy?" He rolled his eyes. "We'll talk later. In the MORNING."

"Morning, just another day," hummed Harry quietly. "Happy people pass my way, looking in their eyes I see a memory." He paused and realized he was approaching the chorus. "I never realized how happy you made me, Oh Mandy."

"Well, you came and you gave without taking," chimed in Ron tranquilly. "But I sent you away, Oh Mandy. When you kiss me, you stop me form shaking." He lay down on his back and listened to Harry chime in the forlorn last line.

"And I need you today, Oh Mandy," he intoned desolately. "So do you promise, Ron Weasley that if you ever see a seagull chirping "Oh Mandy", you'll adopt it and try to make it human?"

"What if it's a pigeon?"

"Any bird," amended Harry.

"I do solemnly swear," swore Ron. "And do you, Harry Potter?"

"I do," swore Harry.

And then Harry slunk back into his fitful slumber.

But in the farthest corner of the room, on the mattress of the tallest, dark in the darkest corner, the guy lay there and listened. His robes were engulfed in darkness, his pillow; his entire ensemble lay there in the blackness. But the most darkness of all was in his eyes.

Dark and callous and heartless.