Disclaimer: all disclaimers have sadly passed away.
Chapter Three
With thousands of hours behind her, Mrs. Weasley kept sewing faster than a herd of turtles trampling through a pile of peanut butter. She had originally had her magic sewing for her, but there was a devilishly good revolt among the underwear, so she had to continue on her own. She wouldn't have even been doing it if Dumbledore hadn't requested. I mean, once she heard about the unibrow fluctuation, how could she refuse?
Then suddenly without notice, the door burst open. Dumbledore strode in, carrying a huge brown sack behind him. With a few steps, and a little jig, he finally resigned to his old velvet chair.
"How are things, Mrs. Weasley?" He asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Oh, just jimmy," she said, putting a false smile upon her face. To be honest, she was about to fall over from all of the sewing. "What's in the bag?" She puffed from between breaths.
Dumbledore's face seemed to glow at that moment. "Well," he gleamed, "I was hoping you would ask that." And with one quick gesture, he pulled the bag open and dumped its contents onto the floor.
Mrs. Weasley stopped her sewing and gasped. "Dumbledore, who is this? I hope it's a relative, because maybe then this would be funny-"
Dumbledore let out a loud, frightening cackle as lightning flashed simultaneously. "Oh, no. This is actually a band man."
"...A what?"
"A-Band-Director. One who instructs those in the ways of music."
There was a silence. "Well, why is he here?" Mrs. Weasley scoffed slowly.
"Because, you silly goose, we can't have band without one. Surely, you didn't think I knew anything about band."
Silence.
Dumbledore coughed. "Well, I don't. Therefore, I will bring him to the meeting tomorrow and he will teach us everything we need to know."
Silence once again.
"By the way, you could have stopped sewing thirty-two hours ago when I left to throw them through windows." He smiled.
That was about the point when Mrs. Weasley made that face. THE FACE. You know, the one that started Pearl Harbor and the Holocaust. That's right, Hitler wasn't alone.
Well, the face started slowly from just an eye-twitch to an all out rage. Her face grew purple, and she grabbed one of the sweaters with two moose frolicking in the snow.
"Oh, what a lovely swe-" Dumbledore began, but the heads were quickly chewed off, and the arms began flying.
Dumbledore scurried. He took the body with him. He barely made it out alive, but sadly the moose were left behind.
THE NEXT DAY
THE MEETING
6:00 P.M.
62 Degrees and Clear, with the exception of strong winds.
Harry walked across the Quidditch fields a few minutes before he was originally meant to be there. He missed the view, the feeling, and the smell of the bludger as it practically changed you into a unich.
As he began to reminisce, he noticed Ginny standing only a few feet away. She must be here for the meeting, he thought, noticing her making strange symbols to other Sixth Years from where she was.
He came up behind her and gave her a quick tap on the shoulder. "Hey Ginny!"
Ginny screamed, ran in a circle, fell over, got back up, screamed, and yelped, "Tapioca!"
She then saw it was Harry and tried to regain her cool. "Oh, Harry. It's just you." She stammered.
"What's up?" He asked.
Ginny's eyes grew wide. "N-nothing, what are you talking about, why would anything be up?"
"Well, I don't know. I figured you would be doing something tonight. Did you forget about the meeting?"
"Meeting? I don't know what you're talking about, we don't-I mean, I don't- I mean what I said that you said that I meant that I don't, that's what!" She exploded, running off to the other side of the field. When she found the others, she told them to only attack if anything looked suspicious.
Something's not right, Harry thought. He thought maybe he offended, but after a sniff was wrong, so he sat down and waited for the others.
After only ten minutes, the entire Seventh Year class was there, but there weren't any Sixth Years to be found. Dumbledore soon arrived with a very strange looking guy.
"Hello everyone!" He took a quick look around. "Where are the Sixth Years?"
"I don't know," Harry stammered, "I asked Ginny about the meeting, and she acted like it wasn't even a reality."
"Well," Dumbledore pondered, "I guess we'll just have to start anyway. I would like everyone to meet Mr.Fertita. He is from America and is a very esteemed Band Director. He is here to train us into becoming a great band."
Mr. Tortilla, who was abnormally tall and thin, quickly stood once his name was announced. He was very handsome, with sandy hair and big, green eyes. "Hello." He smiled, though his smile seemed to be forced. He looked like he was very stern instead of kind, and that took some of the students aback.
To the sixth years, Mr. Fertati seemed very...suspicious.
"Um, professor," Draco began, trying to balance his tuba, "Is he...one of us?"
"Yes, of course I am." Turtle tot smiled. "I happen to be a trumpet player!"
Everyone looked around. Many thought that he meant he was a pimp.
When no one spoke, Dumbledore broke in. "Don't worry, everything will be explained soon. First, Kevin is going to put everyone in their place. He knows that we've never attempted this, and none of us are experienced in this. And no, Draco, he isn't."
Harry gasped. Ron gasped. Ginny gasped. Some guy in Finland dropped his ice cream.
"But don't worry!" Dumbledore whispered, so that Mr. Fer-uh-Fair- Tor....Kevin couldn't hear. "I've told him that we are a very average school, and we don't do magic. So, whatever you do, don't break our cover...or I will have to kill him."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the field Ginny and the others knew as well that he was a muggle. They always smell like quail, you know? Quickly, they came together and planned a secret attack on him after the meeting.
"I think it's great that we have an instructor," Ron said, "But sir, what's the name of our band?"
Dumbledore turned. "Our name? We have no name."
"NO NAME!?" Ron gasped. "Sir, that doesn't make any sense!"
Suddenly Dumbledore faced Ron. He had a nice hat turned backwards with some nice bling-bling. "I don't know dude. I think everyone's all jealous and stuff cuz I'm like the leader of a band dude
And I think everyone's got a problem with me dude.
And they need to take it up with me after the show..."
"Um, sir-"
"These chicks don't even know the name of my band.
But they're all on me like they wanna hold hands.
Cuz once I blow they know that i'll be the man.
All because I'm the leader of my band."
"Sir, there are no "Chicks" of which you speak-"
But that didn't stop him. The bling-bling began to shimmer. A boom box appeared. "So I get off stage right and drop the mic
Walk up to the hot chicks and I'm all like
"Sup shorty, my name's dumbledorey"
I'm the leader in No Band baby
They're all like "Oh my god it's him"
"Becky oh my god it's him"
"I swear to god dude you rock"
"Pleas please let me :CENSOR:"
And by now the rest of the fellas get jealous
Especially when I drop the beat and do my acapellas"
Everyone's ears began to bleed. Snape was banging his head against some random wall. "Please, stop!"
"All the chicks start yellin', all the hot babes
Throw their bras and their shirt and their panties on stage
So like every single night they pick a fight with me
But when we fight it's kinda like sibling rivalry
Cuz they're back on stage the next night with me
Dude I just think you're tryna steal the light from me
Yesterday Kuniva tried to pull a knife on me
Cause I told him Jessica Alba's my wife to be
This rock star stuff, it's the life for me."
And so that was the way it was for a few days. Several students made it through, but like the sweater, they died on the front. Some say that it was the only day Dumbledore really lived.
Some can't tell the tale.
Still, it makes you wonder where he got the silly song....
Chapter Three
With thousands of hours behind her, Mrs. Weasley kept sewing faster than a herd of turtles trampling through a pile of peanut butter. She had originally had her magic sewing for her, but there was a devilishly good revolt among the underwear, so she had to continue on her own. She wouldn't have even been doing it if Dumbledore hadn't requested. I mean, once she heard about the unibrow fluctuation, how could she refuse?
Then suddenly without notice, the door burst open. Dumbledore strode in, carrying a huge brown sack behind him. With a few steps, and a little jig, he finally resigned to his old velvet chair.
"How are things, Mrs. Weasley?" He asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Oh, just jimmy," she said, putting a false smile upon her face. To be honest, she was about to fall over from all of the sewing. "What's in the bag?" She puffed from between breaths.
Dumbledore's face seemed to glow at that moment. "Well," he gleamed, "I was hoping you would ask that." And with one quick gesture, he pulled the bag open and dumped its contents onto the floor.
Mrs. Weasley stopped her sewing and gasped. "Dumbledore, who is this? I hope it's a relative, because maybe then this would be funny-"
Dumbledore let out a loud, frightening cackle as lightning flashed simultaneously. "Oh, no. This is actually a band man."
"...A what?"
"A-Band-Director. One who instructs those in the ways of music."
There was a silence. "Well, why is he here?" Mrs. Weasley scoffed slowly.
"Because, you silly goose, we can't have band without one. Surely, you didn't think I knew anything about band."
Silence.
Dumbledore coughed. "Well, I don't. Therefore, I will bring him to the meeting tomorrow and he will teach us everything we need to know."
Silence once again.
"By the way, you could have stopped sewing thirty-two hours ago when I left to throw them through windows." He smiled.
That was about the point when Mrs. Weasley made that face. THE FACE. You know, the one that started Pearl Harbor and the Holocaust. That's right, Hitler wasn't alone.
Well, the face started slowly from just an eye-twitch to an all out rage. Her face grew purple, and she grabbed one of the sweaters with two moose frolicking in the snow.
"Oh, what a lovely swe-" Dumbledore began, but the heads were quickly chewed off, and the arms began flying.
Dumbledore scurried. He took the body with him. He barely made it out alive, but sadly the moose were left behind.
THE NEXT DAY
THE MEETING
6:00 P.M.
62 Degrees and Clear, with the exception of strong winds.
Harry walked across the Quidditch fields a few minutes before he was originally meant to be there. He missed the view, the feeling, and the smell of the bludger as it practically changed you into a unich.
As he began to reminisce, he noticed Ginny standing only a few feet away. She must be here for the meeting, he thought, noticing her making strange symbols to other Sixth Years from where she was.
He came up behind her and gave her a quick tap on the shoulder. "Hey Ginny!"
Ginny screamed, ran in a circle, fell over, got back up, screamed, and yelped, "Tapioca!"
She then saw it was Harry and tried to regain her cool. "Oh, Harry. It's just you." She stammered.
"What's up?" He asked.
Ginny's eyes grew wide. "N-nothing, what are you talking about, why would anything be up?"
"Well, I don't know. I figured you would be doing something tonight. Did you forget about the meeting?"
"Meeting? I don't know what you're talking about, we don't-I mean, I don't- I mean what I said that you said that I meant that I don't, that's what!" She exploded, running off to the other side of the field. When she found the others, she told them to only attack if anything looked suspicious.
Something's not right, Harry thought. He thought maybe he offended, but after a sniff was wrong, so he sat down and waited for the others.
After only ten minutes, the entire Seventh Year class was there, but there weren't any Sixth Years to be found. Dumbledore soon arrived with a very strange looking guy.
"Hello everyone!" He took a quick look around. "Where are the Sixth Years?"
"I don't know," Harry stammered, "I asked Ginny about the meeting, and she acted like it wasn't even a reality."
"Well," Dumbledore pondered, "I guess we'll just have to start anyway. I would like everyone to meet Mr.Fertita. He is from America and is a very esteemed Band Director. He is here to train us into becoming a great band."
Mr. Tortilla, who was abnormally tall and thin, quickly stood once his name was announced. He was very handsome, with sandy hair and big, green eyes. "Hello." He smiled, though his smile seemed to be forced. He looked like he was very stern instead of kind, and that took some of the students aback.
To the sixth years, Mr. Fertati seemed very...suspicious.
"Um, professor," Draco began, trying to balance his tuba, "Is he...one of us?"
"Yes, of course I am." Turtle tot smiled. "I happen to be a trumpet player!"
Everyone looked around. Many thought that he meant he was a pimp.
When no one spoke, Dumbledore broke in. "Don't worry, everything will be explained soon. First, Kevin is going to put everyone in their place. He knows that we've never attempted this, and none of us are experienced in this. And no, Draco, he isn't."
Harry gasped. Ron gasped. Ginny gasped. Some guy in Finland dropped his ice cream.
"But don't worry!" Dumbledore whispered, so that Mr. Fer-uh-Fair- Tor....Kevin couldn't hear. "I've told him that we are a very average school, and we don't do magic. So, whatever you do, don't break our cover...or I will have to kill him."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the field Ginny and the others knew as well that he was a muggle. They always smell like quail, you know? Quickly, they came together and planned a secret attack on him after the meeting.
"I think it's great that we have an instructor," Ron said, "But sir, what's the name of our band?"
Dumbledore turned. "Our name? We have no name."
"NO NAME!?" Ron gasped. "Sir, that doesn't make any sense!"
Suddenly Dumbledore faced Ron. He had a nice hat turned backwards with some nice bling-bling. "I don't know dude. I think everyone's all jealous and stuff cuz I'm like the leader of a band dude
And I think everyone's got a problem with me dude.
And they need to take it up with me after the show..."
"Um, sir-"
"These chicks don't even know the name of my band.
But they're all on me like they wanna hold hands.
Cuz once I blow they know that i'll be the man.
All because I'm the leader of my band."
"Sir, there are no "Chicks" of which you speak-"
But that didn't stop him. The bling-bling began to shimmer. A boom box appeared. "So I get off stage right and drop the mic
Walk up to the hot chicks and I'm all like
"Sup shorty, my name's dumbledorey"
I'm the leader in No Band baby
They're all like "Oh my god it's him"
"Becky oh my god it's him"
"I swear to god dude you rock"
"Pleas please let me :CENSOR:"
And by now the rest of the fellas get jealous
Especially when I drop the beat and do my acapellas"
Everyone's ears began to bleed. Snape was banging his head against some random wall. "Please, stop!"
"All the chicks start yellin', all the hot babes
Throw their bras and their shirt and their panties on stage
So like every single night they pick a fight with me
But when we fight it's kinda like sibling rivalry
Cuz they're back on stage the next night with me
Dude I just think you're tryna steal the light from me
Yesterday Kuniva tried to pull a knife on me
Cause I told him Jessica Alba's my wife to be
This rock star stuff, it's the life for me."
And so that was the way it was for a few days. Several students made it through, but like the sweater, they died on the front. Some say that it was the only day Dumbledore really lived.
Some can't tell the tale.
Still, it makes you wonder where he got the silly song....