(Disclaimer: As you have probably all figured out, I OWN NOTHING! I love love love love J.K. Rowling's books. And I LOVE FRED! YAY! Anyway, this is what happens after too much coffee. Please don't flog me. Oh, and for very f***ed up Harry Potter humor go to : http://happy_pony.tripod.com. Enjoy, and if you must flame, bring marshmallows, too. Yum!)
Mrs. Weasley took a deep, shaky breath. Screaming. All the time. That's all those damn kids did. And to think, everyone thought the Weasleys were "the perfect family". Sure, they weren't rich, but money doesn't buy happiness, right?
"Wrong," Mrs. Weasley mumbled, rolling up a joint. "A little money buys me my whisky and my drugs, and that is all the happiness I need." Now, all the Weasleys shared one bad habit: talking to themselves. If the children heard their mother muttering, they would think nothing of it. Nothing at all. She had been drinking ever since Bill's birth. Started up on drugs after Fred and George were born, those little brats, noisy, noisy, noisy they were.
She was so wrapped up in "the drama of her life" that she didn't even notice Bill jump out the window. She just sat there, drinking her booze, and smoking away. Bill was always running off. All the children knew he had a boyfriend, but they kept it quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley turned a blind eye to Bill's bikini's and rainbow socks.
A yell filled the Burrow, and there was a loud thumping noise, followed by wailing. Mrs. Weasley sighed, slid her chair back, and trudged upstairs. "Every single day," she roared. "I can never JUST SIT CAN I?!?!" In truth, Mrs. Weasley did nothing BUT sit. Sit around, drink, do drugs, it seemed. She stopped in front of the twins' room.
"OPEN!" she yelled, smashing the half-empty bottle of "Wicked Witch Whisky" on their door. Fred guiltily opened the door, just a crack. "ALL THE WAY!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. Fred opened it, just a little further. "Fred, if you don't open that door, I swear to GOD YOU WILL END UP IN ST.MUNGO'S!" Fred swung the door open. Mrs. Weasley gasped.
"DAMMIT! WHO MANY TIMES TO I HAVE TO TELL YOU! YOU ARE NOT TO TIE GEORGE TO A CHAIR AND KNOCK HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH A POTTED PLANT!" she shrieked, looking at the dazed, gagged George. "Good God, Fred! What will I do with the two of you?"
"Mum, he was standing over me with his wand. He was yellin' 'Avada Kedavero!' just to get me scared. Or 'Avada Kedavery!' or 'Avada Kedafera!' And so, I...um...knocked him out," Fred said, hanging his head.
"George, were you trying to kill your brother AGAIN?" Mrs. Weasley exploded. George nodded feebly. "URRRRGGHHH! I can't stand you two!" Mrs. Weasley yelled. "If there are any more death threats made, I'll tell your father!" She stormed down the hall. But, she forgot how to get back to the kitchen. She stopped at Percy's room instead.
She flung the door open and marched in. It was so messy. Tighty-whiteys hung from the ceiling, papers, pizza boxes, candies, and all sorts of junk littered the floor. Percy was asleep on the bed, beer belly hanging over his soiled underwear. He belched. There were owl feathers on his chest, and Hermes was mysteriously missing. Mrs. Weasley stormed out.
"Ginny!" she shrieked. "I'm lost again!" Ginny walked slowly out of her room, clutching a plastic knife. She was stroking the knife, whispering to it. She bared her teeth at her mother, and shoved her down the stairs. Plump Mrs. Weasley bounced into the kitchen. "Thanks!" she called.
Charlie was half-way in the window when she looked up. "WHERE WERE YOU LAST NIGHT!" she asked, noticing his pants were missing.
Charlie didn't care. "Spent the night with Blair, Chelsea, Andrea, Susan, Laura, Marie, and their other seven friends," he said, unabashed. "I think at least six of 'em are pregnant, though," he boasted. Mrs. Weasley glared at him.
"Get the HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT!" she yelled, and Charlie sauntered upstairs, probably to dick areound with the cat. There was another loud crash, Ron had fallen down the stairs.
"MAMA!" he yelled. "I fall doooooooowwwwnnnnnn!" He then began barking, foaming at the mouth, and twitching. Mrs. Weasley walked calmly over, and burned him with a cigarette. He stopped thrashing around, and sat as still as can be, drooling. "Retard!" Mrs. Weasley yelled at him. And then, she promptly passed out.
She came to a few hours later. Mr. Weasley was coming home. Marvelous. The door swung open, and Mr. Weasley walked in. "Molly?" he called. "Jesus, woman!" he yelled. "Did you drink the whole damn case of booze?" he yelled. He threw his briefcase at her, so she passed out again.
"BILL! CHARLIE! PERCY! FRED! GEORGE! RON! GINNY! GET DOWN HERE!" Mr. Weasley screamed. The children all raced downstairs. Well, except for Bill, who crawled through the window. They all lined up. "Bill," barked Mr. Weasley. "Get my beatin' sticks!" Bill ran out, and returned a few minutes later with an assortment of spatulas. All steel, the words 'Whuppin' Stick' were engraved on them.
"BEATEROSIA!" Mr. Weasley screamed. The spatulas beat all the children, while Mr. Weasley sat back, and laughed. After about ten minutes, the beating stopped.
"Go on, get, you damn rodents!" Mr. Weasley yelled. The children scattered. Mrs. Weasley sat up, rubbing her head.
"What the fresh hell?" she mumbled. She looked quizically at her husband. "What's going on?"
"You were saying you wanted to shag," he said, matter-of-factly. "Let's go then."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Okay, Arthur, but if I get pregnant again, I warn you...I'll use my severing charm!"
(YAY! Tune in again for the next chapter: THE TRUE HARRY POTTER: AKA NAUGHTY PUMPERNICKEL!)
Mrs. Weasley took a deep, shaky breath. Screaming. All the time. That's all those damn kids did. And to think, everyone thought the Weasleys were "the perfect family". Sure, they weren't rich, but money doesn't buy happiness, right?
"Wrong," Mrs. Weasley mumbled, rolling up a joint. "A little money buys me my whisky and my drugs, and that is all the happiness I need." Now, all the Weasleys shared one bad habit: talking to themselves. If the children heard their mother muttering, they would think nothing of it. Nothing at all. She had been drinking ever since Bill's birth. Started up on drugs after Fred and George were born, those little brats, noisy, noisy, noisy they were.
She was so wrapped up in "the drama of her life" that she didn't even notice Bill jump out the window. She just sat there, drinking her booze, and smoking away. Bill was always running off. All the children knew he had a boyfriend, but they kept it quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley turned a blind eye to Bill's bikini's and rainbow socks.
A yell filled the Burrow, and there was a loud thumping noise, followed by wailing. Mrs. Weasley sighed, slid her chair back, and trudged upstairs. "Every single day," she roared. "I can never JUST SIT CAN I?!?!" In truth, Mrs. Weasley did nothing BUT sit. Sit around, drink, do drugs, it seemed. She stopped in front of the twins' room.
"OPEN!" she yelled, smashing the half-empty bottle of "Wicked Witch Whisky" on their door. Fred guiltily opened the door, just a crack. "ALL THE WAY!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. Fred opened it, just a little further. "Fred, if you don't open that door, I swear to GOD YOU WILL END UP IN ST.MUNGO'S!" Fred swung the door open. Mrs. Weasley gasped.
"DAMMIT! WHO MANY TIMES TO I HAVE TO TELL YOU! YOU ARE NOT TO TIE GEORGE TO A CHAIR AND KNOCK HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH A POTTED PLANT!" she shrieked, looking at the dazed, gagged George. "Good God, Fred! What will I do with the two of you?"
"Mum, he was standing over me with his wand. He was yellin' 'Avada Kedavero!' just to get me scared. Or 'Avada Kedavery!' or 'Avada Kedafera!' And so, I...um...knocked him out," Fred said, hanging his head.
"George, were you trying to kill your brother AGAIN?" Mrs. Weasley exploded. George nodded feebly. "URRRRGGHHH! I can't stand you two!" Mrs. Weasley yelled. "If there are any more death threats made, I'll tell your father!" She stormed down the hall. But, she forgot how to get back to the kitchen. She stopped at Percy's room instead.
She flung the door open and marched in. It was so messy. Tighty-whiteys hung from the ceiling, papers, pizza boxes, candies, and all sorts of junk littered the floor. Percy was asleep on the bed, beer belly hanging over his soiled underwear. He belched. There were owl feathers on his chest, and Hermes was mysteriously missing. Mrs. Weasley stormed out.
"Ginny!" she shrieked. "I'm lost again!" Ginny walked slowly out of her room, clutching a plastic knife. She was stroking the knife, whispering to it. She bared her teeth at her mother, and shoved her down the stairs. Plump Mrs. Weasley bounced into the kitchen. "Thanks!" she called.
Charlie was half-way in the window when she looked up. "WHERE WERE YOU LAST NIGHT!" she asked, noticing his pants were missing.
Charlie didn't care. "Spent the night with Blair, Chelsea, Andrea, Susan, Laura, Marie, and their other seven friends," he said, unabashed. "I think at least six of 'em are pregnant, though," he boasted. Mrs. Weasley glared at him.
"Get the HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT!" she yelled, and Charlie sauntered upstairs, probably to dick areound with the cat. There was another loud crash, Ron had fallen down the stairs.
"MAMA!" he yelled. "I fall doooooooowwwwnnnnnn!" He then began barking, foaming at the mouth, and twitching. Mrs. Weasley walked calmly over, and burned him with a cigarette. He stopped thrashing around, and sat as still as can be, drooling. "Retard!" Mrs. Weasley yelled at him. And then, she promptly passed out.
She came to a few hours later. Mr. Weasley was coming home. Marvelous. The door swung open, and Mr. Weasley walked in. "Molly?" he called. "Jesus, woman!" he yelled. "Did you drink the whole damn case of booze?" he yelled. He threw his briefcase at her, so she passed out again.
"BILL! CHARLIE! PERCY! FRED! GEORGE! RON! GINNY! GET DOWN HERE!" Mr. Weasley screamed. The children all raced downstairs. Well, except for Bill, who crawled through the window. They all lined up. "Bill," barked Mr. Weasley. "Get my beatin' sticks!" Bill ran out, and returned a few minutes later with an assortment of spatulas. All steel, the words 'Whuppin' Stick' were engraved on them.
"BEATEROSIA!" Mr. Weasley screamed. The spatulas beat all the children, while Mr. Weasley sat back, and laughed. After about ten minutes, the beating stopped.
"Go on, get, you damn rodents!" Mr. Weasley yelled. The children scattered. Mrs. Weasley sat up, rubbing her head.
"What the fresh hell?" she mumbled. She looked quizically at her husband. "What's going on?"
"You were saying you wanted to shag," he said, matter-of-factly. "Let's go then."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Okay, Arthur, but if I get pregnant again, I warn you...I'll use my severing charm!"
(YAY! Tune in again for the next chapter: THE TRUE HARRY POTTER: AKA NAUGHTY PUMPERNICKEL!)