Okay, people, chapter 2 is up! And yeah, I know, I forgot the damn
disclaimer last time, so here it is:
Disclaimer: Contrary to what some people may believe to due the absence of a certain disclaimer, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER PEOPLE! Oh yeah, and I don't own Thomas the Tank Engine either, or McDonald's. Or insecticide. But that would be coolio. Jesus. So, enjoy chapter two,
Chapter 2: The Hogwarts Express
Soon after his adventures in Diagon Ally, Harry received a letter by owl that was clearly written by Rabid because it was completely covered in blood. Harry tried to wipe off the blood and read the message, but even then it was hard because Rabid was kind of illiterate. The note said "Summat train erghhg September the first rowrrrr Hogwarts falygin 11:00 jabbybutt platform 9&3/4 yummmmm manflesh growrrr". Harry did not understand this at all. In the end he decided the platform number was 11 and he should be there by 9: 45, which was ¾ after 9 o'clock. After all, Rabid couldn't have meant that the platform number was 9&3/4. "Har de har har," Harry guffawed heartily at breakfast. "What rubbish!"
So he turned to his aunt and uncle, busy eating human organs, and asked them, "Can you take me to King's Cross on September the first? I need a ride to platform eleven." His aunt did not reply, but Dudley came over and tried to pull off his scalp to get to his brain Harry took that as a yes.
On September the first, Harry's family drove him to King's Cross in the car that had originally belonged to their neighbors, whose souls Petunia and Vernon has eaten. After five crashes and six broken mailboxes, they finally arrived and dropped Harry off silently. He took his trunk full of the crap he'd bought in Diagon Alley and stuffed a slightly purple Betsy into his pocket. Harry waited and waited. No train came to platform eleven. "Son of a—er, uh, gun," Harry yelled, throwing his trunk into the wall. "Where the hell is that friggin' train, for shitsakes!"
A fat policemen came over. "What's the problem, laddie?" he asked in an Irish accent.
"The train won't come!" Harry whined, now lying on the ground banging his fists against it.
"Well, laddie, when you're blue, there's only ONE thing to do!" The cop pulled off his mask. Under it was a clown with red hair and white face paint. "Put a smile on, put a smile on!" The insane clown sang. Then he pulled out a machine gun and started shooting into the air. "Eeeheeeheeheee!" he cackled.
"Er," Harry muttered, very confused, and edged away. In fact he edged away so much, he had backed up into platform ten. So he changed direction, edged away again, and ran into someone. Something fell out of their pocket. Harry picked it up and was about to go scream at the plump redhead woman when he saw what had fallen out of her pocket. It was a magazine called "Witches Gone Wild, Straight from Pornogon Alley" with half naked women on the cover. "Er, I think this is yours," he told the woman. She snatched it up and put it away. "Are you a witch?" he asked.
"Yes" she said, embarrased. "Oh look here's your train. She shoved some teenage redheads who'd appeared out of nowhere into the wall. They disappeared through it. "Off you go!" she cried and shoved Harry through as well. He barely had time to see a small girl standing by her, whose name was Ginny, but that's OK because she is unimportant and has no personality. When he came out of the wall, he saw a large blue train with a friendly face. "THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE?!" he cried. The train smiled. "Yes," he said. "It's me. All aboard." Just then Harry saw two plastic conductors fly out of the driver's compartment. Rabid's hairy, slobbery face shot out of the window. "Hello, kids! I'll be your driver for today!" He began frothing. Harry boarded the train and sat next to one of the redhead kids that the woman had shoved into the wall, a girl with short hair and a hot pink dress.
"Hey there," Harry said in his lowest voice and winked.
"Hello," the girl answered in in a voice lower than his. "I'm Ron, who are you?" Harry stared in horror at the boy—girl—it?
"Eh? Oh, I'm Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?!" Ron cried out, smoothing the frills on his dress. Harry perked up. Even if the only person who heard of him was some crossdresser kid, at least someone acknowledged the tragic little hero he was. "I think I remember that name," Ron continued. Then he blushed. "Aren't you the guy....did you....did we kinda, er, mess around under the table at my parent's New Year's Eve party last year?"
Harry slammed his fists against his knees in rage. "No!" he yelled. "I'm—a—famous—HERO—GODDAMIT!"
"Well, that's weird," Ron said. "I've never heard of you."
"ARRRRRGH!" Harry yelled. Just then two more redheaded kids walked. "Hey Ron," they said.
"Oh, hey. Harry, these are my twin brothers, Freddie—"he indicated the one on the left, who was wearing a striped shirt and waved at Harry, claws bursting out of his hand—"and Jason." Jason grinned evilly as he put a hockey mask over his face and pulled out a long knife. "Jason, Freddie, this is Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?!" Freddie cried. "That's amazing!" Harry grinned smugly. "However did you grow your arms back after Jason cut them off at last year's New Year's Eve party?"
"Arrrrgh!" Harry cried. "I wasn't at that goddamn party! And—and—"Harry tried to find a good insult, but all he could come up with was—"and you're POOR!" Ron immediately burst into tears. Freddie and Jason brandished their knife and claws threateningly. Harry squeaked in fear. "Uh, sorry, Ron, I didn't mean it," he said quickly.
"OK, we're off to go kill horny teenagers at some camp. We'll be back later," Jason said, voice muffled by his mask. He and Freddie left and Harry could breathe again.
Just then, the compartment door slid open and a girl with a giant beaver on her head walked in. She sat across from them and said, "Hullo, I'm Hermione, have you seen Neville's frog?" Harry and Ron shook their heads. Ron took out his wand to polish it on his dress, and she said, "Oh, do some magic!" she cried, her gigantic front teeth wobbling. Ron waved the wand and said "Freebeaverius!" The beaver on Hermione's head squirmed frantically and pulled backwards. "Ow, what are you doing?" she cried, clutching at the beaver.
"Just trying to get that beaver off your head," Ron said.
"That's my HAIR!" Hermoine shrilled, and began sobbing. "You think it looks like a BEAVER?" she said through tears. Harry chose this time to point out again that Ron was poor, and Ron began crying hysterically as well. Then Harry joined in, unable to believe the fact that his only friends were a cross-dresser with scary brothers and a girl that looked like a beaver. "Waaaaaa," they all wailed together. Then ANOTHER person walked into the compartment.
"Look, it's Neville," Hermione said. "Every series needs some pathetic loser kid that the hero must save from mean bullies. Huh, and I was sure it would have been you, Ron." They all began chuckling heartily at poor fat Neville Longbottom. Said chuckling kept on until they heard Rabid's voice on the PA. "Would all the—unhhhhhh—mmmmmm—overweight plump children please come to the driver's compartment?" he said drooling. Neville gave a terrified squeak and ran to the front of the train. Harry had a strange feeling that they would never see Neville again. But he forgot about all that when he saw the rat crawling out of Ron's trunk.
"Eek!" Harry squealed. "A rat!" He jumped on top of Ron's head, trying to keep his ankles away from the rat. "Oh, the terror," Harry gibbered. "The utter, utter terror!"
Ron said, "Relax, Harry, it's just my old rat Scabbers. Nothing suspicious, dangerous, or imposter-ish about him, no sir, nothing...nope."
The rest of the train ride was pretty uneventful. Then as they approached Hogwarts, cool, suave Draco Malfoy entered Harry's compartment in a cool, suave way, all the while coolly, suavely slicking his hair back with cool, suave gel. Harry regarded him with narrow eyes—he still hadn't forgotten what Malfoy had said about Cheezits. Malfoy was accompanied by two strange looking creatures—one with eight legs and the other with horns sticking out of his head.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"Ha-ha-ha, Potter. I can go where I please. Oh, where are my manners?" He indicated his two cronies. "This is Crab, and this is Gargoyle."
They then spouted insults back and forth, which turned into a fistfight involving Harry hurtling Malfoy through the train window into the lake and Malfoy jumping back in to strangle Harry. Matrix moves were overused and a hearty, macho good time was had by all. Then they arrived at Hogwarts, where the proper authorities—Rabid, that is, who was looking quite full—took charge and broke up the fight. Then everyone rowed across the lake. Harry waved goodbye to Thomas the Tank Engine, while Ron screamed for the engine's autograph. "Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione scoffed. "Thomas has no hands! How could he give you his autograph?" Ron's face contorted angrily.
"I hate you!" he sobbed. "You crushed all my dreams!" which explains the animosity between himself and Hermione. Harry sighed in exasperation as Hermione stared haughtily at the sobbing Ron, and wondered if he could use his magic powers to go back in time and get normal friends, which got him thinking if he could go back in time and kill Voldemort while he was small and defenseless, which got him thinking the same thing about Hitler, which got him thinking that if he didn't get out of the boat soon, everyone would leave him behind and he'd die alone and stranded on the lake, which got him to get out of the boat.
"Come on, then Harry!" Rabid called, blood streaking his wild beard. "Time for the Sorting."
They entered Hogwarts, which was like a big castle in the middle of nowhere. They gazed in awe at the ceiling. "It's enchanted to drop knives," Hermione said. Then they all had to stop gazing in awe because of the knives raining down on them.
"I hope this is temporary," Harry growled, starting to get angry again. They walked into the dining hall. Five long troughs were arranged around the room, one green, one red, one yellow, one blue, and one very large one on a raised platform at which sat a bunch of old smelly people with funny hats. One of them stood up—a wizard with purple robes and a long white beard, and merry eyes twinkling behind giant golden pilot goggles. "Rabid! So good to have you back!" he cried, and threw a long dagger at Rabid.
"Great man, Dumbledore," Rabid said in awe, pulling the dagger out of his forehead and joining the old man at the Head Trough, who was now throwing fruits at the witch next to him. The witch stood up. "Welcome, first- years," she said in a bored tone and pulled out a cigarette. "I'm Professor McGonagall, yadda yadda, welcome to Hogwarts, let's have a great year, blah blah blah. Ah, ever since the house-elves went on strike we've had to cook for ourselves so you'll be eating lima bean soup the entire year." The students gave the teachers sad looks. "Whaaaat?" she asked. "They're the only things that grow here. Anyways, Rabid ate the Sorting Hat last year, so we have picked an alternate way to sort you." She lit her cigarette and stuck it in her mouth. Taking a long drag, she said in the same dull voice, "Get ready to-o-o-o-o-o-o-o RUMBLE...."
A boxing ring rose out of the floor as spotlights shone down from the ceiling. McGonagall, voice magnified magically, said, "To see which house you'll be in, YOU will have to WRESTLE—a TROLL!!" McGonagall paused and looked at a corner of the ring. "A TROLLLLLL!" she said again. Then she said, "Where's the troll?" Rabid, troll limbs dangling out of his mouth, looked down in shame. "Oh, Rabid," she sighed exasperatedly. "Well, since Rabid ate the troll, I guess we need another way to sort you. Oh, god, I hate this goddamn job." She took another suck at her cigarette.
After a while, the teachers decided to just sort the students with a complicated tactic: Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Mo. By sheer luck, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all sorted into Gryffindor, and the rest of the students were also sorted into appropriate houses. "Huzzah!" Freddie and Jason cried.
Everyone sat and feasted. "I say, Prissy," Harry said to Ron's older brother as he took a hearty sip from his bottle, "this wizard drink is really smashing, old boy."
"That would be insecticide, Harry," Prissy said. Harry, who was not good with big words and had no idea what 'insecticide' was, nodded and took another swig. All around people were eating from the troughs and drinking from the bottles on the floor. Suddenly a bunch of pearly white people floated in through the wall. Everyone gasped. One ghost with old-timey clothes and a ruff around his neck floated over to where Harry sat with Ron, Prissy, and Hermione. "Hullo, hullo, children," the ghost introduced himself. "I am Sir Nicholas, your house ghost."
"Hey!" Ron cried. "I know you! You're Nearly Cockless Nick!" Nick growled at this nick name.
"Nearly Cockless?" Hermione said shrilly. "How can you be Nearly Cockless?"
"Like this." And Nick took off his pants and showed the Gryffindors how he was nearly cockless. Hermione screamed.
"Great," Harry muttered. "Our house ghost is a sex offender." Luckily, McGonagall had located a broomstick and chased the perverted ghost out of the hall.
Harry saw some guy glaring at him from across the room, at the Head Trough. He wasn't actually sure if it was a guy at all, though. It looked more like a giant hooked nose on legs. "Who's that?" Harry asked Prissy, his stomach churning from the 'insecticide'.
"Oh, that's Professor Snape. He may or may not be evil, and he may or may not be trying to kill you."
Harry blinked stupidly. "Waaaaa?" But then Dumbledore stood up for the speech. "Welcome to Hogwarts, children!" Then he threw his arms around and yelled "Oooooogy-boooooogy-boogy! Please don't go in the third floor corridor, and the Forbidden Forest is open for all!" McGonagall whispered something in his ear. "Oh, er, scratch that, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden for all, har de har har har. Now. Let's sing the Hogwarts song, which will conveniently be forgotten and unmentioned in every other of Harry's years at Hogwarts." They then sang the Hogwarts song, which I cannot write down because I have conveniently forgotten it. Dumbledore continued, "One more announcement: I am now officially changing my name to Nancy. Now off you go for bed. Flibbergibbet!"
As Harry and Ron trundled off to bed, they could hear Rabid roaring, "Great man, Nancy."
Bed turned out to be a small rickety wooden cot set against the wall for each Gryffindor. Their bedroom was wide and smelly and there were dead house-elves strewn on the floor. Neville had come to bed early, looking a bit more metallic than usual and Harry noticed the nuts and bolts attaching his joints together. Neville was sitting on his cot with his eyes closed. When Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean came in, Neville slowly brought up his head and said, "Hello, fellow Hogwarts students. I am pleased with your company."
"Neville?" Dean asked, bewildered. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. It made a clanging sound. Everyone looked around nervously as Neville stretched out robotically on his cot, made a beeping noise, and said in a monotone voice, "Prepare system shut down...shutdown completed."
"Er," Harry said. He then spent the rest of the night reflecting on his day. But then he had to stop and throw up all over a dead house-elf when the insecticide caught up with him.
--------------------
That's it for Chapter Dos! Read and review! If you don't review then you are, a—a—a thief! You're stealing! Shame on you. It's not like it's hard. A simple "Good job" or "you suck" would suffice. Toodle-oo.
Disclaimer: Contrary to what some people may believe to due the absence of a certain disclaimer, I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER PEOPLE! Oh yeah, and I don't own Thomas the Tank Engine either, or McDonald's. Or insecticide. But that would be coolio. Jesus. So, enjoy chapter two,
Chapter 2: The Hogwarts Express
Soon after his adventures in Diagon Ally, Harry received a letter by owl that was clearly written by Rabid because it was completely covered in blood. Harry tried to wipe off the blood and read the message, but even then it was hard because Rabid was kind of illiterate. The note said "Summat train erghhg September the first rowrrrr Hogwarts falygin 11:00 jabbybutt platform 9&3/4 yummmmm manflesh growrrr". Harry did not understand this at all. In the end he decided the platform number was 11 and he should be there by 9: 45, which was ¾ after 9 o'clock. After all, Rabid couldn't have meant that the platform number was 9&3/4. "Har de har har," Harry guffawed heartily at breakfast. "What rubbish!"
So he turned to his aunt and uncle, busy eating human organs, and asked them, "Can you take me to King's Cross on September the first? I need a ride to platform eleven." His aunt did not reply, but Dudley came over and tried to pull off his scalp to get to his brain Harry took that as a yes.
On September the first, Harry's family drove him to King's Cross in the car that had originally belonged to their neighbors, whose souls Petunia and Vernon has eaten. After five crashes and six broken mailboxes, they finally arrived and dropped Harry off silently. He took his trunk full of the crap he'd bought in Diagon Alley and stuffed a slightly purple Betsy into his pocket. Harry waited and waited. No train came to platform eleven. "Son of a—er, uh, gun," Harry yelled, throwing his trunk into the wall. "Where the hell is that friggin' train, for shitsakes!"
A fat policemen came over. "What's the problem, laddie?" he asked in an Irish accent.
"The train won't come!" Harry whined, now lying on the ground banging his fists against it.
"Well, laddie, when you're blue, there's only ONE thing to do!" The cop pulled off his mask. Under it was a clown with red hair and white face paint. "Put a smile on, put a smile on!" The insane clown sang. Then he pulled out a machine gun and started shooting into the air. "Eeeheeeheeheee!" he cackled.
"Er," Harry muttered, very confused, and edged away. In fact he edged away so much, he had backed up into platform ten. So he changed direction, edged away again, and ran into someone. Something fell out of their pocket. Harry picked it up and was about to go scream at the plump redhead woman when he saw what had fallen out of her pocket. It was a magazine called "Witches Gone Wild, Straight from Pornogon Alley" with half naked women on the cover. "Er, I think this is yours," he told the woman. She snatched it up and put it away. "Are you a witch?" he asked.
"Yes" she said, embarrased. "Oh look here's your train. She shoved some teenage redheads who'd appeared out of nowhere into the wall. They disappeared through it. "Off you go!" she cried and shoved Harry through as well. He barely had time to see a small girl standing by her, whose name was Ginny, but that's OK because she is unimportant and has no personality. When he came out of the wall, he saw a large blue train with a friendly face. "THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE?!" he cried. The train smiled. "Yes," he said. "It's me. All aboard." Just then Harry saw two plastic conductors fly out of the driver's compartment. Rabid's hairy, slobbery face shot out of the window. "Hello, kids! I'll be your driver for today!" He began frothing. Harry boarded the train and sat next to one of the redhead kids that the woman had shoved into the wall, a girl with short hair and a hot pink dress.
"Hey there," Harry said in his lowest voice and winked.
"Hello," the girl answered in in a voice lower than his. "I'm Ron, who are you?" Harry stared in horror at the boy—girl—it?
"Eh? Oh, I'm Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?!" Ron cried out, smoothing the frills on his dress. Harry perked up. Even if the only person who heard of him was some crossdresser kid, at least someone acknowledged the tragic little hero he was. "I think I remember that name," Ron continued. Then he blushed. "Aren't you the guy....did you....did we kinda, er, mess around under the table at my parent's New Year's Eve party last year?"
Harry slammed his fists against his knees in rage. "No!" he yelled. "I'm—a—famous—HERO—GODDAMIT!"
"Well, that's weird," Ron said. "I've never heard of you."
"ARRRRRGH!" Harry yelled. Just then two more redheaded kids walked. "Hey Ron," they said.
"Oh, hey. Harry, these are my twin brothers, Freddie—"he indicated the one on the left, who was wearing a striped shirt and waved at Harry, claws bursting out of his hand—"and Jason." Jason grinned evilly as he put a hockey mask over his face and pulled out a long knife. "Jason, Freddie, this is Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?!" Freddie cried. "That's amazing!" Harry grinned smugly. "However did you grow your arms back after Jason cut them off at last year's New Year's Eve party?"
"Arrrrgh!" Harry cried. "I wasn't at that goddamn party! And—and—"Harry tried to find a good insult, but all he could come up with was—"and you're POOR!" Ron immediately burst into tears. Freddie and Jason brandished their knife and claws threateningly. Harry squeaked in fear. "Uh, sorry, Ron, I didn't mean it," he said quickly.
"OK, we're off to go kill horny teenagers at some camp. We'll be back later," Jason said, voice muffled by his mask. He and Freddie left and Harry could breathe again.
Just then, the compartment door slid open and a girl with a giant beaver on her head walked in. She sat across from them and said, "Hullo, I'm Hermione, have you seen Neville's frog?" Harry and Ron shook their heads. Ron took out his wand to polish it on his dress, and she said, "Oh, do some magic!" she cried, her gigantic front teeth wobbling. Ron waved the wand and said "Freebeaverius!" The beaver on Hermione's head squirmed frantically and pulled backwards. "Ow, what are you doing?" she cried, clutching at the beaver.
"Just trying to get that beaver off your head," Ron said.
"That's my HAIR!" Hermoine shrilled, and began sobbing. "You think it looks like a BEAVER?" she said through tears. Harry chose this time to point out again that Ron was poor, and Ron began crying hysterically as well. Then Harry joined in, unable to believe the fact that his only friends were a cross-dresser with scary brothers and a girl that looked like a beaver. "Waaaaaa," they all wailed together. Then ANOTHER person walked into the compartment.
"Look, it's Neville," Hermione said. "Every series needs some pathetic loser kid that the hero must save from mean bullies. Huh, and I was sure it would have been you, Ron." They all began chuckling heartily at poor fat Neville Longbottom. Said chuckling kept on until they heard Rabid's voice on the PA. "Would all the—unhhhhhh—mmmmmm—overweight plump children please come to the driver's compartment?" he said drooling. Neville gave a terrified squeak and ran to the front of the train. Harry had a strange feeling that they would never see Neville again. But he forgot about all that when he saw the rat crawling out of Ron's trunk.
"Eek!" Harry squealed. "A rat!" He jumped on top of Ron's head, trying to keep his ankles away from the rat. "Oh, the terror," Harry gibbered. "The utter, utter terror!"
Ron said, "Relax, Harry, it's just my old rat Scabbers. Nothing suspicious, dangerous, or imposter-ish about him, no sir, nothing...nope."
The rest of the train ride was pretty uneventful. Then as they approached Hogwarts, cool, suave Draco Malfoy entered Harry's compartment in a cool, suave way, all the while coolly, suavely slicking his hair back with cool, suave gel. Harry regarded him with narrow eyes—he still hadn't forgotten what Malfoy had said about Cheezits. Malfoy was accompanied by two strange looking creatures—one with eight legs and the other with horns sticking out of his head.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"Ha-ha-ha, Potter. I can go where I please. Oh, where are my manners?" He indicated his two cronies. "This is Crab, and this is Gargoyle."
They then spouted insults back and forth, which turned into a fistfight involving Harry hurtling Malfoy through the train window into the lake and Malfoy jumping back in to strangle Harry. Matrix moves were overused and a hearty, macho good time was had by all. Then they arrived at Hogwarts, where the proper authorities—Rabid, that is, who was looking quite full—took charge and broke up the fight. Then everyone rowed across the lake. Harry waved goodbye to Thomas the Tank Engine, while Ron screamed for the engine's autograph. "Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione scoffed. "Thomas has no hands! How could he give you his autograph?" Ron's face contorted angrily.
"I hate you!" he sobbed. "You crushed all my dreams!" which explains the animosity between himself and Hermione. Harry sighed in exasperation as Hermione stared haughtily at the sobbing Ron, and wondered if he could use his magic powers to go back in time and get normal friends, which got him thinking if he could go back in time and kill Voldemort while he was small and defenseless, which got him thinking the same thing about Hitler, which got him thinking that if he didn't get out of the boat soon, everyone would leave him behind and he'd die alone and stranded on the lake, which got him to get out of the boat.
"Come on, then Harry!" Rabid called, blood streaking his wild beard. "Time for the Sorting."
They entered Hogwarts, which was like a big castle in the middle of nowhere. They gazed in awe at the ceiling. "It's enchanted to drop knives," Hermione said. Then they all had to stop gazing in awe because of the knives raining down on them.
"I hope this is temporary," Harry growled, starting to get angry again. They walked into the dining hall. Five long troughs were arranged around the room, one green, one red, one yellow, one blue, and one very large one on a raised platform at which sat a bunch of old smelly people with funny hats. One of them stood up—a wizard with purple robes and a long white beard, and merry eyes twinkling behind giant golden pilot goggles. "Rabid! So good to have you back!" he cried, and threw a long dagger at Rabid.
"Great man, Dumbledore," Rabid said in awe, pulling the dagger out of his forehead and joining the old man at the Head Trough, who was now throwing fruits at the witch next to him. The witch stood up. "Welcome, first- years," she said in a bored tone and pulled out a cigarette. "I'm Professor McGonagall, yadda yadda, welcome to Hogwarts, let's have a great year, blah blah blah. Ah, ever since the house-elves went on strike we've had to cook for ourselves so you'll be eating lima bean soup the entire year." The students gave the teachers sad looks. "Whaaaat?" she asked. "They're the only things that grow here. Anyways, Rabid ate the Sorting Hat last year, so we have picked an alternate way to sort you." She lit her cigarette and stuck it in her mouth. Taking a long drag, she said in the same dull voice, "Get ready to-o-o-o-o-o-o-o RUMBLE...."
A boxing ring rose out of the floor as spotlights shone down from the ceiling. McGonagall, voice magnified magically, said, "To see which house you'll be in, YOU will have to WRESTLE—a TROLL!!" McGonagall paused and looked at a corner of the ring. "A TROLLLLLL!" she said again. Then she said, "Where's the troll?" Rabid, troll limbs dangling out of his mouth, looked down in shame. "Oh, Rabid," she sighed exasperatedly. "Well, since Rabid ate the troll, I guess we need another way to sort you. Oh, god, I hate this goddamn job." She took another suck at her cigarette.
After a while, the teachers decided to just sort the students with a complicated tactic: Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Mo. By sheer luck, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all sorted into Gryffindor, and the rest of the students were also sorted into appropriate houses. "Huzzah!" Freddie and Jason cried.
Everyone sat and feasted. "I say, Prissy," Harry said to Ron's older brother as he took a hearty sip from his bottle, "this wizard drink is really smashing, old boy."
"That would be insecticide, Harry," Prissy said. Harry, who was not good with big words and had no idea what 'insecticide' was, nodded and took another swig. All around people were eating from the troughs and drinking from the bottles on the floor. Suddenly a bunch of pearly white people floated in through the wall. Everyone gasped. One ghost with old-timey clothes and a ruff around his neck floated over to where Harry sat with Ron, Prissy, and Hermione. "Hullo, hullo, children," the ghost introduced himself. "I am Sir Nicholas, your house ghost."
"Hey!" Ron cried. "I know you! You're Nearly Cockless Nick!" Nick growled at this nick name.
"Nearly Cockless?" Hermione said shrilly. "How can you be Nearly Cockless?"
"Like this." And Nick took off his pants and showed the Gryffindors how he was nearly cockless. Hermione screamed.
"Great," Harry muttered. "Our house ghost is a sex offender." Luckily, McGonagall had located a broomstick and chased the perverted ghost out of the hall.
Harry saw some guy glaring at him from across the room, at the Head Trough. He wasn't actually sure if it was a guy at all, though. It looked more like a giant hooked nose on legs. "Who's that?" Harry asked Prissy, his stomach churning from the 'insecticide'.
"Oh, that's Professor Snape. He may or may not be evil, and he may or may not be trying to kill you."
Harry blinked stupidly. "Waaaaa?" But then Dumbledore stood up for the speech. "Welcome to Hogwarts, children!" Then he threw his arms around and yelled "Oooooogy-boooooogy-boogy! Please don't go in the third floor corridor, and the Forbidden Forest is open for all!" McGonagall whispered something in his ear. "Oh, er, scratch that, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden for all, har de har har har. Now. Let's sing the Hogwarts song, which will conveniently be forgotten and unmentioned in every other of Harry's years at Hogwarts." They then sang the Hogwarts song, which I cannot write down because I have conveniently forgotten it. Dumbledore continued, "One more announcement: I am now officially changing my name to Nancy. Now off you go for bed. Flibbergibbet!"
As Harry and Ron trundled off to bed, they could hear Rabid roaring, "Great man, Nancy."
Bed turned out to be a small rickety wooden cot set against the wall for each Gryffindor. Their bedroom was wide and smelly and there were dead house-elves strewn on the floor. Neville had come to bed early, looking a bit more metallic than usual and Harry noticed the nuts and bolts attaching his joints together. Neville was sitting on his cot with his eyes closed. When Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean came in, Neville slowly brought up his head and said, "Hello, fellow Hogwarts students. I am pleased with your company."
"Neville?" Dean asked, bewildered. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. It made a clanging sound. Everyone looked around nervously as Neville stretched out robotically on his cot, made a beeping noise, and said in a monotone voice, "Prepare system shut down...shutdown completed."
"Er," Harry said. He then spent the rest of the night reflecting on his day. But then he had to stop and throw up all over a dead house-elf when the insecticide caught up with him.
--------------------
That's it for Chapter Dos! Read and review! If you don't review then you are, a—a—a thief! You're stealing! Shame on you. It's not like it's hard. A simple "Good job" or "you suck" would suffice. Toodle-oo.