Yay! A rare update! How crazy is that? Anyways, thanks much to everyone who reviewed: Black Triforce, Skwiggle, GirlChild1313, a fan, Brick Retarded Weatherman, and Kalira. By the way, to whoever Kalira might be: go awaaaaayyyyyyy. I am not Dawnie. WHO THE HELL IS DAWNIE? Are you trying to freak me out or something? Leave me alooooooooone. Whatever, enjoy:
Disclaimer: Der, I don't own Harry Potter. Or Transformers, or Digimon, or Alex Trebek, Cabbage Patch Kids, Michael Jackson, and whatever the hell else I used in here. I am just Lowly Anahit, Warrior Freshman. NOW you can enjoy:
Chapter Nine: Of Many Strange Things That Are So Numerous If I Listed Them All The Title Would Be Way Too Long
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away, a long time ago, there was a dude named Moldyvort--uhh, or Voldemort...or Darth Vader...one of those...anyway, he was truly, truly evil. Not only did he steal Christmas, rape Santa, and eat loads of muggles, he killed Harry Potter's parents. And only a truly, truly evil man would kill Harry Potter's parents and leave him free to roam the world as a menace to society.
That's a little background information. Now, back to your regularily scheduled program.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione collapsed on the floor. Thankfully, Fluffy's yips couldn't be heard through the door. Then they had the common sense to look around the room.
It was empty.
"ARRRRRGH!" Harry started to scream, but then they heard a sound. Suddenly, a small green thing dropped down onto the floor. It looked like a leafy hedge in the shape of a wizened old man wearing a loin cloth. It pulled out a laser gun and began shooting blindly at the walls.
"Wait a second!" Hermione said, pulling out her script. "This room is supposed to have devil's snare in it, not that...that...um, thing!"
"Hermione, don't you understand?" Ron said exasperatedly. "The sorcerer's stoned." Harry and Hermione looked at him blankly. He shook his head. Then the plant thing lunged. "Ooooooogy boogy boogy!"it cried. Then it sat down and began speaking Brazilian to the wall.
"What a pushover!" Harry laughed. But then the plant grew very, very large and blocked the way to the door. Harry saw his chance to be a hero and began uttering complicated incantations to trap the plant in a different dimension.
Ron pulled out a small bottle and sprayed it on the plant in the middle of Harry's spell. It whimpered, shrivelled up, and died. Ron grinned. "I knew this Walmart cologne would come in handy someday."
Hermione hugged him. "What a hero!" she cried.
Bitter, Harry said, "That's not cologne, Ron. That's rat piss." After Ron had finished sobbing, the trio carefully walked around the pruney corpse and into the other room.
The walls here were painted in psychedelic colors that moved around in swirls and twists. "Just how stoned is this sorcerer?" Harry muttered to himself. Then a small table and four chairs rose out of the floor, along with Alex Trebek.
"Who's ready to play..." he began.
"Chess?" Ron quipped.
"...Strip poker!"
Harry and the gang blanched. "But...but...we're eleven..."
Trebek turned into Michael Jackson. "Well, that's perfect then!" The trio whimpered and backed into a corner. Hermione desperately cast a spell and Michael caught on fire. He screamed and melted into a pile of bleached rubber and the chess table sank back into the floor. The young wizards sighed in relief.
"Now what?" Harry wondered. There was no visible door. "Maybe you should bang your head into the wall again, mate," Ron suggested.
"Not a bad idea," Harry said, but before he could charge into the wall, Hermione stopped him. "Look!" she cried. They looked.
The colors in the walls suddenly oozed out of them and formed solid objects in the air. They were--
"Cabbage Patch Kids?!" Harry cried in disbelief, as he does quite often. Indeed, they were Cabbage Patch Kids, ugly flabby flatfaced dolls. These had brightly colored wings and flew around the room giggling. At the same time, a door appeared in one wall with a large keyhole.
A broomstick rolled to Harry feet randomly and he picked it up grimly. "We have to find the one with the right key. We will win this war on terrorism," he concluded. Marching band music began playing and an American flag waved behind him, even though this was in England or Scotland or some weird place.
"So which is it then?" Ron asked impatiently. Harry hesitated. "Umm, err, I--"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "So much for the war on terrorism," she retorted.
"Umm, you guys--" Ron began when Harry interrupted.
"--We'll just have to shoot 'em down!" Harry cried in a surprisingly southern accent. "Yeeee hawwwwww!" After Harry shot down all the Cabbage Patch Kids and their satisfying screams faded, he searched them for keys. "ARRRRRRGH! THEY'RE NOT HERE!"
"HARRY!" Ron burst out. "I've been trying to tell you--the keys are already in the knob!"
Harry looked at the knob and blushed, looking around at the doll massacre and waste around him and shrugged. "Well, they were annoying anyways..." he justified. For once, he was right.
Harry and the gang turned the doorknob and walked through the door, anticipation high, hoping that the next room did not contain some random creature the author thought up on a whim to fill up space in her story. Actually, the creature in the next room was not entirely random. It was Monty, the entertaining troll.
"Monty?" Ron asked. "What're you doing here?"
"I got lost," Monty sniffled. "I was looking for the bathroom and I got in here by accident. A-and then M-M-Michael Jackson stole my m-m-makeup." Tears rolled down his face and Ron patted his arm comfortingly.
"S'okay mate, we've all been there," he said kindly.
"Ahem," Hermione said angrily. "We do have to be going now, Monty, so we'll be seeing you..."
"Wait! Bring Monty too! Monty wanna go!" Monty cried thickly. Hermione started to protest, but Harry clapped a hand over her mouth and said through clenched teeth, "Hermione, think. He's a troll...Don't you think we'd be better off with a troll on our side?"
"Oh, but he's not very intelligent, is he? What if he--"
"What if we happen to stumble across an evil murderous wizard who wants to kill us all and we don't have Monty to fight him? Hell, maybe if we had had a big troll in the books, we could've finished the guy up by the third book," Harry said and then took a big breath to compensate for all the lost air.
Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Fine".
The gang and their new companion then walked through the next door. Damn, there are a lot of doors around here, Harry thought thoughtfully. The next room contained a small table with a bunch of funny-shaped bottles on it, and a small piece of paper that Monty picked up and examined. A wall of rainbow- colored fire with peace sign and happy face patterns rippling through it blocked the exit on the other side of the room. Hermione pulled out her script and leafed through it.
"OK, there's supposed to be paper on the table with instructions on which bottle we should drink to get through the fire," she informed them, turning just in time to see the piece of paper disappearing down Monty's throat. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she cried. "What do we do now?"
"Monty done a bad thing," Monty said sadly, sounding much like Lennie in that 'novella' we read in English class called Of Mice and Men.
Harry looked at Hermione sheepishly, as it was his idea to bring Monty with them. "Alright, alright, I'll be the guinea pig," he said. He picked up the largest bottle and gulped it down. "Nothing's happening," Ron asserted.
Then something happened. Harry began growing. Alarmed, he grabbed another bottle and drank that one. This process continued until he was twelve feet tall, hoofed, magenta-handed, and numerous other things, some of which I cannot mention unless I change the rating to R. "Hermione, what do I do?" he blubbered with his new forked tongue.
"Errr...just...ummm..." It seemed even Hermione was at a loss. "Urrrrrgh!" Harry cried. "This SUCKS!" He punched the wall in anger, and found that his giganticism allowed him to create a hole straight through the wall, a handy thing when one is need of a door. After Ron and Hermione climbed through and Harry had squeezed Monty through the hole, Harry himself was faced with the dilemna of how to get through a hole the size of his fist.
After a few minutes of thought, he resolved on making the hole bigger with violence since it solves every problem. When he was on the other side of the wall, he looked around at the room they were in.
A bunch of tall columns that were rectangular and colorful stood around the large room. The lighting was dim to add suspense and eeriness, and a large pink plastic mirror stood at the far end of the room. It was covered with roses and the Barbie logo.
Harry gasped. "It's the Mirror of Erised!"
Sure enough, the ditzy pink-haired Barbie fairy appeared in the mirror's glassy surface. But this time she had a desperate fearful look on her face. "Horace! I must tell you the secret of this place! We've gotta hurry, he's coming!"
"Who's coming?" Harry inquired, scratching his head in ape-like confusion.
"The, like, evil sorcerer guy who totally is messing things up!"
"I don't get it," Ron said. "What did he do?" But then the Barbie let out a high-pitched scream and the scene in the mirror starwiped to show McGonagall's gross face leering through. "So Mr. Malfoy was not lying! You somehow managed to get past the dog and even Michael Jackson, Potter! But be assured you will be severely punished! Blech-yuk-yuk-yuk-yuk!"
The mirror went black like a blank TV, and the trio and Monty looked around desperately, studying the strange room carefully."What do we do, what do we do?" Hermione whimpered.
Harry spotted a corner cluttered high with strangely shaped objects. "What's that?" he said, going over to explore the pile. The objects turned out to be one very large sack. Ron opened it and gasped. Inside were the professors! Even the ones who'd burst into flame so long ago! Their mouths were duct-taped and their eyes pleaded silently to Harry and the gang.
Once all the teachers had been freed, and Harry noticed that Rabid and Nancy were not among them, the wizards and the troll looked at them for an explanation.
McGonagall started. "Good job, kids. You freed us! And now we can give you an explanation of the jacked up plot!"
"Why are you all down here? Where are we?" Hermione shrilled.
"This place was meant to guard the Sorcerer's Stone, but it was stolen this summer. Then Moldevort--Voldemort--came and imprisoned us here instead," Flitwick explained squeakily.
"But--you're not imprisoned--I just saw you this morning!" Harry said.
"Voldemort replaced us with our stunt doubles!" Snape cried out.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh," Hermine uttered. "So that's why they were so clueless! And why they burst into flame whenever we questioned them about their subjects. Voldemort probably planned it that way so they wouldn't give anything away!"
"Wow!" Harry cried. "The plot is coming together now! How could i have doubted the awesomness of the author?" Then he paused. "But wait...what about Nancy? And Rabid?"
"Nancy?" Sprout questioned.
"Er, Dumbledore," Hermione explained, realizing that these teachers were probably not very up-to-date with Hogwarts events, seeing as they'd been imprisoned for about a year.
"I don't know what happened to him, or to Rabid," Hooch said.
"I always thought this place seemed kinda shammy," Harry concluded. "But I don't understand how the stone comes into all this."
"That stone contains the most powerful hypnosis powder in the world!" McGonagall cried.
"Really?" Ron asked.
"No, but the author couldn't leave it out completely. It's the only way someone could come get past Fluffy. And Voldemort wants it for something. Anyway, Voldemort didn't want anyone to come down and rescue us, so he tried to steal the stone. He sent a messenger to go get it but the messenger got kicked out by the goblins at Gringotts."
"Wait--you mean Rabid? Rabid was the messenger?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "No freakin' way!"
McGonagall shrugged. "I'm not sure, after all we were stuffed into that sack for a while. Not easy to get information that way, is it? Now, we must get out of here before--"
Suddenly the wall behind the mirror burst, and in came some guy in a turban. He was wearing a tye-dye T-shirt and baggy jeans. The turban was purple and had such hippie symbols on it such as peace signs and smilies. "Yo dudes, that's right, it's me!"
"Who?" Harry asked blankly, as the professors cried out and cowered behind him.
"Dude, me. Professor Quirrell? Jesus, man, the guy who ran in stuttering about the troll on Halloween...dude, how stoned were you?"
"Er..." Harry said, not sure how to answer that. "Sorry?"
"Whatever, it don't make a difference. You know why dude? YOU KNOW WHY??" the guy screamed psychotically into Harry's face.
"No, why?" Harry asked, edging away uneasily.
"BECAUSE I'VE GOT FREAKING VOLDEMORT STICKIN' OUTTA MY HEAD!" Quirrell roared happily, waving around his arms.
"That's disgusting," Ron said snobbishly.
"Dude, you only think it's disgusting cuz you're a slave to freakin' society, man," Quirrell sniffed.
"No, it's because it's disgusting. And you probably think it's gross too, since you cover it up with that turban," Ron said reasonably. But this was a bad move. Quirrell's face reddened.
"Well, you're poor!" he cried out, which sent Ron crying again.
"As for you," Quirrell said, turning to Harry, "you let out my prisoners and stole the stone, dude. So you, like, totally hafta pay for that. Prepare to--"
"Not so fast!" a voice cried. Suddenly, a bunch of kids with funny walkie-talkies dropped down from the ceiling. They were lead by a guy with a huge bush of hair and goggles. "The digidestined will prevail!" he cried. Harry stared at him, flabbergasted.
"Is this some sort of joke?" he asked to the unseen author. But the author was too busy giggling at her own joke to listen to him. Instead, she threw in some theme music.
DIGIMON, DIGITAL MONSTERS, DIGIMON ARE THE CHAMPIONS....
"AUGH! Make it freakin' stop, dude!" Quirrell cried. He retaliated by resurrecting Kurt Cobain from the dead so he could play some Rape Me and counterract the power of the theme music.
"This is just getting weirder and weirder," Hermione said before turning into a big yellow lego block. Harry shook his head. "The sorcerer's more stoned than I thought possible," he murmured as Quirrell advanced on him with a gigantic flamethrower.
"Mwahahahahaha! No one will save you now, dude! No one--"
Just then Harry heard a grinding noise and metal clacking. The colorful columns in the room had begun shifting around, until finally instead of columns stood--
"Tranformers?" Ron cried. Indeed, the robots began singing TRANFORMERS, ROBOTS IN DISGUISE!
Harry again consulted the author, crying, "Why???? Why can't we just have some normal people to kick Voldemort's ass?" Suddenly the Transformers vanished. "No!" Harry cried in anguish. "I--I was just kidding! Please--I mean, Voldemort doesn't even HAVE an ass! Why--"
Now of course, when one is in grave danger, especially from a stoner with a dark lord popping out of the back of his head, it's usually a bad idea for one to spend his time pleading with the author. You'd think Harry'd have learned that by now, but alas, no. The only thing that saved him this time, as Quirrell waved around a plastic pink wand--apparently he'd chuched the flamethrower for this new weapon--was, ironically, Voldemort.
"Wait!" a funny voice said. "Let me do it!"
"But dude, you can't, you are so like not strong enough. You're freakin' growing outta my head. I--"
"Shaddup!" the voice whined. "Just do it!"
Quirrell chuckled. "OK, dude, you asked for it..." and with that he unwrapped his turban slowly.
Harry's eyes grew wide as he saw what grew out of the back of Quirrell's head, and the teachers, students, and troll behind him all gasped...
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Wow what suspense! The best cliffhanger yet! That's it for now kids, I just got back from one crazy ass football game, froze my tush off, and made a general fool of myself. So I am POOPED. By the way, if you wanna try some magic of your own, review and click on the author alert box. Magically, email will appear in your inbox telling you when I've updated. Isn't that crazy awesome?? I'll try and update sometime soon, but it's hard.
Of course, it might not be as hard if you
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