A/N: Ok, well I've got another story, one of which I plan to continue
writing until I run out of idea's to go with it. I hope this becomes a
little more successful review wise than my other stories *HINT HINT*. Lol.
Because the holidays are coming up (well, for year 10 in Australia they
are. Ha ha to all the other years/countries)
So that means I am going to have A LOT of spare time, so I'll be updating
more often and hope to finish this by the time the holidays are over.
Unfortunately it is because of the upcoming holidays that I may start
writing rubbish due to my enormous amount of time. If this does occur,
PLEASE tell me other wise my writing skills will sink below sub-normal and
then that will only add to the abundance of crap on fanifc. Sorry if there
are any spelling mistakes. Also, if you're not a Simpsons fan, like myself,
then it is unlikely you'll understand some of the dialogue used. So, if you
come across something you don't understand -IT WAS A JOKE, well, my attempt
at one anyway..
Disclaimer: Yes, yes yes..ok no, I don't own them. I've pretended I own them, pretended I don't own them and occasionally actually claimed them, "so who's to say who's right and wrong with all our modern ideas and products.ok, we'll give the stupid animal to the stupid animal refuge." -Homer Simpson
Chapter One-
Potions, Hermonie's Homework and Rectum Boils
A/N: Yes, the 1st chapters' title is a bit strange.
Ron squinted down at his potions paper as he scanned though the block of text before his sleepily sunken eyes. Not because he couldn't read it, but because Ron was on the verge of loosing all physical control due to his tiredness that his stupidity was on the increase. He was idiotic enough to think if he squinted really hard at his essay on magical cures for boils, that his homework would simply disappear. This, however, was not taking on the effect the over worked Ronald Weasley was hoping for and he soon abandoned his under thought solution.
Ron dipped his quill back into his inkbottle, despite it's lack of need for actual ink due to the fact that Ron hadn't used it since it's last refueling. Ron rested from his pausing and then paused some more, this was shortly followed with a brief detour to the lavatory and then he commenced his in depth pausing.
On his return, Ron shuffled his papers numerous times, decided they should probably be color coded, then decided, before he carried out his previous thought, that he should perhaps align them in alphabetical order, he then realized they were stapled.
Ron then, with much reluctance, picked up his potions textbook and proceeded to read.
"The most common place for boils to form on the human body is the rectum. To rid yourself of the horrid rectum boils you must stand upside down naked in a pot of ice cold glue, drink the already made potion (as mentioned in section 5 of your textbook) and sing irrelevant songs. We recommend God Save the Queen."
After reading the previous sentences Ron decided he now knew too much about boils, or rather, knew too much about where to find them. Ron wondered what the hell possessed Snape to set them such a ridiculous essay, then decided to stop thinking about that too. The thought of Snape and rectum boils was not very comforting and he certainly didn't want it to be the last thing he thought about before he went to sleep. He dreaded the thought of what horrible dreams that idea could spawn. Then he decided that "spawn" was probably not the best phrase to use in a sentence that incorporated the words Snape and rectum boils and slammed the textbook shut.
"That was an image I didn't need *click click* deleted".
Bored, sleepy and irritable Ron decided to do the honorable thing he usually did in a situation like this, copy Hermonie's essay the following morning and Snape would be none the wiser. Though this would require some sort of word rearrangement on his part, he was willing to make that sacrifice.
Though this time it was going to be considerably more difficult than Ron's previous acts of plagiarism. Hermonie had refused when he'd made a joke about borrowing her homework last time he used it for his own, and hoped against hope Hermonie wouldn't stay true to her word.
Ron made a mental note to wake Hermonie in the morning to beg her for her essay. He figured if he sprung the idea on her in the early hours she would be far to sleepy to refuse him and agree to hand over homework her with minimal objections.
Ron had not taken into account the staircase leading to the girls dormitories that had a inconvenient habit of screaming and turning into a super fun happy slide when any male decided he might wish to venture into forbidden female territory. The ironic thing about the staircase turned super fun happy slide was the blatant fact that it was more irritating than fun due to the fact that boys wanted to get up there, not slide down the floor boards with enthusiasm- thus making the super fun happy side completely unfun. Well, most of the boys felt that way, with the exception of a few 1 st years who's hormones hadn't kicked in yet and were delighted about the some what children's play ground accessory situated in the Gryffindor common room.
Ron gazed at the tarnished gold rimmed clock positioned above the fireplace, which was still violently burning through the large piece of timber upon it. He collected his ill written essay and less than cherished textbooks and headed for the boy's stairs case.
Ron drifted towards the banister and the fire extinguished itself. Ron had seen this magically automatic safety precaution when the last person leaves the common room too many times this week. He had made a habit of waking early, sleeping late and finishing homework tasks at the last possible minute. He was in real need of help concerning that, but felt far to uninterested to occupy his mind with thoughts of unprofitable education.
"Pfftt, education, what can that possibly offer?"
And with that thought, Ron closed his dormitory door shut with a click, undressed down to his boxers, lifted his bed covers and jumped into his gold and scarlet colored four-poster.
Ron was not an easy sleeper and because he had been staying up rather late all throughout this week, he found it no easier to sleep tonight than any other recent night of the week. This paradox pissed Ron off. In theory he should have been sleeping the minute his adolescent head hit the pillow, in theory this would have been his body's golden opportunity to rest, but, in theory, communism works, and who can argue with that?
Ron awaited the break of dawn, as this signaled when he was to approach Hermonie. By now it had dawned on him, in his most sleepy state of mind, that it would be rather difficult to discreetly enter the girls dormitories if there was shrill screaming coming from the base of the staircase. He also wasn't to keen on riding the super fun happy slide at dawn- there is a reason for those "do not operate heavy machinery whilst drowsy" warnings.
He scooped up his wand from his bedside table and, to be sure, drew the curtain around his four-poster so no one else in his dormitory would know his whereabouts. Last time he had left in the middle of the night and left his curtain open it appeared all too obvious that he was missing. His roommates wouldn't let up with all their questions for weeks. As it turned out, Ron had taken the liberty of attempting yet another introduction to the girl's dormitories - this, obviously, hadn't turned out the way he'd planned.
Ron quietly gathered his robes hanging on a chair beside the windowpane and dressed himself appropriately for the school day. He, however, felt that if he tousled his hair, gave her a cheeky school boyish grin and undid a few top buttons he would be sure to score with Hermonie - concerning the matter of the homework that is.
Disclaimer: Yes, yes yes..ok no, I don't own them. I've pretended I own them, pretended I don't own them and occasionally actually claimed them, "so who's to say who's right and wrong with all our modern ideas and products.ok, we'll give the stupid animal to the stupid animal refuge." -Homer Simpson
Chapter One-
Potions, Hermonie's Homework and Rectum Boils
A/N: Yes, the 1st chapters' title is a bit strange.
Ron squinted down at his potions paper as he scanned though the block of text before his sleepily sunken eyes. Not because he couldn't read it, but because Ron was on the verge of loosing all physical control due to his tiredness that his stupidity was on the increase. He was idiotic enough to think if he squinted really hard at his essay on magical cures for boils, that his homework would simply disappear. This, however, was not taking on the effect the over worked Ronald Weasley was hoping for and he soon abandoned his under thought solution.
Ron dipped his quill back into his inkbottle, despite it's lack of need for actual ink due to the fact that Ron hadn't used it since it's last refueling. Ron rested from his pausing and then paused some more, this was shortly followed with a brief detour to the lavatory and then he commenced his in depth pausing.
On his return, Ron shuffled his papers numerous times, decided they should probably be color coded, then decided, before he carried out his previous thought, that he should perhaps align them in alphabetical order, he then realized they were stapled.
Ron then, with much reluctance, picked up his potions textbook and proceeded to read.
"The most common place for boils to form on the human body is the rectum. To rid yourself of the horrid rectum boils you must stand upside down naked in a pot of ice cold glue, drink the already made potion (as mentioned in section 5 of your textbook) and sing irrelevant songs. We recommend God Save the Queen."
After reading the previous sentences Ron decided he now knew too much about boils, or rather, knew too much about where to find them. Ron wondered what the hell possessed Snape to set them such a ridiculous essay, then decided to stop thinking about that too. The thought of Snape and rectum boils was not very comforting and he certainly didn't want it to be the last thing he thought about before he went to sleep. He dreaded the thought of what horrible dreams that idea could spawn. Then he decided that "spawn" was probably not the best phrase to use in a sentence that incorporated the words Snape and rectum boils and slammed the textbook shut.
"That was an image I didn't need *click click* deleted".
Bored, sleepy and irritable Ron decided to do the honorable thing he usually did in a situation like this, copy Hermonie's essay the following morning and Snape would be none the wiser. Though this would require some sort of word rearrangement on his part, he was willing to make that sacrifice.
Though this time it was going to be considerably more difficult than Ron's previous acts of plagiarism. Hermonie had refused when he'd made a joke about borrowing her homework last time he used it for his own, and hoped against hope Hermonie wouldn't stay true to her word.
Ron made a mental note to wake Hermonie in the morning to beg her for her essay. He figured if he sprung the idea on her in the early hours she would be far to sleepy to refuse him and agree to hand over homework her with minimal objections.
Ron had not taken into account the staircase leading to the girls dormitories that had a inconvenient habit of screaming and turning into a super fun happy slide when any male decided he might wish to venture into forbidden female territory. The ironic thing about the staircase turned super fun happy slide was the blatant fact that it was more irritating than fun due to the fact that boys wanted to get up there, not slide down the floor boards with enthusiasm- thus making the super fun happy side completely unfun. Well, most of the boys felt that way, with the exception of a few 1 st years who's hormones hadn't kicked in yet and were delighted about the some what children's play ground accessory situated in the Gryffindor common room.
Ron gazed at the tarnished gold rimmed clock positioned above the fireplace, which was still violently burning through the large piece of timber upon it. He collected his ill written essay and less than cherished textbooks and headed for the boy's stairs case.
Ron drifted towards the banister and the fire extinguished itself. Ron had seen this magically automatic safety precaution when the last person leaves the common room too many times this week. He had made a habit of waking early, sleeping late and finishing homework tasks at the last possible minute. He was in real need of help concerning that, but felt far to uninterested to occupy his mind with thoughts of unprofitable education.
"Pfftt, education, what can that possibly offer?"
And with that thought, Ron closed his dormitory door shut with a click, undressed down to his boxers, lifted his bed covers and jumped into his gold and scarlet colored four-poster.
Ron was not an easy sleeper and because he had been staying up rather late all throughout this week, he found it no easier to sleep tonight than any other recent night of the week. This paradox pissed Ron off. In theory he should have been sleeping the minute his adolescent head hit the pillow, in theory this would have been his body's golden opportunity to rest, but, in theory, communism works, and who can argue with that?
Ron awaited the break of dawn, as this signaled when he was to approach Hermonie. By now it had dawned on him, in his most sleepy state of mind, that it would be rather difficult to discreetly enter the girls dormitories if there was shrill screaming coming from the base of the staircase. He also wasn't to keen on riding the super fun happy slide at dawn- there is a reason for those "do not operate heavy machinery whilst drowsy" warnings.
He scooped up his wand from his bedside table and, to be sure, drew the curtain around his four-poster so no one else in his dormitory would know his whereabouts. Last time he had left in the middle of the night and left his curtain open it appeared all too obvious that he was missing. His roommates wouldn't let up with all their questions for weeks. As it turned out, Ron had taken the liberty of attempting yet another introduction to the girl's dormitories - this, obviously, hadn't turned out the way he'd planned.
Ron quietly gathered his robes hanging on a chair beside the windowpane and dressed himself appropriately for the school day. He, however, felt that if he tousled his hair, gave her a cheeky school boyish grin and undid a few top buttons he would be sure to score with Hermonie - concerning the matter of the homework that is.