"No, no, no! It's ALL WRONG!" wailed Rita Skeeter, sobbing melodramatically, tears streaming down her cheeks. The staff of Weddings for the Witch and Wizard gave each other puzzled glances as they attempted to comfort the hysterical bride-to-be, assuming the worst. "NO!" she continued, "This dragon skin is the wrong shade of orange! It should be much darker."
"But miss," replied the general manager, "dragons just don't come in that color."
"Then make them come in that color!" shrieked Rita, "or I'm changing my design. As a matter of fact," she screamed, "I've changed my mind! I want yellow feathers everywhere! And nix the ruby slippers—I must simply have hot pink Converse All Stars—high tops! And couldn't you have booked Ashlee Simpson? That muggle makes me look better on stage. And of course, we want me to look my best on my special day. Isn't that right, Remy?" she asked in a sugar sweet falsetto, glancing at him. When he didn't reply, she said, sounding more angry than sweet, "Right?"
Remus jerked back to reality, stuttering tiredly, "Right, absolutely right, dearest. Anything for you, darling." What Remus had really been thinking was, I wonder if Danpa should get his fur dyed for the ceremony to match my lovely robes of puke green and baby pink. He had also secretly been wondering if Severus's voluptuous breasts were still as soft to the touch as they had been when he was female. I'd still love to get a piece of that!
"Yo, pass me that joint," Harry said to Dobby, an eager expression on his face.
"Yeah," Ron added, "give it to me, too."
Dobby, who was usually high, gave one of his normal responses: "Harry Potter must not get high on weed!" he exclaimed.
Sighing and rolling his eyes, Harry said, "Give it to me, now!" With that, he grabbed the weed from Dobby's tiny elf hand. He inhaled and exhaled, taking in and savoring the taste of the narcotics. Dobby reached over to the unsuspecting Harry and tried to steal the joint back.
"Give it to me! NOW!" Dobby exclaimed. Harry would not give up the weed; he fought relentlessly, not giving up. However, Dobby was just as determined. Meanwhile, everyone had forgotten about Myrtle, who had been sleeping in the U-bend of her toilet.
"What is all that ruckus?" she shrieked angrily. Suddenly, water began to seep out from under each stall, and the sinks filled up faster and faster. At this point, Hermione walked into the bathroom.
Adding to the commotion, she began panicking. "What are you doing? Harry! You can't give narcotics to house elves!"