Disc: Don't own anything to with Harry Potter. Or The Grinch. Or the O.C. Or Herbal Essences. Or Batman.
Warnings: some slash. Quite a lot of slash, actually. Stupid slash. Stupid carzyness. Stupid stupidness. Pokes fun at the new Batmobile and the Grinch. And Hermione.
A/ns: we were so excited about the new Harry Potter release that we wrote this. Oh dear. Excuse us, and the whole story. Especially the nick names. And excessive useof the word 'meanwhile'.In our defense it is 3.05am, and we arevery excited.Hahaha. Dare we ask for reviews?
Harry Potter and The Ten Minutes Of Your Life You'll Never Get Back.
By roxierocks and unscathedmuse.
"Harry Potter! 10 points from Gryffindor!"
Harry looked up, startled, despite the fact he was currently demonstrating to Ron how to dance the macarena on top of his potions desk.
"But sir!" he gasped. "That's just not fair. Dancing the macarena is imperative to all potions!"
With this proclamation, even Ron looked up in confusion while Hermione glared at Har, her bushy mane in her pasty face.
She took a breath and said, "Really Harry. What are you going on about? Everybody knows that the hand jive is the one that's important in potions. The macarena is more transfiguration." She glared defiantly at the dibelioveing snorts directed her way. "It's true! I read it in 'Hogwarts: A History."
Ron rolled his eyes and sneezed in shock as Neville Longbottom burst in.
"Ronny-Wonny! Come quickly! It's Fred, he's-"
He was abruptly cut off as a large tentacle wrapped around his waist, pulling him back through the door. They could hear his screams as he was bounced along the corridor ceiling.
Harry gave Ron a suspicious look.
"Ronny-Wonny. Ron, are you and Neville…?"
Harry was cut off, as Neville's screams came to a halt, and Sirius entered the room, dressed in an octopus costume.
"It's alright everybody – twas I, Sirius, Sexual Overlord! Y'see, when I fell through that veil, I didn't die. I just banged my head rather nastily. Spot of amnesia you see. Couldn't remember in the bloody hell who I was, where I was going or what I should be getting up to. Came to with my pants tied around my head, sitting on top of a hippopotamus in the middle of the Amazon. And would you believe, just downriver there was a Snape-alike, dressed in chains and PVC, grasping a whip. Well, I just averted my eyes and moved on – I leave that kind of thing to you, Har, or maybe Draco… Wanted to make it back here in time for the shindig."
Snape sniffed, haughtily. He rather liked his chains and PVC get-up.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore was in his office counting out his sherbet lemons.
He frowned down at the pile. He was sure he had seven hundred and twenty nine this morning, but now there were only seven hundred and twenty seven! Someone must have broken into his office and stolen two of his beloved sherbet lemons!
Except…except he had only just change the password this morning. No one could have possibly used the door. The window! They must have use the window. Which meant…the culprit had wings!
With this in mind, he set off, his magnifying glass and Sherlock Holmes hat at the ready, to track down the devious fiend. He decided to start at the top of the staircase, and, looking through his magnifying glass, to his horror he found one of his sherbet lemons, desecrated all over the floor!
"Gasp," he muttered to himself, picking up a shard of sherbet lemon and inspecting it closely.
The shard in question was covered in teeny tiny Dark Marks. And not only that – a thread from a Hufflepuff robe was entwined around it, almost lovingly.
"Hmmm… I shall enlist The Order to look into this. Tis not like they have anything better to do… Voldemort's only gaining in power an' all…"
Meanwhile, back in the potion's classroom, Snape was looking distinctly pissed off (his mouth had gone all tight and thin), and he was directing his Glare of Doom towards Sirius, who was involved in a manly backslap/handshake thing with Harry, whose eyes were looking suspiciously bright at his Godfather's unexpected return.
"Look here Black. You can't just go barging into my classroom putting your hands all over my-"
Sirius turned to look at Snape, watching the gaunt beauty flounder for words.
"Calm down, Snapey. It's only your secret photo of Gilderoy Lockhart. I never knew you harboured such an affection for the Ego, but meh, whatever floats your boat."
Harry giggled, in a very giggly manner and Ron acted macho because he's a hottie and that's what hotties do. Hermione died.
"That's not what I'm talking about," snapped Snape, ignoring the fact that one of his pupils had just dropped dead because of the hole in the vat of acid he insisted on keeping on the Gryffindor side of the room. Just in case.
"What I meant was-wait, what have you done with my Gilderoy photograph? That was personally autographed! If you'll touched it I'll…"
But it was too late. The treasured keepsake of the Lock-meister had slipped into the acid/Hermione puddle. Interestingly, and somewhat freakishly, Gilderoy's grinning face had melded itself onto Hermione's. Ron decided there and then that he no longer cared for the frizzy little witch.
And then – as if life had become a fantasy – Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory charged into the room, and sat next to Ron. Mmm. Let's just appreciate that image for a second.
"You're dead!" yelled Harry, pointing at Cedric in shock.
"So am I," said Sirius, helpfully.
Harry gasped, whirling to face him.
"You're dead!" he yelled, pointing now at Sirius.
"So's Hermione," Ron said, not particularly sorrowfully.
Harry gasped again, whirling towards Hermione, rather resembling a whirling derbish by this time.
"You're de-"
He stopped, abruptly, because Hermione did, indeed, appear to be, well, dead.
"Oh dear," said Harry, gazing at Hermione/Gilderoy hybrid.
Suddenly, Hermione began to shudder violently as the oddity of her face began to grin insanely.
"Raaaaah," she croaked. "I am… dead? Well, there's a turn up for the books."
And with that, she stopped shaking, her head lolling to one side and her eyes closing for the final time.
Ron refrained from quoting a popular song from 'The Wizard of Oz'.
Neville began to feel a tad confused – how had he suddenly appeared in the potions room when only moments before he had been dragged off to another part of the school? And why were all the alive people dead and all the dead people alive? And what was that great big blob of bubbling green liquid on the Gryffindor side? Good grief! It was bubbling right over the side of the vat!
"Professor Snape!" he cried. "We're all going to die!"
"Huh?" said Snape, who had been staring distractedly at Harry's arse.
But it was too late. Hearing Neville's proclamation, the rest of the class went into a panicked frenzy and began to run around like headless chickens. For some of them, this actually meant transfiguring themselves into headless chickens and running around until their chicken bodies could no longer cope without their heads. These people, despite being rather good at Transfiguration, were very stupid, and died.
This included Hermione, who even beyond the grave managed to be a know-it-all little madam, but it was okay, because at least we got to see her die. Twice.
Fortunately, Ron, Harry, Oliver, Cedric, Snapey-Wapey and Sirry transfigured themselves into flying monkeys and left the disintegrating room. As they flew frantically away from the mess, they crashed into a purposeful Dumbledore.
"What's the hap, man?" Dumbledore asked, unfazed by the winged monkeys surrounding him.
Monkey-Snape groaned. The headmaster had obviously been reading that God awful book, Street Talk For Beginners, again.
"Nothing is the 'hap'," he sneered, monkey-like. "There is no such word as 'hap'. If however you want to know what is happening I will tell you. Quite simply, several people have returned from the dead interrupting my oh-so-important lesson on the properties of dandelion leaves, and a vat of mutating, deadly acid has erupted in my classroom, killing almost everybody except us and Neville Longbottom, who, for some reason, is hanging from the chandelier." He narrowed his monkey eyes. "And just for that insidious language, I would propose to take ten pints, I mean points, from your house. Except you are annoyingly coy on the subject of exactly which house you are in. I am honestly beginning to wonder if you went to this school at all."
Dumbledore laughed.
"Don't be ridiculous Severus. Now we all know in my day that the length of one's beard was more important than whether one was a gregarious Gryffindor or a scathing Slytherin. I mean, seriously, who really grows their beard this long? It's rather impractical, and a devil to wash."
Dumbledore winked, for no real reason other than the fact he enjoyed closing one eye at a time.
Ron smirked. He enjoyed smirking.
Harry pulled a similar face to that of the Grinch. He liked the Grinch.
Sirius flexed a muscle, just because he could now he was free of that darn octopus costume.
Cedric dug, because his surname implied he should. That rhymes.
Oliver Wood had no need to do anything. He radiated cool, so why waste time doing anything when one can float there enjoying one's coolosity?
Snape glared at his peers.
"Why are you all floating there making unnecessary gestures and facial expressions?"
"They're our gestus," said Ron.
Everyone stared at him.
"Um…what?" asked Harry, still looking rather Grinch like.
"You know, gestus."
Everyone continued to stare at him.
Ron sighed.
"They're a symbolic gesture of who you are. Invented by Bertolt Brecht, German playwright and practitioner."
At the continued blank looks he huffed.
"Don't you lot know anything?"
"You sound like Hermione," said Cedric.
"How would you know?" asked Ron. "You never even spoke to her."
Cedric looked puzzled and stopped digging.
"Gosh, you're right. Isn't that strange?"
Ron didn't reply. He was too busy staring at Cedric's chiselled monkey abs.
"Headmaster?" Harry asked. "Why are you wearing a Sherlock Holmes hat?"
"Ah," said Dumbledore. "I'm glad you asked that Harry. You see at first it was because a thief had perpetrated my office and taken the Treasure. But then I found said Treasure, noting a couple of interesting things about it – which I shall cover in more depth at a later date – and as I was pondering these things, I happened to glance in a mirror. I decided this hat is a rather dapper fashion statement, and I shall wear it forever more."
"But, Headmaster… Don't you think it looks a little… odd?" Snape inquired, sounding perplexed and somewhat cute.
Harry sniggered.
"What are you laughing at, Potter?" Snape demanded, whirling around to face him.
"It's just I don't see how you of all people can say the Headmaster looks odd when you like to dress up in that old Garfield costume you keep."
Severus went an interesting shade of red.
"I'll get you for that Potter," he hissed. "Just you wait until tonight!"
Harry looked distinctly hopeful.
"Does it involve that whip?" he asked.
Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Yes, well, enough of that. The real reason I am actually wearing this hat, is that I read in a book" –Snape groaned loudly- "IN A BOOK that it was the height of fashion.
Cedric, being the pretty boy he is, looked intrigued.
"Which book, Headmaster?"
"A muggle book," Dumbledore said proudly. He fumbled in his robes for a moment. "Here we are 'What Not To Wear' by Trinny and Susannah. It's right here." He flipped the book open. "See, Sherlock Holmes hats."
"What was that book called again?" Oliver asked.
"What Not To Wear," Dumbledore repeated.
"Ah ok. It all makes sense now."
"Ron," said Harry. "Please stop looking at Cedric's monkey abs. It's freaking me out."
Ron came to his senses, and then smiled at Harry, wryly, "They're just too chiselled to ignore, Har."
"And, mate, could you perhaps stop calling me 'Har'?"
"But I thought you liked it! You're Har, Supersonic Wonder Boy, and I'm Ronny-Wonny, Ladies Man Extraordinaire! Remember?"
Harry flew off, gurning like a Grinch the whole way, and Ron jumped down into Cedric's hole – he 'dug' the abs, man (get it?). Cedric shrugged. He may be a pretty boy, but heck… Who can resister the Roninator?
Whilst Cedric and Ron were getting their freak on, and not in a dancing kind of way, if you know what I mean, Snape transfigured them all back to their human selves. Unfortunately this meant they were all naked, because monkeys don't wear clothes. Not even flying ones.
"Hmm," said Sirius, sizing up Snape's "wand".
Snape glared.
"Something interest you, Black?"
Sirius grinned.
"Well, maybe, if you and Harry weren't-"
Snape coughed and Sirius attempted to look innocent. He wasn't very good at it.
"Have I said too much?"
Snape looked at Dumbledore, but the old coot had been distracted by a piece of unravelling carpet thread.
"Meh." He shrugged. "Guess not. Want a threesome?"
Ron was momentarily distracted from ravishing Cedric.
"Sir… That's just wrong! You can't have Harry and his godfather without getting the Wonderboy's best friend in with deal too – it's Buy Two Get One Free nationwide!"
"Ronnet, Harry and I aren't… for sale…" Sirius began.
But Ron was on a roll.
"Come on… You've tried the Boy Who Lived, you've tried The Man Who Supposedly Died But Instead Became An Octopus For A Bit, now it's high time you tried a bit of The Weas-Man."
Snape was no longer listening. He and Sirius, his sworn enemy for so long, were wrapped in one another's arms.
Meanwhile, back in the potions room, an anvil had dropped onto Hermione and killed her again. When she had crawled out from underneath that, a box of Acme dynamite fell onto her and pieces of Hermione were scattered throughout Hogwart's.
"Wow," said Neville, who was still hanging form the chandelier. "Someone really he hates Hermione."
He wondered how long it would be until he got down.
Meanwhile, Harry had got sick of flying around, especially when the spell had ended and he had, in fact, just been walking around. Naked. Anyway, he decided to head back to the group, but turned the corner only to find –gasp- his beloved Severus in the arms of none other than his dastardly Godfather.
"How could you?" he shrieked, and tried to throw his shoes at Sirius. Except he wasn't wearing any, so just ended up looking very silly. And naked.
Severus sighed as Harry ran, wailing, down the corridor.
"He's such a drama queen. Sorry Black, looks like it's off. Dumbledore would probably go a round with you though, if you asked."
He sighed again and set off down the corridor after Harry.
Ron, a little dazed due to the fact that Cedric's lips were someplace questionable, said "Holy moly, Black-man! Let's get to the Black-mobile and set off after those two renegades!"
Cedric took his lips away from Place X to frown at Ron. "You know, Ron, I just don't think it's working out. You're a little too weird for my tastes… And I need to go home and break the news to my parents, you know, that I'm not actually dead after all. I did see some milk goddess wandering around somewhere though…"
Ignoring the shameless Mary-Sue, Ron fell to the ground and burst into heart-wrenching sobs. "But I love you Ced! We could have been so…"
His words were interrupted by a shadow falling over his face. There, stood the man of his dreams: it was none other than the sexy guy from the O.C.! That stupid muggle programme where everyone take drugs and goes to parties and stuff.
"You!" cried Ron, jumping up from the floor. "You're my dream man, even though I don't actually know what a television is, and have therefore never watched the O.C.
"Actually," O.C. guy said. "I am just a figment of your imagination. I'm about to disappear. Go find that milk goddess."
And then he disappeared.
Ron, bereft for a moment, was distracted by Oliver Wood's shiny hair.
Meanwhile, in another part of the castle, Harry was sobbing hysterically into his pillow.
"It's just not fair!" he wailed. "Why do I always end up with the miserable cheating scum?"
So alright, he'd never actually had a boyfriend or girlfriend before, but he was pretty sure he would always end up with the cheating scum.
That was just his luck.
The door opened, and in walked Neville Longbottom.
"Surprise!"
Harry groaned, and hid his head under the pillow, muttering, "Please, no."
Neville joined Harry on the bed, trying to lean back alluringly.
"So… Harry… Here we both are. Two young men, more or less alone in the world…" Neville smiled, bewitchingly. "It's high time that you and I got to know one another better, don't you think?"
"Snape. Transfigure yourself back. Please!"
Reluctantly, Snape re-appeared in his true form. "I bet it was a surprise, though, Potter."
"Grrrrrrr. I'm going to eat a potato. I'll be back in ten."
Snape clinked. Well, that could have gone better.
Meanwhile, everyone who had survived the killer acid blob had become strangely entranced by Oliver Wood's shiny hair, including Oliver himself.
Could it be that the boy just knew the merits of a really good conditioner, or was there something darker going on here…
Meanwhile, Harry had decided that he didn't want a potato after all. He was just looking for a portkey to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in Diagon alley (he had several lying around, just in case) when the door banged open.
"Ah ha!" yelled Snape. "You're cheating on me. I know it!"
Harry stared at him.
"What are you talking about?"
"Just look at that object in your hand."
Harry looked.
In his hand was the most hidden of all portkeys, secreted in Place X on Ron.
"Hmm," said Harry, grimacing. "Maybe should have thought that one through a little."
Ron grinned. Which sounds a bit like Grint.
This reminded Harry of the Grinch, so he dropped the portkey and make like a Grinch, aiming his snout in Snape's direction.
"Grinchy grinchy grinchy," he sang, serenading Snape.
"Yes…" Snape replied, backing away slowly. "There's a good little Potter…"
"We love the Grinch! We love the Grinch!" Harry chanted, certain that his Grinchy wiles were winning Snape over.
"Ah… I should really be cleaning the potions room now… You keep practising that Grinch look for later. Ahem."
With that, Snape was gone, and Harry was left Grinching away to Ron.
Ron didn't mind though. He was easily pleased.
Fred and George entered the room, although exactly which room the pair were in hasn't been established, along with Ginny. Thought it would be nice to have a group sing song.
"La la, Grinch man, yeah, we love him sooooo!" the Weasleys sang, grinchily.
Harry smiled. This was exactly why he loved those guys.
Meanwhile, Snape was on his way back down to the dungeons, cursing certain Dr Zeuss loudly and with great gusto, when he stumbled across a rather odd spectacle.
It appeared that Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Cedric Diggory and Oliver Wood himself were all eerily obsessed with Wood's head.
As Snape peered closer, he realised that Wood's hair was incredibly shiny. Almost irresistibly so…
Since Snape never gave a rat's arse for hair conditioner his whole life, it can only be concluded that this must be some dark, evil AND dastardly plan.
Can Harry and Ron save the day and unbewitch those entranced by Oliver's hair?
Will Neville ever get down from the chandelier?
Will Harry get over his Grinch obsession?
Will Hermione stay dead?
Find out…well, now actually.
Meanwhile Neville was sitting in the chandelier, swinging away like a chariot. He finally managed to swing low enough (sweet chariot) to jump down from the lighting receptacle.
"Hurrah! I knew I was in Gryffindor for a reason!"
He ran from the potions room, stamping on Hermione's head as he did so, and towards the unknown place where Harry and half the Weasley family were singing about some green, hairy version of Scrooge.
"Everyone? Come quickly! Everyone is obsessing over Oliver's hair!"
"Finally!" exclaimed Ron, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "We can use the Black-mobile!"
They ran as fast as they could to the Black-mobile, which was only two metres away and actually just a cardboard box that Ron had painted black and cut wheel shaped holes in the side (bit disappointing really) and jumped in.
"To Oliver's hair!" Harry said, and they ran along, the black-mobile cardboard box perched precariously on their heads, until they reach Oliver and his hair glare.
"Wow," said Harry. "It really is shiny."
"It's so beautiful," whispered Ron.
"I want to touch it," said Neville.
And they were entranced.
Meanwhile, from the shadows a menacing figure appeared, rubbing its hand gleefully.
"My plan worked. No one can resist the beauty of Oliver Wood and his fabulous hair! Mwahahaha!"
The figure threw back his hood to reveal none other than –gasp- Voldemort!
This was the point where Harry would usually would save the day with some death defying something or other, however he was so obsessed with Oliver's hair, he didn't notice a thing, and Voldemort was unhindered in his quest for world domination.
The End.
P.S. Oliver Wood's ever-so shiny hair was brought you by Herbal Essences. Yes, yes, yes!
P.P.S. Ron went on to save the day and JK Rowling cashed in on releasing a new series based on the Great One's adventures.
P.P.P.S. Hermione was resuscitated only to leave the hospital and be killed by a stray dive-bombing owl.
P.P.P.P.S. Snape and Harry made up. A lot.
P.P.P.P.P.S. The same dive bombing owl that rid the world of Hermione for good also carried Neville back up to the chandelier. He never did get down, but Dumbledore ensured he was well cared for until the day he died. After that, Neville was on his own.
The (honest to God) End.