Author Note: Hmmmm where to begin, ahh yes reviewers, well I must thank poohead for his lovely review, I do hope you did not soil yourself in the process of reading this story. Also I must thank Darkjdeg for reviewing I'm sorry I scared you so, but GROW SOME BACKBONE DAMMIT! And finally I come to Stolen-Fate, I must thank you for your review but to be honest the whole point of this story is to be ridiculous (copy that out ten times you illiterate) and may I add ridiculous is exciting laughter; absurd, preposterous, comical, laughable and that was exactly what the story was meant to be.
Crookshanks bounded out of the forest, his flat nose tingling with delight as he circumnavigated his way through the forest towards Potty Poop's celestial being.
Crookshanks: 'Potty Poop cast thy wand away from one's forehead! You are forgetting about my adulation for you.' Caterwauled Crookshanks from beneath Viktor Krum's beefcake.
Potty Poop sobbed into his hanky, inept of hearing Crookshank's prattle. Potty Poop raised his wand and began to spiel abhorrent curses and spells. He pulled his wand back ready for the final killer blow. Suddenly to Potty Poop's repugnance Crookshanks bounded through the smoke filled air, and roundhoused Potty Poop, cuffing Potty Poop's wand though his the in the process.
Steve Irwin, who had been regarding the scene with lustful eyes from the highest treetop, pratfall onto the scene.
Steve Irwin: 'Wiow crikkkkkkey! This is the famous squash nosed cat!' Steve vaulted upwards, knife in belly and a choleric look painted upon his sweaty countenance. Crookshanks escalated, escalator like towards the fire exit. Steve and the wholesome berries encompassed Crookshanks beefy little tail. Potty Poop examining this conundrum, decided that it would be best to "make like a tree". Wand in eye, Potty Poop footslogged away from the boxing cat and Bush man.
Potty Poop strolled through the gates of Hogwarts like he had been gone five minuted.
Potty Poop: 'Alrite Dumbledore mate?' he babbled incoherently to the castle wall. People were looking round now as they saw a babbling, scar faced, four eyed, lanky teeny bopper. Forthwith, Hermione rounded a corner and clattered into Potty Poop.
Hermione: 'Oh Harry! It must be so for miracles are ceased! And therefore we must needs admit the means! How things are perfected' Hermione lamented, spittle flying in all directions. She proceeded to grab the wand protruding from Potty Poop's eye and wrench it out with such force he proceeded to ooze discharge from every pore. Emerging from a nearby greenhouse Madame Pomfrey skidded to a halt by Potty Poop's dripping person.
Madame Pomfrey: 'We must get you to the hospital wing at once' she giggled through mouthfuls of marmalade. At with that Madame Pomfrey whisked Harry off to the hospital wing her trusty spangled umbrella in hand.