A/N: As this is the final week before school starts (ahhh! Freshman! High school:hides: ), I will try to get out as much of this as possible. In the beginning of September, postings may be sparse, but fear not, for all this craziness :taps head: has to go somewhere…
This chapter is dedicated to Paranoid Sarcasm, for making me laugh and jump around squealing like a guinea pig on crackafter getting my first review for this fic. And for just being awesome. It's also dedicated to Moony June, for pointing out to me that anonymous reviews were disabled. Oops… Thanks!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything connected with him. If I did, do you think Sirius would be dead? And also, the lovely Spirit that you get to meet here is courtesy of The Prank War by CrazyGirl47, who is awesomely awesome. That's all! Now ON TO THE MADNESS :charges:
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Chapter Four: Posture, Actions, Tone of Voice, Choice of Words
It was a scene of pure chaos. Everyone tried to decide whether to stay there and discover the source of the pandemonium or to run for it, and in the meantime a thick green smoke hissed out of the cauldron and ensured that no one could see a thing. Sirius would've yelled at whoever left out 3 tons of cheese to rot for five years (that's what it smelled like, at any rate) but he didn't bother opening his mouth because a) he wouldn't be heard over the noise of teenage boys running all over the room, knocking over books, tables, and each other, and b) his brain (yes, he does have one, it's just hidden under all that hair) caught up with him and forced him to realize it was probably the potion.
Meanwhile, James had taken a quidditch poster down from the wall and started to fan away the haze. Everyone wished that he hadn't, though, when they saw the source of the commotion: the disgustingly green potion had emptied from the cauldron, and in its place was something that looked like a reptillian dairy-midget from hell.
Imagine cheese. A lot of it. Entire wedges--of every kind: cheddar, brie, limburger, provolone, Swiss, mozzarella--you name it. Throw one on top of the other, until you have a massive cheese mosh pit/orgy. Then heat all of that up for a few minutes, so that they all mesh together and become inseparable. (This would also construct the smell.) After that, let it sit for about a month, to let it congeal. Now give it beady eyes and tens of shark-like teeth, but nothing else to suggest a face. That, my friend, would be the lovely creature we will dub, say, the Cheese Spirit. :cue the chorus of spooky OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH's:
Remus started and launched himself into the nearest person's arms--which just happened to be James's, and which promptly dropped the werewolf on his bum. Now, keep in mind, these are four teenage boys, only in the company of each other. According to the Teenage Boy Code of Conduct, Section four, Paragraph Nine, it is stated:
"Whilst in the presence of other teenage girls (for definition, see 'Females' section, page one, paragraph two), the Teenage Boy must keep up a manly front, which can be defined as such: Posture, Actions, Choice of words, and Tone of Voice, all of which must be demonstrated during times of panic. (In said times of panic, the Teenage Boy can remember these instructions quite easily: It's as simple as P-A-C-T.) (Thought I was gonna go for some weird acronym there, didn't you? Like A-S-S, or P-R-A-T, or some such….well, you're wrong; I'm too mature a writer for that.) (All right, so I couldn't figure out suitable instructions for T-W-I-T. Shut up. :Goes back to narrator duties: ) To avoid embarrassment, Teenage Boy must also act masculine in front of enemies, especially in times of panic--this includes hiding any weakness, affectation, or any human emotion that could be construed as fear."
James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus all stopped in their panic for a moment to consult the Teenage Boy Code of Conduct (they all kept a copy in their robes, just in case) and, concluding that there was no one else in the room, they all screamed like little girls.
"SILENCE!" the Cheese Spirit boomed, for lack of a better word, REALLY REALLY LOUDLY, and gave a rather Umbridge-like (though they didn't know this at the time, as Umbridge had not yet reached her true vileness) grin at the fact that he (She? It? Anyone willing to look at a Cheese Spirit's genitals to determine its gender, go right ahead…) had everyone's attention. With his English vocabulary seemingly spent on this one word, he proceeded to proclaim, "BOOGA BOOGA!"
Jaws--> drop. Sirius grunted out of the side of his mouth: "Don't….move….it….won't….notice….us."
Dear old Cheesy--gasp-- noticed this, and promptly lunged for the one who spoke. Black was (or seemed to be, anyway) prepared for this, and, having dropped his wand in the mayhem, steadied himself and prepared to take this Lactose bastard down--the Muggle way. First just the two of them, then James jumped in, then Peter, then Remus--it was a good old fashioned tackle-fest that Hulk Hogan would be proud of. (Even though he wouldn't, because he had no idea they existed…but that's not relevant. Hem hem.)
-Several "RAWR"'s, "I KEEL YOU!"'s, and smack-downs later…-
Peter clamped a lock--no, two locks--no, make that three-- on the previously empty wardrobe, and proceeded to slump against it as it rattled menacingly. The four boys had put up an amazing fight, but they had no idea how to permanently rid themselves of this demon. So, having had much practice on this procedure with unsuspecting first-years, they locked it in the closet. They were all exhausted, and chose to do what teenage boys do best--straighten themselves up and go down to dinner. It was when James looked in the mirror to tame his hair when he noticed…the pink. Everywhere. Every visible centimeter of skin was covered with a flaming fuchsia. Speaking of flaming…
For the second time that day, James whipped out his Teenage Boy Code of Conduct. Frantically turning to "Masculinity through Homophobia," he read:
"Screw what they say in fashion magazines--real men have never and will never be caught wearing pink. Any clothing material bearing this evil effeminate colour should be immediately disposed of, preferably through burning."
Normally, James would at least take its advice into consideration, but given that the evil was on his skin, he wasn't too keen on the idea of burning it off. It was then that he turned around and looked at his mates, all of whom sported the same shade as he. "Er, guys, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but…" he motioned helplessly at them.
The other three promptly looked down, and wasted no time in screaming like aforementioned little girl. They were covered, absolutely covered--except for some areas where it was a blotched mix of fuchsia and normal skin color. Being the geniuses that they were ( :snorts: I mean…erm…), they sorted out that the pink was in the spots that the Cheese Spirit touched them. It was just now that they realized that having extreme contact with strange, smelly, deformed creatures who came out of cauldrons -might- not have been such a good idea…
