I dedicate this chapter to everyone who is helping me along with their sweet sweet reviews. (Please don't kill me when you read it and realize how dumb it is!) I love reviews like molemen love trenches….hehehehe…anyways, thank you ever so much to my darlings: katya, Lily the Looter, Black Triforce, Jenny, Brick retarded weatherman, me gusta books, Mz Hellfire, Sabine Strohem-Moss, Mecha Scorpion, and Kalira.
I know this is very VERY late, so to reiterate: Harry got in trouble with the cops because of that Blobby elf, Freddie, Jason, and Ron have rescued him and now they've arrived at the Burrow via Harry's illegal motorized cart. Er, oh yes, and the Burrow happens to be trenches. And now without delay, please enjoy:
Chapter Two: Trench Sweet Trench
In the middle of Harry's grimacing, a plump redhaired woman popped out of the trenches, fury etched into her face and an excavating helmet with a flashlight attached on her head. "BLOODY BASTARDS!" she roared surprisingly loud for a woman of her looks. "'AVE YOU GOT ANY IDEA OF 'OW ANGRY I AM!"
Harry had rather a good idea, actually, but he wasn't about to say so.
The woman was soon out of the trench and stumbling her way over to them. "CAR—GONE—hic—NO—NOTE—YOUR FATHER—hic—BLIMEY—"
"Mum, you're drunk again," Freddie sighed.
The woman roared. "DON'T YOU—hic—TALK TO ME THAT WAY, JASON!"
"Freddie."
"FRANKY!"
Suddenly Harry gasped. He'd been wracking his brain trying to remember where he'd seen this woman before. Now he remembered.
"You're the one at the train station last fall," he said. "The one with the Pornogon Alley magazine."
The woman, in the middle of a long shouting match, blushed. "Oh, er, I'm sure you're thinking of someone else, my darling. I'd never— hic—be carrying any-anything of the sort, heehee." Suddenly there was a rustling noise and a few Pornogon Ally mags fell down her dress and landed at her feet. The woman, looking very embarrassed, finally stopped her yelling and coughed. "Boys, why don't you—hic—come inside and have yer breakfast?"
Breakfast turned out to be mole livers served in the mess trench inside excavating helmets, and Harry was deeply disgusted. When Freddie caught his obvious grimace, he smiled and said, "Get used to it. It's breakfast, lunch, and dinner here." Which of course only deeply depressed Harry even more.
A small squeak was heard from the corner of the trench. A short girl with bright red hair stood there clutching a blankie. "Hey, I remember you!" Harry cried. "You're the girl from the train station with no personality or purpose!"
The girl blushed and her head exploded. She whirled around and ran away.
"That's my little sister Ginny," Ron said. "She quite fancies you, Harry." Harry puffed up with pride. Perhaps she could start a fan club for him.
Jason sighed. "I'd better go after her. We'd usually let her just die from the blood loss, but she's vital to the plot, you know…" Suddenly the gaggle of random fans ran up to Jason and slapped him. "Characters do not know the plot!" they cried. However, when Jason pulled out a machete and chopped one of them to bits, they relented and disappeared as randomly as they came. Jason followed Ginny.
Suddenly a lanky man with balding red hair entered the mess trench. "Breakfast, breakfast…hello Molly dear…Freddie, Ron, and—can this be the famous Harry Potter?"
Harry's head once again swelled up to about 2.375 times its normal size, but then Arthur Weasley said, "Didn't we meet at our New Year's party? Any good at all?"
Harry punched the muddy wall of the trench. How much longer would he be subjected to being known for the actions this other Harry Potter committed? But when the wall suddenly leaked out dirt, Harry giggled nervously and patted it.
The whole thing caved in. "Blast," Harry muttered. "Oh, quite alright, it happens all the time," Mr. Weasley assured him.
Harry sighed. "I was sort of afraid of that…"
Life at the Burrow was nothing like life with the Dursley-zombie-things. For one, Mr. Weasley was not exaggerating when he said that cave-ins were a regular occurrence. For another, it was rather hard to keep your food down when you were sitting at a table with a lesbian, a crossdresser, Prissy, and two horror characters. For yet another, Ginny seemed to fancy him and made up for her complete lack of personality by exploding as regularly as possible around him. And for yet another, there was so much innuendo in that last sentence I wouldn't be surprised if I got mobbed by those random readers right now.
The days passed by in a dull, slow blur. Harry shared Ron's room, which was a rather disturbing experience he never wanted to talk about. Not only did Ron's shabby rat Scabbers try to kill Harry in his sleep several times, but Ron wore a lacy nightgown to bed. Harry still got nightmares today, wherever he might be, middle-aged and boring or just dead. The only mildly exciting thing that ever happened was when Mrs. Weasly asked the boys to de-mole the trenches. The only good part of that was Harry was not bored to death, only to tears.
Harry was so relieved when summer was at an end and it was time to go to Diagon Alley to buy his new school supplies. There were a bunch of funny-sounding books on his school list, all about some weirdo named Gilderoy Lockhart. Har de har har har…more like BLOCK-heart, the cruel part of Harry's mind said. Hold on, how does that make any sense? The reasonable part asked. Harry decided to not think anymore and revel in his brilliance instead. But the time for reveling was over, because there was Mrs. Weasley, getting ready to leave for Diagon Alley with the children clustered about her, holding a large—
Oh no…Harry thought when he realized what it was, completely forgetting that he promised not to think anymore.
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Phew. I know, I know, it took so long and yet it was short and very boring. But its not my fault…this part of the book is so boring, I shoulda prolly skipped it. But I suck so, yeah. And I know it's a cliffhanger and everyone is on the edge of their seats wondering what Mrs. Weasley is holding. If I knew I'd tell you…I just needed to put in something exciting. Don't worry I'll come up with something.
Moleman: It's that time again…..
Mrs. Weasley: No, it's not, I just had the boys de-mole the trenches yesterday!
Moleman: No, not that! It's time to………
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