"Eh, Whatever"
by Nina
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Rainbow Connection" or Harry Potter. Sue me. Wait, actually, don't sue me.
Dedication: My friends. You all are so much love. And you inspire crazy fics. YAY!
Note: This is a parody, folks. I am making fun of Suethors, shipping, and bad songfics. I actually know how to type. The internet speak here is purely for fun. Flames will be used to heat up my skillet. Pancakes, anybody? Also, this is going to take place in the sixth-year. Haha. Let's all disregard HBP until further notice.
Rain fell. And fell. And fell. Students entered the Great Hall. And entered. And entered. A hot girl who appeared new came in. She was hot. Really hot. And had pink hair. She was sorted into Gryffindor because the author thought that was really clever. Really, really clever.
"OMG YOU GUYS. Welcome to lyk a new year Hogwarts Skewl of Witches n Wizards, yawl. There is gonna b lyk a Yuel Ball hurr evin tho it was part of lyk da Triwizerd Turnnnament. We mite have a maskerade ball 2. So that will b fun. Also tha Ferbidden Forrestt iz off limitz n all. Dun do thurr, ya hurr?" Dumbledore sat down.
The students like oh-my-gawd totally went up to the dorms, and then I, being the cool author that I am, left out the Sorting because I can't come up with any good names or anything, but just let me assure you, I would have made up a killer song.
More rain fell on the windows of the school, and every student in Gryffindor had a cold, black heart, and they went to their dorms in their misery, their withered bodies tired and so, so hurt as they slept.
However, one student was still awake, his forehead pressed to the cool glass of the window in the Gryffindor common room. The rain was just like his soul: cold and wet. He was so tired and pained because his godfather had just passed on, and he was the only person who could kill Voldemort, so DON'T THINK OF TELLING ME HARRY WOULD HAVE MORE SENSE THAN TO BE EMO, OKAY? BECAUSE HE IS EMO!
Harry had arrived at this new term to find his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, snogging on the train and totally leaving him out of everything, and that sucked, so he went to the toilets on the train and pulled out some eyeliner. Carefully, though his hand shook with rage and the emptiness within him, he applied black eyeliner around his eyes. Black like his heart. Black like his soul. He cried black tears of emo sadness in the loo until the train pulled up to Hogwarts.
But now, Harry was in the common room and trying to dissect his feelings for a certain Slytherin because the author cannot come up with anything new and thinks that slash is major hot. This certain Slytherin is (surprise, surprise) Draco Malfoy, who he has hated with a passion for the previous five years because his father is buddies with the man who killed his parents, and because the gel-for-brains prat has bullied his best mates for years. Suddenly, however, none of this matters, because Harry knows that Draco has a delicate butterfly soul and one day, Harry will drag it out of them, and they will live forever in a flat together and fuck for hours with handcuffs and guns involved, because, after all, emo boy + emo boy + gun bang bang bang.
Yes, Harry knows that Draco is actually kind and gentle inside, and will not follow in his father's evil, black-booted footsteps (le gasp!) and become a Death Eater. Besides, Tom Felton is pretty damn hot.. Hoo boy, he certainly is.
Anyway, Harry was sitting by the window yadda yadda yadda, when Draco walked in.
"Draco?" asks Harry.
"Harry?" asks Draco.
They stared at each other through jaded, tired eyes, both of their bodies like oh-so-totally aching for one another, and no one even stops to think how the fuck Draco got into the Gryffindor tower, because DAMN, that boy is FINE.
"You don't love me. We're mortal enemies." Harry looks down and tears form in his emerald, green, vivid, beautiful, plot-point eyes.
"Oh, but the angst!" Draco yells emphatically, his hand over his heart and his beautiful chiseled features shadowed with grief and, inversely, love.
"True, true." Harry nods and looks to the window again, his eyeliner smudged. "But we cannot love, for Warner Brothers would never be able to make it into a movie!"
"They can make it a higher rating!"
"No, they cannot. Ever since the Super Bowl when Justin Timberlake exposed one of Janet Jackson's breasts at half-time, things have never been the same in movies or television again. And George Bush is a prude."
"But, Harry! I have HANDCUFFS!"
Harry thought—for like, one second!
"We must keep our love a secret!"
And then they fucked and forgot about foreplay because foreplay is so last season. But they were both tortured inside because Harry couldn't stop thinking about the pink-haired transfer student from Gingalingajojimo. And neither could Draco. So they were tortured and black-hearted and oh, so gothik.
Why are there so many
Songs about rainbows?
And what's on the other side
Rainbows are visions
But only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide…
Meanwhile, back in the girls' dorm, Ron and Hermione screwed like rabbits, and totally forgot about Harry because he is a distraction to their love. BUT WAIT! THEY MUST BE TORTURED TOO!
"Ron," panted Hermione.
"Yeah?"
"Listen. I think I'm in love with Draco, kk?"
"Coolness. I'm kinda diggin' that transfer student from America. Did you know that the Sorting Hat gave up on sorting her and she got to choose her own house? That's hot. And she was wearing Etnies. She's so punk and tormented. She listens to Papa Roach."
"I'm going to go down to the common room at this particular moment."
"'Kay."
Hermione walked down the stairs of the girls' dorms, her silky, straight, bleach-blonde hair flowing behind her, waving in the wind that has appeared because I feel like it. Harry and Draco stop and stare as Hermione pulls off her satin robes and she begins to take off her black, lacy lingerie.
"Wait! Hermione! We're just friends!" Harry yells, because he really has loved his father all along, who is really Remus Lupin because James and Remus switched bodies so James could save his own ass and live for Harry. "And I don't love you either, Draco! Oh, I'm so emo, I don't know who I love. I'm going to go listen to Papa Roach… I tear my heart open, just to feel…"
Draco and Hermione stared blankly for a moment and suddenly, their lips brushed and Draco ran his hands down her curvy body.
"This is so wrong," Hermione intones huskily.
"But so right…"
So we've been told
And some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong wait and see
Someday we'll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me…
"Hi," Ron said as he sat down on the transfer student's bed. She sat up and pushed her plaid covers to the edge of her bed and took off her headphones because Dumbledore said that she could listen to music at Hogwarts. "Tell me everything about you, you're so interesting."
"Well, my name is Arimedtha Elitha Riddle. I'm Voldemort's daughter. He abandoned me at a young age. My mother was a drug addict but used to be a very talented witch. She died. I'm really punk, did you know that? I shop at Hot Topic, and I was born with pink hair. I can change my appearance at will and do wandless magic and I'm in a band called the Skullz of Death, and we're hardxcore punk rawk like Good Charlotte. Also, I get visions like Raven on That's So Raven. It's pretty hot."
"Wow…" Ron gazed at her, mesmerized, and suddenly realized that he was rich now because his dad was the Minister of Magic. "Hey! Want to go to Hogsmeade even though we can't be out of bed after hours and we have set visits a few times a year and can't go to Hogsmeade at any other time?"
"Heckyes I do!"
Who said that ev'ry wish
Would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
Look what it's done so far
What's so amazing
That keeps us star-gazing?
And what do you think we might see
Someday we'll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me…
So the year passed on and yadda yadda yadda… basically, there was this fricken sweet battle and Mary Sue—I mean Arimedtha, yeah, Arimedtha, she won the war. So now they're having this Masquerade Ball.
"How should I wear my hair?" Hermione asks, because she has totally forgotten about her lessons and everything and wants to look just like Paris Hilton.
"Hm," Ginny thought for a moment. "How about you put it into a bun and then have pretty curls hanging down on the side. On that note, we should so get you some Gucci shoes and a Prada dress… and this common room? Ugh. I'm thinking pink, ladies."
All of us under its spell
We know that it's probably magic
Have you been half asleep
And have you heard voices
I've heard them calling my name
Is this the sweet sound
That calls the young sailors
The voice might be one and the same…
Harry, Ron, Arimedtha, Hermione, and Ginny all stared down at Draco's grave. Oh, why did he have to die at the hands of Voldemort? WHY? NOW THERE WILL BE NO MORE PARTS FOR TOM FELTON TO PLAY!
The rain fell as it has fallen throughout this entire story without ceasing, just like everyone's tears, for this sadness is so depthless and so endless that it can never end. Derr.
"WHY?" Harry thought as he fell to the ground and shook his fists to the sky. "I CARE MORE ABOUT DRACO THAN ABOUT MY PARENTS AND ABOUT SIRIUS! HE HAD HANDCUFFS! I LOVED HIM! HE MADE ME MIXTAPES OF SWEET SWEET SCENEKID LOVE!"
Ron sat in his sadness in a chair that he conjured up out of nowhere and Arimedtha used her powers to resurrect Draco. She, however, began fading into a funnel where all the bad Sues from every fandom must go. There, she met her counterparts from Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, Lord of the Rings, and Star Trek.
"It is a sad, sad day," Snape began, who turned out not to be evil because of the secret love he has held in his heart for Hermione Granger since the first day he saw her. "Draco has died, and with it, the secret of my goatee. We shall never know if I have one or not."
"And Tom Felton won't get to be in any more of the movies."
"Yeah, that sucks too."
"HIS YUMMY ABS!" Hermione screamed as she was wrested from the graveyard by random, nameless Hogwarts students who serve no other purpose.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm supposed to be
Someday we'll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me…
"Yo, that suckizzles lyk a mofizzle. Newayz, I gotz 2 go n b wit mah homedawgz da club. Menirva n I r gunna hook up or sumthin." Dumbledore rode off in his hummer, and the lame author tried to decipher what she had just written.
FIN.