Disclaimer: We don't own Harry Potter. Face it folks. We know we write as well as J.K. Rowling, but that doesn't mean we are multyi-trulti-millionares like her!
Ooooooooookay! So, chapter 12(a ong chappie)! In which not enuf happens to entertain Charletto! (She didn't like it very much...u see, she wrote the first part, and I, Emmy, finished it off. Then she added some at the end, then I added some.) Well, anyways. Now that it is SUMMER! Oh, glorious SUMMER, we will be writing and posting a lot more. I am sad/happy to say that Cocabella is and will be 2,000 miles away in a remote country in South America at the moment, and will be there for two months. You see, I am sad for us(poor Charletto and I), and happy for her. -Hehehe, I'm rereading this before I post it, andI noticed my grammar is already failing! YAY, summmer!-
Sorry we haven't posted for so long, but because of graduation...I am deeply sad to say that the 3sadlostogslightlymadsouls are all going to different high schools next year!
Charletto: a preppy, posh, peppy boarding school on the east coast of transylvania vith all ze vampires! Mwahaha...or on the east coast of the u.s.(stalkers, beware!)
Cocabella: Our current school's feeder school. Very nice Catholic school.
Emmy: ME! the specialest one who wishes she were at Hogwarts! Well, that's it-there really is a school for magical ppl! I'll post it here for an hour or so-becuz i dont want the world of magic to know i let the magicless-ppl know- but it is called Sparrowswood School for girls and boys! I'm going there next year! It's in northern Oregon! Yep! Or maybe I'm going to a different Catholic school from Cocabella where I live...or maybe NOT! Maybe I'm going to the uber-cool, so special, priceless, A-list school for witches and wizards of the adolescence!
And, so, here is Chapter 12-I'll leave the title Charletto wanted at the top of the story...
And when (not if :( -obey the unibrow smiley or die!) you review, please tell us whether you like pointless, yet wonderful random chapters(where random objects and happenings appear at all times), or chapters with random occurences-based on one random event.
CHAPTER 12: The Chapter in which not much happens!
Ron stumbled slowly back to the Gryffindor common room, rubbing his newly scarred forehead and wincing. He was walking with a limp, his clothes were torn, and someone had pasted a hastily scribbled "SNOG ME" parchment to the back of his worn maroon sweater; it had taken him the better part of an hour to escape from the mob of rabid HarryRingo fans. Under the impression that "HarryRingo's" face had been smashed in, the hysterical fans tried to fix it, and Ron was now silently cursing two black eyes and a mean nosebleed. He limped slowly up the corridor and through the portrait portal, the fat lady shooting him a mistrustful look and muttering about hooligans brawling on campus.
Behind him, Malfoy leaned out from around a corner, drooling. "Mmmm, my gawd, Goyle, did you see him?"
Goyle leaned out as well. "Ehhh…"
Malfoy's face was flushed. "He was so hot! I didn't know Weasleys could look so fine! I wonder if he did something new with his hair….and that eye make-up he had on was turning me on!"
"Ehhhh," said Goyle.
"Omigod…" Malfoy played with his hair and stared off thoughfully. "I wonder if Severus has seen him yet…Omigod!" He darted off down the corridor, black robes swirling behind.
"Ehhhhhh…" Goyle stood absent-mindedly for a moment, before spotting a shiny hairclip that Malfoy had dropped as he ran, and shuffled off in that direction.
The Fat lady leaned back in her painted chair, wondering what by the Merlin's beard that was all about. She'd seen teenage girls stalking boys before, and vice-versa, but this…this was new. Well, not that new, she thought as she fiddled absently with her crocheted handkerchief, she'd seen boys and girls going after the same sex before, sure, but they'd always been very modest about it, very nervous…she'd given counseling to many a trembling and insecure teen just coming to terms with their sexual orientation. But this boy had been so…so…enthusiastic…
……………………………….
Ron limped into the common room, muttering, his nose sending drops of blood dropping down to the already crimson carpet. He was just painfully mounting the stairs to the dormitories as an unsteady voice behind him spoke up.
"Rrrrrrrooonnnnburp!" Harry was reclining lazily on two soft armchairs pulled up together, and, as Ron whirled around in surprise, unsteadily waved a large mug of some foul-smelling substance like some type of twisted trophy. "Whhhat'rre yew dooooin' a-allll th'wayyy uppp hurr belch Wh- whut happenened to yer ferheaad?" Harry screwed his face up in confusion, trying to see clearly through beer goggles and dim fire-light.
Ron stared.
"Weeelll…I'av bean haiven' ay grrrrrrrrreat hiccup time hurr….You shuld've seen 'er Rooonnnn…that gurl…." Harry trailed off, glassy-eyed.
Ron stared.
Harry hiccupped.
Ron rubbed his stubbly chin. He thought of what to do. He could wash off his face, change into another sweater, and sleep. This was normal. That is what any normal person would do. But Ron wasn't normal. He was a beaten-up redhead with a smashed-in face, a scar in resemblance of a submarine, a bit of a girl-problemchuckle, chuckle ,and a laugh that sounded like a frog. But even above all this, he was a huge nerd with absolutely NO acne! What a joke… Normal? Never. So Ron decided to do what non-normal, non-cool, non-famous and drop-dead handsome people do. He put his own comfort behind that of his friend.
He sighed, and smiled at his best friend. Harry returned the gesture, blowing spit-bubbles in Ron's direction.
"Let me help you up to your room, there, buddy," whispered Ron, trying to keep Harry's little escapade a secret. Or, more likely, he wanted to keep the rest of Gryffindor from finding out about his state of appearance. He could feel the blood and snot from his nose all over his face and knew it probably wasn't a pretty sight. But it did taste good. He walked a step towards Harry, and started to lift his arm over his shoulder.
Then, with so much importance and in such an implausible manner that it required an entirely new paragraph, a voice stopped him!
A very feminine, very sultry voice. In Ron's opinion at least. Three more voices joined it. They were singing. Oh, the singing. What lovely singing. He almost dropped Harry, and had a sudden urge to run to those voices.
The serenading voices became louder, and Ron's heart rang with pleasure as he realized (being the uber-smart person he is) that that meant they were coming closer. No longer caring about how he looked, he dropped the still-drunk Harry and made a last effort to look sexy before they came. In Ron's hopeless case, this meant running a bloody hand through his hair.
He sat down and gasped as the owners of the voices entered the common-room.
There were four girls in matching, but different-colored dresses. Ron licked his lips as he looked at them. They were standing in a line; the two on the outside blonde. The two in the center were both brunettes, one with very thick curly brown hair. She had a pleasant face and deep brown eyes. The other had black, straight, and very shiny-to the extent that it looked almost greasy- hair. Ron didn't care for these two. Sure, they were dancing rather nicely. And the one with the black hair (who wore a blood-red dress) had very nice legs. Ron's eyes were focused on one of the blondes. The one the left was making very suggestive movements with his…I mean her, well…Ron was enticed in any case. She wore a Black Halter dress, and she wore a pendant in the form of a snake with emerald eyes in her hair. Her hair was platinum, and pulled back into a long pony-tail.
Ron started walking towards her without noticing. He ran another hand through his hair. As he stared at her he mumbled something under his breath.
Hey Shorty. It's my birthday….You'll find me in the club…I'm in there….
Ron was in a trance. He didn't notice Harry, who appeared to be happily having seizures on the floor. He didn't see the other blonde, though still dancing, stare off into the corner of the room and continue staring there in a dream-like state. He didn't see the dancer with black hair trying to catch his attention with some racy moves. He only had eyes for her.
But Ron wasn't totally mesmerized. He was still a bit insecure. His mind twisted into dreams of them together. He saw them in all kinds of places, doing all kinds of things. But he quite honestly thought he was dreaming when she started walking towards him. There was no way that girl was interested in him. He gave her a grin, which she returned with a small smile and even more dancing, now only a foot from where he stood.
As the inches between them drew to a close, his heart beat quicker then it ever had before. That whole Hermione and coin thing had been bit of a low-point in the day. Things were about to get better.
He closed his eyes as he felt her breath on his neck. He made a reach for her. He grunted as he stumbled. Where was she? Where he knew she must have been a second before…there was only air now. Ron's violence-addled brain mentally screwed up its forehead in thought. Maybe it had only been a dream.
Damn. Well, we can't linger on lusty hopes, can we, Ron? I guess we should help Harry.
He sighed one last time and turned around. He fell back on the ground. The four girls weren't a dream. But they were all clustered around Harry. And Harry, even in his equally addled state of mind, seemed to be enjoying it.
Ron just stared in shock, that is- until the blonde girl he had been so excited about stroked Harry's cheek and climbed into his lap. All of the sudden, his world came crashing down. This was the worst day of his day! Of his life, even! He didn't care what people thought about his face anymore! He burst up into tears, and leaving puddles behind him, ran up the stairs into his dorm.
The girl with the curly brown hair burst out laughing. She fell over backward with mirth. "That was great! That was absobloodylutely fantastic! I think I'm going to die." She rolled in circles on the floor, clutching her stomach.
The other three were equally amused.
The brown-haired girl was the only one capable of talking. "Harry, though, you almost ruined it! You were practically having seizures! And Luna, you were staring off into the corner of the room for close to five minutes! It was lucky I found that spell to make us such seductive dancers, or else I think you might have just wandered off. And Severus, did you do something to your legs? Shave, wax, tell me! They look great!"
She gestured in the blonde in the black halter's direction, "Ron seemed especially interested in you."
The girl looked delighted. She..or was it a he, pulled off his wig. "Do you really think so?" He giggled.
"Yea, he really went for you Malfoy. But that last part? When you climbed in my lap? You were just joking around right? I mean, that was a bit creepy. And perverted. I really…" said Harry, looking around awkwardly.
Draco was still fantasizing about Herm's comment. He jerked up his head, "Oh, sure, Harry, sure. Of course it was all a joke." He winked at Severus.
They just lay rolling around the floor for a few minutes, laughing. Hermione finally sat up.
"Oh, I love making Ron cry! You guys on for doing it again next week?"
Everyone, especially Draco and Severus("he looks so cute when he's crying!) nodded.
"Luna? You up for it?" asked Hermione, curious.
Luna was staring off into space.
"Mmmm…snigglevusses."
Hermione stared distractedly for a moment. "Mm…yes, well. That's all good then." She got up off the floor with a pert sigh. "Well, I suppose we should all get back to our dormitories…"
Harry looked up. "Hang on, we're forgetting a few people."
"Mm?" Hermione was pulling on her sweater.
Harry pointed out of the computer screen. "What about the authors? I'm sure they'd have a wonderful time screwing around with Ron's mind…Cocabella can do costumes, Emmy can do dance moves, and Charletto can be drunk with me!"
The 3sadlostogslightlymadsouls blushed and smiled with pleasure. "Wow, that's the first time we've had our own story characters invite us to join in a fanfiction…thanks, guys!"
"You're very welcome."
Charletto was confused. "Wait a moment. What happened to all that lovely stuff about Harry being obsessed with chainmail and twitching and snogging a fifth year while drunk in the astronomy tower? I thought that was funny…"
Harry smiled. "Oh, well, you see, right now we're taking an objective outlook to the story, explaining things to the readers and all that, you know, all this about the fictional characters actually having a conversation with the authors, so we thought-"
"You mean we thought…" interrupted Charletto.
"No, we thought, as in the characters; we aren't really fictional, you know..."
Charletto frowned. cool and creepy Twilight Zone music
"Anyway," Harry continued, "we thought that I might actually be coherent for the objective part of the fanfiction, so we could continue this cool joke thing on Ron later, and then resume insanity once the audience had been properly informed."
Charletto smiled hopefully. "Oh, so soon you'll be drunk again?"
Harry smiled reassuringly. "As soon as we work out who will help in orchestrating the joke, and I resume my fictional personality, yes."
Charletto bounced with pleasure.
Cocabella leaned over to Emmy and whispered something in her ear.
Emmy frowned, "Yea…I know. Charletto always adds us into the story after I send her a rough draft she doesn't like. And, it's not just that! She gets a whole long conversation with the dashing, moody lead character of the story, and all we get is dance moves and costumes… And it's a parody! It is random, don't you think, readers? This is our first real parody chapter (till the end), and all she can say is 'I want rabid squirrels with hankerings for pop tarts.' We just had Harry go after a pastry a few chapters ago. Isn't that enough? And I, Emmy, have to admit that Cocabella and I feel kind of left out in talking. I mean, Cocabella gets one gesture and I get this. Oh wait… I think I do have another line coming up…let's marvel at how important this one is."
Charletto's confused frown deepened. "Hey, it was orange squirrels with hankerings for raspberry tarts…honestly, Emmy, you ought to-" Cocabella hit her round the back of the head.
Hermione sighed. "Well now that that's done with, let's all get back to our dormitories before McGonagall catches us. You coming, Harry?"
"Uh-wha?" Harry swayed dangerously.
"Good god…"
Charletto crowed happily, and Emmy hit her round the back of the head.
"See! That was me in all my maternal-like, mature glory!" she said, and with that, strutted out of the room to be chased after by orange rabid squirrels with hankerings for pop tarts. (RASPBERRY!)