Author's notes: I'd like the congratulate "Sirius the homicidal maniac" for being my first non-friend to review!!! And by non-friend I don't mean you're not my friend…I mean I didn't actually have to badger you into reading my story and reviewing! Lol! Unless I know you, and in that case…hi! *Shifty* Meh, whatever.

I'd like to thank Deadly to be the first-ever person to review!

Both of you will receive jaguars in the mail…

…and I'm not talking about the car.

Although it would be kinda big to fit in the mailbox. I'll tell you what, I'll send you a piece of mail. Any piece of mail. It might not even have my name on it. It might even be from your bank or your phone company, but rest assured, it's from me.

Just thought I'd mention I read Chapter 2 again yesterday…wow it was pointless. I'm proud of myself. Lol.

SO without further Apu…

Apu: Oh! I have been zinged!

…zee story…

Chapter 3

The first day of classes had gone by quickly and the students were already feeling at home in their favorite school…all but Oscar the grouch, who had misplaced his garbage can and was now residing in the girls' toilet. So far the year had gone off to a really good start. The sixth year Gryffindors had had an easy first day with Charms, Care of Magical Creatures with Marty the giant three-headed monkey…which was interesting to say the very least…and Herbology.

Harry Potter was relieved to see that today would be a pretty easy day as well as he sat in the Gryffindor Common Room the next morning in his sailor moon pajamas, holding his schedule out in front of him.  Most were excited to see who the new Defense Professor was going to be. Harry on the other hand was not. He wouldn't be surprised if Kreacher was revealed to be their new teacher, considering all the bad luck they'd been having with that class over the years.

"I wonder what THAT would be like," Harry spoke out loud, apparently talking to himself like those people in soap operas and looking into the camera for his close up. He then looked away from the screen, stroking his chin and looking off into space as he pictured Professor Kreacher…

***

"Good morning Professor Kreacher," the students chorused.

Kreacher, wearing an over-sized brown suit, glared at them and muttered to himself. "Filthy little blood traitors saying morning to poor Kreacher. Kreacher will tie their shoelaces together when they are not looking."

"Is there something wrong Professor?" Hermione asked, waving her S.P.E.W flag.

"Nothing to trouble yourself with Miss…" he answered cheerily. Turning his back, he began to mutter again in his usual fashion. "Muggles allowed to be mixed up with wizards…dirty little muggles with their bushy hair and smelly feet. Kreacher will kill them all, he will."

Hermione ignored him.

"Today Kreacher will teach filthy children to kill themselves…" Kreacher took out a letter opener, grinning manically.

The students shifted away, looking frightened.

"Harry, why are all your thought sequences demented?" Ron whispered. He was now a four foot clown wearing floppy shoes carrying a safe.

Harry shrugged, a strange feeling on his arm ripping him out of his little world…

***

"Harry! Hurry up or we'll be LATE!" Hermione whined, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt.

Harry shook his head slightly, looking up and seeing Hermione standing over him. "Hermione, it's 6:30 in the morning! We don't have to be in class for an hour and a half!" Harry grumbled, pulling his sleeve out of her grasp. He was extremely annoyed that he was pulled out of his daydream before the power rangers showed up.

Before Hermione could respond Ron had entered the common room, wearing his usual black suit and sunglasses.

"Is this woman bothering you sir?" He asked, his voice unusually deep and menacing.

For once, Harry was happy Ron was insane. "Yes…yes she is. Please remove her."

"WHAT! Ron! Get away from me!" she screeched as he lifted her easily over his head, nodding once to Harry and carrying her out the portrait hole. She looked kinda like a sacrifice to the gods. Wonder what she would look like with an apple stuffed in her mouth…

Harry sighed happily, sipping his margarita and grinning at the sounds of angry protest as Hermione was dropped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. He also thought he heard the sound of firecrackers going off…nah.

"Harry! Hurry up or we'll be LATE!" Harry heard beside him, turning around to see Dennis Creevey wearing a dress and bushy brown wig.

"Dennis…why are you dressed up as Hermione?" Harry asked.

"She paid me 5 sickles to stand in for her when she's incapacitated. Seems she's very serious about annoying you," Dennis explained, pulling the dress down over his little white knees.

After paying the young boy a galleon he finally stopped reciting Shakespeare, adjusted his dress one more time, and went back up to his dorm to change.

"He doesn't look half bad…" Harry appraised.

Ron entered the common room again, just spotting Dennis heading up the stairs and whistling under his breath.

"Who's the new girl? She's hot…" Ron sat on the arm of Harry's chair, playing with his tie. "Harry? Why are you laughing?"

***

At the sound of the bell, the class filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, chattering excitedly. Probably about cheese…Swiss cheese.

"Wonder who it's gonna be this time…" Ron sat down at his usual eat, Harry sitting beside him and Hermione sitting on Harry's other side. Ron eyed the other people in the classroom, making sure no unnecessary evils came near his friend....one never knows when a rogue cauliflower will be thrown.

Harry was still expecting Kreacher to show up, making sure the point of his quill was extra sharp…just in case.

"If no one shows up I'll be glad to teach again," Hermione offered, the class then pelting her with newspapers. One person threw a cauliflower, but she ducked and it hit the side of Harry's head. Ron cried out, cradling Harry's head in his arms before Harry poked him in the stomach with his sharp quill.

A murmur of confusion went through the crowd of students as they waited for the new professor, looking over at the door once in a while. It was already five minutes since class was supposed to begin and there was no teacher in sight.

"What's going on?" Seamus, fully healed from the desk-crushing incident yesterday, asked from over Harry's shoulder.

Ron shook his head. "What a stupid question. How are WE supposed to know? We're sitting here just as you are. What, you think just cause we're the main characters we're supposed to know everything?"

"Sorry," Seamus blinked, sitting back in his seat.

Just as the students were about to leave to pursue other interests…such as poking the house elves with sticks…the door finally burst open to reveal…

-Dramatic Chord-

"Oh…my…God…"

***

"Now baby, sometimes mushrooms aren't for raccoons," momma raccoon said.

Then baby came across an apple tree, and said.

"Mommy, are apples for raccoons?"

"Yes baby, you can have an apple."

At this point the author turned away from the TV and back to the writing the story.

***

"Oh…my…God…" Ron's jaw dropped.

Standing at the door, in all his shiny glory, was Michael Jackson.

Ron turned in his chair and looked at the shadowy figure sitting in the corner. "No it isn't!" He yelled at the author. "It's Percy!"

Grumbling slightly, the author deleted the last sentence, typing 'Percy Weasley' in place of 'Michael Jackson'.

Percy stood in the doorframe, figure outlined by the light of the hallway behind him, making him glow like an angel…or a disco dancer. The strange thing about Percy Weasley today was not the fact that…well…he's Percy. The strange thing was what he had decided to wear for his first day of teaching.

He had on a very gold, sequined suit, and feathered glasses. That's right, feathered. He was also carrying a briefcase, which trailed red and green paint along the floor as he took a step into the room. Apparently he had painted the leather himself…no comment. To finish off his ensemble he had on a pair of jeweled, white gloves.

The students all stared in awe, a couple screaming in pain as the light from the hall bounced off his suit and blinded them without mercy. He spun around on a heel, moonwalking down the aisle to the front of the class, then grabbing something like a certain pop star does, but I'm not allowed to mention it cause I rated this PG.

"Ron…what's wrong with your brother?" Harry whispered, eyes wide with horror.

Ron could only open and close his lips soundlessly.

"He's very…gold today," Hermione commented.

Harry snorted. "Reminds me of Malfoy's trousers."

"My life is over," Ron spoke up.

"Oh come on Ron, it's not so bad," Harry replied, watching as Percy danced on his desk. "Well, ok, so maybe it is. I'll help tie the rock to your leg. Maybe the giant octopus will take pity and eat you."

"I was thinking more along the lines of jumping into the common room fire…but the lake thing works too," Ron whimpered.

"Harry, you are NOT helping, and Ron…setting yourself on fire is not the answer…" Hermione interjected.

"Exactly! Hence the whole jumping into the lake idea...get with the program Hermione!" Harry grinned, trying not to laugh.

Oprah Winfrey grumbled from her seat at her computer, picking up the phone and calling her lawyers.

"This is not funny! NOT FUNNY!" Ron smacked the laughing Harry on the back of the head.

The three arguing protagonists of our tale were shushed as their new teacher raised a hand, calling for attention. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly hushed and high-pitched.

"Hello my lovely, lovely children," he looked around at them all, smiling. "Look at all of you. So young, so…fresh."

The kids were beginning to think he was going to make them into sandwiches.

"I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I am here to teach you Defense Against the Dark Arts. You are now sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and I, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, am standing in front of you, explaining to you that I am your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and you are in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Now that we know that you are in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class and who your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is, does anybody have any questions about Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Percy looked around the room.

They all stared back at him, blinking. Crickets could be heard in the background.

"Great! So, today I'm going to review…" (Well at least Percy reviews!)

Another dramatic pause.

"…MICHAEL JACKSON SONGS!"

Everyone cheered, pulling their white gloves on…all but Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Oh great, another incompetent teacher," Harry grumbled, poking at the piece of parchment in front of him with his quill.

"Well what did you expect…to actually learn something?" Ron shrugged, searching through his bag for his white gloves.

The rest of the class was gathered together, singing along to "Billie Jean" around the campfire they had built in the centre of the room, while Percy conducted with his wand. Hermione growled at the commotion, feeling her brain seeping out of her ears more and more as the time went on. She busied herself in her Defense text, hoping to at least learn something. Harry just sat there, as always being the only normal one in the room. And that's saying something, considering he nearly killed the most powerful dark wizard of all time when he wasn't even old enough to stop crapping in his pants.

"HUZZA!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out his white gloves and slipping them on his hands, just as the bell rang. "Awwwww crap!" He pouted. "I NEVER get to wear these," he sighed, slipping them off and putting them back into his bag.

"Uh, Ron, why are you carrying around white gloves anyway?" Harry asked, packing up his things.

Ron gave Harry a disbelieving look. "Harry, EVERYONE knows Michael Jackson likes to hang around schoolyards…I wanted to be prepared in case he ever came."

Harry shrugged. "Makes sense I guess."

"No it DOESN'T!" Hermione rolled her eyes, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"I swear I don't do anything with the children! I invite them over to sleep in my bed! Only sleep! That's it! It's very sweet actually…" Percy tried to explain.

"Oh shut up you weird pervert," Hermione snapped…who knows if she was talking about Michael Jackson…or Percy.

Harry and Ron gave each other identical looks of surprise behind Hermione's back. That was the second time in two days she had anything other then "I read Hogwarts a History" "will you two PLEASE do your homework!" and "Ron! Stop looking up my skirt!" Frankly, they were shocked.

"Ron…will you PLEASE stop looking up my skirt!" Hermione screeched, smacking Ron away from her. Both he and Harry let out a sigh of relief…all was well.

***

History of Magic was the same as always. Hermione taking notes, Ron creating plans for world domination, Harry fixing his hair in a mirror…some things never changed. Professor Binns, the ghost teacher, droned on and on about some war or another…he could've been talking about dancing llamas for all they cared. Actually, the students probably would've payed more attention if he was talking about dancing llamas. Llamas are cool.

A note fluttered onto Harry's desk, the boy looking away from his mirror for a second to pick it up and examine it. A single sentence was written on it in neat handwriting…

You are going to die.

Harry would've been scared, if he had not looked up from the note to see Parvati staring at him, wiping a tear away. He rolled his eyes, writing his own sentence underneath.

Go back to Uranus.

He passed the note back to her, grinning.

Ron leaned over, whispering in Harry's ear. "That joke's old man…it's like kicking a dead dog."

Harry shrugged, going back to fixing his hair in the mirror.

"Harry, I don't even know why you bother. Your hair is a trademark, like your scar, it'll never change," Hermione commented, not even looking up from her note taking. "And could you two please keep it down? I'm trying to listen…"

The two boys stuck their tongues out at her (well, they actually did something much ruder, but we shall not mention that here), settling for drawing rude pictures of her and the house elves, which included Hermione wearing nothing but a tea cozy with "S.P.E.W" written on it. That was Ron's idea…go figure.

Hermione spotted it out of the corner of her eye, raising an eyebrow. "Oh come on Ron, if you would just submit to my advances you'd know I look nothing like that naked…"

Ron choked.

Harry laughed.

Hermione grinned.

I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam I am.

Whoops, sorry, wrong story.

"And then…" Binns's voice suddenly broke through their conversation, bringing them back to earth. "The winged demons were cast out of Narnia…"

Two students, called Lucy and Edmund, cheered enthusiastically.

Binns was so surprised he fell through his desk, transparent mouth opened wide. The other students were just as shocked, gaping at the two kids who were still standing, not even wearing Hogwarts robes. Happiness in history class? Preposterous!

"Who are they?" Harry leaned over to ask Hermione, eyebrows furrowed. Hermione shrugged, eyes on the two kids.

Lucy and Edmund, sensing hostility, backed away from the crowd of students, crawling into a nearby wardrobe and closing the door.

Binns, having recovered from the initial shock of someone actually liking his class, continued with his lesson. "The winged demons were cast out of Narnia…"

Harry yawned, staring out the window while Ron continued to scribble on his parchment. Harry thought he saw the words "ray gun" "cotton candy machine" and "bulldozer" written in bolded letters, wondering when the teacher had mentioned any of those things. Those demons must be some party animals…the goblins never gave out cotton candy at THEIR war.

"Harry!"

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts by Hermione for the second time that day, looking around. Everyone was gone.

"WHAT HAPPENED?! IS IT THE END OF THE WORLD?! HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN DAYDREAMING!" Harry screamed, standing.

"Harry…the bell rang…it's time to go," Ron blinked, backing away.

"Oh…alrighty then," Harry shrugged, picking up his bag and walking out of the room, Ron and Hermione in tow.

***

"So I says to mable I says 'Duuuuude', and she's all 'Duuuuude' and we're all 'Duuuude'," Ron explained to a crowd of students around him. They all laughed.

Their third and last class for the day was astronomy with the Ravenclaws, and all students were chattering idly while writing one page essays on the importance of hygiene. Well, ok, only Harry was writing one and that topic, seeing as he never actually is seen taking a shower in the books. The rest were writing essays on what they learned last year in astronomy, which wasn't much. Professor Sinistra, a young witch with pitch black hair pulled back into a bun, was walking between the desks, helping students with their work and occasionally listening to one of Ron's stories.

"Ron, you're so funny," Lavender giggled, batting her eyelashes. She moved closer and began petting his head.

"It's a curse…" he replied, grimacing as she pet him. "Seriously, it is," he whispered to Harry, trying to move away from the girl at his side.

Harry nodded knowingly. Being known as the Boy Who Lived had its upside, and it's downside. And being the immature naive boy he was, he considered girls the downside…cooties and all that being rampant these days.

The rest of the class was very uneventful…unless you count the incident in which Dean threw a Ravenclaw out the window, claiming he was an alien sent there by the Swedish to steal their Quidditch uniforms. The scary thing was…he actually was an alien sent by the Swedish to steal their uniforms…they found them in his bag after he hit the ground. The school never ceases to amaze me. Who KNOWS what'll happen next.

-Dramatic Chord-

Where is that music COMING from!?!

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Shoutouts to Ishboo, Starlily, and Sarah Embry for reviewing! You are now my official sock puppet buddies!

See how well I treat my reviewers! So review and be treated well! Yup!

And once again I'd like to thank Draco for being such a ghetto nerd. Sup mutha! And for being the person to urge me to write faster and give me the most praise. Lol! No procrastination with you around!

And a shoutout to baby…NOT Nevy cause he won't review...or he'll only review when I bug him to. But baby's cool, so baby gets a shoutout. And dog too. Chicko the Chihuahua. But not Nevy. Nevy can go to hark. Hark meaning heck. Yeah.

And Malfoy…otherwise known as Lucius. For no apparent reason. And Chelle…also for no apparent reason.