CHAPTER THREE – A DUEL
Disclaimer: Yo sup I don't own J.K.'s boi Harry Potter. Yoy?
Harry James Vincent Stacy Robert Aaron Betsy Rose Edward Matthew Tucker Steven Joshua Garret Emmett Robin Emerson Roger Danger Freddy Henry Potter, who also thought Bridget's SBS Grade 7 was the cause of Hermione's sedated state, pointed a trembling finger inches away from the Slytherin's nose. The Slytherin shoved his finger away and said crossly, "I'm a Hufflepuff, you dope."
"Oh sorry," Harry Potter said and tried again, pointing this time at Bridget. "I challenge you…" He waited the appropriate amount of time to pass for drama, in which he scratched his bum unintelligibly. "…a DUEL!"
Frightening music suddenly swelled in the background, adding just the effect Harry Potter was hoping for.
"A d-d-d-d-d-d—" Ron stuttered. He was stuttering because Malfoy had somehow managed to shut his tongue in a book, sit on the closed book, and bounce up and down on it. "D-d-d-d-d—"
"JUST SPIT IT OUT!" Bridget shouted into his ear.
"D-d-duel?" He finished, flinching.
"YES." Harry Potter was big on dramatic value. "Midnight. DADA classroom. Be there or be a square."
"Um." Bridget looked sheepish. "It's 'be there or be square', not 'be a square'."
"WHATEVER!"
"Groovy. See you then." Bridget blew Ron a kiss and left.
"P-p-p-p-peace out b-b-b-baby." Ron tied to blow a kiss back, but couldn't, thanks to his limp tongue. He turned to his friend. "Y-y-y-you d-d-do Kn-n-n-n-know you're a-a-a-about to get y-y-your arse k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-kicked?"
"I know," Harry Potter squeaked.
"Let's go get some lunch." Hermione was conscious again.
Ron exclaimed, "You're conscious again!"
"Yeah, I'm starving," Harry Potter agreed, ignoring Ron.
The bell, which had never existed in the earlier books, rang, signaling the end of lunch.
"D'oh!" Harry Potter and his Gryffindor buddies cried.
"Damn bell…mothafucka never existed for the past five years…damn fanfic writers always trying to make Hogwarts more like high school…crazy bastards…" Harry Potter grumbled as he slammed the door to his locker, which had just appeared in a whirl of fanfiction accuracy abandonment.
Oliver Wood, who had mysteriously reappeared to be Quidditch Captain, stood in front of Harry Potter, blocking his way. The Boy of Many Names craned his neck to look at Wood, because of course, Oliver was 6' 7", hunky, Irish, and extremely good-looking. Hermione sighed dreamily. "You haven't been to Quidditch practice in a fortnight! What's your deal?" Wood demanded.
Harry Potter scratched his head, loosening dandruff which fell onto his shoulders like snow. "Ew," Ron said.
"Oh yeah. I meant to tell you; I'm quitting the team." Harry Potter brushed the dandruff off his right shoulder onto the head of an unsuspecting first year.
"What? Why?"
Harry Potter shrugged.
Hermione glanced at her watch. "We're late for History of Magic." She said, "So if you'll just excuse us…"
Ron looked at her. "I thought you had that dumbass class Ancient Runes…"
Hermione tossed her mass of tangled locks. "I quit."
Wood turned to Ron. "Do you want to join the team?"
"Actually…I was on the team lasts year…I was…um…Keeper."
"Oh." Wood promptly disappeared in a poof of logic.
They shook their heads and headed towards their next class: History o' Magic!
Professor Binns awaited them, sitting behind his desk as usual, but for some unexplained reason was still droning on and on… The "trio" exchanged looks and sat down. "And that," concluded Professor Binns, "was how the goblin Hattie the Horribly Horny discovered that there was not pot of gold waiting at the end of the rainbow."
"Sounded like a good lesson," Ron sarcastically said, "Let's sit with my friends Dan and Emma, and we'll all have tea and kippers with lots of cream!" he gestured towards a couple of empty desks.
"Ha, ha. Emma. What a dumb name. Haw ha, ha." Hermione laughed.
"That sounds lovely!" pronounced Harry Potter. "Just DIVINE."
Ron punched the air. "Way to go man!" He said flatly. "Gay pride!"
"I AM NOT GAY! Besides, you started it…"
Ron shook a finger at Harry Potter. "That's not very prideful."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the ceiling with her arms crossed, smiling in spite of herself. The ceiling spat in her eye. "Wotevva!" Hermione flipped off the ceiling.
Harry Potter told Hermione bitterly, "I know it's hard but would you please stop being so damn STUPID?" He was angry at Ron for calling him gay. They must never suspect… he thought to himself.
With all this going on, they were the only ones who didn't notice a group of Slytherin seventh years had entered the classroom, Bridget with them. She plopped down on a nearby chair. She patted the seat next to her invitingly. Unknowingly, the had wiped off the virus that, when combined with the perspiration accumulating between dear Ronald's butt cheeks, would spread and kill half the staff and students in the school. (A/N: Douglas Adams, you are DA BOMB!)
Nobody noticed.
"Hello? HELLO?"
"Bridget." Ron scratched his head awkwardly. "Hi. Um…what are you doing here?"
"Weeeeeeeell…I mostly came to say menacing things to your friend Elton over here," she stabbed a finger at Harry Potter, who was rolled in a small ball and rocking back and forth, whimpering to himself that he was too young to die. "but I also came to do this." She stood, seized Ron by the sides of his head and pulled his face to hers, planting her lips on his own unwary mouth, moving her mouth around and slipping a little tongue in…
"DON'T WE HAVE CLASS?" asked Hermione loudly.
Bridget released Ron, who fell limply onto the floor. She took three steps toward Hermione, looking like she was about to throw a punch. Hermione took a step backwards. Bridget giggled evilly.
Dobby appeared with a crack. "Mister Harry Potter sir, let me kiss your sacred bum so that I may be BLESSED with your holy butt-scent."
Bridget raised her eyebrows. "That's hot,"
Professor Binns coughed. The Slytherins Bridget has arrived with jumped at sat in the seats surrounding the ones near her and Ron. Bridget sat too. Ron shrugged, and then sat. Harry Potter and Hermione seated themselves in seats in the row in front Bridget and Ron.
Bridget leaned forward and whispered in Harry Potter's ear. "Tonight, I'm going to smash you flat. Into a pancake. Pancake Potter, that's what they'll call you. Beaten by a girl. But if you think that's all I'm going to do to you, you're dead wrong, mate. I'll put you in the middle of a Muggle parkway and run you over a thousand times in a shiny chrome SUV."
"Does it have to be chrome? Chrome makes my head hurt."
"Okay then, a red SUV. And after I peel what's left of you off the pavement, I'll take safety scissors and cut you into interesting shapes. I'll hang you on my Christmas tree and the leftovers I'll feed to your grubby owl…" Just as she was going into what she was going to do with Hedwig's poo, Professor Binns took a long, deep breath and began his lecture on the formation of the Union of Magical Peoples Inquiring Rule Equality, or U. M. P. I. R. E.
Bridget cleared her throat and raised her hand. "Please," she said in her best sixth-year voice, "I need to use the bathroom." She pinched Ron in the thigh and raised her eyebrows at him.
"Uh, me too." Ron couldn't help from grinning.
"Miss Yoyle? Mr. Wheezy? Why of course."
The stood there.
"Go!"
"Um, could we have passes?"
About five minutes later, Professor McGonagall passed a couple making out right outside the History of Magic classroom. "Do you two have—" They both simultaneously lifted the notes Binns had written them without even pausing from their tongue wrestling. McGonagall scowled and walked off.
That night, at midnight…At twelve o'clock in the near-empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Harry Potter sweated a little. I must smell horrid, he thought miserably. Mrs. Norris marched past with a rose in her mouth, followed by a frisky-looking Crookskanks. He gazed at the two felines as they did the tango with surprising skill and ease. He looked away as they began to make little baby kitties.
Bridget stood in the doorway of the Defense of the Dark Arts classroom, casting an ominous shadow on the desktops. The numbskull was too busy watching two cats tango. You'd think he'd never seen a couple of felines dance with each other. Ah, he was looking away from them now. He'd seen her. She smirked.
Bridget was smirking and casting an ominous shadow over the desks. Half her face was concealed in shadow. "I'm going to count to three."
"No way! That gives you an advantage."
"Well, if I can't, you can't."
"Someone has to."
"Not you."
"Not you, either."
Crookskanks said in annoyance, "One, two, three! GO!"
Harry Potter looked at Crookskanks. "Shouldn't you be on top? You're a boy. Mrs. Norris goes on the bottom."
Crookskanks rolled her eyes. "Humans," and went back to…well.
Bridget yelled, "Defeatus Maximus!"
Harry Potter instantly defeated.
Next chapter is the best one yet, in my opinion. Contains cottage cheese.