CHAPTER NINE – TYPOZ IN TROUBLE

Disclaimer: In how many languages can I say I don't own Harry Potter? Okay, just one. Fuck. Oh well. Let's rock then, shall we?

Neville was staring at Ginny. Drool dribbled down his nub-like chin. No one had noticed he had stopped playing the drums yet. Ginny was leaning over the keyboard with her back to him. That short skirt was awfully…short. He could see—wondrous things. It was amazing. He dared not to blink: the beautiful sight before him could leave. Alas, she turned around. "Neville, are you playing?"

Harry came up to Neville and smacked him upside the head. Ron sympathetically handed him a towel for his drool. Neville blushed and wiped his ugly face. "Shall we get on with the rehearsal, then?" Harry demanded with his hands high on his hips, much like Forrest Gump or a pregnant woman. "Once again, from the top," Harry stomped his foot four times, counting into the mike they had conjured. "One, two, three, four!" He began haphazardly banging his head to the music as it started. He opened his mouth and slowly commenced to sing. "You think you know…about me. But you don't. No, you don't. You are a dumb ugly bitch…I want to hit you sometimes. Because you are STOOPID. You make me so mad. You don't know about me, no you don't, no you don't. So you can just go FUCK YOURSELF, 'cause I won't do that for you."

"STOP, stop, stop." Ginny stuck her hip out. "Who wrote these lyrics?"

Harry stuck his lip out. "Me…"

"Um, no offence, but they suck."

"I'd like to see you do better!"

"Well…maybe something more like this…um, guys can you start the song?" The music started. "And now—there's a you-shaped hole in my life. This music, this mood, it's all hypnotizing. This emptiness feeling far from flying…I'm dying. Feel that pain in your side? That's your knife; thought I'd give it back to you. You bitch, you bitch…you fucking betrayed me."

"No, I like mine better." Harry was the only one not standing in stunned silence.

"We're using yours, Ginny."

"But what about mine…"

"TOO BAD!" everyone yelled.

"Bloody hell," added Ron.

HAIRY POOTER AND THE TYPOZ WERE SPREADING IN FAME. IT HELPED THAT THE FAMOUS HARRY POTTER WAS FRONTING THE BAND; THIS WAS PROVED WHEN THE DAILY PROPHET WROTE AN ARTICLE CALLED "THE BOY WHO LIVED TO MAKE MUSIC". HERE IS THE INTERVIEW PORTION OF THE ARTICLE…

The world-famous Harry Potter is soon becoming famous for not only stopping Lord Voldemort, like, so many times (!) but also by his musical talent. His deep lyrics and catchy tunes have hypnotized the hearts of many a wizard or witch. Here is the Daily Prophet's EXCLUSIVE interview with the charming young man.

Daily Prophet: Is it a challenge starting a band with your sort of "I'm going to save the world" image?

Harry Potter: Actually, it was and it wasn't. My fame obviously helped the publicity of the band, because honestly who doesn't want to know what Harry Potter is doing? (HP laughs girlishly) But at the same time, it made it not easy.

DP: You are famous as well as sexy. What kind of a burden does this put on you and the band, if any? And if it doesn't, than what does?

HP: I realize my sexiness and embrace it. In fact, I bathe daily. Practically. Okay, hardly ever. I just use a lot of deodorant...when I can find it. (HP vacantly stares into space)

DP: I like your clothes. Who are you wearing?

HP: What is this, Cosmo? I'm currently in a breezy seaside ensemble by GAP.

DP: Well you pull it off nicely.

HP: Thank you.

DP: You're welcome.

HP: Um…so…is the interview over?

DP: Do you want it to be?

HP: You're hot.

DP: So are you.

HP: Let's make out.

DP: (DP smiles) Let's.

(DP and HP make out)

A couple hours later…

DP: Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter.

HP: Please. Call me Hairy.

The Typos were on tour. They were in Ron's brother Bill's neighborhood, so Harry and Ronald McStupid (I mean…eh…) went to see him.

I'm not going to say Bill was fat, but…

Yeah.

He was.

He was, like, 400 pounds. It was sad. And it grossed Harry out. They quickly were informed by Bill's house elf, Knobby, over tea that he had gained the weight out of depression. Fleur had dumped him on his sorry ass.

"But…why?" asked that skank Ginny.

Bill tearfully explained, "We had an argument. She thought I was all about sex, drugs and bank deposits. She wanted to settle down and have some kids, but I wasn't ready for that life, man." He took a hit from a smoking joint he held between his index and middle finger. "I wanted adventure and new things, but all Fleur wanted was a fucking golden retriever and a station wagon. She kept banging on about me only wanting her for her luscious body. Not true. She was a good cook too. GREAT in bed."

Everyone wished they could scrub their brains.

"Ginny. You look different. You lose weight?"

"I dyed my hair."

"No, that's not it. Did you…Uhhhh…lose weight?"

"Fuck you."

"What?" Bill's lower lip was shiny with spit. He bent forward and little and passed out all over the stale teacakes. Knobby came over and snapped his fingers. A bucket of cold water appeared. He abruptly dunked Bill's head in it and fanned him off. "Knobby…" Bill muttered, "Knobby…You're so good to me…come here and give us a kiss."

Everyone took a step back. Harry grabbed Ron's arm to check Ron's Little Mermaid watch. "Well, we have a concert in fourteen hours. We'd better go get ready."

"Yeah," agreed Dean.

"Yeah," agreed Neville.

"Yup," Ginny nodded. Okay, fine. "Yeah," agreed Ginny.

"'Bye, you losers! See you on the mother fucking flip side!" Bill's cheeks jiggled.

Neville had the humiliating job of sound check, where you test the microphones. "Check, one two. Mic one, all set." As he was doing this, He scanned the early crowd. He nearly fell off the stage in shock when he saw Bridget and Malfoy holding hands in the assembly. Aw, what the hell. He did fall of the stage.

"Neville! Are you okay?" Bridget's boobs were hanging above his forehead as he lay on his back.

"Doing better." Neville grinned.

"Good." Bridget helped him up, then went to stand by Malfoy. She immediately plunged her hand into his back pocket. Malfoy's, not Neville's. Ew.

The first song pretty much sucked but the people there didn't care. They were too busy marveling at the coolness of the band's wardrobe and how hot Harry supposedly was.

"Baby, I'll be right back," Malfoy yelled in Bridget's ear over the noise.

"What?" she yelled back. The ferret left without explaining. He somehow snuck backstage without any interference with the security guards, which where kung-fu trained midgets riding on the backs of tamed tigers. He made his way past the piles of empty donut boxes to the sound equipment. He noticed a switch that read "Harry's voice track, that's right, he lip-synchs folks. DO NOT TOUCH." He switched it to OFF.

Immediately Harry's singing stopped. Harry stood there as the band played on. "Mike." Harry called someone backstage. Some bald guy ran right past Draco, who still had his finger on the switch and went to Harry.

"Who could have done this?" Mike was shrieking hysterically.

Ginny, who was watching all this, stepped up to Harry Potter's microphone. "Um, I guess I'll finish this one for Harry," she said as a dozen teenage boys looked up her skirt, and began to sing. Ginny, not the perverted youngsters. And she was good. Really good. The crowd liked he more than Harry, as a matter of fact.

In desperation, Malfoy sprinted on stage. "EVERYONE!" He grabbed a mic. "Ginny Weasly is GAY! A regular HOMO!"

Ginny glared at Draco with considerable malice. "Funny you should say that, Malfoy, since you're the fag here. Yes, okay? I'm gay."

"Really?" asked Harry.

"Really?" came from behind the drum set in the background.

"Yes, really."

"Oh." Said everyone in the auditorium.

Malfoy was panicking. "Dean had plastic surgery! He had a nose job!"

"This nose—" Dean tapped the side of his nose with his index finger, "—is re—" the nose flew off and landed in some old witch's Pepsi. What an old lady was doing at a rock concert, I'll never know.

"Whoa, I'm right again." Draco said to no one in particular. "Ginny wants to have a threesome with me and Bridget!" he yelled hopefully.

"Uh, no." replied everyone in the auditorium.

Yep, Ginny is gay! I was so mad about (SPOILER ALERT) Ginnyand Harry liking each other in the sixth book (OK IT'S OVER) that I had to take matters into my own hands. Cho is an emo bitch, Hermione is strictly in Friendsville, and Ginny is gay. Facts, J.K., facts! Well, maybe not the Ginny being gay thing. That was pretty much my idea. But how else would she know so much about kissing girls that she would trash-talk Won-Won's technique? Admit the inevitable.