Authoresses' Notes Again: We have returned!

This was made when we were going crazy ! Please take this into consideration when you read !

What she said. XD This is an EXTREMELY random chapter. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Chapter Three: 'Fashions…'

Voldemort huddled inside his cauldron, frowning to himself.

"Why is it taking so damn long!" he screamed, tearing out his non-existent hair. "Harry should have gone delirious by now! Oh, where did I go wrong?" he lamented sadly.

Just then, a real-estate agent appeared, lowering himself down the well in a little wooden basket.

"Excuse me, can I use your phone?" he asked, "I need to make a collect call to my grandmother. I think she might be dying outside in the wood."

"What the hell?" said Voldemort in shock, "I don't have a phone! I live in a well! What the f!ck do you think I am! A complete retard?"

As Voldemort continued to hurl silly insults at the dude, a piercing cat noise suddenly echoed down the well.

"Mr Fuzzums! You've come back!" called the voice joyfully, "Why are you up on that wall? Do you want to end up like your mother? I only just finished eating her, you know!"

Voldemort suddenly realised a gerbil was crawling out of his pants.

He screamed.

XxxxXxxxX

Later that night he sat down by the imaginary fire in his bucket, found the gerbil, and ate it.

"What? NO CHICKEN?"

XxxxXxxxX

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Harry Potter opened his eyes. He saw… a chicken. No wait, it was Hermione.

"Dude, where's my gerbil?" yelled Harry, waving his arms around and doing that cool thing rappers do.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Harry, are you feeling alright? You do realise you fell asleep still wearing your glasses, don't you?"

Harry shook his head in confusion. "Why Hermione, you look absolutely horrible today!" he exclaimed.

"Harry! Viktor said that it is most fashionable in Bulgaria to wear a toilet upon your head! I'm in fashion!" protested Hermione.

"But that's not a toilet!" said Harry, "That's Professor Snape!"

Hermione gasped, realising he was correct. It was, in fact, Snape atop her head.

Harry chuckled. "You are ugly, Hermione! Ugly as a camel's butt!"

"I am not!" cried Hermione, "Viktor Krum picked me!"

"But that's because you drugged him," said Harry matter-of-factly.

"But Harry! He was going for Malfoy!" Hermione yelled.

Snape finally spoke up.

"Mmm, Malfoy…"

XxxxXxxxX

It was late afternoon on a Friday morning, and the Gryffindors had Potions with the Slytherins. As usual, Professor Snape was late, and Harry and Malfoy were facing off in a staring competition out in the corridor. The tension was high.

Harry's eye was beginning to twitch.

Just as Harry was almost twitched out, the locked classroom door burst open in a wave of sparkly lights. Professor Snape loomed out of the darkness, accompanied by a fresh cloud of smoke.

To his disappointment, he received no applause. Probably because of his outfit: he wore a floral pink gypsy skirt and a tight white tank top with the word "BITCH" written across it in bold pink lettering.

The class gaped. Harry's eyes widened and his heart stopped.

"Oh my god, he is like, so a cross dresser!" thought Hermione randomly.

"Oh dear, forgot to change out of my ballet gear…" muttered Snape suspiciously, and rushed back through the open doorway. Half a second later he Apparated back in his normal attire: a plain black set of wizard's work robes, and a pretty pink feathered pirate hat.

Straightening his hat, Snape scrutinised his class. "Well what are you all doing waiting out here?" he demanded, "Come on, come on, in you go, all you time-wasting bastards…"

So the class filed into the still-smoke-filled classroom for another fun-filled lesson with the deranged pirate.


Yay for us. I love that chapter.

I'm not on drugs…

lol, I think I am. XD Oh and the bit with Voldemort was NOT, in fact, Harry's dream. It really happened!

Weird, huh?

Hell yeah. Please review! We'll update, sometime!

Thanx!

- Gord and DP-lover -