The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys
.:cracks up:. I just realized that on chapter seven, Microsoft Word changed the title to The Magical Tale of the Mischievous Milfoils! (WTF IS A MILFOIL!) Hahahahahahaha! No really. What IS a milfoil? Well, according do it's a plant. .:shrugs:. It sounds funny anyway. Go look at it, laugh at it, Microsoft Word is stupid. D
Disclaimer: Don't own this stuff. I wish I owned some milfoils. Dang. That would be pretty cool. But seriously, I'm not a thief. (NOT EVEN A MILFOIL THIEF.)
MEGHAN: WOO REVIEWS! Crookskanks…is… awesome.
Anne: You're my favorite sister evarrrrrr… wait… I mean… you're my only sister… Love you anyways!
Woooo reviews. Yaaaay reviews. More reviews are needed. KTHXBAII. (That was my inner evil scenester coming out in me. Sorry. It won't happen again.)
Chapter Eight: Girls and (Hair) Gel
D-Money, H-Dawg, and Ronye walked through the doors of Hogwarts Castle, through the entrance hall, and on to the GREAT HALL. (Yeah… all caps. It's that great.) All of the students watched them as they walked to their tables. With an extra little skip, Dumbledore ascended the stairs to the teachers' table. "It is now the hour to chomp through our divine banquet that was created just for us. Noooooow… go!" He commanded.
All of the students, being the perfect little piggies that they are, began to eat. Harry and Ron, however, just sat there and looked at their gold-plated plates. (Plated plates… hehehe.)
Harry looked from Seamus and Dean, quite engaged in conversation, to Ginny, who was halfway through her quiche, humming "If You Were Gay" from Avenue Q. Ron was gazing fondly at his bruised lemon, totally uninterested in the scantily clad Lavender clutching at his arm frantically.
Hermione was getting all sniffly as FredandGeorge simultaneously consoled her by letting her lean on them. Neville and Luna were, Harry saw, happily snogging away a few seats down.
After observing all of this, Harry felt slightly nauseous. He got up, and with a strange harrumphing noise, stomped off towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Lobbing himself down on a red-and-gold striped sofa, he began to sob.
"Why oh why does everyone run away from me…" he began, but was interrupted by Hermione, who stood giggling at his side.
"H-H-HARRY!" She exclaimed. "What's wr-(giggle)-ong?"
"OH, NOTHING," Harry said, in all capitals. "ONLY THE FACT THAT EVERYTHING I LOVE RUNS AWAY FROM ME."
"Well," Hermoine snickered, seeing that he was upset. She took this as her only chance of escape. "I've got to be---going---to---READ A BOOK! That's it," she said, running up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
And Harry promptly cried himself to sleep on the couch.
The next morning, Harry awoke to someone prodding him with a stick. He opened his eyes to see Ronye standing above him. This morning, Ron was dressed very oddly.
He was donned in purple, fur-trimmed robes and a matching wizards' hat with feathers in it, clutching a gold-plated cane. On the end of the cane, where there should be a handle, there was a lemon.
"Well, H-Dawg, you're in quite a pickle, bro," Ron stated. "But there, I can help you out."
"Y-y-y-(yawn)-ou can!" Harry exclaimed.
"Absolutely, yo," Ron smirked.
He promptly rapped Harry on the head with his cane, and said, "Where you at, bro!"
Then he strutted away.
Harry was left, confused, massaging the sore spot on his head.
"That Ron-Turned-Pimp opened my eyes to the horribly boring person that I really am!" Harry marveled. (Because that's what people do… they have revelations from random events… of course. Mhm. No doubt about it.) "I need to be more… dashing! Daring! Gay!" Harry sang. "Well… scratch that last one. But I do need to get up out of my rut and do something about my hair!"
He proceeded to skip up the stairs to the dormitories and apply hefty amounts of hair gel to his scraggly, outsized hair.
The end… Um… it wasn't the best, but I hope SOMEBODY likes it.
School starts in three days, so I won't be writing as much…
Once again, if anybody has any suggestions from the story, I'll be happy to use them and give you credit!
