((A.N. We are not trying to make fun of suicidal people. We merely noticed that it was a common theme in soap operas. Thank you, everyone who reviewed.))
"Did you notice that I never cough on live television?" Dr. Phil asked Snape in a conversational tone.
Snape gave him a blank stare.
He had been slightly surprised, to say the least, when Dr. Phil booked an appointment for his counseling service. However, he was in no position to turn Dr. Phil down.
"I mean, everyone coughs on live television," Dr. Phil said persistently.
"I didn't notice," said Snape stonily. That's because I don't watch Dr. Phil, he thought savagely. I wouldn't watch that show if it was the last thing on the air.
Dr. Phil burst into tears.
"I said it out loud again, didn't I?" Snape asked pungently.
Phil blew his overly large nose on Snape's newly graded test papers. It was alright, Snape supposed. That one was only Potter's.
"I'm . . . a cough syrup addict!" Dr. Phil said, afterwards having a complete emotional breakdown.
Snape grimaced.
"Listen, Doctor . . . I mean, Phil . . . you are only metaphorically addicted to cough syrup. Do you understand what I am talking about?"
Phil stopped crying for a moment. "I . . . well . . . I think so," he said between sniffles. "Do you mean that . . .?"
"Time's up!" Snape said suddenly, checking his wristwatch. "We will discuss this matter more on Monday, when your next appointment is scheduled. How's that sound?"
"But I never scheduled an–"
"Off you go," Snape said darkly, flinging open the door with his wand. He smirked as Dr. Phil hastily left.
"Next on my list is . . . Weasely? Weasely again?" Snape asked in biting tone.
The door crept open slowly, and the candles blew out. An ominous presence emanated from the doorway, and Ginny Weasely stepped inside.
"The other one," she said faintly.
He had never liked the Weaselys.
"What did you come in for, Weasely?" Snape asked her as he tapped his quill on the table. The veil over her head was making him nervous.
"You know of what it is I speak. One by one, it has consumed us all," Ginny hissed in an malevolent voice.
"Hollywood affairs? The fast food industry? Insanity? The latter seems to run in your family, after all."
It was true, thought Snape. One by one, he began ticking off names in his head. There's Ron, of course, Snape thought. Ron sat outside his window, sharpening a knife, laughing quietly to himself and muttering about 'revenge' and 'Potter.' Then there's Fred and George . . . never trust identical twins, I say. Could be muffins. Bill looked pretty innocent, but in the end he turned out be an international jewel thief for Gringotts. That's why he dug up those mummy tombs in Egypt. Necromaniac. Charlie ran off to get himself scorched to death by dragons! Pyromaniac. And then there's Percy . . .
"We don't really know what's wrong with him, and that's the scary part," Ginny finished for him. Snape looked dismayed.
"You heard me?"
"You were talking out loud, Professor."
"Disregarding that string of thought, Weasely . . . tell me again why you're here."
"You see, Professor, it's the other one."
"The other one?"
"She comes to me at night and talks to me. She never sleeps," Ginny whispered fearfully.
"Tell me more about this . . . other one," Snape intoned wearily.
"Sometimes I feel happy, Professor Snape, and sometimes I feel angry. It's like there's two people inside my head. One is sweet and innocent Ginny, and the other IS REALLY PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW. And . . well . . . the mean and evil Ginny takes control at the most inconvenient times. It's a bother, really. I'm terribly sorry to take up your time. NOW GET ME A CURE YOU SISSY."
"Yes, indeed, indeed . . ." Snape muttered to himself, "You are harboring a strong case of multiple personality disorder . . . I have just the thing for you, Weasely."
He pulled out a pair of velvet handcuffs.
"Oops. Not those," he said quietly, shoving the handcuffs back into his cloak. He rummaged around a bit more, and an unlabeled videotape fell out of the cloak. Wait. It was labeled. It was called 'Naked Fishing.' It was a home video. Snape covered it quickly with his foot.
"This!" he said at last, pulling out a potion. "If you take this potion, all of your problems will be solved, young Weasely. Well, time's up, see you later. And don't mention that, uh . . . video tape."
"Sure thing," Ginny said, hurrying out.
Draco woke up.
"I'm passionately in love with Hermione," he realized suddenly.
It was only then that he noticed half the Gryffindor student body was clustered around him.
Shit, was his one and only thought.
"I was delirious. I had a fever," he said flatly. He checked his pockets with an ominous feeling.
"Where are my ecstacy pills?" Draco asked, a note of panic in his voice.
Neville, looking guilty, handed him the bottle. It was half empty.
He was having a crisis. It was not enough ecstacy. He downed the pills in one gulp.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked forcefully.
"She went that way," Lavender said lightly, pointing to the Quidditch Pitch.
"I know that!" Draco roared angrily. "I don't need help from a Mudblood! I didn't ask for help from a Gryffindor! None of you understand my pain!" he cried dramatically, and ran in the direction Lavender had pointed.
Hermione looked up into the glittering night sky (no one knew when it had become night), and a single tear streaked down her otherwise completely flawless face.
Why has it come to this? Hermione thought despairingly. Harry doesn't love me, no one loves me . . . I might as well take my own life.
From the depths of a plot hole came a gleaming dagger, its malicious beauty quite like that of Draco's. It had a glimmering black luster, and the starlight gave it a sinisterly dark aura.
She held it to her broken heart, preparing to plunge the dagger into her chest.
"You can't do it, can you?" came a voice from behind her.
"No."
"I wouldn't be able to do it either," Draco answered softly. "I never had the courage."
"It's not that, Draco," Hermione replied. "The knife isn't sharp enough."
She threw the dagger back into the plot hole, which closed up quickly.
"How did you know I was here, Draco?" she asked, changing the subject.
"My heart told me so." Draco shoved a few Prozac pills into his mouth while she wasn't looking.
Hermione refused to admit to herself that this was complete bullshit.
"Is there something you need to tell me, Draco?"
"God damn you, Granger! 90 of putts short of the hole don't go in. I hate you, I despise you, I absolutely loathe you! But that's not all! You make me sick, you make me ill, you are the bane of my existence. Oil costs are steadily rising! We were never meant to be together . . . I am salt and you are pepper, I am black and you are white, I am good and you are evil, I am dark and you are light, I am rubber and you are glue, I am morning, you are night, I am water and you are oil, you are wrong and I am right! We were never meant to be. The capital of North Korea is Pyongyang and no one knows how to pronounce that! The Gods have made our relationship highly improbable . . . but not impossible. I hate you but GODDAMN IT I LOVE YOU!"
The entire Hogwarts population had filed into the bleachers, and now they burst into wild applause.
"You're right, Draco," Hermione said softly, as if she had come to a revelation.
"Really?"
"Oilcosts are steadily rising," she said simply.
"You suck, Granger."
Draco swallowed a small vile of unlabeled liquid before stomping off moodily, and Hermione wondered what she had done wrong.
"We have but one chance, Wormtail," Lucius whispered furtively, "to lock Harry Potter in this cage."
"But, Lucius, why are we trying to lock him in this cage again?"
Lucius gave him an icy stare. Then, with a condescending air, he muttered, "Never mind that, Wormtail. Never mind that at all."
The cage was stationed in a conspicuous location, to be truthful. It was right in front of the Hogwarts lake. If Lucius looked closely, he could see the sleek head of the giant squid gliding through the water.
"First things first," Lucius said boldly. "Our camouflage."
He commenced in pulling out a small jar of black war paint. He unscrewed the cap with a maniacal glint in his eye and dipped his finger inside. Carefully, he drew two thin lines below his eyes. He also put some of the goo on Wormtail.
"Now . . . the cage!" Lucius said, and Wormtail could tell he was growing overly excited about The Plan.
Lucius strode pompously over to the cage, and beckoned for Wormtail to follow. Lucius failed to noticed how indiscreet the cage actually was. It was at least twelve feet tall, and had an enormous open metal door.
"First . . ." Lucius whispered excitedly, "we throw this giant and unappetizing slab of meat into the cage!"
He took out a dripping, nauseating piece of beef and hurled it into the far back of the cage. "Perfect," he said softly.
"Okay, Wormtail. Pretend I am Harry Potter. I see the meat. I want the meat. I walk into the cage . . ."
Lucius meandered into the cage, looking smug with his plan. Wormtail frowned worriedly.
"Then!" he exclaimed vigorously, pulling out the key. "We SLAM the door shut!"
He dramatically slammed the door, enclosing himself within the metal bars.
"Lucius . . ." Wormtail started apprehensively.
"Then we LOCK THE DOOR!" he cried, completely losing control. He had lost all sense of reality.
"And finally we throw the key . . . INTO THE LAKE!" he said, casting the silver key into the middle of the lake. It hit the surface with a thump and sank.
He started laughing hysterically at the complete and total genius of his plan.
Ten minutes later, when he finally stopped laughing, he tried the door to the cage and found that it was locked.
He rattled the bars.
He rattled harder.
This was A Very Bad Thing Indeed.
"Wormtail, you idiot! Look what you've done!" Lucius roared, overcome with rage. "You are an unimaginable imbecile and an inconceivable half-wit! You worthless piece of scum, you rat-faced numbskull, you don't deserve to walk on the cursed soil of this inadequate excuse for an educational institution . . ."
Lucius trailed off, and his eyes widened as he stared out at the lake.
"It's Potter, Wormtail! Out there in the lake! Rouse him, make after him, poison his delight, proclaim him in the street, incense his kinsmen . . . PLAGUE HIM WITH FLIES!"
Wormtail stared at Lucius. He was quoting Shakespeare . . . he had completely gone over the deep end. "What?" Wormtail asked wearily.
"It means go get the key, you idiot!" Lucius said, exasperated, straining through the bars of the cage to gaze at Harry, who was swimming obliviously in the lake.
Wormtail took a valiant plunge into the icy depths of the lake, and barely missed the fifty foot rocks that had appeared out of a plot hole for suspense. He sputtered, shivering pathetically in the lake and gazing below the surface. He searched desperately for any sign of the blasted key.
At last, after what seemed like an eternity, he saw a glint of silver reflecting off of the rocks.
"Gotcha," he whispered with a smile, and dove under the water.
He had been minding his own business really. Well, minding his own business and trying to brutally murder Harry Potter.
Ron would run Harry over with the giant squid. It was a perfect plan. Harry swam nonchalantly in the water, unaware that he was about to meet his demise.
"Kill, obliterate, defeat, decimate, assassinate, destroy, incinerate, eliminate, desecrate, extinguish, exterminate, annihilate!"
He was slightly obsessed with killing Harry Potter.
He kicked the giant squid. "Faster, faster, I say! Run him over!" Ron roared, laughing berserkly.
He was closing in on his target . . . ten feet away . . . five feet away . . .
"I've got it!" came a meek and squeaky voice. A shape suddenly emerged from within the black depths of the all consuming lake. It was hideous, it was a monster, it was . . . Pettigrew?
Wormtail's eyes widened as the giant squid rammed into him and skidded hopelessly off course, completely missing Harry.
"It's not possible," Ron muttered as he watched a silver object fly out of Wormtail's hand.
Lucius watched as the giant squid rammed into Wormtail and missed Potter completely. In slow motion he watched the key sail smoothly out of Wormtial's hand and toward the cage, toward the cage . . .
It hit a bar and bounced uselessly five feet away.
Lucius stared.
"COCKROACH WHISKERS!" he roared, unappreciative of the irony in the situation. He slammed his fist against the door in a fit of blind rage.
The cage door creaked open.
He began to appreciate the irony in the situation.
Lucius had One Last Plan. He picked up the piece of revolting beef and chucked it in the lake.
The giant squid went after it. His plan was working.
"NOO!" Ron cried in disbelief, as the squid turned away from Harry Potter. It raced after a hunk of obscene beef. Where had that come from?
"No, you fool! Go after Potter! Potter, I say!"
Harry had at this point reached the shore of the lake and was chatting with one of the local merpeople.
"Ron, he's such a clown," Harry said with an affectionate chuckle. "Riding on the giant squid like that, pretending to try to run me over . . . completely sabotaging every possible chance at assassination that Lucius and Wormtail have attempted . . I mean, what would I do without the flea bitten plebeian?"
Ron heard this loud and clear.
Wormtail had straggled back to shore.
"Lucius . . ." he gasped despairingly, "our plan is ruined!"
"Nyo," Lucius said slowly, with a malicious smirk. "That piece of beef is really . . . A TIME BOMB!"
They simultaneously pulled out blinking detonators and grinned psychotically. The squid had almost reached the piece of meat.
"On my mark, Wormtail! Three . . . two . . . one . . .OBLITERATE!"
There was a large explosion.
The giant squid and Ron skyrocketed into the air, and Ron was nowhere in sight when the giant squid landed. It was unharmed.
"Weasely's out of the way!" Lucius roared happily.
Harry walked back to the castle completely unscathed.
((A.N. So . . .? We have a question for you reviewers at home... which subplot would you like to see more of? Maniacal Lucius? Cocky Harry? Insanely jealous Ron? Cliche Hermione? Creepy horror movie Ginny? Psychiatrist Snape? And there's always Draco...
So tell us! Which one is your favorite?))
