Author's note! YAY!
Anyway, I don't really have anything to write. I just think author's notes are fun.
Wait, I just have to inform you of my new addiction… it's called Avatar: The Last Airbender… hehe… thanks Liz.
Also, I've gotta vent. FF. net is being extremely poopy - it deleted one of my friend's stories, and now she can't update for a while. That totally sucks. But I guess George (person) picked the right time to kidnap George (the gnome who helps laxgoalie write ff), because if she can't update anyway then it's pointless.
Don't ask.
Okay, fine. I'll start Chapter… Five now. Be that way. (Sticks tongue out and crosses arms)
"So just take this, Harry, and that extremely large zit should clear up in no time."
"It's not a zit! It's a bloody horn, you moron, and you put it there and you know it!"
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Fred had laughed, holding up a bottle.
"You mustn't be insecure about your face. Everyone gets zits sometimes," George had added, smiling broadly.
"'Cept us," Fred had added thoughtfully, stroking his chin.
"Of course," George had said.
With one last sound of disgust, Harry had grabbed the bottle and stomped off to his room, slamming the door.
Harry replayed this in his mind as he sat on his bed, slowly twirling the small blue bottle in his fingers. He had been sitting there for about fifteen minutes, debating silently whether or not he should drink the small amount of liquid inside. I myself, faced with that choice, would have thrown the bottle at one of the twin's heads and screamed, "You're out of your bloody mind!" But I wasn't there, and Harry is stupid, so he finally decided to risk it and downed it in one gulp.
Nothing happened.
Harry grimaced, not believing this. Those two idiots had sworn that it would work! And now, here he was with a bloody pink horn!
"For Merlin's sake!" he muttered under his breath. "I'll bloody murder them!" He jumped off his bed, ready to do just that, when all of a sudden his horn burst into powder. It fell into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Staggering around the room, he bellowed, "AUUGGH!" and ran into a wall. Harry fell down, and at once all of the powder disappeared. No longer blinded, he sort of stumbled to the mirror to make sure that the horn was gone.
What he saw made him extremely angry.
He ran over to the door, threw it open, and came face to face with ― who else but Gred and Forge.
Angrily pointing to his forehead, he raged, "You said it would get rid of the horn COMPLETELY!"
The twins exchanged glances. "Er, Harry, mate, there's… nothing there," said Fred honestly.
"YES THERE IS!" Harry bellowed. "THERE'S A SCAR THERE!"
"A scar," George said.
"On your forehead," Fred added uncertainly.
"Harry…" they said together.
Then Harry realized exactly how stupid he was being and remembered the whole thing about his parents being dead, and Voldemort killing them, and Harry surviving, and the green light and all. It seemed he had had a temporary memory lapse. Or maybe he was just stupid. There had always been a scar there.
Now seemed like a good time for a "Heh heh. Whoops." So Harry mumbled exactly that, while his face began to turn an interesting shade of neon red and burn uncontrollably. As soon as he was alone, Harry planned to do the whole 'deranged headless chicken' thing.
The twins looked at him, obviously amused by the whole thing. "It's all right, Harry," George said.
"Yes," Fred added, "we all have our deranged headless ― OW!" For George had just elbowed him in the side, trying to be stealthy and failing dismally. "Anyway," Fred said, rubbing his side, "we all have our ― eh ― blonde moments."
"Except for me," said George narcissistically.
Fred rolled his eyes.
About tow hours later, Mrs. Weasley was frantically scrabbling around, trying to find her lipstick.
"HAS ANYONE SEEN MY RED LIPSTICK?" she screeched from the bottom of the stairs. She and Arthur were going to be gone for most of the night, as they had an important banquet for the Ministry of Magic that evening. Merlin knows these things last forever, Mrs. Weasley thought to herself. And indeed they did. If this went as the banquets in previous years had gone, they wouldn't get home until well after two in the morning.
"FRED! GEORGE! DO YOU HAVE IT?" she asked, thinking that they might have taken it to use in one of their 'experiments.'
"MUM!" Fred shouted from his and George's room. "WHY IN MERLIN'S NAME WOULD WE HAVE YOUR LIPSTICK?"
"REALLY!" George added as he threw it into a steaming cauldron.
"I suppose you're right," Mrs. Weasley said. A few seconds later, the house shook with the vibrations of the small explosion that had stemmed, of course, from the twins' room.
"I think I know where your lipstick was," Ron said to his mum, looking in the direction of the twins' room.
"Yes, well, no time for that now, I have to look for my lipstick," Mrs. Weasley said, more than a little bit distracted.
Ron scowled. No one ever paid attention to him.
Then he got a brilliant idea. Well, sort of brilliant. Let's just settle for smarter than his ideas usually were. He could make this work to his advantage. But first, he had to make sure his mother really wasn't listening…
Turning to face his mother, he said, "Mum, I've decided that I'm going to eat all of the ice cream in the house." To himself he thought, I am soooooo bad. Except he was serious. Ron honestly thought that eating ice cream was roguish.
"That's nice, dear," Mrs. Weasley murmured, looking through her purse.
"A rabid gnome bit my leg off."
"Good for you, George."
"I'm Ron!"
"I completely agree," Mrs. Weasley said vaguely, still not paying attention. Obviously. Ron scowled.
"I'm going to tattoo 666 on my forehead."
"That's lovely, honey."
"I'm going to… um… do underage magic."
"Okay, dear."
"I'm going to join a punk band that's a ripoff of Iron Maiden, and we're going to drink, smoke and have lots of groupies."
"Of course."
Ron drew in a breath ― what he was about to say was, in fact, what he actually wanted. And now that he was fairly certain she wasn't paying attention at all, he felt that he may actually be able to get it. He said all in one breath, "I'm going to order some firewhiskey to be delivered to our house while you're out and you need to sign this because if you're not here they won't be allowed to give it to us 'cause we're all underage and if you sign it then we'll be allowed because we'll have parental permission." He shoved a piece of paper under her nose, hoping she'd still be distracted enough to sign it without realizing what it was.
Mrs. Weasley turned around. "YOU MOST CERTAINLY WILL NOT!" she yelled loudly. "I WILL NOT SIGN THAT! NOW GO HELP YOUR FATHER PUT ON HIS TIE! He'll strangle himself without help."
Ron went up the stairs, muttering about how no one liked him.
Meanwhile, Ginny was thinking excitedly about her unavoidable game of Truth or Dare. It was true that everyone else thought it would be incredibly juvenile, not to mention stupid, but all of them were willing to play out of the kindness of their hearts. Or maybe it was the intense fear of receiving one of Ginny's Bat Bogey Hexes. Either way, everyone had agreed.
Fifteen minutes later, Arthur and his wife threw some Floo powder onto the fire, stepped in, shouted "The Ministry of Magic!" and disappeared into the fiery vortex of emerald flames.
One minute later, Ginny did what some would call a giggle, but what more intelligent people would call a cackle.
Two minutes later, she set up a bunch of pillows for everyone to sit on, and brought out a medium-sized supply of butterbeer that she had been accumulating for a while.
Three minutes later, she went into the kitchen, procured a fair-sized metal pot, and hit it as hard as she could with a large wooden spoon.
"OI!" she screamed. "EVERYONE COME DOWN HERE! IT'S TIME! AND REMEMBER, YOU ALL PROMISED! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIIIIIIIIIIVE!"
One by one, all of the players grudgingly came down; first Ron, then Harry, then Fred and George. Charlie wasn't even in the country, as he was studying dragons in Albania, and Bill had left a while ago to spend the night at a friend's house.
Fred and George stumbled in last, as has already been said. Fred caught Harry's eye as he entered and winked, smiling as if he and Harry shared some great secret.
"So, Ginny," George said jauntily, "Fred and I just remembered that we have somewhere very ― uh ― very important to go. So we'll just be leaving."
Yes! Harry thought happily. Now they won't be able to dare me to do whatever they were going to dare me to do ―
But his very repetitive train of thought was interrupted by none other than a screeching Ginevra, as she yelled at her insolent twin brothers to sit down and shut up.
"Okay, Ginny, calm yourself," Fred said, looking slightly frightened.
"Thank you," she said innocently.
Looking around at the extremely apprehensive boys, she asked, "Now. Who'd like to go first?"
No one volunteered. So naturally, Ginny cackled maniacally and said, "Then Ron ― truth or dare?"
Reluctantly, "Truth."
"Okay. Ron, what's the worst prank those two idiots ―" she gestured to Fred and George, who got a who, me? look on their faces ― "have ever played on you?"
Ron drew his breath in sharply. Glancing at Ginny, he asked, "Must we talk about this?"
"Yes."
And so Ron told a lovely tale of how the twins had ― well, let's just say it involved a cantaloupe, a tampon, a penguin named Larry, about four thousand multicolored rubber bands, and a pair of tweezers. The listeners all grimaced many times during the tale. Well, except Fred and George, as they kept laughing like the two raving lunatics that they were at random points in the story.
Then Ron asked Harry. "Truth or dare, mate."
Sigh. "Truth, I suppose."
"Um… did you ever like Hermione?"
"No. She's my friend and all, but kind of anal retentive. She takes life too seriously."
"I agree."
Harry then asked Fred and George. When they picked dare, he said, "Um… go… er… well… I can't really think of anything…"
Ron shook his head in disbelief at Harry's extreme stupidity.
"I've got it!" Harry said suddenly.
"I highly doubt that," Ron muttered under his breath.
"I dare you…" Harry paused dramatically. They waited.
"Harry, spit it out, mate," Fred said impatiently. "We haven't got all night."
"And we're not doing anything that involves removing our clothes," George added.
"Or anything to do with knickers," Fred added.
Harry's jubilant grin slid off his face, and he said, "I've got to think of something new, then."
Fred's left eye twitched.
Then came what Harry had been dreading horribly. Fred said, "Harry, we'll go, and give you some time to think of another dare."
"Harry! Truth or dare?" George asked cheerfully, putting emphasis on the 'dare' to indicate that Harry was supposed to choose that.
Harry swallowed nervously, then said in a cracking voice, "Dare."
The twins exchanged a very evil look.
"Harry," said Fred, "we dare you to put this on ―"
George pulled something large and extremely fluffy from behind his back. "―and then go to a house ―"
"― which we'll Apparate you to ―"
"― and ask them if they'd like to go on a magical ride," George finished.
Harry gaped in disbelieving chagrin at the innuendo of the statement.
And the fluffy thing?
It was a tutu.
A pink tutu.
A pink sparkly tutu.
A pink sparkly tutu that was about eight feet across, and stuck straight out at the sides.
Oh Merlin.
It wouldn't even have been embarrassing if not for the 'magical ride' thing…
Oh Merlin.
Oh Merlin.
Oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin.
Oh Merlin.
Yes, I am aware that that was extremely tedious and completely pointless.
Fred and George grinned, waiting.
Harry swallowed, closed his eyes, and grabbed the tutu. Unfortunately for our young moron, his eyes were still closed when he tried to grab the tutu, and he completely missed and grabbed Ron's face instead.
It sounded like this:
Harry: gulp
Harry's hand against Ron's face: squash
Ron: AAAAAGH! AAT ID OHNG WID OO, OO OTTY NANNY-OY? LEGGO A MM FERSH!
(hand-smashing-face-impeding-proper-speech to English translation: AAAAAGH! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU SWOTTY NANCY-BOY? LET GO OF MY FACE!)
Harry: opens eyes Wha ― whoops! Sorry Ron… er… I… JUST GIVE ME THE BLOODY TUTU, YOU GITS!
Fred and George: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU'RE A MORON and so on
Interesting.
So approximately 4.2 seconds later, Harry grabbed the tutu and put it on, all the while attempting to give the twins the evil death stare. He then proclaimed matter-of-factly, "I hate you both," and waited for them to Apparate him somewhere. Which they did.
CRACK!
Harry opened his eyes slowly. He was leaning against a pine tree, and the night was dark and star-filled. The nearly-full moon was easily visible above the pines. There was a great abundance of trees (mostly conifers), and the single house he could see was in the midst of them.
The house, about twenty yards away, was small - a petite two-story, black, with light coming from only one window. From what Harry could tell, the light came from a fire, as the light was orange and flickering. A single silhouette could be seen moving around in the window.
Hey… Harry thought. Maybe if Fred and George skive on this, then I won't have to do this… I can just say I did, but not really do it… yeah, that's good. I'll say that the person was really surprised… He continued making up an elaborate story in his head.
Harry crept a little bit closer to the house with the intention of looking in the window. Why, he didn't know, but he was going to, and that was that. He stalked a bit closer… twelve yards away, now ten… eight, and…
CRACK!
"AAAH!" Harry yelled, then caught himself and jumped behind the nearest pine tree.
"Hey, Harry!" came a jovial voice from a short distance away. "Where have you got to?"
"We're ready for you to do the dare, Harry!" said the other (nearly identical) voice.
Harry groaned inwardly and slid down the tree, rubbing his temples. He was considering hiding, but that was kind of completely ruined when he got a splinter in his back and "YAAAAAAAH!" -ed in pain.
Fred's head poked around the tree, face stretched in a badly disguised ear-to-ear evil grin. "I do believe we've found our friend!" he said to George, whose head immediately poked around the other side of the tree. "Ah!" he said, smiling as if he had wanted nothing more than to find Harry.
"You didn't think we'd leave you to your own devices, did you?" Fred asked. "We're not thick, Harry, we know you wouldn't actually do the dare if we weren't here."
Harry swallowed, then tried to say defiantly (but naturally, did not succeed), "Wh ― what if ― what if I won't?"
George said, "Harry, if you don't, then I sincerely hope you like chipmunks and marmalade."
Fred snickered.
Harry turned white and swallowed again, not even wanting to know what the twins were going to do to him with chipmunks and marmalade. One thing he was fairly sure of, however, was that whatever it was, it would be irreversibly scarring, and probably even more embarrassing (or hazardous to his health, both physical and mental) than this dare. "Fine, I'll do it," he grumbled reluctantly.
He turned and walked towards the house. Taking a deep breath, he reached the front door. He hesitantly reached for the knocker, took another deep breath, and knocked twice. For a moment, he could hear nothing save the crackling of a fire. Then, seconds later, slight thudding footsteps came in the direction of the door. Harry could hear the person muttering to himself - "Stupid ― coming around at this time ― get rid of them ―"
Harry briefly thought about running away ― the phrase "RUN AWAAAAAY! RUN AWAAAAAY!" seemed to apply very well to this situation ― what if this person was a schizophrenic maniacal pedophile, or something? And ― another thought crossed his mind ― (wow! Two thoughts in less than two minutes! A record for Harry!) ― why had Fred and George chosen this house, of all houses? And now that he thought of it, where was he? Fred and George could have Apparated him to anywhere, and he wouldn't know. He had a very bad feeling about his, Harry did.
But unfortunately, the longest train of thought Harry had ever had was interrupted by the door opening. "What do you want?" came a cold voice. Harry, who was looking at his feet so as to avoid looking the person in the face, was so worn out from all that strenuous thinking that he didn't even realize that the voice was a familiar one. He asked dully, "Would you like to go on a magical ride?" and winced, expecting the door to be slammed in his face. But instead of a door, he was met with an incredulous, "Potter?"
Harry gasped. Looking up in bewilderment and oh-Merlin-oh-crap-I've-really-done-it-now-ness, he saw the disbelieving (and greasy) face of his least favorite Potions Master.
Snape.
Ok, guys, whaddya think? Just so you know, laxgoalie (read her stories!) helped
me think of an ending for this chapter. I wish I could say it was my
idea, but I can't. But anyway, revews are appreciated, as always,
and I'll update my other story soon. Sort of. Maybe. Not really. I'll
start writing it soon, though. I heart you! (whoever you are)
