Harry Potter as written by Skippy of "Skippy's List" fame
by Technomad
A poteen distillery is not an acceptable out-of-class extra-credit activity for Potions class.
Even if I make sure to share.
If caught distilling poteen, I must not allow the teachers to confiscate the stuff. The staff here is nutty enough without hangovers.
The Slytherin Seeker's name is "Draco Malfoy," not "Joffrey Baratheon," no matter how strong the resemblance is.
In reference to the above, I am to address his parents as "Madame and Mister Malfoy," not as "Queen Cersei and Ser Jaime." They may be purebloods, but they aren't quite that fond of inbreeding.
Cornelius Fudge's title is "Minister of Magic" or "Mr. Minister," if I'm addressing him directly. He is not to be addressed as: "Mein Fuhrer," "Il Duce," "Conducator," "General Secretary of the Communist Party," "Caudillo," "Great Helmsman," "Dear Leader," "Ascended Master," "Big Brother," "Fearless Leader," or "Illuminatus." (He really liked "Ascended Master," but the rest of the Ministry thought he was putting on too many airs.)
The proper way to greet Professor Umbridge is "Good morning, Professor Umbridge," not for my whole class to spring to attention, throw our right arms out in the Fascist salute, and give her three hearty "Sieg Heils."
I am not allowed to join, or recruit for, the Communist Party.
The same, as above, for the Hells Angels, the Bavarian Illuminati, the Esoteric Order of Dagon, the Church of Starry Wisdom and the "Riverdance" troupe.
I am not to call the Death Eaters "a bunch of Klan wanna-bes." This makes Lord Voldemort cry.
I am not to call Lord Voldemort a cheap imitation of Max Schreck in Nosferatu.
My "Peter Lorre" laugh makes most of my classmates and teachers very nervous, and I am to stop it at once.
My school is not "Ravenclaw House, and those other, lesser Houses we graciously allow to continue existing to burnish our glory all the brighter by comparison."
Not allowed to turn in my homework in obscure languages just to show off. (Honestly, how was I to know that Snape's the only person on staff who can translate Gothic, Coptic and Volapuk?)
Taking advantage of people with no common sense is mean, so I am not allowed to sell "sub-aquatic investment acreage in sun-kissed Southern Florida" any more.
Pursuant to the above, I am to return the money to Professor Trelawney, Luna Lovegood, Parvati Patel, and Lavender Brown, and apologize.
Even though we are beyond the reach of Muggle law here, I am not allowed to construct weapons of mass destruction.
The same goes, as above, for starting organized-crime syndicates.
And counterfeiting Muggle money. (The British Government hates the competition.)
Our school motto is "Draco dormiens nunquam tittilandus," not "Si Caesar viveret, ad remum dareris."
Zatanna is not going to be our next Defense professor. (Sorry, guys!)
Same goes for Stephen Strange Master of the Mystic Arts, Mandrake, and Saruman. (Sorry, girls!)
There is no such thing as a "Page Three witch" and I am to stop inducing my female classmates to allow me to photograph them undressed "to send it in for consideration."
By the same token, the Quibbler does not have a "Playwitch of the Month."
When the Goblet of Fire is about to announce the chosen candidates for the Triwizard Tournament, I am not allowed to say "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"
Even though we sound wonderful and can sing it in four-part harmony, I am not to induce my fellow Ravenclaws to sing "Send In the Clowns" to welcome our new first-year students.
By the same token, leaving a set of drums and a copy of This Is Spinal Tap as gifts for our new Defense professor is in very poor taste.
Although there is some resemblance, our Potions Master wants it made absolutely clear that he is not Johnny Cash…and that one more request for a rendition of "Folsom Prison Blues," "I Walk the Line," or especially "The Man In Black" will get the requester a month's detention cleaning cauldrons with his or her tongue.
Professor Snape also wants it made absolutely clear that he is not the Mad Monk of Russia, despite the clear resemblance, and that if he hears one note of "Ra Ra Rasputin (Lover of the Russian Queen)," the singer(s) will be turned into potions ingredients.
While I'm on the subject, our Potions Master does not appreciate being serenaded…even with "Love Potion Number Nine." He wants it made clear that his love potions work properly.
No matter how cute she is when she's drunk, we do not need to have Luna Lovegood up on the dinner table, dancing and singing "The Hedgehog Shall Never Be Buggered At All."
Neither Professor Dumbledore nor Hagrid are "the missing Freak Brother, the one who left before they became famous."
Cornelius Fudge does not like being called "Lucius Malfoy's sock puppet." Even if it's true.
The greenhouses are for the growing of magical plants and fungi, not for my sinsemilla production.
If caught with sinsemilla, I am not to whine "Professor Dumbledore bogarted it all, the fink!"
I am not allowed to induce house elves to talk like Gollum, no matter how funny it is to hear them hissing: "Ach, sss, gollum! Nasssty Death Eaterses, we hatess them, hatess them, doessn't we, my preciousss?"
I am not allowed to speak Nadsat any more, ever since some blabbermouth Muggleborn clued our teachers in about A Clockwork Orange.
I am not allowed to try to post Draco Malfoy to Tierra Del Fuego or Australia labeled as "a laboratory primate."
My copy of Luttwak's Coup d'Etat Manual is to stay at home. The last time it was here, the Slytherins pestered me till I let them borrow it, and I had to appeal to Dumbledore directly to get it back.
When exposing pureblood classmates to Muggle entertainment, I am not to start them out with the uncut versions of I Claudius or any HBO series.
This is Hogwarts Castle, not Winterfell, no matter how many times I repaint the sign over the front door.
Coloring a hand grenade white and throwing it to Bella Lestrange when she's after a prophecy is not fighting fair. Even though it's funny.
Professor McGonagall is not old enough to have been involved in the Jacobite rebellions, or to have borne Bonnie Prince Charlie's love child, and I am to quit telling wild stories. (Besides, mentioning the Jacobites around her just makes her cry.)
Creating the "Darwin Mark" in imitation of the Dark Mark, and firing it into the air when my schoolmates or teachers do something I consider particularly stupid is in very bad taste, even though the teachers laughed themselves sick when I explained what it was.
Sirius Black is not going to star in a remake of Midnight Express. (Not enough hot chicks for his taste. He has expressed interest in starring in a remake of Showgirls, and I am in negotiation for the rights.)
My female schoolmates are sweet, innocent, pure, demure, wholesome and utterly uninterested in whatever carnal excesses I have planned. (By order of Professor Dumbledore, on pain of something he calls the "Eunuch Curse.")
Luna Lovegood does not have the Innsmouth Look, and I am to quit scaring the firsties by saying that she does. Even though she did think it was wonderful fun to let them hear her chanting hideous chants calling the Giant Squid out of the lake to devour Professor Umbridge. (Hagrid stopped her. He saw a pattern of ripples out on the lake that even he did not like.)
Professor Umbridge also does not have the Innsmouth Look. (By order of the Esoteric Order of Dagon.)
Potions class is not a good place to demonstrate that I know how to make LSD-25.
Or TNT, C-4 or ammonium tri-iodide. (That last one nearly gave Snape a heart attack when I demonstrated just what it would do.)
The Theosophical Mahatmas are not watching us every second.
Draco Malfoy's companions are "Crabbe and Goyle," not "The Stones that Speak."
Harry Potter's two companions are "Granger and Weasley," not "his filthy assistants."
I am not allowed to borrow the Thestrals, even if it is dead easy.
If I have borrowed the Thestrals, I am not allowed to buzz Hogsmeade.
If I am buzzing Hogsmeade, I am not allowed to play "The Ride of the Valkyries."
Dead Death Eaters do not "smell like victory." Even in the morning.
When I am asked about the most passionate love affair I've ever seen, I am not to answer "That would be the one between Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy."
Our school medical person is "Madame Pomfrey," not "Major Houlihan," and especially not "Hot Lips." No matter how wild my mother told me she was when they were girls together, back when the world was young.
Not allowed to stitch together dead body parts and re-animate them into an unholy parody of life. Not even to win the school prize for the most original project.
The Head of Gryffindor is "Professor McGonagall," not "Granny Weatherwax." Even though it is an easy mistake to make. She does not appreciate cheap flattery.
Selling shares in perpetual-motion machines, Snorkack detectors, and other such confidence swindles is no longer allowed.
The Weasley Twins are a bad example, not people whose precedents I must surpass for the honor of Ravenclaw House.
We do not do rituals "sky-clad" here at Hogwarts. No matter how hot and alluring my female classmates would be in that state.
Harry Potter's best male friend is Ronald Weasley, not Ronald Macdonald. (Hey, it's an easy mistake to make!)
Not allowed to go skinny-dipping in the lake any more.
Not allowed to streak the Great Hall any more. No matter how loudly my female classmates whistled and cheered and called for encores.
Singing "We Are the Champions" at the end of exam time may be nothing but truth in advertising, but it upsets the residents of other, less intellectually-well-endowed Houses. (Snape gave us the filthiest look!)
Not allowed to pass out Jack Chick tracts, even the ones about witchcraft. They make my classmates go into giggling fits at inappropriate times.
Even if I am a Seer, I am not allowed to call myself "Karnak the Magnificent."
Also not allowed to pointedly predict Draco Malfoy's future as the cutest little love-bundle in Azkaban. It upset him terribly.
Not allowed to take a Gap Year. Even if I'm going to "go help the freedom fighters."
Making and selling voodoo dolls of people of whom I disapprove is a very bad idea. Lucrative, but bad.
I am to check with Professors Flitwick and Dumbledore before putting any more money-making schemes into operation, on pain of expulsion.
