ZA: Hello, Minions! I know you're all rather annoyed at me for taking so long between chapters, but…school. And look! I'm going to make Isshin do the disclaimer. I've never done that before, but he sort of is a tertiary character in the Bleach series.

Isshin: Oh, Masaki! Our darling Haru is growing up! What do I do? What do I do?

ZA: Quit shrine-sobbing and tell everyone I don't own you or your darling son.

Isshin: Zsugami Alba does not own any of my children! At all! Not even the particularly moody one!

Ichigo: The particularly moody one? Is that all I am to you?

ZA: Please stick to the script.

Isshin: Very well. Zsugami Alba owns neither Bleach nor Harry Potter.

"English"

"Japanese"

'Thoughts'

Parseltongue

Chapter 22: Polyjuice and Poetry

"Well, at least people aren't going on about you being the Heir of Slytherin anymore," Draco said.

"I know," Haru sighed. "That was fun."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "You've had your fifteen minutes of fame. Now it's time to move on."

"I suppose you're right," said Haru with another dramatic sigh.

Hermione rolled her eyes again and then addressed their entire group. "Well, now that the polyjuice potion's done, we need to figure out when we're going to infiltrate the Slytherin common room. Draco, who will Harry and Ron be impersonating?"

Draco's mouth twisted into an evil grin. "Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. I already have their toenail clippings." He presented the group with two large jars that rattled as he shook them like maracas. "They ran afoul of a toenail growing hex from an unidentified assailant last night. Fresh ingredients are best, after all."

Ron looked as though he might be sick. Hermione attempted to steer him toward Myrtle's stall and away from the cauldron of polyjuice potion, but he held up a hand and said, "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute."

Draco peered closely at one of the jars, looking pensive. "I think Goyle may be suffering from athlete's foot."

"I've got dibs on Crabbe!" Haru shouted.

"No, wait!" Draco called out. "These are Crabbe's clippings."

Ron shot Haru a relatively triumphant look. "No take-backs, Haru. You're so eager to be Crabbe, I'm more than happy to oblige you."

Hermione grabbed the jars from Draco and looked closely at their contents. "Neither of them have athlete's foot. In fact, these clippings aren't even human."

Draco looked rather put upon. "Spoil all my fun why don't you, Granger?" Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he pulled out two small envelopes. "Here. I've collected hairs for the potion. They tend to go down easier. From what I've read, I gather toenails have been known to get stuck in the drinker's throat."

Ron and Haru looked both green and yet grateful at the same time.

"I think that, since it is a Saturday, we might as well proceed now," Draco suggested. "I've taken the liberty of stupefying the poor saps and stuffing them in a broom closet."

"Those poor brooms," Ron muttered.

Hermione divvied up the potion into two flasks and the appropriate hairs were added.

Ron and Haru turned to face each other and raised their flasks in a mock toast. "Bottoms up." And then each took a swallow.

Haru wondered if this was what the Wicked Witch of the West felt when she was melting into a puddle of steaming goo at the end of The Wizard of Oz. Then he decided that the witch had probably gotten off easy.

Draco stopped in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "Do you have your flasks?" he asked the fake Crabbe and Goyle. "You may need to take another dose before we're finished. And for Merlin's sake, Kurosaki, do try to look less intelligent."

"How about me?" Ron asked with Goyle's face. "Do I look stupid enough to pass for Goyle?"

Draco waved a hand dismissively. "I'm not worried about you, Weasley. You'll blend right in."

"Just open the door, Draco," Haru ordered.

"All right, all right. But no more bossing me around. Crabbe would never dare tell me what to do." Draco turned to the wall and whispered, "Icky Icky Icky Ftang Whoop Boing!" and then glared at a snickering Haru. "What's so funny?"

Haru just shook his head. "Let me guess. Snape sets the password?"

Draco frowned and looked puzzled. "How did you know that?"

"I'll tell you later."

The wall opened up and the three boys stepped into the snakes' den. It looked surprisingly normal. Comfy even. Ron seemed disappointed. "I was hoping for something a little more dramatic. Like…I dunno…skulls, or something."

"Oh, that would be Billy and Boris on the mantelpiece," said Draco, nodding to their left. "Legend has it that they're two students who disgraced Slytherin House centuries ago. No one remembers what the offense was, but some say it involved a niffler and a jar of peach preserves."

"I don't even want to know," Haru muttered.

Suddenly, a shrill voice cried out, "Greg! You're late!" Pansy ran up to Ron and began dragging him toward the sofas by one arm. "Daphne was just about to recite her latest rant – I mean poem."

Orange and loud

Fumbling through clouds

In the sky

Disgusting and rude

Smelly and crude

Why oh why

Can't they all up and die?

Chudley Cannons

Thank you.

"WHAT THE-?" Goyle's face contorted with Ron's rage, and Haru grabbed the back of his robes to keep him in his seat.

Draco smacked Ron on the head. "Really, Goyle. I don't care if her poetry's better than yours. That's no reason to behave like a gorilla."

Haru looked disturbed. "Goyle writes poetry?" he whispered to Draco.

"Yes. Mostly about the Holyhead Harpies – Gwenog Jones in particular," Draco whispered back.

Pansy turned to RonGoyle and prodded him forward. "Share that one you've been working on all week, Greg. The one you wouldn't even give me a single peek at."

"Uh…" Ron looked slightly panicked.

"It's all right, Greg," Pansy assured him. "You're among friends. No judging here."

"Ahem." Ron looked about the room nervously. "Ahem."

She flies through the air

The wind in her hair

Wielding her club of doom…

Hermione was pacing the girl's bathroom when the three boys returned from their reconnaissance mission. "Well? How did it go? Did you find anything?" she demanded.

"Um…" Haru and Draco looked at Ron, who was avoiding eye contact.

Draco looked back at Hermione. "There's good news and bad news."

"Yes?"

"The bad news is that we didn't find out any information on the Heir of Slytherin. I'm pretty sure he's not in Slytherin House."

"Oh," Hermione looked disappointed. "But what's the good news?"

Draco grinned. "We've discovered Weasley has a gift for poetry. Oh, and Goyle will be reciting a poem at the next Serpent Stanzas Poetry Group meeting, accompanied by an interpretive dance by Crabbe."

"Oh my."

"And Kurosaki here nearly blew it a dozen times with his over-excessive use of large words."

"Hey!" Haru objected. "I was trying to make things rhyme!"

Draco fixed him with an exasperated look. "Really? 'A metaphor wrapped in an allegory and kissed by a simile?' What does that rhyme with?"

"Well, you would have found out if you'd let me finish. Now I've forgotten."

"And pairing 'broom' with 'fruit of the loom'? What does that even mean?"

Hermione looked appalled. "You were composing poetry about undergarments? That seems rather inappropriate, Haru."

"I panicked, okay? I don't compose well under pressure."

"Never mind," said Draco. "This whole afternoon has been both pointless and entertaining. Now, is it later yet?"

Haru frowned. "Later?"

"You said you'd tell me later how you knew Snape set the password for our common room," Draco reminded him.

Haru smiled. "Ah, the password. Icky Icky Icky Ftang Whoop Boing!"

Hermione looked bemused. "The password to the Slytherin common room is a Monty Python quote?"

"What?" Draco demanded. "What does that mean? Tell me what's going on."

"Beats me," Ron shrugged. "Must be a muggle thing."

Draco looked scandalized.

ZA: Ah…sweet poetry. I'll leave the details of the next Serpent Stanzas meeting to your imaginations.