UPDATED FOR GRAMMAR AND FLOW
A/N: This is a little one-shot I made that is based off a game of "Kill the Cat" I played with my hilarious friend Jessica at school one day. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, I'll enlighten you to the joys of the game.
To play, you must have two people, one on offense (trying to kill the cat) and the other on defense (trying to defend the cat). To start, you must get a piece of paper and draw a simple picture of a cat in the middle. Then, the offense goes first, drawing on the paper whatever they wish in an attempt to kill the cat. For example, one could draw a crossbow pointed at the cat. Then, the defensive person must draw how the cat will be defended from said offender's weapon. So, the defender may draw a vampire in the path of the crossbow, thus taking the shot and defending the cat. This goes on until: A) the defender cannot think of a way to defend the cat and the cat subsequently dies, B) The offender cannot find a way to break the defense and gives up (this is very rare), or C) the defender is able to slyly get the cat to escape (as is used in the story).
This game is a blast to play, especially when played against a creative little nugget like I did. As our game got a bit crazy, the stuff that goes on below is going to be unrealistic at best. So just chill yourself out and enjoy as you let the craziness consume you.
How to Kill a Kitty-Cat
Ron and Harry happily munched on some salty popcorn while procrastinating on their homework on a fine Thursday evening when Ron reached to grab his mug of warm pumpkin juice, because the popcorn was, as stated, rather salty. Just when the mug reached his lips, a fluffy, orange blur jumped right on their table, knocking the mug from his hands, spilling the hot, sticky liquid all over his halfway done homework. The mug was sent flying off the table and onto the floor where the handle snapped off and the cup broke into at least five pieces, probably more.
"CROOKSHAAANKS!" Screamed Ron to the downy cat, whose apparent reason for causing such a disturbance was the sight of a mystifying dot of flickering light.
"Don't yell at him Ron!" chastised an incoming Hermione, her wild brown hair flying in a mane behind her, the sight of which strangely reminded Harry of Crookshanks' fur. She weaved her way from the other side of the room, carrying an armful of books and parchment with her.
"Did you see what he did? Look at my work!"
"Honestly Ron," began Hermione, pulling her wand from her robes. Pointing it at the broken mug, she gave it a swish, reciting the spell she'd repeated countless times in her years, the majority of of which were with the same two people.
"Repario,"
The scattered pieces of mug quickly shot back together, the cracks sealing themselves until they were invisible, leaving the mug and looking good as new. Content with her work, Hermione smiled and turned to leave.
"Hermione!" Whined Ron from behind her, "What about my work?"
Turning back around, she saw the damage done to his homework; the juice not only made the ink run together, but it also stained his parchment a dark orange.
"I'm sorry Ron, but there's nothing I can do. You'll just have to start over I guess," she announced, trying to stifle a grin.
"I wouldn't believe that for a second," said Harry, finally chiming in to the conversation. "You're brightest witch in this entire school and you're telling me you can't fix a little spill?"
Hermione turned back around, a dark look on her face. "Flattery will get you," she started in a heated tone before popping a smile, "everywhere."
Pulling her wand out again, Hermione pointed it at the sopping wet parchment, and smiled when reciting the spell to clean a surface, the second most commonly used spell around her most frequented friends.
"Tergeo!"
The juice was sucked up from the papers and flowed into Hermione's wand. After the liquid was gone, the ink wriggled back into it's original, thin, scrawled letters. Happy with her success, Hermione grinned proudly, Harry joining her. He was always happy when his friends were happy, but for some reason, Ron was still frowning.
"Oi, what's eating you?"
"That bloody cat is always causing trouble!" He shouted, pointing at the puffy fur-ball that was now attacking a lint ball rolling on the common room floor.
"What do you mean?" Asked Hermione, ignorant to her pet's misdoings. "Crookshanks is a model citizen!"
"You clearly haven't kept a good enough eye on him! Just yesterday I found him walking off with my left shoe. Just the left one! What normal cat would do that?!"
"It's true Hermione, I was there. He tried to go for mine next, but I, uh, I kind of, kicked him."
"YOU WHAT?!"
Harry hung his head, not wanting to see the fire that was dancing in Hermione's enraged eyes.
"He also destroyed my Chudley Cannons poster! Do you know how important that is to me?"
"Oh please Ron, it was barely a scratch," she replied, dropping her books on the boys' table before making her way to her cat, now rolling itself all over a certain patch of the floor which Harry distinctly remembered Collin Creevy vomiting on a few weeks ago after "testing" one of Fred and George's puking pasties. Grimacing, he watched as she picked up the cat under its front legs and rubbed her forehead against his before cradling him infant-style.
"It's a bit more than a scratch Hermione. It nearly tore in half."
"Frankly, Ron," started Hermione, irritation clear across her face, "I don't give a damn."
"How much of a damn would you care to give if I decided to do off with that devil cat!" snapped Ron.
Both Harry and Hermione jaws dropped at the sudden outburst from their friend. Drawing her precious darling closer to her, prompting a squeak from said darling, Hermione gasped "Surely you can't be serious?"
"I am serious!" shouted Ron. "And don't call me Shirley! As a matter of fact, I'm so serious that I propose a duel!"
"A duel?" Asked Hermione, relieved.
"Ron, you do know who you're dueling, right?" whispered Harry, leaning over in a sorry attempt to conceal his words from the magical genius standing a few feet away, her ears like satellites.
"Yeah I know. I propose we duel for the cat!" continued Ron, still hot-headed. "I'll try to kill it, and you can try to protect it. Deal?"
"Deal," agreed Hermione, shifting the rather heavy weight of Crookshanks to one arm so she could properly shake Ron's hand, locking the agreement.
This ought to be easy, thought Hermione.
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Two nights later, Harry and Ron sat waiting in the room of requirement with a sizable crowed of students for Hermione to arrive. Fred and George had already begun the betting, with almost everyone's money on Hermione to win, even the Twins'. The room had been set up with a swimming-pool-like arena in the middle of the room, two very tall pedestals on opposite ends of the area, and stands outside of it for the spectators.
A few minutes past the agreed meeting time and Ron was about ready to call off the duel. Honestly, he was growing a bit nervous about this whole thing, though he would never admit it. Just in time, Hermione arrived with a serious, yet smug expression painted on her face and the oversized, orange cotton ball of a cat in her arms. As soon as she entered, all conversation in the room hushed.
"So, you finally decided to show up."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world."
The pre-duel banter expected by the crowd never happened. This was between friends, and these friends didn't screw around when they fought. Hermione and Ron both climbed down into the arena, with Crookshanks already springing his way to the center of the arena where a piece of paper was placed to lure him. Ron and Hermione took their positions on opposing pedestals; giving each other a good, smirking glare before Ron shouted his first incantation.
"Arcua Sagittam!" Shouted Ron, pointing his wand straight at the demon cat who had settled itself to sleeping, belly up right overtop of the paper. Dust began to gather out of nowhere and formed itself into a floating bow, with an arrow settling itself into the string. Just as the string began to tighten, Hermione's wand swished at the air. A few feet in front of the bow and arrow, a large, dark brown, gelatinous mass appeared.
"Bloody Hell Hermione! What's that?"
Hermione just smiled as the arrow continued to tighten until it reached it's limit. In the time it takes one to blink, the string released it's tension, sending the arrow flying towards the mass.
Only sinking a few inches into it, the mass prevented the arrow from hitting the oblivious cat.
"A pudding shield," stated Hermione calmly.
"Pudding?!" Shouted Ron, incredulous. He turned to face Harry, who was standing behind him on the outside of the arena, a look of total terrified surprise on his face. Harry quickly threw his hands up, in a gesture that translated to "Don't look at me!"
"Hey! No cheating over there!"
Looking over to the crowd that had gathered for inspiration, Ron saw Malfoy and his lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, sniggering at some no doubt dumb comment Malfoy had said.
"Wingardium- Leviosa!"
Over in the stands, a shocked Goyle was beginning to rise in the air, and made its way to the arena, until he was just below the pudding mass, at which point Ron released him, and let Goyle fall the short distance to the ground, landing flat on his over-sized bum.
On the ground, Goyle stood up and started rubbing his sore bum before lifting his head to sniff the air. He sniffed again, then for a third time. There was no need for a fourth time; he had caught the scent of something sugary and delicious and wasted no time in stuffing his face.
Back on his pedestal, Ron silently cheered on Goyle. His plan was working magnificently. He swished his wand again, forming another arrow.
On the other side of the room, Hermione was thinking. After a moment she lifted her wand again, this time casting her enchantment verbally.
"Aegrotus!" She screamed, watching as the arrow began pulling back against the string, its sharp tip pointed straight at her precious furry baby.
Immediately, Goyle stopped slurping down the pudding. He stumbled backwards for a moment before turning a clammy, greenish color. Up in the stands, Fred and George looked over from talking to Oliver Wood. Quickly glancing at each other to confirm that what they saw was true, the two turned back to stare at the Goyle who was beginning to look like one of the victims of their Puking Pasties. The twins squinted, hoping to get a clear view when the glutton eventually started blowing chunks, or, more fittingly, pudding.
The twins were right in their assumption, for the cretin soon started stumbling before falling on his knees and emptying his stomach. The arrow, its presence forgotten since attention turned to the sickly boy, reached its tensile limit on the bow and released itself. Luckily for Crookshanks, still happily sleeping on the floor, Goyle ate only half of the pudding shield, and therefore the was still stopped in its gummy surface.
"Oi!" shouted a familiar, whining voice from the audience, "What the hell is this?"
Malfoy had stood up from his spot, staring at his poor friend spilling his cookies all over the arena floor.
"Stuff it Malfoy!" shouted Ron from his stand, miffed at Hermione's block. "This is a Gryffindor-only duel!"
"You call this a duel? You shouldn't even be allowed to touch a wand, Weasly! Except for Potter, You and Granger are an insult to the practice!"
"Are you sure you want to say that Malfoy?" Asked Hermione from her stand, a deadly frown on her face, and an even darker looking wand pointed at him.
"I'm not scared of you, you filthy Mudblood."
Without hesitation, she pulled her wand back, then swung forward again as she screamed, "Tarantallegra!"
Immediately, Malfoy lost control of his legs as they began shaking and stepping in a way that could only politely be described as dancing. In truth, it was more of an epileptic jitterbug, or a drunken river dance. Taking hold of his friend, Crabbe grabbed Malfoy's arm and pulled him down the stands, trying to lead him out of the room and escape any more embarrassment. Shoving the brute off him, Malfoy attempted to walk on his own, almost tripping over his own wildly kicking feet.
Dancing as fast as he could out of the room, Malfoy turned back around to yell, "My father will hear about this!" before exiting.
Laughter and cheer erupted from the stands, as no one really liked Malfoy. In the arena though, the duel continued, as Ron gave up on his bow and arrow and moved on to create a new type of weapon. Hermione, never one to be distracted, intently watched her opponent's next move.
"Procursus!" He shouted, and from his wand shot black sand, that formed itself into a ball, with a long, black stick coming out of it. "Incendio" he whispered.
The end of the black stick lit up with little sparks, crawling closer and closer to the ball. Realizing what it was, Hermione frantically shouted the first thing that popped into her head.
"China! Prodio-China!"
Then, by powers unknown, an enormous, scale replica of the entire country of China appeared, shielding the left side of Crookshanks entirely. The cat, finally realizing that something was happening. Looked up at the underside of China, blinked, then promptly flipped over to sleep on his stomach.
"China, Hermione?! CHINA?" Shouted an exasperated Ron. "How in the Hell and I supposed to counter bloody China!"
Frustrated, Ron, swung his wand, sending the bomb flying towards, well, China. Upon hitting the country, the bomb exploded, but, as expected, did not harm the lounging feline. A moment later, Ron's eye caught a small explosion occur on the opposite end of China. He watched the explosion until he saw a medium sized gray rocket come out of the fire, and head straight for the base of his pedestal.
"Mobiliarbus!" He shouted, sending the rocket away from his base and into the wall of the arena. From across the arena, Hermione had covered her mouth with her hand to conceal her giggling.
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"… So the next morning I found a pixie in my robes! How he got in my robes I will never know!"
Professor Flitwick started laughing at his own joke while Professor Snape simply made a grumbling sound in the back of his throat. Looking away from the other teacher, Snape scanned the halls again for anything out of place. His hawk-like eyes traced every tile on the floor, every painting on the walls, every curve of the masonry for even the slightest sign of a disturbance. He had known for a long time that Potter possessed the same invisibility cloak that his childhood tormentor once had, and was determined to catch him with it and confiscate it.
Swish, swish, swish…
Snape's head snapped in the direction of the noise. His eyes narrowed, and his ears opened, waiting for the next sound.
"So I went to Dumbledore and asked-"
Snape's head whipped back around to glare at the oblivious Professor, placing a rigid finger over his mouth.
"Oh, oh, I see," said Flitwick, slightly surprised. "Do you think it's a student?" He said, beginning to whisper.
Swallowing the urge to say something rude, Snape simply nodded.
Both of them remained silent for the next minute until the swishing started again, this time louder. Snape narrowed his eyes, eager to catch some students out of bed, namely a particular green-eyed Gryffindor.
"What are we going to do about Goyle?" Whispered a deep, slow, voice that was painfully familiar to the potions masters trained ears.
"Stuff it, will you?" Whispered another voice.
Rounding the corner were two young Slytherins, trying pitifully to sneak back to their dorm undetected.
Disappointed at having to catch his own house members, and even more disappointed that he hadn't taught them well enough how to get around undetected, Snape sulked down the staircase, making his way to the Slytherins, now frozen to their spot.
"Out after curfew?" Squeaked the white haired charms professor, "You know better than that."
"Yes, you do know better than that, don't you boys?" Repeated Snape. "Seeing as how these are boys from my own House, I believe it would be better if I handled this."
"By all means!" replied Flitwick, perhaps a bit too cheerily.
Snape grabbed the boys harshly by their shoulders and started pushing them in the direction they came from. As soon as they were a safe distance away from Flitwick, Snape turned the boys around.
"Begin explaining yourselves." Commanded Snape, crossing his arms.
"Potter and his friends are dueling in the Room of Requirement!" Blurted Draco, eager to save his own skin. Snape raised his eyebrow.
"A-a-and they hurt Goyle!" Continued Crabbe.
Snape looked from Malfoy to Crabbe then back again.
"Back to your dormitories, the both of you." He commanded.
Relieved that they received no punishment, the two boys sprinted off.
Snape watched them leave before continuing down the corridor. A small, thin smirk formed on his face.
I'll get you this time Potter, and your little friends too!
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A hush settled over the crowed as Ron made his next attack. In the time it took some seventh years to clear away the debris from the previous round, namely the piles of vomit and the massive replica of China, Ron had been thinking, and quite deeply at that. When the clean-up crew returned to their seats, Ron mashed his eyebrows together in a look of severe concentration before flinging his wand out in front of him.
"Muris-Armatum!"
Right next to a now awake Crookshanks appeared a rather fake looking mouse toy. Although not the smartest cat, Crookshanks was certainly one of the most easily distracted. His eyes immediately locked onto the mouse, his fluffy, matted tail whipping back and forth behind him as if swatting flies.
"Incendio," whispered Ron from his pedestal.
Hermione squinted to look at the little mouse Ron had created. She soon saw a little flickering light spark up on the back of the mouse. After her eyes widened in shock, a grimace formed on her mouth.
"Another bomb Ron?" She asked. "It's not very creative."
"Crookshanks doesn't think so!" Shouted Ron back, feeling confident in his weapon.
Letting out a dramatic sigh, Hermione raised her wand again, "Occulus-Aparecium!"
Slowly, a pair of large, thick glasses appeared in the little smushed up nose of Crookshanks. After shaking his head a few times to get the glasses off to no avail, he decided just to deal with the new style. Turning his head back to the sparkling mouse, Crookshanks had a sudden epiphany.
Jumping up as if someone had just thrown water on him, Crookshanks took off in a direction that would take him as far away as possible from the dangerous looking mouse.
"Glasses!" Shouted a smug Hermione to her confused opponent. "They let Crookshanks see right through you little Mouse-bomb!"
"We'll see about that!" Yelled Ron, swinging his wand violently whilst screaming "Annulo stultitiea!"
Forming around the cat's fluffy tail was a bright purple ring. Upon the ring's total formation, a sort of jolt went through the cat, making its tongue loll out of its mouth and its eyes go crossways. Stumbling, the cat made it's way back to the mouse bomb, whose fuse grew progressively shorter.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BABY?!" Screeched Hermione.
"I put a ring on his tail that cancels out the smart glasses, bringing him right back to his normal, stupid self!" He yelled back from across the huge arena.
Grumbling, Hermione lifted her want again, yelling out another summoning charm, "Accio-Cheese!" A few moments later, a thick block of pale yellow cheese flew through the door of the Room of Requirement, landing itself roughly a few feet away from the mouse bomb. The mouse, which everyone once thought was simply plastic, turned itself towards the aromatic cheese lying near it. Squeaking in delight at its amazing luck, the mouse sped off towards the treasure, only to explode rather dramatically upon touching it, sending chunks of Gouda spraying across the stands.
Crookshanks was at precisely the right distance to be jostled by the explosion, but not harmed. The rumbling of the ground caused by the explosion dislodged the mentally influencing accessories created by Ron and Hermione enough that, with a good shake, Crookshanks was able to fling them off himself and return to his original intelligence which, as Ron said earlier, wasn't much better than with the garnishes.
Over on his pedestal, Ron through his hands up in vexation.
"I'm sick of this!" He yelled in his anger, "I'm just sick of it!"
"Are you forfeiting?" Asked Hermione hopefully. She had a quiz in potions on Monday and needed to study if she was to succeed in acing it like she planned.
"Never," answered Ron seriously, "Escopetia!"
Ever the creative one, out of Ron's wand squeezed two long, black, shiny barrels that were connected at the end by a piece of crafted wood. The shotgun floated aggressively down to the cat, hovering just a few feet away. Next, Ron's wand produced two black cylinders; shells for the gun.
Shocked, Hermione drew a blank as to how she would defend her beloved kitty.
"Homo-Mortalis!" She finally screamed, becoming desperate as she saw the bullets find their way to the shotgun.
In a puff of black smoke, a pale person dressed in all black appeared. He was sobbing all over himself and had many white lines on his arms.
"Please!" He screamed, "Kill me now! Just do it! Take me out of this world of pain!"
Confused, the crowed looked at the sobbing person, unsure as to what Hermione had just summoned. Even Fred and George, who had kept up with the duel rather well until then, were mystified.
"A… A suicidal person?" Asked Ron, shocked at both her ability to conjure such a specific human being, and by her unspeakable audacity.
"I… guess so…" mumbled Hermione, a surprised in both of the ways Ron was. "Umm, yeah. Yes!" she shouted, trying to act like she had planned that all along. "A suicidal person to take the bullet for Crookshanks!"
"That's pretty morbid, don't you think Hermione?" Mumbled Harry from his spot in the stands.
Still staring at the now blubbering mess of a man, Ron glanced at the shotgun he had conjured. Jumping, he watched as the gun cracked open for the bullets to load.
"Tardium!" He shouted, freezing the shotgun in place so it wouldn't shoot the poor, depressed man.
"Just do it! Shoot me! Set me free!" He screamed. Ron just grimanced.
"Accio-Jim Carrey!" He yelled. "Accio-Guitar!"
Nothing happened for a few minutes, as everyone waited for the comedian and instrument to show up. In this span of time, everyone awkwardly looked on as the suicidal man curled into the fetal position and sobbed.
Flying through the doors came the celebrity, looking quite bewildered, and following him came an acoustic guitar. Landing softly and gracefully, as only the stars can, Carrey's brown eyes found the suicidal man. Knowing exactly what to do, he grabbed the guitar that had landed softly next to him, tuned it for a moment, then knelt before the man. Clearing his voice, he started singing:
"Wish you would step back from that gun my friend. You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in,"
The man brought his head out from between his knees and his eyes widened.
"And, if you never want to see me again, I would understaaaand! I would understaaaaaaaaaaaa-a-a-a-a-a-and!" Carrey paused for a moment. "Umm… What is that line? Ugh!"
"The angry boy a bit too insane, icing over a secret pain, you know you don't belong!" belted the man, his voice hoarse from sobbing.
"Well everyone I know has got a reason, to say,"
The crowd in the stands chimed in, singing "You can put the past away!"
As Jim Carrey, the suicidal man, and the crowd kept singing, Ron's gun very slyly tilted away from the suicidal man and towards Crookshanks, who'd migrated away from the loud music and into his own little corner of the arena. Hermione, ever watchful of her baby, saw the slight movement of the gun, and began to form her counter attack.
Mumbling something under her breath, another person appeared in the arena. A tall, large man wearing a black shirt with Jim Carrey's face, complete with huge smiling teeth, cut into fourths by a large red 'X'.
"JIM CARREY?!" He bellowed, "I HATE JIM CARREY!"
Roaring like a dinosaur, the man grabbed the gun and pointed it at the now silent guitar player.
"No!" Screamed a voice from the stands.
"Yeah, don't even touch him!" Screamed another.
Running towards the arena from their spot on the stands were two girls wearing similar shirts to the first man, minus the red 'X'.
"We love Jim Carrey and everything he does! We will not let you shoot him!" The two girls stepped in front of the gunman's target, blocking his shot.
"I love Jim Carrey too!" Shouted another, hoarse, voice. It was the recovering suicidal man, wiping his eyes from his tears. "This man saved my life, and now I'm going to save his!"
The recovering suicidal man lunged at the hater, amazingly knocking him over, despite the huge size difference. The two Jim Carrey fans joined the first man in attacking the hater.
Finally getting what they came for, the crowed became absorbed in the fistfight going on below, and completely ignored the rest of the arena. Ron, entranced in the fight as well, didn't watch as Hermione created a portkey out of the pair of smart glasses she'd conjured up earlier. Levitating her cat, she brought Crookshanks overtop of the key, and softly dropped him on it, effectively sending him back to her room.
"Hey Rooon!" Called Hermione in a sing-song voice. "Where did Crookshanks go?"
Looking up from the fight, where one of the fangirls had just bitten down on the hater's leg, Ron scanned the room. Finding the cat nowhere, his eyes eventually landed on the smug looking girl standing on the stand opposite him.
"You-you-you" he stuttered,
"I-I-I" She yelled back, mocking him, "WON!"
The crowed all looked over from the fight to the owner of the scream just in time to see the doors to the Room of Requirement fly open, revealing a dangerous looking gaggle of professors.
"What the devil is going on here?" Asked an irritated McGonagall. Snape had woken her up on one of the few nights she didn't have watch duty to bust a group of students. "What is this? Dueling? This is not a dueling club, this is HOGWARTS! " She yelled, finally releasing her pent-up anger from being woken up on the students.
The students remained still for a moment, not sure what to do. Then, a brave, not to mention smart, soul piped up, screaming "Run you fools!"
The crowed seemed to get the hint, because they all took off running. The bewildered professors had very few ideas on how to handle the mob of sprinting students, so they followed their primal instincts and ran out of their way. Snape, cursing the rule that forbade teachers to use magic on students, attempted to snag the one boy whom he had been trying to bust all year. Reaching out for his robes, his fingers just missed as another student knocked them out of the way in his haste to get out.
From the far side of the arena, the professors heard the sounds of a struggle. Worried that it may be a student who had fallen in, they all gathered around the edge to see what was going on.
Climbing up the far ladder were two girls, one red-eyed man dressed in black, and Jim Carrey. On the arena floor laid a horribly bruised and battered man wearing a blooded shirt with and x-ed out Jim Carrey face.
"And I would have gotten away with it to, if it wasn't for you meddling fangirls and your recovering suicidal man too!"
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A/N:So, did you catch them? Did you? "Catch what?" you may ask. Well, in this one-shot I have hidden at least ten allusions, maybe more. Some are more obvious than others, but promise you, they are all pretty well known pieces. If you think you know any of them, please show off your mad skills by writing the quote from the story and the movie it came from. Thanks for reading and have a great day!
-Noxburry