It's Alive

Here we are, on our second day of the fight: Sirius & James vs. The Closet. Yeah, the fateful second day. As weird as can be (because I think is absurd if you don't believe me) ninety seven books is a lot. REALLY, JAMES? Really.

The thing is I woke up wishing a big hole to "ostrich" as Remus says (ignore some of his quotes. The bloke has the IQ, but sometimes he can embarrass us. It's like he had the greatest quidditch team ever, but put the players to play shuntbumps.) Sirius and I went downstairs, hoping my mum would forget the closet, the cleaning and above all, us.

"Morning, boys! Going somewhere?"

"We're going to play quidditch…" I started innocently.

"You meant second floor, didn't you?" she raised an eyebrow. Argh.

"Yeah... Right."

Okay, I just gave up on trying defeating my mum in this matter, honestly. When we got there, my mind had a duel against that closet, I could feel it.

James: the world is not big enough for the two of us, closet.

Closet: James! I was waiting for you. Come… Open my doors…Vanish in my dust, and see Sirius have a rhinitis attack beside you, throwing his fluids on you… Delicious… Hum!

Disgusting. And there goes Sirius looking at me like I had mental problems. He has more problems than me! Do you believe that git started sneezing beside me when we were putting the books on a pile? I almost fell (He insists to turn to me as he yells: GOSH, DUST! ATCHIIIM!) Over a copy of "Wizard Ballooning" he bought in a consumerism streak (because it has to be that. What sane person would be interested in wizards with balloons?)

We opened the door, and Sirius gave me a bath with his sneezes (I'll stop to mention this things. Better, I'll keep this information to a useful situation.). I gazed at what was on the self: inventions.

XXX

Facts about Uncle Hugo, my mum's brother:

1: Uncle Hugo liked to play with dolls, nobody knows until today. He would build them a playpen, and said they were part of the circus.

2: He had a collection of mussels. I dunno what mussels are, but my mum said they're weird, and Uncle Hugo made costumes for them.

3: He was an inventor, and sometimes did some funny things.

4: Uncle Hugo is the only one who ever confounded a dementor. Ok, that's a legend.

5: He sort of enjoyed a whisky. A lot. Once, in my mum's baptize, he turned about ten bottles, and started to play with the candles. My other aunt's dress caught fire, and he tried to extinguish with more whisky,

6: She survived, just to mention.

7: But stopped talking with him until my mother's fifth birthday, when she asked if he wanted to apologize.

8: And he said no, because he couldn't remember her.

9: She slapped him.

10: He fainted, so drunk he was.

11: He died when I was nine, and used to say I was like him.

12: My mother slapped him.

13: Last week she said she regretted it, because I really have similar problems.

14: Just because I told her Sirius and I were travelling to Alaska to get a puffskein for a pet.

15: Sirius's looking at me that weird way again. I'm punching him right now.

XXX

Well, I stop wondering in time to see Sirius take out a box in which was written: Uncle Hugo.

"So?" I asked Sirius, noticing too late that he was pale and scared, clutching his chest (yeah, I'm careless with my friends, bleh).

"I almost got killed by a rubber chicken that jumped off that box. WHY THE HELL DID YOUR UNCLE HAVE A RUBBER CHICKEN THAT ATTACKS PEOPLE?"

Carefully, I put my head inside the box. There was a broomstick, a hat and many old notebooks.

"A broomstick!" I yelled happily, taking that beautiful thing from the box.

"James, that not a good idea-"Sirius tried to warn me, but it was too late. Before I could fight back, it created legs and arms, wrapping them around my neck.

"What the-"I couldn't finish, since the broomstick hit my face, breaking my glasses in two. I must say that without my glasses I'm half – blind. I felt it push me to the right as Sirius' screams echoed somewhere in my confused mind:

"Mrs. Potter! There's a broom tango dancing with James over here!"

Tango? OH, that must be memorable. Thanks for not laughing at me, Sirius.

I heard my mum coming upstairs, calling my Uncle all the names I knew and a little more and that thing let me go.

"Darling, Jimmy! Be careful!"

Hey, she won't set me free?

"Here." She gave me my repaired glasses, and the broom (or better, her remains, since my mum totally busted the dancer). Sirius, really bright, put his head inside the box.

"Odd, hun? Is this thing a dancer too?" He pulled an old hat from the box (you can see now how he learns with others' bad experiences. Strongly consider this).

"Sirius, this isn't a good idea…"

"Chill, Prongs, I'm fine!"

I was chilling, until that moron put the thing on his head.

"I think you should take it off."

Suddenly he stopped and stared at me, with a weird wide open gaze.

"Padfoot, are you ok?"

"Man! Don't you see? You've got TWO heads, mate!"

Me? With two…

"Sirius, I've only got one-"

"Leg! James, you must have one wing too, 'cause you're totally turning upside down!"

I rolled my eyes and went towards him.

"My uncle was mad, gimme this stupid hat."

"Nope! Only if you take this snail from ya ear!"

What? Great, really great. I turned to see if there was something useful on those papers (really, there's such strange things…) when a sudden cry made my blood turn to ice.

"I'm jumping on three!"

Oh My God.

"SIRIUS, YOU GIT!"

I ran to him, who was about to jump from the window.

"Get down here!"

"TWO…"

I jumped over him and took the hat from his head by force. Of course I regretted right after that, because he fell over me and his is really heavy. One word: argh.

"Wow, I was gonna die! James…"

"Down here, stupid."

"Oh!"

When I could breathe again, we locked the hat and the broom on the box, putting some books over it. The notes we brought to my bedroom, after making sure none of them killed, danced or turned us mad. Aha, I wanna see this stupid broom dance from there now.