Hello, everyone! Angel Dragoon would like to thank you for reading book one of Harry Potter and the Magnificent Farce! Starting with this chapter, we will continue to follow Harry and his friends in book two, following Harry's adventures over the course of his third year. This time around, they'll be facing turmoil from within, difficult new staff members, a mysterious competition, Voldemort's latest plot, and more drivel than you can shake a wand at. Without further ado, let's read:

Harry Potter and the Most Depressing Volume

Chapter 1: En Route to the World Cup

"Welcome to our humble home," said Seamus, opening the door.

Seamus's house was a beautiful three-story country home that wouldn't be out of place in a home and garden magazine. It was done up in a rustic style, with patterned wallpaper and rough carpet. The iron spikes gave it a gothic flare, however. The house normally looked different, but because their parents were on holiday in the Caribbean, Seamus and his sister had decided to add a few wizard touches, such as a chimney that puffed out multi-colored smoke rings and a door that opened on the knob side.

"It smells like sugar cookies in here," said Harry, sniffing the air.

"I've made some. Want one?" asked an alluring voice from the kitchen.

They entered the kitchen, where Seamus's sister, Shaina, was waiting with a tray. Harry had seen her over the course of the last year, but had never really gotten to speak with her, as she had an entirely different group of friends. And she was in Slytherin. Now, though, she seemed all smiles and sugar.

"Sure," said Harry amiably, taking one off the tray.

"Thanks, sis," said Seamus, reaching for one.

She swatted his hand.

"For shame. We haven't even had supper yet. We don't want to spoil your appetite, now do we?" she asked with a very syrupy smile.

"Right. Appetite," muttered Seamus, shaking his stung hand.

The supper was shepherd's pie with cut beans. Harry had two helpings and was quite full when they moved to the sitting room to fill the corners with plasma tea and jam tarts. There was a nice fire going in the hearth and comfortable armchairs to sit in. Harry felt more at home here than he ever had at the Dursleys.

"I wonder if Ron's family will ever get that ghoul exterminated," speculated Seamus.

"Ghoul?" asked Harry, still not very well briefed on the beasts of the magical world.

"It's a rather ugly and slimy creature that lives in their attic. It moans all night long. I had to sleep up there while visiting once and I saw it eat a rat. It was disturbing to say the least."

"What, fur and all?"

"No, worse. It skinned it with its claws and tore out the organs with its teeth before devouring them raw. It chewed the carcass to a pulp and spat out the bone fragments."

"Come now, brother dear. Don't disturb our guest. He has to sleep tonight, remember?" reasoned Shaina. "In fact, it's probably about time we all got to bed. That way we can get up bright and early tomorrow."

"Oh, fine."

They all changed for bed, had a last cup of plasma tea and went to bed without brushing or flossing or rinsing. Harry's room contained a four-posted bed, an oak dresser, a sturdy chest and a silver-backed mirror. He kicked off his shoes and got under the sheets. He was just beginning to drift off to sleep when the door opened and a hand holding a candle entered the room. Harry sat up.

"Are you awake? Yes, I can see now that you are."

It was Shaina. Harry stared at her, since it would have been nearly impossible not to, as she was wearing a Victorian era nightdress with beautifully crafted rose pattern lace running around the cuffs and hem and a white lily pattern on the body of the garment. She had a white carnation threaded through the cinnamon hair over her ear.

"Not too shy to accept a little company tonight?" asked she.

Harry was too stunned for words.

"Strictly in the interest of keeping warm," she assured him, sitting down and pulling back the duvet. "Nice wood."

"Maple, isn't it?" asked Harry, pointing at a bedpost.

"Not what I meant," said Shaina, smiling and blowing out the candle.

.

"Have a good night's sleep?" asked Seamus when he came in the next morning.

"I suppose you could say that," said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

Shaina must have left at some point during the night because she wasn't in the room.

"What do you think of her?" asked Seamus, twirling a white carnation he had found on the dresser.

"Who?"

"My sister, of course."

"Fine, I guess."

"Fine? She shagged you, mate."

"What would give you that idea?" asked Harry, pulling on his jeans.

"I know my sister," said Seamus flatly, setting the carnation back down on the dresser.

"What of it?"

"Nothing."

"Not going to get on me about taking your sister's innocence?"

"She's far from innocent."

"I'll give you that."

"Seventy-seven."

"Huh?"

"You were number 77."

"Jeez. She doesn't have anything, you think?"

"No, I'm pretty sure. She doesn't give, she takes."

"That's one way of putting it," said Harry matter-of-factly.

"Don't expect any affection out of her. Or second helpings."

"I kind of guessed that after you said seventy-seven," said Harry as he put his glasses on. "Was she saving me for that number?"

"Probably. She passed 49 sometime three years ago."

"How do you know?"

"What?"

"How many guys she's slept with."

"They're not all guys. And it's pretty obvious. Once a month she sleeps with someone new and only once."

"Hasn't found anyone she fancies?"

"Don't be a bugger about this," groaned Seamus.

"I won't. It's just that I've never gone looking for a girl and…"

"It was never your first time!"

"It was. And I'm not ashamed to admit it," Harry shook his head and checked his hair. "Perfect."

"Nice bedhead."

"You didn't think I had it naturally, did you?"

"Course not."

Seamus slammed the door behind him as they went downstairs for breakfast. Seamus made up some scrambled eggs on toast with sausage for them and Harry squeezed oranges in the juice press.

"Happy f***ing 4 A.M." muttered Shaina as she came downstairs. "Have we got any firewhisky?"

"Happy f***ing good morning to you, too, sis. No, we don't. That's offensive," said Seamus, pointing at her boxers and undershirt.

"Your bunny slippers are offensive. Pass the sausage, Harry."

"Don't insult Mr. and Mrs. Flopsy, they're right here you know."

"Yes, of course I know, they're under that table every morning."

"What if I made fun of your bear, eh? How would you like that?"

"I couldn't care either way."

"He's a worn old dustrag, he is. He's so fallen to pieces that you can't even tell he's a bear."

"Feh."

"And you f*** him because you're insecure."

"Piss. Off," said Shaina darkly.

"I swear, she really does! Every night, 'I love you so much Mr. Reagan! What would I do without you Mr. Reagan?' If I had five pence for every time she- ahh! Blimey!"

Shaina had thrown the butter scraper at him and hit his hand, leaving a red bar on his skin.

"If you'll excuse me, boys, I'll be eating in my room."

After his sister had left, Seamus turned to Harry, who had until now remained carefully silent throughout the proceedings, and said, "Sisters."

.

"F***ing freezing out here," remarked Shaina, shivering.

"Oh, get over it already," snapped Seamus, who was wearing a wool jacket and jeans. "Why did you wear a raincoat and boots anyway?"

"They make me look cute."

"You mean childish."

This bought Seamus an angry growl and muttering. Harry was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. It wasn't because of the cold, either. He was dressed in a fashion similar to Seamus. In this part of England it did get rather cold this late in the summer.

"Ever use a Portkey before?" asked Seamus.

Harry shook his head and Seamus elaborated. "They're essentially teleporting stuff."

"What sort of stuff?"

"Just stuff. A Portkey can be anything. The one we'll be looking for is an empty sardine can."

"And then what? Do you cast some sort of spell on it?"

"No, you just touch it and wait for it to become active."

"Which happens when?"

"Portkeys can be set with a number of parameters, but ours leaves at six twenty four."

"Four f***ing A.M." muttered Shaina.

"Maybe you shouldn't have stayed up so late," said Seamus with a small smirk.

"Maybe you should get a girlfriend so you're not looking for another outlet for your energy," retorted Shaina, smiling when she earned an unhappy grunt from Seamus.

They had been walking for the last twenty minutes, slowly making their way to a ring of standing stones on the nearby downs.

"Is that Stonehenge?" asked Harry suspiciously.

"The real one," said Seamus, with an exclamatory finger.

Harry was beginning to get used to this sort of surprise and didn't ask about it. He knew the answer would be something along the lines of "muggles would do something stupid with the real Stonehenge."

"There it is!" cried Seamus happily, pointing at an empty sardine can in the ditch.

"Is it the right one?"

"Yeah, see? It's got the Ministry of Magic logo on it."

Indeed it did… Do I really have to tell you?

Harry reached out his hand and placed a single finger on it. The outside of the can was slimy with ditch muck. Shaina reached out a gloved hand and touched the can also, glaring at Seamus.

"What? Did you actually expect me to wipe it off for you?"

Shaina's gaze softened before refocusing on the can. Harry hoped that it would be 6:24 soon. Suddenly he felt a sudden pull at his navel and he, Seamus, and Shaina disappeared, leaving the f***ing freezing road behind them.