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Thinking in Little Green Boxes

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Summary: The ever friendly and cuddly Merc with a Mouth discovers a baby named Harry on his doorstep.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories > Theme: Comedy
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories
DireSquirrelFR154985,87746596454,10915 Dec 093 Sep 12No

Strum, strum, strum.

The next morning, Draco Malfoy got up to brush his teeth, bumping into a limping Gregory Goyle. The instant they touched, they started hearing music. It started slow at first, seeming to be generated from one and then the other, alternating as they went, but soon the tempo was almost frantic. Surprised, they jumped apart.

“Stop that!” commanded Draco.

“I’m not doing it!” moaned a scared Goyle.

“You must be! It started when you showed up!” snarled Draco to the other pureblooded wizard. The blond wizard brought up his wand and pointed it right between Goyle’s eyes. “Cease it!”

Goyle ran away and the music stopped. Draco cleaned up and started back towards the common room, Passing by several people, he thought he heard the soft plunking of the original music, but as he went up to his room, there was no sound. Dressing, he met up with Pansy Parkinson again. This time the music blared into action.

“What is that miserable noise?” Parkinson asked.

“I do not recognize it, but I have my suspicions of the source,” Draco said, marching towards the door. He ran right to his House Head before breakfast, but was chased all along by the strange music. The faster Parkinson and Malfoy ran the fast the tempo got until it was nearly maddening. Out of breath, Draco leaned up against the wall outside the great hall.

“Professor Snape, someone has pranked me,” Draco called out. He pointed to a particular set of redheaded twins. “I suspect the usual suspects.”

“And what would this prank be?”

“I’m cursed with music.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Snape said, raising a doubting eyebrow.

“But it was just playing!”

“The only sound I have heard since you approached has come out of your mouth and it’s a far cry from music,” Snape said. Morag McDougall passed by on the way to her seat and the music started up again.

“There! I know you heard it that time!”

“Yes, I did,” Snape said. “And does this only happen around Parkinson?”

“No, Goyle, Crabbe, the prefects,” Draco said. From inside the eating room, they started hearing the music again. This time, however, the source was not Draco.

“Yes, I shall have to look into this,” Snape said in his usual drawn out tone.

Meanwhile, the music was spreading like the common cold in a daycare center. Soon, as people passed by each other, the song grew louder as more and more people generated the music. And it wasn’t just in the Slytherin house anymore, it had spread to the other three, although not as prevalent. The Weasleys, all five of them currently in school, were emitting it as loud as any Slytherin.

“Wait,” commanded Snape. “Why aren’t you playing right now?”

“I don’t know, it stopped when I went up to you,” Draco said.

“Malfoy, go stand next to a Weasley,” Snape ordered. Draco Malfoy looked like his trust had been broken in the most horrid way. “Do as I say, Malfoy.”

Malfoy walked right up to Fred and George Weasley and by the time he got within five feet he started playing the music again and theirs had grown in volume.

“You did this, you filthy blood traitors!” accused Draco angrily.

“Hey! It’s happening to us too!” one of the twins protested.

“I’d give you-“ started the second twin before he was cut off by Snape.

“That’s enough,” the potions professor ordered. “Granger, join Malfoy at the back wall.”

If Draco Malfoy wasn’t insulted before, he was now. To be singled out and be forced to stand next to a mudblood was the worst thing he could imagine. Well not really, but it felt like it was at the moment.

“Why should I?” demanded Hermione Granger.

“I refuse!” snarled Draco.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor for arguing with your professor. Fifty points from Slytherin for refusing to obey your house head,” snarled Snape right back at them. Shocked at the image of Snape actually docking points from Slytherin, the two promptly moved to the back wall. The music instantly stopped. Hermione raised her hand. “What is it Granger?”

“Why is everyone playing Dueling Banjos?” she asked.

“You know the music?” Snape asked.

“Uh, yes,” she said, starting to blush. “It’s, uh, from a movie. A movie is a-”

“I am familiar with the concept. What is this particular movie about, Granger?” Snape said, cutting her off.

“It’s about an American inbred kid with a special ability with banjos. I’m not really supposed to have seen it,” she admitted. “I’m a bit young.”

“And that would explain why only purebloods are affected,” Snape muttered under his breath, too quiet for Draco to hear, but Hermione heard it all.

“That means you’re not-“

“Granger, I am quite capable of eliminating any personal curses and hexes used on me,” Snape snapped.

“Uh, right, of course you are Professor,” she said in a tone full of disbelief, slowly backing away, though she was clearly filing away the information for use at a later date.

“Only a muggle born or muggle raised could have done this,” mused Snape. He immediately dismissed most possibilities. It obviously wasn’t Granger, she would never do such a thing. It could only be the student raised by an American, and that left only one possibility: Harry Potter.

Strangulation continued to resemble a better choice of action.

The young wizard in question was extraordinarily bored. Super mega extremely extraordinarily bored, to be exact. The “Insult the Inbreds Initiative” was not going nearly as well as he had hoped. There was that lack of understanding on the part of the targets. A certain popular culture that wasn’t that popular.

Harry ran back to his room and gave his wand a flick, packing up all his belongings.

“Screw this,” he said to no one in particular. “I’m gonna go hang with Excalibur.”

About two days later the young would-be super-hero showed up on the doorstep of a particularly strange light house.

“Kurt! Kitty! Auntie Rachel!” he called out. Inside, they looked at each other with shocked and confused looks. The blue skinned swashbuckler shook his head.

“Don’t speak, maybe he’ll just go away if he doesn’t know we’re here,” the German mutant suggested. Kitty Pryde nodded and mimicked zipping her mouth shut.

Unfortunately, Harry got bored and took an axe to the front door.

“Heeeere’s Harry!”
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