First week at the new school...
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“Now, you will follow the recipe exactly and to the letter,” Professor Snape commanded. “I will take points for poor potions and poor attentiveness.” Something caught the potion’s professor’s eye and his head snapped up. “Potter! What is heaven’s name are you doing?”
Harry wasn’t paying attention; he was chanting loudly to himself as he tossed ingredients into the cauldron: “In the poison'd entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!”
“Potter! Stop that! Don’t you know what you’re making?! Stop! Stop at once!”
None of the students had ever seen Professor Snape in this worried, borderline terrified state. And that made even the students scared. “Stop! Somebody stop him!”
But it was too late.“Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.”
Harry tossed in a bit of a snake, quite expertly sliced.“Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;”
Snape started rushing across the room, accidentally tripping on his robes and falling to the floor in a heap.“Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble!”
Harry was tossing in ingredients from his trunk like a madman, all the while quoting a certain Bard. He’d give it the occasional stir and start tossing ingredients in again. The other students, rather worried about Snape’s reaction, started doing the sensible thing and started running out of the classroom. Only a few hung on to watch from the doorway. Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley just peeked in the doorway to watch as the concoction continued. Severus Snape, on the other hand, started having a flashback.
“No, no! It doesn’t work that way! No! You can’t do that! Nooooooooooo!”
Harry however, had started to improvise, considering many of the original ingredients were a bit harder to come by, and some pretty much unacceptable by the general populace excepting individuals like the Red Skull and other unscrupulous super-villains.“Scale of dragon; tooth of woof;
Britches' tummy; maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd tall tree bark;
Root of hemlock digg'd i the dark;
Liver of blaspheming Mew;
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse;
Nose of Orc, and Elven lips;
Tail fur of birth-petted squirrel Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,—
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingrediants of our caldron.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.”
With that, Harry gave a good shake of his wand over the whole mix. Then he zapped it with lightning for dramatic tone. A moment later there was a short, abrupt quaking of the entire castle as psychedelically colored smoke billowed out of the dungeons through windows and staircases.
“Potter, you had better run, because I have a certain desire to strangle you,” Snape snarled as he pulled himself to his feet. His hair had blown upwards into a striking rainbow of colors, almost like a psychedelic version of the Bride of Frankenstein. Harry would have laughed, but he saw the look on the Professor’s face and knew it was time to run and out the door he went. Snape didn’t chase, but he did snarl in the first year’s general direction. “Why, why is it that so many muggleborns know the Unforgivable Potion? Why?”
“It’s from Shakespeare, Professor,” Hermione said from the doorway. “Macbeth.”
“What?” Snape turned in her direction.
“It’s an honored segment of British literature, a tragic play,” she explained, her Gryffindor courage propping her up.
“You mean to tell me that the Unforgivable Potion is the subject of a play?”
“Uh, no, just a small part of it. The play is about how power corrupts,” Hermione explained. Snape suddenly realized he knew it from the same source as a child. Well, that and the page of the Darkhold he had managed to find. “Professor?”
“What is it Granger?”
“Why is it unforgivable? Does it kill?” she asked.
“In a way, it summons an elder demon with no control,” Snape revealed. “We are remarkably lucky Potter failed. Had he succeeded, we would have all been killed soon after. Now, you four are going to help clean up this mess.”
“Me?” Draco asked, suddenly confused why the head of his House was blaming him.
“Yes,” sneered the potions professor. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to strangle the life out of a first year.”
With that he stormed out of the dungeons. The four first years sullenly gathered up their cleaning supplies and wands to clean the almost seizure inducing stain the explosion had caused. Unnoticed by the students, a little yellow paw reached up to the brim of the cauldron soon followed by another. A little yellow face peeked over the brim to view it’s new surroundings.
“Pika?” asked the summoned creature.
“Pika-pika,” answered its companions from inside the cauldron.
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“You’re Harry Potter,” said a girl with frizzy brown hair. She looked familiar, but Harry wasn't sure where he'd seen her. He'd been too busy running for his life that first day of classes.
“Yup,” said Harry, fiddling with his laptop.
“You’re laptop won’t work here in Hogwarts,” she said. “Electronic devices don’t work in the grounds. It said so in Hogwarts, A History
“Seems to be working just fine,” Harry said, picking up a slice of pizza from a plate.
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
“Maybe you’re just wrong?”
“As soon as I got here, my walkman stopped working,” the girl said.
“Well that’s what you get for buying a piece of crap.”
Soon Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall walked by only to find a Hermione Granger kneeling on Harry’s back while attempting to strangle him.
“Minerva, it’s just like James and Lily all over again,” the headmaster said with a proud smile. Minerva McGonagall shook her head and mentally reminded herself to take a headache cure.
“You keep saying that like it is a good thing.”
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Harry survived meeting Hermione Granger for the first time and decided to watch a movie in the Gryffindor sitting room. He managed to find a bag of potato chips and some salsa in his bottomless trunk. Popping his laptop open , he loaded up an illegally downloaded movie and started watching.
“Hey, what’s this Harry?” asked one of the annoying twins. Harry couldn’t tell them apart, but that was mostly because he didn’t care enough. It was either Fred or George. The other twins were easier because they were in different houses.
“Rocky Horror Picture Show
,” Harry said. “It’s a classic.”
The twins sat down on either side of him, completely absorbed into the film.
“What’s that?” asked one of them.
“That’s a car,” Harry answered.
“Their car broke down so they want to use a phone to call for help,” Harry explained.
“Why are they singing about it?”
“Because it’s a musical.”
“What’s a musical?”
“A movie with songs built in.”
“Fred, George, shut up and watch the damn movie,” commanded Oliver Wood from behind them. Neither had noticed the older student walk in. As they laughed and were shocked by the paragon of modern cinema, more and more Gryffindors started filing in, interested in what the commotion was about. Soon the entire house was watching. A 7th year cast a spell to make the movie play on the large wall so everyone could see.
When the movie finally ended there was a series of thunderous applause that woke up the professors in the next tower.
“That was bloody brilliant,” said Fred.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Fred?” George asked.
“I think so George, but where are we going to get lacy lingerie at this hour?”
“To Filch’s desk!” They both said with wands up in the air in a dramatic manner.
Watching them run out of the common room, their younger brother Ron Weasley looked at Harry Potter as if he had just murdered a few hundred people. “By all that is holy, what have you done?”
Hermione just looked at the laptop with confusion. “Where’s it get its power?”
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Harry was on time for breakfast the next day. And it was a good thing he was. Fashionably late, Draco Malfoy walked into the room wearing a black cape. To the Slytherins’ horror, the pureblooded wizard started singing.“How do you do? I
See you met my,
He was just a little brought down,
Because when you knocked,
He thought you were the Candy Man.”
Jaws dropped as Draco Malfoy belted out the lyrics to “Sweet Transvestite.”
Complete with choreography. To everyone’s surprise, Fred and George took up the lines of Brad and Janet, making it clear that they were responsible. Harry was pretty impressed: Draco managed the role quite perfectly. Sure he was a little small for the particular pieces the Twins had picked out, but he sure could sing.
When the song finished the spell was clearly done and Draco got back his senses. He was stuck somewhere between horror, embarrassment and absolute outrage. It only got worse when the rest of the school started laughing at him. The pureblooded wizard was filled with rage, pure rage. Luckily for the Weasley Twins, he had nowhere to keep his wand on his state of dress.
Harry just clapped and asked for an encore. “Do you do bar mitzvahs?”
By the way, I don't own Rocky Horror Picture Show and I don't own Macbeth, but the Bard's been dead for a few hundred years, so I'm probably safe on that one. I also don't own anything else that might have possibly been hinted in this story.