Dreams, Realities and Elves' shoes
**Disclaimer - all things recognised belong to JK Rowling. The plot however belongs to me and my friend. May she escape the men in white coats for many years to come.**~Dreams, Realities, and Elves’ shoes~
Once, twice and thrice upon a time there lived a small forest upon the edge of a hut. In this hut lived an ordinary man. But, in a contradictory fashion, he was not ACTUALLY an ordinary man. In fact only half of him was a man. The other half was… dun dun duuuuuhhhhhh… GIANT!
This half man, half giant was known as… Splunderchops! But this was only to his mother. The rest of the world called hiiiiim… ‘Hagrid, Keeper of the keys.’ His job was to… err… keep the keys, at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. He was somewhat of a hero there, and a pin-up guy for some of the Witches that attended the school. This was proved by the fact that on Valentine’s Day, he received 15 cards, and almost all of them weren’t from him! (Or his gay admirer- Gimli.)
One day, at breakfast in the castle, Harry, Ron and Hermione were breakfasting. They were talking merrily about elf shoes, and whether they were sexier with or without fluff on the toes (Harry thought with fluff, Ron thought without, and Hermione was being very diplomatic saying that perhaps fluff on only one toe was best.) Suddenly Hedwig floated graciously down to their table, furthermore extending a leg, presented her master the note from their outsized and hirsute friend (see paragraph above).
‘Hey look,’ cried Ron, ‘Your owl, Hedwig, has just presented you a note from our outsized and hirsute friend’
‘Undeniably,’ Hermione agreed, ‘bravo curriculum’
Harry blinked twice to keep the pixies out of the letter, before removing the letter from Hedwig’s extended leg and reading it……
‘To my three little minions, I have totally spiffing news, ahem, ahem. As you will not know, as I have never told you and the only other person who knows lives by the East Pole, and is unreachable by little, pixie feeted minions, so now, I will tell you. It has been my ambition for more years than it hasn’t been my ambition to join the circus. However, despite sending many applications to all of the 13.5 great circuses of the known, I have had no job offers and therefore I must turn to plan B. Plan B, as you also will not know, is to become a model, and this is were I would like to involve you in my plan. My plan, my great plan, is to travel to Pareeeeeee (which is how the Frenchish say Paris), the town of fashion, food and French people, and I would like you to come with me for support…’ (‘Oh dear,’ said Ron, ‘I hope he’s not talking literally.’) ‘…..Please meet me in my hut at wizarding hour and we shall depart.
Your outsized and hirsute friend,
‘Hey look,’ said Ron, ‘our outsized and hirsute friend, Hagrid, would have like to have been in the circus, but, because he cant be in the circus, he’s going to be a model, and because he’s going to be a model, he needs to go to Paris, and because he’s going to Paris and we are his little minions, we can go too. And, do you know what that means, huh? Huh? It means we’re going to Paris!’