Written for the Daily Prophet competition on the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition – Round 8/9

Prompts – We go back to basics with this weeks competition. Each of you will submit individually and the prompt is…

Crack!fics

That's right! We're asking you to write crack for us, no more than 500 words.

Seeker for the Wimebourne Wasps

Final word count: 499

Monday Mornings

Hogwarts was in a state of panic. Hufflepuff first years were crying their eyes out, Ravenclaws were calculating their chances of survival, Slytherins were writing desperate letters to their mommies, while Gryffindors were bracing themselves for what was to come.

The professors were trying to come up with plans to prevent the disaster. Save for Dumbledore. Dumbledore had taken one look at what was coming and fled. He may be the Leader of the Light and all around bad-ass wizard but he did have a sense of self-preservation, thank you very much. This was one situation where the motto 'One for all and all for one' didn't apply. It was more of a 'save yourself, if you can' and Dumbledore did just that.

The reason why Hogwarts was on the verge of a mental breakdown had just walked into the Great Hall with an enormous grin on his lips.

It was a known fact through Hogwarts that Harry wasn't a morning person, as in at all. Especially if the morning was on a Monday and followed by double potions. The professors had installed a rule after his first year that the older students were to warn all incoming first years for as long as Harry attended Hogwarts.

So, when Harry practically skipped into the Great Hall – with the biggest grin possible – on a Monday morning that was followed by double potions, everyone knew that the End was nigh.

Ron, being the courageous Gryffindor that he was, bit the bullet.

"Hey, mate."

If Harry noticed that Ron looked a bit green he didn't comment.

"Hi!"

The Hall flinched at the cheery tone.

"Why the good mood?" No one blamed Ron when his voice cracked at the end.

If possible Harry's grin grew and people crossed themselves.

"I had the most wonderful night!"

"Oh?" The unnaturally high pitch echoed in the Hall.

"Yes! I had a couple of drinks at Abe's. I had a drinking buddy for most of the night too. So, when we were far more drunk than was healthy for either of us I remembered that I had Fred and George's new prank sweets with me; you know the ones where half will turn you into an animal and only when you eat the other half will you be able to turn back? So, I dared my drinking buddy to try them out. The first one turned him into a goat. Abe thought I was stealing one of his beloved goats and kicked me out of the bar before herding the goat back to the others."

"Okay..."

"This morning I woke up with a horrible headache and my scar is hurting so much that I feel like my head will split open."

"Right..." Ron was starting to doubt his friend's sanity.

"And I had this wonderful vision of a goat corral."

Ron gaped, disbelief painting his features. Harry couldn't be insinuating what Ron thought he was.

"And we all know how much Abe loves his goats."