Chapter 6:
An Odd Start of TermBecause the author finished his sophomore year of college yesterday, it is now time for another chapter of this parody to be written. Some people may think that someone who just finished his sophomore year of college is too old to write fan-fictions. Fortunately for the author, he doesn't much care.
Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Ron filed into the room in alphabetical order by favorite color. After that, Hermione began another of her strategic pre-writing session pep-talks.
"All right, here's what we're going to have to do," explained Hermione. "First off, we've been having plenty of typographical errors, but they've just about stopped being funny. Thus, we have to go out of our way to make sure that the typos are amusing, or else just give up on them. Also, we can't neglect grammatical errors. For instance, we've been having entirely too few sentence fragments, run-on sentences, unnecessary commas, and completely missing words. Thus, our story no longer accurately reflects the type of fanfiction that we're trying to make fun of."
"Hermione, are you angry at us?" asked Ron, apprehensively.
"No," explained Hermione. "I'm just disappointed."
"That's weird," noticed Ginny.
"So am I," confessed Hermione.
"But we all knew that," said Harry. "What we don't know is what we're going to do this chapter."
"Well…" said Hermione reluctantly. "I don't have the agenda… Crookshanks…"
"Wait… Crookshanks ate the agenda?" asked Ron, wondering if he might finally be about to like this cat.
"No, she actually crumpled it up and flushed it down the toilet," said Hermione.
"That's kind of cool," opined Ron.
"No," said Hermione sternly, "it's not."
"Oh, yeah," agreed Ron. "I had forgotten."
"Anyway…" continued Harry. "Do you remember anything that's supposed to happen this chapter?"
"Well," said Hermione. "One idea that seems to be being used a bit too much is the idea that Dumbledore's portrait will be a major character in this book, considering that apparently the plotd would not be able to move on without him. Another thing that people often like to do is to bring a long-lost granddaughter of Dumbledore into the story as a Mary-Sue."
"Ooh, maybe she could help Harry woo the whore-crushes!" suggested Ginny.
"That sounds like a decent idea," said Harry.
"Okay, and let's have the word of the chapter be 'lusty' as in 'come with me thou lusty gentlemen,' which is perhaps my favorite line in all of Shakespeare's works. Because apparently, I read Shakespeare sometimes," said Ginny.
"All right, then, let's start working on it," said Hermione, who was beginning to crave her next review-fix in a bad way. Even though the author is having a hard time imagining a good way in which to crave reviews. That's completely irrelevant. So is the fact that the author believes Ben and Jerry's cherry Garcia ice-cream is one of the seven greatest inventions of all time. But he still thought it was worth a mention. At any rate, the author seems to have lost his focus, and would advise the reader to retroactively ignore the last 3 lines or so and proceed to the next section, which has been written for your enjoyment. Oh, right. Ron was the one who wrote the beginning author's note.
Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I, Ronald Weasley, should in no way be confused with J.K. Rowling, a bowling ball, or a hamster. Neither should any of my three fellow authors. Nor should we be sent to prison, sued, or made to walk any form of a tight-rope. We would also never eat ice-cream for breakfast because that would be out of control.
Author's Note: The following chapter is going to include some themes which may not be suited for people lacking the moral character to know that just because people like Voldemort and Dumbledore had children out of wedlock does not mean that they should in turn go and get themselves impregnated. The following chapter is also not suitable for cabbage-patch kids, neo-pets, or toasters. Not that I imagine toasters have much time to read anyway. I fully, recognize that I have no idea what, one is supposed to actually type in an authors' note.
"That made very little sense," pointed out Ginny.
"So do you," said Ron.
"Okay, I'm going to write the next bit, if that's all right," said Ginny.
"Okay, and remember, try to make it good. We've got to try to get reviews," said Hermione.
"Can't we just write for our own satisfaction?" asked Ginny.
"But then how will we know whether we've written a good fanfiction?" asked Hermione.
"Why do we care whether we can write a good fanfiction?" asked Ginny.
"Because otherwise we can't get any reviews. And I don't care if that's circular logic," announced Hermione.
"Fine," said Ginny, rolling her eyes and beginning to type.
Transitionally, the story will now skip immediately to the sorting-ceremony. McGonagall brought the sorting hat into a lustily prominent place in the dining-hall. The sorting-hat began to sing:
"It's tough to be a sorting hat like me,
Oftentimes I think I'd rather be a tree,
But then I would not get to make stupid rhymes,
Warning students that they're about to enter tough times,
So let me use my powers of odd foreknowledge,
Which I got without having to go to college,
To tell you that some weird things must happen this year,
Which may cause some of you to tremble in fear.
This fate of the world relies on the dating-skills of the chosen-one,
Who I've heard is also James Potter's only son.
That I haven't mentioned the houses yet is something I realize,
But I hope that this will not cause you to despise,
For now I will mention that the whore-crush from Slytherin,
Will not be the type of person that Harry would find allurin'
But he will rather enjoy dating the one from Ravenclaw,
Who is pretty enough to make one's mouth open in awe.
Another, from the house of hardworking Hufflepuff,
Will be rather confused by some of the simplest stuff.
And of course, the whore-crush from Gryffindor,
Will never be able to make Harry's heart soar."
Then, the sorting hat stopped singing. The student body, except for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, was exceptionally confused. But then, they remembered that very little ever made sense at Hogwarts and that this fact was one that they had rather gotten used to.
The students were then sorted, which is not at all worth describing except to note that three of the children were named very oddly. One was called Big Joe's Discount Car Repair, another was named Jellybean Bunny, and the third was named King Louis The Fourteenth, although he had no relation to the former French monarch. We have reason to believe that the parents of these children were probably communists in the 1920s.
Then, McGonagall said, "I would now like to introduce the student body to your new headmaster, who will then allow the eating to start," said McGonagall lustily.
Ron applauded at the concept of eating.
McGonagall then removed the sheet that was covering a portrait which was occupying the headmaster's spot at the table. The portrait turned out to be the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, as it seems that a fair amount of fanfiction readers/writers believe this portrait to be, while not quite as great as Dumbledore himself, still a more capable wizard than about 99 of other wiserds.
The portrait of course had been conveniently festooned with, one, of Ginny's, lusty, discount, buttons. The button said, "Narcotic chipmunks make smarmy ducks nervous." McGonagall believed this to be inappropriate for a headmaster to wear, so she pressed the button so that it said "Antisocial Democrats sell for half price at Wal-Mart." McGonagall gave up.
"All right, well. I got my button into the chapter, so that's all I really needed to do. So… Harry, want a go?" asked Ginny.
"Sure," said Harry.
"Okay, now, Harry, if you remember from the last time we wrote a fanfiction, Dumbledore is pretty much not allowed to say anything coherent because it seems fanfiction writers are obliged to over-interpret Dumbledore's admittedly eccentric character to the point of utter incoherence. Wow, that was a long sentence," said Hermione.
Harry began to write.
Dumbledore began to speak, acting as if it were not at all odd that he was now addressing his student body through a portrait even though he was technically dead. The student body accepted this and decided that, on the whole, this was actually pretty normal by Dumbledore's standards. Why shoed something as muggly as death stop Dumbledore from leading Hogwarts?
"I have a few beginning of term announcements that you should be aware of before you eat. First of all: From this point forward, instead of headmaster, I would like to be referred to as the Thigh-master in honor of the new muggle exercise device which I have seen advertised on the telly and which looks downright spiffy. Further I would, like, everyone to know that the brussel-sprouts which will soon appear on the tables are forbidden for anyone to eat who is under their fourth year. They're not your average Brussels sprouts, and the younger students would be well- advised not you use them. Other than that, let's eat!"
So, they did. Of course, all the students, especially those between first and fourth years, immediately scarfed down some Brussels-sprouts. They caused the eater to realize that Snape and McGonagall had dated for a short time during the trio's second year, and that neither of their intentions had been quite puer. Several students threw-up, causing the Brussels-sprouts to be regurgitated and those lucky students who had thrown up to completely forget the knowledge they just gained. Since misery loves company, those students who still had the knowledge would have passed it on, except it wasn't the infourmayshin that they could bring themselves to say out loud.
After the feast during which Dumbledore's portrait curiously devoured an entire meatball sub and side of onion-rings Dumbledore continued to make his speech which for some reason contained virtually no sense and entirely too many interjections.
"Hooligans!" he began. "As you all know by now, the time has come for us all to face the fact that no one is safe at this school or anywhere else. That is why I have come back to protect you. For, as I mentioned in the second book, I have never truly left Hogwarts until there is no one here who can still do the Macarena. And, as we further know, McGonagall is a quite skilled Macarena-er. Bow-Splidgety! I would also like to take a moment to introduce you all to a new student who will joining you all this semester. She is the granddaughter of both myself and Voldemort. You see, what happened was that, back in my lustier days, I had certain relations of the type which it is not my job to tell you about with a woman who later turned out to be Severus Snape's daughter. (A time-turner was involved.) Grapes! As I was saying, this sacred union produced a son who's name was Cheerful Snape (the son kept his mother's name since I never owned up and actually married the mother. Ah, youth!) Cheerful would later grow up to marry Helen Riddle, the daughter of Voldemort and Fleur Delacour (this, of course, also must have somehow involved a time-turner, considering that in order for all this to work out, by the time Fleur Delacour was 3, her daughter must have been old enough to give birth to my grand-daughter, who is now 17 years old and has spent her childhood in America.) Jingle Bells!"
"That was… weird," stated Ron.
"Well, it wasn't supposed to make sense," stated Harry.
"Indeed. I suppose that I might as well describe the granddaughter for a bit before adding an author's note," said Hermione. So, she did.
Dumbledore's granddaughter walked into the room. She looked exactedly like Dumbledore, but prettier, with a nicer face, no gray-hair (it was actually magenta), and a much better body. So… basically, their eyes looked similar. Several boys immediately lusted lustily after her. She was automatically sorted into the Gryffindor House, mostly because everyone was afraid to allow the Sorting-Hat to talk again.
"Hi," said Dumbledore's granddaughter, once she had sat down next to Harry. "My name is Clarissa Lusty Dumbledore. My last name used to be Riddle, but I'm not mean like him, so I changed my last name to Dumbledore instead, because I'm cool like Dumbledore. I am a Mary-Sue, and am essential to the plot because I will allow the authors to throw in otherwise completely unjustifiable instances of American slang, and I will also improve Harry's game to the point where he can go out with all four whore-crushes within this year of school and still have enough time left over to kill Voldemort, win the Quidditch Cup, propose to Ginny, take his N.E.W.T.'s, and learn how to drive a car in all fifty states while under the influence of a calculator. It's gonna be a blast!"
A/N: And perhaps it will be. We'll have to wait until next chapter to find out. I'm not really sure whether or not this chapter actually justifies reviews, considering that I've been too busy during most of the past hour making grilled cheese to pay much attention, but I do hope that we'll get some reviews anyway. But, at the moment, I'm off to eat some grild cheese. So, farewell fair reader, fare the well!
A/N: Hmmm… Once again, this chapter may well be completely stupid. I'll read over it once, see if I can deal with putting it up, and then put it up if I don't feel that doing so would compromise whatever reputation I may have acquired as a somewhat witty parody-writer.