Harry was so stressed out. It was his fifth year, and Umbridge was ruining his life with these detentions and he had nothing to look forward to. No Hagrid, Quidditch, evenings free of pain and blood.

His bed was warm, and although Harry didn't want to dream of the elusive locked door, he succumbed to sleep.

Oddly, he had no unsettling images that night. He did have a peculiar picture in his mind, however, of a capital T and a lowercase t leaning on it.

Harry woke up before everybody else in his dormitory, but it hardly mattered – as soon as he awoke, he screamed.

The dormitory had...changed. It was brightly colored. And plastic. Harry leaped out of bed and stared at his roommates. They were different too, with square, fat heads and bodies in the same fashion.

"Ron!" Harry yelled, and grabbed his foot, which was the same texture as everything else in the room. Thankfully, Harry was still human.

Ron stared at him unblinkingly, then said, "Uh?"

"Ron, what's going on?" Harry demanded, panic in his voice.

Ron nodded. "Eh."

"Talk to me!" Harry yelled, and turned to Dean, who was now a big, brown, blockhead. "Dean!"

Dean turned his head to Ron and said, "Myeh?"

Ron twiddled a hand that was shaped like a C around his head, making the international cuckoo sign, and he and Dean giggled.

Harry screamed in frustration. Why where there so many gold coins hovering above the ground, why were his friends and surroundings plastic, and why weren't they talking.

Losing his head completely, Harry ran out the (plastic) door and into the (plastic) Common Room.

It was everywhere! What had happened? He tried to run down the staircase, but he tripped on a hovering trail of coins and tumbled into a plastic girl. Although her head was block-shaped, her body square, Harry recognized the freckles and the ginger hair.

"Ginny!" he cried in horror.

Ginny's head turned pink. "Eh-eh!" she offered in greeting.

"Ginny," Harry felt his eyes sting. "What is going on here?"

Ginny nodded knowingly. "Ah! Uh. Uah – " she waved her hands exuberantly. "Uah – hya!"

Then Harry felt something odd happen to his leg. It was starting to cramp up. He bent over and examined it, and watched in horror as it became a black, rectangular piece of plastic. Then his other leg. His torso, his chest. His face! It swelled out.

Harry tripped on a floating coin. "Auoo!" he cried out. When he heard himself, he realized that he'd become a plastic figure incapable of speech.

Harry sank into a depression from which he never recovered.

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