This is:
Kirstie_McGonagall's Dare:
• McGonagall enters the 100 drabble challenge.
• Someone must say ' No way. I thought Chicken's had 4 legs!'
• The Following items must be mentioned : an icecream cone, 3 glass marbles, a monkey and Emma Watson
• Lily comes back as a zombie.
• and finally, someone steals Harry's glasses.

My 1st Fan Fic on the EEFFD....Here goes nothing.

Emma Watson was tired after a long day of shooting the 5th Harry Potter movie. Between the tutoring required for her school work and the endless takes of a particular scene over and over that day, she was nearing exhaustion. After a cursory “hi” to her parents when she arrived home, she headed upstairs to her room for the evening, leaving her mum and dad behind to exchange knowing nods.

She briefly toyed with the idea of turning on her new personal computer for some net surfing. She smiled to herself that one of the benefits of being a young, successful actress was being able to afford such a lovely computer for herself. Emma had, just for some fun, recently started surfing some of the Harry Potter sites and was often amused at the spread of rumours about all things Harry Potter. She would have loved to have signed on and let people know what was really happening behind the scenes, but she knew that it would open a very large can of worms if she did, especially with fans who couldn’t distinguish between Emma herself and her Hermione persona.

Some of the fans were very enthusiastic and loyal, but a few immersed themselves into the Harry Potter world a little too far for Emma’s liking. She saw that some took on character’s names and personalities with a gusto bordering on obsessive, such as the young lady who used the name “Professor McGonagal” and wrote thousands of posts in everything from chat rooms about the plot of the forthcoming 7th HP book, to something called a “100 word Drabble challenge”, whatever the heck that was. Plus, Emma didn’t always like what she saw on the internet. Only last week, she stumbled across an on-line video game where the nice Harry Potter characters were being cursed to death by evil dark wizards. In one scene, she watched with distaste as a computerised Lily Potter was zapped by a green curse and then reanimated as a Zombie, only to be blasted and destroyed again. Emma thought this was gross and decided to limit her web surfing in future. But for now, she was too tired to surf anyhow. She lay down on her bed and dozed off almost immediately, her head swirling with thoughts bout Harry Potter fans and reanimated zombies.

Later that evening, Emma was woken by a scratching sound at her bedroom window. She woke with a start, and looked around tiredly, rubbing the confusion from her eyes. She was surprised to find that she was still fully dressed, but then quickly remembered that she had flaked out on her bed without changing. Emma looked over towards the window where the noise was coming from. A breeze had sprung up outside and a dead branch was dragging itself across the window like the clawed hands of an old crone. Maybe that’s what my own witches’ hands will look like in 80 years from now she thought to herself. She leaned over to the curtains to draw them closed and to her astonishment, could have sworn that she saw Daniel Radcliffe walking by in the street below. Quickly, she rushed downstairs and to her front door, thinking that her friend and fellow actor was paying her a late night visit. Emma poked her eye up to the peephole just in time to see Daniel walk straight by. She quickly opened the door, slipped outside and ran down the path to join him on the footpath.

“Daniel” she hissed in the loudest whisper possible, not wishing to wake anyone in the neighbourhood up. Several paces in front of her, the figure turned around.

“Hermione?” he said. “What are you doing here ?”.

“Very funny Dan. I was going to ask you the same” Emma replied.

“Who’s Dan ?” Harry responded, “And does McGonagal know that you’re away from Hogwarts too?”

“Hogwarts? What on earth are you talking about Dan ? I live here” she said, gesturing to the house behind her.

“10 Grimmauld Place ? Why on earth would your parents buy next door to the Order of the Phoenix and just when did this happen?” Harry asked, the puzzlement evident in his voice.

“Are you OK Dan?” Emma said, not quite knowing what was going on. She was starting to feel genuine concern for her friend though.

“Sure, I just had to pop out and get Mad Eye some Haagen Daz” he said, gesturing to the icecream cone in his left hand. “He usually tries to conjure it himself, but it just doesn’t taste the same. Look, we’d better go inside before we both get into trouble.” And with that, Harry closed his eyes in concentration. Before an astonished Emma Watson, a house suddenly appeared before them, with a battered old number 12 hanging from the front door. This was too much. Emma stood there shaking her head until Harry grabbed her by the arm and led her inside.

“Shhhhh,” Harry hissed as they tiptoed through the entrance”.

“What and I suppose that some portrait is going to start screaming at us like in the movie” Emma said with her hands on her hips.

“FILTH ! INTRUDERS ! How dare a dirty mudblood desecrates our noble home” shrieked the now awake portrait of Sirius Black’s mother.

“Come on!” yelled Harry over the din, as he pulled a startled Emma away from the screaming portrait and down the hall, towards the large dining area.

Remus Lupin appeared at the dining room door as the duo scampered into relative safety and comfort. “Ha! Been causing trouble again you two ?” Lupin said with a grin. “Go on now, I’ll see to dear old Mrs Black.”

Harry and Emma looked around and found several other guests of the Order in the dining room. Mad Eye was there with Arthur Weasley, conferring in whispered tones. Tonks was there too, but her concentration was on the retreating form of Lupin and she only gave a most cursory nod at Harry and Emma. In the far corner of the long dining table, Mugdungus Fletcher sat alone, suspiciously eyeing off the silverware.

“Hello Harry and Hermione” beamed Mr Weasley. “We were expecting you Harry, but I didn’t know that you were skipping school too Hermione. That’s not like you at all”.

“This isn’t funny anymore guys.” replied Emma. “I’ve had a long day and I’m tired. I don’t know how you made the house appear and yes, it was very clever, but I have to be up early for a film shoot tomorrow”.

“Shooting ? Are you talking about shooting with one of those muggle gums then, are you ?” asked Arthur Weasley rather excitedly. “Interesting concept for a weapon, but of course, any wizard worth their weight in dragon droppings would be able to turn one of those bullocks they shoot into a harmless flower with a flick of the wand.”

They were suddenly interrupted by Mad Eye Moody’s loud swearing. He had dropped a marble off the dining table and bent over awkwardly to pick it up. Recovering quickly, he placed it with the other two marbles on the table.

“Mad Eye’s finally worn out his original glass eye” cackled Mung “and he has to replace it with one of those three glass marbles. Which one do you like best ?”

To Emma’s horror, Mad Eye popped out the brilliant blue eye from his empty socket and tried placing one of the green cat’s eye marbles in it place. It whirred around at high speed before squarely focussing on Emma’s stunned face.

“Damn thing” growled Moody “Everything’s green when I look through this one. That’s fine if you’re a stinkin’ Irish quidditch fan but it’s not very bloody good for killing Death Eaters now, is it?”

“Ummmm” was all that Emma could get out of her constricted throat before Mrs Weasley joined the group, Lupin in tow behind her. Molly had cooked a fine dinner and was magically floating it over to the long dining table from the kitchen.

“What’s on the menu tonight love?” asked a ravenous looking Mungdungus.

“Roast Chicken!” beamed a proud Mrs Weasley, who directed the cooked bird onto the table in pride of place.

Emma Watson looked sickly at the bird. “I thought chickens were only supposed to have two legs” she said, looking at a bird which clearly looked more like an octopus that a bird.

“No way, I thought Chickens had four legs!” exclaimed Tonks, who had snuggled up close next to Lupin on the other side of the table. “But whenever Molly here cooks, she always makes sure that there are enough drumsticks to go around. How many tonight Molly?

“Eight dear, it’s just a minor charm you know. It doesn’t take much practice, so if you want to learn a bit more about working around the kitchen, I’d be happy to show you.” replied Molly sweetly. Tonks blushed furiously as Lupin gave her a friendly elbow in the ribs.

Dammit !” exclaimed Mad Eye, who was trying out another of the marbles for his vacant eye socket. “Here lad, give ’em to me” he said as he rudely snatched Harry’s glasses off his face and tried to peer through the lens to see if that improved his vision.

“Hey, give them back, you’ll stretch the frames” Harry exclaimed, reaching out and reclaiming his property from straight off Mad Eye’s face.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go” said a pale looking Emma Watson. She stood up and bolted for the door, leaving several puzzled wizards in her wake. Emma raced down the hallway, past the evil looking painting of Mrs Black and out of the door. She stopped at the front gate and turned back, just in time to see the house at number 12 magically shrink and disappear from view. Shaking her head, Emma made her way back inside her own house, tip toed up the stairs and fell into her bed in shock. She looked around her bed and sought solace from her stuffed toys. Her childhood teddy bears, puppies and her favourite stuffed monkey all stared back at her silently.

“I must be going mad” she said out loud to the toys.

“I would probably agree with that” said her toy monkey in response. And Emma fainted.

The next morning, Emma woke up and rationalized that she must have been dreaming. The toy monkey and the other stuffed animals merely stared ahead in stoic silence. Over breakfast, she didn’t tell her parents about her late night adventure and decided to keep the tale from her co-stars when she arrived on set.

The morning was filled with schoolwork as usual and Emma struggled not to keep looking sideways over to Daniel. They eventually broke for lunch before recommencing the film shooting in the afternoon. As Dan and Emma headed towards the cafeteria, Dan turned and said “What are you having today Emma?”

“Oh thank goodness” she replied, turning and hugging Dan with relief. “I thought I was going mad for a while there”.

“No problem” he replied, opening a lunchbox from his packpack. “If you want, I’ll share my chicken legs with you. There are still plenty left over from last night’s dinner at Grimmauld Place.”

And Emma fainted again.

Durro
(Please feel free to leave comments/suggestions about this or any of my other EEFFD's. Thanks!)

evlpez's dare:
1. Snape enters a Potion-Inventing contest.
2. Sirius Black's ghost visits to help
3. The trio make up a tap dance routine. Tell us why.
4. Someone goes for take-out.
5. The following must be mentioned: A radio, a cup of coffee, a cat and mouse game, the Woolongong Warriors


The trio, Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the great hall together for their lunch. It was filled with chattering students and a great feast prepared by the Hogwarts' house elves. Looking for somewhere to edge in, they spied a large gap near a sullen looking Seamus, who was brooding over his lukewarm cup of coffee and half eaten lunch.

“Hey Seamus, what’s up?” asked Harry, as he slid in next to his friend from Gryffindor.

“And why are you wearing that scarf ?” demanded Hermione, in her usual officious manner. “That is clearly not conforming to school dress standards and as a Prefect, it is my duty…”

“Oh lay off him Hermione” grumped Ron who was reaching for his own coffee on the other side of the table. “Just because we’re Prefects, it doesn’t mean that we have to be complete prats you know. As if I didn’t have enough enemies as it was” sighed Ron.

“It’s my Woolongong Warriors scarf. I’m wearing it to remind me of the outside world.” replied Seamus.

“And what is wrong with Hogwarts ?” demanded Hermione, who clearly didn’t realise that Seamus was, at this moment, homesick.

“My radio and my MP3 players don’t work inside Hogwarts, so I can’t listen to my music. And it’s this.” said Seamus, gesturing around him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, having a three course feast every meal is nice, but I just miss real food, you know?”

“Whaddaya mun rull fud?” asked Ron, gaining a disapproving stare from Hermione for daring to speak with his mouth full.

“What he means Ron is that in the muggle world, there are restaurants and take away places that sell all sorts of food, a lot of which is bad for you, but really tasty. Muggle borns and half bloods who live outside the wizard world when they’re young are usually exposed to that sort of food” Harry explained to his friend. “Even I get cravings now and then” Harry admitted.

“Tell me about it” moaned Seamus. “You know, what I could really go for right about now is a Blubber Burger.”

“A what?” asked Ron, wiping away food from the edge of his mouth with his sleeve and studiously ignoring Hermione who was rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“A Blubber Burger. It’s from that new Japanese fast food chain Geisha Goodies that sells all sorts of oriental stuff. Their Blubber Burger is whale meat, lettuce and mayonnaise on a sesame seed bun” said Harry. “Each burger contains 78 grams of fat and comes with a free Heart Attack. I mean, French fries”.

“Oh, that’s it! I’m going for take out” said Seamus with a look of resolve on his face. And with that, he got up and stormed off towards the gates of Hogwarts.

“He won’t get very far you know” said Hermione. “The gates are magically locked and can only be opened by a teacher.”

“Yes, but let’s not deny him hope” replied Harry.

“Potter ! Weasley ! Granger.”

Harry jumped in his seat as a hand came down on his shoulder.

“Lost another friend have we?” That type of sarcastic comment could only come from one person - Severus Snape was standing over Harry and Hermione and glaring over at Ron on the other side of the table.

“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you….Professor” retorted Harry, while Hermione clearly cringed and Ron shot pumpkin juice out of his nose as he gagged.

“10 points from Gryffindor for impertinence Potter. 10 points each that is.” snarled Snape.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione’s sharp jab in the ribs warned him not to take on Snape.

“Can we help you with something Professor Snape?” asked Hermione, the edge in her voice clear to all.

“Actually you can. I have entered a potion making contest, and I would like to use three volunteers to test it for me. Any guesses on who I’ve got in mind?” sneered Snape.

“But you can’t try out potions on students ! He can’t do that, can he ?” Ron blurted out.

A clearly worried Ron turned to Hermione for guidance, who shrugged her shoulders in reply. Her eyes met Harry’s, her own fear and suspicion mirrored in his eyes.

“Actually, I can. Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to conduct a controlled experiment. I promise that nobody will get hurt….if it works properly that is. And Madame Pomfrey is available to cure any accidental….um…. poisonings.” chuckled Snape with an evil glint in his eye.

Snape bent over and poured a few drops of a clear liquid into the trio’s pumpkin juice.

“Bottoms up!” exclaimed Snape. The trio reluctantly reached for their drinks and with a supreme effort not to gag, each drank from their potion tainted juice. Harry immediately looked around at Ron and Hermione. Both seemed fine and there were no obvious changes to their appearance.

“Still breathing!” said Ron with more cheer than he actually felt. “I wonder if it actually worked. What do you think it was meant to do?”

“Dance for me. Get up on the table and do a tap dance” intoned Snape.

The trio suddenly bolted up from their places, climbed up on the dining table in the middle of the great hall, and started tap dancing. Their classmates looked on in astonishment whilst Professor Snape merely folded his arms across his chest and smirked.

Clickety click, shuffle shuffle, clickity click “I can’t stop” clickity click, turn “can’t….control” said Harry.

Tap tap, clickety click “ must….stop” clickity click, tap tap, went a grimacing Ron.

Hermione’s feet blurred as she did a series of wings and crossovers, before doing a backflip off the table and landing with her arms outstretched and yelling “Tah Dah!” before starting her tapping again.

All around the hall, the other students were laughing and pointing at the trio. Malfoy in particular was most amused, and as he took his place next to Snape, he and his Slytherin cronies took turns in hurling insults and jeering at the dance technique of the trio.

“It’s a liquid version of the Imperius curse” said Snape to his Slytherin charges. “Of course, it would be illegal to use it outside of these walls, but for teaching purposes, it is acceptable. It took me weeks to brew it, and I think that mastering such a complex potion will earn me high points in the contest, don’t you agree ?”

The Slytherins of course agreed wholeheartedly, and stayed for the floorshow for half an hour, until the effects of the potion wore off and the exhausted trio slumped down onto their bench seats at last. They hung their heads in shame as the echoes of laughter rang out around the hall.

Later that evening, Harry tossed and turned in his bed. He was absolutely furious and it took him ages to finally drift off. Once asleep, Harry’s slumber was filled with dreams of evil deeds that Snape could make him do under the influence of the imperius potion. Harry flipped and ground his teeth in his sleep, and occasionally muttered words too rude to repeat.

It was at about 3am though that Harry’s dreams turned to something else. The ghost of Sirius Black drifted into the Gryffindor common room and sat on the end of Harry’s bed. Harry’s eyes opened with a start. He rubbed them in confusion and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Still sitting there was his Godfather.

“Sirius? I must be dreaming” yawned Harry, keeping his voice low so as to not wake his snoring companions in the beds next to his.

The ghost of Sirius replied, “Be that as it may Harry, I am here to help you. It doesn’t matter if you think that this is real or a dream. What is important are my words, and so heed them.”

“OK” said Harry.

“It's about Severus Snape. I saw from the other side what he did to you and I know how you can get back at him. Now listen closely….” and Sirius leaned towards Harry, whispering instructions in a conspiratorial manner.

The next morning, Harry woke up with a smile on his face.

“What’s gotten into you?” said a clearly less than happy Ron. “I thought that you’d still be peeved at yesterday’s performance”.

“Ron, it’s a beautiful day and I have a plan to make it even better” beamed Harry. Harry brushed past Ron and took something from Ron’s trunk. “I’ll get this back to you later today”.

Ron shook his head in puzzlement and the two trudged off towards the boys’ bathroom for their morning rituals.

Later that morning, Ron and Harry joined Hermione for breakfast. The great hall was filled to capacity and the trio had to endure many taunts from sniggering students. Finally, Snape himself made a dramatic entrance into the great hall with a great swirl and swishing of his cape and an unpleasant grin plastered on his face. He advanced towards the trio, his beady eyes focussed on them. It was an unpleasant surprise to Snape then when he noticed Harry look up from his drink and smile back brightly at him.

“Potter” spat Snape as her approached them. “Why the happy face, or are you just too stupid to realise how embarrassing you were yesterday?”

“No sir,” replied Harry respectfully. “It’s just that I would like the opportunity to even the slate with a game of observation and deduction.”

“I see that our cat and mouse games continue Potter. Well then, what is it you would have me participate in?”

“Simple sir. If I may, here are three glasses of pumpkin juice. What I propose is, I add your potion to one of the cups and then shuffle them around on the table in a kind of shell game. You get to choose which cup I drink from and I then get to choose from the remaining two which one you drink. Sound fair ?”

“Sounds….childish Potter. Are you really that simple that you would challenge me with such a feeble feat ?” replied Snape.

“Well, if you’re too scared sir, I understand” said Harry bluntly.

Don’t….call….me…scared” threatened Snape, the tone of his voice taking on an icy aspect. Around them, a large crowd of students had gathered in eager anticipation of the showdown. Snape looked around and saw that he was trapped. “Alright then Potter, let’s do it.”

“If I may sir” asked Harry, his hand out for the vial of potion. Before the assembled audience, Harry lined up three glasses of pumpkin juice. He then opened the vial and tipped the contents into the middle glass. Harry handed the vial back and then moved the three glasses around on the table top. He switched them left to right, right to left and back again. Snape’s hawk-like eyes didn’t leave the glass with the potion in it for one solitary second. After several more manoeuvres, Harry finally stopped shuffling the glasses.

“Ha !” said a triumphant Snape. “That’s all too simple Potter. Frankly, I expected more of you” and with that, chose the left hand glass, which had obviously been the original middle glass with the potion in it.

Harry lifted the nominated glass to his lips and drank deeply from it. Harry then indicated the right hand glass, and as agreed, Snape drank from it, draining it in 3 swallows.

“So Potter, what shall it be then?” sneered Snape. “Cluck like a chicken for the rest of the day perhaps ? Do it then, bird brain”.

“I don’t think so," the crowd gasped as Harry calmly spoke, clearly not affected by the potion. "For you, a stripdance would be in order though sir. Up on the table now and get it off.” responded Harry and before a stunned audience, Professor Severus Snape climbed up onto the middle of the dining table in the great hall and started grinding his hips and peeling off his robes in time to inaudible music.

“how….did…you…” grimaced Snape, as he peeled off his robe and threw it at some screaming 2nd year girls.

“Simple” replied Harry. “I saved the pumpkin juice from yesterday. All of the glasses today had your imperius potion in it. We both had no choice really, but to both drink the potion.”

“but….you…..must….have.…” gasped Snape, as he rubbed his Slytherin scarf down his back and then tossed it into the cheering crowd.

“Been affected too? It was you sir who helped me. That, and some advice from an old friend late last night. Do you remember telling us in 1st year that a bezoar thrown down someone’s throat can save them from most poisons ? I simply borrowed Ron’s bezoar and swallowed it as I saw you arrive this morning. It protected me from your potion, which, as a type of unforgivable curse is classified as a poison of sorts.”

Snape continued to bump and gyrate to the chants and claps of the students, throwing his Slytherin scarf into the mosh pit that had formed around him.

“And sir” smirked Harry, “with those skinny, pasty white legs, I’d be careful who I called chicken boy from now on. Now keep going. I want the full monty”.

The students all laughed and cheered as the helpless Snape continued his strip dance. To thunderous applause, the trio stood up and high-fived each other. As several other teachers hurried in to see what all of the commotion was about, the trio turned their back on Snape, linked arms and strode triumphantly out of the great hall and into Hogwarts legend forever.

Durro
(Please feel free to leave comments/suggestions about this or any of my other EEFFD's. Thanks!)

Oh my gosh! Well done, Durro! Welcome, officially, to the Evil Elite!

Your blood oath papers are in the owl post.

Go forth, be evil and dare!

May I reply? I hope I can. As a new visitor to the forums - this is officially the first dare I read - and I really like this!

Congratulations! You've made me snort out loud at work in front of my co-workers! I absolutely love the payback....full monty! Brilliant! And nicely written, too! Ah - it's nice to see proper grammar and spelling in something so fun!

(Evl - I'm probably never going to leave the fic section! Yay! I love this!)

Josage

Hahah hilarious Dares Durro!

Welcome to the EEFFD!

Thanks for the kind words and welcome guys.

Let's hope that a few more people join in the fun, as some of the old EEFFD's were great. I hope that this will be a more active group in the future.

I'm currently thinking about issuing a dare of my own, but I'll wait until the deadline for Evlpez's current dare expires and see what she comes up with next first.

Cheers

Durro

Hey Durro!! These are really good I like the 2nd one *giggles* it's real good keep it up!

Yes, I have really completed my own dare. I have to confess though that I had already written a similar story on another Snitchseeker thread, and so this challenge only involved some tweaking and editing to fit the current criteria. However, you guys are a new audience and hopefully will enjoy this one. I look forward to reading what others might write too.

To refresh your memory, the challenge was :-

* Someone thinks they're going mad
* A Muggle is invited to Hogwarts as a special guest. Explain the circumstances behind this.
* Hagrid must say "better out than in, as I always say"
* Peeves does something dreadful
* The following must be incorporated seamlessly into the storyline -
1. An embarrasing photo of someone 2. a battleaxe 3. a leprechaun 4. A persian rug

Durro's Inaugural Dare

The head of the new Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland was spinning – he was having difficulty taking in his surrounds as he stood before the grand double doorways of Hogwarts Castle, surrounded by witches and wizards. It seemed surreal and sadly diminished now that only weeks earlier he had won the election, having done an admirable job of convincing the electorate that he was significantly less corrupt, devious and power hungry than the incumbent in the job. This of course was pure rubbish, but for many disgruntled voters, a change was almost as good as a holiday, and so the new PM had body surfed a veritable landslide victory straight into the most powerful office in the land.

On the day of the transition to office, he had smugly watched the removalists take away the former PM’s belongings and his predecessor’s hopes and dreams with it. Later on in the day, the new PM had stood at the doorway to number 10 Downing Street, posing for the cameras with the outgoing PM for the official handover. Each shook the other’s hand, secretly squeezing as hard as he could and trying not to grimace in pain in front of the flashing bulbs of the media’s cameras.

The new PM leaned over and whispered “winners are grinners” as he released his iron death grip and smiled and waved to the assembled media.

The outgoing PM stared back with sad eyes and curiously replied “watch out for the fireplace” before slinking off to write his memoirs and earn twenty times his annual civil service salary on the lecture circuit.

And so it was that evening that the new Prime Minister had found himself alone at last in the office of Number 10. He had endured a full day of speeches and briefings, and was glad to be by himself to breathe in the trappings of power. Portraits of previous PMs stared back at him in resolute silence as the new Prime Minister sat down in the comfortable padded chair behind the desk and placed his feet up on its exquisite mahogany surface. His mind drifted back to a briefing earlier in the day about the chain of command for use of the royal fleet’s nuclear submarines, given by a stern looking Ministry of Defence officer. He had spent much of the time imagining that the Admiral was briefing him about the top-secret existence of the Loss Ness Monster rather than those great underwater vessels of war. Chuckling to himself at the memory, he then fantasized that the red button located strategically under his new desk was the nuke button for the subs and that he could send megatons of radioactive death hurtling towards his enemies, most of whom in all reality were now drowning their sorrows over a pint at the local and planning revenge for the next election. Sadly for the PM, but luckily for the opposition members of parliament and the towns that they lived in, the red button was merely a security device to summon armed guards should the PM ever feel threatened by the Ambassador from Swaziland or some other such visitor to his office.

He was taken quite by surprise then when the unlit fireplace in the corner of his office suddenly exploded into a mass of green coloured flames. A great cloud of smoke and ash burst forth and from within the crackling flames appeared an oddly dressed red headed man. Seemingly unfazed by the flames, the man stepped forward and brushed glowing embers off his sleeves onto a priceless persian rug, which started smoldering ominously. The man cheerfully stuck out his hand towards the PM and enthusiastically introduced himself as Arthur Weasley, the new Undersecretary for Muggle Relations within the Ministry of Magic. The slack jawed PM merely stared at this strange apparition, who had dropped his proffered hand and started pacing around the room, picking up various items such as the PM’s telephone and kettle and exclaiming “fascinating” and “absolutely marvellous” as he inspected each item, seemingly as though it was the first time he had ever seen these marvels of technology.

“Errrrm. Can I help you?” the PM had squeaked, struggling to clear the lump in his throat which threatened to choke him.

“I am here to deliver your official Ministry of Magic Briefing” said Mr Weasley, turning back to the PM. “First time for me. New job, you see, but I expect that we’re in the same boat on that. Just so you know, as a show of respect to the leader of all British muggles – that’s what we call you non-magic folk - each new Prime Minister is told about the world of magic after they take office. It helps to understand what’s really going on in the world you know. You see, it all has a long history, going back to….”

The PM tried to make sense of what was being said as the red headed man told his tale. His mind raced but struggled to believe the revelation of the apparent existence of a completely parallel world of magic, wizards and monsters, unseen by the day to day population of ordinary humans. The PM suddenly remembered his predecessor’s strange warning about the fireplace, distracting him as the red headed man was explaining about a dark wizard that was responsible for many deaths and the war that had raged within the world of magic a several years earlier. The war had apparently spilled over into muggle existence and caused several inexplicable disasters, all of which were officially deemed to be accidents by the previous administration.

As the intruder went on, the PM suddenly realised that this must be some sort of initiation, a right of passage if you will. Surely a group of civil servants were waiting outside to burst into the office and shout “got you!” That must have been what the former PM had meant – that there was an initiation rite to pass through. The PM craned his neck and looked around the office for hidden cameras and it was only when the Weasley fellow waved his wand and levitated a pot of tea over to the desk and cordially offered to pour him a cup, that the suddenly pale faced PM realised that this was no joke. No indeed, it was no joke at all.

Mr Weasley affably sipped his cup of tea and went on to invite the Prime Minister to the opening of the new school year at a school curiously named Hogwarts, wherever the blazes that was. The Weasley fellow said that the previous PM had forged sound relationships with the magical world and that an invitation to be the guest of honour at the Hogwarts’ opening ceremony would be a fine way to "smash the ice", as he erroneously had put it.

Clearly in the presence of a madman, or something much worse, the PM pressed the emergency buzzer hidden under his desk. From just nearby, a group of heavily armed police and security personnel took off at a run towards the PM’s office, sharing grim looks with each other. At the sound of the footsteps coming closer to the door, Mr Weasley simply pointed his wand at the door, muttered something like "colour porpoise" and said in a cheerful voice, "I see that you are about to have some more guests, but they are not to be privy to our conversation. They wouldn’t understand you see. Now, if you could kindly report to Kings Cross Station no later than 9:45 on Sunday morning at platform 9 3/4, I will arrange for an escort onto the Hogwart's Express for your trip to the school."

and with that, he threw some dust into the fireplace which again turned a bright shade of emerald green. Then, without any fear of injury to himself, he walked directly into the fire before spinning crazily and then simply disappearing in a loud pop.

The bewildered PM was left alone in the room while a dozen or more protective service officers pounded on the door and tried in vain to access the office, which was magically sealed. As the smouldering crackled into a fully fledged fire and took a serious hold on the persian rug, the office’s sprinkler system activated, drenching the PM and the contents of his office. It was an inauspicious start to the PM’s career that the papers the next day all carried an embarrassing photo of a very damp PM inexplicably climbing out of his office window, a thin wisp of smoke trailing behind. Follow up shots showed him walking up the alleyway to knock on the door of number 10 to be let in by a small knot of worried looking security men.

Following that fateful meeting, the PM had agonised over his own sanity for days. Surely, he must have been giddy with the adrenaline of the moment or perhaps just a little too tipsy on victory champagne. Sure, they still couldn’t get his office door open and they had to cut a new hole in the wall to gain access, but really, there must be a rational explanation for it all. After some deep soul searching, the Prime Minister had made a surreptitious phone call to the previous PM who had obviously had dealings with the magic world. The former PM not only didn't laugh out loud but strongly suggested in the most serious of tones that the current PM take up the offer for fear of offending powers that are beyond this mortal realm. It was then that the incumbent decided to accept the strange invitation to Hogwarts.

The PM had arranged to go to the train station at the appointed time, explaining to his staff and security minders that he wanted to observe the efficiencies of British Rail firsthand. Although the PM had been acting strangely since taking office, they shrugged their shoulders and agreed to this first outing after taking up the reins of power. The security people made their advance preparations and highly trained SAS personnel and bomb sniffer dogs ensured that no threats were posed to their leader. The PM was loosely surrounded by security people as he strode purposefully through the station at Kings Cross, occasionally waving back to constituents who had waved to him in admiration. Of course, following the dictum that you can please some of the people some of the time, there were those in the station who fired off rude finger signs at the PM too, some due to their political leanings and some merely because of the inconvenience of missing their train due to the increased security precautions.

As the PM walked between platforms nine and ten however, he was suddenly surrounded by a gaggle of oddly dressed red headed people, including a person the PM instantly recognised as the man who had invaded his office from within the fireplace a few nights earlier. To almost everyone’s surprise, not the least the PM’s security men, a great explosion of fireworks inside the train station gained everyone’s attention momentarily, long enough for the PM to be unceremoniously pushed through the magic portal between platforms 9 and 10 and onto platform 9 ¾, disappearing from all muggle view. The PM scrambled to his feet and looked around, seeing a great steam locomotive and a gaggle of school students. Mr Weasley took him by the arm and led the PM onto the train, explaining that a muggle couldn’t be side-along apparated to Hogwarts for fear of arriving at the other end turned inside out, which clearly wouldn’t be satisfactory for anyone.

Barely over the shock of falling through a solid brick wall and materializing in another realm, the ride on the Hogwart’s Express was no less unnerving for the poor PM. He was surrounded by members of the Weasley family who grilled him about muggle existence and particularly about the uses for “eleck-trickyness” and “felletones”. They also unthinkingly performed acts of astounding magic as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. For example, the PM was graciously offered a chocolate frog which he reluctantly accepted mostly out of fear of offending his hosts, but which then nearly caused him to have a coronary attack when it leaped out of its box and onto his lap. The PM had hit his head quite hard on the overhead baggage racks when he leaped out of his seat and frantically tried to shoo the frog away, and he had spent the remainder of the journey blissfully unconscious.

When the train had arrived at its final destination, the PM had regained consciousness only to look eye to eye at a hairy giant of a man who was bent down over his supine form. Hagrid gruffly introduced himself and suggested that the PM might better enjoy the ride to the decrepit old ruin of a castle in the distance in the boats without oars, rather than in the carriages drawn by the invisible vampiric horses which after all might get stirred up by the coppery odour of the blood that had streamed from the PM’s cut head. A shellshocked PM hastily agreed and battled his nerves and a case of seasickness as the boats glided across the dark lake towards the ruined castle in the distance. Matters were made worse when he leaned over the side of the boat to "feed the fish" as it were, with a spasm of stomach convulsions.

From the bow of the boat, Hagrid turned to the retching PM and chuckled “better out than in as I always say”.

As the PM gasped and tried to catch his breath over the edge of the boat, he looked directly into the face of a stern looking merperson staring back up at him from below the waterline. Bubbles issued from the merperson’s mouth as he shrieked in anger and although the PM did not speak a word of Mermish, it was clear from the ear piercing tone that the occupant did not appreciate the PM depositing his breakfast into the otherwise pristine lake. The startled PM nearly tipped over the boat as he hurriedly backed away from the edge and hid under a life preserver, much to the amusement of the several 11 year old students sharing the boat with him.

The PM's mind was still racing in several different directions as the boat came to a bumpy stop by a pier. On the pier was a welcoming delegation of several people dressed in bizarre apparel, but beaming huge smiles. Glad to be out of the water, the PM managed to lift himself out of the boat and climb up the ladder onto the pier.

"Welcome your highness" said an elderly lady who held out a hand in welcome. "I am Minerva McGonagal, Headmistress of Hogwarts and it is a pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry. I hope that this can be the first of many visits by you, in order to help strengthen the ties between our respective worlds."

McGonagal’s hand swept through the air and at the signal, a series of enormous fireworks, or perhaps they were really hallucinations thought the PM, exploded above and around the delegation. Fireworks in the shape of fire breathing dragons competed for air space with enormous multicoloured butterflies. A huge rainbow formed across the sky and at the end of the coloured arch, leprechauns danced a jig before self combusting in a shower of golden coins.

“Those Weasley boys have done it again” said McGonagal nodding upwards to the fireworks, as she took the trembling PM by the arm and introduced him to the reception delegation, who were respectfully standing in the greeting line.

“You know Arthur obviously” stated McGonagal as Arthur Weasley enthusiastically gripped the PM’s hand and said with grace befitting the moment, “Welcome your majesty”.

“And this is our Transfiguration Teacher, Professor Hermione Granger. She was one of the ones who defeated you-know-who several years ago” beamed McGonagal. The PM took Hermione by the hand and muttered his confused hello.

“You’ve already met Hagrid, our Care of Magical Creatures Teacher” McGonagal went on, oblivious to the wincing expression the PM made as his hand was crushed by the giant paw of Hagrid.

“And this is Professor Longbottom, our Herbology teacher” said McGonagal. The PM was still rubbing his injured hand from the previous encounter and didn’t offer it to Neville, who shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

“And finally, these are the Potters – Professors Harry and Ginny Potter who teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms respectively”. The PM muttered something about needing some defence against the dark arts himself as McGonagal continued with the introductions. “The Potters and the surviving DA members finally defeated the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters seven years ago. They now jointly head the new Order of the Phoenix and following a recent sabbatical to give birth to their first baby, Ronald Junior, they both graciously accepted the invitation to commence at Hogwarts on the faculty.”

“Lovely to meet you” said the red headed beauty who had been exchanging frequent loving glances and the occasional friendly elbow in the ribs with her handsome husband before turning her full attention to the guest of honour. “And this is my husband, Harry.” Ginny said, gesturing to Harry next to her.

The Prime Minister looked at Harry. His eyes were a piercing green colour and twinkled with mischief and a wicked sense of humour, but also had a gentle sadness about them. His dark and wavy hair was stylishly long with a lock draped carelessly across his forehead, hiding something that couldn’t be quite made out by the Prime Minister.

“This does take some getting used to” chuckled Harry to the bewildered PM, “but the best is yet to come when we get inside. Come along please sir” Harry gestured towards the enormous doors of what was clearly now transformed into an authentic medieval castle rather than a set of ruins, much to the astonishment of the overawed Prime Minister.

The delegation made their way up through the entry and turned into the Great Hall of Hogwarts, where a slack jawed PM tried to take in the surrounds. Hundreds of students were seated along four long rows of tables. What caught the attention of the Prime Minister however was the ceiling of the great hall, which looked like a fantastic telescopic vision of the deepest part of the galaxy. Nebulae swirled, supernovae burst into brilliance, comets streaked through the solar systems and great ringed planets orbited around a myriad of coloured twinkling stars.

“The Prime Minister of Muggles”, Hagrid’s voice boomed across the hall by way of introduction. The entire assembly of students stood up from their great long tables to greet the PM in unison and the sound of hundreds of chairs scraping backward and hundreds of pairs of feet meeting the ground echoed around the hall.

Unfortunately for the Prime Minister, he was still looking up awestruck at the charmed ceiling when a loud cackle rang out across the silenced room. Above the doorway, Peeves the poltergeist was perched over the door frame with a battleaxe he had stolen from one of the suits of armour on the 4th floor.

“Bombs Away” shrieked Peeves, as he let go of the heavy iron weapon and it crashed directly onto the PM’s head with a sickening thud, right between and slightly above the eyes. The PM collapsed like a house of cards as McGonagal swore in a most unladylike fashion and sent a blue coloured curse after the hastily departing Peeves. Professor McGonagal pick up her long robes and with a swish, took off out of the hall in hot pursuit of the troublesome entity. The collective gasps of a hundred shocked students filled the hall, followed by a stunned silence.

“Bloody hell” whispered Ginny, as Harry bent down to check the crumpled form of the PM. “That must have hurt.”

At their feet, the leader of Great Britain and Northern Ireland bled profusely from an open gash in his forehead. Harry pulled out his wand, directed it at the head of the unconscious Prime Minister and muttered a handy countercurse that he had learned from Snape years earlier. The tissues of the scalp fused back together and the bleeding from the PM’s forehead was soon stemmed. The PM’s eyes eventually opened but were dazed and confused as he struggled to focus on the several forms hovering nervously over him.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t tickle” agreed Harry in quite an understatement. A sly grin broke out across his face as he looked mischieviously into the eyes of his lovely young wife, “and you know something, it will probably also leave quite a decent scar on his forehead”.

“Well, you know,” deadpanned Ginny, “Some girls find that look quite attractive, in a rugged kind of way. As long as they aren’t missing an eye like Moody or minus most of their teeth or anything like that”

“Really?” smirked Harry. “And is that what you find attractive about me Mrs Professor Potter?” As Harry tilted his head and raised his eyebrow in question, his errant lock of hair swept away from his forehead, revealing his own lightning shaped scar.

Ginny broke out into a wide grin. “What I find attractive about you Mr Professor Potter, is your ability to perform one of Lockhart’s old handy memory charms on our guest. I think that it might be best if we started all over again.”

And so it was that the Prime Minister was found later that evening by his now frantic security people, sound asleep in his office with his head down on his mahogany desk and snoring away quite blissfully. When roused, the PM woke up sheepishly, quite confused and disorientated, and totally unable to explain his sudden disappearance from the train station, or his ongoing absence for several hours, or why he was now covered in ash and soot. All he knew was that he had a throbbing headache, which he put down to the overwhelming stress of the new job. After assuring them that he was fairly OK, the PM dismissed his security people and advisors, some of who habitually went to the old door of the office and tugged uselessly, forgetting that it was somehow jammed beyond redemption. The PM watched as they threw their hands up in frustration and moved across to the newly cut doorway. He sighed, folded his arms and put his head down on the desk to rest again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at the fireplace in the corner of the office and thought to himself that he really should have it bricked up. He didn’t know why - only that it gave him the willies. It was strange, but that fireplace gave him an equal sense of dejavu as well as fear. He spied it warily over the crook of his elbow as his head rested on his arms. Suddenly, a movement caught his eye - a green spark spat out of the fireplace, which was unlit and supposedly stone cold. As the PM sat up, trepidation filling his very core, the fireplace spontaneously burst into green flames. From some deep recess of his subconscious, a small voice cried out inside his mind, “oh no, not again!” just before he fainted, hitting his head with a firm thud on the desktop and adding another egg to his collection.

Muah hah hah ha ! Muah hah ha ha....

Durro
(Please feel free to leave comments/suggestions about this or any of my other EEFFD's. Thanks!)

This is evlpez's dare:
1. Harry starts a 'Voldy's Horcrux' collection
2. Hermione redecorates the Chamber of Secrets
3. Draco Malfoy is humilated (because that's fun to do to him.. )
4. Hogwarts Teachers take a day off.
5. Include proper use of the following words: screwdriver, effervescent, apt, crayon, diligence
Due date: October 20

The great hall of Hogwarts fell silent as Professor McGonagal strode towards the lecturn located at centre stage of the teachers’ area. The discordant noise of hundreds of students animatedly talking fell to the occasional hushed whisper as the new Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry prepared to speak for the first time. Professor McGonagal had been elevated to the position following the unexpected death of Professor Dumbledore at the end of last term, an event which sent shockwaves of fear throughout the wizarding world. Student numbers were down markedly, but the traditions of several hundred years of wizarding education could not be denied and so the great castle had once again opened it doors and welcomed back its loyal students.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes fell upon McGonagal, some reflecting hope and well wishes, but some were staring daggers at her out of resentment and fear. Many Slytherin students in particular, stole evil glances in the direction of the Headmistress, but most could not bring themselves to look her directly in the eye. The figure of McGonagal represented their nemesis, as both Headmistress of Hogwarts and as the new leader of the Order of the Phoenix, the organization whose members were largely responsible for apprehending dozens of the Slytherin student’s parents and sending them to Azkhaban Prison or in a few cases, killing them. Given the situation, the Slytherin students would have normally been more aggressive and defiant, but one of their ringleaders in Draco Malfoy was missing, a fugitive from the time of Dumbledore’s death due to his complicity in gaining access for the Death Eaters who attacked Hogwarts.

Over at the Gryffindor table though, Harry, Hermione and Ron, and most of their peers were fixated on McGonagal as she nervously cleared her throat and prepared to step into the large shoes of Albus Dumbledore. The normally effervescent students were quite subdued and many were overcome with the emotion of the moment. Hermione’s eyes glistened with tears and Ron coughed to disguise the tightness coming from his own throat. Harry though, stared at McGonagal with a mixture of admiration and anticipation. He admired her strength and courage for fighting for Hogwarts to remain open, a battle of wills both with the Ministry and the School board itself. Truth be known though, Harry was most anxious to access the Headmaster’s office, so that he could communicate with the portrait of Dumbledore and gain more vital clues to the whereabouts and nature of Lord Voldemort’s remaining horcruxes. He watched intently as Professor McGonagal prepared to speak.

“Students,” she said, her own voice barely stronger than Ron’s strangled croakiness. McGonagal cleared her throat once more and continued. “I am afraid that the start of term shall be delayed until further notice, possibly indefinitely.”

A buzz swept through the students at this startling revelation.

“Silence please! I assure you that this is not because of any danger posed to the student body or from any lack of diligence on the part of our teaching staff, all of whom are thoroughly prepared to commence with lessons immediately.” stated McGonagal. “However, it is my unpleasant duty to inform you that the Federated Association of Teachers and Coaches Of Wizards, or “FATCOW” as our Trade Union is known, has called a snap strike and all Professors are downing wands in support of our wage claim which is before the Wizengamot (Industrial Arbitration Subcommittee) as we speak. The membership has made a claim for a 20 galleon per week wage increase, which is apt in light of the cost of living increases we have seen in recent times. The school board has seen fit to only offer 5 galleons per week and until this dispute is resolved, students are on free time until further notice.”

A rousing cheer rose from the students and McGonagal struggled to make her voice heard over the din. “Prefects – my office now!” barked McGonagal, and she turned and swept out of the great hall and leaving the chaos behind her.

Harry never regretted more not being a prefect and having the opportunity to visit the Headmistresses office and with it, a chance to see Dumbledore’s portrait. Not wishing to make his friends uncomfortable though, he shrugged his shoulders and nodded to Ron and Hermione, who both set off for the headmistresses’ office.

They found Harry in the Gryffindor common room about an hour later. Harry raised his eyebrow in controlled anticipation as Ron and Hermione sat down on the comfortable couch near Harry.

“Firstly Harry, I know that you’ll want to know” stated Hermione. “Dumbledore’s portrait didn’t say anything. He was awake and followed the conversation in McGonagal’s office, but merely smiled and didn’t say anything at all.”

Hermione could see Harry visibly deflate and grind his teeth.

“But the good news is mate, no classes !” beamed Ron. “It’s true, the teachers are all in their offices or sleeping quarters, and the prefects are in charge!”

“Great. That’s great news.” replied Harry, who obviously didn’t feel great about it at all.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to mope about here with you two” said Hermione. “I’m going to do something constructive, like tidy up this musty old castle.”

And with that, Hermione briskly walked off, wand in hand and ready to do battle with dust and grime.

“She’s off her rocker” said Ron. "Hermione has a loose screwdriver as the muggles say"

“A loose screw” sighed Harry, who clearly wasn’t in any mood to clean a castle, unless it involved spring cleaning near Dumbledore’s portrait. Ron sat in silence with Harry for as long as he could bear it, which not unsurprisingly, was only about 3 minutes. Finally, the opportunities presented by the teachers’ strike were too enticing for Ron, and he left the Gryffindor common room, pondering out loud whether to get together a scratch Quidditch game, or join his little sister Ginny in casting bat bogey hexes at unsuspecting first year students. Harry soon tramped up to his sleeping quarters and threw himself down on his bed to mope.

The hours ticked by and Harry was roused from his morose state by the buzz of students running amok in the Gryffindor common room. Harry realised that his stomach was growling and so he set off to find Hermione or Ron and have lunch with them. Harry walked through the hallways of Hogwarts, looking for his friends. Ambushes were abundant and Harry deftly deflected several curses directed at him by foolish first or second year pranksters, many of who now found themselves covered in bat bogies thanks to Ginny’s expert tuition of Harry.

Eventually, after having no success for nearly half an hour, Harry ran into Moaning Myrtle who informed him that Hermione was cleaning up the Chamber of Secrets underneath the 2nd floor girls’ bathroom. Harry duly trudged down into the Chamber to find that Hermione had magically splashed an array of pastel colours throughout the walls of the Chamber of Secrets, making it look like some demented 2 year old giant had scribbled on the walls with an enormous crayon set. She had conjured up a kaleidoscope of colours and decorations, and sat sweating, but happy, in the middle of the chamber.

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes at the scene before him. The gaudiness of the assortment of colours turned his stomach and he suddenly lost his appetite. After making an excuse to leave this chamber of new and improved horrors, Harry made his way up to near the room of requirement. Three times, Harry walked past the area of wall where he knew the door would appear, thinking to himself that he needed to find Voldemort’s horcruxes. On the 3rd pass, a doorway magically appeared and Harry entered.

Inside was a collection of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Not the real ones mind you, but replicas of the known horcruxes that Harry was aware of. Harry found waiting for him Marvolos ring, Riddle’s diary, Hufflepuff’s cup and Slytherins’s locket. Harry though that this was a reasonable start to his horcrux collection, and spent 15 minutes blasting them with a reducto curse to destroy each horcrux item and pretending that each one was a real horcrux. Of course being the room of requirement, the horcruxes magically regenerated themselves after each curse for Harry to continue with his target practice.

From outside the room though, Harry heard a great commotion in the courtyard. He rushed to the window and saw a large crowd of students gathered around the magic gates to Hogwarts. Something was obviously up, but he couldn’t quite make out what was happening and so set off downstairs to investigate. Harry bumped into Ron on the way down, as they joined the throng of students heading towards the gates.

“You won’t believe what’s happened mate” beamed Ron. “I think that Christmas has come early”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

You’ll see mate, you’ll see” came the cryptic reply.

The duo elbowed past the other students and Ron used his status as a 7th year prefect to threaten and intimidate the younger students out of the way so that he and Harry could get to the front. They finally reached their goal, just in time to meet up with Hermione who had used similar tactics to get her own prime position. They looked out of the gates and in unison, dropped their jaws to the ground. Ron, Hermione and Harry looked back at each other and saw the disbelief reflected in each others eyes. As one, they turned back and stared at the bizarre sight before them.

Draco Malfoy stood outside the gate encased in ropes binding his whole body. Maple syrup and chicken feathers coated him, and he was stripped down to only his underwear. A court jester’s hat sat atop his head and around his neck hung a sign with the legend “Foolish Chicken”, written in handwriting all too familiar to Harry from his experience with the diary of Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort had obviously been displeased with Draco and had sent him back to the clutches of the Order of the Phoenix to be ridiculed and to face trial for his participation in the attack on Hogwarts. Death was too good for Draco it seemed.

As Draco stood trembling before the laughing crowd, Harry actually felt remorse for his old nemesis. Outcast from the sides of both good and evil, Draco was truly a lost soul and an object to be pitied.

“C’mon, let’s go get him” said Harry. Hermione and Ron both raised their eyebrows in question.

“Let’s take him to McGonagal, she’ll know what to do with him” Harry stated.

A hand came down on Harry’s shoulder. “That would be Professor McGonagal, Mr Potter if you don’t mind. I will take care of things from here. Now I think that it would be most appropriate if you senior students would kindly usher the younger students back to their respective classes. FATCOW has accepted a 12 Galleon increase and the teachers are back on the job. Classes are to recommence immediately.”

The moan from Ron was cut short by the withering stare of McGonagal. Reluctantly, they turned around and started herding their charges back towards the castle, leaving Professor McGonagal to deal with the mysterious reappearance of Draco Malfoy.

“And Potter!” said McGonagal to the retreating form of Harry, who turned around to face her. “I would like to see you in my office at 7pm tonight. We have someone that we need to talk to….together.”

“Yes ma’am” smiled Harry, who turned around and ran back to join his friends, a smile on his face and a new spring in his step.

Durro
(Please feel free to leave comments/suggestions about this or any of my other EEFFD's. Thanks!)

This is my response to Evlpez's Dare, which was
1. Teachers at Hogwarts add 'Veggie Tales' to the curriculum
2. It's Halloween. Dress some people up.
3. Filch casts a spell!
4. Madam Hooch falls in love.
5. Include the following: 'the brains of the outfit', a man with a dog, coffee, an observer, an itchy nose hex.
Due date: November 7th


It was getting late at Hogwarts, but much to the frustration of many of the participants, the teacher’s meeting was dragging on into the night. Professor Flitwick struggled to stay awake and was frequently nudged by Madam Hooch to prevent his snoring becoming embarrassing for everyone. The debate was about the curriculum’s latest addition. A directive had been handed down from the Ministry of Magic that “Muggle Studies” would be henceforth added to the range of subjects taught at Hogwarts, replacing the somewhat outdated teaching of the reading of Ancient Runes. This was the wizarding world’s version of the cessation of teaching Latin and was part of a drive to make modern wizarding education more relevant and practical. As the magical world increasingly intertwined with muggle existence, the Ministry felt that it would be most appropriate for young wizards to become familiar with their non-magical counterparts’ lives. Indeed, many young half-bloods and muggle-borns who were exposed to muggle existence as youngsters were now pushing to have mobile telephones replace the owl post as the favoured means of communication between young wizards. However, the magical interference with all electronics at Hogwarts caused no end of angst amongst those who were used to the conveniences of modern technology such as SMS, DVDs, PS2’s and a whole array of other acronyms that bewildered the uninitiated.

To research the topic, Minerva McGonagal, had spent part of her summer at number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, to obtain ideas about how to educate wizard children about Muggle life. Of course, the Dursley family would have been outraged to know that they had another magical person living with them, but fortunately, McGonagal was an animagus and spent the majority of her time as a cat curled up on the couch as an observer while Harry set the TV to watch educational muggle TV programs. Uncle Vernon had objected to the cat of course, but Harry explained that this was his new pet. Harry said that a wizard’s pet was his “familiar” as muggles knew them from fairy tales and as such, it had its own magical powers. Harry sternly warned them that the Dursleys shouldn’t try to interfere with it in any way for fear of instant reprisal. Accordingly, the Dursleys had distanced themselves from the cat as though it was a bubonic plague carrier and Harry and McGonagal were left alone to view the TV’s offerings.

A few weeks later, on Harry’s advice, Professor McGonagal had apparated to the Virgin Megastore near Piccadilly Circus in London and had chosen a number of DVDs to help illustrate muggle life back at Hogwarts. She scared the living daylights out of a group of teenagers who were browsing for music when she suddenly appeared out of thin air next to them. But thanks to Harry’s foresight and advice, she explained that her dramatic appearance and strange attire was part of Richard Branson’s promotion for the Nanny McPhee DVD, which seemed to placate the teenagers much to her relief. McGonagal then bumped into a man with a dog. He was wearing dark black sunglasses and held a handle that was attached to the dog. She asked the man where she could find muggle DVD’s for students but the man said that he didn’t know. The dog however, spoke to McGonagal in a tongue only understood by dogs and magic folk, and directed her to the right section. McGonagal also ended up confusing the cashier when she went to pay with gold galleons instead of British Pounds until she remembered the credit card that Harry had loaned her. McGonagal’s selection had included DVDs about music, sports, history and children’s education. For her own personal viewing, she also bought a DVD about a handsome chef called Jamie Oliver who apparently cooked food in the nude, but she was keeping that for her own entertainment after classes had ended.

Upon her return to Hogwarts, McGonagal shrewdly set up a Faraday cage around a specially adapted classroom. The cage was an electromagnetic barrier to outside interference and allowed her to operate a TV and DVD player without any problems, in order use audiovisual aides to help educate the students at Hogwarts about muggle existence.

And so it was that McGonagal now faced her peers and explained how these DVDs would help educate the young wizards and witches of Hogwarts. Snape, who showed antipathy if not downright hostility towards muggles at the best of times, picked up one of the offending DVDs and after reading the cover, threw it in disgust across the teacher’s table, startling Sybil Trelawney and causing her to choke and splutter as she accidentally breathed in the sip of coffee she was just having. Hagrid dutifully thumped her on the back, replacing her fear of gagging with a probable case of whiplash.

“What’s this rubbish, “Vegie Tales?” sneered Snape. “And what, pray tell, can a talking tomato and his cucumber friend enrich the students’ minds with when the majority of them can’t even brew a decent pot of tea let alone anything like an acceptable magic potion!”

“Severus, it’s a program which teaches young muggles about values and rules” replied McGonagal. “I thought that it would help understand a muggle’s mindset.”

“And AC/DC Live at Donnington ? This school student on the cover is clearly violating whatever uniform code his school has.” snapped Snape, pointing to the picture of a half naked Angus playing guitar wearing his school cap and baggy pants only. “What example is that supposed to set for our students?”

The debate raged on late into the evening, but eventually, McGonagal’s directions were firm, and the DVD’s were to be incorporated into the curriculum, AC/DC and Vegie Tales included.

Downstairs at approximately the same time, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and several fellow Gryffindors were lounging around in the Gryffindor Common Room. Now that Fred and George, the incorrigible Weasley Twins, were no longer at Hogwarts, the sheer volume of pranks and general shenanigans at the school had diminished greatly, but not entirely however, as this meeting of minds would soon prove. The group had gathered to discuss Halloween and what trouble they could cause in celebration of this event. Ginny sat in a comfortable recliner, gently running her fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry was seated on the ground in front of the chair, enjoying Ginny’s ministrations. Ron and Hermione sat opposite them on a couch, separated by a comfortable distance after Ron had accidentally touched Hermione’s leg earlier during the discussion and caused a moment of extreme awkwardness for them both. Both had subtly retreated to the ends of the couch under the guise of a yawn and stretch, and a firm no go zone was in place between them. Seamus and Neville had flopped down on bean bags and Dean stood with his back to the fireplace, warming himself against the late October chill which had started to pervade the room.

“So what should we do for Halloween this year?” asked Ron, who had just started scratching his nose and studiously avoiding looking at Hermione next to him.

“There’s always a party” replied Harry, “but I think that we should add some spice to it. Hermione, you’re the brains of the outfit, what do you suggest?”

Hermione gave a quick glance over to Ron, who was still scratching away and wrinkling his nose like an overcurious puppy that had just been pecked by an annoyed chicken.

“Well,” she said, “I haven’t given it much thought this year, what with everything that happened last term. But I am interested in finding out what Filch is going to try this year.”

“Filch! That rotten old sod.” exclaimed Seamus. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

Hermione rolled her eyes in her usual exasperation when it was obvious that someone did not know something that they clearly should have known, at least in Hermione’s opinion. Of course, as Hermione was the top student at Hogwarts, she had learned a great deal that everyone else hadn’t and she often made the mistake of assuming that everyone else knew as much as her.

“Seamus, Halloween is the one time of the year that a squib can actually cast a spell. It’s the Sadie Hawkins Day of the magic world, where people born of wizarding parents, but whom usually can’t perform magic, get one chance to cast a spell. You see, it’s due to recessive genes, the confluence of magical auras and the abnormally high concentration of..…

“OK, OK, I get it” Seamus cut her off before the conversation could degenerate into an impromptu lecture, as a chat with Hermione often did.

“Yeah” said Dean, “Don’t you remember last year when Filch tried to do a Petrificus Totalus on Fred Weasley, but he ended up saying Pacificus Totalus, causing Fred to be extraordinarily calm and relaxed for an hour or so.”

“Yes, and the year before that when he tried to send a stunner at George but Filch tripped and ended up sending his own foot to sleep for the rest of the night. He limped around for hours” laughed Ginny.

“Come to think of it,” chimed in Harry, “Every year I’ve been here, Filch has gone after Fred and George with his one spell on Halloween. I wonder what he’ll do now that they’re gone” he asked.

“Go after you” suggested Ron, who was by now furiously scratching at his nose and making it look the same shade of red that serious alcoholics tend to develop. “After my big brothers, Filch probably hates you most of all.”

“Well, at least he’s not as sneaky as your sister Ronald” pronounced Hermione. “I think that Ginny has been practising her non-verbal spells on you.”

“What?” came the startled reply from Ron, who was now in danger of drawing blood from his itchy nose.

“Ha ha!” laughed Ginny. “It’s a new itchy nose hex I’ve been working on.” she replied, revealing her wand next to her in the seat of the recliner. She deftly pointed it at Ron and the irritation was instantly gone, only to be replaced by a sheepish look of embarrassment as his Gryffindor colleagues had a good laugh at his expense.

“I’ve an idea. How about we dress up for the Halloween party as awful muggle things?” suggested Harry.

“What do you mean?” came the chorused response.

“Well,” Harry said, “Muggles dress up at Halloween as things from the magical world that scare them. You know, ghosts, werewolves, vampires and the like.”

“Don’t let nearly headless Nick hear you say that. He prides himself on his congeniality and would be aghast at the mere mention of being considered a scary entity.” stated Hermione.

“And what’s wrong with werewolves?” asked Ron. “Lupin’s a great guy, although I take their point about someone like Greyback. He’s downright frightening if you ask me.”

Harry went on, “Maybe we could have fun and dress up like weird and scary muggle things. I could be fun!”

“What’s scary in the muggle world?” asked Neville.

“You obviously haven’t watched an episode of Jerry Springer” replied Harry with a grin on his face. “There’s lots to be scared of on that TV show. Let me explain what I have in mind….” and he lowered his voice in a conspiratorial manner to outline some suggestions for the party.

Finally, the day of the Halloween party arrived. The Gryffindor students had agreed to not watch each other prepare to get dressed up and to surprise each other with their entrance at the party, held in the great hall. Harry was one of the last to be ready, and he eventually made his way towards the grand doors of the great hall. At the entrance, an enchanted suit of armour stood and greeted each guest in turn as they arrived. It sometimes took the time to comment on the quality of some of the costumes before directing the partygoers inside. Harry said hello to the suit of armour who in response uttered “Yet another Gryffindor I take it.” If it had had eyes, it would have been rolling them back into its non-existent skull. Harry walked into the great hall, and immediately spotted his cohorts from Gryffindor. Whereas most of the students were dressed conventionally as ghosts or vampires, the small group of Gryffindor students stood out from the crowd by their unusual attire.

Ginny and Hermione gasped as they spied Harry, whilst Ron, Seamus and Neville simply burst out laughing. Harry was dressed in a shiny military suit jacket and a black fedora hat. His face was covered by a tied hankerchief and a shiny metallic glove twinkled on his left hand. In his right, Harry carried a masked baby doll hanging upside down by the legs.

“What the heck are you supposed to be?” laughed Ron.

“I’m Michael Jackson, woo hoo” replied Harry in a high pitched, almost feminine voice, as he moonwalked backwards. “Would you like to see me dangle my baby out of the window?"

Howls of laughter greeted this impression.

"And what are you Ron?” Harry laughed, his voice returning to normal.

Ron has dressed in a tattered tank top and shorts which were three sizes too large. He had applied an engorgio charm to his buttocks and stomach, both of which hung over the stretched elastic of the shorts. A toolbelt hung precariously under his bulging waistline.

“I’m a plumber” chortled Ron. “that’ll be 100 pounds for a call out fee to do the quote, but it'll take me a week to come back and fix it.”

“Arrggghhhh” winced Harry. “That’s horrible. And what about you Ginny ?”

Ginny had applied some discrete engorgio charms to her face as well as a touch of petrificus totalus here and there, giving her face a bloated and frozen look. Gaudy makeup was splashed liberally around her face, almost clownlike in its garishness. She wore a glittering strapless ballgown, from which her magically enhanced bust line threatened to burst out of, much to Harry’s interest.

“I’m a hollywood actress who has had too much plastic surgery!” she mumbled through engorged, frozen lips.

The response from her cohorts was a chorus of groans and fake vomiting sounds. Harry turned to Hermione and raised an eyebrow on his pasty white forehead.

“Listen to this” said Hermione, who was dressed in an old pair of tracksuit pants and a tattered T-shirt with “choose life” emblazoned across it. On her feet were a manky old pair of sheepskin ugg boots. She placed her wand against her throat and recited the incantation “scratchus sonorous”. She cleared her throat and started making a magically amplified noise, not entirely unlike a cat being dismembered by a chainsaw. At least that is what Harry though it was initially. until he listened to the words that Hermione was singing,

“And IIIIIIIIIIIIII….will alwaaaaaaaaays….love yoooooouuuuuuuuuu, and IIIIIIIIII, …….will always love YOUOOOOOOOUUUUU ohhhhhhh oohhhhhh” she wailed in a variety of musical keys.

The chandeliers rocked and dozens of students nearby clasped their hands over their ears. Whitney Houston would have been turning in her grave, if she was dead, Harry thought.

“I’m an American Idol contestant wannabee!” Hermione exclaimed. Cries of disgust and plenty of good natured ribbing greeted this pronouncement.

All eyes turned to Neville at last. He was dressed in a conservative suit and looked quite handsome, except for the gaudy stars and stripes patterned tie and the toy six shooter gun that he wore on his belt. He coughed to clear his throat, tapped his neck with his wand, made an incantation and spoke in an amazing impression of the current American President. He started to drawl in a Texan accent

“I consider Australia and New Zealand to be part of a new axis of evil. They have too many sheep, and therefore have weapons of grass destruction. Plus, Austria…….sorry, Australia, won nearly as many gold medals in the last Olympics as the USA did, and without any of the drugs that we secretly give our athletes….oh darn, I shouldn’t have said that. Anyhow, this kind of global threat can no longer be tolerated and as soon as we find those evil countries on the map, we’re invading.”

“Oohhhh, now that’s really scary” shuddered Harry. His friends all gathered around and congratulated each other on the horror and grossness of each others’ costumes. Deep into the evening, they stood around telling jokes and making fun of each other and generally enjoying the party atmosphere, until Hermione spied Filch walking through the door, muttering to himself. Hermione deftly detached herself from the group and positioned herself nearer to hear what Filch was saying. He was clearly focussed on practising the recitation of a spell and Hermione wanted to know what it was this year. To her deep amusement, she found out that it was a love spell.

“Oh how ghastly, who would Filch possibly want to cast that upon?” asked Ginny when Hermione returned and told everyone the news.

“It gets lonely in the janitor’s closet I guess. But I thought that he had a thing for his cat.” said Ron. “He’s obviously got his eye on someone else though, but who?”

The Gryffindor group kept a watchful eye on Filch, who stayed fairly close to the entranceway and monitored the arrival of each new guest. He was obviously laying in wait for a specific target and planted himself on a chair with a good view of the door.

About half an hour later, Filch suddenly bolted upright as Madam Hooch, looking delightful despite being dressed as a green goblin, entered the great hall to join the party. Filch spilled his glass of pumpkin juice in his lap as a result of his haste to get out of his seat and grab the wand he had been hiding inside his tattered old jacket. With trembling hands, Filch pointed the wand at the back of Madam Hooch and mumbled his love incantation.

At that moment, Madam Hooch was being greeted by the suit of armour. “Good evening to a beautiful maiden” intoned the suit of armour. Madam Hooch was taken aback and politely bowed in response, just in time to avoid being hit directly by Filch’s spell.

“Why thank you good sir” Madam Hooch responded, as the pink coloured spell streaked over her head, hit the suit of armour, and bounced back to hit her squarely on the rebound.

“Well, aren’t you a handsome suit of armour” Madam Hooch purred. She ran her hand across the armoured arm that was waving to the next guest. “So smooth, and firm. Tell me, do you work out much?”

The suit of armour majestically replied, “Your kindness fair maiden is only exceeded by your charm and beauty”

“Tell me big boy” Hooch responded in a husky voice, “How would you like me to buff and polish your shiny back for you ?”

And to Filch’s horror, a deeply in-love Madam Hooch took the suit of armour by the hand and led him outside the ballroom and into the night.

“Noooooooooo” wailed Filch, and he sat down heavily, his face buried in his hands.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville all burst out laughing and fell about in uncontrollable spasms of hysteria, much to the surprise of their fellow students who had missed what had just happened.

“Come on, let’s dance” shouted a recovering Hermione as the party took off and the volume of the dance music was cranked up. She took a surprised Ron by the hand and led him to the dance floor. Harry shrugged his shoulders, and clasped Ginny’s hand as they made their way to join their friends. It turned out to be one of the best Halloweens ever and the Gryffindors partied on late into the night.

Muah hah ha ha!!!!

Durro

P.S. Please feel free to leave comments or suggestions for this or any other of my EEFFD's. Thanks !