Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts

Saturday, November 19, 2022

The Murder of Professor Flitwick


The Death of Professor Flitwick
Harry Potter Fanfic

Mystery!
It all started with the Clue game...

Solution: Hermione Granger, with a Library Book, in the Charms Classroom (2E, Third floor grounds tower, Hogwarts)
___________________________

The Backstory:

"The Murder of Professor Flitwick"

Professor Filius Flitwick was in a predicament. A very definite predicament. It all boiled down to that little smart-aleck jerk, Rufus Fudge. A bet is a bet and a joke is a joke, and this time, the little turd had gone too far. Yes, "turd," Flitwick thought (which may seem out of character for Flitwick, a determinedly nice guy). But this war had changed him. Not the nice-guy part, but he had certainly let some coarseness of habit slip into his usually nice demeanor. "Turd," he mentally reiterated. "And I say it again." 

But that's just it. He couldn't "say" it. He was lucky to be able to think it. Thank God he still had that, or some remnant of it. For Fudge had gone and turned Flitwick into something--not quite human. Right in the middle of an argument about that muggle-train incident. "Wham!" And here he was. Stuck in an ugly, furry little body, and mute. Not able to speak. He could formulate words--mentally. He just couldn't say them. How would he ever communicate-- And now Fudge had been sacked! Sacked, and gone off in a huff, hothead that he was. 

Flitwick sighed. "Hothead. I'm the hothead. It's my own fault. A fool, to argue with a fool." Most likely, he was in this permanent state for life. What to do, what to do...? McGonagall? Could he get through to McGonagall? He thought and thought. But, wait...? "Here's an idea. What about Hermione? Now there's a girl of some resources. Sharp, and perceptive, too. Knows every spell in the book, and then some. Signs, runes. Languages, too. Now there's somebody who might be receptive to the unconventional. But, how to get through...?"
                        * * * * * * * * * * 
Hermione poked her head into her old Charms classroom, 2E. She had hoped to run into Professor Flitwick. He had survived the War of '98, that much she knew. Why wouldn't he have come back to teach? Had he chucked it all--maybe bitter at his wartime experiences, disgusted with life? That didn't sound like Flitwick. And now these weird signs. Barely signs. Vibes, she might almost say, but she was no auror. Was she wrong? Just imagining things?

She liked the diminutive professor. He was a kindly sort, and had certainly turned out to be a good fighter. She pushed the door all the way open. A thick layer of cobwebs, torn at the opening of the door, fell from the doorframe and brushed against her face. Ugh! Shuddering, she brushed them quickly from her hair. Ugh! Spiders in one's hair. Not a pleasant thought. Was she picking up Ron's horror of spiders? They still frightened him, she knew. He tried to pretend he was over it, but...

Hermione wasn't a nervous ninny--not to make light of Ron's fear, of course. He had good reason. That teddy bear. The idea of a sweet little three-year-old Ron clutching his favorite teddy, only to find himself cuddling up to a hairy, giant tarantula! For a brief second, her eyes moistened. The maternal instinct, wanting to go back in time and reassure the little fellow. Her hands went up to the little gold pendant--a locket, but it was the time turner she was thinking of. And then there was that run-in with Aragog. She shuddered again. He could have been killed, they all could... 

The whole room was covered in cobwebs. Strange. It hadn't been that long, surely. Of course, an old castle, high ceilings. Hard to keep the cobwebs down. No sign of Flitwick. No sign anyone had been here in a while. She wandered over to the desk. Library books. A big stack of them. She rubbed her hand across the top of the stack. She picked one up, idly turned the pages. "Spells, Charms, Hexes, and How to Reverse Them." She read a couple of paragraphs. Force of habit. 

She looked down at the stack. Odd. The books weren't dusty. She flipped to the inside back cover, pulled out the card. Not overdue. Hmm. She laid the book back with the others. Well, no use waiting. But she didn't leave. She stood there, hands on hips, puzzling. She sat down in Flitwick's chair.

                            * * * * * * *

Flitwick became aware that he had company. Human company. So... after all these weeks, his plan may have worked! Here she was in person, Hermione! He couldn't talk, couldn't whisper. But surely he could make some gesture, manage something, a whisper, a clicking--something. He moved closer. She didn't move. Asleep! "What to do, what to do? Drop a book?" Ha! The irony.
           
            * * * * * * * * * 
Hermione woke with a start. Something! The room was dim. The one little window let in a little light. Twilight. "Can't believe I've napped all this time." She was confused, still a bit sleepy, a bit cranky. And sweaty from her nap. "Gah! This thick hair." In a quick slap, she pushed it back off her neck. "Tap!" A little wad of something hit the table. And then... it moved! 

Aaaaaaaayyygggghhhh! "Whap!" The library book came down with a determined, brute force. Hermione didn't know she had it in her to hate with such passion. Gingerly, she lifted the book. "Ick." What was left of the "thing" was a sticky mess. 

It was several days later that an owl arrived at the Office of the Ministry, Misuse of Magic Department. In its beak was a properly sealed letter. Its tone was rather sheepish. It was the tone of someone who did a foolish, hotheaded thing, and, cooling down, eventually thought better of it. 

"To Whom it may concern: 
       "The writer of this letter wishes to inform the Ministry of his great mistake in turning Professor Filius Flitwick into a great, hairy spider. Perhaps, if one could be so kind as to change the good fellow back for me.
                  "Sincerely,
                  "Rufus Fudge, &c." 

Hagrid very kindly offered to bury what was left of poor Flitwick--now just a dried-up, crusty stain on the back cover of a spells-and-hexes book. But in the end, a proper burial in the churchyard was thought to be the best thing. The vicar was in full agreement. And so it was done.

No charges were filed against Hermione. Fudge was strongly reprimanded and the case was put forward for a full inquiry.

Saturday, September 18, 2021

Arthur Weasley's Muggle Treasures


Arthur's Muggle Treasures

Phone Call from Arthur Weasley

Hey, I just bought these two great muggle ecktrick boxes, I just love them. They're absolutely fascinating! Well, let's see, I can't rememberit was all hush-hush, you know, black-market stuff. Beezer, you know, he never wants to hang around in one place for longafraid he'll be caught, he made me promise... He told me what they are, I forget... 

Let's see, this first one... It's a small box or chest with a little window in front, it has a door on it. There's a cord to plug in, it works by ecktricity. I plugged it into my Gen-O-Rator, but it didn't do anything at first. It kind of looks like that muggle freezer we saw that time, but smaller. I put some ice in, but it melted. I pressed a number (it has these numbers) and the light came on, and the ice melted even FASTER. So then I decided it was an inbukator for chickens, you know, like that one we saw at the muggle fair? With a window where you can see the baby chicks when they hatch. So I put an egg in there and pressed "20" (for 20 days), but it exploded, absolutely explodedthe egg, not the chest—it stinks to high heaven! I can't imagineoh, wait! I remember, it's a MIRO-cave, that's what Beezer said, a mirocave. He didn't know what it's for. I think I could get it to work if I JUST knew what it was FOR! Do you have any idea...? 

And then he sold me this other box, it's silver and black, it's metal. It plugs in, so it's eckectrick all right, but nothing happens. Well, just a little red light comes on, not enough to see bycan't think what that's for. It has all kind of buttons on the front and little holes in the back. I think it might need extra cords. It's about the size of a lunch tray, and as deep as a coffee cup, about three, four inches high, solid. It plugs in, but it won't open. It doesn't have a door or lid of any kind. It has these covered slots, one has a hole about the size of a small book. The other one just won't open at all. It would just about hold a thin slice of bread, but if it is a drawer or mail slot, it must have a trick to it, I just can't budge it. It clicks and whirs when I mash one button, I think it's trying to open. Most of the printing has worn off. I can read "Magna..." and "..rogressive" and "Ope ...ect." Yes, "ect"—well, I don't know what that actually said, the lettering has worn off. Wait a minute, I wrote downI can't findnote here somewhere... Wait, it's a CVR, that's what Beezer said, I remember! A CVR. Pretty sure that's it.

Harry Potter Fanfiction