A/N: Alas, ‘tis the end! The wacky adventures of the Power of Suggestion are coming to a close. This is the final chappie for this story, and while I know you’re all sobbing, please take this handkerchief and try to finish with a brave face.
And for the final chapter, it was sponsored by Dr Pepper, pirates, and all you glorious readers whose mounds of reviews made this bit of psychedelic bedlam possible.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in their usual squashy armchairs by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, writing an essay for Potions. Harry scratched his nose. This would seem like a very stupid sentence except for the fact that up until the previous week, Harry hadn’t had a nose, he’d had a beak.
That’s right, Harry Potter was no longer a penguin.
In fact, no one had any more of their debilitating and/or silly problems. Everything was back to the way it had been before the Power of Suggestion had arrived. So Hogwarts was back to its usual nutty self, rather than being a roiling mass of hysterical chaos. Actually, it was kind of funny how that happened.
The Previous Week!
No-Longer-Professor Arbitrare was standing just inside the large oak front doors of Hogwarts, suitcase in hand. The jinxed DADA position had claimed yet another victim; Arbitrare had agreed to leave in exchange for not being thrown to the giant squid.
“Well, I suppose I’ll take my Snorkack and go,” he said glumly.
“Now hold on,” said Dumbledore. “I want your word that the Power of Suggestion will be gone from our school.”
“Or else,” added Snape.
“Or else what?” Arbitrare snapped back.
“Or else you’ll have to learn to like kalimari.”
“Oh. Right. Well, the spell ends as soon as I leave. By tomorrow morning, everything should be back to normal, whatever that is.”
“I didn’t know a wizard’s mere presence could start a spell,” Snape muttered to Dumbledore.
“Oh it can’t,” explained Dumbledore. “Turns out he’s not technically a wizard. He just makes weird things happen.”
“Then why did you hire him?” asked McGonagall incredulously.
“Well, he pulled a yak out of a top hat. It seemed impressive at the time.”
“Right, anyway,” said Arbitrare. He opened the front door and walked out, but he stopped on the top of the steps and turned dramatically. “Farewell, Hogwarts! I shall never forget your kind courtesy, your dank smelly halls, your-“ He would’ve kept going, except he fell down the steps just then. “Ouch.”
The Snorkack mooed and cantered past him. Arbitrare got up and started dusting himself off.
“You might want this,” said Snape, tossing something out to Arbitrare. It was the jar of Every-Flavor Beans.
“Aw, thanks, Sev.”
“Don’t call me that.” Snape turned on his heel and stalked back inside the castle.
“If you look inside, there’s a special Hogwarts momento for you,” added Dumbledore.
Arbitrare took the lid off the jar and peered inside. “A brick. Cool.”
“Yes indeed! It’s like having Hogwarts with you! I mean, I tried to give you a house elf, but it wouldn’t fit in the jar, so…”
“Albus!” said McGonagall in an appalled tone of voice.
“What?”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” said Arbitrare. “Dumbles, McG, it’s been fun.” And he and the Snorkack started down the long drive.
As they were passing under the main gate flanked by the winged boars, Arbitrare said, “Y’know Snorky, I’ve been thinking. Part of the problem with the Power of Suggestion might be the name itself. I mean, look at it this way: if it were going to work, the initials wouldn’t be P.O.S.”
The Snorkack mooed in response.
Meanwhile, inside the castle, Hermione was telling Harry and Ron about some research she’d done.
“You see?” she was saying. “Arbitrare isn’t even really a wizard, that’s why he never had a wand! It turns out that he came from another story of the author’s.”
“Exactly!” exclaimed the author, popping out of nowhere. “I’d created Arbitrare for another story, but I needed someone to helm the Power of Suggestion for me, since I wouldn’t be able to run it myself while I was scribing the insanity. So Arbitrare agreed to do it. And I gave him a new name so no one would suspect! His name’s really Arbitrar!”
“You mean you just get rid of the E?” asked Harry.
“That’s stupid,” said Ron.
“Yes it is,” said the author. “And I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling kids and that dog!”
“What?”
“It’s just an expression.”
The next morning dawned bright and sunny, perhaps to illustrate the overall feeling inside the castle.
“Good morning!” called Harry as he sidled, which he could do since he was no longer a penguin, into the Great Hall for breakfast.
“Looking good, mate!” said Ron, pulling a plate of sausages towards him.
“It’s kind of a shame,” said Ginny, sans hook. “I thought he was awfully cute as a penguin.” Ron choked on a sausage.
“Give it a rest, Ron,” said Hermione, thumping Ron on the back with her no longer duct taped arm. Ron coughed a couple times, then managed a “thanks.”
After a swig of orange juice, Ron glanced around the hall. “Looks like everyone else is back to normal too. Ah crap, Malfoy’s back. It would’ve been great if he’d stayed dead.”
“Ron!”
Back To The Present Week It Was At The Beginning Of The Chapter!
Harry sat back and stretched. “I’m tired of doing homework,” he said. “Hey, let’s do something actually in character and go visit Hagrid!”
“Yay!” yelled Ron, throwing his quill in the air (it narrowly avoided stabbing a second year in the eye). Hermione looked disapprovingly at him, then stowed her essay in her bag.
Hagrid was in a good mood about the school returning to normal, but he was a bit disappointed that Arbitrare had taken the Snorkack when he’d left (“If on’y he’d lent ‘im to me fer a couple more lessons!”). The trio tried to look sympathetic, and took some extra rock cakes to make Hagrid feel better.
They were walking down the corridors back to the common room when they heard something large moving behind them. They turned to see that they were being followed by a llama.
“Oh no,” groaned Harry.
A/N: Well, there we are, the Power of Suggestion has come to a close, as has the story. And while it is sad, let us not be bogged down in depression, as bogs are smelly. This is a story about laughter, after all! So send your affections, afflictions, comments, coupons, croutons, and others by reviewing! (Pst! If you drop some more ideas, I wouldn’t say no to a sequel…..)