Chapter 6 Dating, phone calls, and Voldemort’s Newest Evil Plan
Over the next few days, signs were being posted around the school, all reading the same thing: COME TO THE FAREWELL CEREMONY FOR MR. MACDONALD, CARTER, AND GORDON (OR SOME VARIATION OF THAT) THIS THURSDAY. BRING…
And somehow, every time Draco, Vince and Greg went to read the signs, the words behind BRING were either too pale to read, scratched out by ink, or torn away. It seemed that there was some sort of enchantment that wouldn’t let them read it.
”Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Greg said uncertainly at dinner on Wednesday. “It’s planned to be a surprise for us…wonder what it’ll be?”
“I hope they bring our chicky friends,” Vince said dreamily. “I’m simply DYING to ask Josie about how Frank and Rebekah are doing now, and whether Sarah and Marcus did break up or not.”
“That’s all you care about, gossip!” Greg chided lightly. “Honestly, Vincent Bartholomew, couldn’t you just focus on the more, ah, intelligent and marvelous sides of chicken philosophy? Such as the inventions of the whattheheckisthis, the ihavenoideawhatitis, and the strangethingwithnoname? Or the questions that have puzzled the most gifted minds of the century: which came first, the chicken or the egg?”
“I have a piece of pork stuck to my teeth AGAIN,” Vince said, wincing and tuggling rather savagely at his wisdom tooth.
“I hope they bring a famous person,” Draco said, working up his own fantasies. “Anyone…preferably The Elvis Presley, though. He is so groovy.”
“Draco, have you been watching your father again?” Vince asked.
Draco ignored him. “Thank you…thank you very much,” he said in a VERY lame attempt to impersonate Wayne Newton. And then, “Come on, baby mama” for Elvis.
“Baby mama?” Greg inquired, his eyebrows raised. “Is that scientifically possible?”
“Damn, I can’t get it with even a toothpick,” Vince said, poking at the pork stuck in his teeth.
“I mean, how can a person be a baby and a mama at the same time?” Greg said. “Isn’t it true that females aren’t classified as women/mothers until a certain age…”
“Thank you, thank you very much,” Draco’s voice completely drowned him out. “You’re beautiful, I love you.”
Greg sighed. Having artificial intelligence and living with two complete morons was not his idea of Disneyworld.
***
“Hello? Head Dementor?”
Lucius Malfoy gripped the telephone tightly, anxiously waiting for the Head Dementor’s response. What kind of vile, evil and cruel creature would the Head Dementor be? Perhaps if he was having a bad hair day, he would take Lucius and throw him headfirst into a boiling cauldron of love. Lucius shuddered. He was allergic to love. (go awwww! (-: )
“Who is this? Hold on,” said a raspy voice which Lucius had not quite expected. He could hear some muffled yelling in the background (“YOU KIDS STAY OFF MY LAWN!!!!”), and some pots and cans banging loudly. Finally the voice came back, huffing and puffing and out of breath. “Sorry, just the neighbours’ little brats being obnoxious again. They annoy the heck outta me, I tell ya. Monday it’s ‘the cat ate your newspaper’. Tuesday is ‘the cat ate your milk’. Wednesday, ‘the cat ate your letter of protest’. Thursday, ‘the cat ate your cat’, and Friday, ‘the cat ate your brain’. I HATE them! They’re the brattiest brats on the whole entire freakin’ planet! And they think they can get away with it, too! It’s not even their cat, y’know! It’s some sort of orangish freakish loser feline named Gardner, Garfield, whatEVER! And there’s always that loser blondie dog chasin’ after him…Odish, Odie, again, whatEVER! That cat is so annoying, I swear he drank all my milk, and that dog! Worships him like an idol, he does! The only scrap of talent that dog’s got is dancing! I’ve seen him, he’s pretty good! The muggles even made it into a movie called Gardner, Garage, Garfield, hear me loud and clear, WHATEVERRRRRR!!!! I…”
“E-excuse me, Mr. Head Dementor,” Lucius said carefully. “Can I call you sir?”
“Naw, call me Billy Bob,” the reply came. “It’s what all the folks ‘round town call me, youngster. Aw cawse, I sure did fancy the name Flappin’ Jack fer a few moments, but it’s nawt really me, ya know! Billy Bawb really fits my cha-ract-stic-cer, yes siree, it shaw does. Aw cawse, eber since I put on some massive weights them, whoa howdy boy, I jest loved the way Bil’ Bawb rolls off yaw tongue! I…”
“Oooooo…kay,” Lucius said cautiously. “Moving on…do you live in Azkaban, uh, Billy Bob…sir?”
“No, dude, I, like, moved to Texas a few years back, yeah. Like, um, why are you, like, calling?”
“Are you sure you’re the Head Dementor?” Lucius was now very suspicious.
“Head Dementor?! What in blazes is that?”
“YOU’RE…A…MUGGLE!” Lucius roared, furious that he had dialed the wrong number. He was about to hang up when another voice took over the phone. It was a deep, low hiss, one that chilled a person to the bone. “Lucius Malfoy…” it breathed.
And suddenly, Lucius recognized the voice. “M-master?” he whispered.
“Yes, your master, you fool!” it spat. “What took you so long to recognize my voice?”
“Uh, uh, no offense, mas’er, but what was that other voice?” Lucius asked carefully.
“My housekeeper!” Voldemort hissed. “Damn Wormtail’s off on a mission, so I had to hire a dingblasted Muggle. He’s a klutz who’s hooked on crack and who switches to a different accent every few seconds, PLUS he just blabbers right off his mouth!”
“W-where are you, master?” Lucius asked quickly.
“Czechslovakia.”
“Czechslowhaffink?”
“I was KIDDING!” Voldemort roared. “I’m somewhere in London. Number Eleven Grimmauld Place.”
“I see,” Lucius said. “By the way, m’lord, do you know how I can reach the Head Dementor?”
“1-800-PIPE-REPAIR,” Voldemort said coolly.
“What?” Lucius was very confused.
“I was KIDDING! I don’t know the bloody damn dementoid number, you dimtwit!” Voldemort roared again. “Whyn’t you look that up in the telephone book and stop giving me prank calls?”
“Ooooo……kay, I will,” Lucius said. “Bye, now.”
“No, wait!” Voldemort cried. “Now that you’ve called, I have a brilliant idea!”
“Does it involve plastic surgery?”
“No.”
“Removal of the epidermis?”
“No.”
Lucius breathed out in relief. “What is it, then?”
“I was thinkin’, whyn’t you death eaters escape from Azkaban and join me, Lord Voldemort, in conquering the Wizarding World and assist me in becoming Supreme Ruler of the Universe? I will reward you, then, with showers of gold, silver and gemstones!”
“No thanks, not interested.” Lucius hung up.
“Wait! I’ll give you the Dunkin’ Donut shop, too!”
“Lucius! Yoo-hoo!”
“Yeah, Nancy?” he turned to see a dementor in a pink dress drift toward him. She was holding a letter. “This just came for you. From your son, I think.”
“My what?” Lucius asked blankly.
“Your son. Draco Malfoy. Your Pride and Joy?”
“Oh, yeah, right, the little annoying blonde twerp.” Lucius took the letter from her and opened it.
Yo pop,
Dem annnoing Hogwerts peepo sed dat we wood hav two go two sum maggle sgull in Amersica. Dat is, me, Crab, an Goyal. We don wannna go. Can U speak 2 da hedmeser or sumthin?
By da way, I outgru my pantyhose. I been weirin one sence I plaid da fRanch made in da sgulll plaiy cuz it feils good. Ken U ordur anuzer one 4 me? Sanx mach in adwans.
Oh an alsow mUm sayz U bettir not hook up wiss anuzer laidy in Asskaben hear. Becuz if U does dan she weel keel U. She bot a ryfo las wik sow I no she’z na kidin.
How is Assbakan? Didja meat any neu frans? Rimemer dat Ur puro ofiser sed dat U need 2 maike neu frans.
I hav 2 get redi 4 the Fairwel Saramonie now. I heer deer weel B much bugy densin! R U stil Irysh dencin in Azzbazakan? I hope not. U luk rilli bad in dat vest.
Gotta go,
Lil Drake
(For less able readers, here is the letter in correct form:)
Yo pop
Them annoying Hogwarts people said that we would have to go to some muggle school in America. That is, me, Crabbe, and Goyle. We don’t wanna go. Can you speak to the headmaster or something?
By the way, I outgrew my pantyhose. I’ve been wearing one since I played the French maid in the school play because it feels good. Can you order another one for me? Thanks much in advance.
Oh and also Mum says you better not hook up with another lady in Azkaban here. Because if you does then she will kill you. She bought a rifle last week so I know she’s not kidding.
How is Azkaban? Did you meet any new friends? Remember that your parole officer said that you need to make new friends.
I have to get ready for the farewell ceremony now. I hear there will be much boogie-dancing! Are you still Irish dancing in Azkaban? I hope not. You look really bad in that vest.
Gotta go,
Lil Drake
“What does it say?” Bellatrix asked curiously, approaching him.
“He outgrew his pantyhose,” Lucius said thoughtfully, casting the letter into the fire. “Again. The fool can’t even think of performing an engorgement charm!”
“Now that’s a big problem,” Nancy said. “You can shop at Cold Navy in cell #22 if you like, Lucius. They just recently got a big mailing order of X-Large cotton male pantyhoses.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Nancy. Now, aren’t you late for something?”
“The Varsity meet, you’re right! See y’all later!” Nancy ran, oops I mean glided, down the hall. Bellatrix turned to Lucius.
“What are you going to do about it?” she said. “I can help you pick out the pantyhoses if you like.”
“No, they don’t sell good pantyhoses at Cold Navy,” Lucius said. “I tried it once, and boy, did it itch like mad…never mind that. I’ve got to take action.”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to break out of Azkaban.”
Bellatrix’s eyes were wide from shock. “Break…out of Azkaban?” she whispered. “Are you crazy, Lucius?”
“What? You broke out of Azkaban, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but that was different!” Bellatrix exclaimed, pacing around the hallway. “I was suffering in here. I was almost driven mad. The square dancing! The pizza sticks! The I love Lucy reruns! It was TORTURE!”
“Lower your voice,” Lucius said quickly, looking around them anxiously to see if anyone had overheard. “No one must know of this, do you understand?”
“But why?” Bellatrix insisted.
“Because…” Lucius looked around them again. “The Dark Lord has called me!”
“What?” she yelped.
“Keep your voice down!” Lucius hissed again. “He is organzing all of his faithful servants to break out of Azkaban and join him in his army. You must come too, Bella. And Antonin, and all of the other Death Eaters who are not with him.”
“Where is he?” Bellatrix asked.
“It’s a secret,” Lucius said. “Go inform the other Death Eaters. We will work up a plan to escape.”
Bellatrix set off for the cells promptly, but she then stopped reluctantly in the doorway. “But Luce…”
“What?”
“But…this place is so wonderful. We can’t leave here. It’s like paradise.”
“Yes, but the call of the Dark Lord is much more important than mere physical relaxation,” Lucius said.
“What about the Irish dancing lessons? And your little leather vest, Walter?”
“Walter! I’d miss him, true…and…ohh…Irish dancing is so good.”
“Yeah. And then there’s Italian and spas and beauty salons…”
“AHHH!” Lucius collapsed. “My love of the Dark Lord and my love of the Paradise is TEARING ME APART!”
“Think, Lucius, think…” Bellatrix whispered. “Which is more important?”
Lucius lowered his head, thinking hard. Dunkin’ Donut…Dunkin’ Donut…Dunkin’ Donut…
“We will return to our Master,” he said firmly. “He needs us. Tell all the Death Eaters to meet in my cell at 12:00 tonight. We will discuss our plans.”
***
“No! No!” Draco moaned and yelled as he stood in the middle of a huge golden dish in his underwear and in the middle of the Great Hall. Every single student in Hogwarts had a large bucket, and they kept pouring pudding, gelatin, and every other liquid form in the world onto him. His sides were gooey and gross. His usually carefully-slicked hair was covered in strawberry milkshake, and his robes were smothered with chocolate ice cream. There were huge blobs of purple gelatin down his shirt, and they made his body feel very uncomfortable, plus jiggly. Mingled in the background were Trelawney’s yells. (“SHRIMP GELATIN!”)
Draco snorted. Suddenly he turned into a pig with a curly tair and a large hairy snout. He snorted and strutted around a farmyard. He was looking for a restroom.
Then he was human again, and he was sitting in a black-and-white tuxedo in a romantic restaurant with…TRELAWNEY????
“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Draco’s eyes snapped open. He was lying in his bed, and his back hadn’t sweated so much since he had gotten stage fright from playing the French Maid. It was around 1:00 in the morning.
“Draco?” Vince’s sleepy voice came from another bed. “What up, yo?”
“Had a nightmare,” Draco said, wiping his forehead. “Actually, a COUPLE of nightmares.”
He could hear Vince shuffling around, putting on his Spiderman pajamas, which had feet attached to save the expense of putting on socks, as Vince could never master the skill of sock-wearing. Then Vince had turned the lights on. Draco took one look of Vince’s face and screamed bloody murder.
Vince was HANDSOME.
In fact, Vince had transformed into Chad Michael Murray II.
“VINCE!” Draco screeched. “YOU’RE DISFIGURED!”
“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Draco’s eyes snapped open. He was lying in his bed, and his back hadn’t sweated so much since he had been caught stealing corn starch from his father’s underwear drawer. It was around 12:00 in the morning.
“Draco?” Vince’s sleepy voice came from another bed. “What up, yo?”
“Had…two…nightmares,” Draco said, wiping his nose. “In one, I was…having…dinner with Trelawney.”
“What about the other one?”
“I dreamed that you were handsome. Boy, that was scary.”
“You think that the thought of me being handsome is a scary thought?”
“No, Vince, I think I thought that I think I had a nightmare when I had that thought. Bah! Whatever.”
“Wait,” Vince persisted. “You think I couldn’t be handsome?”
“I’ll have to think about the answer, Vince,” Draco said. “Thinking, thinking…no.”
Vince scoffed. “I can TOO be handsome! I’m a chick magnet!”
“He means chick repellent,” Greg’s sleepy voice came from another bed.
“Girls love me!” Vince exclaimed. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to ask Furry Beard out tomorrow!”
“Furry Beard?” Draco and Greg were confused. “HAGRID?”
“No, Cho Chang!” Vince was indignant. “Remember how she’s been dressing up to avoid me? Right now she’s going the mountain hillbilly thing, so she’s all furry with a big beard and stuff.”
“Ohh…oh, right.” Draco said. “Are you sure about this? What if she turns you down?”
“She’s not GOING to,” Vince said. “I’m going to work up my charm.”
“Draco?” Greg buzzed. “I’m beeeee-coming a little nauseous.”
“Don’t worry,” Draco buzzed back. “We’ll beeeeee fine.”
“Maybe a polyjuice potion with bees wasn’t the best idea,” Greg said.
“Nonsense! This is the only way we’ll be able to follow Vince around.”
The two of them had drank the speeded-up polyjuice potion with bee wings in it. They had just transformed into bees, and they were determined to follow Vince as he asked Cho Chang on a date.
“Uuuummmmm, Draco?” Greg asked. “I thought Polyjuice Potions couldn’t transform you into animals. Why are we bees?”
“Well, that’s a good question, Greg,” Draco said. “You see, I performed this small incantation that caused…”
“Shake your wanny-fanny, funky song, funky song, shake your…” a random student’s loud and obnoxious singing drowned Draco’s voice out.
“Oh, I get it,” Greg said as Draco’s explanation ended. “That’s ingenious, Draco.”
“Thanks, Greg. Now let’s fly over to the Great Hall.”
They had to stay near the ceiling and fly quietly, as they didn’t want to be smushed by the floods of students going into the Great Hall. They caught Vince as he walked toward the Ravenclaw table, wearing a red bow tie with white polka-dots, his face set.
“Quick, down here,” Draco whispered. They hid inside Vince’s collar.
“Hi, Cho!”
…
“Cho?”
…
“I’m…uh…I’m…uh…”
“Vincent Bartholomew Crabbe,” Draco whispered.
“Uh, yeah, that.” Vince was too thick to notice that a strange buzzing voice in his collar had just answered for him. “Vincent Bartholomew Crabbe. And, uh, I know your name, ‘cause, uh, well, I do, because you’re, uh, popular, and, uh…”
“Get to the topic!” Greg hissed.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Cho?”
She finally turned around to look at him. “What?”
“Will you, uh, go, uh on a date, with, uh, me?”
She opened her mouth.
“Well, Vladdy, I hate to tell you this, but my answer is n…”
“Imperio!” Draco hissed.
Cho snapped up to a rigid position in her seat, and her eyes stared straight in front of her. “Your wish is my command!”
“Say yes,” Draco said, pleased with his extracurricular spellwork.
“YES!”
“YES!” Vince jumped.
But little did he or anyone know that Draco was in big, BIG trouble for performing an unforgivable curse.
_____
A/N: This is really random...but the other day I met a guy whose name is Mark Evans. Oh and there's this guy whose initials are T.M.R. and his first name is Tom!