Chapter 7 Vincent’s Date
Disclaimer- again, this is too insane to be true, so I don’t own anything except for the random spell Draco used.
A/N: had writer’s block on this chapter…
“Okay, so does this mean that you’re going to be controlling Cho the whole time with the Imperious Curse?” Greg asked as he and Draco walked into Potions on Thursday morning. They were, as usual, dreadfully late, but Señor Snape only chided them lightheartedly when they came in and took seats in the front since it was one of their last Hogwarts lessons. Vince was slouched in the leftmost seat in the front desk, a dreamy expression on his face.
“If that’s what it takes to accomplish my mission,” Draco answered.
“What IS your mission, Draco?” Greg asked, taking out a banana from the front of his robes.
“My mission is to make Cho Chang absolutely unbearable,” Draco said smugly. “She will burp, slouch, be fratulent, and do every embarrassing and disgusting thing ever known to humans. That way he’ll get REALLY sick of her and dump her.”
“Isn’t that kind of mean?” Greg asked.
“Yep. Hey, what do you think we’ll be doing in class today?”
“I don’t know.” Greg finished peeling the banana and tossed the peel onto the floor in the aisle. “Guess what?” he said excitedly. “I came up with a new invention.”
“Uh-huh?” Draco looked at the banana peel.
“I’ve invented some sort of enchantment that makes a banana peel slippery.”
“Fascinating.”
***
(12:00 AM Wednesday midnight)
Lucius Malfoy looked at the masses of Death Eaters gathered in his cell. He grinned at them, pleased at their undying devotion to the Dark Lord. “Welcome,” he said. “To the Death Eaters Azkabanian Convention of 1996. I am Lucius F. A. T. H. O. G. Malfoy, your chairman for this event. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big round of welcome to…Vanna White!”
Show-biz music began to play as all the lights focused on Vanna White, who came out from behind a velvet curtain and waved at the applause, cheering and wolf whistles. “Good evening, everyone!”
“Vanna White?” Andy Dolohov muttered into Bellatrix’s ear incredulously.
“Shh,” Bellatrix whispered back. “I think Wheel of Fortune is starting.”
Just then, Macnair, dressed in a sparkling silver two-piece swimsuit, pulled the curtains apart to reveal a giant board. The Death Eaters whooped and cheered (NOT at Macnair). Macnair gave a small bow and retired from the stage.
“All right, we’re gonna cut to the chase. I got a muggle television gig right after this,” Vanna said. She marched over to the board, flipping each…er…flippy piece. The Death Eaters chanted each letter out after she revealed it.
“B!”
“U!”
“T!”
“T!”
“E!”
“HALT!” A shrill voice hissed.
All the lights suddenly came on. Lucius took one look at the source of the voice and nearly fainted dead on the floor.
It was the dementors.
***
“All right, this stinger in my butt is really annoying,” Greg grumbled as he and Draco flew toward the Ravenclaw common room. “What if it stings me?”
“I think that new brain of yours is deteriorating,” Draco said irritably.
“Draco?”
“Yeah?”
“How come we brewed a Polyjuice Potion in just thirty minutes, while usually it takes a month?”
“That’s another interesting question, Greg. You see, I…”
“Oh I’m a Lady who is gray, and I really like checkers, I want a Transformer’s for an ideal Christmas present. Also I like My Pretty Ponies they are so pretty, and I eat at Burger King to get A Series of Unfortunate Events toys!” the Gray Lady’s random outburst of song to the notes of Yankee Doodle drowned out Draco’s voice.
“Wow, that’s cool, Draco,” Greg said after Draco’s explanation ended. “I have another question. Why do random people always sing loudly whenever you give me an explanation?”
“Well, you see, Greg…”
“Come on, yo, gimme the password already!” the Gray Lady interrupted. She was wearing a red cap, a Fat Albert shirt, jeans held up loosely by silver clinking chains, and black Ugg boots. Rumour was that all the Ravenclaws referred to her as the “Goth Geek”.
“Wait,” Draco said incredulously, “you can see us?”
“Of course I can. Y’all aren’t Ravenclaws, I can tell. They stopped letting bees in after the famous incident in 1975 when this first-year beetle who was supposed to be in Slytherin bit the Sorting Hat, turned the Hat senile, and got Sorted into Hufflepuff by accident. Looong story. ‘K, whachu guys doin’ here?”
“We’re the New Jersey delegates who are late for signing the Declaration of Independence?”
“Nice try. The New Jersey delegates have already arrived. New Hampshire hasn’t, though.”
“Oh, did I say New Jersey? I meant New Hampshire.”
“I thought so. Come in, John Hancock and George Washington are waiting for you in the back room.” The Gray Lady swung inward, and Draco and Greg flew into the room.
“Phew, that was random,” Greg said. “I had no idea you were so good at History, though.”
“Me neither. But that Gray Lady was definitely senile. Come on, let’s find Cho.”
She wasn’t in the common room, so Draco and Greg flew up to the girls’ dormitories. They squeezed through a crack and entered the seventh year dorm. Cho was sitting on her bed, doing her hair.
“Apply a small amount of hair gel to your top layer,” she read from a set of instructions.
“I wore hair gel before the 3rd HP movie,” Draco reminisced to Greg.
“I wonder why Alfonso didn’t let you wear it again.”
”So do I. Anyway,” Draco said. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The Polyjuice Potion wore off. They turned back into themselves.
“Ahh!” Cho screamed, seeing two random bees sprout into large Sixth year smelly Slytherins. She fainted on the floor from shock.
“Ah, that saves me the trouble of Stunning her,” Draco said proudly. “Now, I’m not going to use the Imperious Curse this time. I found something better.”
“Yeah? Let’s see it.”
“Manipulemencia!” Draco said, pointing his wand at Cho. He felt himself turning into a ghost-like figure and flowing into Cho’s body. The next second, he was a dark-haired seventh year Ravenclaw girl, and his blonde-haired body lay a useless lump (as always) on the floor.
“Whoa, way cool,” Greg said. “So you’re in her body now?”
“Yep,” Draco said. Even his voice sounded different. It was higher, sweeter, and prettier. He stood up. “Okay, I’m going to vanish my body. Evan…” he suddenly sneezed, so it sounded like “Echoneso!”
His body disappeared.
“Uh-oh,” Greg said. “I think you sent it somewhere.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Draco said. “This spell wears off after about an hour. And then you can’t perform it again until twenty-four hours later. Come on, let’s meet Vince.”
Greg began to walk but then stopped. “Wait. You can’t do this.”
“What? Greg, you’re chickening out NOW?”
“No, no, not that! Your hair is all nice and everything. You’re supposed to be a SLUT!”
“Oh, yeah, thanks for reminding me. Okay, let’s mess this girl up!”
“Okay. How about a coating of…CHOCOLATE SAUCE?”
“Uh…no, I don’t think so. Wait, wait. Get the hair gel.”
“Getting the hair gel.” Greg picked up the bottle.
“Put it all over my hair!”
“Are you serious?”
“DO I LOOK SERIOUS?”
“I don’t know, you’re a girl!”
“JUST PUT THE BLOODY GEL ON!”
“O-okay.” Greg squirted a drop or two of hair gel on his hand. “MORE!” Draco yelled.
“Why don’t we just use the entire bottle?” Greg unscrewed the top and dumped the whole bottle over Draco’s head. Draco grimaced as he felt the cold, sticky, gooey, disgusting liquid wash over his scalp. This was a tiny bit more than what he was used to wearing.
“What next?” Greg asked.
“Goth,” Draco said, inspired by the Gray Lady. “She should wear black.”
“She IS wearing black. Black robes. See?” Greg shoved a corner of Cho’s robes up to Draco’s nose.
“No, just black is not enough.” Draco decided. He touched the robes with his wand. Instead of black with red polka-dots and stripes, the robes turned into a French maid costume. “Oh MY …a FRENCH MAID COSTUME????!!!!!!”
“Looks like your wand malfunctioned,” Greg said, snickering.
Steaming, Draco touched the costume with his wand again. This time it turned into a gangster outfit, complete with metal accessories, a bandanna around dyed purplish-green hair, and a black shirt that said GOIN’ GHETTO.
“Better,” Draco commented. “Anything else?”
“You’re missing a tattoo,” Greg said. He conjured a marker and drew a Barbie doll with devil’s ears, hoofs and pitchfork on Draco’s (or Cho’s) arm.
“Perfect! Come on, we have to go.”
They ran down to Hogsmeade and found Vince in the Three Broomsticks. He was wearing a bright green tuxedo with a clashing bright orange tie and a black shirt underneath.
“Someone’s been mooooussing,” Greg whispered. “Good luck, buddy. I’ll be with Theo in the next booth if you guys need us.”
“Cool. Later.” They separated. Draco walked over to Vince, careful to slightly sway in his walk. “Hi, Vincent,” he said as he approached Vince.
Vince was sweating. “Gg…hh…j…kk….ll….djdhehwbheuj,” he stuttered.
Draco pretended not to hear. “Let’s go in, shall we?”
“Ysbsbvebewwop,” Vince stammered nonsense again. They walked in and sat down at a booth next to the one occupied by Greg and Theo Snot. (or was it Theodore Nott?)
“Hello, m’dears,” Madam Rosmerta said. “What can I get you?”
“A Burger King Kid’s Meal,” Draco blurted, inspired by the Gray Lady’s song. “With Lemony Snicket’s toy thing.”
“I beg your pardon?” Madam Rosmerta’s eyebrows went up.
“Hot cocoa will be fine,” Draco said. “Oh, and how about spaghetti? Oh yeah, and get brussel sprouts, broccoli and carrot sticks for him. He’s dieting.” In a loud whisper, he told Madam Rosmerta, “Which he should be. He’s INCREDIBLY overweight.”
Vince turned pink. “Just…a little…” he mumbled.
“And get me a couple of garlic and onions,” Draco said. He was going to hate this, he knew it.
Madam Rosmerta placed their orders in front of them. “E-enjoy,” she said uncertainly.
“Thanks.” Draco placed one of his feet on the table. “Ow, my feet are sweating like a pig. Mind if I air out my socks?”
“In front of my face?”
“Yeah, that’s how I do it at home.”
“Wow!” Vince was excited. “A girl is going to air out her socks right in front of my face! How cool is that?”
Draco tugged his sock off and dropped it in Vince’s broccoli.
“So…” Vince said. “What do you like to do in your spare time…Cho?”
“I like to play b-ball with my homies,” Draco said, dipping the sock in Vince’s broccoli and waving it under Vince’s nose. “Of course, other times…” he took off his jacket and scratched his armpit. “I like to smoke, drink, and take part in illegal activities. But enough about me. What about you…Victor?”
“Vincent,” Vince corrected.
“That’s what I said. Victor. Anyway…” Draco began to clean between his toes. “What do you like to do?”
“Well, uh, I, uh, also like to play b-ball with my, uh, homies. But I’m good at Wizard Chess.”
Draco took Vince’s knife and began to clip his toenails. The droppings all fell in Vince’s hot cocoa. “These taste really good with cocoa,” he assured Vince.
Vince gulped down his cocoa. “Tastes like nail polish,” he said.
“I know.” Draco grinned. He removed his foot from the table and grabbed a handful of spaghetti, stuffing it all into his pie hole. “Mmm! Man, this is good.” He now had an orangish moustache. Taking a sip from his soda, he burped loudly. “Oh, excuse me! I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Usually I can burp a lot louder than this.”
“I’m having the best time ever,” Vince sighed dreamily as Draco proceeded to wipe the meatballs with his hair gel and swallowed them.
***
The Death Eaters were frozen to the ground. A chill came over their bodies as the dementors moved closer.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” the nearest one spoke. As he lowered his hood, the Death Eaters recognized him as the leprechaun-obsessed Irish-dancing coach. However, he wasn’t his happy, Barney-the-green-dinosaur usual self. His face was contorted with cold fury, one that looked very familiar…
It was the exact same look the Dark Lord always wore when he was displeased.
“You…” Bellatrix gasped. “YOU’RE the Head Dementor?”
“That’s right.”
“But…but…” Lucius sputtered. “I can explain!”
“Explain?” the HD (Head Dementor) looked at him coldly. “No, no need of that, Mr. Malfoy. I can see plainly as day what is going on here.”
“Y-you can?” Lucius gulped. Oh, the agony of being tossed into a pot of love!
“Yes, I can!” the HD thundered. “I’ve been watching you, Malfoy. You know why I got that 50% off hideous leprechaun suit from Rich & Macy’s for the Thanksgiving sale? And why I signed up for disgraceful and inappropriate so-called Irish dancing?”
“Because your parole officer told you to?”
“Well, partly,” the HD muttered. “Said it would lighten my spirits and help me make new friends… the alternative was to ride in the Macy’s thanksgiving parade…I WILL NOT BE DISTRACTED! You know why I did all those STUPENDOUS things?”
“Uh-uh.” Lucius shook his head.
“So I could have a better excuse of watching you, you dimwit! You were my science fair project, Malfoy. You had a problem, a hypothesis, materials and procedures, observation and conclusion! You were a gold mine of data! YOU WERE PLANNING TO XEROX MY BUTT, WEREN’T YOU?!”
“Aha! I knew it!” Nancy the Dementor suddenly cried.
HD swirled around. “W-what are you talking about?” he suddenly sounded nervous.
Nancy pointed a shaking finger at him. “You’re-you’re…” she cried dramatically, tears streaking from her hideous and contorted face. “A SCIENCE GEEK!”
“NOOOOOO! It’s not what you think!” HD cried, but Nancy had turned around, sobbing, and fled from the cell. The HD chased after her without hesitation, yelling, “NANCY! WAAAAIT! I CAN EXPLAAAAAIN!”
The dementors looked at each other. “What do we do now?” one of them asked.
“You’re supposed to do whatever your Head does,” Lucius reminded. “Remember? The Dementors Interest Club Handbook, Part III, Section B, Number 234?”
“Oh, yeah!” realization dawned on them. “NANCY! WAAAAIT! I CAN EXPLAAAAAIN!” they yelled as one and chased the HD and Nancy out the cell.
“LET’S GET OUTTA THIS MADHOUSE!” Andy Dolohov yelled, and the Death Eaters all scrambled out of the cell and to the edge of the island, where they found that they were surrounded by water.
“What do we do?” Bellatrix wailed.
“Look! A boat!” Macnair yelled, pointing at a brown object under a tree.
“He’s right!” Lucius ran to it. “I think it’s big enough for all of us. Come on, jump in, everybody!”
They jumped in…
And heard a great whirring noise around them.
Everything began to spin and twirl. Lucius suddenly realized that…
“IT’S A PORTKEY!” he yelled.
***
“Victor.”
“Vincent.”
“That’s what I said. Victor. Wouldn’t you agree that Vincent is the most hideous name in the world?”
“Uh…huh.”
“I know! It’s so retarded! What kind of sick name is Vincent?”
Vince laughed unnaturally. “I know. Anyway, what food do you like?”
“Well…” Draco took a bite of the onion and leaned closer to Vince, breathing venomous onion breath all over his face. “I certainly like onions.”
“…”
“And…” Draco gulped the onion down and took out a rotten egg from his robes. “Don’t you just love rotten eggs? They have the best taste in the world!”
“…”
Draco popped the egg into his mouth.
[inside Draco/Cho’s body]
Stomach: AAAHHH! We can’t take any more disgusting food!
Rotten egg: mwhahaahahahah!
Esophagus: Arr-arr, captain! The ship! She’s going to blow!
Stomach: Five”four”three”two”one”
[stomach explodes]
[outside]
“I…CAN’T…TAKE…IT…ANY…MORE…”
Draco threw up all over Vince’s body.
“I’m so sorry!” he gasped at Vince, who was covered from head to toe in rotten egg, onions, garlic, macaroni and cheese from three weeks before, mustard from a year before, and many other things smelling so foul that people in Siberia, China, and the United States fainted dead when they sniffed the incredible disgusting odor. As for Madam Rosmerta and all of the other couples in the Three Broomsticks…well, let’s just say that they’re not very…er…well.
Vince, who was still stunned, looked up at Draco speechlessly.
“Thank you.” He said finally.
Draco groaned. He couldn’t take it anymore. “Wow, you sure do take a throw-up well.” He cut the cheese with a noise as great as the collapse of a 44-story building and an odor greater than the one that he had just created. “But not as well as my boyfriend.”
“You have a boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Michael Corner. And also there’s this other guy…”
“Cho?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“…” Draco wanted to pound himself on the head.
“But…”
“…” Draco just wanted to die.
“I don’t think it’s working out.”
“…” Draco’s head popped up. “W-why?” he asked, stunned.
“Because…you’re turning blonde. I don’t like blondes.”
Draco looked down at his hair. “Oh my gosh…” he whispered. It really WAS turning blonde.
He was turning back to his old self!
Vince had just broken up with him/Cho!
“Well…that’s okay. Gotta go!” he grabbed his purse and tore out of the place.
***
“So how was the date?” Greg asked innocently as he came around the booth and looked at Vince, who was still dripping from vomit.
“I thought you died from the odor,” Vince said, surprised.
“Yeah, well, I had my gas mask on,” Greg said casually. He took a banana out from his pants and ate it. “As I said, how was the date?”
“She was awesome. I mean, she felt right at home with me!”
“So how come you two didn’t hit it off?”
“She turned blonde. I don’t like blondes.”
“Why not?”
“Hello? Haven’t you read all those blonde muggle jokes?”
“Were they required reading?”
“No, I just happened to pick them up at the library. Here’s one: She’s so blonde that she thinks a quarterback is a refund.”
“Oh! You mean those. I got one. She thinks Taco Bell is a phone company.”
“She stared at the orange juice for twenty minutes because it said ‘Concentrate’.”
“She starved to death at Kroger!”
“That…wasn’t…funny.” Vince stuck out his tongue. “Anyway, I got to go change. See ya, man.”
“Later, brother.”
***
Draco transformed completely back into himself when he was in his secret hideout (The Room), and Cho’s body was hanging limply in his arms. The problem was that his other body that had gone limp and lost when his spirit left it was still limp and lost, and he didn’t know how to find and get back into his other body or how to revive the Cho body which seemed to be spiritless. He had been too busy locating the spell to know how to change back.
He looked down absent-mindedly and gasped.
Frolickin’ Merlin!
His upper body was himself, with slick blonde hair and pointy chin, while his lower body was Cho’s, which was wearing the most hideous FRENCH MAID COSTUME!
CRASH!
Someone crashed into the room through the window glass. Draco looked up to see some Ministry of Magic workers.
“All right, young man,” one of them said sternly. “You’re under arrest.”
“For what?” Draco cried.
“I don’t know, they never tell me. They don’t even give me DOUGHNUTS!”
“I’ll take it from here, Howie,” another worker said. “You’re Draco Malfoy?”
“Yessir.”
The worker eyed him curiously. “What’s with the French maid costume?”
“I don’t know!”
“Well, take it off! It’s damaging to the eye!”
“I can’t!” Draco wailed. “I’m not wearing any pants!”
“You’re serious?”
“YES, I’M SERIOUS! NOW TELL ME WHAT I’M ARRESTED FOR!”
“You are arrested for casting the Imperious Spell on Cho Chang, a fellow Hogwarts student.” The worker looked at Cho’s limp body. “Ballerina-dancin’ Merlin! You’ve gone and killed her!”
“No!” Draco cried. “At least I…I don’t think so,” he faltered.
“Is she alive, then?”
“I don’t know.” Draco poked her body. It didn’t stir.
“Well then, I’m afraid we’ll have to…”
“Wait!” Draco cried, getting an idea. “You can’t arrest me!”
“And why in Tutu-wearin’ Merlin’s name can’t I?”
“Because I’m only HALF Draco Malfoy!”
“You’re WHAT?”
“Okay, look, I did this spell, and it turned me into her, but then when the spell wore off it only turned half of me back, and the other half is still her! Get it?”
“I think so.” The worker furrowed his eyebrows. “But how do we know for sure that you’re only half you?”
“Don’t even go there,” Draco warned.
“All right.” The worker shrugged. “But what about the girl?”
“She was a prep,” Draco said.
“Okay. Bye then.” The workers rode their brooms out of the window and into the sky.
Draco sat down and considered three things. One: How to get out of this freakish half-boy half-girl body. Two: How to revive Cho. Three: How to find his lost body.
And some other things:
Five: How to get out of going to a muggle school. Six: How to cure Greg’s creepy banana-crazed maniac state. Seven: How to go to the farewell ceremony without looking like a freak moron.
“AAAAHHH!” he moaned and fell back on a cushion. This is just TOO MUCH!
A/N: Voldemort’s evil plan spells out B-U-T-T-E-R T-H-E B-R-O-W-N-I-E-S. Very random!