Chapter 8 Farewell, Hogwarts
“I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead!”
Draco hummed to himself while he absent-mindedly changed for the Farewell Ceremony. His dormitory was more crowded than usual. Vince was reading from a spellbook, trying to place his “delightful” memory of his date with Cho (Draco) into a toilet, the closest substitute for a pensieve. Greg was, as usual, gobbling down bananas and casting peels all over the floor. Theo Snot was shaving his nonexistent armpit hair. The two other Slytherin sixth-year boys, Mojo Jojo and Mac Flint (the younger brother of Marcus Flint) were playing wizard chess, screaming “CHECKMATE” at the top of their lungs every time they made a move.
Just then someone burst into the dormitory. Draco yelped when he saw Pansy Parkinson diving onto him and knocked him flat to the ground. He jumped up and cautiously moved away from her. “H-hello, P-Pansy. What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
“Huh?” Pansy stared at him.
“N-never mind.” Draco moved farther away. “Uh, what do you need?”
“To give you your present, Draco dear!” Pansy said cheerfully, approaching him. She handed him a neatly-wrapped package. “I figured that since the Farewell Ceremony’s tonight and you’re going away tomorrow that I wouldn’t be able to see you again, so I brought you your present now. Go on, open it!”
“Note to self: find a lock for the dorm door,” Draco muttered to himself. He tore off the red-and-gold wrapping paper to find a box inside. He removed the lid of the box, reached inside, and took out a roll of toilet paper. Half of it had already been used.
“Um…” Draco looked at it, slightly shocked. “Is it radioactive or something?”
“No, silly,” Pansy laughed. “It’s your present! Do you like it?”
“Yeah, sure, it’s lovely,” Draco said quickly. “It was EXACTLY what I wanted…yeah, well, uh, thanks very much, Pansy, you have a nice day now. Go on, leave me to enjoy my nice new present in peace.”
“Okay!” she bounded off. “Merry Christmas, Draco!”
“Christmas?” Vince was shocked. “I thought that wasn’t until February 3rd.”
“CHECKMATE!!!!! Everyone knows Christmas is on May 16th, you dimwit. CHECKMATE!!!!” Mojo put in.
Draco, however, had more important things on his mind. The limp body of Cho was hidden under his covers, as he couldn’t risk anyone finding her. He and Greg were the only people at Hogwarts who knew about the Manipulemencius Spell he performed on her. No one had noticed her absence yet, as she had only gone on the date four hours ago, but someone was bound to get suspicious if she didn’t return by midnight.
There was only one thing for him to do.
“Greg,” Draco whispered, beckoning for him to come over.
Greg came to sit on the covers. “Careful!” Draco hissed. “You’re sitting on her face!”
“Oh, sorry.” Greg moved his bottom. “I thought something was a little uncomfortable.”
“I’m going to have to get back into her body again,” Draco said.
“What? Why?”
“Her friends will get suspicious if she doesn’t return,” Draco said. “I’m going to have to spend the night in her dorm as her. That way everyone will think everything’s fine.”
Greg scratched his nose. “But you can’t be her forever. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I’ll tell her friends that I’m going home to see my sick dad or something.”
“What about the teachers?”
“Bah! Stop WORRYING, Greg! Everything’s going to turn out fine!”
“But…”
“No but(t)s,” Draco pointed at his captain’s quarters. “We have to get her body out of here to transform.”
“But everyone’s in here. How’re we going to get past all these people carrying an unconscious Ravenclaw girl?”
“We’ll…” Draco scratched his head and got an idea. “We’ll wrap her up in the blanket and tell everyone that we’re taking the blanket down to laundry.”
“Do they even do laundry at Hogwarts?” Greg questioned. “I thought it was a muggle thing.”
“Oh, come on, Slytherins are the thickest people in the world! No one’s going to know.”
“O…kay.”
“Now help me wrap her.”
They face away from the other Slytherins as they quietly rolled Cho around in the blanket. It looked like a big cocoon.
“How about I carry her head, and you do the feet?”
“No, not a good idea. People’ll get suspicious. I’ll carry her on my shoulder.”
“Are you sure? She’s pretty heavy. And you never work out.”
“SHUT UP!”
Draco loaded the big roll of blankets on his shoulder. It was indeed very heavy, and he could feel the part containing Cho’s upper body bending over his shoulder. He looked simply ridiculous.
“Where’re you going, Draco?” Mac asked absent-mindedly. “CHECKMATE!”
“Oh, um, laundry,” Draco said. “I’m fighting something. Well, see you guys later!”
They carried the body out to The Room, Draco stopping and panting heavily after every thirty steps or so, wishing he’d worked out more often. When they finally reached The Room and closed the door behind them, Greg decided that they couldn’t do this.
“We couldn’t do this.”
“Why not?” Draco glared at him.
“There’s still the Farewell Ceremony. What are people going to say if you don’t show up?”
“Oh dear, I forgot.” Draco sat down and tapped at his forehead. “I know! I need a book on how to create clones.”
The bookshelf was instantly filled with books. Draco picked up a heavy spellbook and flipped through it. “This is it, Greg! Say this incantation after me: Clonis.”
“Clonis.” Greg repeated.
“When you wish to clone someone, say ‘Clonis’ and the name of the person you wish to clone. Go on, make a second Draco!”
“Okay. Clonis Draco Malfoy.”
Another Draco instantly appeared. He stood still there, not blinking, breathing or making any human sound.
Draco checked the book. “Okay, the clone can only say three sentences. You have to pick the three sentences. Um…he can say…I see a big lobster.”
“I see a big lobster.” the clone repeated.
“Second sentence: I ate your grandparents!” Greg said.
“I ate your grandparents!” the clone chirped.
“Greg!”
“What? It’s funny!”
“Well, here’s something funnier! You’ve put on a lot of weight!”
“You’ve put on a lot of weight!” the clone repeated.
“Ugh,” Draco sighed. “Look what we’ve done…he’s going to sound ridiculous!”
“I ate your grandparents,” the clone said to Draco.
“Uhh…”
***
“Welcome, all, to the Farewell Ceremony!” Dumbledore cried, raising his goblet. The entire Hall joined him by cheering and applausing. “We will proceed with our events for this evening later, but now, let the feast BEGIN-BEGIN-BEGIN-begin! (that was an echo)”
The three of them ate with the teachers at a table in the center. Greg was careful to lead the clone over to sit next to him. “Eat,” he hissed into the clone’s ear, and it automatically began to shove food in its mouth.
“Oh, there comes Professor Trelawney,” Professor Dumbledore said, pointing toward the doorway.
Professor Trelawney was indeed arriving. She was wrapped in her scarf and hurrying toward the table.
“I see a big lobster,” the clone said loudly when Trelawney reached them.
Everyone turned bright red. McGonagall snorted into her pudding, and Trelawney tried to hide her incensed look.
“You seem to be enjoying the feast, Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore mused to the clone. “Why, you must be hungry.”
“I ate your grandparents.”
Dumbledore’s eyebrows shot up. “You must be VERY hungry.”
”He’s all hopped up on allergy medicine,” Greg told the table nervously.
“Oh, poor dear. Are you quite all right, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor Sprout asked.
“You’ve put on a lot of weight.” The clone eyed her.
“Why don’t we just eat?” Dumbledore said quickly. “Mr. Malfoy seems to be on a short-tempered fuse.”
“YOU’VE put on a lot of weight,” the clone addressed Dumbledore seriously.
“Really? I thought 2 pushups a day would help bring it down.”
“I see a big lobster!” the clone teased Dumbledore’s body weight.
“That’s IT!” all the teachers ran out of the Great Hall. The students followed. Dumbledore was heard to be sobbing loudly.
“That was very mean, Draco II,” Greg said to the clone.
“I ate your grandparents!”
“UGH!” Greg grabbed the clone’s arm and dragged him out of the Great Hall. “You need a good night’s sleep.”
***
“Oh my gosh, that deserved an award on America’s Funniest Home Videos!” Marietta Edgecombe shrieked as she and Draco walked up to Ravenclaw tower.
“Heh…that Draco Malfoy sure was funny, wasn’t he?” Draco laughed unnaturally.
“I mean, I ate your grandparents? That was a classic!”
“Too bad we never got to use what…we were supposed to bring.”
“Yeah, I know. We were going to toss the water balloons at the Three Muggleteers.”
Draco breathed his silent relief.
“Yo, what up, chicas,” the Gray Lady greeted them as they approached her portraight. She was wearing heavy black eyeshadow and black nails. “How you doin’?”
“Ah, we’re cool, man,” Marietta said, sounding very ghetto at the moment. “How ‘bout ‘choo?”
“Ne’er been be’er, sista. Gimme da password, yo.”
“Goin’ Ghetto Goth,” Marietta supplied the password.
“Right on, man.” The Gray Lady opened her portrait, and the two of them climbed in.
“Oh, guess what, Chonnie? I rearranged our dorm today. You are so going to love it.”
“I’m sure I…will.”
Marietta pushed the door open. Draco’s jaw fell.
There were pink, white and blue ponies everywhere. Big, bright and colorful flowers covered the walls, along with a thousand pink and white hearts. The bedsheets were all pink, and the only masculine thing was Cho’s pillow (A Hello Kitty Action Figure).
“Isn’t it the cutest thing in the world, girl?”
“Er…yeah. Real cute.”
Marietta giggled. “Anyway, Janet, Millie, you and I are having a little slumber party tonight. We’re going to put on makeup, play Barbies, do each other’s hair and nails, and we’ll play Truth or Dare.”
“I’m really looking forward to it.”
***
“Ugh!” the Death Eaters landed with heavy thuds on woodtile floor. Lucius Malfoy leapt up from the floor and stood up. He looked around the vacant room until he heard a voice behind him.
“Welcome, servants.”
“Master!” Lucius gasped. They gaped at Voldemort, who had bright red skin. “Whatever happened to you?” (in the words of clone Draco Malfoy: I see a big lobster.)
“I fell asleep in the tanning salon,” Voldemort growled. “But never mind that…you have just arrived at our newest secret headquarters. Memorize the address carefully: Number Eleven Grimmauld Place, London. Now…on to discuss our…or rather, MY newest evil plan to take over the world.”
“I remember it started with butte,” Crabbe piped up.
“SILENCE! CRUCIO!”
Crabbe jerked and twisted on the floor from the painful impact of the Cruciatus Curse.
“Wait,” Voldemort said suddenly. “It DOES start with butte. Sorry, Crabbe.”
“I-it’s all right,” Crabbe moaned as he got up.
“What does butte mean, master?” Andy asked.
“What does butte mean? Butte’s not the entire plan, Antonin. There’s more than just butte. Somebody make me stop saying butte.”
“Silencio?” Crabbe suggested.
“BE QUIET!”
“Oof!” Crabbe got whacked in the stomach by a giant frying pan that Voldemort got from the kitchen counter.
“Anyway…my plan DID start with butte, which is the first part of Butter the Brownies, but since I was starved at the time, my brain went senile and I thought out this crazy plan. But now I have a brand new, improvised plan!”
“What is it?”
“You know that new foreign exchange program going on at Hogwarts?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we’re going to put the Imperious Curse on those foreign students coming into Hogwarts, and we’ll use them as tools to get into Hogwarts and take over it. Isn’t that a great plan?”
A cricket chirped in the distance.
“Well,” Voldemort said, ignoring the silence. “Let’s have dinner. Sheldon! SHELDON!”
“Mas’er?” a man in a checkered apron came over to them. He was short, stout, and slightly balding with a big red nose. “Yessir, what do you need, sir?” he regarded the Death Eaters and exclaimed, “My, mas’er, you didn’t tell me we was having some guests tonight! I s’pose we’ll manage with three turkeys, then.”
“Who are you?” Bellatrix questioned.
The short man jumped around as though surprised and shook her hand energetically. “’Ello, ‘ello, my good lady! I must say, how particularly vile and revolting you are looking today!”
“Why, thank you, sir.” Bellatrix smiled at him. “It means so much to hear a nice compliment.”
“Sheldon, get your butt out of here if you don’t want it kicked,” Voldemort said through gritted teeth.
“Aw, come on now, you don’t mean that, do you, Tommy?” Sheldon turned to him. He turned back to the Death Eaters and said, “Don’t mind him, he’s really a darling soul usually. Tommy-boy, I promise you we will find that teddy bear.”
“His name is BOBBY!” Voldemort yelled. “Go make those turkeys!”
Sheldon walked off with a shrug. Seething, Voldemort turned to the Death Eaters. “He’s senile.”
“Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you, tomorrow…” Sheldon burst into song in the next room.
***
“Hey, Draco, you were hilarious at the ceremony,” Mojo told the clone.
“You’ve put on a lot of weight.” The clone responded clearly.
“Where?” Mojo gasped and hastened to the bathroom.
“Wow, Draco,” Theo Snot said. “You’ve been talking really weird lately. Did you eat something bad?”
“I ate your grandparents.”
“Come on, go wash up for bed,” Greg muttered to the clone.
“I see a big lobster.”
“GO!”
The clone went inside the washroom.
AN ETERNITY LATER
“Draco! What the heck is taking you so long?” Greg burst into the washroom. The clone was standing there, staring into the toilet. “I see a big lobster.”
“Can’t you say something else?” Greg yelled.
“You’ve put on a lot of weight!”
Greg shoved the clone headfirst into the toilet. “Have fun with Moaning Myrtle!”
“I…ate…your…GRANDPARENTS!” the clone yelled as it disappeared into the U-bend.
“And good riddance,” Greg muttered as he washed his hands and returned to the dorm.
***
“Oh, girls, I brought the CUTEST Barbie Malibu Dream House EVER!” Millie squealed.
“NO WAY!” Janet responded. “I got the talking Barbie townhouse!”
“NOOOOO WAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!”
“What about you, Chonnie?” Marietta asked Draco. “Do you have your Barbie accessories?”
“Yeah.” Draco reached under Cho’s bed and pulled out a box. He had taken an opportunity to explore her room and had discovered all of Cho’s barbie things. There was a Barbie vacation home, a Ken doll with a flattened head and a twisted arm (apparently Barbie’s new boyfriend, Blane or Dwayne or whatever his name is had engaged him in a fight over the plastic-headed internal-organless blonde and had gotten the better of him), and piles of clothes.
“Excellent!” the other three girls squealed. “Let’s play house!”
“Yay!” Millie pulled out a baby doll from her box. “This is going to be the baby boy. What should we name him?”
“Let’s call him X-man,” Draco suggested.
The other three stared at him. “That’s no name for a baby boy!” Marietta exclaimed. “You might as well call him the teenage mutant Ninja turtle!”
“That’s not too bad,” Draco shrugged.
“Boy, you’re acting kind of strange tonight, Chonnie,” Janet said. “Well, girls, should we name him Harry, Michael, or Terry?”
“You mean after Harry Potter, Michael Corner or Terry Boot?” Millie squealed.
“Exactly!” they burst into wild giggles.
“Why don’t you name him after Draco Malfoy?” Draco suggested.
“After that hairball?” Marietta said disdainfully.
“I know!” Millie exclaimed. “Draco Malfoy is SUCH a slut!”
“I heard his dad’s spending time in the slammer,” Janet said.
“His family’s no good,” Marietta said. “I heard they eat each other’s toenails.”
“Eww! I heard that they steal the toddlers’ milk at day care centers.”
“That’s so inhumane!” Janet exclaimed. Then much to Draco’s relief, she said, “Well, let’s not talk about Draco Malfoy anymore. We still have to name the baby boy, remember?”
“How about Pinhead Larry?”
“That’s good. Now Chonnie, you get the mum…Hermione, and Millie, you get the dad…Harry. He looks all messed up because he’s just gone to Wal-Mart during a major diaper-sellout. I’ll get baby Pinhead Larry and the big boy Ryan, and Marie can get Ron …because he’s in a love triangle with Hermione and Harry.”
“Wow, Janet, you are so creative,” Draco said.
“Thanks. Now let’s began. We can use the townhouse.”
Hermione stands in the kitchen, making rolls for dinner. Harry bursts into the kitchen, covered in bandages and major injuries.
Hermione: (gasp) Harry, what happened?
Harry: I came back from Wal-Mart during a major diaper-sellout.
Hermione: (tonelessly) Oh, no. Now Larry’s going to have a rash.
Harry: I did get corn starch, though.
Hermione: Harry?
Harry: Hermione?
Hermione: That’s flour.
Harry: (laughs nervously and scratches scalp) Well, uh, Hermione dear, uh, you see, uh, I really don’t have any experience in things of this matter, ESPECIALLY IF I DON’T KNOW IF IT’S MY OWN BABY!
Hermione: What are you saying?
Harry: What do you think I’m saying?
Hermione: I think you’re saying what I think you’re saying!
Harry: What do you think I think I’m saying?
Hermione: I think you think that I think you’re thinking what I think you’re saying!
Ron comes in.
Ron: Hey, what’s up, everybody?
Harry: (points to Ron) YOU!
Ron: I swear I didn’t mean to do it!
Hermione: (gasp) RON!
Harry: (gasp) RON!
Ron: I’m sorry!
Harry: I cannot believe you would do something like that!
Ron: (breaks down and starts crying) I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to do it!
Hermione: How could you tell him?
Ron: He was wearing a threatening look!
Harry: So you admit it, Ron?
Ron: Yes, I do. Please forgive me, Harry. I really didn’t mean to do it!
Harry: Wait. What did you do?
Ron: I ATE THE LAST CUPCAKE IN THE REFRIDGERATOR!
(Ron runs out of the house howling)
“That’s completely ridiculous,” Draco interrupted. “Why did you incorporate a happy family scene into a lamenting, frilly soap opera?”
“Why don’t we just move on to makeup?” Janet said with a sigh.
***
“I feel ABSOLUTELY ridiculous,” Draco muttered. He was wearing 60 POUNDS of makeup, which was at least 100 lbs less than the amount that the other girls were wearing. His nails were practically sweating from the thick sparkling nail polish. All he wanted to do was die.
“Now…gather ‘round in a circle, girls,” Marietta turned off the lights, and they sat down in a circle with Marietta holding a flashlight. “Now, we’ll play Truth or Dare, and whoever’s turn it is, they take the flashlight. Get ready to tell your DEEPEST, DARKEST SECRETS. Whoooooooo…”
“Marietta? Please, just get on with it.”
“All right,” Marietta reluctantly agreed. She grinned mischieviously at Janet. “Janet, truth or dare?”
“Dare.” Janet said.
“All right. I dare you to lick Chonnie’s feet for two minutes straight.”
“Ew!” Draco cried, hugging his feet to himself.
“It’s okay, Chonnie,” Janet said. “I really hope you washed it.”
(Draco: WASHED IT?! What am I, some sort of hygiene-crazed maniac?!)
Janet tugged Draco/Cho’s foot and licked it. Draco grimaced when he felt the wet tongue on his bare feet. He decided to blank out for two minutes.
After two minutes of black-out, Janet turned to Draco. “Your turn, Chonnie,” she said. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Draco said immediately, not wanting to lick feet.
“Hmm…” Janet considered for a moment. “Who’s hotter: Johnny Depp or Gary Oldman?”
***
Draco, Vince and Greg’s bags were already packed and loaded onto the Knight Bus when they arrived at the school platform. Everyone was there. “Bye, Draco!” “Have a nice time!” “See you guys soon!”
Señor Snape was blowing his nose on a large red hankerchief and waving misty-eyed at the Three Muggleteers. Professor McGonagall wore a sort of dazed grin on her face. And Dumbledore was waving at them as well. “Have a nice trip!” he hollered to them.
“It’s time,” Mrs. Royal said. They climbed aboard (Draco had stored Cho’s body in one of his trunks containing bottles of ink) and waved at their fellow students.
Ernie stepped hard on the gas. They drove onto the road and fast into the countryside.
“Goodbye! Goodbye!” Vince called, waving at Hogwarts.
Draco crossed his arms. This was going to be a very fateful trip.
He just hoped that the bottles of ink wouldn’t break and dye Cho Chang’s body a different color. That would be very hard to wash off.