A/N: Hello again, fair readers! Once again, we catch up with the subplot following Neville’s quest for power! *Sigh* I love how delightfully OOC that sounds.
At any rate, this chappie was sponsored by more CDs, spare time, and the silliness induced by not enough sleep. Also! Being able to stream radio online makes me happy. Enjoy!
Privet Drive was a very quiet street. Everyone was too busy being nosy to do anything productive. Today was no different, the square houses holding their square occupants in silence.
The only unusual thing was that today, someone in a long cloak with the hood up was walking down the street with a very purposeful gait. He was looking for number four, Privet Drive. He was sure he’d find his answers there.
Number four, Privet Drive was no different from other house, at first glance. It was just as normal and square as any of the other houses on the street, with a large square car parked in front, and a low square garden wall surrounding the property.
It was this house that the cloaked figure approached now, making his way up the walk. He arrived on the front step, and rapped his knuckles smartly on the door. He stood back and waited for an answer.
And he waited. And waited. And waited some more. He looked at his watch, then knocked again. And again he waited. He was just about to knock a third time when he heard a muffled yell from inside the house. Puzzled, he drew a wand from inside his cloak and tapped the doorknob. The door swung open, and he stepped cautiously inside.
There was a crash to his left, and he stuck his head in the doorway to the living room. Then he blinked a few times, because there was a very unusual sight there.
The house’s three occupants were back in a corner: Dudley Dursley was cowering with his back to the wall and his hands over his head, shivering like the biggest bowl of Jell-O you’ve ever seen. His mother, Petunia, had her bony arms draped around him, shouting hysterically. His father, Vernon, was the only one on his feet, his large moustache bristling madly. He was holding a broom, the end of which was set on fire, and was jabbing it at a monkey on the other side of the room.
“Back, you beast!” he bellowed at it.
“Excuse me!” Neville called over the noise. “Have you seen a man with a cow come past here?”
“What?!” Vernon waved the fiery broom at the new arrival. “No, I haven’t! I don’t see crazy things like that!”
“Says the man waving a flaming broom at a monkey.”
“Who are you?! How did you get in here?! WHY ARE YOU ASKING QUESTIONS?!!!”
“My name’s Neville Longbottom, I’m a friend of your nephew’s.”
Vernon’s eyes widened. “You’re one of THEM!” he shouted, going even more berserk. “YOU LED THIS MONKEY HERE, AND NOW YOU WANT TO SET A COW ON US!!!”
“What? No, I’m looking for the cow!”
“YOU MAD THING! GET OUT! OUT! TAKE YOUR MONKEY AND GO!!!”
The monkey let out an agitated screech and started flying around the ceiling. Petunia screamed, and Vernon started haphazardly swinging the broom, singeing the light fixture.
“Monkey?!” Neville said incredulously.
The monkey stopped, screeched with glee, and swooped down on Neville with a hug.
“Aww,” said Neville. “How did you get here, Monkey?”
“Oooh ooooh eeeh!” Monkey answered.
“Well, that would be awkward. I hope the ninjas were friendly, at least.”
“Ooooh oooh eeeh EEEEH!”
“What’s that? You know where Aribtrar went?!”
“Ooooh ooooh!” Monkey pointed out the door.
“Well then, let’s get going! Lead the way!”
Monkey ran out the door. Neville turned to the mortified Dursleys.
“Er, well…..Bye then….” And he shuffled out the door after Monkey, leaving the three looking terrified and confused. Vernon then swore, having just noticed he’d set the ceiling on fire.
A/N: There we are, chappie six! Man, that was short. Er, if I promise to make chappie seven a lot longer and have it up sooner, will you not lynch me for this one? *Grins sheepishly hopefully*
At any rate, send in your opinions, flames, hopes and fears via reviews! The fate of the world depends on it! (Note: the fate of the world may or may not depend on your review.)