Eee... not sure if I'm supposed to do this yet, but... I'm gonna.

The First Annual Hogwarts' Pet Show

Many people figured that Dumbledore would stay at the school and do his Headmastering forever, but that all changed after his more recent birthday party. He overheard two students discussing how old he was, which triggered a strange reaction in the old gentleman.

“Exactly how old is he this year?” the youth questioned. His friend grinned and shrugged. “Oh, about a million, I guess. He’s wicked old.”

Dumbledore knew he WAS in fact wicked old, and decided then and there that it was time to take a retirement and start acting his age. Of course, Dumbledore didn’t feel that old, so his version of acting his age was dying his hair orange, shaping it into a Mohawk, and buying a motor scooter. “Call me Skippy!” he shouted happily as he skated off into the sunset. The staff remaining at Hogwarts took a quick vote and Zymurgy was quickly put in as the new Headmistress.

“My first act as Queen of the school…” Zymurgy began.

“Ahem, Miss Zymurgy… you’re the Headmistress, not queen,” McGonagall whispered to her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione hopped to her feet and climbed onto the table. “Zymurgy is our queen! Zymurgy is our queen. Zymurgy is our queen.” She attempted to get the crowd to sing along with her, but after saying it 45 times successively, Hermione sat down dejectedly and crawled beneath the table. “I stink.”

“Ahem,” Zymurgy gave Hermione and McGonagall equally poisonous stares before continuing. “As I was saying, my first act as Headmistress of the school will be to hold the first annual Hogwarts Pet Show. All students are encouraged to owl their parents and to enter their fascinating and varied pets. I don’t think I need to remind you that there are to be no manticores or basilisks at this Pet Show.” She said this quite pointedly to Hagrid, whose face fell.

“What’s a Pet Show?” Snape asked. Everyone ignored him.

“Now, see… all of this will have to be cut from the screen version,” Steve Kloves whispered in the author’s ear. “It’s all nonsense introductory stuff.”

“I’ll bite you and not feel a bit bad,” Cassirin responded before continuing with the story. She wanted to finish in time to go watch The Wizard of Oz.

***

The day of the Pet Show was bright and sunny, but most days in this author’s fics are bright and sunny ‘cause she likes it that way. The staff decided to hold the show on the Quidditch Pitch simply because all those animals in the castle might make a huge mess. McGonagall, Flitwick, and Hagrid were the judges and none of them were particularly excited about their roles in the proceedings.

The highlight thus far, other than the shocking number of krups and nifflers, was the snack table set up on one side of the pitch. “At least Molly Weasley was willing to cook for us,” Flitwick mumbled around a cupcake he’d had to snatch from Harry’s watchful eye.

“I won’t cook. I won’t cook,” Mrs. Weasley’s shouts were heard echoing around the pitch.

“Mrs. Weasley didn’t cook this,” Harry looked up from his vigilant guard of the fodder. “She was asked to, but she’s on strike. Something about spark plugs and scotch tape. Anyway, Cassirin provided the cupcakes… she IS the Queen of Cupcaketopia.” Someone approached the table and Harry wielded a green stapler. “Halt. Who goes there? Don’t make me staple you!”

“What’s a staple?” Snape scratched his head.

The three judges rolled their eyes and left Harry to his defenses. The first pets were rather boring, so they moved on to the bigger pets in the next row. “Erm… Dobby?” The house elf stood next to a box wearing thick rubber gloves. He had a frightened look on his face and he kept rubbing his gloved hands against his arms. He was also looking rather underdressed considering he had a sham sitting on his head and a hot pink mini skirt on – but that was it.

“Well… why don’t you tell us all about your pet, Dobby?” Flitwick said gently. McGonagall looked at him with admiration in her eyes. He was such a kind chap.

“They is…” His eyes darted around nervously. “They is socks. They is dirty dirty socks.”

“Socks?” Hagrid repeated. “Socks isn’t a dangerous animal, Dobby. ‘ow can you bring socks to a pet show?”

“This is being DANGEROUS,” Dobby insisted. “Winky is being dead because of them. We isn’t washing them and they is growing green fur.”

“The socks aren’t dangerous, Dobby,” Madame Pomfrey showed up with a tube of gel and a severe frown on her face. “You have athlete’s foot, and its time for your medication.”

The three judges moved away from Dobby and Flitwick reminded himself to go see Madame Pomfrey about that gel. He was sure Dobby hadn’t been wearing flip flops in the shower.

“That will definitely have to go,” Steve Kloves whispered again in the author’s ear as she hummed “We’re Off to See the Wizard”. “Or maybe we’ll make it really exciting. The socks rise up and eat the house elves. Socks take over the world.”

“That’s a different fic. Shut up.”

Next they came upon Luna, who seemed to be without a pet but had a blanket wrapped around her neck. She was flapping her arms and staring at the sky.

“Luna? Where’s your… pet?”

“I am my own pet,” she replied dreamily. “I’m a fruit bat. I’m starving. All they gave us to eat today was puppy chow, and I’m not a puppy. I’m not. I’m a fruit bat.”

“Yeah,” Seamus shouted and leaped in the air behind her. “And I’m a pretty, pretty girl.” He continued to shout it, jumping around, and laughing hysterically.

“Finnegan! Be quiet! The socks might stampede,” Ron poked him with his elbow. The boy didn’t listen, and suddenly people around them had pulled their wands. Ron barely managed to duck and cover before Finnegan was blasted several feet in the air. He came down and began to perform tumbleturns, which the author can only assume is something like a somersault.

“What’s a somersault?” Snape did a cartwheel and McGonagall slapped him.

Now that Seamus had stopped behaving like a psycho, the judges were able to turn back to Luna. The girl had disappeared however. Looking around, they found her lurking over by the snack table. Harry was shaking his stapler at her.

“Yes, we have no bananas. Go away!”

“But I’m hungry. I’m a fruit bat!” She made a high pitched squeal.

“Luna… Luna dear,” Hagrid patted her awkwardly on the back in an effort to calm her down. She nearly fell over from the effort. “You’re a very clever girl. Not a fruit bat.”

She looked confused for a moment before her face lit up again. “A girl? Oh, goody! You see… I’ve been wanting to jump rope for ever so long, but bats can’t jump rope.” Hagrid seemed so surprised by her change of heart that Luna put her little hand in his big one and pulled him along with her. “Come on, Mr. Hagrid. I’ll teach you how to do it properly.”

McGonagall and Flitwick held hands as they skipped on to the next pet. Snape joined them to temporarily replace Hagrid, and all three paused in front of Neville. The boy was fluffing the branches on a small tree and humming under his breath

“What is that?” Snape asked, putting out a tentative hand. “It’s green. I like it.”

“It’s a tree, sir,” Neville stammered, attempting to wedge himself behind it. “A pear tree.”

“Neville, a tree isn’t an animal,” McGonagall hedged, her face drawn into lines of concentration.

“Are you sure?” Snape asked, peering closely at its branches. “It’s so pretty. I wonder how it tastes.” He stuck out his tongue to lick a leaf before Flitwick jumped on his back and dragged him away.

“We don’t lick the pets, Severus. It’s rule number one from Headmistress Zymurgy.”

“The TREE isn’t my pet,” Neville reached in among the branches and began to rummage around. “EUREKA! Here it is!” He pulled out a small plain looking bird with a long tail. “My pet is the partridge that lives in the pear tree. I call her Gertrude. She’s my best friend and she’s going with me to the Yule Ball.” He hugged her fiercely and kissed her on her beak.

“I’m going to cut that or make the pet bigger and flashier. I bet we could use animatronics or maybe some animation,” Steve Kloves murmured and the sound of his hands rubbing together could be heard. “And that Neville boy needs to be taller and ridiculously handsome. I have this problem with JK as well. IDIOTS!”

“If you’re going to hang around here with me,” said the author, “You’re going to have to stop bothering me. I want to finish in time to watch The Wizard of Oz. Go get me a drink. I’ll have a glass of milk. On the rocks.”

Kloves sulkily disappeared into the kitchen mumbling under his breath about prima donna authors who drink milk with ice, and the author turned back to the story.

***

“’ello, I’m Plum and this is my brother Plum. We’re here to talk to you today about Plum and Plum's Perfect Wizarding Plumbing and Loos. Are your pipes rusty? Is your loo clogged? Do you have a ghoul stuck in your drain or a ghost in your u-bend? Don’t know who to call? Plum and Plum are here to make the answer clear. Excuse me… Plum. PLUM! Must you play that blasted yellow violin while I’m talking?”

“Sorry, Plum, but you’re so boring that I’m trying to spice up the commercial with a bit of classical music.”

“Boring? BORING! You sound like a cat sharpening his claws on a blackboard, but I’m boring.”

“Well, you know what they say, dear brother. Admitting you have a problem is a very important step.”

“I’m telling Mummy! You can’t call me boring and you can’t ruin our commercial.”

“Fine! Go tell Mummy. She always did love you best and… er… are we still on?”

“Oh, yes… that was Plum and Plum's Perfect Wizarding Plumbing and Loos. Just Floo us.”

***

Hermione also seemed to have opted to bring some sort of plant life to the Pet Show. The plant was large tree-like plant and a deep glossy green with a huge violently red and yellow flower on top. The flower seemed to undulate gently in a nonexistent breeze, and if you didn’t know better, you’d say it was preening.

“We actually just talked with Neville about this, Granger. You’re too clever to make this mistake. This is a pet show… not a plant show,” McGonagall was embarrassed that her brightest student had made such a blunder.

“It’s shiny,” Snape stuck out a finger as if to touch the huge flower and Hermione slapped his hand away. “Owie. Owie boo boo,” Snape stuck his whole hand in his mouth and whimpered.

“Suck it up, Snape. Be a man,” Hermione grunted and moved in front of him so that he couldn’t touch the plant. “This is the amazing Carnivorous African Tundra Tree that I have been cultivating for the past few months. The reason that I didn’t want Professor Snape to touch it is because it is, in fact, carnivorous. This means that it eats plants. Let me start by explaining how I obtained the plant and what I feed it each day. Don’t let me leave out how much I give him at each feeding…”

She began to talk and everyone’s eyes glazed over. Surrounding students all over the stadium fell asleep and even the three Professors were bored. Snape stuck his thumb in his mouth and twirled his hair around his fingers, while McGonagall sat down and let Flitwick curl up for a nap in her lap.

Hermione probably could have continued on all day, but a huge dragon fell from the sky and landed on a large group of the smaller animals. Lavender Brown shrieked in dismay and punched him in the tail for sitting on her fluffy bunny.

“SILENCE,” the dragon roared, and everyone woke from their apparently noisy sleeping stupors. He was about the length of three school buses, not that anyone in the Wizarding World knows what a school bus is. The dragon blew out a puff of smoke and tapped a large button taped to his scaly chest with his gigantic toenails. It read “Hi, I’m Bob.”

Harry popped awake from where his head had sunk to the snack table. He waved his stapler feebly, but he was completely not intimidating due to the cupcake stuck to his head. “I do NOT smell,” he insisted, his stapler-waving quite manic.

“Nobody said you did, silly,” Ginny pulled the cupcake off his head and set it on the table. “You are doing a poor job of guarding this table. One of those nasty cupcakes just jumped on your head and tried to eat you while you were sleeping.”

“I didn’t fall asleep,” Harry rubbed his eye with an icing-covered hand and yawned. “My energy level is getting low. I need new batteries.” He pulled a package of batteries from his pocket and stuck one in each ear.

“I said SILENCE,” the dragon pointed one giant toenail at Harry.

“WHAT?” Harry shouted back. He couldn’t hear. He had batteries in his ears.

“Bob!” Snape shouted, running and giving the dragon a hug on his huge knee. “I’m glad you could make it. These are my friends. Friends, this is Bob. He’s a DRAGON. He’s my pet dragon.”

Everyone stared alternately at Snape and the dragon. They were wondering how Snape had gotten a dragon as well as how Snape had gotten the mistaken notion that any of them were his friends.

“Do your trick, Bob. Do your trick,” Snape jumped up and down and clapped his hands.

“Alright, Sevvy buns. I’ll do it, but only for you.” Bob breathed out a huge puff of smoke and eyed the people in front of him. “My name is Bob. You must tell me why you deserve to live, or I will eat you. Do you have ketchup?”

Luna scoffed. “They don’t even have bananas.”

“That’s not a trick,” McGonagall pushed Flitwick off her lap, and he gave a squeak of outrage. “That’s just a free meal. Snape, control your pet.”

“I wanna see the trick,” Snape shook his head and stuck his lip out like a large, greasy toddler.

“You,” he pointed to Ron. “What is the meaning of life?”

“Oh… er… that’s a good one,” Ron looked around desparately. “To… er… oh look! A pterodactyl!”

The dragon looked up and Ron ran away. “That’s cheating,” Bob sighed and looked for a new victim. He spotted some student we won’t bother to name because we’re sacrificing him to the good of the story. “What is the meaning of life?”

“That’s easy,” he answered confidently. "Life is the property or quality that distinguishes living organisms from dead organisms and inanimate matter, manifested in functions such as metabolism, growth, reproduction, and response to stimuli or adaptation to the environment originating from within the organism.”

“You’re boring,” Bob replied and quickly gulped down the student. “He needed ketchup. He even tasted boring. Who’s next?”

The rest of the students scattered other than Harry, who still had batteries in his ears and was now singing, “Sunny days chasing the clouds away. On my way to where the air is sweet. Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?”

Bob tapped Harry on the shoulder with his toenail. “Excuse me… what is the meaning of life?”

“Blue,” Harry nodded confidently, studying the dragon. “Most definitely blue.”

“Really? You think so?” Bob answered in confusion. “And why should I let you live? I’m hungry.”

“I don’t think I can,” Harry replied seriously. “I’m allergic to monkey fur. I think it might be genetic.”

“That’s a compelling argument, but my stomach is growling,” Bob pointed to his monstrous belly.

“Have you seen that Carnivorous African Tundra Tree? I think it looks good.”

Bob considered that plan for a long moment before eating the Carnivorous African Tundra Tree in two bites. “Aaaaaaaaaaaah! Indigestion!” Huge wings unfurled and Bob was gone in the blink of an eye.

“Harry! You saved us!” The student body crowded around Harry and hugged him wildly, but Harry still couldn’t hear. He thought he was being attacked and the green stapler made a reappearance.

“You were so brave,” Flitwick told McGonagall in awe.

“No, you were brave,” McGonagall cooed back. They held hands and skipped away again, this time in the direction of someone who could marry them so they could have miniature tartan-colored babies.

“Can we have some sort of blurry, cheesy ending that has really nothing to do with your plot? Like… OH! Maybe…” The author cut Steve Kloves off.

“Listen up, bucko. My name is Cassirin, author of this fic and Wicked Witch of the West. If you don’t get off my back, I’m going to send a pack of flying monkeys after you and they’ll drop you off a cliff.”

“Flying monkey are great! Brilliant!” He scribbled it all down on a piece of paper. “That’s the perfect way to end this film.” The author just sighed and went to bed.