*wipes tears of laughter from eyes*

:o
Weird, Shocking, Silly, Enjoyable, Histerical.

Say Lotus as she is interviewed by the camera's.

BLUE Draco!? My eyes! My eyes! *evil grin* You are now... fickless... WATCH YOUR BACK!

Oops... I forgot this part. Here's the dare:

1) Snape must say, "Thank you, Potter. That was very... considerate." and he's got to MEAN that, too.
2) Hermione must try to teach someone to dance.
3) Dobby must say, "Harry Potter stinks" for some reason or other.
4) Draco must jump up and down on onw foot and sing beatles tunes.
5) Someone must say, "But that's so... juvenile!"


I might be ficless but at least I'm not feckless. I'm sure that's a real word... and it is something to strive to not be.

It's that time again... Weirdness ensues...

Once again, we find our favorite Gryffindors. They were looking, and feeling, quite bored in History of Magic. Harry was doodling on a piece of scrap paper, trying to think of something exciting and death-defying to do. After all, what was Harry Potter without a bit of adventure and defying of death.

Harry taps on the computer screen.

"Eep... Harry! Don't do that. You aren't supposed to distract me and the readers. Go back to doodling."

"No way! Hermione, Ron and I want you to stop with all of the pranking story lines. We feel that they have gotten old and boring."

"Yes, because you're a great judge, Fictional Harry Potter! Get back to looking bored. Please!"

"Ugh, don't whine, Cassirin. It's very unattractive." Harry confers with Ron and Hermione, while the rest of the class politely pretends not to notice. "If you don't do something original, we're going to strike."

"How exactly are you going to do that, O Character that I write?" The author, who refuses to refer to herself as I, feels very clever at this point. "If I write you doing it, you'll do it!"

"Fine then," Ron pouted. "We'll write a letter to our real author and complain about you. She'll roll over in her grave!"

"She isn't dead, you imbecile," Hermione muttered from the corner of her mouth.

"First, she'll die of shock. Then she'll roll over in her grave."

The author beat her head against the computer. That did nothing good except give the author a bigger headache and make the computer sad. "How will you write a letter? You have no fingers!" She yelled and typed furiously.

"Eep..." Ron gasped, looking at his stubby little hands. "I have no fingers."

The author giggled and gave him his fingers back. "Now... I will take your requests into consideration, but remember who's the boss here. What kind of plot did you have in mind?"

"Can we do something dangerous?" Harry pleaded. "Something where I risk my life unnecessarily and end up all bloody and in the hospital wing. Nobody gets to see the hospital wing in your fics except Draco. And he was afraid of a bloody marshmallow." Behind his back, Ron shook his head desperately to signal NO! Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.

Ron and Hermione quickly jumped in with their own suggestions of logic based mysteries, a Quidditch sports fic, and even a romance, although everyone turned quite red and wouldn't talk anymore after that. From one side of the room, Neville jumped up and waved his hand.

"Excuse me, miss. I mean, Madam Author..."

"You could always call me Princess Cassirin," the author said sarcastically, but Neville seemed not to notice.

"Maybe you could write a fic with someone other than the trio as a main character..." he trailed off at the looks from the class. Even Professor Binns, who never noticed anything, was looking startled.

"You want to be important to my story?" the author said, her voice oozing with false sweetness. Neville nodded. "Fine."

All of a sudden there was a fishbowl on Neville's head. "Hey, wha der fshbl n ma hd?" Neville asked.

Ron gaped. "There's a bloody fishbowl on Neville's head."

"Dah's wt ah sed," Neville grunted.

The author laughed. "Now, let's see what happens."

Ah, poor Cass, good characters are hard to find.

You could try giving them peanuts as a reward for following the script.
Or carrots if you like. :roll: :carrot:

Aren't I evil!? *evil pose* Finish this or ... *eyebrow raise* Dun Dun DUN!

LOL
first a sock revolt, and now a character revolt! What a story... oh and don't forget the blue draco.... keep up the great work!

Beware of angry authors...

For a fishbowl, it was really very nice. Perfectly round and brand spanking new, there was no unsightly algae or creeping crud. Neville couldn't have done better, fishbowl-wise. It was the height of fishbowl fashion. Somehow, though, Neville was unhappy.

"Peas, it de fshbl ff me ed."

"What?"

"We really need to get that fishbowl off to understand what Neville is saying."

Neville sighed, which is actually quite a feat with a fishbowl on his head.

"Tra ta cur ba spn," Neville mumbled.

"What?"

"Ron, I really don't think that saying what and having Neville repeat himself is going to make him any easier to understand."

"Maybe he wnats us to cure hiim by spinning the fishbowl," Ginny suggested.

Hermione's eyes were wide with panic. "No! He's threatening to kill us with a spoon. He's gone all homicidal." The others looked at Hermione with amusement and concern, but Hermione's eyes darted around in search of errant silverware. The spoons were coming!

The youth (can you tell your author is forced to be a little creative with what she calls the Gryffs in question?) all tried to come up with methods of releasing Neville's head. They twisted and pulled, must to Neville's dismay. Ginny tried to butter his head, resulting only in a very slick Neville who they no longer could twist and pull. Neville didn't mind that so much, but he was quite unhappy about how he kept sliding out of bed.

"This," Harry grumbled, "is all our author's fault. She's the one who..." he paused, suddenly craving cotton candy. "You know, I'm suddenly craving cotton candy." Everyong looked at him, except Hermione who was on the lookout for murderous spoons.

"Hold up," Harry's face lost its pensive, hungry look. "I've never had cotton candy! Stop trying to distract me, Cassirin."

"That's Princess Cassirin to you!" The author laughed, and Neville grumbled something completely rude and inappropriate. Nobody understood him except the author, but that was enough. Neville gave a little gasp as there were suddenly fish swimming around his head in the fishbowl. The gasp sounded more like, "Glub, glub," but it was a gasp and everyone heard it.

LOL! Kudos! Very good story! Keep writing more!

lol! oh cass...u r evil hehehe! keep posting or ....

*bows to princess Cass* We are evil, friends, we are truly evil! *Evil pose*

Last bit... and yes, I am an Ohio State fan!

The Gryffindors stared at the small yellow goldfish circling Neville's head, while Neville attempted to follow their path as well. He stopped because his eyes kept crossing.

"Glub, glub," Neville said.

"What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and held her tongue. Ron never learned, no matter what she said.

The kind and beautiful author took the water and fish from the bowl because Neville was starting to look quite frantic, despite the fact that he also looked quite purple from being inside a bowl of water (and goldfish).

"I swa'd fsh," Neville's muffled shout caused all the kids to jump back into action.

"What?" Hermione batted Ron on the back of the head.

"Oh, bloody baskets of bread, I think Neville swallowed one of those goldfish!" Ginny was getting fairly adept at interpreting Neville.

"Das wha ah sed," Neville sighed.

"What?" Ginny kicked Ron in the shins.

"We need to get him to the infirmary!" Hermione shouted.

Harry looked at her incredulously. "It was a fish, Hermione, not one of his Potions assignments."

Neville said something else that was rude, but it wasn't aimed at the author, so she let it slide.

"We might as well," Ron suggested, alternating rubbing his head and his shins because the mean girls were always picking on him. Honestly, he had no idea why they hit him, and thus was doomed to repeat his mistakes.

Once in the infirmary, the Gryffs were surprised to see Snape running laps around the beds. Madam Pomfrey shrugged. "A misfired hex hit a bad batch of Potions and exploded on him. He thinks he's a Buckeye preparing for a Bowl game." Snape began to do sit ups.

The Gryffs glared at the author but kept their mouths shut. No reason to get upset at a random Ohio State University reference when the author was so clearly vindictive.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Ginny was shouting. Harry rolled his eyes, and Hermione hid behind a bed because she saw something silver glinting and suspected it was a spoon. Ron just hopped along, trying to rub his shin and head at the same time. "Neville has a fishbowl on his head and he just swallowed a fish! What can we do?"

"O-H!" Snape yelled.

"Nothing," she said simply. "In its most violent form, fishbowlitis must simply run its course."

"I-O!" Snape responded to himself.

Neville groaned and hit his head against the wall. The bowl cracked and crumbled around him. The kids looked at him in surprise, and Neville rubbed his slightly red forehead in disbelief.

"Now," the author said cracking her knuckles. "Anybody else have any 'suggestions' for me?"

Everyone was silent, except Snape, who was singing "Hang on, Sloopy."

lol! oh that was funny! keep it up....

Snape doing situps? BAD MENTAL IMAGE! *bangs head against wall* But... Nevill's fish was funny! Oh dear... *evil pose* I am EVIL!

Great Cass and just that little bit twisted.

More you say?
Ok, here comes.

Here are the dare requirements. If you read this and want in on the action, I suggest you go to the Evil Elite FF Darers board in Zonko's...:

1) A goldfish bowl must be central to the story.
2) Madam Pomphry must say, "nothing- in it's most violent form"
3) Snape must exersize.
4) Harry must express desire for cotton candy.
5) Hermione must fear a piece of silverwear of your choice.

And, now, for something a little different...

Today, we join our heroes... no, wait. I changed my mind. Those whiny babies don't get a story. Today's episode will take a look at the next, I mean LAST generation.

The Marauders were in their third year when our story opens. At this point, I should probably inform you about many things you already know or do not care about. For example, Remus was a werewolf, but no one knew. Well, he knew... Peter Pettigrew was this little runty kid who followed them around but was not yet evil. I've met evil 13-year-olds, but they weren't really EVIL in the way that evil things are evil. In the betray-your-best-friends-and-cut-off-your-hand sort of way. That Lily girl is around, but she's obviously not that important yet, except as someone to torment and hate and secretly adore for her spunk.

What was I talking about... oh, yes, they were third years. As is to be expected in any fanfic, all the fine young Gryffindors were in Potions. The teacher, Professor Splishinsplash, was quite accident-prone. She was notorious for stirring just a bit too hard and sprinkling the front row with some sort of potion. The smart students, for once in their careers, sat in the back of the room.

"I'm boooo-red!" Sirius whined in a loud whisper. James ignored him, watching Professor Splishinsplash catch herself on fire for the fourth time in ten minutes. Lily whipped her head around to glare at him, her long red ponytail nearly dragging through James and Sirius's potion's experiment.

"Watch it, Lily," James cautioned, trying to save her hair from the potion. At this point, their potion was as likely to shrivel her hair as set it on fire. He grabbed a handful of hair. Unfortunately, his hand went one way and her head went the other.

"Ouch!" Lily smacked James, causing his potion to overturn anyway. It glop, glop, glopped harmlessly to the floor. "What are you, four?"

"Nice move," Sirius whispered loudly again to the despairing James. "But I'm still bored."

"Talk to Remus. I'm busy," James murmured 'Evanesco' and began his potion again.

Sirius shot Remus a glance. Their friend was working one table over with the potions-challenged Peter. He looked pale and tired, but he couldn't be distracted because their table wasn't on fire.

"Remus is... weird," Sirius added. "There's something going on with him, and I don't know what."

James ignored him and worked on his potion. Sirius tapped a shrivelfig against the cauldron. "Quit that! I don't know either. Why don't you go bother him to find out?"

A delicious smell wafted across the room. James stopped chopping beetles and Sirius perked up considerably. Professor Splishinsplash even seemed to take notice. She swooped across the room, stumbling over five or six stools along the way and unknowingly catching her robes on fire. She stopped in front of Severus Snape's cauldron, and Lily quickly stomped out the fire.

The professor eyed his potion. She stuck a ladle in and brought the liquid to her nose. She sniffed delicately.

"50 points from Slytherin for making..." she sniffed again, "Chicken and stars soup."

Remus choked back a laugh, and James eyed him, saying, "Remus seems normal to me. He even had time to change Snape's ingredients list."

LOL!!! That's great! Absolutely brilliant! Bravo! Have a yoshi!

professor splishinsplash! lol! thats good!

*evil pose* MWAHAHAHA!!!!

Keeheehee!

Hey! Stop leaving random evil laughter! It scares the chickens.

The Marauders had a busy week, in their own way. Remus, suffering all the badness a full moon brings, was tired and quiet. Peter... who cares? Sirius watched Remus closely, looking for clues to his moods and growing increasingly irritable himself. James followed poor Lily around, explaining himself and apologizing, two activities the newest Gryffindor Chaser never participated in.

"Please, Li... Evans... I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Potter! The stalker act is boring. Move along."

"Not until you forgive me. I'm so, so sorry."

"Yeah, and our first born will be named Harry."

He finally gave up in disgust. Girls were ridiculous and petty, and James Potter had much better things to do then try to befriend this particular redhead. He renewed his zest for pranking by planning one just for their special friend Snape.

The rivalry between Snape and the Marauders was as inevitable as the migrating pattern of the African swallow. It wasn't just that Snape was Slytherin and the Marauders were Gryffindors. It wasn't simply that Snape had rather dark interests and the Marauders were all goodness and light. It wasn't even that the Marauders were the social butterflies of the third year and beyond while Snape was socially anemic (the author is so pleased with herself over this phrase she is now taking a cookie break). It was just... that they were Snape and the Marauders.

The boys debated for a long time the pros and cons of turning Snape into: a turkey, a warty frog, a red and gold snake, and a chocolate cream pie. The boys ignored the final suggestion, because it was from Peter and he was hungry. Finally, for some odd and unknown-except-to-the-author reason, they decided to turn him into a large sock.

"Can we do sock puppets?" Peter asked eagerly.

"Yes, of course," James said sarcastically. "Because it won't matter that you'll be putting your hand inside Snape." Peter turned a delightful shade of green.

Snape made a lovely sock. He was dark green, of course, with a black and silver argyle pattern. The Snape sock lay draped over Snape's chair in potions. The best part, of course, that he was a musical sock.

"Rudolph the Red-nosed reindeer, reindeer, had a very shiny nose. Like a lightbulb!" Sirius sang along with the socks.

"You know," Remus said, pensively. "I didn't expect him to smell so bad."

"If I were a sock," Peter put in, "I wouldn't smell."

The other boys rolled their eyes, except Sirius who added, "And if I were a sock, I'd be wool." At their looks, he said, "Well, half his problem is that he's a bleeding poly-blend!"

Remus gave a sort of twitch, that had more to do with the time of the month than with Sirius's brilliant sock observations.

"Alright," Sirius snapped, causing James and Peter to jump. "What's wrong with you? You've been all weird for a while now. I demand you unweirdify and tell us what's going on."

Remus was startled and opened his mouth to speak when Lily leaned over from her table. "You three are NOT this stupid." She looked at Peter and said, "You TWO are not this stupid." (The author realizes that she has compensated for Peter not being evil by him being stupid and feels bad... sort of... not at all).

Remus looked even more surprised, while James was confused and Sirius was angry. "We're your best friends, and this... girl knows before we do."

"You say girl like it's an insult," Lily smirked. "Can I tell them, Remus? Please?"

"I'mawerewolfanditsafullmoon," he rushed out all in one low breath. He looked at them tentatively.

Peter was picking his nose. James had a completely perplexed look on his face. Sirius looked... relieved?

"Is that all? You should have told us. How are you feeling?"

Remus gave a half-hearted sort of shrug. "Fine, I guess. Madam Underweather keeps feeding me chocolate. I'm not even sure if it's helping..."

Lily, who had been quite obviously eavesdropping, groaned. "Chocolate!? Not again..." At their perplexed looks, she laughed self-consciously. "Come on! Isn't chocolate like the secret cure all around here? Every time I walk past the infirmary, I gain 5 lbs. Oh! Honestly... boys!"

So, the Marauders were happy again, for the most part. And Lily pretty much wanted nothing to do with them, at least for the next 3 years. And Snape...

"Ugh, can we move him?" Remus groaned. "He really stinks."

CASS! YOU ARE A GENIUS!

lol! cass that is so funny! goody gosh i've fallen off my chair...hehe!