I finally rounded out my Harry Potter condensed parody collection by writing one for Order of the Phoenix
, and it is now done and you can read it here! (Also here
Or at least, my parody series WAS complete until they released that eighth book yesterday. I'm ignoring that detail for now.
Feel free to send anyone to my full collection of parodies
if you think they'd like them. They include not only the HP books but the Lord of the Rings movies, and a couple of other random things.
Now I get to bring my attention back to my own novels, which have been a tad neglected during this process, but which I'll be happy to dive into again.
Hope you're having a lovely summer!
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, condensed
by Molly Ringle
August 1, 2016
With no permission from, and many apologies and thanks to, J.K. Rowling.
CHAPTER ONE: LET’S START WITH A LITTLE WHINGING
HARRY: The Dursleys are mean and my wizard friends aren’t telling me the Voldemort news and I’m grumpy. I mean, yes, that’s my usual mood for most of the series, but I’m REALLY FEELING IT this book, you guys.
Then his summer gets a lot more exciting when DEMENTORS appear in the alley and corner HARRY and DUDLEY! A DEMENTOR sucks DUDLEY’s face until HARRY chases it off with the Patronus Charm.
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Hello! I’ll be tallying caps lock rage. So far, one line for Harry, followed by one for Dudley. Carry on.
CHAPTER TWO: HARRY’S EXPELLED! NO HE’S NOT! YES HE IS! NO HE’S NOT!
HARRY drags the groggy DUDLEY to the front porch, where DUDLEY throws up.
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Good evening! Citing that.
PETUNIA: Oh sweet Diddums! What did nasty freaky Harry do? (and I quote) Was it—was it you-know-what, darling? Did he use—his *thing*?
DUDLEY/HARRY SHIPPERS: If we existed, we’d be exploding with joy here.
Meanwhile OWLS begin delivering one note after another to HARRY.
MINISTRY OF MAGIC’S NOTE: Dear Mr. Potter: No magic outside school, remember? Your wand will be destroyed post haste, you’ll be expelled, and you’ll have to come to a hearing. Okay bye!
MR. WEASLEY’S NOTE: Harry, don’t give up your wand! Hold tight, man, we got this.
MINISTRY OF MAGIC’S NOTE: Okay actually, you’ll still have the hearing, where we’ll talk about expulsion, but keep your wand for now.
SIRIUS’ NOTE: Stay there, mate!
HARRY: I am getting REALLY angsty.
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Lots for Uncle Vernon this scene too: he’s up to five by my count!
New OWL! But this time the note is for PETUNIA…
HOWLER: REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA.
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Hmm, caps lock, but not rage. Not my division.
CHAPTER THREE: MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT IN THE DURSLEYS’ HOUSE
MOODY: Yo. Since the Dursleys are out, we’re here to rescue you.
HARRY: I guess I can put my moping on pause for that. Wow, there’s a lot of you.
TONKS: Wotcher! I’m genuinely cool and it’s a shame I never got enough page time.
KINGSLEY: Hello, I’m reasonably cool too.
LUPIN: Hi, you remember me.
DOGE, DIGGLE, VANCE, PODMORE, PISCES, AQUARIUS, CAPRICORN, and JONES: Hi, you’re not going to remember us.
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Moody cited for taking out his magical eye with a “squelching sound” and putting it in a glass of water.
KINGSLEY: All right, let’s fly. Be careful, but (and I quote) no one’s going to die.
PEOPLE WHO’VE READ THE BOOK BEFORE: Yeah, that’s not till later.
CHAPTER FOUR: DISGUSTING AND DODGY HQ OF ORDER OF THE PHOENIX
HARRY: The good guys are hiding out in an…enchanted crack house, then?
HERMIONE and RON: Harry, yay! You’re here!
HARRY: Oh, hey, you two. Let me tell you how I feel about not getting any useful news from you all summer. (takes a deep breath and…)
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Oh! Harry Potter is sprinting ahead! One—two—three—we’re—six! We’re up to six, putting Harry solidly in the lead!
HARRY: …which concludes my calm and balanced argument.
HERMIONE: (nearly in tears) Order of the Phoenix, secret society, anti-Death-Eaters, that’s all we know, please stop yelling.
HARRY: Hrmf. Who else is here?
RON: My whole family, except Percy, who has become a Ministry-humping douche. Snape’s in the Order too, by the way.
HERMIONE: Also, the Ministry and the Daily Prophet are calling you and Dumbledore whackjobs.
HARRY: Italics of rage!
EGREGIOUS ADVERBS TASK FORCE: Hello! Just wanted to cite a “said Ginny unblushingly,” page 75.
MRS. WEASLEY: Everyone, please be quiet by this one portrait or else it might—
PORTRAIT OF UGLY OLD WOMAN: Filth! Scum! Mudbloods! Tacky people, wearing Crocs into my elegant house!
SIRIUS: (storming in) OMFG, Mum, shut UP.
CHAPTER FIVE: HANGING OUT AT SIRIUS’ PAD
SIRIUS: Yeah, this is my ancestral abode. Foul, I know.
HARRY: No, it’s uh…unique. So, tell me every last thing I’ve missed in the last two months.
SIRIUS: Voldemort’s been trying to get his Death Eaters back together, and is still scared of Dumbledore. Meanwhile the Ministry is discrediting Dumbledore and telling everyone Voldemort *isn’t* back.
HARRY: Yeah, I already knew all that.
MRS. WEASLEY: Good then, you’re all caught up. Nighty night!
CHAPTER SIX: IN WHICH SIRIUS’ HOUSE GETS ZERO STARS ON AIRBNB AND TRIPADVISOR
FRED and GEORGE Apparate into RON and HARRY’s bedroom to chat. The conversation is inconsequential, but PERVY READERS take note of the whole “Apparating straight into bedrooms” thing, because hey, many possibilities there.
The noble and valiant GOOD GUYS spend the next day cleaning SIRIUS’ house, which is dusty and moldy and has all kinds of VERMIN, both MAGICAL and ORDINARY, most of which are venomous and/or hexed. Also, SIRIUS is wandering through with a bag of dead rats (to feed BUCKBEAK; remember BUCKBEAK? the Hippogriff?), and everyone’s spraying black goop around to disinfect, and, blech.
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: I’m just writing up this entire place. I’ll need some extra forms, please.
SIRIUS: And we can’t even chuck most of this decor because of Permanent Sticking Spells gluing it to the walls.
READERS: Oh! Idea! Sneak up on Voldemort in the bathroom and stick him eternally to the toilet!
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Btw, citation to the twins for their, er, innovative Puking Pastilles and Nosebleed Nougat.
SIRIUS: Here’s my family tree on a hideous tapestry. Check it out, they torched off my name because I ran away from home.
HARRY: You ran away? Why?
SIRIUS and all READERS: Harry, are you SEEING this house.
HARRY: Wow, you’re related to the Malfoys, and to Bellatrix LeStrange who’s in Azkaban and totally looks like Helena Bonham Carter, and—
SIRIUS: Argh, shut up, I hate my family. Sorry. I’m sorry. Cabin fever. Oh my God I want to leave this house once in a while, but will Dumbledore let me, noooo.
HARRY: Dumbledore sucks. He hasn’t even come to see me.
SIRIUS: Yeah. It’s like, whatever, man, fine.
SIRIUS and HARRY exchange fistbump of emo boy solidarity.
Also, we meet KREACHER the house-elf, who hates everyone except the PORTRAIT OF SIRIUS’ MUM and VOLDEMORT, but is nonetheless obliged to do SIRIUS’ bidding.
SIRIUS: (and I quote) “I still caught him snogging a pair of my father’s old trousers last week.”
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: (sigh) I’ll go get another form.
CHAPTER SEVEN: AT LEAST GENGHIS KHAN WASN’T IN THE PHONE BOOTH
MR. WEASLEY: (“bracingly”) Time for your hearing at the Ministry, Harry!
EGREGIOUS ADVERBS TASK FORCE: Tsk, tsk.
In a move borrowed from SUPERMAN or BILL AND TED’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE or possibly DOCTOR WHO, the magical entrance to the Ministry is a phone box. (Yeah, I KNOW it’s actually a police box on Doctor Who.) Phone box turns into a lift and drops MR. WEASLEY and HARRY into an underground office complex.
SOME MINISTRY GUY: Oh by the way, your hearing’s been rescheduled to earlier and we didn’t tell you, so now you’re late and we are totally shaking our heads at you in disapproval.
HARRY: Ack. (sprints off to the dungeon/courtroom/oubliette/appointed place)
CHAPTER EIGHT: THE WORD “KAFKAESQUE” MIGHT COME IN HANDY HERE
FUDGE: Well then. It’s me, Umbridge, Bones, and Percy interrogating you, lots of others looking on sternly, and, gosh, NO ONE defending you, what a shame—
DUMBLEDORE strides in and conjures up a comfy chair to sit in.
DUMBLEDORE: Except me.
HARRY and READERS: Yay! Or, wait, are we still mad at him?
FUDGE: Ahem. So—Potter, you used magic in front of a Muggle.
HARRY: Yes, because Dementors!
FUDGE: Pshaw, as if. What would Dementors be doing outside of Azkaban?
DUMBLEDORE: Following Voldemort’s orders.
FUDGE: Impossible! Didn’t happen! This kid is a proven troublemaker!
BONES: Although it IS pretty cool he could produce a Patronus at his age, and if there WERE Dementors, that DOES count as exceptional circumstances…
FUDGE: Ugh. All right then, vote.
And…HARRY is cleared of all charges by a majority of just enough fans!
DUMBLEDORE: Cool. Bye now. (leaves without even asking HARRY out to lunch or anything)
CHAPTER NINE: HAPPY! THEN REALLY SAD!
FRED and GEORGE: (and I quote) He got off! He got off! He got off!
PERVY READERS: That’s what she said.
HARRY: By the way, my scar hurts randomly and frequently these days, and I’m still sulking about Dumbledore not lavishing attention on me.
RON: Holy wow, look what just arrived from Hogwarts: I’m a prefect!
HERMIONE: Me too!
HARRY: What? How come I’m n—I mean, uh, congrats, mate.
RON: Yeah, cheers, it’s no big deal.
But when HARRY glances over later, RON is nuzzling his prefect badge and murmuring to it, “Who’s a pretty boy? Who’s a good boy? Yes you are! Yes you are!”
Then HARRY goes upstairs and finds MRS. WEASLEY sobbing, because in trying to continue the endless delousing of SIRIUS’ house, she’s encountered a BOGGART. And it is taking the forms of each of her CHILDREN and MR. WEASLEY and HARRY, all dead, and the “Riddikulus” spell isn’t working, and thank you so much, ROWLING and MRS. WEASLEY, for demonstrating how for most of us our worst fears cannot be made into anything particularly funny, and neither can this scene, so, let’s just slog out of here.
EGREGIOUS ADVERBS TASK FORCE: “said Mr. Weasley wonderingly.” (p. 153)
CHAPTER TEN: THE REQUISITE HOGWARTS EXPRESS CHAPTER
SIRIUS: I’m going to turn into my dog form and see you off at the station, Harry! What could happen?
DRACO: What a SIRIUSLY interesting DOG, Potter. Ooh, look at my chest, prefect’s badge! Can’t touch me!
HARRY takes a seat with LUNA, who always keeps the EGREGIOUS ADVERBS TASK FORCE busy with the word “dreamily,” and has been spending a lot of time on Etsy and/or Pinterest lately from the look of her bottlecap necklace. Probably has her lunch in a Mason jar too.
When they arrive at Hogwarts:
HARRY: Hmm, Hagrid’s not here to greet us. And whoa! What are the creepy skeletal bat-winged horse things pulling the carriages?
RON and HERMIONE: Are you high, mate? Nothing’s there.
LUNA: I can see them too.
HARRY: Gosh, I feel so much better now.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: JUST SIT RIGHT BACK AND YOU’LL HEAR A TALE / A TALE OF A FRETFUL HAT
SORTING HAT: I have become conflicted about the divisive practice of sorting you all into Houses even though that’s literally my only job. By the way, try not to sing my songs to the tune of the “Gilligan’s Island” theme. HAHA, you will never hear them any other way again.
DUMBLEDORE: Greetings! Professor Grubbly-Plank will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures, I won’t mention Hagrid at all, and say hi to the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher: she in the Pepto-Bismol pink, Professor Umbridge.
UMBRIDGE: Hem, hem. What a delightful little batch of girlsies and boysies! I shall be looking forward very much to patronizing, indoctrinating, drugging, and occasionally torturing you. You will loathe me even more than you loathe Voldemort within a few chapters.
HERMIONE: Already there, honey.
SEAMUS: Hey Harry, I’ve decided you’re a crazy liar because the Daily Prophet says so.
HARRY and READERS: Sorry, who were you again?
CHAPTER TWELVE: WOW, WE HATE THIS WOMAN ALREADY
FRED and GEORGE: We’ll pay people in gold to be test subjects for our potions that cause alarming physical symptoms for which we don’t have antidotes yet. Any takers? Any? Come on! It’s worth it to vomit or bleed unstoppably if it means you get to skip class, right?
CHO: Hi Harry!
HARRY: Hey wow hi um, good summer? I mean aside from it starting with your boyfriend dying…um.
RON: Oi, Chang. Who gave you the right to wear that Quidditch team’s badge? Are you a REAL FAN?
CHO: Ohh-kay, see you later.
HARRY, HERMIONE, and all READERS with a sense of decency: Ugh, Ron, GOD. Time to form a new task force against jerks who use the phrase “real fan.”
HARRY: But did you guys notice Cho came and talked to me? Squee!
Defense Against the Dark Arts class begins:
UMBRIDGE: This class shall be for discussing defensive magical theory—yes?
HERMIONE: What about using our wands to do actual spells?
UMBRIDGE: No no, we couldn’t have that.
HARRY: But if we’re attacked, we—
UMBRIDGE: You won’t be. Ever.
DEAN: How do you know?
UMBRIDGE: Ministry says so. Perfectly safe. Could sleep naked on the pavement with cash and candy all over you and no one would even touch you. So—
HARRY: Voldemort’s back, though, so, bit unsafe out there really.
UMBRIDGE: Oh my, a little liar. Detention for you.
HARRY: So Cedric just fell over and died all on his own, huh? You’re the liar, lady.
UMBRIDGE: Extra super detention. Go take this note to your head of House.
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Curiously, we only have one from Harry this whole chapter—a “SHUT UP,” at Peeves, not even at Umbridge—but I daresay we had several violations from readers during that whole bit!
HARRY storms off to MCGONAGALL’s office and thrusts the note at her.
MCGONAGALL: What’s this? You told Umbridge she’s a liar and that You-Know-Who is back?
HARRY: Well. Yeah.
MCGONAGALL: Have a biscuit, Potter.
READERS: <3 <3 <3!!! McGonagall is my new favoritest character ever!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS SCHOOL
This year in Transfiguration, our STUDENTS are practicing Vanishing spells, which apparently make things disappear forever.
READERS: Then use a Vanishing spell on Voldemort. Or, oh! On Umbridge! Why am I the only one coming up with all the smart ideas here?
LUNA: By the way, Harry, I may be a screwball whose father, an even bigger screwball, runs The Quibbler (i.e., the screwball newspaper of choice), but I believe you about You-Know-Who.
HARRY shows up for his appointed detention with UMBRIDGE. She makes him write “I must not tell lies” over and over with a special quill of evil, and every time he does, the words show up on the back of his hand in bleeding cuts. And he has to do this every day all week.
READERS: What the effing eff. How is this legal?
HARRY: No, it’s okay, I’m a special snowflake and I won’t let the pain show, nor tell anyone. Because we wouldn’t want the Ministry to get any angrier.
RON: Luckily your friends can read, and notice when your hand is raw and bleeding. What the effing eff, man?
HARRY: It’s cool, I’ll just bleed every evening all week.
RON: Okay. Hey guess what, I tried out for the Quidditch team and I’m the new Keeper! Haha, that’ll make a good pick-up line, right? “Hey baby, I’m a Keeper.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: BEHOLD GRYFFINDOR’S ILLUSTRIOUS QUIDDITCH TEAM
HARRY’s scar goes on hurting at random times, so he sends a letter to SIRIUS to tell him about it in coded terms. (“The Thing I mentioned last year has been occurring again. Any thoughts? Any clue what I’m talking about?”)
ANGELINA: All right, Gryffindors, time to practice Quidditch. Let’s see what you’ve got.
FRED and GEORGE: *dosing people irresponsibly*
KATIE: *more blood*
RON: *continued fail*
ANGELINA: I give up.
RON: Also I just got the world’s most pretentious letter from Percy.
PERCY’S NOTE: Dear “little bro,” haha, isn’t that sweet, me calling you that. I do so congratulate you upon becoming a prefect, and encourage you to continue your rise to glory by ditching our woefully tacky parents and rabble-rousers like Harry Potter, and joining me in a career in the Ministry, which literally is like the most stupendously fantastic thing ever. Also Professor Umbridge is SO cute, isn’t she? OMG, swoon. Love and Ministry-approved-style hugs, Percy.
RON: Oh—my—effing—God. (tearing up letter into bits)
READERS: Maybe I like Ron again after all, despite the “true fan” debacle.
SIRIUS: (as a disembodied head in the fireplace) Hi Harry, I don’t have any news, except your scar probably hurts when Voldemort’s feeling extra emo, but you already knew that. Anyhoo, how about I show up as a dog again and come visit you?
HARRY: No! Too risky! People saw you last time!
SIRIUS: (pout) Your DAD would’ve let me. Well, bye then.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE INQUISITION, WHAT A SHOW! / THE INQUISITION, HERE WE GO!
HERMIONE: What is this new devilry? Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three just made Umbridge “High Inquisitor” of Hogwarts.
READERS: What were Educational Decrees Numbers One through Twenty-Two?
DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL EDUCATION: I’m glad you asked! Number One ensured all school-prepared meals come with carrot sticks, Number Two—
READERS: Okay, never mind.
HERMIONE: The decree says Umbridge gets to inspect not only everything the students are doing, but all the teachers as well.
Let’s how that goes, shall we?
UMBRIDGE: You’re a Seer? Predict something, please?
TRELAWNEY: The Inner Eye is not a trained dolphin that can perform upon command.
UMBRIDGE: Tsk tsk, sad.
MCGONAGALL: So, class, today we—
UMBRIDGE: Hem, good morning.
MCGONAGALL: I. Am. Speaking.
UMBRIDGE: Temper, temper. (scribbles notes)
HERMIONE: You know what, Harry? You should just teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts. You’ve done more actual battle than we have.
HARRY: Oh, haha, that’s too kind of you, no, surely I couldn’t. But, you know, if you insist…
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: A “STOP LAUGHING” from Harry on page 327. Harry does not hold with this laughter nonsense.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: HOW MANY CREDITS DO WE GET FOR THIS CLASS, HARRY?
We hear classes are going well and that HERMIONE has now progressed to Vanishing kittens.
READERS: They’re Vanishing kittens?? What kind of demonic hellhole is this school?? I’m with the Ministry all of a sudden; shut the place down.
On Hogsmeade weekend, STUDENTS interested in subversive extra classes taught by the current champion of Caps Lock Rage convene in the Hog’s Head Tavern.
HARRY: Hey everyone. Should we meet sometimes and I can teach you stuff I’ve learned about attack and defense spells? Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me?
TWENTY-FOUR OTHER STUDENTS, none of whom are in Slytherin, btw: Yes, let’s.
HERMIONE: Everyone sign this paper to prove you’re on our team.
HARRY: Hey, did you guys notice Cho was there and totally smiled at me?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THEN CAN YOU JUST STICK *ANY* BODY PART IN THE FIRE AND MAKE IT APPEAR IN SOMEONE ELSE’S FIREPLACE? BECAUSE I HAVE SOME FUNNY IDEAS.
UMBRIDGE: New decree! No student clubs, teams, groups, threesomes, twosomes, friendships, or acquaintances allowed without the express permission of the High Inquisitor.
HARRY: She’s onto us.
HERMIONE: Don’t worry. In one of my unexpectedly sly moves, I jinxed that paper so “dirty rat” will appear on your face if you tell on us.
Back in the Gryffindor common room, FRED and GEORGE are demonstrating their Puking Pastilles. Over and over. The phrase “projectile-vomit” is used.
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: So much citation.
SIRIUS: (again as a head in the fireplace) Secret Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, huh? Wicked cool, you guys.
HARRY: How did you know?
SIRIUS: We have spies. So—ack!
The creepy HAND OF DOLORES UMBRIDGE shows up in the fire, groping around and trying to grab SIRIUS’ head! Which luckily has the sense to vanish before getting caught.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: I DON’T KNOW ABOUT “REQUIRE,” BUT IT IS A ROOM FULL OF STUFF I’D REALLY LIKE
FRED and GEORGE: Thanks to our latest magicopharmaceutical adventures, we have (and I quote) “massive pus-filled boils” “not in a place we generally display to the public.”
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: You two are making me work overtime lately, you know that?
HARRY: Whoa, I’m starting to get vision-like flashes along with my random scar pain. Am I…reading Voldemort’s mind?? Yeah, well, anyway, off to my new professorial job.
Which takes place in the Room of Requirement, a cool space indeed. It provides them automatically with cushions to fall on, hundreds of spellbooks, and flattering torchlight. When HARRY needs a whistle, one shows up on a shelf, and when he sidles up near CHO, a box of condoms appears.
READERS: Ah, wait: I require a room where all the Vanished kittens reappear! There, fixed. Carry on with your screwed-up curriculum, Hogwarts.
HARRY: What should we call ourselves?
GINNY: Dumbledore’s Army. It’s ironic, and we’re pretty much hipsters, so.
And so it shall be!
HARRY: All righty, let’s try some spells.
**Injuries. Bruises. Fire. Mayhem.**
HARRY and rest of DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY: Great, that was fun, let’s do it again next week!
CHAPTER NINETEEN: “CAMPTOWN RACES” TUNE WORKS PRETTY WELL FOR “WEASLEY IS OUR KING,” BY THE WAY
DRACO: Drat, Gryffindor won at Quidditch despite my singer-songwriter skills being deployed in a stirring anti-Ron tune, so I’m just going to say, “Hey Potter and Weasleys. Yo mama.”
HARRY and FRED and GEORGE begin beating the stuffing out of DRACO, not even using wands, just bare fists.
READERS: This is a terrible idea on their part, but it is rather satisfying.
UMBRIDGE: In accordance with new Ministry decrees, Harry and George and Fred are all banned from Quidditch for life.
MCGONAGALL: What?? You can’t do that.
UMBRIDGE: Yes I can. By the way, we’re also banning chocolate, snowballs, the color red, hugs, flattering clothes, and sneezing in the presence of any Ministry employee.
HOGWARTS STUDENTS: Help, help, I’m being repressed!
READERS: Okay, this is getting a LITTLE over the top.
CHAPTER TWENTY: THAT MOUNTAIN RANGE ALSO NOT RATED HIGHLY ON TRIPADVISOR
But at last, HAGRID is back!
HARRY, RON, and HERMIONE sneak down to HAGRID’s cabin.
HAGRID: Good ter see yeh! Pardon my beaten-to-a-pulp face and the greenish dragon-meat raw steak I’m squishing against it.
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: *grimace* *filling out form*
HARRY: So…looks like you went to find some giants for the Order of the Phoenix and it didn’t go so well?
HAGRID: Right, funny story. No, Fang, don’ eat me dragon steak!
He slaps it back on his face after it’s been in FANG’s mouth.
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: (sigh) God. Another form, please.
HAGRID: So me an’ Madame Maxime went on this lovely hikin’ expedition, real romantic like; out in the mountains for a month, sharin’ a tent and bathin’ in lakes and swattin’ mosquitoes on each other’s bare skin—er, but anyway, yeah, we found a tribe o’ giants.
RON: And they beat you up?
HAGRID: Naw! We exchanged gifts. Learned rude jokes in each other’s languages. Good times. But then there was a rebellion and the leader got his head torn off.
HERMIONE: So then you got beat up?
HAGRID: Nah, course not! We went round tellin’ ‘em to vote Dumbledore when the time came.
HARRY: And they beat you up.
HAGRID: Nope! They chased us off, though, and Maxime went home and I came back here in defeat.
HARRY: So why are you mashed and bleeding?
HAGRID: Oh that, well—hide! Someone’s here!
The KIDS dive under the Invisibility Cloak.
UMBRIDGE: Welcome back, Hagrid. Just came to say howdy do, and I’ll be inspecting you and disapproving of you, and oh yes, interesting how there are three sets of footprints in the snow leading to your door right now. Hmm, quite. Goodnight then.
EGREGIOUS ADVERBS TASK FORCE: “said Umbridge sleekly,” page 436.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: EVEN HARRY’S FIRST KISS IS EMO
HAGRID takes up the furry, bloody mantle of Care of Magical Creatures again:
HAGRID: Come into the forest ‘ere, class! (throws a butchered dead cow on the ground) There, that’ll attract ‘em.
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Yeeeaah, I’m so glad you’re back, Hagrid.
HAGRID: There they are! Thestrals: skeletal bat-winged horse things we mentioned earlier. Only people who’ve seen death can see ‘em.
READERS: Hang on! Then how come Harry couldn’t see them from the start, what with witnessing his parents’ death?
ROWLING: He was a baby then, so he couldn’t understand what he saw. Is my explanation. Which you can Google.
READERS: Hmmm. Not sure I’m buying it.
UMBRIDGE: Hello, I’m here to inspect the class. Oh dear, Hagrid clearly has mental deficiencies, shows a partiality for frighteningly violent creatures, and his classes often leave his students terrified.
HERMIONE: Well, two out of three are true, but still, she shouldn’t be so mean!
HARRY goes on teaching DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY. One night he and CHO both coyly linger until they’re the last two people in the Room of Requirement. Then CHO starts crying.
CHO: I miss Cedric!
HARRY: Oh. Yeah…he was awesome. Well…goodnight.
CHO: No, don’t go! Sorry I’m such a hot mess.
HARRY: It’s okay.
CHO: (sniffle) Hey, look. Mistletoe.
HARRY draws closer and…
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Oh. Sure. Fine. Give us lurid details about Puking Pastilles and green dragon meat, but when it’s time for a kiss, just fade to black. Wouldn’t want people to see a PLEASANT moment or anything.
HARRY staggers into the Gryffindor common room later with little hearts winging around him.
HERMIONE: I surmise Cho kissed you?
RON: Dude!!!! What was it like????
HARRY: (and I quote) Wet.
FRED and GEORGE: (popping into the scene) He got off! He got off! He got off!
HARRY goes to bed and—
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Great, he’s dreaming he’s a snake who’s plunging his fangs into a man’s throat and splattering blood everywhere, and wakes up sweaty and screaming, then throws up on the floor.
HARRY: askdflkjgh! Ron! It was your dad, he’s been attacked! Go go go!
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: KNIGHTS OF THE KITCHEN TABLE
Via a Portkey in DUMBLEDORE’s office: whoosh! HARRY and all the currently-at-school WEASLEY KIDS find themselves back at SIRIUS’ disgusting house.
SIRIUS: Okay, everyone. In worrisome times like this, what we do is we sit at the kitchen table.
They do. For hours. Finally news arrives: MR. WEASLEY is okay!
The whole group trundles along to St. Mungo’s, where the list of departments is just this side of getting written up by the OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS, but at least the PATIENTS showing up at the moment have charmingly silly problems like wings sprouting from their backs or a dancing spell spazzing their feet around.
MR. WEASLEY: Hi everyone! Great to see you. I’m fine—haha, the bite still bleeds uncontrollably when they take off the bandages, but really, doing great!
Then, when they’ve sent the KIDS out but the KIDS are eavesdropping:
MOODY: Yeah, sounds like Potter’s being possessed by You-Know-Who. That ain’t good.
WEASLEY SIBLINGS: (staring at HARRY) !!!
HARRY: (staring back) !!!
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: NOT EVEN A CHEESY BRITISH HOLIDAY POP SONG COULD CHEER US UP HERE
Christmas rolls around, and the group goes back to St. Mungo’s to give MR. WEASLEY his presents.
MR. WEASLEY: Dude! Harry!! Muggle scrap metal and bits of recycling!! This is the most fantastic gift ever!!!
The KIDS wander down the corridor to the Spell Damage ward, because that’s always fun on Christmas.
GILDEROY LOCKHART: I still have no idea who I am, but I KNOW you want my autograph!
Then someone says “Mrs. Longbottom,” and RON, GINNY, HERMIONE, and HARRY turn and gape at NEVILLE and his family tragedy.
MRS. LONGBOTTOM (NEVILLE’S GRANDMA): Oh, hello, yes. Didn’t you know? We’re visiting Neville’s parents, who were tortured into insanity by Bellatrix LeStrange. What now, Alice?
ALICE, who is NEVILLE’S MUM, comes up to NEVILLE and timidly gives him a gum wrapper. NEVILLE thanks her quietly and puts it in his pocket. And there it is, right there, the saddest thing in the entire book; you can go ahead and cry now, because nothing is sadder, not MRS. WEASLEY with the Boggart, not SIRIUS dying later on (spoilers, sorry), nope, this is it. Sooo…Happy Christmas!
EGREGIOUS ADVERBS TASK FORCE: “said Ron warningly,” p. 503.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: ARE YOUR CHILDREN LEARNING ENOUGH ABOUT EXTERNAL PENETRATION?
SNAPE: Potter, upon Dumbledore’s orders I shall be giving you private lessons in defense against external penetration.
SNAPE/HARRY SHIPPERS faint in bliss.
SNAPE: Of the mind. Defense of the MIND against external penetration. Also known as Occlumency, which sounds more steampunk. So strap on your buckles and harnesses and come to my office Monday night.
The KIDS take the Knight Bus, and you know what that means…
OFFICE OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Yes, we have “frog spawn, cockroaches, and custard creams” all over the bus floor, and a passenger throwing up. You know, maybe we should just split into an Office of Vomit and an Office of OTHER Seriously Gross Things.
CHO: Hi Harry! So, February 14, nice day to visit Hogsmeade, huh?
HARRY: Right? …??
CHO: Forget it. See you.
HARRY: …oh. Oh! Hey Cho, want to go to Hogsmeade with me on Valentine’s Day?
CHO: <3! <3! <3!
READERS: By Jove, I think he’s got it.
HARRY shows up in SNAPE’s office for his Occlumency lesson.
SNAPE: You are about as pleasing to me as a big splinter in my toe, but Dumbledore wishes me to help you close your mind to the Dark Lord, so here we are.
HARRY: Can we maybe have a civil conversation about why this is happening to me?
SNAPE: No. Going to read your mind now. Legilimens!
HARRY tries to fight it off and fails.
SNAPE: Interesting. I’m so glad I saw you getting a marble stuck up your nose when you were five. Try again. Legilimens!
SNAPE: Fail. Do it again.
(Repeat the above sequence several times.)
HARRY: Hang on a sec, that time I got a Voldemort mind-meld glimpse of a corridor in the Department of Mysteries!
SNAPE: Close your stupid mind. And in fact get out of here, I’m tired of you.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: AND YOU THOUGHT THE YULE BALL WAS HARRY’S WORST DATE EVER
HERMIONE: Roundup of news: ten Death Eaters just escaped from Azkaban, people are being murdered, and Umbridge has put Hagrid on probation.
HARRY: But I get to go on a Valentine’s Day date with Cho, so everything’s peachy!
CHO: Let’s go into this frilly, fussy tea shop where our classmates are making out and magical cherubs are throwing confetti on us.
HARRY: Getting less peachy. Oh, FYI, I said I’d meet Hermione for lunch.
CHO: Fine. Just fine. You know what, I’m going to start crying over Cedric again.
HARRY: Agh, please no.
CHO: Oh just leave! Go be with beautiful precious Hermione, then! (storms out)
EGREGIOUS ADVERBS TASK FORCE: I mean, “she said dramatically” (p. 562) is pretty self-evident here.
HARRY storms over to the Three Broomsticks to meet HERMIONE, who, oddly, is sitting with LUNA and RITA SKEETER.
HARRY: What in the actual hell, Hermione.
HERMIONE: Rita does what I say nowadays. Right, Rita?
RITA: Yes, and by the way, blackmail is illegal, but no one’s bringing that up.
HERMIONE: She wants to write juicy articles. So she gets to write one about the truth of Cedric’s death and that whole ugly night, in Harry’s own words.
RITA: Daily Prophet wouldn’t run it.
LUNA: But my father’s paper would.
HARRY: Screwball Weekly? Oh, fantastic.
HERMIONE: We’re doing it anyway, end of story, get started.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: EVERYONE LOVES HARRY AGAIN (EXCEPT SNAPE AND UMBRIDGE AND VOLDEMORT AND…ANYWAY)
HERMIONE: By the way, how was your date with Cho?
HARRY: Disaster. How’s Quidditch going, Ron?
HERMIONE: But look! The Quibbler is out, with your article. And people are actually reading it and believing it and liking you again!
UMBRIDGE: Ahem, new decree. Anyone found in possession of The Quibbler will be expelled.
HERMIONE: OMG LOL. Now absolutely everyone will read it.
CHO: Oh Harry sweetest darling, I’m so sorry. You’re brave and wonderful.
CHO kisses him on the cheek and we actually get to see it this time.
SEAMUS: You probably still don’t remember me, but sorry I was a jerkwad earlier this year. We’re cool now.
HARRY falls asleep again, and dreams he *is* VOLDEMORT, in real time!
VOLDEMORT: Our Plan to get the Thing is going badly and I’m going to torture a few of you. There, done.
HARRY: (waking up) Ack! The Thing—it’s in the Department of Mysteries and he wants it.
HERMIONE: Yes, well, if you were better at Occlumency you wouldn’t even know this, which would be best.
They go out into the entrance hall to find EVERYONE gathered to watch TRELAWNEY making a gigantic tearful dramafest scene.
UMBRIDGE: I’m ever so sorry, dear, but you’re a disgrace at your job and are sacked. Bye bye now.
DUMBLEDORE: Pull it together, Sibyll. I’ll still let you live here, in a van down by the river or something. And I’ve found a replacement Divination teacher already. Look!
In through the door comes…FIRENZE the centaur, fresh from the Forbidden Forest!
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: DIVINATION CLASS NOW ALMOST AS SEXY AS CERTAIN OLD SPICE COMMERCIALS
PARVATI, LAVENDER, and OTHER CENTAUR FETISHISTS: Ermagherd, gorgeous centaur teacher!!!
HERMIONE: Horse legs, people. Horse legs.
DRACO/HERMIONE SHIPPERS: Ferrets, though, they’re pretty cute, am I right?
Then one night during Dumbledore’s Army basic training:
DOBBY: Run! She is coming! I will bash my nose against the wall now for my disrespect to a teacher!
The STUDENTS take off like RATS fleeing a…house belonging to the BLACK FAMILY, let’s say, but UMBRIDGE and her SQUAD (which includes DRACO) are faster.
UMBRIDGE: Caught one! Haha! To the headmaster’s, Potter.
FUDGE is there too, because doesn’t the Prime Minister always show up when you’re in trouble at school? He did with me.
FUDGE: So, breaking school rules about secret groups, are we?
FUDGE: We have a witness.
They bring in CHO’S STUPID FRIEND MARIETTA, who now has HERMIONE’s “dirty rat” across her face in pustules.
UMBRIDGE: She said Dumbledore’s Army is a thing.
DUMBLEDORE: Interesting. Any proof? Maybe just nod if this is true, Marietta?
He winks at KINGSLEY, who sneaks across the room and jinxes MARIETTA, who shakes her head.
UMBRIDGE: Okay then, explain THIS.
Oh no! She produces the list of members of Dumbledore’s Army!
DUMBLEDORE: Ah, very good. You caught me. It’s my army. Potter had nothing to do with it.
HARRY: Yes I did!
DUMBLEDORE: No you didn’t.
FUDGE: Do I get to arrest you, Dumbledore? This is the best day ever.
DUMBLEDORE: Ah, you thought I’d “come quietly”? Sucks to be you.
**spells flying everywhere**
**unconscious OBNOXIOUS MINISTRY PEOPLE**
DUMBLEDORE: Be good, Harry. I am officially on the lam, peeps. (vanishes!)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: IN WHICH EVERYONE IS ENTIRELY IMMATURE
UMBRIDGE: New decree. I am now Headmistress of Hogwarts.
REST OF HOGWARTS (except SLYTHERINS): (rolling up their sleeves) Challenge accepted.
BOOM! Unstoppable fireworks begin zooming all over the inside of the castle.
FRED and GEORGE: (saucy wink)
MCGONAGALL: Oh dear. I wouldn’t dream of interfering with the headmistress’ domain, so Professor Umbridge, if you could deal with this?
READERS: Srsly, we <3 McGonagall so hardcore.
CHO: Hey Harry, sorry Marietta told on us. She’s the best, though, really, if you get to know her.
HARRY: Are you mental? She sucks.
CHO: Well, Hermione sucks for jinxing that paper without telling us.
HARRY: Well, Hermione’s cooler than YOU.
CHO: Well, if THAT’s how you feel.
HARRY: YEAH IT IS.
Moment of silence for the demise of the CHO/HARRY relationship, such as it was.
HARRY grumps off to SNAPE’s office for Occlumency. While SNAPE leaves him alone there a few minutes, HARRY of course does something totally irresponsible and dips his head into the Pensieve where SNAPE’s sacred adolescent memories are stored. Behold! SNAPE and JAMES (HARRY’S DAD) and SIRIUS at age fifteen-ish!
JAMES: Huh huh, hey Snivellus, you’re ugly. I have cooler hair than you. Did Lily notice my hair today, Sirius?
SIRIUS: How could she not, bro?
JAMES: C’mon, Snivelly, rise to the bait. You exist and therefore I need to hex you.
SNAPE: *&^%@! (**and some spells**)
JAMES: Naughty naughty.
JAMES flips SNAPE up into the air upside-down to show his My Little Pony underpants to the whole of Hogwarts.
LILY: LEAVE HIM ALONE!
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Hello, Lily! Nice to see you join in.
JAMES: I’ll leave him alone if you’ll go out with me. No, I don’t mean that in a creepy way! Not that there’s any other way to take it…
LILY: Ugh, you’re all idiots. (stomps off)
MODERN SNAPE hauls HARRY out of the memory.
SNAPE: We are so done, and you will tell no one what you saw ever ever ever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: WIZARD SCHOOL DROPOUTS, NO GRADUATION DAY FOR YOU…
HERMIONE: Why aren’t you taking Occlumency anymore?
HARRY: For…reasons. Hey listen, I really need to talk to Sirius.
HARRY: For reasons!
(Because he can’t say, “I just found out my dad was a huge douchebag twenty-five years ago, so obviously that’s an emergency.”)
FRED and GEORGE: We’ll be creating more pandemonium tomorrow at five, so you could sneak into Umbridge’s office then and use her fireplace, i.e., the only unpoliced one in the castle.
HARRY: Will do!
HARRY: (at five o’clock, via UMBRIDGE’s fireplace) Sirius!
SIRIUS: Hey man, what’s up?
HARRY: I saw a memory of Snape’s and learned you and my dad were tremendous douchebags when you were my age. What gives?
SIRIUS: Aw, haha, we were young and full of roguish mischief…
HARRY: Someone’s coming, got to go!
FILCH comes in to pick up the “Approval for Whipping” forms (I’m not making this up), then dashes out again in glee. HARRY follows him. FRED and GEORGE have been cornered for their pandemonium, and all of Hogwarts has gathered to see how this goes down.
UMBRIDGE: Let the whipping commence!
FRED: I think not. George? Shall we, sir?
GEORGE: Let’s, my good fellow. Accio brooms, and farewell educational nonsense!
Their brooms come crashing through the door. They hop on and leap into the air.
FRED: Fellow students, come visit us at our new joke shop in Diagon Alley where you can give US gold for our dangerous magicopharmaceuticals!
GEORGE: Keep the revolution alive, my sisters and brothers!
STUDENTS, READERS, and even PEEVES all give them a standing ovation as they soar out of Hogwarts to freedom.
READERS: I might have even just forgiven them for all their seriously gross things!
CHAPTER THIRTY: HAGRID’S LATEST ILL-ADVISED PROJECT
Apparently after that performance, HOGWARTS STUDENTS get into the habit of saying “One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley,” which, needless to say, delights PERVY READERS. Meanwhile, HOGWARTS STUDENTS are joining PEEVES in causing as much mayhem as possible for UMBRIDGE to deal with. The school has basically been declared a national disaster area, but classes continue anyway.
HAGRID: Harry, Hermione! Sneak off into the forest with me so I can finally show yeh why I’ve been pummeled into a mass o’ bruises lately.
So HARRY and HERMIONE go along and find…
HAGRID: This is Grawp! He’s me little brother. “Little,” haha, funny when he’s the size of a cathedral and has to be restrained with eighty-five ropes holding ‘im down, eh?
HAGRID: Aw, look, he needed a new home! And ‘e doesn’t mean to hurt me, he’s just so strong, y’see. Anyhoo, Umbridge is bound to throw me out soon, so after I’m gone I need you two to come teach ‘im English. And all about emojis and stuff.
HARRY: I don’t know why I keep defending you when people say you do perilously stupid things, Hagrid.
MAGORIAN (a CENTAUR): Get out of the forest. We’re pouting at all humans right now because Firenze dumped us for you, and we’ll attack next time without mercy. But we won’t hurt kids. Remember that for a future chapter.
RON: OMG! Gryffindor actually didn’t lose at Quidditch! Weasley IS IN FACT YOUR KING! Does…does anyone care?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: HARRY POTTER AND THE FINAL EXAMS
In the midst of the chaos, the FIFTH-YEAR STUDENTS are facing down their O.W.L. exams. HERMIONE is studying a page showing how to turn an owl into a pair of opera glasses, for example.
READERS: “When are we ever going to use this in real life?” would be a relevant student question here.
The OFFICIAL EXAMINERS arrive…
READERS: Oh man, given how bureaucracy has been torturing Harry so far, I bet this is going to be brutal.
CHARMS EXAMINER: Good job!
HERBOLOGY EXAMINER: Oh bravo!
POTIONS EXAMINER: Nice!
CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES EXAMINER: No prob!
ASTRONOMY EXAMINER: Well done so far…er, everyone please ignore the shouting and fighting coming from the lawn below…um…
STUDENTS all swivel their telescopes down and check it out: HAGRID is getting sacked! But he’s resisting! He’s throwing off six of UMBRIDGE’S CRONIES!
MCGONAGALL: Stop, you cowards.
The CRONIES stun MCGONAGALL with a passel of laser-tag spells! How dare they??
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Very excusable yelling from Hagrid here, I would say.
ASTRONOMY EXAMINER: So…that went well. Goodnight!
HARRY literally falls asleep in his History of Magic exam the next day, and dreams himself straight into VOLDEMORT’S mind again.
VOLDEMORT: Hey Harrrrry, I have Sirius here in the Department of Mysteries, and I’m torturing him! Tee hee!
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: HELP ME, SNAPEY-WAN KENOBI, YOU’RE MY ONLY HOPE
HARRY: Aaaagh! Ron, Hermione! Voldemort’s got Sirius in the Department of Mysteries and we’ve got to save him!
HERMIONE: Okay first, how can you be sure, and second, how the hell would we get in there, and third…
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: My my, Harry Potter is definitely the champion! I doubt anyone will catch him now!
HERMIONE: Please stop yelling. Maybe stick your head in Umbridge’s fire again and at least check that Sirius isn’t home?
LUNA, NEVILLE, RON, and GINNY: Got your diversion covered. Go!
HARRY: (head in the fire in UMBRIDGE’s office) Kreacher, is that you? Is Sirius by any chance in the Department of Mysteries being tortured by Voldemort at the moment?
KREACHER: (gleefully) And he will never return, muhahaha!
HARRY doesn’t get a chance to yell at him, because UMBRIDGE hauls him out of the fire! And with the help of DRACO and other CRONIES, she’s caught GINNY, RON, HERMIONE, LUNA, and NEVILLE too!
UMBRIDGE: Tell me everything, Potter.
UMBRIDGE: Snape, in here, please?
UMBRIDGE: Veritaserum. Now.
SNAPE: You used it all up already. Can I go?
UMBRIDGE: Probation for you! You suck!
HARRY: Wait, Snape’s in the Order…hey Snape! Dog at the Place with the Thing!
SNAPE: Taking drugs again, I see, Potter. Sad. (leaves)
HARRY: All right, well, it was a long shot.
UMBRIDGE: If the Dementors I sent after you to get you out of the Ministry’s way didn’t silence you, you meddling kid, then the Cruciatus Curse will!
HARRY: YOU sent those? Before you even met me and I gave you reason to hate me?
HERMIONE: No, Professor, don’t! I’ll confess! (sobbing in Best-Actress-award-worthy performance) Just…come into the woods and we’ll show you the…the secret weapon Dumbledore was making us build.
UMBRIDGE: At last! Draco, get out of here, I want all this glory for myself. Lead the way, girl.
DRACO: (pout) My father will hear about this.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: CENTAURS AND THESTRALS AND GRAWP, OH MY!
HERMIONE leads UMBRIDGE and HARRY into the Forbidden Forest.
HERMIONE: Just a little deeper here…yeah, this way…oops, look, centaurs!
MAGORIAN: You were warned, humans. Take the grown-up.
The CENTAURS seize UMBRIDGE and carry her away screaming.
READERS WITH CENTAUR FETISH: (pout) SHE doesn’t deserve that kind of fun.
OTHER CENTAURS: You know what, actually, take the kids too.
GRAWP: (crashing through the trees) SAVE HERMY!
GRAWP THE GIANT gets in a fight with the CENTAURS, and in the melee, HARRY and HERMIONE escape. They rejoin NEVILLE, LUNA, GINNY, and RON.
HARRY: So ANY-way, back to my original plan. Ron and Hermione, you coming to the Department of Mysteries with me?
RON and HERMIONE: I suppose.
GINNY, LUNA, and NEVILLE: Bring us! We’re in Dumbledore’s Army too.
HARRY: Yeah, but you’re like the three weakest dorks in the whole D.A., and oops I didn’t mean to say that outside my head.
RON: Dude, we have no way to get to London ultra-fast.
LUNA: Yes we do. Fly on the thestrals. (points)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY WALK INTO THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTER…OH, I GUESS ONE DOES
Luckily if you tell a bunch of thestrals, “Ministry of Magic, visitors’ entrance,” they totally know where to go! They took The Knowledge like all the London cabbies. So THE THESTRALS deliver OUR HEROES to the Ministry in record time.
MINISTRY OF MAGIC: We’re not going to let you so much as make a Grumpy Cat face at our representatives without getting your hand ripped open, but we’re happy to let you walk right into the Department of Mysteries. Here, have some visitors’ badges.
OUR HEROES: Sweet, that was easy.
HARRY leads his FRIENDS down the exact corridor he’s been having Voldemorty dreams about, and no one stops them; the place is empty.
DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES: We’re spinning the wall so you don’t know which door you just tried! But they’re all pretty cool. Start opening them and see.
ONE DOOR has a tank of BRAINS behind it.
ANOTHER DOOR has a seriously creepy ARCH WITH A FLUTTERING DARK VEIL at the bottom of the Auditorium of Death. We’ll come back to that in a minute.
ANOTHER DOOR lets you into a sparkly room with a slightly disturbing Bell Jar of Endless Death and Rebirth.
HARRY leads everyone past this to the Library Shelves of Dusty Glass Orbs, finds the aisle he keeps dreaming about, and picks up an orb labeled “Dark Lord and Harry Potter (souvenir snow globe edition).”
LUCIUS MALFOY: Good job, Potter. That’s an important prophecy we need in order for the Dark Lord to plan when he’s going to kill you and when he’s going to take vacations and go the eye doctor and stuff. So hand it over.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: THE BIG FIGHT SCENE SUMMED UP REAL QUICK-LIKE
Pretty much the entire ORDER OF THE PHOENIX bursts in, including SIRIUS, who isn’t being tortured after all. They start battling a group of DEATH EATERS. The precious prophecy gets smashed without anyone hearing what it said, and everyone gets injured, including RON getting wrapped up in BRAINS, which turn him into a giggle-monster making “Uranus” jokes.
DEPARTMENT OF SERIOUSLY GROSS THINGS: Yeah, I think we should count that. The brains, I mean, not the Uranus jokes.
But everyone will be okay ultimately, except…
BELLATRIX LESTRANGE (not only LeStrange but L’Annoying and LeCrazy) knocks SIRIUS into the ARCH WITH THE FLUTTERING DARK VEIL in the Auditorium of Death.
LUPIN: He’s dead.
READERS: Nuh-uh. No body, no death. He’ll be back, you’ll see.
ROWLING: Ahem. Right, well.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: AND A REAL QUICK FOLLOW-UP BATTLE
HARRY: Let me kill her. Let me kill her. Let me kill her.
VOLDEMORT: Hi! Oh but come on, you haven’t heard me give ONE monologue yet this book.
DUMBLEDORE: Nor will we.
In no time at all, DUMBLEDORE counter-spells all the pathetic spells VOLDEMORT throws, and VOLDEMORT follows the example of BRAVE SIR ROBIN and runs away with BELLATRIX.
FUDGE: (finally arriving with AURORS) You guys aren’t going to believe this, but I just saw You-Know-Who sprint by. Do you think he even had a proper visitor’s badge?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: DUMBLEDORE GETS TO DELIVER THE MONOLOGUE THIS TIME
HARRY rampages into DUMBLEDORE’s office, kicks over a chair, smashes some knickknacks, and plants his hands on the desk to stare DUMBLEDORE in the face.
HARRY: WHAT THE &^@% HAPPENED BACK THERE, MAN??
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: In fact, Harry racks up SEVEN caps lock rage lines in this scene. A new record for a chapter!
DUMBLEDORE: Yeah…I screwed up. I really should have done better with your Occlumency, or Voldy would never have tricked you into showing up like that.
HARRY: I AM HAVING GUILT ABOUT SIRIUS DYING. FIX IT.
DUMBLEDORE: Well, it’s true Kreacher lied to you, so that wasn’t your fault. Turns out he’s been cozying up to the Malfoys on his days off.
READERS and HARRY: Grr, I am *so* burning my S.P.E.W. badge.
DUMBLEDORE: And your hint to Snape about the Dog in the Place with the Thing, that worked. He got it and lit up the Bat-Signal to call the rest of us. But listen, here’s more stuff I should have told you long ago.
HARRY: OH, ABOUT TIME.
DUMBLEDORE: I sent that Howler to your Aunt Petunia. I make you stay with the horrendous Dursleys because blood relatives convey magical protection upon you.
HARRY and READERS: So…all this pure-blood bigotry…has some basis in truth? Ugh, I hate everything.
DUMBLEDORE: Then there’s this other bit. The prophecy. Yeah, I know it broke, but luckily I was right there when it was spoken. Here, check out my memory.
He conjures up a misty vision of TRELAWNEY:
TRELAWNEY IN VISION: For lo, it is like in Highlander, where there can be only one: either the Dark Lord shall kill the Chosen Kid or vice-versa.
HARRY: I…am either doomed to be a murderer or a murder victim?
DUMBLEDORE: (sigh) I know, right?
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: THE RETURN OF LORD THINGY (OFFICIALLY ACKNOWLEDGED, A YEAR LATE)
FUDGE: (via press conference) Yes, er, Lord Thingy is back. And Dumbledore is reinstated at Hogwarts. And Harry Potter’s an all-right kind of kid.
MCGONAGALL: You’ll also be pleased to know that I’m fully recovered.
HAGRID: And that Grawp’s loads better behaved.
UMBRIDGE: And that although I was rescued from the centaurs, I left Hogwarts in total disgrace, running down the path while Peeves whacked me with McGonagall’s walking stick.
HARRY: But I’m still upset about Sirius, so—oh, Nearly Headless Nick! You’re a ghost! How do I get in touch with other ghosts?
NEARLY HEADLESS NICK: It doesn’t work like that. For reasons. Sorry.
HARRY: *now just sad-emo, not ragey-emo*
LUNA: Hello. I’m putting up a friendly note asking bullies to return the stuff they stole from me so I can pack it and take it home.
HARRY: I am feeling…what is this…sympathy?? Huh. Can I help you look for the stuff?
READERS: I am feeling…what is this…that I’m suddenly a Luna/Harry shipper?
FRED and GEORGE: And don’t worry—we’re still around and are now wearing “jackets in some lurid green, scaly material”!
SECRETARY OF DEPARTMENT OF HORRENDOUS WIZARD-WORLD FASHIONS: Hello! Sorry I’m late!
HEAD OF DEPARTMENT OF CAPS LOCK RAGE: Final scoring, by my count, should anyone be curious:
Uncle Vernon: 6
Aunt Petunia: 1
Mrs. Weasley: 6
Mrs. Black (portrait of): 2
Madam Pince: 1