At first, Gwendolyn supports Trevor from the sidelines.
This week your humble Quibbler editor ran an event (helped significantly by the other committee members of course) and Witch Crafts take #1 was (imo) a success! We made a variety of beautiful (if mostly a tad small because I foolishly didn't double-check how big the chopsticks would be) wands, pipe cleaner Bowtruckles, various posters, chocolate frog boxes and more. There was even a dramatic Bowtruckle saga featuring Darth Bark v.s. the Chosen One, which I hope to post in its full glory next week (the main cast and the three-bean MacGuffin can be seen below though). As it stands, though, enjoy having a browse through some of this week's brilliant creations (and there is a little story in the mix there too - it is Fanfic Friday, after all).
Meet Gwendolyn and her son Trevor:
Today they have a photo shoot for a chocolate frog commercial.
At first, Gwendolyn supports Trevor from the sidelines.
She wants Trevor to do his best.
She gets all in his face because he isn't concentrating.
Trevor is not having fun.
Sixth week already, and finally I have another fanfic to post on a Friday! (Submissions from members very welcome... It can be a poem, an essay, a story - anything Harry Potter related really!) This one's by an anonymous author, starring Harry, Seamus, and some convenient Polyjuice Potion. Enjoy!
“Thank you so much for coming, mate,” Harry greeted Seamus who had just managed to climb through the window into Harry’s room.
“No worries man, as soon as I had stopped laughing about the fact that you turned your cousin into an actual pig, I came right away.”
Harry tried to look guilty but couldn’t avoid a little grin. “What would you have done if your cousin had eaten all the cakes your friends had sent you for your birthday?!”
Seamus started laughing again. “Brilliant, simply brilliant! I probably would have done something similar, although I might have accidentally blown him up in the process. Now, what do you want me to do?”
Instead of replying, Harry slowly raised a glass with a muddy, oddly blubbering substance in it.
“Polyjuice potion?! You want me to turn into your cousin?” Seamus exclaimed incredulously.
“Listen, I really don’t have a choice. Any other night I’d probably get away with it by making up some story about him staying at one of his friends, but tonight his Aunt Marge is coming over so he will need to be there. If you think I am lucky that the Ministry only told me off for using a spell, that will be of no difference if the Dursleys find out about this because they would probably let me starve to death in the attic before I could get to an official hearing.
“So, until I have figured out how to turn him human again, I will need you to take over and behave like Dudley.” Harry looked at Seamus desperately.
“Alright, guess I’ll do it, but don’t you think they’ll notice? I have no idea what your cousin is like!”
Harry gave a sarcastic life, “Oh, don’t you worry. Stare at the TV, only interact with them if you ask for more food and, most importantly, laugh if they insult me. My cousin’s basically got the emotional range of a teaspoon, so don’t you worry about your impersonation.”
Seamus nodded, looking not entirely convinced. He then held his breath, grasped the glass and drank the entire potion in one big gulp.
The doorbell rang. Immediately, a dog started barking menacingly outside the door.
“Aunt Marge has arrived,” Petunia screamed in her shrill voice and hurried towards the door, almost colliding with Dudley, who was slowly walking towards the kitchen. “I am sorry, Duddy boy, I didn’t see you there!”
Dudley let out a grunt and kept, somewhat awkwardly, moving down the hallway.
“Why don’t you go into the living room already?” Petunia said looking after him.
“Yes… right,” Dudley replied and stopped, slowly turning towards the stairs where Harry stood, gesturing towards a door to his left. Dudley nodded and went through.
In the living room, on the couch, sat the biggest muggle Seamus had ever seen. He was so big, in fact, he looked like Hagrid, in a suit, without the messy hair but with a lot more neck.
“Son, been over at some friend of yours for tea like I used to in my old days? Whatta boy!” he said with his booming voice, got up, and patted Dudley on the shoulder with his massive hands.
Dudley stumbled and laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, Mr D– Dad, I meant Dad!”
Vernon narrowed his eyes; he had obviously never heard his son speak that fast. At that very moment, an enormous dog sped into the room and started barking at Dudley. Before he could react, a woman as big as Vernon entered the room.
“Ripper!” she screamed, “silence!”
Seamus almost sighed out of relief, that dog one-third just as aggressive as Fluffy had almost blown his cover. Although he was to display emotions of the range of a teaspoon only, Seamus felt more than that. Pity for Harry, who had to endure this for years, disgust of their behaviour and fear that he wouldn’t be able to deal with this for one entire evening.
Suddenly, Marge had spotted him and before he realised what was happening, Seamus Finnigan received a smooch by Dudley’s Aunt Marge. Considering using an Obliviate charm on himself later, he sat down and avoided any response by turning to the TV. Apparently, as Harry had said, that was considered perfectly normal and none of the Dursleys paid attention to him when they sat down.
At last, a fanfic for me to publish! I hope you're all settling in well now, and coping with the workload. This week we held our first Butterbeer & Banter of term, which was great fun - go check out our Twitter (@ouhpsoc) for some of the highlights - but last week was Fanfic night, and I look forward to reading through and posting up some of the selection. BTW, members are more than welcome to email me their HP fanfics or.related writing whenever. This fanfic, however, is from the mind of "Lord Fredington the Third", with the prompt characters of Pansy Parkinson & Colin Creevey, and the concept of 'the American Dream' - I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did!
Warning: Mild swearing from the outset.
Colin Creevey was just beginning his seventh year at Hogwarts. Colin Creevey was a typical Gryffindor student, dreading his NEWTs at the end of the year. Colin Creevey was a bit shit. His greatest achievement in life was not being killed by a big snake but he tried not to think about that too much since peaking at 12 wasn’t a good look for a member of the supposed jock house.
Pansy Parkinson was also in her seventh year at Hogwarts. Pansy Parkinson had been held back two years. Pansy Parkinson was just a bit shit too. Together the two would go on a wonderful journey of self-discovery, adventure, and the everyday miracle of life. Together, they would rediscover the American Dream.
The first step in their plan was, naturally, to kill Harry Potter. He was a significant obstacle in their path to greatness and would have to be removed to hasten their ascent. Also he was a smug prick. Harry Potter was one of the greatest duelers of his generation and the two knew they weren’t strong enough to defeat him in a straight fight. It took months of planning but eventually they came up with a plan.
Harry Potter was walking down a street in London on his way to work at the ministry when the would-be murderers appeared in front of him.
‘Prepare to die Potter.’ Shouted out Pansy.
Harry drew his wand, a smug smile crawling onto his face, and prepared for a fight. Pansy and Colin then drew their own wands and the smile falling from Harry’s face was almost audible. His gaze lowered to stare down at their wand hands, revealing the only weapon powerful enough to defeat him. They had taped their wands to their wand hands! Without the power of expelliarmus Harry knew that he had no hope of victory. A moment's pause and then he quickly turned and ran away down the street.
Pansy shouted out ‘Avada Kedavra,’ and Harry fell dead on the ground. A few seconds later he started to move again. Apparently he took prophecies about living way too seriously. The pair launched a few more curses at him and finally he stopped moving for the final time. The great Harry Potter was dead. Pansy Parkinson and Colin Creevey had made their first steps on the road to rediscover the American Dream.
Disclaimer: No creative writing qualifications were hurt in the making of this monstrosity.
Dahria Kuyser is the current editor of The Quibbler. While she is unfortunately a Muggle, she takes great pride in the fact that she has no idea quite how many times she’s read the Harry Potter series, and in the fact that her trivia on the Wizarding World is far more extensive than that of the Muggle one. When she isn’t too busy practicing wand movements, she can be contacted through the Webmaster.
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