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Harry Potter and the Death of Harry Potter/2

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Chapter 2

Morning of Misery

TO SEE HIS Boycrazy� poster ripped into pieces was definitely not what Harry wanted when he woke up in the morning of the Quidditch game. The poster was a gift bought by him by his old friend Vincent, who was previously a goon of Malfoy, but had been expelled from Hogwarts for comitting "dark acts" (the meaning is still ambiguous). It was almost ten o'clock, and Harry had slept in because he didn't go to sleep until about three last night, committing gay acts with the hosuse elf. Hermione, who had violated the school code and entered the boys dormitory, again, was collecting the ripped pieces of the poster when Harry suddenly noticed her.

"Oh my god! It's a hairy monster! Look out Ron, I'll save you, for I love you!" Yelled Harry. Hermione had appeared to be a monster in his dream earlier, and he is still half immersed in its envrironment.

"Oh, like Sorriiie... I forgot like you were scared of everything. Like that is so gay..." said Hermoine, who was trying to act all typical-teenaged-girl-style. She had come to wake Harry Potter from his slumber because he had a big Quidditch match that day.

"I was just having my favorite dream, Hermione, and you ruined it. It's where Ron and I are together on a cruise ship with a bunch of Ron, Ricky Martin, and Elton John duplicates! You silly goose!" Said Harry, disappointed, and with tears in his eyes, still attempting to bask in the glory of this dream.

"You are the stupidest piece of crap in the world, aren't you Harry? I mean, with the nerdy glasses, witch (pun intended) you purposefully wear when you could easily buy new, cooler ones! Or wear contacts, for that matter." Said Ron, disgusted by Harry's dream. Ron's vision too, in the past few years had degraded, but he has resorted to contacts, which made one eye red and the other green. It apparently made him more mysterious-looking. As the events at Hogwarts are getting more dull by the day, he began changing eye colour every week. "And you always ask everyone if they wish to sleep with you! And every person has declined!"

"Notsa Everyonesa!" Said the male House Elf who suddenly popped out from under Harry's Blanket, eyes still weary and part of his body squished.

"Ugh... Gross...;" Hermione said with a disgusted look on her face. "Well anyway Harry, your game is in only three hours. You better perpare. Oh ya, Moron pukes and Garmeeto Par are waiting outside for you. We have conjured up some magical players for your team, because everyone else quit. And that elf can play to."

"Alright. Lets go Ron, you can watch my game. I'll dedicate my great game to you, my love." Said Harry, wiping some tears off his face with a sudden rush of determination.

"Uhhhhhh... how about no? I'd rather eat 10 slugs! Fucking Morons these days..." Said Ron, now drifting off to sleep. But he knew he had little choice. 4,500 fans were to attend this game and fill up the stadium. Ron will look weird if he's the only one not there from Hogwarts. He will try to keep his distance.


MORON PUKES HAD woke up promptly at six to practice some magical moves in preparation for the match. It appeared ovbious that their victory would be nothing less than a miracle. Moron, however, wasn't the kind of person that was afraid to lose, but then again he wasn't a big promoter of fair play, either. He was prepared to use whatever measures necessary to win, to ensure fame, and to surprise everyone. He had boiled fifty potions last night, with a new formula mixed with volumes of Vitamin C and Silver Nitrate. Several solutions had been tested on house-elfs, resulting in their deaths, but others had proven effective in the mirror effect of the magical powers of others, an art Pukes had learned from Professor Snape.

The morning wasn't a good one for Pukes. He had left one of his potion pots boiling from the night before, and when he entered his bathroom lab in the morning to relieve himself, a rush of gas escaped and made his face sting. He looked extremely red with several veins visible on his face. Already frustrated at the situation, he spent the next half hour looking for his wand, and with its failure, he decided to take a wooden stick kept in his drawer instead. It held basically the same powers, but wands looked nicer, and it reminded him of how he was victimized by that old guy who ripped him off when he first went to purchase it.

When he approached his door to get out of his dorm, he encountered Garmeeto Par, who had slammed the door in his already half-ruined face, which was now bleeding in several spots. He also heard a sudden crack, and saw his wand in the threshold broken in half. "Goddammit!!!" He cursed.

He went into the bathroom with the least breathing possible, tried to wash the blood off and cover up his various scars with his hair. As he turned on his blow-dryer a big rush of hot air blew at his face, widening and heating his wounds. Completely outraged, he threw the blow-dryer on the floor, and ventured out of the door looking like a monster without looking at Garmeeto Par. Gar simply followed behind, and did not inquire what was wrong with Pukes. He respected Pukes' supremacy in his little circle, and did not dare to agitate Pukes.

They went and sat by a bench by Harry's dorm. Pukes stared into oblivion, trying to relax and control his anger without muttering a word. Garmeeto Par fell asleep, his head almost touching Pukes' shoulder, drooling like a pig.

Harry left his dormitory room in clean robes, carrying his wand in his right hand, to see Moron Pukes waiting. Garmeeto suddenly woke up and wiped his mouth.

"Harry, you finally woke up." Pukes said in a sarcastic tone.

Harry was still too sad that Ron hated him. His head was down and he tried to ignore Moron and Gar as he kept walking.

"You stupid shit, we've been waiting for an hour! Where the hell do you think you're going?" Moron said.

"OK...But I love him!" he shamefully replied, followed by a few deep breathes in an attempt to calm himself.

"Dammit Harry!!!" Pukes said as he slammed the bench handle and stood up.

"Who is it this time? Vincent? Malfoy? Ron again?" Garmeeto Par asked.

Harry did not answer but simply stood.

"Fuck it. Let's just go to the dressing room." Moron Pukes suggested.


PUKES, GARMEETO, HARRY and Dobby entered the Gryffindor dressing room, and geared up. They set up their brooms, Harry polished his as if it was made of silver, and they sat there to get ready. Moron was having a heated discussion with Garmeeto about the strategics of breaking the quaffle like a coconut, but Harry was still there whining silently.

Garmeeto noticed. "Fuck it Harry! We have to win this damn game, you should listen to us and stop thinking about Ron!" He yelled.

Harry looked up slowly with tears coming down his cheeks. "You just don't understand..."

"No, and I don't want to, 'cause I'm not a fuck like you! Now listen up!"

But then entered Niock and Song, who wore jerseys that actually appeared related to sports. Niock was #77, and Song was #4. They looked ready to kick some Harry ass (pun), and wanted to do some pre-game insulting first.

"Hey Harry, You will soon die in this game! We have a secret weapon, which we will reveal for our evil deeds!" Niock threatend.

"I am ready for some Quidditch! You and your goons will not defeat me, for I have the powers of goodness! You will soon feel the defe-" Harry Potter started to say, but was cut off by Niock shooting him with a Kamehameha (This time the Dragon Ball Z version). When the attack was over Harry was on the ground fried, with smoke rising up from his burnt clothing. He was crying and he got up to a sitting position.

Song started singing randomly, pointing at Harry, "Harry fucked a tree... Harry fucked a tree...La la la..."

Moron Pukes did not know how to face such a situation. His teammate was being completely ridiculed. He didn't particularly like Harry, so decided to leave it. Besides which, he wanted to save his supreme powers for the Quidditch game, and left the dressing room for a pre-game coffee at the "Potion-7 Restaurant". Garmeeto Par followed.

Seeing his backup depart, Harry was powerless. Jeetu Janitor had yet to arrive, and Dobby had already went to hide in a locker. Harry's wide range of magical powers were shut off easily by the Kamehameha attack, and would not recover for another day or so. This was devastating. Harry could've reported this to the School Misconduct Office, but decided to be safe instead. The Misconduct Office had connections to Oliezhik, and never bothered to deal with Slytherin's misconduct. Furthermore, Harry knew Niock was only part of the great Slytherin Quidditch Team, and Niock's teammates all have some kind of special powers reserved.

Song took out a tiny object, wrapped in plastic, from his pocket. He said to Harry, "Eat this Schlarg and we'll leave you alone until the game."

Harry took the "Schlarg", he opened the wrapper and put it in his mouth. It was a small crap-colored solid tube that looked like bird shit, a Sri-Lankan herbal delicacy that tasted more or less like toothpaste and Ketchup combined with medicinal soap. Harry was about to puke when he forced it down his throat with considerable difficulty.

Song was a man of his word, for now. He and Niock laughed, and left the dressing room.


LIKE HIS TEAMMATES, Mitchell Donald Chang had always had his share of nicknames. "McDonald's" was probably the most popular. But ever since his game-winning move in a recent Quidditch match he'd been rid of all ridiculous nicknames, and received ones like "I-C-Q" (He was the Seeker on the team) and "M-DOOBICK" (He didn't know who came up with that). Weird as it was, Mitch never bothered to remember all of them. To his friends on the Slytherin Quidditch team, he was simply "Mitch".

"Hey Mitch, get over here." Said Oliezhik, who was onto another round in his own First-Person Shooter Simulator on his dorm laptop.

Mitch looked attentively at the plasma wide-screen. The graphics were amazing. Oliezhik had ripped off some Unreal Tournament 2004 techniques and 3D-Max-Studios development to create this new interface. He specialized in computers and was an avid programmer.

"Holy crap, how long did it take you to make this?" Mitch asked.

"Ah... five days. I got some help from Robert, just the basic texture shit. Other than that it was all me!" He said proudly.

Mitch took the only other chair in Oliezhik's dorm and rolled it over to the computer desk. "Dude, can I try for a sec?"

"Yeah sure. Just let me finish this circle platform design." He exited the Simulator and opened 3D-Max Studios. He configured a couple of things, then casually asked, "So when's the Quidditch game?"

Mitch suddenly remembered and looked at the clock on the bottom-right corner of the screen, it displayed 3:27. "Holy shit! It's supposed to start at four!"

Oliezhik was outright surprised. He quickly shut off his computer, knowing they had to be there an hour before the game starts. "Ok... let's hurry up." Oliezhik said.

Mitch and Oliezhik headed to the Slytherin dressing room.

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This page was last modified on 4 February 2009, at 05:05.
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