In Robert’s latest attempt to mingle Muses and magic, Feather takes a hike with Fleur Delacour.
If you’ve read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, you’ll know that most of the action is piled up at the end. Harry and friends spend the rest of the book studying and snogging. Meanwhile, Dumbledore and (presumably) other rightminded wizards disappear on secret missions to track down Voldemort. Obviously, the author isn’t telling the whole story–which leaves plenty of room for volunteers to fill in the gaps.
In installment one, the Muses crashed the Prime Minister’s meeting with the new Minister of Magic. Afterwards they set out to intercept Dumbledore when he dropped Harry off at the Weasleys’ house. Unfortunately, they arrived too early and had to camp out for a couple of days (disguised as a traveling circus) while they waited. Ron’s father, of course, was delighted to have a chance to pump Chad for information about Muggle technology–but I haven’t actually written any of those scenes, and there’s no room to go into them here.
Instead, I’ve decided to describe Feather’s meeting with Fleur Delacour. I’ve never thought that Ms. Rowling was quite fair to Fleur. As a former exchange student who speaks other languages the way Fleur speaks English, I think it’s a cheap shot to make fun of her accent. She tries, poor girl–give her a break. I’ve also suspected that she had a lot more going on upstairs than JKR gives her credit for. (On the other hand, I would think that, wouldn’t I? Men have trouble seeing Fleur clearly, as the books make plain.)
Anyway, here is my revised Fleur, as seen through the hyperspecialized eyes of the Muse of Plants. Needless to say, neither Larry Gonick nor J. K. Rowling has approved any of this. Heaven knows what will happen if they ever find out. The time is daybreak… –R. C.
Early the next morning, while the other Muses were still sleeping, Feather left his tent and strolled out behind the Burrow to inspect the Weasleys’ garden. What he saw met with his approval. The bean pods were swelling nicely, and dahlias, zinnias, and asters were in full bloom. There was still work to be done. That bare spot near the verge would be a fine place for a pretty Lilium candidum, but they’d have to plant it soon. Some flowering bulbs for autumn would be nice, too. The roses needed deadheading, and the tomatoes could use water–it had been a dry summer, evidently. Still, all in all, an admirable job.
Lost in thoughts of roots and leaves, lime and manure and soil moisture, Feather barely noticed the sound of the Weasleys’ back door slamming. Nor could he see the young woman who had slammed it, as she dashed down the kitchen steps and strode across the lawn, fists clenched, chin high, fine-stranded silver-gold hair gleaming in the early light. As she rounded the boxwood hedge that framed the entrance to the garden, she plowed head-on into the Muse and knocked him off his feet.
“Oh, Monsieur Feath-air,” she said, flustered. “Please forgeeve me. I deed not look where I was going. I was in such a ‘urree. I–I just ‘ad to get out of zat house. Eet was so stupid of me…”
“Not at all, not at all,” Feather replied, as the young woman helped him up off the ground. He brushed off his shirt and inspected his wings, right then left. “Please don’t be upset, Miss–Fleur, did they say your name was?” A happy thought ballooned inside him. “That’s the French word for flower, isn’t it?”
“Mais oui,” Fleur said, brightening. “Est-ce que vous parlez français?”
“Bien sûr,” Feather replied. “Je peux parler n’importe quelle langue qui est nécessaire, si…” He stopped. “Are we speaking French?”
“Yes. Do you not weesh to? Eez eet deefeecult for you?”
“I wasn’t sure. Do you want to? Would it help you?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, please. Eet would help me very much.”
“Then I can,” Feather said. “To help people,” he went on in French, “Muses can do a lot of things–when we need to, for as long as we need to. We wouldn’t be much use if we could give advice in only one language.”
“Oh, thank heavens,” Fleur exclaimed, smiling with genuine relief. “It is so, so marvelous to have someone here who speaks French! France is not so far away, but I hardly ever go there. And whenever I speak English, I always feel that I am making myself ridiculous.”
“Oh, no, no,” Feather protested. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“You’re very kind, Monsieur Feather–Monsieur la Plume,” she said, laughing at her own wordplay. “But it is true, I know. I speak English quickly enough, but I can’t express myself very well. I run out of words whenever I try to say anything even a little bit complicated or interesting. And my accent is awful. People are always making fun of it, especially Bill’s sister and her friends. They may think I don’t notice their jokes, but they don’t try very hard to hide them. They call me ugly names behind my back.” She glanced nervously back at the house. “Would you mind if we left the garden? I came out here because I needed to take a walk and cool off for a while. We can walk together, if you like.”
They left by the back gate and found themselves on a country lane. The fence, Feather saw, was a tangle of honeysuckle vines and hawthorn and blackberry bushes: chèvrefeuille, aubépine, mûres. The blackberries might just be ripening–yes, a few were temptingly dark and plump. He looked up to see Fleur a dozen strides down the road and hurried to catch up.
“Why would anyone make fun of you?” Feather asked.
“Oh, I can’t blame them, really. When I first came here from France to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I made a bad impression. I was determined to win the tournament, and I’m sure that made me seem hard and cold and unfriendly. I was not…nice,” she said, using the English word. “And I was unhappy at Hogwarts and complained about it a little more than I should have done–well, a lot more.” She smiled ruefully at the memory.
“But you must understand, monsieur, I was homesick. Hogwarts was so different from what I was used to. All my life I have loved beautiful things–art, poetry, music. At Beauxbatons, my school in France, they taught us all those things. It was heaven. They cultivated us. We learned how to conduct ourselves as sorcerers. We studied moral philosophy and ethics–the greatest thinkers, both wizards and Muggles.” She used the French word for Muggle, moldu.
“Hogwarts wasn’t like that. All we learned there was how to do things–how to get what you want, how to keep people from hurting you, how to hurt them first. Fighting, always fighting! Children fighting the children of people their parents fought when they were at school. Even moldus outgrow that, but wizards there don’t. Sometimes I think it’s no accident that the Dark Lord is English–even if he did give himself a French name.”
Fleur led Feather onto a small trackway that veered off to the right toward a patch of woods atop a broad, low hill, its slopes purple with heather. In the meadow, the white flowers of late spring had given way to the pinks and reds of summer. Feather had not understood much of what Fleur had just told him, but here he was back on familiar territory. Underfoot he noted vetch, primroses, golden saxifrage. He was starting to get hungry and wondered, vaguely, whether Beauxbatons students learned to make beignets.
“Magic should be more than that,” Fleur said, “and there is more to life than magic. Words, for example. Not spells–words in French, words in foreign languages. I love the sound of them, how they feel in my mouth, how they taste. I love studying Latin, watching French words evolve backwards in time for thousands of years, changing letters, changing sounds, turning into something different and ancient and strange. I love thinking about all the people who spoke those words, reading their books and their poetry and learning their songs. What were they like, those people? What made them laugh? What did they dream?”
Images passed through Feather’s mind–the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, long-gone groves and fields and vineyards that had flourished along the roads to Casah and Nineveh, Khorsabad and Arbela. In his memory, every tree, vine, and flower was still as fresh and sharp as the first time it opened in the sun, but the people who had walked among them were shadows. What had they been like? And what songs had he hummed as he sowed and pruned and weeded, so long ago? He couldn’t remember.
They came to a stile. Fleur climbed over first and helped Feather to follow, awkwardly. On the other side, they left the track and began climbing the hill. Their legs brushed against wild garlic, silky-leaved mulleins, ox-eyed daisies.
“I love so many things,” Fleur said. “I love things that are sharp and fast and intense. I get that from my grandmother, the veela. Do you know the veela, Monsieur Feather? They are like birds, too, though not quite in the same way you are. They can fly without brooms, higher and farther and faster than any witch. They sleep in forests or at the bottoms of lakes, down, down in the cold. They feel the cold as much as we do, but they don’t care. It is what they have chosen. Men see them in wild places and try to follow them. When the men die, people say the veela lured them to their deaths.” Fleur tossed her head and sniffed. “That’s right, blame the woman. Not that the veela aren’t worth dying for. They are the most beautiful beings on earth, and they never grow old and ugly. They stay young for a long, long time, and then one morning they just walk into the sunlight and dissolve into air.
“The moldus have a ballet about a young human woman named Giselle, who becomes a veela. She saves her sweetheart’s life but has to leave him forever. It’s full of mistakes about the veela, of course, but it is still lovely and very moving. I saw Pietragalla dance it at the Paris Opera before I left France. When it ended, tears were streaming down my face so hard that I couldn’t walk. My sister Gabrielle had to lead me out of the theatre. Do you think anyone at Hogwarts has ever left a theatre blinded by tears? I never met one who had. After a while, I stopped looking. They had their world; I had mine.
“And then,” Fleur went on, “there is the problem of my beauty. You’ve noticed that, of course, and you can imagine the sort of trouble it causes.”
Feather looked at Fleur carefully. What was he supposed to have noticed about her? She looked Human. What else? He started ticking off her distinguishing characteristics. Habit of growth, Human normal. Symmetry, pronounced–much higher than normal. Her…exocarp…was smooth, unblemished, and, as far as he could tell, evenly pigmented. Feather frowned. “You look healthy and well cared for,” he said at last. “More than that–I’m sorry. I’m really not qualified to say.”
“Really!” Fleur’s eyes widened. “But that’s just– Really! Well, trust me, Monsieur la Plume, I am beautiful, and it does make life complicated. With men, for example. They take me seriously when they shouldn’t, or don’t take me seriously when they should. And other women, witches, don’t like me at all. I make them feel like moldues. It really is a sort of magic, being desirable. It makes people…help me with things, and gives me power over them. Even Dumbledore, I suspect, wouldn’t ignore me if I asked him for something, some special favor. He might not do anything really stupid for me, the way the others would, but I think I could make him think about it–maybe for just a few seconds, before he said no…
“But none of that really matters now, does it?” she said. “Not with the Dark Lord pounding on the door. Lord Vous-Savez-Qui. Celui-Dont-On-Ne-Doit-Pas-Prononcer-le-Nom.” Fleur’s eyes flashed. “Everybody else hates him because he is evil. Not me. I hate him because he is ugly, and because he wants to make everything else ugly, too. All the beauty in the world is in danger because of him. Everything I care about could vanish overnight, forever. I would give my life to save it.” She stopped in mid-stride and turned to face Feather. “Or would I?” she wondered. “Maybe even now, chère Muse, I’m not being entirely honest. I could be saying all these things just to make an impression on you. I do that sometimes.
“Well, we’ll see when the time comes what I am made of and what I really want, how honest I am and how…strong. It won’t be long now, I think. No. It’s very near. The veela part of me feels it coming. The veela are never wrong about things like that.
“One thing that will be true, whatever happens: I love Bill Weasley. I love him as much as I can imagine ever loving anyone–as much as any person can love another person, I think. And he loves me. He’s a good man, monsieur, good through and through. Very kind, very steady–not like me. I think we will be good for each other. I’m not sure his family understands that. Maybe they will, before it is all over.”
They had climbed most of the way up the gentle hill and reached the edge of its wooded crown. Feather’s eyes picked out ash and maple trees, age-old partners in this part of the world. Then he saw something unexpected. Just a few steps in front of them a young plum tree, 10 or 12 feet tall, stood alone on the outskirts of the crowd. Its fruits were ripening early; they would be ready in a week or two, Feather calculated. Prunus domestica, he thought. Nobody would have planted that here. Had some bird carried a fruit from another tree up the hill? It would have to have been a fairly large bird–bigger than Crraw, maybe–and he didn’t see any other plum trees growing nearby.
Fleur walked up to the tree, locked her fingers around its trunk, and leaned back, gazing up through the slender branches. “In Japan,” she told him, “the plum blossom is a symbol of courage. Do you know why? Because it blooms in the snow.” She looked at Feather and smiled. “And so,” she said, switching back to English, “eet seems Fleur has taught ze Muse of Plants something new about flow-airs.” She laughed, pulled herself back onto her feet, and unclasped her hands from the tree. Then she turned away, still laughing, as the sun began to burn away the mist from the meadow below them.
To Be Continued
That was EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That could have been one of the chapters in Harry Potter 6!! Well at least if the muses were in it…
Thanks, K/K! I had fun writing it. I learned a lot, too.
–Robert
lovely!
You could probably send that to Rowling or summat. Write the next installment faster, please!
That was really great! I always felt that JKR didn’t quite do Fleur justice. Write more, please!
Yeah, Fleur never really got all the attention she deserves. If you want to have a nice chapter with lots of exploding, have Ginny, Fred and George meet up with Kokopelli. Muahahahaha.
The next installment should come together faster. This one required a lot of research.
Kokopelli certainly has to visit Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. I’d also like Crraw to meet Hedwig, Urania to meet Firenze, and Pwt to meet Hagrid, maybe at the spider’s funeral. All of those scenes are still at the sketchy-idea stage, though, and the one I want to write next is out of chronological order. We’ll see what my fingers decide to type.
nice. that was cool!!! you really should send it to JKR. I’m sure it could get in a book. maybe even the first chapter of the 7. you know how random some of th efirst chapters are…
I think, at the end, koko should throw a pie at Voldemort. Now THAT would be funny.
“‘Dark Lord,’ huh? I don’t think so!” SPLAT!!!
Yesyesyes, that has definite potential.
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!! funny!!! noooooo… can’t breathe… too much laughing… hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!
… echhh… can’t breathe… i see the light…
jk
oh so THAT’s how voldie dies! I see…interesting…
awesome stooooooory…..you should definitely send it to jkr…i love the random plant comments by feather!!
If Voldemort dies, Harry will probably be inspired by Kokopelli and will invent a magic spell that creates an enormous pie made of love that goes splat in his face… And he’ll melt because he lacks the ability to love! Haha!
yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Koko: How you like me now!!
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Koko: Dark Lord? yeah right.
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!
Koko: oh yeah!! Who’s the Dark Lord now?!?!
You are an excellent author. A different style than JKR, maybe, more poetic, but I really like it. NEXT INSTALLMENT PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!
SPLAT!!!!!!!
Koko should get Chad to make him a Pie-Wand 600 that summons any kind of pie Koko wants to throw. Then, (inspired by Phoenix,) Koko SQUISHES Voldemort. Splat!
Yes, a nice, healthy splat would be nice.
A clean (well except for the bits of crust and custard)
and nice way to end a story.
I can see it now.
“Harry,” hissed Voldemort,
“You cannot kill me with a feeble wand.”
Harry’s eyes widened.
Suddenly, a black, small, teetering figure emerged through the demeters, cloaked like one, but not one. In his hand, there was a mysterious object.
‘A flat pie?’ Harry thought.
Voldemort, too, was staring at the object, engulfed in a sort of curiousity.
Now, the sillouette was right next to Voldemort, but it still remained a sillouette. The thing opened up a crumpled piece of paper and murmmered something to Voldemort. Voldemort nodded. Then the silloutte murmmered something about ending a book that was getting boring and too long and having a gift/dessert for him.
Voldemort looked utterly confused for a dark lord.
“Book? Someone’s writing a book about this? Now where is he?”
The silloutte then murmmered something about something Rolling with a J and a K.
Harry rolled his eyes. This thing made not sense. This was his only chance to get Voldemort. He sprinted towards him, and then suddenly he heard a ear-defeaning
SPLAT!
“Hrm?”
Voldemort was gone.
Nothing.
Suddenly, the sky lightened up and then a feeling of goodness flew within Harry. The silloutte waved, said something about ‘Today Voldemort, tommorow the world,’ and then left.
Hee hee hee.
haha! that’s good kitkat. eevil koko
mwahahahaha…
HAHAHAHAHA! THAT SHOULD DEFINATELY BE THE WAY IT ENDS!
somebody needs to send this to jkr. seriously. if you guys don’t i will. this is too funny!
no no. that was good, but it has to be longer-drawn-out. Uhh..
senditsenditsenditsendit!!!!!!! SPLAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SEND IT!!!!!!!!!!!!
SPLAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPLAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SPLAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OR 
SENDITSENDITSENDITSENDITSENDIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:)
WHO THE HECK IS KOKO???
Shall I begin on the Epic Journeys of Koko?
Chad: (in robotic, military voice)Darth Vader, I mean Darth Koko. I must apologize that Skywalker I mean Urania’s fleet has again out flown us.
Darth Koko: Commander Chad, you have failed me for the last time.
Chad: *reaches to throat expecting to be chocked*
AAAGGGHHH!
Darth Koko: *gives war cry*
SPLAT!!!!
Chad: Erck ACK Erck Edwg! Pethoey!
Darth Koko: Do not underestimate the power of the dark side, young Urania.
In the Ship of Urania: (Han Feather) NOOOOOOO!
Urania: Father.
Darth Koko on his ship: Daughter.
Urania: Why didn’t you tell me?
Darth Koko: *breathes like Darth Vader*
Backstage:
Koko: I AM NOT GOING TO BE URANIA’s FATHER EVER!!!! TAKE THAT!
SPLAT!
AND THAT!
SPLAT!
Director: Oh no, it’s the flavor-changing pies again!!!!!
To be continued.
heehee!
sw/muse is an awesome combo! rock on!
um…kitten? did you…erm…ask who koko was?? are you feeling ok? does your head hurt? you’re sure? well… lol!
KitKat, I really like your Muse/Star Wars fanfiction (#25). What happens next?
ok, Belgariad-Muse fanfiction!
BelUrania: ok, BelKoko, turn over the rock!
BelKoko: ok. flip over, rock! *rock flips over*
BelUrania: no, no!
BelKoko: wha- what did I do wrong?
BelUrania: well…”flip” is such a dumb word.
BelKoko: so?
BelUrania: so? no one will take us seriously if we say things like, “flip”!
BelKoko: well, I didn’t want to be in this dumb story anyway! So too bad for you! *turns rock into giant pie* hyah!
BelUrania: auuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUGGGGGghhhh! *runs away*
BelKoko: *splat*
Continuation of FanFiction STAR WARS
Director: Cut scene.
Koko: Aagh. Why me? Why do I have to be Han Koko?
Director: You didn’t like Darth Koko.
Koko: Well, if this doesn’t work, I want to be Koko Skywalker. Or Chewbacca Koko.
Bo: Erm…where’s the tryouts for princess leah?
Director: *sigh* I can already tell you if you made it or not.
Bo: Erm…mooo?
Director: No.
Bo: *trots away mooing in grief*
Urania: Where’s the tryouts for Princess Leah?
Director: Urania, you are Luke, not Princess Leah.
Urania: Hey, that parts for a boy.
Director: Fine, fine.
Urania: MAY MEE MY MO MOO.
Bo: (in background) I can do that Moo part better than Urania ever will!
Director: BO, stay out of this!
Bo:Erck. MOOO!!!
Director: Okay.
Urania:
(in a high-annoying voice)
Luke! I love you! Somehow I knew you were my brother all along!
Director: *Roll eyes* FINE!!! RESUME PLAY!!!
Chad: Oh yes, Director. My own premade R2D2s are ready and also the 3po’s.
Director: Good. NOW RESUME PLAY!!!!
Mimi Kanobe: I need a ship.
Han Koko: Yeah…
Mimi Kanobe: C’mon, Hanny boy.
Han Koko: I’ll get you one for $$123,456,789,123,456,789,123,456,789,123,
456,789,123,456,789 to pay of the bounty on my head.
Mimi Kanobe: $0.50, cheapo.
Han Koko: OOOOhhhh. Somebody’s not had any lessons in negotation….
Mimi Kanobe: Fifty Cents.
Han Koko: That’s like gonna pay off .78889999999999% of my bounty.
Mimi Kanobe: Fifty Cents.
Han Koko: 789 billion.
Mimi Kanobe: Fifty Cents
Han Koko: 789 billion.
Mimi Kanobe: Fifty cents.
Han Koko: 789 billion.
Mimi Kanobe: Fifty Cents
Han Koko: AAAAGGGGHHH!
SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT
SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT
SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT
SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT
I’M GONNA BE CHEWBACCA!!!!
*runs into camera*
Will be continued after techincal problems are fixed…
Would you rather have Muse
Shakespeare
Wagner
Charles Dickens
Lord of the Rings?
That’s not her fault!!!!!! She got on to this page with my help!!!! Kitten, I’m going to bring all the issues of muse that I can find with me next time I visit! And I shall send you the Nov/Dec issue!!!!!!!!! In the meantime check out http://www.musefanpage.com … That sould clear up some of your questions!!!!! Go to the Muse Glossary!!!!!!!
did i miss something? kricket? what’s not who’s fault?
I love Muse and LoTR, but Charles Dickens wins hands down. His brand of humor is so perfect, and those long, intricate plots are one of the delights of my life.
It’s not Kitten’s fault that she doesn’t know what Koko is! I’m going to send her the Nov/Dec issue after I finish it…
wait, she’s supposed to go to.. this webpage.. to find the answer to what she was asking on this webpage?
oooh when she asked who koko was..way back there…
koko is the muse of tunes and tricks. he plays a flutish oboe type thing and throws pies at people. he totally rocks!
whatever… I mean not the blog part of this web page!!!!!!!! duh..
I think Bo should be Leah!
ok…
Hemhem: Lord of the Muses. (Not LOTR, Lord of the Flies)
Koko: Gah, Urania is carrying around a telescope! Blasphemy! Get her!
Urania: I swear it wasn’t me!
Others: Rahhhhh!
SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATSPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT
Urania: Bleh.
Koko: She’s dead!
Pwt: Mimi threw the most pies and killed her!
Others: Yeah, get Mimi!
Mimi: Adda-wibba-
Others: SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATSPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATSPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATSPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATSPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATSPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLATSPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT
Koko: Congradulations. Let’s feast on their flesh.
Others: Yay!
(Aeiou, Crraw, and Chad peer out of bushes)
Chad: They killed Urania and Mimi!
Crraw:(Translating Aeiou) We must avenge them! Get Koko!
Chad: Right!
A, C, and CR: SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT!
Muahaha, how about Emperor Pwt-Patine?
yeah!!! go Crraw!!!!! ah! run for your lives!!! it’s Koko!!!
SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!! SPLAT!!
RUN!!!!!!
I know that this isn’t about this thread.. but.. does this sound like something you would like to read?
Prologue
Silently, the old man stepped into the circle, and, lowering his eyes to the ground, started to mutter incantations. The trees suddenly sparkled with an unearthly light. The old man took no notice. The trees began swaying so much that they looked like they were dancing. In fact, they were dancing Faster and faster they spun around the old man yet still he took no notice. Suddenly a loud crack interrupted his mutterings. He looked up just as raindrops the size of your fist came pouring down onto his astonished face. He knew what was happening. Horrified, he instinctively took a step back.
“No,†he uttered. “NO!â€
Then he quickly turned and ran as fast as he could out of the circle. After a few steps, he looked behind him and was horrified to see a lighting bolt the size of Consket racing after him. He ran faster yet he knew there was no escape. Just before the bolt reached him he yelled, “Awaken Lady of the Woods, awaken!!!!†Then the bolt struck him dead.
* * *
Miles away in a forest almost identical to the one the old man died in, the trees sparkled. A weeping willow standing dead center in the middle of the forest swayed gently. Then it began to change. Branches melded into arms and legs while flowers and leaves molded into hair. What was once a weeping willow was now a beautiful lady with long brown hair and forest green eyes. She looked around and disappeared with a soft twang like the sound you hear when you shoot an arrow.
The Lady of the Woods was back.
uh, sad… but good writing.
why not put that on the writing thread??? you know, that old thing that people have been avoiding…
?????????????
Phoenix- It gets better farther into the story…
HELLLLOOOO????????
hi, y’all!
HI!!!!!!!!
heeeeeey peoples…whazzup?
????? nothing I guess…
write what you mean to say backwards day!
Today nice is weather the
Harry woke up with a start. Wasn’t there something missing to this day? No noise…no dung bombs…no lectures from Hermione about the importance of rising early in a world of witchcraft. He yawned and stretched and stared around him. The boy’s dorm was locked, and everyone was still asleep so no wonder. He reclined back on his pillow and then woke up with a start to the see the clock reading…..1:oo!
That was the first time Hogwarts had heard a scream for Harry Potter.
Ron and Neville came running in, their faces smeared with pumpkin juice.
“Harry?†Chimed Ron, holding back a smirk.
“I hope you’re all right, but we just learned that all that stuff about defeating voldemort was a lie.â€
Harry woke up (really) screaming.
This time, it was regular.
Ron and Neville were standing over him. Peeves was splatting dung balls around generously, and Hermione was talking about the importance of not cloaking on self in black for two reasons….
“One because it makes you look gothic and two, because nobody can see you!â€
She rubbed a red bump on her knee.
“And not to mention being as small as a dwarf and wearing ridiculous spikes on your head.â€
Harry scratched his head.
Ever sense Voldemort had died, he had suddenly been void of any talents he had had besides being as caring as a nurse. He had flunked all his subjects.
For some reason, having spikes, wearing black all around, and being as small as dwarf seemed to describe that little guy who had defeated Voldemort.
“Muttering fellow, that’s right…†he thought aloud.
Suddenly the door flew open.
“The name’s Kokopelli.†Muttered the muttering fellow.
“Not Ken, Kidmore, or Kristopher. Kokopelli.â€
He paused and then continued.
“Until a recent welcome with your new headmaster, McGonigal, I did not realize how enormous my favor was for you.â€
Harry rolled his eyes.
“And so what. anybody could have killed Voldemort.
Ron and Neville smirked.
“Just like anybody could write Melu in the Dungeons of Erock.â€
Hermione went as purple as a plum.
“Shut up, ron.â€
“You, book worm.â€
I shall continue my story each day.
-KitKat
what? totaly not following that…
I’m lost…
chimed ron w/who??
still lost…
what is this thing? way too long.
this is the Muse Blog ya know? Welcome defcon pilot!!!!!!!!! technically we’re just commenting on Feather meeting Fleur in our addition of Harry Potter 6, and also KitKat’s story in comment #52.
long is cool. it takes up time. time is something i need to kill or i’ll end up.. *GASP!!!* shock and horror!!! doing homework!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
what does too long mean? lol
I have to do an essay on hp and jkr. really. it’s due friday. *reads hp and jkr bios like a mad person* and i get do show an hp movie! *jumps up and down* YAY! so i get to read and rewrite the hp series all night!!!!!!!!!
The Random Button brought me here. I think it’s fantastic. So was the first part. Was there ever another installment? If not, will there ever be another installment? (Please?)
I’m glad you liked them! There was one more installment. Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to write for fun nowadays.