A/N: OK, I wrote this Pre-HBP. I would also like to mention that English is my second language and I'm getting a bit rusty in writing it, I haven't for quite some time which mayhaps may affect my writing. Nevertheless, try to enjoy the story!


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything related to that name.












Feel the music, dance to the music

by

rufiel












Look, an excited wizard!


Wanna know why he's excited? Sure thing, I'll tell you.


He lives with evil, evil relatives, and non-magical at that! And when I say evil, I don't mean they forbid him to hold parties every other weekend! No, they treat him worse than dirt, they do! Make him do lot's of chores while their ickle fatty-son-son keeps lazing, a word related to the word lazy, around, sitting on his fat butt picking up girls over the Internet!


But now, now he's going to get away from them! After only three days, three, he will be picked up by a group of red-haired wizards! Red-heads, you heard me right. Amongst them will be a single girl, which goes by the name of Ginny Weasley! Amongst her favourite hobbies are: Flying, telling her brothers off and eating her mother's cooking!


As he's waiting, the excitement growing by every minute, his uncle suddenly yells at him in a not so polite way:


“BOY!!!” That was his uncle's nickname for him, you see. “SOMEONE… SOMETHING'S ON THE PHONE ASKING FOR YOU!!”


“TELL IT TO WAIT A SEC!” Harry yelled back down, before rushing downstairs to check out what it was that was waiting for him on the other side of the line.


When he came down he went to his uncle, picked up the phone and asked his uncle to leave the room. Which he, surprisingly, did.


“Hello,” Harry said.


“Hi. Uhm, I'm a dark wizard, and I'm here to kill you over the tone.”


“You mean phone. And as you used the word tone, which is probably short for the word fellytone, I assume you are indeed not a dark wizard but instead a Weasley. Am I right?”


“You may be.”


“And seeing as your voice looks decidedly female, and at the same time young, I assume you are Ginny. Am I right?”


“You very well may be, but that's not important at the moment. The important thing is that I'm now stranded in a Muggle jail in London and they only gave me one tone-call…”


“And you decided to try and prank me at the beginning, wasting your only call. Smart, you are,” Harry interrupted.


“That's beside the point. Now, would you please get… what was it again… 3 Muggle money, to get me out. The jail is,” and she told Harry where the jail was. I won't tell you, dear reader, since you might go over there an get Ginny's old police-files, sell them on e-Bay and earn a million dollars. I wouldn't let you for all the money in the world!


So, Mr. Potter did the very right thing. He did what he had to do. He did what he had been waiting to be able to do since he heard her voice.


He went to the bathroom, sat down and allowed his shit to visit the toilet. Damn, he had been all uptight the whole conversation, he needed this!


After that very pleasant experience he went out to rescue Ginny Weasley. Rescue her, that very beautiful thing, rescue…


Wait, did Harry think of her as beautiful? Does he maybe want to be with her?


No, it was I, the storyteller, who thought of her as beautiful. Yes, storyteller. No, storyteller is not a silly word. Shush now.


So, Harry indeed went out and walked towards the jail. On his way overthere he met Dean, but of course he didn't ask him to come along. I mean, as anyone can see, Dean could actually rescue Ginny instead of Harry, and we can't have that, now can we? So Harry, after stopping in an ice cream shop that sold just the perfect chocolate ice dream, he was there. In front of the prison.


He stepped inside.


He saw that fat Muggle guard eating his donut with a smile. Using his über-ability that won't be revealed before the twenty-forth chapter of the seventh book, making this fiction completely illegal in the challenge, he felt that the guard carried two rifles, one in his stomach and one in his arse, so he was careful not to make any … fast moves.


But seeing as fat cops are the stereotype of American cops, this can't be true, now can it? No, it cannot. So, as you all should have realised … a few words ago, Harry stepped in to find the prison completely empty.


So, seeing as the new Mafalda Hopkirk, Professor Binns, had recently been caught by Death Eaters and killed …


Oops, another spoiler!


Oh, bother.


So, seeing as the new Mafalda Hopkirk, Professor Binns, had recently been caught by Death Eaters and killed, noone was watching over wizard teens, making sure they didn't use magic and such boring stuff, so Harry could mutter a simple Alohomora and he got to Ginny's cell. Surprisingly, another Alohomora spell also did the trick there. Can you believe it?


“Hi,” he said, surprisingly Clint Eastwood-like, although I, the storyteller, would not know, seeing as I haven't seen a movie starring Eastwood for like, ever!


“Hi,” she replied, surprisingly Clint Eastwood-like, which is downright scary when you think about it…


“So… Why r u in jail?”


“Don't use r and u, if you'd please!”


“Well then… So, why are you in jail?”


“Well, I have to admit, it is a bit embarassing…”


“I already guessed that, I mean, you're a witch in Muggle jail!”


“… Right. OK, you see, I was kinda just, with my friends at this party at Dean Thomas' house, and there was a lot of smoke in there, although the house was not on fire, I don't understand how and I'm not planning to, and… Right, breathe.”


She breathed.


“So,” she continued, “suddenly… well, I can't exactly remember, I just know what the fat American cop that really doesn't exist told me afterwards.”


There was silence.


“And…?” Harry asked.


"And I was suddenly dressed like a wicked horse, don't ask me how<i> horses</i> dress, and wicked ones at that. And I was singing this really ridiculous song that doesn't make any sense at all! OK, I'll sing it to you like the fat American cop that really doesn't exist sang it to me."




Where's the air-conditioner? Where's the air-conditioner?
Where's the air-conditioner? Where's the air-conditioner?
It broke down.
It broke dow-hown!
I'm bathing in my sweat.
That is really fine ‘cause, the air-conditioner’s broken. It is broken.
A visitor visits me.
That is really fine ‘cause, the air-conditioner’s broken. It is broken.
Do I hear you clap? Yes!


Her voice suddenly changed, and she began to… not rap, it was more like, talking fast…


The air-conditioner's broken and I take a shower but the shower doesn't work ‘cause the air-conditioner’s broken and that doesn't make sense but I don't really care ‘cause it doesn’t make sense and the air-conditioner's broken.


And now she began to sing again.


Woohoo!
The air-conditioner's broken
That is really fine ‘cause, I don’t take a shower. No, I don't take a shower. I'll bath in a basket.


She had stopped singing now and was dancing to an imagined tune. Soon, she began to sing again, but danced too nevertheless.


WAAAAAAAAAA!
The air-conditioner's broken, that's really fine yeah.
I like those sort of things, they are just fine yeah.
But before that, comes the air-conditioner-repair-man, and fixes it all, but I just say “Nay, Break it down.”
The air-conditioner's broken. I don't really care. I'm bathing in my sweat. That is really fine yeah.
Woohoohoo


And Harry really wanted to be a part of this all, so he said: “The air-conditioner's broken.”


Damm, damm, damm, damm, damm, damm, damm

“The air-conditioner's broken.”

Air-conditioner, air-conditioner, air-conditioner, air-conditioner, woodupholstery
Woodupholstery break, and they've got air-conditioner's. Also, also in, all those stores!
Buy yourself, some french fries, the air-conditioner's broken, then you'll be ho-hotter.
And eat an apple pie with that.
That is really fine ‘cause, I’m bathing in my sweat. The air-conditoner's

“Broken.”

It is brooooken, yes it's broooooooken.
Brooooooken, yes it's, broooooken.
Brooooooooken. That is really fine yeah.
It is broken, air-conditioner broken, it is broken, air-conditioner broken, that is really fine yeah!
My sofas, man! All have an air-conditioner. My delightful broom, has an air-conditioner. An evil smirk…

“Oh, the sofas man, they ate the cats.”

WAAAAAHHH! The air-conditioner's brokeeeeeeeeeeeen!
WAAAAAHHH! Air-conditioner's brokeeeen, oh yeah.
WAAAAHHH WAAAHH WAAAHHH
Air-conditioner brohhhhoooohhhoooyeahyeahyeahyeahyeahyeahitisbroken!
Broken, broken, broken.
The speaker, has broken down also. The toaster, the toaster, it has no air-conditioner, air-conditioner, air-conditioner.
And do you know what I do?
I'll just open a window. Just open a window. Just open a window, yeah. That is really fine yeah.
'Cause the air-conditioner's brooooohohooooooken……




And they came to their senses. Out of the blue they had suddenly started dancing, and singing at the top of their, at least her, lungs. Now, the fat American cop that doesn't really exist was standing outside their cell.


“Again? And you brought a friend this time? You'll have to be there a bit longer, I'm afraid. Now, sir, if you'd just give me everything you've got in your pocket's… Yes, that little stick she had too… Thank you very much. You, sir, have a right to use the phone, but only once. Use it on the morning, if you'd please, I want to get home to my imaginary wife and kids.”


And so, Harry and Ginny were left alone.


“Who should we call?” Ginny suddenly said.


“How many do we know that's got a phone?”


“Uhm…. Hermione?”


“That's right. Only her. So, we'll call her.”




— The following evening —




“So, who could we call?” Hermione suddenly said….










The End.








A/N: Just to let you know, I wrote those so called “spoilers” before I even read HBP, so don't sue me for ruining the book for you.

And please, review!



Og já, það er enginn spoiler í þessu fyrir þá sem vilja vita það… Ekki neinn sem ég tók eftir allavega…


Og ef þið viljið lagið sem passar við lagið sem þau sungu, þá er það: http://www.rokk.is/mp3/r/rufiel_loftraestingin_er_bilud_ft._kiddi.mp3

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