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4TH PLACE WINNER OF 2 GALLEONS - ZYMURGY
Shouldn't Happen to a Dog (Parody!)
“Excuse me,” said Sirius, pushing his way though the muggles on the street, “Pardon me, would you PLEASE let me by, I have two murders to avenge, and one to commit, insanely grieving best friend coming through….”
The muggles gave him strange looks and parted to let him through. Peter suddenly saw him and looked a little sheepish, putting his hands into his pockets.
“Er…” said Peter, “I’m guessing you were just at Lilly and James’?”
“How could you tell?” snarled Black.
“Ok,” said Peter, getting out his, “How to Be a Succesfull Double Agent, and Live to Tell the Tale,” handbook, and thumbing through it, “Frame my enemy for my crime, and fake my own death by maiming… ooh. Yech. Oh, well, nothing for it I suppose.”
“You bloody barbecued traitor!” shrieked Sirius, getting out his wand, and conveniently not mentioning whom Peter had betrayed, “DIE!”
“Yes, yes, give me a second,” said Peter, “Can’t seem to find my knife… er…”
Sirius mentally went through a list of curses he could probably use and get away with, then narrowed it down to those he could use unnoticed in the crowd, and even factored in the curvature of the earth, and wind resistance. There was, it seemed, such a thing as being to good in Arithmancy.
“Lilly and James!” shrieked Peter, suddenly, “How could you, Sirius!? How COULD you!”
Sirius came out of his mental calculation of how many muggles he could obliviate with one arm hexed and a death eater chasing him, just in time to see a fountain of purple blood spurt from Peter’s hand, as his finger flopped deadly to the floor.
“Peter!” shouted Sirius, darting forward, “Are you ok?”
Friends, it seems, will always be a matter of instinctive concern to their friends, no matter how many coats they may have turned, and how many other friends they may have successfully killed.
Unfortunately, nobody every heard the “are you ok?” part, because Peter had just blown an enormous hole in the street, while effectively, and subtly adding a laughing hex to the mix.
“Hahahaha!” laughed Sirius, falling against the wall, clutching his stomach, looking about at the destruction and damage in horror, “Tee hee!”
The Aurors arrived bang on time, quickly and magically healing those still in time to be healed, questioning, obliviated, and detaining those necessary.
Two grabbed Sirius’ elbows, trying to figure out what was going on. Rita Skeeter and her assistant flashed picture after picture, as the quick quotes quill zoomed back and forth.
“What happened, man, are you all right?” asked the Auror to Sirius’ left, “Sirius?”
“Hahahaha!” giggled Sirius, sagging to the floor, “Stupid hahaha betrayed hahahaa Peter… hahaha… Lilly hahahha, James…. Tee hee! Ho ho… Rat, Peter, hahaha”
The Quick Quotes quill zoomed across the page: “Sirius Black, well known motorcycle riding three time winner of the most roughish grin award, has been hiding a second, darker side to himself. He laughs insanely as he surveys the damage he has wrought. “Stupid,” he laughs, mocking the dead muggles, bleeding before him, “betrayed Lilly and James,” he admits, boastingly, and adds, that poor Peter Pettigrew, who so valiently opposed him, and whom he had just murdered, was a “Rat.”
“I say,” asked her assistant, “That’s not exactly accurate, now, Rita. You’re putting an innocent man in…”
“Oh, don’t be so stupid,” snapped Rita, shutting her quill back into her handbag, “I can’t interview a rat.”
“Not even as a…”
Rita gave him the Skeeter Glare of Death, and the photographer shrugged, and went back to snapping pictures of the road, studiously avoiding the spot where Peter was still chasing his tale, trying to find a way out of the crowd without being squished.
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