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So The Guardian is having a contest for people to write in with their versions of the death of Dumbledore, since he's expected to pop off when the new book comes out in a couple weeks. However, I can't enter, since I'm not British and I have the keyboard of a sailor. So here for your amusement is my take...

The Death of Albus Dumbledore



Smoke cleared and Harry Potter blinked wearily through the battle-strewn pub. For where else could a battle be fought but at a pub, when the British were involved? Many had expected the great show-down between Good and Evil would take place at Hogwarts, or possibly The Ministry of Magic, but no, it was at The Leaky Cauldron. Wizards mixed with lagers were more dangerous than Muggles on the Underground at rush hour.

Harry looked about for Rob, Hermione, and Neville, who had been present mostly for dramatic tension rather than for any real purpose. He supposed that Luna Lovegood would've been there too, as she had been his new purported love interest, but luckily Rowling had pussed out of that. Honestly, how was anyone supposed to bone someone named Lovegood outside of a porn flick? Honestly.

Fiendish mad-scientist laughter echoed through the broken building. Between the chill at his back and the pain in his forehead, as well as common sense, Harry knew it could only be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lord Voldemort.

"Ha," said HWMNBN with a triumphant sneer, "you're dead!"

"No, I'm not!" Dumbledore replied. He was missing all his limbs, but nonetheless his floppy pointy hat still remained jauntily on his singed head.

"Yes you are!" said Voldemort. "I totally Anakin'd you!"

"It's just a flesh wound!" said Albus.

"Dude," said Voldy, "I broke your wand, you have no thumbs left, let alone any limbs, and let's face it, the betting pools aren't looking that good either."

"Details, details."

"Oh come ON, what do I have to do to keep you down?!" Voldemort pulled off his Sith-like hood, threw it on the floor, and preceded to do an angry little dance on it. "I don't care if you're the only one I ever feared, you have to die now! Otherwise we won't have that really scary empty bit in the seventh book where the good guys have no leader but have to successfully join together anyhow! Whedon totally did it for HIS seventh act, and I REFUSE to be outdone by fucking Buffy the Vampire Slayer!"

Harry, unwisely, chose this point to comment. "You boinked Buffy?" He paused. "Well, it makes sense, she did have a thing for doing dead Brits, but, well, um, ew."

Voldemort glared at him. "I meant the show, you four-eyed ponce!"

"Hey, I'm a four-eyed ponce with a ridiculously lucrative film and product tie-in franchise," said Harry. "Plus the odds of my getting out of this series alive are way better than both of yours put together."

"How do you figure?" asked Dumbledore. "You have tragic hero written all over you!"

"True," said Harry, "but at the end of the day, we still have millions of brats hungry for Harry tie-ins. Plus at the rate the books keep coming out (whether or not there's an absence of editorial control involved), the kids who started reading the books when they first came out will be adults by the time the last one is released. It's a bit like the tobacco industry, y'know, you get them hooked young, then you keep the product coming. So I figure after a few years (but not enough for Rowling to get all Lucas-like on us, I hope--can you imagine an Extended Order of the Phoenix?!?!), a new series about an adult Harry can come out. And since you guys are both pretty ancient while the rest of us are growing up, by the time we ARE grown up you HAVE to pop off. Oh, and by the way, NO, we CAN'T bring back the Sorceror's Stone," he added as both wizards looked to disagree. "So hurry up and follow the fucking script already."

"Um. Right then. I guess," said a stunned Voldy. Continuing without much conviction, he said to Albus, "Um, lo, for though you are more powerful than me, you're still all Anakin'd. So, um, die already."

"Argh," said Dumbledore, who then expired.

"Yeah," said HWMNBN, "So, um, I'll be back. Yeah." And with that, he disapparated.

"Oh no!" cried Hermione, who had inexplicably returned along with Ron, Neville, Ginny, and other characters placed for dramatic tension to state the obvious. "Dumbledore is dead! Whatever will we do now?"

"Prance away like magnificent poofs?" suggested Harry.

"Ha," coughed a bloodied Ron, who didn't look so good for the self-same rise in dramatic tensions, "I knew it! Ever since Cuarazon directed film three, I knew it had to happen!"

"What did?" asked the ever-clueless Neville.

"Never mind," said Harry quickly. "Um, so does anyone know where Draco is?"

The end....for now...

Comments

( 2 comments — Add your .02 )
(Deleted comment)
caitri
Jul. 5th, 2005 03:02 am (UTC)
I'm evil, I know.

But honestly, who else could abuse Monty Python, Buffy, HP, Y Tu Mama Tambien, AND Star Wars ALL AT THE SAME TIME? ;)

Too bad I'm not British.
( 2 comments — Add your .02 )

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