Hogwarts: A Musical

Prologue: Aka, All Hell Breaks Loose

Harry Potter stared around at his companions. Row after row of people were shackled to their chairs, although he couldn't see those more than a few away from him, as the room was immersed in a deep and eerie gloom. Harry gave an involuntary shudder. "Ron? Hermione?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Harry, what is this place?" Ron replied somewhere to his right. "Something is seriously wrong."

Hermione also sounded rather strained, as she muttered, "This is all a dream... The last thing I remember is going to sleep... this has to be some twisted dream..."

"If it is, I'm having it too," came Neville's voice from behind her.

Harry would have began biting his nails nervously, had his hands not been belted down to the wrought-iron chair that reminded him horribly of something from a corny muggle horror B-movie.

Suddenly, a grating, bone-chilling laugh erupted from the ceiling, bellowing and echoing throughout the enormous dungeon-like cavern.

"MOOWAHAHAHAHA! MOOWAHAHAHA! MOOOWAHAHAHA!"

The adrenaline rush provided by this burst of fear in his very soul gave him the energy to wrench free of his bonds and whip out his wand. He had felt this dampness of the spirit before, and knew what to do. "Expecto patronum!" he cried.

A large, glittering neon yellow jellyfish erupted from the end of his wand, to flop and writhe about on the floor. He stared at it, in shock, just as he heard the once sinister voice erupt into what had to be a fit of...

Giggles.

"Ha! Did you see that, I'm good at evil laughs, huh? I've always wanted to do that, and he thought I was a dementor!" Once again, the voice that suddenly had the sound of a rather sugar-high teenage American girl broke into hysterical laughter.

Another voice, also teenage girl, but this one British, broke in sarcastically, "Liz, maybe that has something to do with the fact that you were acting demented."

"Oh, gee, thanks, I'm truly touched, Morag."

"Any time."

Slowly, still staring about in some advanced state of shock at the insanity radiating from the voices from nowhere, he edged his way towards Ron's chair."

Suddenly, the first voice's attention snapped back to Harry. "Nope, sorry, as exciting as it is meeting you all, I can't be allowing you to just charge around freeing people randomly." With a noise like a large tree branch snapping, Harry was back in his chair, his wand having vanished. "Thanks. Sorry about that, Harry."

"How... How do you know who I am? Where are you?" Harry called out
"Ah, zat is ze question, iz it not, my dear 'Arry?" replied the same voice, now in a terrible French accent. "You zee, 'Arry, I em all knowing. I am ze epitome of all evil. I am an genius on a rampage, zere iz no stopping me... MOOWAHAHAHA!"

"Liz, cut it out, you're obsessed."

"Fine. Spoil my fun. I'm only practicing my acting skills." Liz was definitely pouting now.

"Well, how about you at least quit acting up?" Morag sprang back at her.

Harry had the distinct impression that has he been able to see these two God-like manifestations, Liz would be sticking her tongue out. She then continued. "And basically, as to where we are, we're imprisoned in a horrible, mind-numbingly boring realm commonly known as reality. However, as fanfiction authors, on the rare occasion when we are blessed with the creativity to extend our reach into your world, we are all powerful. And I mean all powerful."

"She's right," Morag agreed. "And we have big plans for you guys."

"Hey, Morag, check this out! I can speak Spanish here! "Mi llama tiene hippos! Dos servecas, por favour! Me gusta zanahorias! Tu tienes correo!"

"Liz, do you have any idea what you just said?"

"Umm... My religious principals prevent me from answering that question."

Morag heaved a long-suffering sigh that gave Harry the impression she had been putting up with Liz for a very long time. Despite the fact that this Morag girl was one of his captors, he couldn't help but feel this was very brave.

"Hey, French too! Mon sage est dans l'arbe."

As Harry realised he was not dealing with anyone even on the verge of sanity, he mentally eliminated reasoning with his captors.

"German! Meine Lieblingsinstrument ist die rose Saxaphone!"

His fellow students remained in stunned silence.

"Turkish! Probleme yok!"

"Liz... don't make me hurt you..."

"Sweedish! Polis polis potatis gris!"

"Liz... Please..."

"Italian! Qual e sua compagnia d'assicurazione?"

"Liz... this your final warning..."

"Dutch! Ik ben luchtziek, mad ik een papieren zak? OW! That hurt!"

"I warned you."

Harry heard Hermione take a deep breath, no doubt summoning her courage, then called out tentatively, "What exactly are your... big plans for us?"

"Well, Morag says I'm not old enough to be allowed to get married yet, which stinks, but after a few glasses of caffeine I had another idea."

Morag took over. "Basically, we are going to stage a musical. Except without the dialogue. Unless we feel like it, this is more or less spontaneous. However, all of Hogwarts and the wizarding world will be our cast, and you'll all be singing. Get it?"

"What if we refuse?" Harry was surprised to realize that Neville had been the one to take this brave stand against their captors.

"Then I sic Liz on you. She watched too much Monty Python as a young girl, and as a result she's always wanted to try turning someone into a newt."

Too late for Harry to warn him against this rash course of action, Neville retorted, "Yeah right, don't be ridiculous! Muggles can't-"

CRACK.

A beam of light from the sky illuminated the bright orange and green spotted newt that was wriggling around on Neville's chair. Hermione let out a squeal of horror. Liz cracked up once more. "C'est impossible, aye? That was fun! Can I try-"

"No, Liz."

"Aww..."

Harry swallowed hard as the great lengths of torture this mad girl would go if he did not comply fully occurred to him. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, who brought about the downfall of the most powerful evil wizard of all time, was sunk. Trapped. Doomed. Slowly, he resigned himself to his fate. "All right," he called up. "What do we have to sing?"

"Now that's more like it! Hit it, everyone!"