Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
Potter47 Four
The Half Giant Blood Prince Thingy

If you are confuzzled after reading the title of this fourth chapter of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, it is for a very good reason. You see, shortly after my escapade in Greenland, I decided that every chapter of this so called tail (see chapter three) should have a title that somehow alluded to who the HBP would be in said chapter.

Sadly, the following chronicle is so unbelievable that I couldn't even properly title it. "Thingy," you see, is not a word, though it most definitely should be.

Nevertheless, I do hope you enjoy this completely and totally impossible tale, which is actually spelt like that, but was previously used as a joke, and immediately take a break from it if your head hurts too much. This has been a warning.

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley--for flavour--made their way down to Hagrid's Hut. On second thought, the small, wooden shack that Hagrid lived at may better be termed a 'hut', instead of a 'Hut'. It is, after all, not a pizzeria.

"Hello, Hagrid," said Hermione when their friend opened the door to let them in.

Hagrid said nothing. He merely closed the door once the three of them entered.

"Hey!" exclaimed Ginny from outside the door. "You shut me out!"

Hagrid said nothing. He merely opened the door again and let the youngest Weasley into his...abode. Or perhaps even 'Abode,' as there is no copyright in the history of the copyrighting business that featured the word. The makers of the Acrobat software came close, but their writing was intelligible, and the 'd' and 'b' were accidentally switched.

"What's wrong, Hagrid?" said Harry, who certainly knew about being silent for great periods of time, but always got out of it before school started, because, you know, the plot had to start. Grieving could peek into the story occasionally, but for the most part, Sirius' death was forgotten once the story line began. If there was a story line, that is.

Hagrid said nothing. He merely reached onto the table and picked up a bit of parchment that had been sitting there for unknown reasons that may or may not have had to do with a purple polka-dotted table cloth, Greenland, or other completely random things that tend to creep into these tales.

He handed it to Ron, who had until now been lost in the lack of epic discussion that had been going on among the other inhabitants of Pizza--er, Hagrid's Hut.

Ron looked down on the intelligible scrawl, and then back at his friend. "Hagrid," he said, "this is an intelligible scrawl. How are we suppose to--well--tellige it?"

Hagrid said nothing. He merely shrugged.

"Oh, let me see it," said Hermione impatiently. Ron handed it to her, and she instantly knew that answer, without even having to consult a reference book.

"This isn't an intelligible scrawl. It's an untidy scrawl. You just had it upside down."

"Oh."

"It says," said Hermione, and she read it aloud:

I'm not allowed to talk. This is a fan fiction. No fanfiction author can get my accent right. ...so I can't talk. Whoever's writing this isn't about to embarrass him- or herself by trying. So. I can't talk. Fancy a cuppa?

"That's odd," said Ginny. "How can we know that the writing went to the next line after each sentence? She read it out loud."

"I dunno," said Harry. "But let's see if we can get an important plot point out of him anyway!"

"Hurrah!" said Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

"Hagrid," said Harry, leaning in close to him. "What is going to be the main theme of this book--I mean--year?"

Hagrid snatched the parchment back from Hermione and scribbled on it.

It read:

I can't tell you that. It's strictly between Grawp, Professor Dumbledore, and myself. I shouldn't have said that. Hang on. I didn't. I wrote it down. So why don't I cross it out? I dunno. Probably a plot point or something.

"Grawp, Professor Dumbledore and you?" said Ginny, giving no indication that she didn't know who the hell "Grawp" was.

Hagrid nodded.

"Well, we've got to find out what that is!" said Harry.

"Hurrah!" said Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

For hours, the trio--er, quartet--sat, trying to get the secret out of their biggest friend. Actually, that's not true. They actually got it out of him within a couple minutes.

"Okay, fine,"

the paper said.

"I give up. You all are pressuring me to much. And yes, Hermione, I know I missed an 'o' in 'too' up there. It was to preserve realism, as I'm not supposed to be the best speller. And I am the Half Blood Prince."

"Gasp!" gasped Hermione. "I've read about the Half Blood Prince!"

"Of course you have," said Ron. "But what's the Half-Blood Prince?"

"Well, obviously," said Hermione, "it's a who, not a what. And it's Half Blood Prince, not Half-Blood Prince. There's no hyphen. Didn't you see the announcement on JKR's website?"

The three other visitors stared at her, clearly thinking her mad--a word which here means "round the bend"--which here means "barmy" not turning around a corner--not "incensed"--which here means "really really mad," not "filled with a delightful and sometimes nauseating smell. In fact, while escaping the Greenlandish Castle, I nearly went mad while rounding a bend into a room that was incensed. But that has no relevance. To this tale, at least.

"Er, no, Hermione..." said Harry. "We haven't seen Jaykayer's website."

"What's a web sight?" asked Ron and Ginny simultaneously.

"That doesn't matter," said Hermione impatiently. "The Half Blood Prince is a legend, Hagrid! How do you know that it's you?"

Hagrid wrote for a long time, before handing the parchment back to Hermione. She read it aloud.

"Dumbledore told me. It's got something to do with...what was it? Oh, right. Apparently, my Mum--Fridwulfa, you know--apparently she was some sort of royalty. That makes both me and Grawp princes. But, as I'm the oldest, I'm the Half Blood Prince. Even though we're both half bloods, and the only difference is the capitalization. Least that's how the fans explain it in the forums. Oh, and it may well be Half-Blood Prince, with the hyphen. JKR has spelt it both ways herself. Bit indecisive, in my opinion."

"Ah," said Hermione. "It all makes perfect sense."

"That made no sense whatsoever!" said Ron, Ginny, and Harry. They paused for a moment, before grinning and shouting, "Hurrah!"

"It does so," said Hermione scathingly. "Just because you have the intelligence quotient of a teaspoon doesn't mean--"

"Again with the teaspoon!" exclaimed Ron. "What is your fascination with teaspoons? I just don't understand girls."

"Does anyone?" said Harry.

Hagrid shrugged, agreeing.

"Do I have to go back to the emotional range insult?" threatened Hermione threateningly. "That doesn't matter right now. We need to find out what this secret has to do with the main plot of this book--um--year."

"Well," said Ginny, "we can eliminate any and all scenarios that have anything to do with the Pillar of Storgé."

"Who would even consider writing a book about that fictional thing?" asked Ron.

"Would anyone?" said Harry.

Hagrid shrugged, agreeing.

"Well, it's getting late," said Ginny. "We can sleep on this puzzling enigma, and maybe we'll think of something."

They gathered their things to leave, despite not having anything to gather, as they came to Hagrid's empty-handed, but just as they were about to leave, Hagrid held up another piece of parchment urgently.

"This is it," said Harry with bated breath. "It must be. This'll tell us what the secret has to do with the main plot of the...year."

Hermione quickly snatched the parchment from Hagrid and looked down at it.

"Or not," she said. "It says,

"A "puzzling enigma" is repetitive, Ginny. If something is puzzling, it is an enigma. If something is an enigma, it is puzzling. Russia, you know, is a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. I made that up. Yup. I really did. See you!"

"I could have sworn..." said Hermione. "I could have sworn Churchill said that. But I guess he stole it from Hagrid, despite the illogical dates. Well, dates don't matter in this story anyway. Remember the twelve week August we just had?"

And so they left.

/*
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You may have noticed the new, state-of-the-art, absolutely beautiful Christmas Tree divider! Not so beautiful? Yes, it is supposed to look like a Christmas Tree. Well, it doesn't matter. This is to distract you from the completely unlikely and improbable events that occur in this next scene. Oh well. Apparently you've moved on.

When Harriet and Ronalda woke up the next morning, they realised just how indecisive JKR could be.

"Have you figured it out yet, Hermio?" Harriet asked as she and Ronalda made their way down to the common room in the morning. "The whole Half Blood Princess thing, that is?"

"Oh, pull yourselves together, you idiots!" Hermione snapped at them. "You know perfectly well that the Half Blood Princess was last chapter. So take off those silly dresses and let's get to work!"

Reluctantly, Harry and Ron admitted that Hermione was right and the Half Blood Princess was indeed the previous chapter. But they had heard--from boggart!Snape himself, no less--that dresses could be fun.

Returning to the common room, the two boys sat down in the comfy chairs next to the fire, and waited for Hermione to either a.) tell them of her solution to all the year's troubles, or b.) run off to the library and never tell them a thing.

"Thank goodness," said Hermione. "If you two had taken another minute I would have run off to the library and never told you a thing!"

"What is there to tell?" asked Ginny, walking over to the group.

Harry looked up at her, and he could have sworn he saw her in a whole new light. However, he cannot have. The term "A Whole New Light" has been copyrighted by Ron/Hermione shippers and can never, ever be used to describe any other person and/or Hippogriff ever again.

Harry looked up at her and saw her in an unbroken innovative luminosity.

"Ginny," he said, awe-struck by her sudden glowing-ness (the aforementioned 'luminosity'). "I uh...um...uh--" He stopped suddenly. "I should say 'er' shouldn't I? And 'erm?'" Ginny nodded, and Ron and Hermione pleasantly ignored them, delightfully arguing about Snape again. "Okay. I er...um...er...do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?" he asked.

"I'd love to, Harry," Ginny said with a smile. "In fact, I--"

"Hold it!" said Ron, cutting off his argument with Hermione over whether the Potions Master really did take two backwards steps on the way out of the classroom the previous Tuesday. "You can't take her to the Yule Ball!"

"Why not?" said Hermione. "After all, your approval of the two was clearly shown last year, on the train. Remember the 'odd look'?"

"But they can't!" said Ron, and it looked as though he was suppressing a grin. "Because it's a Christmas Ball, not a Yule Ball! I'm quite sure there's no Triwizard Tournament this year!"

Hermione, Harry, and Ginny groaned. Ron laughed at his own joke--

"Excuse me," said Professor Dumbledore sticking his head into the portrait hole, "I have just announced to the teachers in the staff room that there is going to be a Triwizard Tournament this year."

"What?" said Hermione. "But there can't be--"

"Alas," said Dumbledore, "Young Ronald has just made a joke about it. So it must come true. Oh, and Harry?"

"Yes, professor?"

"You left your right shoe in the kitchens. I am not going to ask how it got there. Dobby...found it." This was not entirely true; Dobby had actually stolen the shoe himself and stowed it away under a pile of mashed potatoes. Dumbledore handed the spuddy-shoe to Harry, who accepted it.

"Thank you sir," said Harry, nodding gratefully.

"The first task is about to begin," said Dumbledore gravely. His face looked happier, however, as he said that "It is going to be very, very bloody. It is lucky we have very brave champions this time." He grinned maniacally, and left the portrait hole. Harry could faintly hear him singing something about a "Brave Sir Robin," or something to that effect.

"Well, we'd better hurry and get to the first task," said Ron logically. "We don't want to miss any blood."

The three students--"Four!" protested Ginny--made their way down to the grounds, despite Dumbledore not saying where the task was to take place. Hermione looked very defeated--as if she had gotten only an "E" in Potions--because of the sheer illogicalness of the recent happenings.

"Welcome to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!" Dumbledore's voice rang across the Quidditch stadium, where the event was taking place. "This year we are doing things a bit differently. Firstly, as I'm sure you'll notice, there are no delegates from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang here. This is because we've decided that instead of 'tri' meaning 'three', 'tri' is going to mean 'try', with a 'y'.

"This means, of course, that this is a tournament for those that try to be wizards! Triwizard!"

A loud cheer roared through the crowd.

"In fact, there aren't even three champions this year, but two!"

"Roar! Cheer!" said the crowd.

And so, the first task of the Try-Wizard Tournament began.

"Our first champion," said Dumbledore, "is none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!"

"Roar!" went the crowd.

"Roar!" went Hagrid, giving his best Rupert Boneham impression.

"So that's what Hagrid was talking about!" said Hermione excitedly.

"Roar!" said Harry, Ron, and Ginny, ignoring Hermione in their impression of Hagrid and/or Rupert Boneham.

"Yes, yes, bravo Hagrid, bravo Hagrid!" said Dumbledore proudly. He chuckled. "You should try out for a reality show! But there are, as I mentioned, two champions tonight. The second one is none other than Rubeus Hagrid--'s half brother! Grawp!"

"Roar!" went the crowd, giving no indication that they didn't know who the hell "Grawp" was.

"Huh?" went Grawp, looking off at a tree in the distance longingly. He then turned to the crowd and saw a familiar face. "Hermy!"

"You know," said Ron, "I'm surprised no one has ever paired you up with Grawp before. After all, the last person to get your name wrong was--"

"Professor Binns?" interjected Hermione with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes," said Ron, nodding. "And no one's paired you up with him, either."

"Witches and gentlewizards, I'd like to tell you all a bit about the first task. The two champions must try to levitate that boulder. Whoever gets the boulder higher into the air, wins. Whoever has won the most at the end of the Tournament--after all three tasks--will win a year's subscription to Kwikspell. Also, for unknown reasons, our original third champion, Mr Filch, has refused to compete."

"Probably because he already has a subscription," said Harry.

The task began, and Hagrid came out to an early lead. He had taken out his pink umbrella and shouted "Wingardium Leviosa!"--the first words he had uttered since the beginning of the tale. The boulder rose nearly a foot off the ground.

Grawp, however, did not shout "Wingardium Leviosa!" or anything else. He simply marched over to the boulder and threw it up in the air. It went much higher than Hagrid's, and he won the task.

"You were great, Hagrid!" said Hermione after the task. However, the half giant simply sobbed. He sobbed, and then he sobbed some more.

"What's wrong, Hagrid?" asked Ginny.

"I'm supposed to be Half Blood Prince!" he shouted in perfect grammar, so that the author does not have to humiliate himself. "But Grawp defeated me! And now I'm nothing but a--but a--nothing but a Half Giant Blood Prince Thingy!"

"Come now, Hagrid," said Hermione. "You know 'thingy' is not a word."

"And there's always the rest of the tasks, you know," said Harry comfortingly.

"Yeah," said Ron. "It's not as though Dumbledore's about to come and say they've decided to cancel the other tasks, and that Grawp is the winner of the whole tournament, after all."

All four of the other people stared at him. He swallowed hesitantly.

"What?"

"Excuse me," said Dumbledore. "I'd like to say that we've decided to cancel the other tasks, and that Grawp is the winner of the whole tournament. That is all."

"Sob!" sobbed Hagrid.

"You know, Ron, you are about as considerate as a teaspoon," said Hermione scathingly.

"Again with the teaspoon!"

~ Finis ~

Author's Note:

I would love to post a long, humorous, and unbelievable author's note, but unfortunately cannot at the moment. You see, the internet connection in the place I am currently hiding from You-Know-Who (not Voldemort, of course) is less than...satisfactory.

Speaking of factories, I'm sure reading 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' might be a good preparation for the next H.B.P.P. That's all I can say.

Off you get.

To the library!