The Question

The Question

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger, sat in the common room completing their Herbology homework. Hermione gulped as she stuck her nose further in Dangerous but Beautiful.

"You know," she started, "the Venus flytrap is quite fascinating really." Harry and Ronald groaned, but she paid them no mind. "Did you know that there's a magical plant similar to it? They grow in Australia, Africa, and Pakistan. I've been to Sydney, the capital of Australia before. I was a little girl and I can't remember much. However, there were these dingoes there that tried to eat my dad. Did you know that they're really a part of the cat family and not of the dog's? Like hyenas. I've never been to Africa but I want to go one to day to help with hunger and everything."

Harry looked at Ronald and both exchanged looks of horror. Hermione would most likely never shut up.

"Anyway," she said, while she stuffed her mouth again. "The magical plants, they look identical to the Venus flytrap, only they're huge. Loads bigger. They can even eat a grown man of Professor Snape's size whole. And -"

"Hermione," said Harry, as he looked up from his half done homework, slightly amused with her using Professor Snape as an example of magical Venus flytrap food, but annoyed as he scowled at Hermione's four bazillion inches, "tree pulp isn't what I would call a quality meal. Those books will kill you."

Hermione sent him an evil glare.

"Yeah," agreed Ron. He earned the stare of death from Hermione. "They're definitely not easy on your stomach. You know, tree pulp. So I suggest you take that out of your mouth."

Hermione scowled deeply at them, but pulled the wrinkled, dripping paper out her mouth. "Knowledge is good for you, Ron."

Ron looked disgustedly at the mess that used to be quality paper covered in drool. "Knowledge isn't that good."

Before Hermione could toss the drooling mess at him, Colin Creevey walked up to them. His eyes never lost their spark. He was revolting happy. It was repulsive. "Hey, Harry."

"Hi," mumbled Harry, while he focused all his energy on Mandrakes roots.

Ron and Hermione glared at Colin for not greeting them. Apparently, Colin didn't notice. "Whacha doin'?"

"Spending quality time with my walking-library and fat-headed-keeper friends."

Hermione and Ron beamed proudly. Only then, did Colin notice them.

"Oi, sorry. Hey there, I-got-an-O-in-every-class-so-you-can't-say-shit-to-me-bee-yatch and I'll-knock-you-on-your-arse-if-you-make-fun-of-my-fucking-bloody-brilliant-keeping-skills."

"Damn straight," chorused Ron and Hermione.

"So whatcha doin'?" asked Colin.

"I'm reading up on intelligent plant life, so obstinate only I can understand it," said Hermione, as she picked up the drool-covered paper and stuffed it back into her mouth. She chewed audibly.

Colin, Harry, and Ron winced and cringed in mental pain.

"Anyway," said Ron, while he looked askance at Hermione. "I'm sitting here looking bloody good with my beautiful red hair, and my strapping taut round buttocks. Did you know we beat those arsed faced, poncey Slytherins last week? Malfoy had a haemorrhoid." Ron laughed.

Hermione looked at Ron as if he was an E on a Potions test. "Honestly, don't use phrases if you're too thick to say them properly. You mean hernia."

Colin and Harry winced. Ron looked at them befuddled. Nice word. Befuddled.

"What?" said Ron, as he glared at them, daring them to agree with Hermione. "They sound the same. What's the difference? And what the fuck is a hernia?"

"Well, it's when-"

"Never mind book eater!" snapped Ron.

"You asked!"

"Wish I never had!"

Ron turned away her as he said, "Well what's a haemorrhoid?"

Harry, Colin, and shockingly, Hermione remained silent. They all looked uncomfortable.

Ron stood up in fury. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS A HAEMORRHIOD?"

Everyone around the common room went deathly still, pale, and looked at Ron in undisguised horror.

"Oi!" yelled Fred, standing up. "It's when you shit so hard -"

George stood too. "- so hard you're sweating -"

"- that your boulder size shit ball -"

"- that also feels like a boulder -"

"- passes through your arse hole -"

"- which takes forever and you're in bloody labour trying to breathe -"

"- and irritates veins in you're arse's entrance hole -"

"- that burns like someone just bonked you without bloody lube -"

"- that leaves the veins swollen -"

"- ice wouldn't help the bastards your boulder sized shit ball made -"

"- that it constantly itches -"

"- it's like you have chicken pox in your arse -"

"- when you move, sleep, eat -"

"- it hurts and itches like hell when you shit. You probably bleed too -"

"- and you can't scratch it -"

"- because you'll end up with a shitty finger and a bloody, burning, and itchy arse hole -"

"- so you'll need to get some special cream -"

"- that you can't hide from the person you're buying it from. So they snicker at you because you have a bloody, itchy, burning arse hole -"

"- to rub in the hole so it'll get better or else -"

"- an infection will start and your arse will make your body discompose from the inside out."

"That's why eating green veggies makes your shit easier to pass through your arse hole," said Fred

"Yep, I shit everyday, cause I eat my greens and don't end up with an itchy, bloody, burning arse hole," continued George.

It was safe to say everyone in the common room hated Ron's guts for traumatising them. They sent him threatening glares, and Ron's traumatised face couldn't even transform into terror because he wished fervently that he hadn't asked that question.

Everyone in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table that night, however, ate mountains and mountains of green vegetables. The Weasley twins looked at them all approvingly, while they ate plenty of vegetables themselves. All the while they said things like, "Eat up, there's a good sport. No itchy, bleeding, burning arse for you." or "Feels good not to have to worry about birthing a hard one tonight, doesn't it?"

Everyone just nodded vigorously, all the while feeling terribly stripped of the comfort of their stable, seemingly unbreakable, mental walls. None of them, especially Ron, couldn't get the words: bloody, bleeding, itchy, shit, arse, burning, shit, shit, shit, and lube out of their brains.

Ron was magically bound to large piece of oak and placed as a sacrifice in front of the Whomping Willow the next day. Ron could swear he saw the Willow smile in revenge. No one ever blames the bloody twins, thought Ron morosely.