Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

1. “But if you were planning a surprise party,” Harry asked, “would everyone think you were throwing a party for Voldemort? Like: what are you getting you-know-who for the you-know-what’?”
“Or what if you were talking to someone about their crush,” Harry asked, “would everyone think you wanted to go with Voldemort? Like: ‘You know who will definitely like that dress on you.’”
By lunakatrina (story: so sue me)



2. she was part veela, unicorn, siren, nymph, cat, goddess, 100% recycled plastic, fairy princess, hippogriff, tapeworm, pixie, and Guatemalan farm-raised catfish

By Poufsouffle (attack of the mary sues)

3. “Speaking of riding broomsticks, the whole game of Quidditch is sexually repressed!” Harry declared. “Throwing balls into big hoops, riding broomsticks, hitting balls with sticks, keeping balls out of the hoops — I like how there’s only two people fighting for virginity out there…”
Hermione didn’t deign a response.
“The Keepers are my heroes, personally,” Harry replied, “I have to respect that they don’t want people throwing balls into their hoops.”
Then Madam Hooch appeared and she briskly told them to find a broomstick to stand beside, and all of the students scrambled to follow her instruction, except for Harry.
“Wearing a dress just isn’t enough for you people, is it?” Harry demanded. “You also have to rape my mind with the strange innuendo of your repressed society.” (so sue me)

4.“Hello,” a quiet voice said next to Harry’s ear.

“Oh, great,” Harry groaned, “now I’m hearing voices.”

“It’s a talking hat, Harry,” Auntie Minerva replied.

“Oh, because that definitely makes me feel better!” Harry retorted. “That’s certainly normal!”

“There’s no need to worry,” the hat told Harry, “I’m just going to take a look in your mind and find out which House you belong in.”

“Oh, yes,” Harry said rolling his eyes, “that doesn’t sound bad at all; you’re just going to be reading my mind.”

“Hmm, I sense a great deal of self-preservation in you,” the hat whispered into Harry’s ear. “Certainly not becoming of a Gryffindor.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry demanded, “‘Not becoming of a Gryffindor’; it’s not like I’m in Gryffindor. And I bet you you’re some kind of weird hat-like ***** that gets off on ‘looking in’ eleven-year-old’s minds.”

“Harry, dear,” Auntie Minerva told him, kneeling down next to him, “you don’t have to talk to the hat out loud.”

“Yes, I do,” Harry replied. “I like having everyone know my business, especially when they don’t want to know it, because that way I’m even more annoying.”

“Certainly not a Gryffindor,” the hat chuckled.

“Good, because if you thought I was, I might have to get a second opinion,” Harry retorted.

“As for Hufflepuff, you are certainly loyal to those you open up to—”

“What?” Harry asked, “Are you psychoanalyzing me, now? I can guarantee you, you’ll find no Freudian impulses because I’m eleven.”

“You’re certainly bright, but lazy,” the hat continued. “Confident yet insecure, helpful, but only when you want to be — not when someone needs help or helping could impact you. Very curious, very curious indeed.”

“Glad you think so,” Harry commented, “I do hate being an easy puzzle to solve; no fun that way. I’m sure you have lots of fun reading poor, innocent children’s minds… I imagine you get particular fun out of me, considering what a difficult puzzle I am, right?”

“Fishing for compliments?” the hat chuckled in Harry’s ear.

“Now that’s just disturbing,” Harry declared, “Almost-flirting with an eleven year old… I ought to write to the School Board for that… and mention this vile three legged stool, I don’t believe it’s structurally sound … in fact, I find this whole Sorting archaic—”

“I believe that settles it,” the hat declared.

“Oh my God!” Harry exclaimed, pulling the hat away from his eyes and staring up in absolute offense. He had thought meeting Voldemrot was the last time he would ever be so offended, but no, this, this took the cake. “The damn hat interrupted me!” Harry stared up at Auntie Minerva. “Never in my life—”

“You are quite the little prima donna, aren’t you?” the hat asked.

“It called me a prima donna!” Harry informed Auntie Minerva in absolute outrage, “It interrupted me again, and called me a prima donna!”

“I know which House you belong in,” the hat sighed, “and once you know that, you never have to speak to me again…”

“I have half a mind,” Harry yelled, “and if it weren’t for the fact there’s another kid that’s been waiting to be Sorted longer than me, I would take you and I would burn you — you stupid, rotten, ***** hat!”

“That’s quite enough out of you, I think,” the hat declared, “I think you belong in…”

“RAVENCLAW!”
(so sue me)