by Arete Vesilagor

disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters. Note: this is what happens when the Rogues go to Hogwarts. I wrote it after I saw a picture from the HP movie in a magazine and it had the little word bubbles and said “fill in the bubbles!”. Needless to say, I had too much fun and turned it into a story. Uh... enjoy!

Potter and Ron tripped into McGonnagal’s “classroom” to “learn” things that would “help” them in their “life”. They were late. Mostly because they were soooo stupid they had passed the door labeled “McGonnagal” ten times before a strangely dressed guy had pointed out to them, rather dryly, that the door was labeled and how the hell could they have missed that.

(scene:

Ron: We have to get to cla-cla-...

Harry: Clas-class..uh. That thing with McGonnagal.

Ron: Where is the cla-cla... that thing with her?

~They run past door labeled “McGonnagal”~

Harry” It would help if they put in signs.

Ron: I can’t re-re-rea... That thing that only intelligent people do.

Harry: I can read... sorta. not really.

Ron: Where is the classroom marked “MgGonnagal”?

~ They have run by the right class about ten times.~

Harry: McGonnagal... McGonnagal...

Dude dressed in an orange flightsuit: Are you two looking for McGonnagal’s class?

Ron: Yes- did I use that word right?

Harry: I think

Dude: You’ve passed it about ten times. How the hell could you not notice it?

Ron: (Proudly) I’m stupid!

Harry: Oh, no. We’re late.

End of flashback/scene/thing)

They walked as quietly in the room as they could. Of course, they were extremely noisy because they are sooo stupid. And dumb. And brainless. And... Potter-like.

The teacher stared at the two idiots as they both tripped over the very long robes they had purchased because they were too stupid to use the size chart.

“You are late, you dumb child.”

“Uh...” Ron said.

“Wait. Don’t use big words.” Harry pleaded.

“Harry. You are stupid.”

“I know-“

”I’m stupid!” Ron interrupted proudly as if he’d just won “Jeopardy” or something. (Yeah, like that would ever happen... He’d probably get struck by lightning while kissing a lama as he’s being swept down a raging river of death before that happened)

“-and my name is Hannah.”

“Harry.”

“Or maybe it’s Harold”

“Harry.”

“Oh, I know! It’s Harvey!”

“Harry...”

“Or Horatio.”

“Shut up.”

“Ooh. It’s Helen!”

They continued arguing as the other zombie-like “students” sat with glassy eyes and mouths hanging open. Some even had drool slowly dripping down their chins. (That basically describes all the students at Hogwarts... plus all the teachers... ) Ron stood saying “uh” to himself over and over again.

Four guys walked in holding blasters and dressed in orange flightsuits. One was cute and was laughing. The other looked like his brand new fighter had just crashed, which was a pretty likely thing, but he always looked like that. But, then, he always crashed his fighter... anyway... He had a dour expression. The only blond in the group was laughing along with the cute one. The other guy was obviously the commander; however, from the looks of the group, they seemed more like a bunch of friends. It also seemed he was having a hard time getting them to act in a mature fashion. (that’s our Janson. Making life hard for Wedge.)

McWhatever looked horrified. “How dare you come in here! And with those things!”

Wedge (the commander) held up his blaster, “ What? This? It’s called a blaster. Say it blas-ter.”

“Bless-tor.” Ron tried.

“No. Blas-ter.”

Ron tried again. “Blue store.”

Wedge threw his hands up. “He’s hopeless.”

Janson grinned.

“What?” Wedge asked.

“Nothing. You don’t want to know.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“Good choice.”

“That’s why I’m your leader.”

“Wait. What about that how Adumar thing? That did not turn out too great.”

“It did in the end.” Wedge protested.

“Barely.”

Tycho interrupted. “Hey, guys. We have a job to do.”

Hobbie nodded. “We better do it before they mass and attack.”

Janson shook his head. “Hobbie. That isn’t being pessimistic. That’s being delusional.”

“Hey!”

McWhatever frowned. “Why are you here?”

“We felt like blowing stuff up.”

“We were bored.”

“I don’t like it here.”

Wedge shook his head. “Kids...” he breathed.

“Excuse me, young man. I am your elder.”

Wedge looked at Janson. “Not your mental age.”

“How dare you talk to me like that. I remember back in the good old days-“

Tycho snorted.

“You too, young varmint.”

“You three are really weird.” Hobbie said.

Wedge backed away and stood next to Hobbie. “Don’t include me with those two.”

Janson shrugged. “I guess my charming nature has rubbed off on Tycho. That’s why he acts like me.”

“I do not!”

Janson pointed at Hobbie. “He’s the one who said it.”

McWhatever glared at the pilots. “You were going to tell us why you’re here.”

“Oh, yeah. Um. We are here to blow you all up.”

“Goodness!” She took out a stick. An expertly aimed shot from Janson turned it to a pile of ashes.

“Yeah. And Hobbie is not very happy with you. Seems like a kid on a broomstick flew into his fighter and caused it to crash.”

“Yeah,” Hobbie said sadly. “And it just got a new paint job.” he brightened (which means he went from looking like someone was making him eat a bucket of worms at gunpoint to looking like someone was making him eat a cup of worms at gunpoint)”But now I can paint a silhouette of a kid on a broomstick on my new fighter.”

“Paint?” Ron asked, confused (more than usual).

“Open fire, men.”

“Yes oh great commander.”

“And savior of the universe,” Wedge added to Janson’s response.

“And One with the big Ego.”

“Ha ha. Not funny, Tycho.”

Okay...............kinda weird, but...it’s Janson...what more is there to say... so... finis... or...the end....whatever...

Red Flights' Ugly Mugs... (a protest from Wes: Hey!) Wes TychoHobbie Wedge

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