| A Day at Hogwarts |
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*A Day at Hogwarts*
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Timmy packed the final item into his suitcase. Tabby was sending him away to Hogwarts School of witchcraft in London. He was really excited about finally getting away. After all, Harry Potter in the book he read had totally enjoyed his days away from his evil family. And who would have thought that there really was a Hogwarts in London? Honestly! Timmy had thought it wasn’t real! Well a real school of witchcraft for a finally real boy was just what the doctor ordered.
“Ready stuffing for brains?” Tabby asked, used to her little man being a doll. She wasn’t exactly happy about sending him away, but with Julian and Reese hanging about trying to prove that Tabby suddenly had a boy that resembled her doll, she just had to get rid of him for a while.
“Timmy’s not stuff anymore! Timmy only wish this stupid third person stuff would stop.”
“Well, some things will never change,” Tabby rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hagrid is going to take you to London.”
“Hagrid?” Timmy looked confused but shrugged, grabbing his suitcase. “There’s really a Hagrid?”
“Of course, how can Hogwarts survive without a grounds keeper, honestly Timmy?”
Timmy shrugged. “Timmy should have known,” he followed his Princess outside. What he saw was nothing short of…well freaky. There on a giant floating Harley was Hank Bennett….er Hagrid.
“Umm Hank?”
“Who’s Hank,” the giant scratched his head and lifted Timmy by his shirt, placing him on the Harley.
“Er, Timmy means Hagrid.” He shrugged. Honestly what was he supposed to do if they weren’t playing along?
“Yea?”
“Weren’t you smaller once? With brown hair?”
“Not since they took my character in a new direction. He sprouted, what can I say? Now hold on,” he said stupidly. “This baby’s gonna fly.”
Timmy clung to the back of the giant’s coat. In no time, they were in London at the train station. Timmy looked around. Tabby had ordered his necessities on the Witchernet (ok, so it helped to be the former doll of a non-muggle that had happened to be in the first graduating class from Hogwarts) and they were in his suitcase. Hagrid threw the tiny thing onto the train. “All right, on the train with the others now. I’ll be seeing you at school.”
Timmy shrugged again and climbed aboard. He found the only open seat on the train and settled in. Ok, now in the story Harry was supposed to have snacks. Timmy looked around. So some things just didn’t carry over into the Passions world. That sucked.
“Excuse me little boy, are you sure you’re going to Hogwarts?” a deep voice asked. Timmy looked up and noticed the young boy looked liked Sam Bennett. Of course he knew who this brat was going to be. This had to be Draco Malfoy. Living out a book really sucked sometimes. Timmy tried to remember how the entire thing ended. Well at least the surprise aspect would be gone.
“I’m Malfoy, you must be Timmy Potter…”
“Umm, sure,” Timmy shrugged. Whatever. Timmy Potter…Timmy Lenox…Timmy the doll. Whatever this kid wanted to call him but late for dinner. After all, he was almost twice Timmy’s size!
“This is Crabbe and Goyle, my…umm…ladies,” he motioned to his henchwomen. Timmy looked confused. What the hell happened to the two butch boys that were supposed to beat the hell out of Harry? These women were gaga over Malfoy. Well therein lay the benefits of being a parallel universe based on fiction!
Crabbe smiled. She looked a lot like Grace Bennett on crack, not that Grace didn’t normally look like she was smoking something besides those tomato soup cakes. Her eyes twinkled and she snorted. “I’m Crabbe! This is my future husband…” she hugged Malfoy’s arm.
Timmy groaned as Goyle grabbed Malfoy tighter. “He’s mine! I’m Goyle,” she winked. “I have more money than God.”
“Nice,” Timmy nodded. “Excuse Timmy’s attitude, but you three were supposed to leave pages ago.” He pointed to the script in Malfoy’s pocket.
“Right,” Malfoy pulled out his script. Reading straight from the page he added, “Don’t you dare cross me, Potter…I’ll be sure to make you pay!”
“Timmy doubts it,” he sighed as they left. Boy this was exhausting. Stupid and still exhausting! Who was next? The woman that turned herself into a cat for fun?
“OH! Timmy! Here you are!” a squeaky voice gushed. “I’ve been reading up on you and I’m dying to know you better.” She smiled, though out of breath. Obviously she had missed her previous cue.
“Let Timmy guess…Hermione?”
“How’d you know?” the blond tilted her head. If she looked any more like Charity, she’d be her twin. Timmy looked her over. She was actually kind of cute. Perhaps this trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all. He smiled. “So like my premonitions have been terrible, but I’ve been reading up on them and it says I’m special! I can’t wait to learn magic and prove muggles are best.”
“Right…right…you’re just a normal person…” He rolled his eyes. Suddenly she seemed even stupider than he remember. Perhaps only dolls fell in love with people that had the IQ of well flies. How had he ever fallen in love with her? She was…an airhead!
A head peeked in. “Room for one more?”
“Sure Ron!” Charity patted the seat beside her and batted her eyes. You guessed it; Ron looked just like Miguel. He smiled and took the seat beside Harmione and started kissing her.
She pulled away and blushed. “Ron, this is…”
“Timmy Potter!” the boy gasped. “Wow this is super cool and look he has a lightning bolt scar!!”
“For who?” Timmy mumbled, touching his forehead where the scar in question lay. Wonderful, now he was a marked doll!
Hermione shrugged and looked out the window, spotting the castle of Hogwarts in the distance. “OH LOOK! HOGWARTS!” she cheered.
Timmy shook his head. This was giving him a headache or maybe it was the scar that was hurting. In either case, he was ready to get away from these two. How had Harry dealt with this crap?
“Got a chocolate frog?” Ron asked as they climbed off the train and followed the others to the boats. Timmy took one look at the lagoon and sighed. Of course he was in the first book…why should he get the carriages instead of the boats?
“No and Timmy doesn’t want one…”
“Well Timmy needs to learn the word I,” Malfoy laughed as he walked past him to a boat, tripping poor Crabbe and sending her face first into some mud. Goyle started laughing hysterically until she fell, pulling Malfoy with her, and all three sat in the claylike mud.
“Mmm, tastes like tomato soup cake,” Crabbe giggled gleefully.
Timmy groaned and hopped into the boat with Ron and Hermione. They all started rowing (well all but Timmy) and in no time they were across to the giant stone castle of Hogwarts. Timmy shivered. He was sure he was going to get lost in this place.
“I can’t wait to go inside…” Hermione hugged Ron and kissed his cheek.
“Neither can I…” The boy blushed.
Timmy rolled his eyes. This was pathetic. He watched them all go inside before a woman came out for him. “Mr. Potter…do you think you’re special?” she pushed her blond hair behind her ear.
Before she could say it, he replied. “No Professor McGonogall.” And ran past her. He hated cats and was sure that woman was about to transfigure herself into one. Besides, the longer he was here, the more he wanted his Tabby and there was no way to send a message to her when his owl was in his room. To think a castle didn’t have phones. Timmy sighed, this was going to be a long school year.
Timmy woke the next morning and prayed this was all a dream, but a moaning noise coming from the bathroom reminded him of something in book two. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. At the foot of his bed lay his cloak and he quickly dressed and followed the slowly loudening sound. “Oh great, just what Timmy needs. Moaning Myrtle.” He peeked into the bathroom and there was Theresa, tears rolling down her cheeks. Ok, so she was a ghost, but that pale white flesh was covered in mascara! “Theresa?” “Myrtle…but of course you wouldn’t care because no one does…and my true love doesn’t know I’m alive,” she cried. “Oy, Timmy needs an aspirin.” He closed his eyes. “That’s what my love said before he killed meeeee!” she wailed. “Oh get a life…” Poor choice of words for a ghost! Myrtle (or Theresa) sobbed so hard the bathroom flooded and Timmy floated right into Neville Longbottom, who was holding a glowing orb. “My mother always said I forgot something,” he sighed, scratching his head. Timmy looked up and noticed he was really a miniature Ethan Bennett. This plot was getting awfully fishy! “Oh no, Timmy knows where this is going,” he grumbled, watching Neville play with the ball. “What was it? And what good is a remembrall if you can’t remember what you forgot?” “Oy…” “Oh, hi Timmy,” Neville smiled. “Meet Myrtle?” “Yea, and Timmy thinks she wants to talk to you?” “Really? Cool,” he opened the door and was attacked by another flood. “OH NEVILLE! YOU CAME BACK!!!” “Timmy’s outta here,” he ran down the hall. “Where’s the fire, Mr. Potter?” Albus Dumbledor appeared. Timmy sighed. Who was Albus? None other than Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald…and ironically he was holding Professor McGonogall awfully close. Too close…and by her behind. “Umm…Timmy’s late for potions class?” Timmy took a guess. “Twenty points deducted from Gryffindor,” Dumbledor shook his head. “Such a pity.” “Oh but Alby baby,” the Professor pouted. “We’ll never win the cup that way,” she tapped his nose. “Besides, I earned a lifetime’s worth last night.” “Timmy is going to be sick,” the little doll rolled his eyes when McGonogall gave Dumbledor an Eskimo kiss. “Right right,” Albus blushed and smiled. “No points deducted…get to class Mr. Potter,” his eyes were focused on the woman and he leaned in for another kiss. Timmy quickly ran off. What was this? The Daytime TV version of the book??? He pushed open the door to the potions class and found Hermione and Ron chatting over their cauldron. Timmy took a seat in the back. Slytherine (Malfoy’s dorm) and Gryffindor (Timmy’s dorm) competed in everything and they had potions class together. Snape, the potions teacher, was Slytherine’s head teacher and McGonogall was Gryffindor’s. (You can just imagine how she earned bonus points ;) ). “Welcome to class,” Snape hiccupped, pouring something into his cauldron, mixing something else and taking a drink. Timmy could only imagine that Brandy didn’t taste really good with Vodka in a black kettle, but whatever Snape wanted. “Mr. Potter…” “Oh here we go again,” Timmy rolled his eyes and starting mixing things into the caldron. “What are you making?” “A Martimmy Timmy thinks.” “Does it have liquor?” “Sure, Timmy guesses,” Timmy shrugged, looking at the vodka bottle on his table. Who choose these supplies? Then Timmy realized who Snape was. “Great, Julian Crane. How could Timmy not have known?” “Let me try that?” he lifted the caldron and drank. “Wow, that’s great…100 points for Gryffindor.” Timmy shrugged. “Ok.” The bell rang and Timmy ran for his life, listening as Snape said something about living dolls running around and great drinks. Timmy shook his head. Good think J.K. Rowling’s characters were more child friendly. Timmy never made it to his next class, Broom lessons, because he ran into Valdemort (yes the bad guy) on the ground of the campus. Turns out Valdemort was Alistair Crane and only trying to get McGonogalll to stop seeing Dumbledor. Timmy rolled his eyes. The bad guy was nothing but hands and a back. He didn’t even have a head. Not that Timmy thought otherwise. After all, Alistair Crane didn’t have one either. When he got back to his dorm, Timmy Potter decided this school sucked and packed his bags. He was going back to Tabby. At least things made sense there… “Where are you going, Harry?” Hermione asked sadly. “You can’t leave!” “Home.” “Home?” The entire cast of characters appeared. “But why?” Timmy looked at them all. “BECAUSE YOU PEOPLE ARE FREAKS! GET A LIFE!” Timmy woke up in a cold sweat. Looking around he found himself still at Tabby’s safe and sound. He sighed and got out of bed, heading downstairs to see his Princess. He found her sitting in the living room unpacking his suitcase. He shook his head. “Nah, can’t be…” But she held it up and he was sure. It was his cape with the mark of Gryffindor. Timmy fainted. It hadn’t been a dream at all…. And that’s the story of Timmy’s first day as non-doll.
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