*Legal disclaimer* - Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery; I do not own any of the characters in this story. It was written for humor, not for profit. If the copyright holders have any problems, please contact me. Now, on with the show!
HARRY POTTER AND THE BALL OF WONDER
Harry could hear the roar of the crowd as the heated Quidditch match continued. He squinted his eyes, desperately searching for the Golden Snitch. Slytherin was close behind, but Gryffindor was still winning at this point. If he could only spot the Snitch now, victory and the House Cup would be theirs.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and instinctively he dove after it. The Snitch would be his! He raced down, tipping his broom forward to get the speed he needed to catch up to it. Again, out of the corner of his eye he saw it duck under the stands and he swerved sharply to the left, entering the underside through a small gap between the drapes.
It was darker than Harry remembered under here. He slowed down some, listening for the tell-tale buzzing of the tiny gold wings. He supposed the darkness was due to the new banners Dumbledore had put up to ward off dementors from sneaking in through the Quidditch field. They sang and played happy music all the time; in fact, Harry was having a very hard time listening for the sound of the Snitch due to the poster just behind him singing "It's a Small World After All." The song was beginning to be burned into his brain. He knew he had to make it out soon or he might just go give himself to Voldemort, just to get the song to stop playing in his head.
Something whizzed by his cheek and Harry instinctively reached out for it. The Snitch seemed bigger somehow - maybe they had switched brands and Harry hadn't noticed. At any rate, he decided to contemplate the matter out in the open where, one) the game would be won, and two) the darn poster would be out of his hearing.
Harry flew out, joyous, into the sun to find Lee Jordan announcing a victory for Slytherin. The Gryffindors all flew around looking dejected and Oliver Wood looked more depressed than everyone. Harry was confused; he had the Snitch, how could the game have been won by Slytherin?
Oliver Wood spotted him and flew over. "Where were you, Harry? Draco got the Snitch and you were no where to be found!"
"How could he? I have it right....here?" Harry said, looking at what he had caught. It wasn't the Snitch, though. It was a small red and white ball with a button in the center. "But I thought....." Harry stammered.
"It's alright," Wood said, dejected and a little annoyed. "We've got our match against Hufflepuff. Perhaps they'll beat Slytherin for us."
Wood flew off, leaving Harry holding the strange ball. He was sad and a little angry at himself. The chances of Hufflepuff beating Slytherin were like the chances of Hufflepuff....well, doing anything worth mentioning. He sighed to himself and slowly turned towards the locker rooms. How had he caught this...thing...when he was looking for the Snitch? A tired Harry decided that he didn't care. Rather than facing his teammates dejected faces, Harry decided to head straight up to the common room. Perhaps his smelly Quidditch clothes would keep Hermione from approaching him for yet another attempt to join S.P.E.W.
"Harry, what is that thing?" Ron asked, after pushing Harry into the boy's bathroom and making him bathe.
"Ron, don't you have one of your own?" Harry asked, flabbergasted. Ron looked at him, perplexed. "Oh, you meant the ball." Harry blushed.
"What do you think it is?" said Ron, ignoring Harry.
Harry got out of the bathtub and towelled off, leaving Ron poking at the ball. "I'm not sure, mate. All I know is it cost us the House Cup," Harry said.
"Well, there's still a chance that Hufflepuff....er, nevermind. There's always next year!" Ron said cheerfully.
Harry got dressed and picked up the red and white ball. "Maybe we should ask Hermione?"
Ron looked doubtful. "She's been going on about S.P.E.W. so much lately she'd probably try to knit the bloomin' thing a cap. Perhaps we should handle this one on our own, mate."
"You're probably right, Ron. Let's get out of this restroom before some fan fic writer thinks we'd make a good pair."
Harry looked at Ron, and both of them shuddered simultaneously, imagining the horrible slash stories that could be written in explicit detail about something neither one of them would actually do.
Later on, Harry was lying awake in his bed, holding the mysterious ball in front of him. He and Ron had tried to look the bugger up, but were kicked out the library shortly after Ron started a farting contest. It had ended in a draw and Harry had wished, for once, that he'd eaten more beans.
The ball glinted in the moonlight coming through Harry's window. It looked so much like an eye; Harry was drawn to it. It seemed to possess such power...a circle of power.
Harry stroked it some, whispering to it, "You came to me. You're mine....my own....." He started to feel protective and paranoid. "My precious," he hissed, crouching over it.
"Shut up Harry!" Seamus said groggily from his bed in the corner.
"Sorry!" Harry answered, snapping out if it. What a weird aside, he thought to himself.
Harry slid back down into bed, (making sure his toes weren't covered in fur first) and contemplated the ball some more. He had been sure the thing was flying when he caught it, yet it hadn't moved at all since then. Maybe he'd killed it; perhaps it was a free thing, never meant to be caged, and it's captivity had broken it's heart and it had died of loneliness and despair.
Wait a minute, Harry thought. What about that stupid button?
Nah, too obvious, he concluded. Tired from trying to reason something out instead of pulling his wand on it and blasting it with a curse (Ron had thought it would be a bad idea in this case,) Harry fell asleep, dreaming of little Snitches with red and white stripes.
"Harry, wake up!" Ron said, shaking Harry.
"No more, Severus...I don't like you that way..." mumbled Harry.
Ron shook him some more. "Come on, mate, not that dream again."
Harry woke up in a cold sweat. "What a nightmare!"
"It's better than the one about you and Lucius in Azkaban."
"True," Harry agreed, settling down. "Or the one with McGonagall in a thong."
Both boys exchanged a look of revulsion. They shuddered, and Harry got up and got dressed for breakfast.
As they were walking down the stairs to the common room, Ron whispered urgently to Harry, "I think I might have come up with a solution to what that thing is."
Harry looked at Ron with interest.
"I think it might be an egg from whatever horrible and dangerous beast Hagrid is keeping this year. We should go ask him after lunch."
Harry looked uneasy, thinking of the ball nestled right there in his pocket. He resolved to pull his pants down quickly if he felt it squirming. After all, that pocket was too close to his..
"Winkie!" Hermione's voice drifted up the staircase. She was scolding the house elf for trying to find more hiding places for the knit caps.
Harry looked up, blushing a little, as Hermione met them at the base of the stairs. Ron tried to look inconspicuous, which was futile considering his hair was the color of a small forest fire.
"What have you two been doing? I haven't seen you in ages!"
"We're, uh," Ron stammered.
"We haven't been, er," Harry stuttered.
Hermione gave them a contemptuous look. "Honestly, you two are as easy to read as Hogwarts: A History Volume Four."
Ron and Harry shot a confused look between them. What was she talking about?
"What I mean to say is, what kind of trouble have you gotten into?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Ron and Harry breathed a collective sigh of relief. The last time Ron had been bold enough to ask her what she was talking about, they got a thirty minute lecture and a book report. Hermione was scarier than Voldemort sometimes.
"Well, I found this yesterday during the Quidditch game. I thought it was the Snitch," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief as he got the ball out of his all-too-close-to-other-things pocket.
"Oh, I was wondering why you didn't spot it before Malfoy, especially considering the House Cup was on the line and you are the main character who saves the day all the time. Oh well, maybe Huffle..."
"Don't say it," Ron groaned.
Hermione reconsidered. "I suppose you're right. So what is it?"
"I'm not sure," Harry said. "Ron won't let me use my wand on it."
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look between them; Harry always wanted to curse things. Hermione was really beginning to wonder about him. Perhaps it was some kind of guy thing, always wanting to use their wands, comparing lengths, waving them around with impunity...
"Well," Hermione said. "Why don't we take it outside after lunch? I have a ton of notes to take in History of Magic class and my fingers are sore from the knitting....hey, you don't think its got something to do with house elves, do you?"
Ron and Harry quickly made their way out of the Gryffindor common room without another word.
Later, Harry sulked out of McGonagall's office, sore at Ron and holding the mysterious ball. Ron had thought it would be funny to tie a string around the ball and wiggle it while Harry was in Potions. As a consequence, Harry had dropped his pants and run screaming out the door while Snape looked on, too shocked for a snappy retort. McGonagall had taken fifty points from Gryffindor, leaving them in last place, and given Harry detention with Snape for a week to make up for the interruption. Harry was not pleased to see Ron and Hermione meet him at the doors leading outside.
"Um, sorry about that mate," Ron said sheepishly.
Harry was still irritated. "Here," he said with a false smile, holding the ball out, "How about you put it in your pants pocket when it could be one of Hagrid's fire-breathing beasts?"
Ron gulped. "In my pants pocket? But it might hatch and it's so close to my...."
"Dobby!" Hermione said, running over to give the wayward house elf a hug. Dobby looked pleased and went on about his way, trying to keep the towering stack of knit hats balanced on his head. Hermione came back, watching them impatiently.
"Now you know how I felt," Harry said, taking the sphere back and holding it by his side.
"Sorry," Ron said, meekly.
The group headed out into the sunshine. A slight breeze drifted over them, carrying the tune of "You Are My Sunshine" from the Quidditch field. They made their way over to an empty patch of grass away from the school.
Hermione looked at the sphere very carefully. "What do you think it does?"
Harry, tired of being asked the same questions by everyone and irritated at getting detention with Snape, snapped back, "Do I look like I know?"
Hermione was too absorbed in inspecting it to even acknowledge Harry's remark. "Have you tried pressing the button?" she asked.
Ron and Harry looked at each other. "No," Ron answered. "I thought Harry'd already tried that."
"I didn't try it because," Harry responded, trying to come up with a good reason, "Because I wanted to ask you first Hermione, so you could have a fair chance to scold me for doing something reckless before I went ahead and did it anyways."
Hermione beamed. Ron sniggered, covering it up by pretending to cough. Harry grinned, then immediately looked serious as Hermione faced him. "Well, shall we?" she said.
Harry and Ron both looked downtrodden.
"I meant pressing the button, not lecturing!" Hermione snapped. Harry and Ron immediately perked up. Hermione handed the ball to Harry and backed away about twenty paces. Ron followed suit, putting his fingers in his ears.
"Thank you for your vote of confidence," Harry said, irritated. Ron didn't seem to notice Harry was speaking; he still had his fingers in his ears.
Harry looked at the red and white ball, wondering what in the world could it be. Was it a spy sent by Voldemort? Was he about to be sucked into a life or death battle? Would someone he knew and loved and was mentioned a few times die?
Figuring the appropriate tension had built up, Harry pushed the small button on the front. It clicked but nothing happened. Harry pushed it again, with the same result. He hammered the button down a couple of times in frustration, then flung the ball high into the air. "Stupid thing!" he yelled at it.
Ron gasped and Harry turned around to face the ball. It was floating in the air with little speed lines radiating from it. It was the oddest thing Harry had seen, even after coming into the magical world. Lightning radiated from the ball and a shrill voice yelled, "Piiiiiiikaachuuuuu!"
Suddenly a bright flash of light happened and a small yellow rat-looking thing was at Harry's feet.
"What the...?" Harry said.
"Pika?" the small rat told him.
"Hermione, what is this thing?" Harry yelled to her.
"I don't know, Harry. I've never read anything about rats hatching from eggs."
"Piika," the rat cooed, looking expectantly up at Harry.
"Did Scabbers ever do anything like this?" Harry asked Ron, who had finally taken his fingers out of his ears.
"Um, no. I tried to turn him yellow on the train....hey! Maybe this is the real Scabbers and that stupid Pettigrew was an imposter!"
Ron looked pleased with himself until Hermione pointed out that the rat in front of them looked nothing like Scabbers. Ron muttered under his breath something about spells and that it could be Scabbers.
"Pika!" the rat said, a note of impatience sounding in it's voice.
"What? What are you saying?" Harry asked it, a little bewildered. "Can't you speak English?"
"Pika pika!" the rat intoned, hopping from one foot to another.
"It's so cute!" Hermione said, kneeling down in front of it. She scratched it behind the ears as the rat 'pika'ed some more, obviously enjoying the attention.
"Hermione!" Ron said, incredulously. "You don't know where that thing's been! It could be dangerous!"
"Honestly, Ron, you sound like....um, don't answer that," Hermione said, ducking her head.
"What should we do with it?" Ron said, trying to look over Hermione's shoulder without getting too close.
Harry knelt down, hoping to make friends with it. The rat hopped over to where Harry knelt and pika'd him as Harry patted his head. "I'm not sure. Maybe it's a magical beast."
Suddenly, the rat sneezed and sparks flew everywhere. Harry felt like he'd put his finger in the light socket. He stared up at the sky from where he'd been knocked on his back, trying to get his bearings. A small yellow face with pink cheeks appeared over him. "Piiii-ka," it apologized.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, her face concerned as she helped Harry up. The rat bounced up to Harry shoulder and sat there, trying to smooth Harry's hair back down. Harry tried to shoo it away, but it just ended up perched on the other shoulder, grooming his other side.
"Yeah, I think so," Harry mumbled.
"It shot out lightning!" Ron said, clearly unable to grasp the concept of an electrical rat. For that matter, Harry wasn't sure whether he liked the idea or not. "Scabbers never did that!"
Hermione glared at Ron. "Well, obviously it's a magical creature. I'm going to the library to look up electrical rats that hatched from red and white eggs."
With a swish of her robes, she spun around and headed off to the library before either Ron or Harry could answer. Harry thought she was walking a little faster than normal. Maybe she was afraid.
"Wow. Um, you know, I think I left my wand in Snape's class," Ron said, eyeing the rat nervously and edging away.
"Ron!" Harry said, but just as he was about to continue, the rat began another sneeze.
"Ah - ah - ah..."
Harry looked at the rat, then back at Ron, who was now running towards the entrance to the school. Harry sighed and braced himself for another shock, but the rat quieted down and didn't sneeze after all.
Harry regarded it closely. "Stuck sneeze?" he asked it.
"Pika," it responded seriously.
Not sure of what else to do, Harry picked up the now empty ball and walked back up to the school, the yellow rat still sitting on his shoulder. It eyed the ball nervously.
"Don't like that thing, huh?"
"Pikachu!" it said with sudden violence.
"Okay, calm down, you're not going back in."
"Piiiikaaaaa," the rat said, sitting back down in relief as Harry put the ball in his pocket.
"What's your name?" Harry asked the rat, approaching the entrance of the school.
"Potter!" a voice sneered from the doors. Without turning his head, Harry knew it was Draco Malfoy. "What do you have there? A trouser rat?"
Malfoy laughed, and the ever-present duo of Crabbe and Goyle snickered behind him.
"Pikachu!" the rat scolded.
"And it talks! No wonder Potter had to run out of class with his pants down. He probably wet himself!" Draco said, laughing more.
"Piiika," the rat said, bracing himself. Harry considered warning Malfoy for a moment, then realized he was a 13 year old boy and didn't really care if Malfoy was seriously harmed.
"It looks like some sort of girly pet. Are you going queer on us, Potter?"
Harry wiped the spit from his cheek. It was times like these he wished he had a non labial-plosive for a name, something like Holmes or Sears. He was really tired of washing Malfoy's spit off his face after he said "Potter!"
The rat seemed really angry. A low growl started from its throat. "Piiiii-"
"Hey, what's going on?" Malfoy asked, fear creeping into his voice as static began to issue forth from the rat.
"PIKACHU!!!!" the rat said, the static building up into a mighty charge, shocking Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle and blowing them off the stairs and into the muddy flower bed.
Harry braced himself, but he seemed to remain untouched by the shock this time. He looked to the rat with amazement. "Wow, that was pretty good!"
The rat smiled and pika'd cheerily to itself.
"Maybe you're not so bad after all," Harry said. He walked into the school, rat still on his shoulder, leaving the Slytherin trio in the flowerbed. "I'll call you..."
"Pikachu!" the rat said happily.
"Alright. Pikachu. Let's go get some supper, shall we?"
The rat pika'd his assent as they walked down the hall, a fresh chorus of "If You're Happy and You Know It" drifting after them through the open window.