The Harmonians Strike Back

A Half Blood Prince Parody

By: The Fitchburg Finch

With Special Guest Appearances by: AJ Potter, Amy Noelle, Bingblot, Cheering Charm, Goldy, Frostbite Panda, Kaze, Little Creek, Lynney, Madscientist, Mary Caroline, Musca, PotterMama, the Oxford Comma, and Vicarious Leigh, as themselves.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Authors represented in this story. I do not own the characters represented in this story. I do not own the Oxford Commas represented in this story.

I do, however, own a garden-variety plant mister….

Beware… Beware!!!

Part III

Ron got up slowly and rubbed his forehead. “That wasn’t very nice!” he shouted angrily as he took a slow step towards the group. “Hey, wait a minute…” he said, as he began to look around. He stared pointedly at one of the closer members of the group and exclaimed, “I know you!”

“You do?” she asked in alarm.

“He does?” Harry and Hermione cried out in unison.

“Yeah!” Ron replied with some excitement, apparently forgetting all about his collision course with the solid wall just moments ago. He pointed at the woman before him and exclaimed, “You’re Bingblot! I’ve been hoping to meet you! I love your work!”

“T-thanks,” Bingblot replied, wide eyed, as Harry and Hermione continued to stare in shock.

“Did you get my reviews?” he asked sincerely. “I hope I wasn’t too direct, but I thought I could give you some feedback on, you know, me…seeing as how you’re writing about me and all.” He shuffled his feet and continued on nervously, “Are you thinking of doing anything new soon? How about a one-shot concerning yours truly? I could give you some tips, of course, and I – “

“HOLD IT!” Hermione shouted, pushing Harry away and moving towards Ron. “You mean to say you know these crazy people?”

Ron blinked, looking slightly offended. “Well, of course I do, Hermione. Don’t you? And they’re hardly crazy,” he added, looking apologetically at Bingblot. “Why Bingblot here’s got one of the best stories on the web. And, oh! You’re Vicarious Leigh, aren’t you?” He ran over to one of the other Authors and began shaking her hand vigorously. “You wrote Triumvirate of Resolve. I tell you, that story changed my life. Talk about a good read! I was rather inspired after that one.”

And one-by-one Ron Weasley proceeded to move around the room, introducing himself to the various Authors and praising their collective works, as Harry and Hermione could only stand aside and watch the bizarre transaction unfold.

“Oh, and you’re Goldy! Absolutely love you…and Cheering Charm! I can’t believe it! I’m so honored…Why, is that PotterMama? Boy, you sure write a good POV!”

All around them the men and women, who had looked so stern and resolved moments ago, began to blush and sigh as Ron continued to garnish them with praise.

“-I never got over the scene with the pensieve…oh, and Frostbite Panda! Lovely one-shots, darling. Just lovely!”

“Man,” Mary Caroline whispered to Vicarious Leigh as Ron continued on with his lavish praise, “he sure knows how to make a girl feel good. Maybe he really has turned into a ladies’ man?”

Vicarious Leigh stifled a chuckle. “Don’t encourage him.”

“And you’re Madscientist! Great sense of humor you’ve got.” He shook Madscientist’s hand and moved on to the next person in line. As he reached her, however, he stopped short and stared at her blankly for a few moments.

“You…I don’t know who you are…” he said hesitantly, staring at the woman with odd, rust-colored hair before him. “You must not be very good. I’d have recognized you if you were.”

“Not…very…good?” Finchy replied in a strained voice, her right eye twitching visibly. “Not very good? I’ll show you not very good…” As her eye continued to twitch, she pulled out a small notepad and a large feather quill and began to scribble furiously. As she did so, a large red brick began to materialize over Ron Weasley’s head. Slowly, the edges of the brick became clearer, more visible, and the surface became more and more textured. The color brightened, a deep red, and it began to solidify even more-

“OK, enough of that,” said Cheering Charm as she snatched the pad from the twitchy-eyed scribbler and tossed it into a far corner. “No need to give the poor boy brain damage now.”

“Easy for you to say,” mumbled Finchy as she took to sitting on the ground with her arms crossed and scowling at the floor. “Not all of us have an 800 member Yahoo Group…”

“It was 897 the last I checked,” Cheering Charm responded brightly. “But who’s counting?”

“Oh, right then…” grumbled Finchy, “…just rub it in a bit more, why don’t you? It’s not like I-”

“ENOUGH!” shouted Hermione, stomping her foot in frustration. “Ron, these people are trying to kidnap us. KID….NAP. Do you understand that they’re not your friends? They’re criminals! They should be locked up…they should be – are you even listening to me?”

But her effort was in vain, as Ronald Weasley had not heard a word she’d said; in that short period of time when the two Authors had begun to argue, he’d made his way to the other side of the room, where he was currently caressing the arm of a rather annoyed looking Author, the one who went by the name of Musca.

"I am the new Hogwarts ladies' man," he said in a low, husky voice, staring at her with hungry, lust filled eyes.

Musca blinked.

"There's a back door to this place," Ron continued in the same low voice, running a finger up and down Musca's arm.

Musca blinked.

Ron looked a bit perturbed. Obviously, his usual charm wasn’t working. He hesitated for a moment before making another attempt at a pass.

"Did I tell you that I was the new Hogwarts ladies' ma-"

SMACK!

"You are not a ladies man!" Musca shouted angrily, shaking her fist in the air as the redhead cowered before her. "And furthermore, what's all this arm rubbing nonsense? Who do you think you are? Prince? I have the right mind to-"

Squirt. Squirt.

"HEY!"

"Settle down, now, sport." Lynney said as she and AJ Potter pulled Musca away from a smirking Madscientist while Ron rubbed his sore ego.

"Just who," Musca retorted, swinging wildly as she was lead away from the other Author, "put him in charge of the spray bottle, anyway?"

Madscientist shrugged, and twirled the plant mister about his index finger as if it were a revolver, and he the gutsy hero of a cowboy movie, before disappearing into the crowd.

“You know, Ron,” said Musca, who had now calmed down and shifted to staring belittlingly at the retreating form of Madscientist. “There’s something I don’t quite understand about you.” Ron failed to acknowledge her; instead, he was moving in on an absolutely viperish Kaze, whom the group had coincidentally forgotten to warn Ron was, in fact, something of a biter.

“You know, I am the new Hogwarts ladies- YEOOWWWW! What in the blazes was that for? You loony. I –OWWW!!!”

“As I was saying,” Musca interjected as Ron retreated behind the safety of, well, Musca. “There’s something I don’t understand about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked somewhat sorely as he held his right arm against his chest. “What’s that?”

“Well, you do know that Portkey is a Harry/Hermione site, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” he responded, somewhat hurt. “You don’t leave a bloke much of a chance to think otherwise…what with all those images of the two of them snogging on the main page and…”

“Wait a minute…” inserted Hermione, both she and Harry looking slightly aghast. “There are…images…of Harry… and I…together? Snogging?”

“If you checked the site out you’d know that,” responded Ron matter-of-factly to the now very white-faced girl. “Anyway, Musca, what’s your point?”

“I guess my point, Ron, is that Portkey is a Harry/Hermione site.”

Ron stared at her blankly for several seconds, visibly oblivious to whatever point she was trying to make. “And?”

“And…don’t you – you know – fancy Hermione?”

“Thanks for announcing it to the whole world,” Ron replied flatly.

“But…” Musca responded. “If you fancy Hermione…then what are you doing reading stories that center on  Harry and Hermione being involved…romantically?”

“Ouch!” replied Ron, holding his head. Several of the group members looked concerned. Madscientist turned to Hermione, plant mister pointed firmly in her direction; Hermione did not move towards her hurt friend.

“Are you all right, Ron?” asked Musca, examining him closely.

“I- I don’t know,” Ron replied, holding his head. “I just got this stabbing pain in my head, right after you asked me that question.”

“You mean why you like stories about Harry and Hermione being romantically involved?” she asked again.

“Ouch!”

“Curious,” said Musca, watching the boy. “Very curious. I wonder what could be causing that pain.”

“That’s simple enough,” said Frostbite Panda, moving forward. “I bet you anything that that dingbat Finchy didn’t find it pertinent to think up a reason as to why Ron would be into Harry/ Hermione stuff when she wrote this scene.” She looked over at Finchy, who was currently entertaining herself on the floor, interweaving the dirty white laces on her sneakers, humming contently, unaware that many sets of eyes had fallen upon her in annoyance. “Therefore, anytime Ron here tries to explain why he just gets a sharp pain in his head… because there is no real reason.”

“Hey, the same thing happened to me earlier today!” exclaimed Harry. “Every time I tried to remember why it was so important for me to hold an emergency Quidditch session – and it’s a good thing I did,” he added arrogantly, “- because you never know what kind of imminent doom would have befallen the wizarding world if I didn’t – but every time I tried to think of a reason, I’d get this massive headache!” The group members looked at him, bewildered.

“Writer’s block,” offered Goldy knowingly. “You all think it’s a pain for us to bear, try being one of your characters and having to deal with it. I should know, I went through three Lunas last year during a particularly bad spell of it. Heads popped clean off.” Several of the group members winced as she said this, some nodded in understanding; Harry had a thought.

“Why do you all think that Hermione and I are going to end up together?” he asked carefully. “I mean, if you read the books, you all by now should have seen the clues that Ron and Hermione, and Ginny and me for that matter, were destined for each other.”

The Oxford Comma, who, until this point, had been busy inserting itself into various parts of the story, moved to the front of the group, looking outraged.

“Clues? What clues?” it demanded belligerently. “This is an outrage! It’s scandalous, that’s what it is. I can’t believe you think you’re going to convince me that there have been clues in those books about the two of them…or you and Ginny for that matter,” it added, looking angrily at Harry. “Preposterous!”

“Uhm…Comma…I think you should think about what you’re saying,” said Littlecreek tentatively, for a large shadow began to overhang the place where the Oxford Comma currently stood.

“I most certainly will not!” it responded defiantly. “Who are these people to tell me- the Oxford Comma of all things- that for the past seven years I’ve been missing giant clues – non-existent clues?” It stared upon the crowd dangerously.

“Intolerable!”

“Comma, you really need to calm down,” Littlecreek pleaded as the Oxford Comma continued its rant beneath an ominous, quickly growing shadow.

“How do you expect me to calm down at a time like this? It’s ridiculous! I won’t allow it! There were no clues! Nothing! Nothing, I say! Why, as a matter of fact, if you were to-“

CLUNK.

Several screams rang out about the room; a bell tolled in the distance; the wind whistled its melancholy lament to a somber sky while a few lost souls watched a brutal truth crash down upon them.

And amidst it all, the Oxford Comma lay motionless beneath the crushing weight of a giant, black anvil.

“Oh, well that’s just fantastic, now, isn’t it?” said Hermione crossly, staring at the group members like an angry mother would her misbehaving child as they – the misbehaving children – could only stare about sheepishly, finding comfort in their shoes, the walls, each other – anything that wasn’t the cold, unforgiving eyes of Hermione Granger. “I hope you’re happy, you lot. You’ve just killed the Oxford Comma!” It was a long time before anyone spoke. Vicarious Leigh moved forward, twiddling her fingers nervously.

“Well,” she began, “he…she…uhm…It…was overrated anyway.”

“It’s not like we really needed It,” added Mary Caroline.

“Yeah, I mean, who wants to remember to add extra commas in, anyway?”

“Just unnecessary work, that…”

“And besides…we tried to stop it…”

“What else could we have done?”

“Oh, fiddle sticks!” shouted Finchy.  “Now my shoelaces are all knotted together! Would anyone happen to have a utility knife?”

-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

A/N: Special thanks again goes out to all of the Authors involved in this project. It just wouldn’t be funny without you. Thanks to PotterMama for being such a lovely Beta. Also- thanks to all of you who’ve read and reviewed! I really appreciate your feedback; it helps me determine where I should take this story. I haven’t been able to respond to all of your reviews yet, but I will get to you at some point, I promise!

Also, I’d like to give mention to a book 6 re-write project which is currently under way. If you have any interest in participating in a group re-write, please check out: http://www.witherwings.net.

Thanks again for all of your time and support!

Ever yours,

Finchy