Hari-pota: the Anime by His Lordship Chaos

When reading this PG-rated fanfic, it is recommended that you sit a good distance from the computer screen, and scroll down with the room lights on.

Naturally, such a challenge as this can only mean one thing! No, it does not mean that Nifflers are actually a sub-species of Tribbles. Nor does it mean that Dobby the house elf has now signed on as the latest model for a new series of GAP television commercials (Everybody in Doilies). With the inclusion of this author's favourite word ("Baka!") in the challenge, it's time for His lordship Chaos to hereby allow this Harry Potter fanfic to be....

Hari-pota: the Anime

The night had a mysterious feel to it.

This probably had something to do with the unicorns prancing about, or perhaps the peculiar sight of the giant squid in the lake doing synchronised swimming with some Elder God known as Cthulhu. But mystery was a common thing when you attended a school for wizards and witches. More often than not, while the unexpected managed to surprise you every now and again, the overall mystery of magic and magical things lost its childlike allure.

Especially when deadlines had to be met.

Harry Potter leaned back in his chair, his feet propped up on the edge of a large desk as he mulled over the partially unrolled scroll sitting in his lap. A sugar quill was loosely held in his hand, though he didn't even have the desire to either write or suck on the caffeine-enriched plumage. The problem wasn't that he was preoccupied with the typical worries that filled his every school year at Hogwarts, such as run-amok Basilisks, Triwizard Tournaments, or the monster under his bed who seemed to be eating all his socks.

The current problem was that he didn't have anything to write about. For once he was perfectly focused on the task at hand. And naturally, he wasn't able to think of a thing to jot down on the scroll. Instead, he found his mind wandering into what was bound to be an obligatory plot exposition and recap segment for all you readers out there who just tuned into the fic.

His 5th year at Hogwarts had seen a lot of changes already, and it was only mid-November. For starters, the whomping willow tree had been replaced by an enormous sakura tree, which seemed to rain down pink flower blossoms no matter what time of the year it was. It was certainly romantic to walk outside, yes, but Filch was having conniptions about having to rake up all the piles of petals at least twice a day.

But with the return of No-Really-Who? to his former evil powers, the magical realms had been thrown into near pandemonium as rumours ran rampant in every corner of Diagon Alley and the rest of the world. Owlgrams filled with panicky whispers and possible (if not misleading) sightings of Voldemort to the Ministry of Magic had quadrupled in the last month alone. The Lock Ness monster herself had even gone so far as sending out a local bullfrog to relay an unsubstantiated sighting of the Dark Lord.

However the image she had sent with the bullfrog got warped by the water, and all the Ministry officials could look at was a hazy silhouette that might have been Voldemort washing his underoos.

The growing tension was being felt the most on the students of Hogwarts. They were not only hearing the rumours being circulated by their worried parents about Voldemort's allegedly newest conspiracy (the latest one involving the Dark Lord impersonating Elvis so as not to draw attention to himself), but the students at Hogwarts also knew they walked the halls of ground zero if a magical war broke out. It was common knowledge that two of Voldemort's greatest nemeses were situated here: the headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and Harry Potter.

Well...truth be known, Voldemort was also deathly terrified of dust mites and was known among the Death Eaters as being a notorious if not annoying clean freak (which was rather taxing since, by contractual obligation, all evil overlords are to do their evil plotting in a dark, grimy dungeon).

Yet to help keep the student body's minds off the ever-present danger of Can-You-Guess-Who?, the faculty had created a legion of after-school clubs. All the students, from first to seventh year, could sign up for whatever they wanted to, or create a new club if they so desired. The idea worked like a charm...and one or two probably had been used during the recruiting day.

How else could a club like Fun With Jabberwockies have managed to nab so many members?

Yet the corridors and colonnades of Hogwarts became filled with all sorts of kinetic activity. There were duelling clubs, drama clubs, amateur Quidditch clubs, and even a club for people against clubs. Fred and George Weasley had started up a 'Who Wants To be Our Latest Victim?' club, and anyone who signed up became the guinea pig for their latest prank creation. Even Fleur Delacour, a new addition to the faculty as a student teacher under Professor Flitwick, wound up having her own fanclub. Though the members just usually sat around and stared at her during their meetings.

In all honesty, Harry hadn't felt the urge to sign up for any of the clubs. Neither did Ron, for that matter. The problem had initially been that a lot of club leaders wanted to get Harry as a member, which was a surefire way to draw in big crowds. Students would sign up just to be around him. Having to dodge all the people trying to kiss up or tempt him between classes had gotten so annoying, Harry would have almost preferred another Basilisk to deal with.

Then Fate smiled upon him.

Or else Fate stuck her tongue out at him.

One can never be sure what Fate's up to these days, though odds are she spends a lot of time in the bubble bath, or playing poker.

Anyhoo, Hermione had started up a school newspaper called Hogwords, and was looking for some of the students to work on articles for each bi-monthly edition. At first Harry had balked at her request. Then he discovered that if he worked at the school paper, he could get exempted from Divination classes. Faster than you can say, "Stop the Hungarian Horntail, I'm going to be sick!", Harry and Ron happily offered their services to Hogwords.

That had been in September.

Now, two and a half months later, Harry was almost lamenting at having decided to join. Namely because they had run out of ideas for articles. Voldemort hadn't done anything noticeable, and any major hype events like the next Quidditch match weren't due to happen for another few weeks. Over half of the coming edition would be blank unless they could come up with something interesting.

"We need stories," Harry sighed.

"Like what?" Ron said, absently tapping his wand on his desktop. He was busy magically folding his scroll into a paper airplane.

There had been a few odd events that they had tried to write about, like a rumour they'd heard about in October of all the library books turning into a giant paperback monster and attacking a Hufflepuff girl late one night. There was also a rumour earlier in late September where apparently a Ravenclaw boy had been attacked by a strange monster created out of suits of armour from the east wing on the fifth floor.

Yet when Harry or Ron had tried to follow those reports up, Hermione had shot them down. "We're a paper, not a tabloid," she had said. "We write about facts, not gossip or urban legends. Go find something a little more realistic."

"Maybe we should do that secret expose about how Snape enjoys singing karaoke to Britney Spears songs," Harry said ruefully.

Ron winced in pain at the memory. "Please, I'm still trying to regress that horrific detention. I'd sooner scrub the entire trophy collection again rather than be forced to listen to Snape's crooning for another five minutes."

After some thought Ron then suggested, "There's always that ongoing conspiracy people have about Dumbledore having some past love affair with that Prune woman."

"That's Arabella Figg, Ron," Harry said. "Different kind of wrinkled fruit."

"Oh. Sorry."

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyways. We wrote about that last month, theorizing how she and Dumbledore were secretly married up in the northwest tower, while the rest of us had been sent out to the Forbidden Forest under the pretense of a fieldtrip."

The thought of a Mrs. Dumbledore was an odd one, admittedy.

But the students' interest in the subject had already faded, and now it was time to move on to another epic story. The only problem was Harry and Ron had to find it first, and they had not the slightest clue as to where to look. Compiling their worries was the fact that they had until tomorrow noon before their deadline was up.

If they failed in bringing out a single issue, the newspaper would be closed down and it would be back to divination classes with Trelawney. The last thing Harry wanted to hear was her shrill voice saying, "Ah, I knew you would be coming back to us, Harry Potter. I was told about your return by a message in a fortune cookie."

"We are so doomed," Harry lamented, almost resigned to having to go back to reading the wrinkles in his ears for future premonitions.

"The only recent thing of interest I can think of is the fact that Hermione cut her hair to be shoulder-length."

"Hey, it does look pretty on her. Maybe we should ask her if she knows about anything interesting going on," Ron offered.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, right. She's our editor, Ron. You know her: she'll get all indignant and tell us that we should go out there and find a story ourselves."

"She does enough of that dashing around herself to make up for all three of us," Ron muttered. "What is it with her this year, Harry? One minute she's there chatting with us in the club room, or we're walking down the corridor, and then suddenly she gets this look like she just stepped in wyvern poo. Next thing you know, she's making some excuse and dashing out on us. You'd think she had another Time-Turner to play with."

"Speaking of, where is she now?" Harry looked around the newspaper club's room, which was deserted save for him and Ron. Not many people had joined the Hogwords Paper, since a lot of the other clubs were more interesting and didn't require so much homework. That just made more work for Harry and Ron, who were left as the sole reporters.

"Who knows," Ron sighed. "Hermione's probably hunting for more boring information to squeeze into her editorials."

Harry set aside his scroll and sugar quill. "Well," he remarked as he got up from his chair. "I guess we should make some effort to go out and find something interesting before curfew sets in."

Ron balked at the idea, now busy working on making an origami dragon with magic. "I'm pretty comfortable here myself. Why not go with our patented Divination technique?"

"You mean make it up?"


Harry couldn't help but grin as he reached for the discarded scroll once more. "Sounds like a plan. How about we--"

Just then the door to the Howgwords club chamber was flung open, and in pranced the newspaper's very own cartoonist. "Here you are, Harry-kins!" Draco squeaked happily, glomping onto Harry and nearly knocking them both onto the floor. "Hard at work, I see! Can I give you a massage and a full body oil rubdown to help you relax?"

Harry unceremoniously clobbered Draco with a well-placed elbow jab.

"New plan," he announced. "We follow our journalistic instincts, and go out hunting for stories."

Ron nodded as he watched Draco twitch on the floor. "Definitely. You know, Harry, I think the only reason he joined the school paper was to be closer to--"

"Shut up, Ron."


As it turned out, combing the halls of Hogwarts for a news story was harder than it sounded. With only a few minutes left before curfew was out, Harry and Ron were still left with no decent leads on anything even remotely interesting--Peeves and Moaning Myrtle tangoing down the hallways not counting.

"Looks like we make something up tomorrow morning at breakfast," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "I can already hear Hermione berating us for making a mockery of her paper."

"Say, do you smell something, Harry?" Ron abruptly asked.

Harry paused and sniffed the air. Sure enough, there was a curious but enticing scent wafting down the corridor. "You're right. I don't know for sure, but it--" He took another sniff. "--it smells like a bakery."

"That's odd," Ron said. "We're nowhere near the portrait which leads into the kitchen. And it's way past dinner too, so who would the house elves be cooking for?"

"Whatever the reason, it's making me hungry," Harry said.

Ron's face brightened. "Idea! Why not do a story about how the house elves go about preparing the food at Hogwarts! Bet no one outside of you, me, my brothers and Hermione know about that. It might win some prestigious journaling award or something."

"Works for me," Harry agreed as the two strolled towards the painting required for access into the school kitchen.

However, they were not halfway to their destination when Neville Longbottom came dashing around a corner and practically bowled the both of them over.

"Neville, you stupid git," Ron grumbled as he picked himself off the floor. "What's gotten into you?"

Neville, however, wasn't listening. "You've got to save me!" he cried out, immediately darting in behind Harry and pushing the confused magician forward. "Go stop it, Harry, before it eats us all!"

"Before what eats us all?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Did Fred and George slip you another carnivorous croissant again?" Ron inquired dryly.

Suddenly the entire corridor shook as a low, ominous rumble reached their ears. It sounded like a giant footstep. More rumbles followed, each one growing louder than the last. And then from around a corner, the source of Neville's latest hyperventilation attack appeared.

If there was ever such a thing as gingerbread man from hell (or from the East German women's Olympic swim team), that had to be it. Harry and Ron slowly raised their heads, looking up and up and up a little more at the towering form of some dessert pastry gone horribly awry. The culinary creature was enormous, its body and limbs bulbous globs of half-baked dough. Icing dribbled down its chin like drool. Three beady jujube eyes glared down at the trio.

Harry suddenly lost his appetite.

"What the hell is that?!" Ron exclaimed.

"I don't know!" Neville answered. "I was just down in the kitchens, trying to get ready for the cooking club tomorrow--we were going to be baking Caramel Creampuff cakes, so I wanted to try it now and not screw up tomorrow--but this thing came out of the oven instead! It ate four house elves before coming after me!"

As if on cue, the enormous pastry beast bellowed and charged at the trio. Naturally, when faced with such a dangerous situation, Harry and Ron knew exactly what to do: they turned and ran like hell. The cake beast gave chase, rampaging through the halls of Hogwarts in search of a second course.

"Well," Ron said between breaths for air. "The good news is that we've definitely got a story for tomorrow's paper! Let's just hope we live to tell about it!"

"It's still behind us!" Harry exclaimed, his robes billowing out behind him as he rounded a corner.

"We'll never outrun that thing at this rate!" Neville gasped, nearly slipping on the floor as he followed right behind Harry.

"Technically, we just have to outrun you, Neville," Ron replied glibly, trying to push Neville forward. "That monster will have to stop running when it eats you, after all."

Neville's face drained of all its colour. "What?"

"We wouldn't do that, Neville," Harry said. "We'd feed it Draco instead."

They skidded to a stop as they reached a T-junction in the halls. Harry looked to his left and then to his right. "This way!" he shouted, pointing to their right. "It leads outside. We have a better chance of either losing it or fighting it with more open space!"

The three spun around as they heard the cake beast's latest bellow rumbling through the halls...followed immediately by the sound of Filch shrieking about the large, white flour footprints being left on the floor. This was followed immediately by the crunchy sounds of the dough beast eating Filtch. A very foreboding silence ensued, but it quickly ended as the cake monster gave a loud "PTOOIE!" and spat out Filch, who apparently didn't taste very good.

"Maybe we should have tried feeding him Draco after all," Ron remarked with a chuckle.

"We've got a good headstart now too," Harry added. "Come on, we're almost there."

They reached the archway leading out into an open courtyard, and the trio raced until they reached the middle. From their vantage point they'd be able to see the dough beast coming from any direction. Overhead the full moon was casting a brilliant silver glow on the grass and the castle walls. The air was filled with a deluge of pink cherry blossoms being playfully blown about the wind.

"I'm open to ideas for spells or curses on killing that thing," Harry spoke up, warily scanning the perimeter. "Neville, just what did you do to that cake?"

"I don't understand it myself," Neville panted, opening up the cookbook he'd had tucked under his arm the entire time. "I followed the recipe exactly!"

"Give me that book!" Ron snapped, snatching the cookbook away from Neville's hands. He quickly scanned the recipe in question. "What the? Neville, you idiot, the last half of this Caramel Creampuff cake recipe is a summoning spell for a rock golem!!"

"So now we're about to be crushed by a golem made entirely of cake dough?" Harry remarked. "Somehow this wasn't the way I expected myself to die."

Ron's eyebrow twitched furiously and he glared at Neville. Neville in turn gave Ron a nervous, optimistic smile. "Um...oops?"

Replied Ron: "BAKA!!"

With that, Ron unceremoniously punted Neville straight out of the courtyard and high into the night sky, Neville's little form soon becoming just a distant twinkle on the moonlit horizon.

"Was that absolutely necessary?" Harry asked.

"No, but it made for a great sight gag," Ron replied.

Harry shrugged. "Works for me. But Ron, this golem spell was made to resemble the rest of the recipe. Neville didn't just read the wrong pages; someone planted this here knowing he'd create that thing."

"But why?"

The answer came in the form of a voice suddenly laughing in a most brazen manner. "Bwah ha ha hah ah ah hah ha!!!"

Harry and Ron whirled, looking around the courtyard. "Who's there?" Ron called out, drawing his wand.

"I don't see anyone," Harry muttered, his own wand drawn and pointing at nothing in particular. As hard as he looked around, he couldn't see anything.

"Maybe they've got an invisibility cloak," Ron muttered, putting his back against Harry's. "Stay on guard, Harry."

The mystery voice suddenly groaned. "Oh for the love of...you just ruined my only chance at a decent dramatic entrance, you know that? Hello, I'm up here!"

Ron and Harry looked up to the ramparts lining the top of one of the castle walls. To their surprise, standing there was none other than Peter Pettigrew!!

"Ratboy!" Ron hissed.

"Yes, it is I, Wormtail!" Pettigrew cackled wickedly, apparating down next to the golem. His cackling abruptly tapered into a series of dry hacks, and he was forced to quickly take of swig of Evian to moisten up his throat. "As I was saying," he resumed. "I was the one who helped Neville unwittingly unleash that cake/golem hybrid, and all the other ridiculous-looking chimeras before it!"

"What does he mean by 'all those other chimeras'?" Ron muttered aside to Harry.

Harry shook his head, his want still pointed at Pettigrew. "No idea. Expelliarmus on three?"

"I like that plan," Ron agreed, levelling his wand with Pettigrew's face.

Pettigrew had yet to notice the impending attack. "Ah, I had no idea I would wind up luring you two into this trap," he sighed happily, lost in his own delusions of adequacy. "The Dark Lord will be pleased to learn I not only managed to destroy those pesky magical girls, but you boys as well."

Harry stopped counting down. "Pesky who?"

"I'm telling you, running around in a hamster wheel all those years has warped his mind," Ron said. "Let's get him now while he's distracted."

That time, Pettigrew was listening. "Not so fast!" he snapped. "You cannot attack an evil villainous underling in mid-speech! It's against our contract!"

Realising he was right, Harry and Ron lowered their wands.

"Curse his evil disenchanted lawyers," Ron hissed.

This unfortunately gave the dough chimera more than enough time to come crashing through the archway and storm into the courtyard. With a snicker, Pettigrew gestured to Ron & Harry. "Dough golem, swallow those two whole, but try not to choke on them."

The dough golem burbled a response, then slowly turned towards Harry and Ron. With large lumbering motions it began to stalk towards them, licking its icing-covered lips with a long bit o' creampuff for a tongue.

Harry and Ron never hesitated, aiming their wands and shouting, "Expelliarmus!!" as loud as they could. The flash of light from their wandtips was intense, their spell striking out and hitting the dough golem in the chest. But instead of either burning a hole through the golem, or even just reducing it to hundreds of small crispy flakes, the golem's body jiggled as the Expelliarmus spell bounced back.

The ricochet nearly took Ron's head off as he dove for cover, the ends of his robes singed. "Okay, new plan," he stated, scrambling back as the dough golem advanced. "What is it, Harry?"

"I'm about ready to wet my pants, personally," Harry replied.

The demonic dessert loomed over Harry and Ron, prepared to scoop them up and messily devour them. And in the face of certain death, the two guys did the very macho thing of grabbing tightly onto each other and screaming like an HP newbie stumbling across a Neville/Dumbledore/Hagrid slashfic.

But then suddenly a loud voice shouted out, "Hold it right there!"

Harry and Ron were so surprised that they stopped screaming and looked curiously around the courtyard. Even the dough golem gave pause and let out a "RGH?" Pettigrew, on the other hand, made a few disparaging remarks that can't be repeated here in a PG-rated fanfic.

Seizing the lull in action, Harry grabbed a hold of Ron's uniform, and the two of them dashed across the courtyard. Hiding behind a large garden fountain, they peered over the basin to see what was going on.

"Who's there?" Pettigrew called out.

As if on cue, a gust of wind rose up and blew a fury of cherry blossoms across the sky. And somewhere amidst the majestic (albeit clichéd) windfall of petals appeared a young heroine standing atop a rampart of the castle walls. Her arms crossed over her chest, she stood silhouetted in the silver glow of the low-hanging moon in the skies behind her. The folds of her sailor-styled blouse and pleated skirt fluttered in the wind, as did the curls of her shoulder-length, brown hair.

"Oh, not you again," Pettigrew groaned.

The young heroine struck a dramatic pose, pointing down at the dough golem. The dough golem just gave a confused look and made some glorping noises.

"While we are here to feed our minds at Hogwarts, the stomach also needs nourishment!" she loudly proclaimed. "Being full of good food is just as important as being full of good facts...even if the food's prepared by house elves who deserve more rights! But the combination of the two makes a recipe for good students who study and get high grades. And now you have gone and soured the taste of Hogwarts academic life with your cheap, low-budget chimera."

Down in the courtyard, Ron was left scratching his head in bewilderment, the terror of being eaten by a dough golem kind of ruined by the new plot contrivance--er, twist. "She certainly is mincing together every cooking euphemism in the book," he remarked.

"Say, that girl on the wall isn't who I think it is, is it?" Harry said uneasily, adjusting his glasses.

Ron squinted and leaned forward for a better look. His jaw abruptly dropped. "No...it can't be! Sure, the hair matches her new cut...but since when did she dye it bright pink?"

"Excuse me," Pettigrew snapped at the young heroine in the sailor getup. "But I'm sort of in the middle of wreaking unspeakable evil and having some students get messily devoured. Could you come back later, say in ten minutes?"

The young lass scowled and made a threatening gesture at Pettigrew. "This culinary crime against natural laws and the kitchen is unforgivable! Agent of magic and justice, Magical Girl Pretty Hermione, has arrived! And in the name of Hogwarts, I shall open up an enchanted can o' whup ass on your sorry butt!"

The narrator shall now pause to let all of you readers adjust to the shock. And get some popcorn too.

What, no butter?

Getting back to the story, Ron and Harry had been completely forgotten by Pettigrew, Pretty Hermione, and the large dough-thingy that goes "Glorp!" in the night. Which is just as well, considering how they were too busy boggling at Hermione in a sailor battle uniform to really be of any use to the action scenes.

Harry slowly turned to Ron, unable to wipe the look of shock (not to mention that spot of leftover mustard from dinner) off his face. "Ron...your girlfriend's a...a magical girl."

"She'd mentioned having gotten a part-time job over the summer," Ron said, scratching the back of his head in total bewilderment. "But I hadn't expected this."

"Wow, look at how short her pleated skirt is, Ron!" Harry exclaimed, noting some of the fanservice she was giving them. "Um...Ron? Ron?"

Ron, on the other hand, was staring wistfully at Pretty Hermione (or more specifically, her shapely legs), and in desperate need of a bib to collect all his drool.

Pretty Hermione adeptly leapt off the rampart and landed softly on the courtyard's lawn. The sudden movement caught the dough golem's eyes, and the half-baked beast menacingly turned towards her. Just then out from the shadows dashed Crookshanks. The ginger cat drew up next to Pretty Hermione, intently studying the dough golem. "Be careful, Pre'y Hermione," Crookshanks said. "This one's different from a' the other wee chimeras ye fought before. It's been created ta be resilient against attacks n' impacts."

Pretty Hermione frowned as she appraised her adversary. "A well-placed Infernus spell may just do the trick though."

Meanwhile, in behind the fountain....

"Harry, her cat just talked," Ron said, growing more exasperated with each passing paragraph. "And since when could Crookshanks speak with a Scottish accent?!"

Harry didn't answer, lost in his own thoughts. Ron punched him in the arm.

"Ow! Sorry," Harry said. "I suddenly wondered how Hedwig would sound if she started talking to me."

"Let's not go there, Harry."

The dough golem let out a tremendous roar that shook the walls of the courtyard, dust and loose pebbles tumbling down off the stone blocks. Ron and Harry ducked behind the basin again, though Pretty Hermione stood her ground as the dough golem began to lumber towards her, its back to Harry and Ron.

"Harry, we've got to do something," Ron hissed. "Magical girl or not, she'll be crushed or devoured by that thing if we don't do something!"

"What can we do?" Harry retorted, just as flustered as Ron. "You heard Crookshanks. Any spell we cast at it is liable to get bounced back at us. How are we supposed to fight something like that?"

"Let's try that freezing spell we learned last month," Harry said. "It's worth a try. We aim for its legs and try to immobilize it."

Ron nodded, clutching his wand in his hands. "Let's do it, Harry. On the count of three. One."

Harry and Ron jumped out from behind their hiding place.


They aimed their wands at the dough golem's ankles.

Suddenly, another Hogwarts student came racing out from one of the other entrances. Ron and Harry jerked back their wands as the girl ran right between their wands and the golem.

"Now what?" Ron snapped. "We nearly killed her!"

Harry's face paled as the moonlight caught the reddish tint of the young girl's hair. "Ron," he breathed. "It's Ginny. Ginny's out there with that chimera thing!"

Ron nearly went into hysterics. "Harry, we've got to save her before the golem--"

He was cut off as Pretty Hermione shouted, "Ginny, quick! Transform and give me a hand here!"

"--eats her?" Ron finished, blinking in newfound surprise.

Ginny nodded to Pretty Hermione, then dutifully raised her wand over her head. "Coquettish Magical Make-Up Transformation!!" she shouted.

Suddenly Ginny's form was bathed in a pillar of crimson light, the Hogwarts robes on her body momentarily vanishing before being replaced by a sailor-styled battle uniform similar to Hermione's. Added to this was the fact that Ginny's usually flaming red hair was now a brilliant shade of lime green.

Ginny struck a dramatic pose of her own, loudly proclaiming to the dough golem, "Agent of magic and justice, Coquettish Battle Babe Ginny is here to lay the smackdown on your gingerbread butt!"

Ron nearly shouted out, "Ginny?!" at the top of his lungs upon seeing his younger sister transform. Harry hastily clamped his palm over Ron's mouth and yanked them back behind the safety of the fountain to avoid being seen.

"Well that explains Hermione's pink hair," Harry mused to himself. "Whenever they transform into those...costumes, magical hair dye of love and justice helps create a new secret identity so no one will recognise them!"

"But we figured out it was Hermione pretty fast," Ron countered.

Harry immediately smacked Ron upside the back of the head. "Hush! We'll have no more of you revealing holes in the plot."

"Sorry," Ron pouted, rubbing where he'd been smacked on the head. "Even still, I can't believe my sister's a magical girl too. This is getting too weird, Harry."

"You don't know the half of it," Harry replied as he peeked out over the fountain again. "They're fighting the dough golem...with some really peculiar spells."

Sure enough, Pretty Hermione and Coquettish Ginny had engaged the enemy, and the dough was certainly hitting the fan. The golem roared and stumbled around, trying to swat either magical girl into the walls with its immense arms. Pretty Hermione ducked one swipe made at her, countering by holding out her palms and shouting, "Avada Kedavra of a thousand papercuts!!!"

A blast of emerald light exploded from her hands, ushering with it an intense barrage of flying pages taken from one of her textbooks. The dough golem grunted as the edges of the papers sliced and hacked at its form. While no cut was deep enough to inflict serious damage, the golem was still forced back.

"No no no!" Pettigrew exclaimed from the sidelines, making large arm gestures to his chimera. "Go left! No, your other left! Not that left, the *other* left!! Fake a cramp and call a five minute time-out. Anything! Just do something constructively evil, okay!"

Not about to be left out of the battle, Coquettish Ginny raced across the lawn at an incredible speed, heading straight towards the dough golem. She held out one of her arms, a large ball of pulsating white light gathering in her hand. Just as she dashed past the golem, she launched her attack at it while shouting, "Expecto Explodum!!"

The volley sheared the golem's right arm off at the elbow, the severed appendage hitting the ground and bursting into a gooey puddle of liquid pastry. With a startled yelp, the dough golem stumbled sideways and looked to its master for help.

"Well don't just stand there, kill something!" Pettigrew shouted at it. "Do I need to draw a diagram for you?!"

The dough golem grunted an affirmative, spinning around and levelling its three eyes at the girl who had cleaved its arm off. Coquettish Ginny was still running, putting a good, safe distance between her and the creature. That didn't matter much.

The golem puffed out its chest, unleashing a barrage of wet, syrupy dough balls at Coquettish Ginny. They crashed all around her, bursting into large puddles of goop. Coquettish Ginny frantically tried dodging them, but there were too many. One struck her in the back, sending her tumbling head over high heels across the ground.

As she picked her battered self off the ground, Coquettish Ginny felt the cold, dark shadow of the dough golem fall over her. She slowly turned her head and saw the golem bringing down a fist, intent on crushing her where she laid.

"Ginny!" Ron, Harry and Pretty Hermione cried out all at once.

Yet a heartbeat before the golem's immense fist would have flattened, a blur of colour swooped down from the skies above, flying past Coquettish Ginny and carrying her off before the golem's fist pounded a crater into the lawn.

Surprised that she wasn't flattened, Coquettish Ginny looked around and realised she was airborne and sprawled across a broomstick (and the lap of the flyer). She looked up, only to see the grinning face of Cho Chang looking down at her.

"Always the hard way with you, isn't it, Ginny?" Cho (now with mauve-coloured hair) remarked with a wink. "Good thing you're not heavier, unlike some magical girls I know."

"I heard that!" Pretty Hermione snapped.

Dolled up in her own sailor battle uniform, Cho grinned and flashed Pretty Hermione a V-sign as she lowered Coquettish Battle Babe Ginny back onto the ground. "Demure Damsel Soldier Cho is here to help bail you ladies out, as always!"

Pretty Hermione rolled her eyes at that.

Now it was Harry's turn to have a twitching eyebrow fit as he gawked at Cho. "What the hey?"

"Is this a new club we were uninformed about?" Ron demanded of no one in particular. "And is every girl we know a member?"

Suddenly, just as the golem was about to deliver another volley of dough balls at the magical girls, another gust of sakura petals were blown across the courtyard. And sure enough, as if on cue, two new silhouettes appeared against the backdrop of the full moon.

"Hm, looks like they're handling this chimera just fine," Sultry Lingerie Fighter Parvati remarked, wrapping her arms around the neck of her fellow magical girl. "It appears we didn't have to make an appearance after all, love."

Sexy Teddy-Clad Commando Lavender sighed. "All that foreplay for nothing."

Harry turned to Ron. "I'd say that's a big 'yes'. What about you?"

Given the stunned if not vacant expression on Ron's face, it was quite evident his brain had ceased trying to understand everything that was happening. "This is going to be the greatest story in history," he said finally. "Forget out little school paper, Harry. We're going to outscoop anything the Daily Prophet's every written!"

"I don't know," Harry said. "It's a strange thought, that Dumbledore secretly selected a group of female Hogwarts students to fight off these really lame, secret attacks being made by Voldemort's lackeys."

"Yeah, but I don't see how this situation could possibly get any stranger," Ron agreed.

And at that exact moment, the dough golem located Crookshanks trying to hide in a darkened corner of the courtyard. Crookshanks let out a yowl as she was caught up in the chimera's fist, struggling to claw her way through the dough. Yet it was to no avail.

"Crookshanks!" Pretty Hermione screamed, watching helplessly as the small feline was tossed into dough golem's mouth like a kernel of popcorn. "NOOO!!!"

Yet it was too late.

The golem swallowed, and the hacked up a small hairball.

Harry made a face. "You know, it doesn't look quite so disgusting when an animal does that on the Discovery Channel."

"C-Crookshanks," Pretty Hermione whispered, a blank, horrified expression on her face. All of her poise and determination was gone. With the demise of her faithful pet and obligatory talking mascot, her will to fight was snuffed out. The shouts of her fellow magical girls were lost to her as the dough golem stormed towards her, ready to pummel her into an unpleasant pulp.

"Yes!" Pettigrew cackled. "Die, Magical Girl Pret--oh, this is taking too long to say. Why can't you girls have shorter names?"

Pretty Hermione stared up at the approaching golem, tears streaming down at her eyes. "I can't do it," she whispered. "Not now. I can't beat this chimera without Crookshanks. I just can't."

The dough golem raised its fist into the air to deliver the death blow.

"Pretty Hermione!!" the other magical girls screamed.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted.

Suddenly, a sugar quill shot through the air, nearly taking off the dough golem's bulbous nose in the process. Startled, the golem backed down from its attack and searched for the new intruder. Pretty Hermione's eyes widened as she saw the sugar quill sticking out from the grass like a dart. She spun around, staring up at the top of the walls. "Tuxedo Snape!" she exclaimed.

There atop the walls stood the dark, tuxedo-clad form of Professor Snape, who looked oddly dapper in his tophat and white eyemask. "Pretty Hermione," he called out to her. "Even though she is no longer with us, Crookshanks shall live on in your memories. But to die now would mean she was sacrificed in vain. Destroy this latest chimera, avenge her death, and stop You-Know-Who from destroying everything else we love! Believe in friendship, believe in magic, and above all believe in yourself! And don't forget about that Potions essay due next Wednesday!"

Pretty Hermione sniffled and wiped away her tears, managing a brave smile. "Yes. Thank you, Tuxedo Snape!"

And with that, Tuxedo Snape made a dramatic pose, his cape flapping behind him, before ducking through the nearest exit.

Harry gaped as he watched their Potions professor vanish. "Tuxedo...Snape?!"

"Urge to impale myself on my own wand...rising!!" Ron said, his eyebrow twitching all over again.

"Suddenly I think we'll entrust the rest of this fight to them," Harry said, leaving the fountain and heading for the nearest doorway. "How about you, Ron?"

"Snape...a pretty-boy masked bishounen?!"


The Griffyndor common room was quiet that evening as Harry and Ron managed to sneak back after curfew without getting caught. They only gave a few silent nods and waves in acknowledging their dorm mates, taking up a few armchairs in the back corner of the common room. For a long time the two guys just sat there, saying not a word to each other or anyone else.

About fifteen minutes later Hermione breezed in, Ginny discreetly slipping in through the Fat Lady's portrait behind her. "Whew, that was stressful," Hermione sighed, taking an armchair next to Ron's as Ginny ducked up the stairs to girls' rooms. "I lost track of time in the library and had to try to make it back here without being caught after curfew. So, how's your evening been? Did you find a story for tomorrow's edition?"

Harry slowly turned to Ron, deadpan looks on both their faces. "Um...nothing happened tonight, Hermione," Harry said in a monotone voice. "It was very uneventful...Nothing worth writing about... Right, Ron?"

Ron nodded, still trying to forget about the image of Tuxedo Snape burned into his memory. "Yes...absolutely nothing."


His lordship Chaos would like to thank the following sponsors for their support: J.K. Rowland for unwittingly letting me cast her characters into a typical Anime-styled magical girl series. This one was more modelled off Naoko Takeuchi's series Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon. Bets are currently being taken as to which creator will be the first to hunt His lordship Chaos down and smack him senseless with a troll of love & justice.

This fic goes out to fellow conspirator Sean Gaffney, who argued that Tuxedo Snape was a much better idea than the one I had about Draco Malfoy going Super Saiyan and using a Kameyameya spell on the chimera du jour.

METMA Mandy and her challenge comes courtesy of the letters Q, D and the number 25. Check out her website at: www.oocities.org/metmamandy/ and discover how no one expects the Spanish Inquisition.

For those of you wishing to send His lordship Chaos Emails, Howlers, therapist bills and Tickle-Me Dementor dolls, write to: hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com

E-mail the Author