“The class of Practical Wizardry is designed to help you in your writing, so that you will not create bogus spells which inflict our realm with ‘Kus’ or ‘Blocktiria’. We will be exploring short term syllabi of all the major Hogwarts classes, and several small independent studies.” Professor McGonagall adjusted her glasses to stare beadily down at the fanwriters.

Ally gulped. This seemed like a hard class; they might actually have to work! But Hogwarts was supposed to be fun! No—no—essays, or fifty-page homework assignments!

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. “If and only if you pass this class, you shall be placed in next semester’s course ‘Wizardry, the Lab Practical’. There you shall learn how to perform several simple spells to enhance your writing.”

One of the Canonlaws, Catherine Dark Wolf, raised her hand. “How will we perform spells?”

“Why, with wands of course,” said Hermione Granger from her stool at the front of the room. “Not real ones, of course, but a temporary substitute developed a couple weeks ago.”

“Can we do that?” asked Knightsky, from Slashering.

Percy Weasley nodded. “Yes, but only if you pass this course...” Percy had looked depressed for the past week. There was a great deal of speculation about this among the fangirls. They had three possible ideas.

Number One: There were no Percy-lusters at HFA, and the Weasley was perhaps taking it rather hard. Though, as Antigra had pointed out, “He wants Lusters? Do you think he’s crazy? They’d attack him, you know, with glomping and hormones! Why would he want Lusters?”

Possible Reason Number Two: Percy was depressed that Practical Wizardry had been deemed “The Nerdy Class.” Though The Shroom said that this hadn’t bothered him in the books, so it probably wasn’t true.

Alternate Reason Three: Meir Brin hadn’t promoted him in the past week. This answer was generally accepted among the students at HFA.

“Are there any other questions?” asked Professor McGonagall. No answer, so she turned herself into a cat and stalked out of the room.

“Wait! Where’s she going? Isn’t she going to teach—” started KazraGirl from Wantingmor.

“Minerva McGonagall... shall not be teaching this lecture today...” said a misty voice in long, drawn out syllables. “She has preferred... to let the wiser, better, Trelawney... teach the class... on Divination...”

“Not you!” cried the Wantingmor Nasha Potter. The rest of the students responded in similar fashion. As part of the Lusters United detainment session, Meir Brin had had the L.U. aid Trelawney with her “u,” “ur,” “8,” “2,” and “1” rock garden.

“It shall teach... you... not to use... the Internet slang... in your fanfictions...” the Divination teacher had said. Ally had thought the lesson a good one. Pushing rocks the size of you around a sandy plot of land had been torture. And then to have Trelawney say, “On second thought... the spirits tell me to move the ‘2’ back where it was before...”

“The wiser, better Trelawney?” asked Andtauriel Longwood from Canonlaw. Ally pitied this student greatly. Crabbe and Goyle, who handled the HFA entrance forms, had not known of Tolkien’s Elves. Thus Andtauriel had been condemned to the form of a house-elf, the only type of elf known in Potterverse.

Though, as rumor had it, Meir Brin had agreed to see what Miss Cam could do for Andtauriel once she came to HFA for Crossover Class. Well, after Meir Brin had collected herself from fits of hysterical laughter, that was.

In the meantime, Andtauriel had been given a pair of stilts and a sign that said “No, I’m Not Dobby. Wrong Elf, Moron.”

“Wiser and better Trelawney, eh?!” said a familiar Scottish accent. McGonagall was back, with Mogonagle and Macgonnalal. “Wiser and better when the rocks melt and the sands run out!”

“I have not... foreseen... my own death, Minerva...” answered Trelawney in a superior voice.

Ally grimaced as McGonagall’s face contorted in anger. “Bonzai!” shrieked the Transfiguration teacher, transforming into a cat and diving at her Divination nemesis.

*********

“I have very sad news for you all,” said Meir Brin, looking at the anxious faces in the Aerobics Lair meeting chamber. “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets has been released as a movie.”

The amphitheater went dead quiet. There was a small snuffling sound in the back of the room as Dobby blew his nose.

“Any suggestions as to our present course of action? The influx of Badfic onto the Internet in the Potterverse category has nearly doubled. We must do something with the fanwriters,” said Meir Brin, going over to the large blackboard.

Lucius Malfoy stood and rapped his newly acquired cane on the floor. No one was quite sure where the cane had come from, but apparently Movie Two had altered the Fanwriter Perception so greatly that Lucius now had a cane, as most of the students saw him that way in their minds. As it was, the Canon Characters were not sure if the walking stick was in fact real, or just an illusion.

“Lucius?” said Meir Brin.

“We will kill them all.”

“Denied. Next suggestion?”

Dobby raised his hand. “Dobby would like to kill them all as well. Eight fanwriters, eight! They have come and hugged Dobby in the hallway! Dobby thought that his head would explode, but Dobby fought them off with his knitting-needle-sword,” said the little house-elf.

“We cannot kill them. Denied. Next sugge—”

“The rotten brats!” came a loud, angry voice from the entrance of the meeting room. “The rotten, filthy, damnable group!” Severus Snape strode forcefully into the room, looking as if someone had upended the contents of the Hogwarts Lake onto him. He tripped on his wet robes and tumbled down to the center of the amphitheater.

The student portion of the staff laughed. Even Albus Dumbledore was chuckling slightly under his mustache. Colin jumped up to get a photograph.

“Miserable—”

Meir Brin gripped her Switch of Character Banishment. There were three possible things that would come out of Snape’s mouth.

Answer One: “Miserable Harry Potter/Sirius Black/Remus Lupin! Die, Potter/Black/Lupin, die!”

Answer Two: “Miserable Fellowship of the Peeves! Die, Peeves, die!”

Answer Three: “Miserable Original Character! Die, Sue, die!”

“—Fellowship of the Peeves!” spat Severus, wringing the water out of his cloak.

Those of you who picked Answer Number Two receive a Mini-Aragog custom-made finger- (leg-? talon-? paw-?) painted postcard.

Fred and George snickered. Meir Brin had recently discovered the existence of a covert alliance between the pranksters of Hogwarts. She guessed that Fred and George were the perpetrators of this action. The Weasley-Peeves alliance had grown strong with all of the fangirls around.

Sure enough, Groirge and Wealey the Mini-Aragogs bounded into the room. “Sev-Sev! Play with us!” they wailed.

The Potions master looked at the small spiders irritably. “Are you common fangirls? My name is Severus Snape. Call me anything other than that and I will—”

Too late. The Mini-Aragogs picked him up and scuttled out of the meeting room. “Sev-Sev play! Sev-Sev play!” they squealed delightedly. The situation was about to decay into chaos when everyone in the room snapped to attention. They felt it in the air...

Meir Brin smiled. She could feel the presence of an inter-continuum portal forming. “Methinks Miss Cam is coming, with the Crossover Class.”