Harry Potter and the Whiny Crooner

            Having been home from Hogwarts for just over a week and feeling the pressures of being an underage wizard in ways that were beyond comprehension, Harry decided to take advantage of his Muggle surroundings and take the bus into London for the day. He stopped briefly in Diagon Alley to exchange a dew galleons for Muggle money and then off into the big city he ventured.

            The music on the bus was absolutely revolting. Harry tried to no avail to block it out of his mind, but since he had stopped practicing Occlumency he found this to be an un-meetable challenge.

            Any dream that we endeavour, boys and girls go good together…

            “Make it stop…” Harry though aloud.

            “I know what you mean. I can’t stand this stuff either,” whined the man behind him. Harry turned around to discover a tall, doe-eyed gentleman with several days’ stubble and a long mane of greasy hair that reminded him unsentimentally of Professor Snape.

            “Do I know you?” asked Harry.

            “You should,” the man replied. :I’m Scott Stapp.”

            “You’re who?” Harry asked, perplexed.

            “Stapp. Scott Stapp. I sing with the band Creed.”
            “I heard they broke up.”

            “Nah… vicious rumor.”
            “I’m Harry. Harry Potter.”

            “Really?” Stapp replied, “Amazing. You know, while I was at the airport I ran into Hansel and Gretel. Then when I got in the limo that took me to my hotel the Three Little Pigs helped me stow my luggage.”
            “Oh bugger off you wanker!” Harry said and turned his back on Stapp.

            “Ooh! Touched a nerve, did I?” said Stapp, with a note of pompous victory in his voice. “Well let’s have a look at that scar then. Come on, Harry…let’s see that wand of yours. Maybe we’ll run into a Dementor or two!”

            “One can hope,” Harry muttered without turning back around.

            “Or maybe,” Stapp chided on, “I can watch you vanquish a few orcs!”
            “Do I look like Frodo Baggins to you, you pillock?”

            “No…you look like Sid Vicious after a bender.”

            “Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

            “You got some mouth on you, you know that, kid? I think someone ought to shut it for you.”

            Poor Harry didn’t know what to do. He knew that if he used magic against this loser that he would be expelled for sure. He braced himself to run when the bus reached his stop and try to outrun Stapp (who would obviously follow him off the bus if only to keep up the altercation).

            The bus stopped and Harry made a run for it. Stapp gave chase as Harry had feared. Harry ran for what seemed like hours until he came upon a dark alley full of lod, broken office furniture. As he got close to one of the file cabinets he heard a strange rumbling from within. It couldn’t be… could it?

            “Hey, dogmeat!” Stapp yelled from the end of the alley. “You don’t seem so tough now, do you?”

            “Why don’t you come see for yourself you hairless ape!”

            Stapp advanced on Harry. Even from a distance Harry’s eyes burned with anger like two electrified green M&Ms. Stapp made a final lunge for Harry as Harry whipped open the drawer letting loose the Boggart he knew was in there. Immediately the boggart assumed the form of Hillaree Stapp, wearing nothing but a black bra and sweat pants and carrying a cell phone.

            “I NAILED FOUR GUYS IN YOUR BEEEEEEEEED!!!!!!” the boggart Hillaree  wailed. A look of terror overtook Stapp as the boggart hurled the cell phone at him, only to have the phone fly back into its hand upon impact. It pelted Stapp again and again until Stapp was naught but a quivering mess in the middle of the alley.

            “That’s enough of that,” Harry said pulling out his wand. “Riddikulus!”

            Immediately the boggart retreated to its drawer and bothered Stapp no more.

            The paramedics arrived moments later and upon examining Stapp with their Stethoscopes determined that he would be just fine. A few bumps and bruises were all he had sustained, save the blow to his pride.

            An owl swooped into the alley with a letter from the Ministry of Magic. This was it. He’d used magic outside school again and he was surely expelled from Hogwarts. Opening the letter, Harry read:

Dear Mr. Potter, 

Well, you’ve been at it again, haven’t you?

Good show! That bugger needed a good trouncing!

Have a nice day!

-Mafilda Goshawk, Ministry of Magic