by FawkesthePhoenix » Monday 28 April 2008 8:17:22pm
Everyone else seems to have started fan fics, so I thought I'd join the fun. This is a one chapter parady of CoS. I don't have any assosiation with the brands Prada, Louis Vuiton, Spandex, or any of the other brand names mentioned.
* * *
I, Harry Potter, am here to tell you what really happened in my second year. I can no longer stand the lies of my editors. They took my story and crippled it, changing the title and general plot so as not to violate any copyright laws. Then they published it under the name of my therapist, Jo Rowling. I had told her everything, my feelings, my thoughts, so she knew how to make it seem Potter-like. But you, readers, deserve to know the truth. So, without further ado, here is the story of what really happened when I entered year #2 at Hogwarts.
* * *
I found the blood red Prada bag in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She moaned so much because she had died wearing socks with sandals. Someone had flushed it down Myrtle's toilet, making the weepy ghost flood the bathroom, outraged that she couldn't fit her ghostly makeup bag in it's sinister depths. I was sure finding it was the best thing that ever happened to me, for surely this could help stop everything happening in Hogwarts? Maybe I'd give it to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who'd been seen wearing pink with red, or maybe Nearly-Headless Nick, who'd worn pleather to his death-day party. Or maybe, just maybe, I'd keep it for myself.
A few days later rumors flew. Whispers of the Chamber of Fashion appeared everywhere. Then Hermione finally took charge.
“Professor, Professor Binns!” she said, hand in the air one History of Magic class. “Can you tell us about the Chamber of Fashion?” Binns was obviously reluctant to say a word about it, but at the sight of everyone paying attention for a change he caved and agreed to tell the story.
“Well, you all know that the school was founded by the four greatest designers of the age. Three of them, (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw) all got along quite well. But Slytherin wished to be more selective about the fashion sense of the students taught. The others disagreed. Greatly angered, Slytherin left the school. But legend states that before he left, Slytherin built a catwalk, and sealed it, so that one day his heir would unleash the monster within, which would show the founders their folly by making each student a geek. But this of course is all nonsense. The school has been searched many times, and no such Chamber of “Fashion” has been found.”
I did not doubt the existence of the chamber, and kept my eyes open for signs. One day, I was examining my beautiful purse to make sure it really was a true Prada when I accidentally wrote on it with my eyeliner. I was so sure it was ruined when suddenly, the makeup disappeared. This really got me excited. I decided to throw caution to the wind and idiotically write my name on it with some truly beautiful peachy lipstick. Like the eyeliner, it sank right in. But this time, it came back. In snakey writing, it said,
Hello Harry Potter, my name is Tom Riddle.
Now I was amazed, and quickly wrote back the first question that entered my mind.
Do you know anything about the Chamber of Fashion?
Yes.
Can you tell me?
No.
But I can show you.
Let me show you.
And I was sucked into the purse, where Tom Riddle showed me that he'd caught Hagrid selling illegal imitation Louis Vuiton scarves by way of the monster in the Chamber of Fashion. I couldn't believe it. But whenever I tried to talk to him about it he ran away to Azkaban. Eventually Hagrid told me to follow the Rolex watches. Yeah, that was a fiasco. All I learned was that Hagrid didn't do it and that all watches are terrified of the monster. Oh yeah, and I nearly got suffocated by an army of angry accessories. I hadn't felt this annoyed since Malfoy won the fashion show. Trust me, Malfoy and leather jump suits don't mix. And the foray into the Slytherin boutique in the hopes of catching Malfoy red-handed in geek-making didn't help. If there's one thing that will scar you for life, it's a picture of Voldemort in Spandex. No pun intended.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, two things happened. My glorious Prada bag went missing and Hermione went geek. I saw her wearing a long purple skirt with bright blue sneakers and a plaid sweatshirt. She was immediately admitted into the Hospital Wing. I was visiting her with Ron (no, Ron isn't a character made up by my therapist!) when I found a crumpled piece of construction paper in her pocket. That's how I found out about the basilisk, the monster in the Chamber of Fashion. It only takes a glimpse of its eyes to damage your fashion sense beyond repair. So why is no one irreversibly altered? Everyone saw the eyes indirectly by way of mirrors, ghosts, water and cameras.
It only took one discussion with Myrtle to uncover the truth. The entrance to the Chamber of Fashion was in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom.
Unfortunately, before we could do anything, the small incident of Ginny getting kidnapped by the monster happened, causing all of us to get locked in our boutiques. We obviously couldn't go alone without getting caught and sent back, so Ron and I went to the most fashion-forward person left in the school: Professor Lockhart, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Of course, he turned out to be a complete coward. When I got the entrance open he took one look at the pipe he was expected to slide down and tried to run away.
“I can't go down there!” he squealed. “I heard the basilisk's skin is made of polyester! Polyester!” Lockhart added for emphasis. But we just shoved him in.
Ron and I reached the end of the pipe to find Lockhart tearily trying to rid his cloak of slime.
“All the club soda in the world won't be able to get this out!” he whined. Ron slapped Lockhart across the face, and a fast but furious cat fight followed, leaving both unconscious on the floor. I sighed, and walked on.
* * *
Soon I came to a giant catwalk lined with snakes. And at the end lay Ginny. Her robes were slowly turning tye-dye, and I knew she wouldn't last much longer.
“Ginny, wake up, wake up, wake up!” I hissed. Then a voice carried out of the darkness lining the catwalk.
“She won't wake.”
And out of the darkness came Tom Riddle.
“You see, Harry, as dear Ginny grows geekier, I grow stronger.”
That's when I realized he had my wand.
“ Give it back.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“Speak to me Slytherin, most fashionable of Hogwarts four.”
That's when I heard the hiss. The Basilisk was coming.
* * *
Well, I did what any sane person would do. I ran. But I guess I wasn't fast enough, because the basilisk had soon cornered me. But then Fawkes the phoenix came and blinded the basilisk. Haha. Take that, Tom Spittle. For now the basilisk had no idea where I was. But Tommy's dulcet tones were soon heard.
“Forget the bird, get the boy! You can still smell his cheap cologne, smell him!”
Cheap? Me? I have you know that I purchase only the best scents. However, the basilisk obviously didn't think so and soon caught a whiff of my charming musk. So I started running again, and, well, the rest is history. I stabbed the basilisk with Godric Gryffindor's best stiletto heels, then stabbed Tom Spittle's diary with the basilisk's fang and for some odd reason it killed him. Oh, and by the way, he was actually Lord Voldemort. I figured you'd want to know that little fun fact. Then I went back with Ginny, whose robes were no longer geek infested, to the bathroom followed by Lockhart and Ron. Somehow everyone had found out what we'd done and prepared a midnight feast celebrating the basilisk's death, and the fact that everyone who'd gone geek was now back to normal. Life was good.
So there it is, the real story. In your face, editors!
Last edited by
DucksRMagical on Tuesday 29 April 2008 12:13:11am, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: requested by Fawkes