Harry Pothead, the Stoned Philosopher
Herm, Hermi, Hermione
said Harry, inhaling some more of the sweet smoke from the little pipe that Hagrid had given them. It tasted good.
Hermione giggled. Harry watched. God, she looked beautiful.
Herm, Hermi, Hermione
attempted Harry once again
Don’t you ever get the feeling you’re being watched. I mean, like everyone’s watching you – that you’re never really, truly on your own. I know old Bumbelbore goes on about free will and all that, but sometimes I feel like even my thoughts aren’t even my own. And what’s magic, eh, if it’s not an interference in the free will of others? And it’s weird, sometimes, it’s like, it’s like I’m stuck in a book or film or something and everyone’s following my every move and it feels horrible, Hermione, it feels so really, really horrible.
Hermione giggled. God she looked, beautiful.
I mean, what if we’re not really in control. What if it’s all been pre-determined by some megalomaniac story teller in the sky, and we’re just prawns in the hands of fate.
Hermione giggled.
You said prawns.
God she looked beautiful.
No I didn’t.
Harry tried to remember what he had been saying, if not prawns.
What if, what if, what if we’re just little fish. What if we’re just little fish in a vast beginningless pre-destined ocean?
He was remembering now.
What if we’re just mere entertainment for some perverted, manipulative, frustrated shark of a semi-deity. I mean, old Vordefart is...
Hermione gasped and then giggled.
Vordefart! Vordefart! Vordefart! Vordefart!
shouted Harry.
It felt strangely good and, more to the point, Hermione gasped and giggled, gasped and giggled, gasped and giggled, and gasped and giggled as he had known full well she would.
God, she looked beautiful.
Ron entered the room with a plate stacked high with steaming rounds of cheese on toast, surmounted by a merrily-munching Scabbers.
I mean
said Harry
Old Vordefart is as harmless as little Scabbers there when compared to someone who uses unsuspecting kids for mere profit and entertainment.
You sound a bit paranoid, Harry
said Ron, offering the plate of toast to Hermione who promptly took three pieces, all the while giggling.
Who told you I was paranoid?
Harry felt his scar begin to itch.
Easy now, Harry
said Ron, exchanging the plate of toast for Hagrid’s pipe.
Harry breathed in a great waft of melted cheddar and couldn’t resist folding a piece of toast in two and trying to cram it all at once into his parched mouth. He looked over at Hermione, who was giggling. Even with strands of bright orange cheese dribbling down her front, she looked beautiful. In fact, no, maybe, Harry squinted through his glasses at the cheese settling upon her chest, and felt a confusing shudder somewhere in his body, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it…
Now where was I?
Talking paranoid paranormal shit as usual
said Ron, blowing out a big smoke ring.
Hermione giggled.
Don’t talk like that Ron
said Harry
Someone might hear you.
I rest my case
said Ron and a big, satisfied grin spread across his face
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit
giggled Hermione.
God, even when she was talking rudely, she looked beautiful.
Harry looked at his two friends and thought about all the adventures they’d been through and felt another confusing shudder pass first down through his body and then back up. Ron was blowing smoke up Scabbers’ nostrils and Hermione now had the pipe and was drawing down a deep breath of smoke and was blowing it out, and, wow, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven concentric circles of smoke floated from between her cheddar orange lips and began to dance with one another and she winked at Harry – Harry was sure it was a wink and he knew that he was in the middle of saying something very important but couldn’t remember what. Maybe that magical herb in Hagrid’s pipe had something to do with it all. Yeah, maybe that’s why Hagrid was always forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to tell them things. Harry felt the room begin to spin with excitement and felt inside his pocket for those three pink pills that Hagrid had also given them. Maybe they’d help him remember things. He looked at Ron. It looked like Scabbers was making rude magical gestures in Ron’s mop of red hair, but surely Scabbers wouldn’t do a thing like that…
All right Ron?
said Harry.
All right, Harry
replied Ron.
All right, Hermione?
asked Harry.
Never felt better in all my life
giggled Hermione.
God, she looked, beautiful…
Herm, Hermi, Hermione
said Harry, inhaling some more of the sweet smoke from the little pipe that Hagrid had given them. It tasted good.
Hermione giggled. Harry watched. God, she looked beautiful.
Herm, Hermi, Hermione
attempted Harry once again
Don’t you ever get the feeling you’re being watched. I mean, like everyone’s watching you – that you’re never really, truly on your own. I know old Bumbelbore goes on about free will and all that, but sometimes I feel like even my thoughts aren’t even my own. And what’s magic, eh, if it’s not an interference in the free will of others? And it’s weird, sometimes, it’s like, it’s like I’m stuck in a book or film or something and everyone’s following my every move and it feels horrible, Hermione, it feels so really, really horrible.
Hermione giggled. God she looked, beautiful.
I mean, what if we’re not really in control. What if it’s all been pre-determined by some megalomaniac story teller in the sky, and we’re just prawns in the hands of fate.
Hermione giggled.
You said prawns.
God she looked beautiful.
No I didn’t.
Harry tried to remember what he had been saying, if not prawns.
What if, what if, what if we’re just little fish. What if we’re just little fish in a vast beginningless pre-destined ocean?
He was remembering now.
What if we’re just mere entertainment for some perverted, manipulative, frustrated shark of a semi-deity. I mean, old Vordefart is...
Hermione gasped and then giggled.
Vordefart! Vordefart! Vordefart! Vordefart!
shouted Harry.
It felt strangely good and, more to the point, Hermione gasped and giggled, gasped and giggled, gasped and giggled, and gasped and giggled as he had known full well she would.
God, she looked beautiful.
Ron entered the room with a plate stacked high with steaming rounds of cheese on toast, surmounted by a merrily-munching Scabbers.
I mean
said Harry
Old Vordefart is as harmless as little Scabbers there when compared to someone who uses unsuspecting kids for mere profit and entertainment.
You sound a bit paranoid, Harry
said Ron, offering the plate of toast to Hermione who promptly took three pieces, all the while giggling.
Who told you I was paranoid?
Harry felt his scar begin to itch.
Easy now, Harry
said Ron, exchanging the plate of toast for Hagrid’s pipe.
Harry breathed in a great waft of melted cheddar and couldn’t resist folding a piece of toast in two and trying to cram it all at once into his parched mouth. He looked over at Hermione, who was giggling. Even with strands of bright orange cheese dribbling down her front, she looked beautiful. In fact, no, maybe, Harry squinted through his glasses at the cheese settling upon her chest, and felt a confusing shudder somewhere in his body, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it…
Now where was I?
Talking paranoid paranormal shit as usual
said Ron, blowing out a big smoke ring.
Hermione giggled.
Don’t talk like that Ron
said Harry
Someone might hear you.
I rest my case
said Ron and a big, satisfied grin spread across his face
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit
giggled Hermione.
God, even when she was talking rudely, she looked beautiful.
Harry looked at his two friends and thought about all the adventures they’d been through and felt another confusing shudder pass first down through his body and then back up. Ron was blowing smoke up Scabbers’ nostrils and Hermione now had the pipe and was drawing down a deep breath of smoke and was blowing it out, and, wow, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven concentric circles of smoke floated from between her cheddar orange lips and began to dance with one another and she winked at Harry – Harry was sure it was a wink and he knew that he was in the middle of saying something very important but couldn’t remember what. Maybe that magical herb in Hagrid’s pipe had something to do with it all. Yeah, maybe that’s why Hagrid was always forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to tell them things. Harry felt the room begin to spin with excitement and felt inside his pocket for those three pink pills that Hagrid had also given them. Maybe they’d help him remember things. He looked at Ron. It looked like Scabbers was making rude magical gestures in Ron’s mop of red hair, but surely Scabbers wouldn’t do a thing like that…
All right Ron?
said Harry.
All right, Harry
replied Ron.
All right, Hermione?
asked Harry.
Never felt better in all my life
giggled Hermione.
God, she looked, beautiful…
