Fic: Pitch-ing a Fit (No Challenge)
Title: Pitch-ing a Fit
Summary: The Gryffindors have a new painting guarding their tower entrance and she's like nothing they've ever seen before. Inspired by this tumblr post.
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Fred, George, Percy, Angelina, Katie, etc.
Genre: Humor
Beta: None
Rating/Warnings: G/Silliness
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1266
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure
If yes, your Tumblr username: N/A
“I think I gave enough information on how Ida the Insufferable brought about the start of the Second Ghoul Revolution, but I think I may have left out some key points on how the Ghouls managed to convince her family to turn against her,” Hermione fretted, clutching her books to her chest as she, Ron, and Harry climbed the staircase to the Gryffindor common room. As always, she was eager to discuss the results of their latest exam, this time for History of Magic, ignoring the looks of exasperation on her friends’ faces.
Ron rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Hermione, you always think you forgot something, but you always get a perfect score - better than perfect sometimes!”
“Don’t be silly, Ron, there’s no such thing as better than a perfect score.” Even as she said that, her cheeks flushed as though imagining what it would be like to be receive a better than perfect score. “How did you two do on the exam?”
“Rather not talk about it,” Ron muttered glumly, with Harry nodding in agreement.
“Well, you would have done better if you had spent last night studying instead of playing with that Fanged Frisbee Fred and George smuggled in.”
“Oh, don’t you start on me now!” Ron spat back. “It’s bad enough that blasted thing attacked me,” he mumbled, holding up his bandaged hand. “Made holding a quill nearly impossible.”
“Well, you could have gone to Madam Pomfrey about it. She would have fixed you up straightaway.”
“And admit to playing with something that’s been banned from the castle? No way!”
“Better that than failing an exam!”
“I’d rather take that than snitch on Fred and George!”
Just when Harry thought he would have to intervene in this quickly escalating argument the trio hit a wall of people crowing the stairs. “What now?” he asked irritably, trying to peek over the many heads in front of them.
“Excuse us,” Ron said to a few first years near the back, “Gryffindor third-years coming through. That means move it,” he added when they remained rooted to the spot.
“We can’t,” one of the first-year girls said. “No one’s moving!”
Ignoring her, they surged forward, pushing through the crowd (ignoring the glares from younger classmen) until they had reached the front. Seamus and Dean were standing there, looking as though they were at their wits ends.
“What’s the hold up?” Harry asked them. “Why aren’t we moving?”
“She won’t let us in!” Seamus said, pointing to the doorway to their entrance.
Ron groaned. “Oh, bloody hell! Not again!”
It had been like this ever since the Fat Lady had quit her job as guardian of the Gryffindor tower, claiming she had been offered a job as a Mona Lisa understudy (everyone knew it was really because she felt the job benefits weren’t up to her standards). Unfortunately, her replacement had been less than satisfactory.
“If you wanna be with me, baby there’s a price to pay,” the woman in the painting crooned as she performed an accompanying choreography within the tight space of her frame, “I’m a genie in a bottle, you gotta rub me the right way.”
“We’re not rubbing you any kind of way! Just open!” Dean bellowed.
“I did that song when I was with the Barden Bellas,” she said, ignoring their pleas. “We were national champions.”
“You’ve told us,” Katie Bell said, arms crossed as she slumped against the wall. “You have told us many times. We. Don’t. Care.”
“I’m multi-talented too,” she continued. “I’m also well-versed in modern dance, olden dance, and--”
“Mermaid dancing,” the entire group of Gryffindors echoed in perfect unison.
“Which doesn’t exist, but the way,” Hermione added in her know-it-all tone. “I checked everywhere in the library here and the muggle library at home.”
“Actually, I was going to say mechanical bull-ride dancing, but now that you mention it maybe I should show those mermaids in the Black Lake my skills,” the portrait said pensively, trying to glance out the nearby window into the lake where the real mermaids lived.
Harry stepped forward. “Look, Fat Patricia--”
“Fat Amy,” the portrait corrected.
“What? But only last week you insisted we call you Fat Patricia.”
Angelina nodded. “Said you wanted us to call you that to your face so we wouldn’t say it behind your back.”
“Well, I changed my mind. Fat Patricia is so…blah,” she grunted, making a face. “But Fat Amy has a bit more…oomph, you know what I’m saying?”
No one did know what she was saying, but they all nodded weakly, hoping she would finally open and give them sanctuary to their common room.
“Anyway, after the Bellas won the College A Capella Championship everyone wanted a piece of us, but I knew I didn’t want to sell out, you know? I wanted to do something fulfilling with my life.”
“Like being the guardian of the Gryffindor tower?” Neville asked wearily.
“Yeah, exactly” Fat Amy said, “Gryffindors…like a lion.” She began making over the top lion faces, like silent roars, holding up her hands like claws. “I can be pretty ferocious when I want to be.”
“That’s great,” Ron said cautiously, “really…but can we please enter the Gryffindor towers?”
Fat Amy held up a wagging finger. “Uh-uh, you didn’t give the password.”
“Yes, we did!” Seamus insisted. “I said ‘Treblemakers suck’ and you refused to let us in!”
“That’s the old password,” she said as the other Gryffindors groaned. “You need to give the new password.”
“What?” Fred asked. “New password? What’s the new password then?”
“Didn’t that Head Boy of yours tell you?”
At that, Percy stepped forward, face red as his hair. “Ahem…yes, the new password. It’s…um…that is…”
“Out with it, Percy!” Fred and George shouted.
“That is…oh, alright,” he said, throwing his hands up into the air. The new password is…” He cleared his throat and then began. “I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign, life is demanding without understanding,” he sang in an off-key warble as he also performed clumsy dance moves. “I saw the sign,” he finished with a flourish.
There was the smallest of beats and then the stairway echoed with laughter. Fred and George were hanging onto each other for support and even Ginny was in tears at the sight of her brother’s song and dance. Percy’s cheeks grew even redder.
“Well,” he said, nose in the air, “that got me into the Gryffindor tower. However, Fat Patri - er -- that is to say, Fat Amy has already informed me that in order to gain entry you all must perform it as well.” He climbed into the entrance, giving his fellow housemates a wry grin. “Have fun!”
Suddenly the crowd grew quiet, watching in horror as the entry way snapped shut and they were faced once again with that grinning, rotund, blonde woman. “Password?” she asked.
With no other alternative, the group broke into song and dance, chanting the words of the song in a monotonous tone and giving just enough to the dance to make it appear they were trying.
“Fine,” Fat Amy said, swinging open once again for the remaining Gryffindors. They didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled through the entrance in groups of four or five, some people crawling over others to get inside before their portrait created another strange password for them to recite. Finally, with all members of the house safely inside, the portrait snapped shut.
Fat Amy snapped her fist as if cracking a whip, even adding a whip sound effect. “Crushed it.”
ColleenClaw/42
Summary: The Gryffindors have a new painting guarding their tower entrance and she's like nothing they've ever seen before. Inspired by this tumblr post.
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Fred, George, Percy, Angelina, Katie, etc.
Genre: Humor
Beta: None
Rating/Warnings: G/Silliness
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1266
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure
If yes, your Tumblr username: N/A
“I think I gave enough information on how Ida the Insufferable brought about the start of the Second Ghoul Revolution, but I think I may have left out some key points on how the Ghouls managed to convince her family to turn against her,” Hermione fretted, clutching her books to her chest as she, Ron, and Harry climbed the staircase to the Gryffindor common room. As always, she was eager to discuss the results of their latest exam, this time for History of Magic, ignoring the looks of exasperation on her friends’ faces.
Ron rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Hermione, you always think you forgot something, but you always get a perfect score - better than perfect sometimes!”
“Don’t be silly, Ron, there’s no such thing as better than a perfect score.” Even as she said that, her cheeks flushed as though imagining what it would be like to be receive a better than perfect score. “How did you two do on the exam?”
“Rather not talk about it,” Ron muttered glumly, with Harry nodding in agreement.
“Well, you would have done better if you had spent last night studying instead of playing with that Fanged Frisbee Fred and George smuggled in.”
“Oh, don’t you start on me now!” Ron spat back. “It’s bad enough that blasted thing attacked me,” he mumbled, holding up his bandaged hand. “Made holding a quill nearly impossible.”
“Well, you could have gone to Madam Pomfrey about it. She would have fixed you up straightaway.”
“And admit to playing with something that’s been banned from the castle? No way!”
“Better that than failing an exam!”
“I’d rather take that than snitch on Fred and George!”
Just when Harry thought he would have to intervene in this quickly escalating argument the trio hit a wall of people crowing the stairs. “What now?” he asked irritably, trying to peek over the many heads in front of them.
“Excuse us,” Ron said to a few first years near the back, “Gryffindor third-years coming through. That means move it,” he added when they remained rooted to the spot.
“We can’t,” one of the first-year girls said. “No one’s moving!”
Ignoring her, they surged forward, pushing through the crowd (ignoring the glares from younger classmen) until they had reached the front. Seamus and Dean were standing there, looking as though they were at their wits ends.
“What’s the hold up?” Harry asked them. “Why aren’t we moving?”
“She won’t let us in!” Seamus said, pointing to the doorway to their entrance.
Ron groaned. “Oh, bloody hell! Not again!”
It had been like this ever since the Fat Lady had quit her job as guardian of the Gryffindor tower, claiming she had been offered a job as a Mona Lisa understudy (everyone knew it was really because she felt the job benefits weren’t up to her standards). Unfortunately, her replacement had been less than satisfactory.
“If you wanna be with me, baby there’s a price to pay,” the woman in the painting crooned as she performed an accompanying choreography within the tight space of her frame, “I’m a genie in a bottle, you gotta rub me the right way.”
“We’re not rubbing you any kind of way! Just open!” Dean bellowed.
“I did that song when I was with the Barden Bellas,” she said, ignoring their pleas. “We were national champions.”
“You’ve told us,” Katie Bell said, arms crossed as she slumped against the wall. “You have told us many times. We. Don’t. Care.”
“I’m multi-talented too,” she continued. “I’m also well-versed in modern dance, olden dance, and--”
“Mermaid dancing,” the entire group of Gryffindors echoed in perfect unison.
“Which doesn’t exist, but the way,” Hermione added in her know-it-all tone. “I checked everywhere in the library here and the muggle library at home.”
“Actually, I was going to say mechanical bull-ride dancing, but now that you mention it maybe I should show those mermaids in the Black Lake my skills,” the portrait said pensively, trying to glance out the nearby window into the lake where the real mermaids lived.
Harry stepped forward. “Look, Fat Patricia--”
“Fat Amy,” the portrait corrected.
“What? But only last week you insisted we call you Fat Patricia.”
Angelina nodded. “Said you wanted us to call you that to your face so we wouldn’t say it behind your back.”
“Well, I changed my mind. Fat Patricia is so…blah,” she grunted, making a face. “But Fat Amy has a bit more…oomph, you know what I’m saying?”
No one did know what she was saying, but they all nodded weakly, hoping she would finally open and give them sanctuary to their common room.
“Anyway, after the Bellas won the College A Capella Championship everyone wanted a piece of us, but I knew I didn’t want to sell out, you know? I wanted to do something fulfilling with my life.”
“Like being the guardian of the Gryffindor tower?” Neville asked wearily.
“Yeah, exactly” Fat Amy said, “Gryffindors…like a lion.” She began making over the top lion faces, like silent roars, holding up her hands like claws. “I can be pretty ferocious when I want to be.”
“That’s great,” Ron said cautiously, “really…but can we please enter the Gryffindor towers?”
Fat Amy held up a wagging finger. “Uh-uh, you didn’t give the password.”
“Yes, we did!” Seamus insisted. “I said ‘Treblemakers suck’ and you refused to let us in!”
“That’s the old password,” she said as the other Gryffindors groaned. “You need to give the new password.”
“What?” Fred asked. “New password? What’s the new password then?”
“Didn’t that Head Boy of yours tell you?”
At that, Percy stepped forward, face red as his hair. “Ahem…yes, the new password. It’s…um…that is…”
“Out with it, Percy!” Fred and George shouted.
“That is…oh, alright,” he said, throwing his hands up into the air. The new password is…” He cleared his throat and then began. “I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign, life is demanding without understanding,” he sang in an off-key warble as he also performed clumsy dance moves. “I saw the sign,” he finished with a flourish.
There was the smallest of beats and then the stairway echoed with laughter. Fred and George were hanging onto each other for support and even Ginny was in tears at the sight of her brother’s song and dance. Percy’s cheeks grew even redder.
“Well,” he said, nose in the air, “that got me into the Gryffindor tower. However, Fat Patri - er -- that is to say, Fat Amy has already informed me that in order to gain entry you all must perform it as well.” He climbed into the entrance, giving his fellow housemates a wry grin. “Have fun!”
Suddenly the crowd grew quiet, watching in horror as the entry way snapped shut and they were faced once again with that grinning, rotund, blonde woman. “Password?” she asked.
With no other alternative, the group broke into song and dance, chanting the words of the song in a monotonous tone and giving just enough to the dance to make it appear they were trying.
“Fine,” Fat Amy said, swinging open once again for the remaining Gryffindors. They didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled through the entrance in groups of four or five, some people crawling over others to get inside before their portrait created another strange password for them to recite. Finally, with all members of the house safely inside, the portrait snapped shut.
Fat Amy snapped her fist as if cracking a whip, even adding a whip sound effect. “Crushed it.”
ColleenClaw/42