A moment of inspired insanity
This is what I get for going back to online Harry Potter RPs after many years away...
DRACO: Hogwarts!
CRABBE: Hogwarts?
GOYLE: Hogwarts.
BLAISE ZABINI: It's only a model.
DRACO: Ssh! Slytherins, I bid you welcome to your new home. Let us ride our broomsticks to... Hogwarts!
(Music breaks out.)
DRACO: We're Voldemort's Death Eaters! Nobody else can beat us! We wear Dark Marks and quote Karl Marx, and play with our pet cheetahs! We're from the house of Slytherin, where the idiots are blitherin'!
(All the SLYTHERINS break into dance.)
DRACO: We're Voldemort's Death Eaters! You'll love us when you meet us! Our spells are slick, our wands are quick, nobody can defeat us! We're from the house of Slytherin, we're direct, not known for ditherin'!
(Cut to dancing wizards on the table in the Great Hall. Cut to prisoner in Azkabhan clapping his hands in time. Cut to Crabbe treading on a cat which yowls. Cut to Draco playing a tune on a row of cauldrons, bang-a-bang-dong. Ends with hitting Ron Weasley on the head; he keels over senseless.)
DRACO: We're Voldemort's Death Eaters! We're purebloods and eliters! Between our crimes we make strange rhymes and play Quidditch as beaters! We're from the house of Slytherin --
GOYLE, very deep: My inner thighs are quiverin'!
(Dancing reaches a crescendo. Cut back to the SLYTHERINS.)
DRACO: ...On second thoughts let us not go to Hogwarts. It is a silly place.
DRACO: Hogwarts!
CRABBE: Hogwarts?
GOYLE: Hogwarts.
BLAISE ZABINI: It's only a model.
DRACO: Ssh! Slytherins, I bid you welcome to your new home. Let us ride our broomsticks to... Hogwarts!
(Music breaks out.)
DRACO: We're Voldemort's Death Eaters! Nobody else can beat us! We wear Dark Marks and quote Karl Marx, and play with our pet cheetahs! We're from the house of Slytherin, where the idiots are blitherin'!
(All the SLYTHERINS break into dance.)
DRACO: We're Voldemort's Death Eaters! You'll love us when you meet us! Our spells are slick, our wands are quick, nobody can defeat us! We're from the house of Slytherin, we're direct, not known for ditherin'!
(Cut to dancing wizards on the table in the Great Hall. Cut to prisoner in Azkabhan clapping his hands in time. Cut to Crabbe treading on a cat which yowls. Cut to Draco playing a tune on a row of cauldrons, bang-a-bang-dong. Ends with hitting Ron Weasley on the head; he keels over senseless.)
DRACO: We're Voldemort's Death Eaters! We're purebloods and eliters! Between our crimes we make strange rhymes and play Quidditch as beaters! We're from the house of Slytherin --
GOYLE, very deep: My inner thighs are quiverin'!
(Dancing reaches a crescendo. Cut back to the SLYTHERINS.)
DRACO: ...On second thoughts let us not go to Hogwarts. It is a silly place.