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AaronShadows (Offline)
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Default 04-18-2011, 08:30 AM

AMG. I just found this Harry Potter fic. I'm not even sure if it's a badfic or a lolfic or a roflfic or something yet, but Finnigan got cursed in the seventh paragraph, so. XD I considered giving this a thread of its own, but I decided it would be better to post it here, given the subject.

Dumbledore's Army and the Year of Darkness Chapter 1: The DA Reborn, a Harry Potter fanfic - FanFiction.Net

"Any witch or wizard who marries a Muggle is taking a terrible risk. The children born from such unnatural unions -" Alecto Carrow motioned with her wand towards the blackboard, the points appearing there in her heavy, scrawling handwriting as she named them off. I never saw this in book seven "Can expect deformity, retardation, severe anti-social tendencies, and often a complete lack of magical ability. In addition, as Muggle females are ill-bred to handle magical children, serious complications can result in such pregnancies, leading in some cases to the death of the female. Is that what happened to your mom? Likewise, an attempt by a witch to carry the child of a Muggle male – yes, Mr. Finnigan?" Oh, here it goes.

Seamus stood, his face a study in scholarly innocence as he lowered his hand. "Please, ma'am, those anti-social tendencies, they'd be the reason You-Know-Who's so delusional, then?" Go on Seamus!

Neville felt as though his stomach had abruptly dropped into his feet. Had Finnigan lost his mind? No, he's just Irish He wished it weren't too late to catch his friend's eye, to warn him off of saying something so crazily inflammatory, but the damage had been done. **** right it has, the Irishman has spoken The words on the blackboard dissolved in smoke as Carrow's face slowly turned a deep scarlet. Watch your blood pressure, there.

"The Dark Lord carries the blood of the great Slytherin himself through generations of powerful wizarding families such as the Gaunts and the Peverells," she hissed between clenched teeth. "More than powerful enough to counteract the pitiful influence of any Muggle... if you choose to believe disgusting rumors spread by petty, small-minded, Mudblood-loving fools. He's Irish, he doesn't need rumors to form an opinion But you are certainly proof that no ordinary slum-dragging witch can marry filth without consequence!"

To Neville's surprise, Seamus seemed to take the attack on his mother in stride, Implying somebody is about to be socked in the head with a hurley nodding as if her answer had been perfectly reasonable. "Then if we're to be takin' the example of the Gaunts and keepin' it all in kin, can I ask when you and Amycus'll be expecting?" Oh wait, he just owned her. Go on Finnigan!

A collective gasp sounded through the classroom, and Neville slipped his hand into his pocket, closing his fingers unobtrusively around the handle of his wand. Seamus had brought whatever punishment was coming on himself, without a doubt, but if it was going to be too much, Neville was prepared to fight to save his fellow Gryffindor's life. The look on their new teacher's face certainly suggested it might come to that. Forget about her, she's not Irish.

Seamus, however, simply stood silently, facing her with the same look of serene curiosity Oh you clown, Finnigan on his face until the moment her wand snapped towards him. " CRUCIO !" she shrieked, and the curse hit Seamus with such force that he flew backward over his chair, crashing into the desk behind him. Poor him. Or perhaps, I should say POOR DESK Lavender Brown jumped to her feet and screamed as he slid down to the floor, his body thrashing and writhing against her legs Lucky bugger as the agony of the curse swept through him.

At the head of the class, Carrow watched, her teeth bared in feral glee at Seamus' pain. You'll pay for that eventually, harpy Neville's hand grew so tight on the wand that his fingernails cut into the flesh of his palm, but he made no move, forcefully reminding himself that it was only the second day, too early to do anything rash or foolish. Forget second day, blow the place up and be home in time for supper, **** you If he made any move towards Seamus, he would join him instantly on the floor, helpless under the wracking pain of the curse he remembered all too well from the night he had faced the Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic.

After what seemed like years, a hand appeared on the surface of Lavender's desk, and Seamus slowly pulled himself upright. He was trembling, his chin scarlet and his shirt stained with blood where he had bitten almost completely through his lower lip, Refer to: Badass but incredibly, he was smiling. "Touch a nerve, there?" OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Slowly, Carrow stalked across the classroom, her squat, round-shouldered form moving with bullish intensity towards the taller student. Queen Méabh, anyone? Reaching him, she stared nastily up into his face, putting the tip of her stubby wand I C WUT U DID THAR directly under his chin and forcing him to look upwards. "I take no disrespect from half-breed Irish dung, Ní dóigh liom go raibh boladh fiú aoileach chomh dona is tú, slaig Finnigan." Lowering her wand, she unleashed a thick gob of spittle that hit Seamus directly in the face, then, with a quick, harsh motion, snapped the wand up again.

Before she could utter the curse, however, Seamus's own wand was in his hand, dropped out of his sleeve in a motion that seemed almost magic in itself. " Ionsaigh !" DID HE JUST DO MAGIC IN IRISH? For the record, the word he said means attacked in Irish he shouted.

Carrow doubled over as if punched, beady eyes bulging in pain, and Neville gasped in shock. Silently, he urged Seamus to run, to flee, to Stupify her and get away before she could retaliate. Or just kill her on the spot for insulting the Irish, whichever floats your boat But it was too late. Already, Carrow had recovered enough to jab her wand towards the young Gryffindor, and all Neville could do was wrap his arms around Parvati, who was sitting next to him, and hide her face in his robes so that she didn't have to watch. Because women are too soft to watch this shiz, yo.

OOO Oooooh?

I'mma stop sporking here, cuz the shiz is too long anyway, and I'm utterly derailing the thread.

Allow me to add another thing to my list of fanfiction pet peeves; when the Irish guy gets *****ed over like this. Because obviously, the Irish are too impulsive and reckless NOT to start a war with their freak fascist teacher on the second day of school. Hurp.

Or maybe I should just simplify that to BLATENT STEREOTYPING OF THE IRISH, but anyway.

Now, on the subject of the above, I hate it when people flip sh*t and ragequit when you try to give them some healthy advice. On the RP server I play on, we suffer from a huge inflood of incredibly *****lish, wannabe-bad@ss characters who end up bringing down every RP they enter by turning it into a "my powah is bigga dan juur powah" measuring contest. =/ When anybody tries to suggest that they should tone down their IC attitude, they completely lose it. X_X

As above, the sad bit is that they have potential, if they'd only listen to reason and cop on that they don't have to be the center of everything or the big awesome.


“I mean a weapon you hold. You have a gun, Tanith has a sword... I want a stick.” ~ Valkyrie Cain
“I’ll buy you a stick for Christmas.” - Skulduggery Pleasant
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