Deathly Hallows uberwank: Chapter 9, A Place to Hide
After that brief hiatus - UPDAAAAAAAAAAATE!!!!!1!11one
HAN SOLO: Out of the frying pan into the fire, huh pal? How should I know we'd come outta hyperspace into the middle of an Imperial convoy. At least against these fighters we got more of a chance. However slim...
- Star Wars Holiday Special
Previously on the Deathly Hallows Uberwank show, Bill and Fleur got married, a variety of characters were wheeled on and off again, and then a Patronus showed up to let everyone know that YOU'RE ALL GONNA DIEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! so don't panic or anything.
We start up again right after that happens. Confusion reigns for a few moments, and then we spring into action; Harry angles the deflector shield while Hermione makes the calculations for the jump to light speed. Ron, with a Chewbacca-style roar, grabs Hermione's free hand and our intrepid trio (side note about "trio" - has anyone else noticed that loads of poncy, gastro-pub type restaurants have started offering trios of things on their menus? In recent months I've been offered both a trio of fish and a trio of sausages) disapparate, landing right in the middle of London, on Tottenham Court Road. Another side note: I got oddly excited on the first time I read this when I read "Tottenham Court Road", as that was what I named the main street area of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. There wasn't any significance to it, other than the fact it needed to sound all Britishish and Englandy but I wanted to pick somewhere that is, in fact, a total armpit. Tottenham Court Road was just right. Yeah, so check out my 1337 prediction skillz.
Aaaaaaanyway, off they trot down Main Street UK. Here's how that's described:
They half walked, half ran up the wide, dark street thronged with late-night revellers and lined with closed shops, stars twinkling above them.
PLOT HOLEZ TIEM! Right, first of all, Tottenham Court Road is lined with electrical goods shops, many of which stay open, if not all night, then until very late. This, coupled with the heavy traffic (particularly in this pre-congestion charge age) and street lights found on all of central London's major roads, means that Tottenham Court Road is never dark. That brings us to my second point, which is what the fuck, no way would you be able to see the stars. Maybe maybe on a particularly clear night you'd be able to pick out one or two of the brightest ones. But no way are stars twinkling above. Finally, the street is pretty long - a ten or fifteen minute walk end to end when it's busy - and while one end has the Astoria, home to G-A-Y, perhaps London's most famous gay night, the other would be considerably less likely to be thronged with late-night revellers. (I'm willing to let this go as long as we can assume Hermione knew that, say, Steps were performing at G-A-Y that night and thought that would be a pretty badass place to hide out.) I can only conclude that JK Rowling has never been to Tottenham Court Road and Did Not Do The Research. I wouldn't mind so much if it weren't so glaring. If you don't know what a place is like well enough to describe it in detail, then make somewhere up, or use somewhere you are familiar with, or don't be specific - just say it's London (or Bristol or Manchester or how about Edinburgh, since you live there?) and don't give too many clues to the exact location. Sure, the Lexicon and FAP forums will wank themselves silly trying to find the exactly coordinates of the place our intrepid trio apparated to, but they'd be doing that anyway.
Gah. I know this totally doesn't matter, but it grates massively.
Anyway, they walk/run down this parallel universe version of Tottenham Court Road, eliciting stares and laughter from the surrounding morons who cannot fail to notice their goth clothes. (They should've apparated to Camden, you know.) I bet some hilarious bastard yells out, "I didn't know it was Halloween already!" which is the stock insult drunken types tend to offer (second only to "Fuckin' gothic!"). I once had that yelled at me on Halloween, which was particularly entertaining.
evil_underlord has just informed me that you sometimes can get away with goth clothes on Tottenham Court Road, on account of metal bands playing at the Astoria. So if Cradle of Filth/Dimmu Borgir/Cruciatus had been playing that night, they totally would've got away with looking like knobends. Oh well.
Hermione leads the way, eventually leading her boys off down a side street, where she reveals that her little handbag is, in fact, a Bag of Holding. I'd never heard of that before I read this, but I have been informed it's an item you can get in Dungeons and Dragons and suchlike, which allows you to carry a ton of crap around with you. So yeah, Hermione has one, and it contains, indeed, a ton of crap, including a tent and clothes and Harry's cloaking device and gazillions of books. She gives Harry his cloak and Ron some clothes. Ron starts stripping off right there in central London - hey, I know they're hiding down an alleyway, but still, I admire Ron for the ease with which he displays his body. He feels at one with his physical self, and has no qualms about getting stark bollock naked in public and in front of his friends. He puts on the jeans Hermione hands him, tucking his enormous penis down one leg, as Hermione explains how she had an emergency bag packed for days before the wedding, like when pregnant women keep a suitcase with their pyjamas and toothbrush in it right by the door. (Actually, I have no idea if that actually happens. I'm sure it does on TV or something. I don't know about these things - I don't have children, mainly because all children are afraid of me, and also because I'm afraid of children.)
They discuss the fact they can't go back to the Burrow, nor can they go to the Leaky Cauldron, and as they have no idea of what else to do, they just keep walking. Given the place and the era, they find themselves surrounded by lairy lager lads on all sides, who implore Hermione to abandon "ginger" and join them in a tipple. They appear to be a slightly better class of lairy lager lad than you get around here (or, indeed, in Plymouth, where I was living around the time this is going on), where they'd be exhorting Hermione to get her tits out for the lads. In order to be somewhere that isn't amongst the lairy lager lads and where they can chill for a while, they decide to hide out at a cantina all-night greasy spoon caff right here in Mos Eisley central London.
The greasy spoon caff is empty (and "shabby". JKR really loves that word in this book, doesn't she? In OotP, her favourite and most overused word was "peaky"), and they squeeze into a booth. Ron suggests going to the Leaky Cauldron, since it's only just up the road - not to stay there, but just to get some gossip. Hermione vetoes that - they already know that VOLDEMORT (remember that they said that out loud, kids - it'll be on the exam) has pulled a coup and taken over the ministry. The waitress, whose name is Wuher, arrives, and two cappuccinos are ordered (Harry's under his cloaking device and so doesn't get one). Two blatant death eaters, disguised as workmen, enter and sit in another booth. Hermione reckons they should apparate to the countryside and then contact the Order of the Phoenix using a funky talking patronus. Ron tastes the coffee and declares it bad. This part is no more or less dull than many other bits in the book, but as I attempt to recap and review and wank over it, I can feel my strength sapping away. I can't even be arsed to make an intelligent comment about Ron knowing his coffee or how the fact they're drinking tall skim cappuccino with lowfat whip and a biscotti feels a bit weird given that they only ever eat stew and treacle tart normally. Meh.
Hermione goes to pay for the shitty coffee, and the blatantly obvious death eaters draw their wands. Harry, with the reflexes of a ninja, whips his out too. Ron apparently takes "a few seconds" to realise what is going on and push Hermione's head down out of the way of the death eaters' spells - but I'd like you to stop for a moment and time, say, a three-second interval. I say it's more like a couple of milliseconds, or else Ron would be dead, his extensive knowledge of coffee gone with him. Anyway, invisible Harry stupefies one of the death eaters; the other guy ties Ron up with some kinky black ropes; Harry tries to stupefy the other guy too, but the spell ricochets off the window and hits the waitress; Hermione runs in with her lightsaber and - weeow, vroom, KKRRRRRKKKK! Aaaarrggghh! - chops off the death eater's arm; Harry picks up the first death eater, who is beginning to come around, and throws him over the bar, where he brings down a whole shelf of whisky bottles; Hermione smashes a chair over the armless death eater's head; and all the while the cantina band - those alien guys with asses for faces - keep on playing their weird, clarinet-type instruments. Ah, fuck this, here's the CCTV footage. (Possibly.)
Finally, they manage to get both the death eaters subdued. Hermione cuts Ron's ropes off, accidentally cutting his leg open in the process, and a shared understanding passes between them that they will do this again in future, in a kinky way. They lock the door and turn out the lights, and then agree not to kill the death eaters (they give a logical-ish reason, but really they can't kill them because a) they are the good guys and too pure and noble to do any killing, and b) they are n00bs anyway). Instead, they will wipe the death eaters' memories and tidy up, in order to cover their tracks. As I wanked about back in chapter six, Hermione claims she's never done a memory charm, even though she has. It's a moot point anyway, as she does it perfectly. Ron and Harry clean up; JK Rowling throws in a remark about Ron's penis being too big or something. While they sort everything out, they wank over how they were found so quickly, and what they should do now, and Harry insists they move on to Grimmauld Place, since the only enemy who can get in is Snape and if he does, Harry will totally cut him anyway. He argues Hermione down, so they put the lights back on, prop the waitress and the death eaters up, and fuck off.
They land right in a small (and "shabby") square, where they head right into number twelve. The lights turn on automatically, and they see that the umbrella stand has been knocked over - just like that time Tonks knocked it over, you remember that, it was fucking hilarious, you must remember, it was fucking great. Hermione deduces that someone must have been in the house. Of course, I don't think these guys have been here since mid-OotP, and we know the Order was using it as HQ, so it could've been knocked over ages ago, but of course we have to worry that maybe Snape's been in there or something. They are just discussing the lack of anti-Snape jinxes when they get hit by one, which makes their tongues curl up and then uncurl. Woh, I bet Snape will just DIE if he gets hit by that. Come on, Snape is a badass, he wouldn't give a shit about that. Then, a Zombie Dumbledore made of dust rises out of the carpet and comes right for them, groaning, "Brains.... braaaaaiiinsss..." which makes Hermione flip out and start screaming like a baby, which sets off Mrs Black's portrait ("Filth! Scum! Perverts! Gay werewolves!"), and Harry reacts like reggae artist Shaggy, bellowing, "It wasn't me!" and Zombie Dumbledore disappears. Phew, that was a close one! Some dust nearly got on the trio! It's lucky none of them is allergic to house dust, like I am, or we'd have been in real trouble. I might have had to lend Harry my inhaler, or even a tissue, to prevent disaster!
... For fuck's sake.
Hermione then casts a "Homenium revelio" spell, which does nothing. Ron offers her a Viagra, or at least makes a remark about her having just had a big shock. Duh, it wasn't supposed to do anything, stupid. There's nobody else there, so all is well. They head up to the drawing room, where Harry experiences a sudden pain in his scar and a psychic nosebleed or something. Voldemort is ANGRY MAN GONNA FUCK YOU UP! Ron and Hermione start on at Harry, all what did you see and I thought we agreed you were going to close your mind and by the way it's your fault Sirius died (although I'm glad that's been acknowledged at least), and Harry is pissed off and starts looking at the tapestry on the wall, examining the inbreeding, but right then, Art Weasley send a patronus that says everything is OK, so everyone relaxes. Ron and Hermione have a celebratory cuddle/boobgrope on the sofa, and Harry forgives Ron for snapping at him - after all, it's Ron's family, so Harry would feel the same way about his family if he had one. Then he remembers Ginny's tits and says that he does feel the same way. Not, say, the watch that Molly and Arthur gave him for his birthday, or the time Fred and George rescued him from the Dursleys', or the fact that the Weasleys let him stay at their place whenever, or all the food they give him, or that Molly considers him a son, or any of that shit, but Ginny's tits. (Note, I'm not saying this because I'm a massive Weasleys fan - although I rather like Arthur, and it's not like they all annoy me all of the time. I just think Harry is a total fuck for only realising he does feel the same way as Ron when he thinks about Ginny's tits, and not considering any of that other stuff.)
Harry's migraine is kicking off, so he runs to the bathroom just as Hermione is suggesting they all sleep together. (Not like that, although it would be way cooler if that was her meaning. "Ron, Harry, it's been a really awful night. Do you think we should have a threeway? I'm still worried about You-Know-Who, you know...") Anyway, Harry immediately starts having a vision of Voldemort effectively using Force-lightning on Rowle, one of the death eaters we met in the cantina earlier. He's forcing Harry's almost-boyfriend-once, Draco Malfoy, to torture Rowle, or Voldemort will torture Draco! Harry kicks himself. If only he'd had the balls to kiss Malfoy that time in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, instead of letting his fear take over and - ahem - slashing Malfoy instead. Maybe then, Harry and Draco would be boyfriends and Draco would be here right now and things would be the tiniest bit happier. But no, Harry bottled out that time, too afraid of what others would think - too afraid of the disapproval of a socially conservative wizarding society, a world where diversity is frowned upon. So he cut Malfoy instead, and later that day, made out with uber-BNF Ginny Weasley, and things were easy, but not necessarily right.
Then Hermione knocks on the door with Harry's toothbrush, bringing the chapter to an abrupt end. Whatever.
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HAN SOLO: Out of the frying pan into the fire, huh pal? How should I know we'd come outta hyperspace into the middle of an Imperial convoy. At least against these fighters we got more of a chance. However slim...
- Star Wars Holiday Special
Previously on the Deathly Hallows Uberwank show, Bill and Fleur got married, a variety of characters were wheeled on and off again, and then a Patronus showed up to let everyone know that YOU'RE ALL GONNA DIEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! so don't panic or anything.
We start up again right after that happens. Confusion reigns for a few moments, and then we spring into action; Harry angles the deflector shield while Hermione makes the calculations for the jump to light speed. Ron, with a Chewbacca-style roar, grabs Hermione's free hand and our intrepid trio (side note about "trio" - has anyone else noticed that loads of poncy, gastro-pub type restaurants have started offering trios of things on their menus? In recent months I've been offered both a trio of fish and a trio of sausages) disapparate, landing right in the middle of London, on Tottenham Court Road. Another side note: I got oddly excited on the first time I read this when I read "Tottenham Court Road", as that was what I named the main street area of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. There wasn't any significance to it, other than the fact it needed to sound all Britishish and Englandy but I wanted to pick somewhere that is, in fact, a total armpit. Tottenham Court Road was just right. Yeah, so check out my 1337 prediction skillz.
Aaaaaaanyway, off they trot down Main Street UK. Here's how that's described:
They half walked, half ran up the wide, dark street thronged with late-night revellers and lined with closed shops, stars twinkling above them.
PLOT HOLEZ TIEM! Right, first of all, Tottenham Court Road is lined with electrical goods shops, many of which stay open, if not all night, then until very late. This, coupled with the heavy traffic (particularly in this pre-congestion charge age) and street lights found on all of central London's major roads, means that Tottenham Court Road is never dark. That brings us to my second point, which is what the fuck, no way would you be able to see the stars. Maybe maybe on a particularly clear night you'd be able to pick out one or two of the brightest ones. But no way are stars twinkling above. Finally, the street is pretty long - a ten or fifteen minute walk end to end when it's busy - and while one end has the Astoria, home to G-A-Y, perhaps London's most famous gay night, the other would be considerably less likely to be thronged with late-night revellers. (I'm willing to let this go as long as we can assume Hermione knew that, say, Steps were performing at G-A-Y that night and thought that would be a pretty badass place to hide out.) I can only conclude that JK Rowling has never been to Tottenham Court Road and Did Not Do The Research. I wouldn't mind so much if it weren't so glaring. If you don't know what a place is like well enough to describe it in detail, then make somewhere up, or use somewhere you are familiar with, or don't be specific - just say it's London (or Bristol or Manchester or how about Edinburgh, since you live there?) and don't give too many clues to the exact location. Sure, the Lexicon and FAP forums will wank themselves silly trying to find the exactly coordinates of the place our intrepid trio apparated to, but they'd be doing that anyway.
Gah. I know this totally doesn't matter, but it grates massively.
Anyway, they walk/run down this parallel universe version of Tottenham Court Road, eliciting stares and laughter from the surrounding morons who cannot fail to notice their goth clothes. (They should've apparated to Camden, you know.) I bet some hilarious bastard yells out, "I didn't know it was Halloween already!" which is the stock insult drunken types tend to offer (second only to "Fuckin' gothic!"). I once had that yelled at me on Halloween, which was particularly entertaining.
evil_underlord has just informed me that you sometimes can get away with goth clothes on Tottenham Court Road, on account of metal bands playing at the Astoria. So if Cradle of Filth/Dimmu Borgir/Cruciatus had been playing that night, they totally would've got away with looking like knobends. Oh well.
Hermione leads the way, eventually leading her boys off down a side street, where she reveals that her little handbag is, in fact, a Bag of Holding. I'd never heard of that before I read this, but I have been informed it's an item you can get in Dungeons and Dragons and suchlike, which allows you to carry a ton of crap around with you. So yeah, Hermione has one, and it contains, indeed, a ton of crap, including a tent and clothes and Harry's cloaking device and gazillions of books. She gives Harry his cloak and Ron some clothes. Ron starts stripping off right there in central London - hey, I know they're hiding down an alleyway, but still, I admire Ron for the ease with which he displays his body. He feels at one with his physical self, and has no qualms about getting stark bollock naked in public and in front of his friends. He puts on the jeans Hermione hands him, tucking his enormous penis down one leg, as Hermione explains how she had an emergency bag packed for days before the wedding, like when pregnant women keep a suitcase with their pyjamas and toothbrush in it right by the door. (Actually, I have no idea if that actually happens. I'm sure it does on TV or something. I don't know about these things - I don't have children, mainly because all children are afraid of me, and also because I'm afraid of children.)
They discuss the fact they can't go back to the Burrow, nor can they go to the Leaky Cauldron, and as they have no idea of what else to do, they just keep walking. Given the place and the era, they find themselves surrounded by lairy lager lads on all sides, who implore Hermione to abandon "ginger" and join them in a tipple. They appear to be a slightly better class of lairy lager lad than you get around here (or, indeed, in Plymouth, where I was living around the time this is going on), where they'd be exhorting Hermione to get her tits out for the lads. In order to be somewhere that isn't amongst the lairy lager lads and where they can chill for a while, they decide to hide out at a cantina all-night greasy spoon caff right here in Mos Eisley central London.
The greasy spoon caff is empty (and "shabby". JKR really loves that word in this book, doesn't she? In OotP, her favourite and most overused word was "peaky"), and they squeeze into a booth. Ron suggests going to the Leaky Cauldron, since it's only just up the road - not to stay there, but just to get some gossip. Hermione vetoes that - they already know that VOLDEMORT (remember that they said that out loud, kids - it'll be on the exam) has pulled a coup and taken over the ministry. The waitress, whose name is Wuher, arrives, and two cappuccinos are ordered (Harry's under his cloaking device and so doesn't get one). Two blatant death eaters, disguised as workmen, enter and sit in another booth. Hermione reckons they should apparate to the countryside and then contact the Order of the Phoenix using a funky talking patronus. Ron tastes the coffee and declares it bad. This part is no more or less dull than many other bits in the book, but as I attempt to recap and review and wank over it, I can feel my strength sapping away. I can't even be arsed to make an intelligent comment about Ron knowing his coffee or how the fact they're drinking tall skim cappuccino with lowfat whip and a biscotti feels a bit weird given that they only ever eat stew and treacle tart normally. Meh.
Hermione goes to pay for the shitty coffee, and the blatantly obvious death eaters draw their wands. Harry, with the reflexes of a ninja, whips his out too. Ron apparently takes "a few seconds" to realise what is going on and push Hermione's head down out of the way of the death eaters' spells - but I'd like you to stop for a moment and time, say, a three-second interval. I say it's more like a couple of milliseconds, or else Ron would be dead, his extensive knowledge of coffee gone with him. Anyway, invisible Harry stupefies one of the death eaters; the other guy ties Ron up with some kinky black ropes; Harry tries to stupefy the other guy too, but the spell ricochets off the window and hits the waitress; Hermione runs in with her lightsaber and - weeow, vroom, KKRRRRRKKKK! Aaaarrggghh! - chops off the death eater's arm; Harry picks up the first death eater, who is beginning to come around, and throws him over the bar, where he brings down a whole shelf of whisky bottles; Hermione smashes a chair over the armless death eater's head; and all the while the cantina band - those alien guys with asses for faces - keep on playing their weird, clarinet-type instruments. Ah, fuck this, here's the CCTV footage. (Possibly.)
Click to viewFinally, they manage to get both the death eaters subdued. Hermione cuts Ron's ropes off, accidentally cutting his leg open in the process, and a shared understanding passes between them that they will do this again in future, in a kinky way. They lock the door and turn out the lights, and then agree not to kill the death eaters (they give a logical-ish reason, but really they can't kill them because a) they are the good guys and too pure and noble to do any killing, and b) they are n00bs anyway). Instead, they will wipe the death eaters' memories and tidy up, in order to cover their tracks. As I wanked about back in chapter six, Hermione claims she's never done a memory charm, even though she has. It's a moot point anyway, as she does it perfectly. Ron and Harry clean up; JK Rowling throws in a remark about Ron's penis being too big or something. While they sort everything out, they wank over how they were found so quickly, and what they should do now, and Harry insists they move on to Grimmauld Place, since the only enemy who can get in is Snape and if he does, Harry will totally cut him anyway. He argues Hermione down, so they put the lights back on, prop the waitress and the death eaters up, and fuck off.
They land right in a small (and "shabby") square, where they head right into number twelve. The lights turn on automatically, and they see that the umbrella stand has been knocked over - just like that time Tonks knocked it over, you remember that, it was fucking hilarious, you must remember, it was fucking great. Hermione deduces that someone must have been in the house. Of course, I don't think these guys have been here since mid-OotP, and we know the Order was using it as HQ, so it could've been knocked over ages ago, but of course we have to worry that maybe Snape's been in there or something. They are just discussing the lack of anti-Snape jinxes when they get hit by one, which makes their tongues curl up and then uncurl. Woh, I bet Snape will just DIE if he gets hit by that. Come on, Snape is a badass, he wouldn't give a shit about that. Then, a Zombie Dumbledore made of dust rises out of the carpet and comes right for them, groaning, "Brains.... braaaaaiiinsss..." which makes Hermione flip out and start screaming like a baby, which sets off Mrs Black's portrait ("Filth! Scum! Perverts! Gay werewolves!"), and Harry reacts like reggae artist Shaggy, bellowing, "It wasn't me!" and Zombie Dumbledore disappears. Phew, that was a close one! Some dust nearly got on the trio! It's lucky none of them is allergic to house dust, like I am, or we'd have been in real trouble. I might have had to lend Harry my inhaler, or even a tissue, to prevent disaster!
... For fuck's sake.
Hermione then casts a "Homenium revelio" spell, which does nothing. Ron offers her a Viagra, or at least makes a remark about her having just had a big shock. Duh, it wasn't supposed to do anything, stupid. There's nobody else there, so all is well. They head up to the drawing room, where Harry experiences a sudden pain in his scar and a psychic nosebleed or something. Voldemort is ANGRY MAN GONNA FUCK YOU UP! Ron and Hermione start on at Harry, all what did you see and I thought we agreed you were going to close your mind and by the way it's your fault Sirius died (although I'm glad that's been acknowledged at least), and Harry is pissed off and starts looking at the tapestry on the wall, examining the inbreeding, but right then, Art Weasley send a patronus that says everything is OK, so everyone relaxes. Ron and Hermione have a celebratory cuddle/boobgrope on the sofa, and Harry forgives Ron for snapping at him - after all, it's Ron's family, so Harry would feel the same way about his family if he had one. Then he remembers Ginny's tits and says that he does feel the same way. Not, say, the watch that Molly and Arthur gave him for his birthday, or the time Fred and George rescued him from the Dursleys', or the fact that the Weasleys let him stay at their place whenever, or all the food they give him, or that Molly considers him a son, or any of that shit, but Ginny's tits. (Note, I'm not saying this because I'm a massive Weasleys fan - although I rather like Arthur, and it's not like they all annoy me all of the time. I just think Harry is a total fuck for only realising he does feel the same way as Ron when he thinks about Ginny's tits, and not considering any of that other stuff.)
Harry's migraine is kicking off, so he runs to the bathroom just as Hermione is suggesting they all sleep together. (Not like that, although it would be way cooler if that was her meaning. "Ron, Harry, it's been a really awful night. Do you think we should have a threeway? I'm still worried about You-Know-Who, you know...") Anyway, Harry immediately starts having a vision of Voldemort effectively using Force-lightning on Rowle, one of the death eaters we met in the cantina earlier. He's forcing Harry's almost-boyfriend-once, Draco Malfoy, to torture Rowle, or Voldemort will torture Draco! Harry kicks himself. If only he'd had the balls to kiss Malfoy that time in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, instead of letting his fear take over and - ahem - slashing Malfoy instead. Maybe then, Harry and Draco would be boyfriends and Draco would be here right now and things would be the tiniest bit happier. But no, Harry bottled out that time, too afraid of what others would think - too afraid of the disapproval of a socially conservative wizarding society, a world where diversity is frowned upon. So he cut Malfoy instead, and later that day, made out with uber-BNF Ginny Weasley, and things were easy, but not necessarily right.
Then Hermione knocks on the door with Harry's toothbrush, bringing the chapter to an abrupt end. Whatever.
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