Reminiscing the Joy of Fiction

Daily Prompt: From the Gut.

For today’s daily prompt, we are to write about a recent incident when we had a hearty laugh. Instead I chose to recall a few moments from some of my favorite novels that made me chuckle. Have a look.

#1. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

“Show yourself!” Snape said, tapping the map sharply.

It stayed blank. Harry was taking deep, calming breaths.

“Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!” Snape said, hitting the map

with his wand.

As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map.

“Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.”

Snape froze. Harry stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn’t stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first.

Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git.

It would have been very funny if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

And there was more. . . .

“Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor.”

Harry closed his eyes in horror. When he’d opened them, the map had had its last word.

“Mr. Wormtail bids, Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slime ball.”

Harry waited for the blow to fall.

“So . . . ,” said Snape softly. “We’ll see about this. . . .”

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

#2 The trio visit Fred and George’s Store

“That’s three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut,” said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron’s arms. “Cough up.”

“I’m your brother!”

“And that’s our stuff you’re nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I’ll knock off the Knut.”

“But I haven’t got three Galleons, nine Sickles!”

“You’d better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves.”

Ron dropped several boxes, swore, and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Mrs. Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear.

“If I see you do that again I’ll jinx your fingers together,” she said sharply.

#3. The muggle Prime Minister meets the Minister of Magic

It was precisely this sort of behavior that made him dislike Fudge’s visits so much. He was, after all, the Prime Minister and did not appreciate being made to feel like an ignorant schoolboy. But of course, it had been like this from his very first meeting with Fudge on his very first evening as Prime Minister. He remembered it as though it were yesterday and knew it would haunt him until his dying day.

He had been standing alone in this very office, savoring the triumph that was his after so many years of dreaming and scheming, when he had heard a cough behind him, just like tonight, and turned to find that ugly little portraittalking to him, announcing that the Minister of Magic was about to arrive and introduce himself

Naturally, he had thought that the long campaign and the strain of the election had caused him to go mad. He had been utterly terrified to find a portrait talking to him, though this had been nothing to how he felt when a self-proclaimed wizard had bounced out of the fireplace and shaken his hand. He had remained speechless throughout Fudge’s kindly explanation that there were witches and wizards still living in secret all over the world and his reassurances that he was not to bother his head about them as the Ministry of Magic took responsibility for the whole Wizarding community and prevented the non-magical population from getting wind of them. It was, said Fudge, a difficult job that encompassed everything from regulations on responsible use of broomsticks to keeping the dragon population under control (the Prime Minister remembered clutching the desk for support at this point). Fudge had then patted the shoulder of the still-dumbstruck Prime Minister in a fatherly sort of way.

“Not to worry,” he had said, “it’s odds-on you’ll never see me again. I’ll only bother you if there’s something really serious going on our end, something that’s likely to affect the Muggles–the non-magical population, I should say. Otherwise, it’s live and let live. And I must say, you’re taking it a lot better than your predecessor. He tried to throw me out the window, thought I was a hoax planned by the opposition.”

At this, the Prime Minister had found his voice at last. “You’re–you’re not a hoax, then?”

It had been his last, desperate hope.

“No,” said Fudge gently. “No, I’m afraid I’m not. Look.”

And he had turned the Prime Minister’s teacup into a gerbil.

“But,” said the Prime Minister breathlessly, watching his teacup chewing on the corner of his next speech, “but why–why has nobody told me–?”

“The Minister of Magic only reveals him–or herself to the Muggle Prime Minister of the day,” said Fudge, poking his wand back inside his jacket. “We find it the best way to maintain secrecy.”

“But then,” bleated the Prime Minister, “why hasn’t a former Prime Minister warned me–?”

At this, Fudge had actually laughed.

“My dear Prime Minister, are you ever going to tell anybody?”

#4. Slughorn’s Christmas Party

“But I don’t think I’ve ever known such a natural at Potions!” said Slughorn, regarding Harry with a fond, if bloodshot, eye. “Instinctive, you know — like his mother! I’ve only ever taught a few with this kind of ability, I can tell you that, Sybill-why even Severus —” And to Harry’s horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them. “Stop skulking and come and join us, Severus!” hiccuped Slughorn happily. “I was just talking about Harry’s exceptional po-tion-making! Some credit must go to you, of course, you taught him for five years!”

Trapped, with Slughorns arm around his shoulders, Snape looked down his hooked nose at Harry, his black eyes narrowed. “Funny, I never had the impression that I managed to teach Potter anything at all.”

#5 I’ve Got your Number

“We’re playing Scrabble. It’s a nightmare.”

“Scrabble?” He sounds surprised.

“Scrabble’s great.”

“Not when you are playing with a family of geniuses. They all put words like iridium. And I put pig.”

#6. Can you keep a Secret?

A girl after getting drunk on a flight divulges every secret of her life in front of a complete stranger who later turns out to be her boss. Given below are some of his questions/remarks when he meets her in the office and the secrets that she had disclosed on the flight.

“How’s the coffee?”he asks pleasantly. “Tasty?”

(“The coffee at work is the most disgusting stuff you’ve ever drunk, absolute poison.”)

“That’s a big desk you’ve got there Artemis.”

(“The new desk just arrived and she just took it.”)

I told him about faking the A grade on my CV.

“Why not say we were discussing logistics? “he raised his eyebrow and closed the door behind me.

(“I still don’t know what the word logistics means.”)

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Author: Palak

A young woman who is busy carving a small niche for herself in this huge world. People intrigue me and had it not been for a career charted out in finance I could have made one helluva psychologist. I am fond of reading fiction and equally fond of holding on to a story for a while so as to analyze the way it shaped up. Television, movies and slow music are some of my other interests. I am an obsessive thinker and observer and being an absolute coffee addict and semi-somniac leaves me with ample of time to be one. This blog is an attempt to take note of some of the thoughts that cross my mind and a few of my experiences.

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