Your Princess Name is

Nathan the Misunderstood, Princess of Archirind

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Your Smurf Name is

Nasty Smurf

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Your Turkey Name is

Crackers Prance-A-Lot

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Christmas Stocking



This year in your Christmas stocking you will get :

A Song Written For You

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Harry Potter amd the Deathly Hallows was awesome.

I challenge anyone who thought it was less then substancial.

1 - Godric’s Hollow - 1

The Dursley’s of Number four Privet Drive were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, as they simply did not suffer such nonsense. That is, until six years ago.
Since then the neighbours of Vernon and Petunia Dursley had quite a bit to say about their neighbours and the two young men whom lived with them; the fat one was their son. Everyone knew him because he had bullied all the other children in the district over the period of his life in Privet Drive. These days he was always driving around the streets like a complete and utter maniac in the new car his parents had bought him to celebrate that he had gotten his driver’s licence. And then there was the skinny one whom they never heard nor saw. Everyone knew he was there and all understood that their children should stay right away from him. There was something wrong with him, something in his head. Something off-balanced.
In six years the neighbours of Vernon and Petunia Dursley had endured the sounds of one or two loud explosions, a lot of screaming on different occasions. A woman and her husband seemingly furious over what appeared to be a large amount of dessert dumped over the ladies head. On one occasion Mr Dursley woke them up with the sounds of him crashing out of the window in the early hours of the morning, from one of the second story rooms. And that’s before you consider the time they had boarded themselves in their own house when a flock of owls had decided to invade. Shortly after that they’d disappeared for a week without warning. No, the Dursley’s were possibly the strangest family in the district, even more so then the creepy old woman whom lived a street over with nobody but her cats.
This morning though, you would not have noticed how strange they were. The external of the house was as immaculate as always. Mr Dursley had just bought a new car, which he had done every couple of years to keep up appearances. And he was dressed rather smartly in the same suit and tie he wore every single day. His wife kissed him good-bye at the door as she did everyday, and Vernon Dursley got into his car, backed carefully out of the drive, and proceeded to drive down Privet Drive.
As he turned out of the street, he looked in his rear-vision mirror to see the corner where a Tabby cat was sitting reading the sign. He did a double-take of this, there was no cat. And even if there were, it would not – could not – be reading the sign. He found himself having to tell himself this more often then not anymore.
As he drove he found himself humming to a tune that he had played over and over in his cars tape-deck as none of the local radio’s played anything worth listening to these days. He knew his son liked the music played on the radio, though it was all rubbish as far as Vernon Dursley was concerned.
As he proceeded through the residential areas and came into the commercial centre of the town in which Mr Dursley worked he came across a site he had not seen in nearly seventeen years. People dressed in cloaks; swarms of them. Mr Dursley watched a group of them with such intense concentration that the car behind him had rudely honked to him when he had failed to notice the red traffic light he was waiting at; had turned green.
As he continued on his way he came to see more and more of them, though there was a distinct difference to this lot over the ones he had seen so many years before. These ones were in much darker colours and not one among them looked to be nearly as happy. He knew these two differences for the fact that he almost accepted the clothing, and a couple of them could even possibly be wearing normal overcoats, like the kind Petunia made him wear on chilly winter mornings. As for their being unhappy. That much he knew because he had never seen a larger group of people look so dismal. He wondered briefly after the health of the Royal family, when he realised there had been no reports of ill-health lately, he began to get curious, a fact that never really suited Vernon Dursley.
When he arrived at work he moved from his car towards the building in which he spent most hours of the day. He even saw one of the littlest men he’d seen in his life walk towards him. He was sure to give this little man a wide birth, and did not say a word to him. Though it did not appear that the little man was in any mood for talking. Vernon even thought he saw a tear streaking the little mans face. Upon closer inspection it was apparent he was crying.
Mr Dursley shrugged this off, a man that age should not be crying, not in public at any rate. He pushed through the glass door at the entrance of his building and made for his office. The mood in the building did not seem to improve on the mood outside. People seemed all around unhappy. Upon asking one of his employees, as if he cared, he was shrugged off and informed that it was just an unhappy day.
Vernon Dursley was not satisfied with this answer and barked at his secretary to bring him all the important News Papers for that day, sure that a little investigating might not go astray. Upon receiving these papers he locked himself in his office and asked not to be disturbed.
By lunchtime he had poured through every paper sure that there must be something. There was a lot going on in the country at the moment. A lot of nasty accidents but nothing Vernon did not already know about. Just the other week the Priminister himself was dismissed when he told the world in a public announcement that he knew there was a perfectly good reason for all the horrible things that had occurred in the past twelve months, and that he couldn’t tell them as they would not believe him. He was dragged from parliament house kicking and shouting that none of it was his fault. His family had him committed shortly after choosing not to comment on reports that the Primister blamed magicians for the downfall of his office. The political propaganda that littered the papers since then was very amusing. Amusing to anyone who was not Vernon Dursley.
Walking across the street at lunchtime he saw more and more of these people in cloaks. They seemed to huddle together in miserable little packs and not one of them greeted him as he passed … not that he’d have liked it otherwise. He went to the bakery, as was the norm, and passed a group sitting on the grass in a park. He was horrified to see that they were all holding hands. Was this some kind of religious group? He eavesdropped; something he never liked, and nosey people were unwelcome people, though by now he had decided he didn’t like not being included.
“Let us all take a moments silence for Dumbledore, the greatest of our time”
The group bowed their head and fell silent. Mr Dursley thought for a moment and then resolved with a grunt. It meant very little to him. He wasn’t even sure if that rude old man he met last summer was really named Dumbledore, it could have been Puddlemore, Grumblefour or something else ridiculous.
He turned into the bakery and made for the service desk, he decided he wanted to get back to his office as soon as possible.
“Potter was there as well,”
The name he least wished to hear sounded by a pack of the weirdo’s standing by the refrigerator seemingly waiting for something.
“Harry Potter? And they still got Dumbledore?”
“Dumbledore’s always been able to hold his own, if Dumbledore is dead, it’s something of a miracle that Harry Potter is still alive,”
“Harry Potter can’t be killed, everybody knows that”
“That poor boy, what a title to live up to,”
Mr Dursley dropped his money on the counter and snatched the little paper bag out of the hand of the attendant and did not even wait for his change before he retreated from the store. Waddling quickly back across the road he came past another group of the miserable cloaked people.
“I’m not sending my boy back to Hogwarts next year, my husband and I are going to pick him up this afternoon,”
“My Harold and I are doing the same thing, our daughters will stay home next year, Hogwarts is no safe haven for anyone,”
“What about Harry Potter, you know they say he lives with Muggles? He can’t be safe there,”
Mr Dursley sped his pace and marched back into his office humming that familiar tune from his car all the way to his office. Where he locked himself in and ignored the rest of the day.
By the time he was pulling into his driveway that night, Vernon Dursley wondered whether he might mention the incident to his wife. Petunia and he had the silent understanding that they’d not discuss Harry’s school ever. Though he wasn’t sure if this meant something significant had happened. It seemed almost certain, but how exactly could it affect him. He remembered asking himself this question sixteen years ago, and so groaned when he climbed from his car to walk the path to his front door.
When he approached the door Petunia was already standing in the doorway with a look on her face that registered alarm. Something was wrong, though in the same token Mr Dursley was sure he already half knew what it was.
“The boy,” was all he said, and the look on his wife’s face confirmed his fears. Further to his displeasure was the news that not only was his nephew coming home from that school of his early, but he would have to suffer the vast discomfort of learning that his nephew would be bringing two of his kind with him and that he had no say in the matter
.
*

“Nitwit Blubber Oddment Tweak” sweat was beading on the pale brow of a boy whom would reach his seventeenth birthday in just a few moments time. Harry Potter turned in his sleep as the words tumbled from his lips and the irregular squinting appearing on his face in constant intervals would have told any watching him that he was having a nightmare. And in fact he was.
“Snape. No!” Harry howled before sitting bolt upright in bed. His scar was burning as it did more often then not since the end of his previous school year. He knew Voldemort must be writhing in joy with the news of Dumbledore’s demise and as such had no reason to hide such joy from Harry whom would suffer for it. Harry reached for a cloth soaking in a bowl of fluorescent goo on his bedside table. He draped the cloth across his forehead and lay backward onto his pillow. He waited mere seconds before the concoction began to work and his head was perfectly numbed.
This was a regular occurrence, and he could not shake the dreams followed by splitting headaches no matter what he tried. Not once had he managed a full nights sleep in two weeks and the pain was beginning to wear on him, he was tired almost all the time and had next to no energy.
There was a shuffled sound of someone moving in their sleep to the far corner of his room. This was followed by a familiar voice, tired yet concerned.
“Harry?” it was Hermione, she and Ron had come to the Dursley’s with him as they’d said they would. Though the Dursley’s had not liked the idea, they had grudgingly allowed it. Especially after Harry had told them that Ron and Hermione were both already of age, and that should they like to, they could persuade the Dursley’s through other means.
Harry didn’t move when he heard this, he did not want to cause his two loyal friends to lose sleep over something that did not have to affect them.
“I can see the Polaglacialis Harry, are you awake?” Hermione pressed from her make shift bed on the floor.
“I’m fine, go back to sleep” Harry told her through clenched teeth trying not to wake Ron whom was between the two of them in the centre of the room.
“Harry?” Ron’s tired voice mumbled as his silhouette moved on his own makeshift bed.
“Go back to sleep” Harry hissed knowing that if they all started talking, the next voice they’d hear would be one very angry Uncle Vernon. It was hard enough living with him, knowing that he didn’t have to come the following day, without having to have to face him in the last minutes before freedom fell.
“He’s had another nightmare,” Hermione said moving to rise from her bed. Harry closed his eyes in frustration; for once he just wanted Hermione to stop mothering him.
“Are you ok, Harry?” Ron rose as well moving across the floor to scrambling for his wand, “Lumos”
“Ouch, Ron, that’s bright,” Harry hissed at his friend as he clenched his eyes tighter. It took a moment; though once he had adjusted he could see both of his friends looking down on him worried, “Ron, cut that out, use the lamp,”
“Sorry,” Ron mumbled and suddenly the room was plunged into darkness once more. There was a brief moment of stumbling and then a crash, as it seemed Ron finally found the lamp and knocked it on the ground.
“Wawazzat!” a shout was heard from the next room over and Harry knew at once the breaking lamp had signalled his uncle.
The three of them held their breath’s as Harry rose from his laying position, the damp clothe slipped from his forehead as he did so. He sat poised in silence; Hermione remained on the spot she was in, not moving, looking to not even be breathing. Harry’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see Ron had toppled over onto the bedside desk and was holding what looked to be an extremely uncomfortable position.
Moments passed without another sound, though just when all seemed to be fine, sharp footsteps crossed the room next to Harry’s and a bedroom door swung open. Harry quickly lay back down on his bed after stashing the bowl of glowing Polaglacialis under his bed. Hermione made a crash dive for her own bed, as did Ron. Surprisingly, they were all quite silent about their actions.
The bedroom door opened with a sharp bang and the light glared sharply. Uncle Vernon’s bulbous eyes scanned the room with a sneer though Harry and his two friends remained apparently sound asleep. Uncle Vernon remained in the doorway a little longer then Harry would normally be comfortable with. He even closed it once only to wait a brief moment and swing it open again just in case. Having done that and decidedly depraving himself of enough sleep, he closed the door again.
Harry listened with bated breath as Uncle Vernon returned to his bed. Harry silently mused at what Uncle Vernon would have thought if he had looked in on Dudley’s bedroom. Harry had heard the great oaf sneak out almost immediately after Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had gone to sleep, he did it almost every night now.
“Coasts clear,” Hermione whispered as she rose from the bed again. She tapped her wand on the broken pieces and almost at once the lamp was shining though a little dimmer then it would normally. Without a word Hermione glanced at the curtains and they closed blocking in all light. She had become quite apt at non-verbal spells since she had come of age.
“What time is it?” Ron spoke sitting up in his bed, his hair had become rather untamed throughout the beginning of summer, he had not cut it in quite a while and now had a rather proud main, at the moment though it was tangled and messy. His voice however sounded a lot more alert then before, “Blimey, the man’s psychotic”
“It’s nearly midnight,” Harry told them both as he reached under the bed and reapplied the clothe with a liberal amount of Polaglacialis.
“It is midnight,” Hermione announced looking at her wrist watch, “In three… two… one Happy Birthday Harry!” she smiled, looking oddly comical with her hair bunched together in a bun to stop it from being anymore unmanageable while she slept.
“Thanks,” Harry returned her smile though it was with some effort, the Polaglacialis was taking its time and his scar was still quite painful.
“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” Hermione said to him perceptively. Harry had to stop himself from giving her a look that would have offended her intelligence.
“Just a bit,” he said to her, managing to betray only a small amount of sarcasm.
“You’re using Occlumency aren’t you Harry?” she said to him imploringly. He would have been insulted this time, if the answer had been true.
“Of course,” he lied. He tried to focus and shield his mind as he had been tirelessly practicing since the beginning of the holidays, though he often found it difficult to maintain and in some cases it was easier to put up with the pain.
Hermione was not as easily fooled as he would have liked her to be though and gave him a look that insulted his honesty. As Harry’s focus came back he felt the pain in his forehead subside and was relieved by it. Likewise he was unsure as to whether this was a result of employing Occlumency or whether the Polaglacialis had merely kicked in.
With the renewed comfort of calmness about him, Harry felt himself growing drowsy very quickly. And not catching whatever Hermione was saying now; he drifted back to sleep.

Later on that morning the three of them rose late; having fallen asleep after the early morning activities they’d all slept longer then usual. Hermione was the first to wake of course and had politely remained in her cot reading a book she did not have the previous day. The pack of owl treats lay empty on the bedside cabinet and Harry understood that mail must have already come that morning. He opened his eyes to look towards the dresser on the far side of the room. It was laden with gifts wrapped in brightly coloured packaging and sparkling ribbons. This was definitely the most he had ever received for any of his birthdays.
He sat up in bed and Hermione looked at him and smiled, she tapped her ears and Harry felt at his own ears. He had a pair of mandrake earmuffs on. He removed them.
“I didn’t want them to wake you so...” she left it hanging. He placed the Mandrake Earmuffs on the bedside cabinet and moved carefully out of bed. Ron was still snoring loudly so he moved towards his friend and pinched his nose shut. Ron snorted and woke with a start, “Whodat!!”
Harry shushed him and smiled, Ron threw him an ‘its-too-early-to-be-playing-stupid-games’ look.
“Its ok Harry, your uncle and aunt are out, I think they found out Dudley wasn’t in his room this morning,” Hermione told him throwing a glance at the pile of gifts, “The red one’s from me, open it first,”
Harry grinned and moved towards the pile greedily, ripping open the red package with anticipation to find a book, that was no surprise, he tried not to look crestfallen, “Thanks Hermione,” he smiled at her.
“Open it,” she grinned having picked up his hesitation. He pulled the cover back then flipped through the first couple of pages and gasped.
“Dark detectors” she smiled moving across to his dresser, “Each page holds a secret compartment for a different dark detector, everything you’d ever need and its all concealed in this book so you can take it with you anywhere and have everything you need, it’s Ministry approved of course; Mad-Eye Moody has all of this stuff”
“This is awesome,” he smiled in awe as he flipped through the pages, sneakoscopes, and a hand held foe-glass, even some of Fred and Georges hex rebounders.
“There’s even a compartment in the back of the book for your invisibility cloak,” Hermione grinned seemingly satisfied with his reaction this time, “And the best part is, only you can open it,”
“This is fantastic,” Harry kept flipping through the pages, this was so like Hermione to give him a book, but one that could do more then it normally should.
“I thought you might like it,” she smiled watching him a moment longer.
“This is from me,” Ron pushed a much larger box towards Harry; he pulled it open to find an ornately designed chest with several locks on it. He ran his fingers across the locks and one by one they unlatched and the chest swung wide. It was a veritable chest of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezers products. Countless in their numbers there were simple jokes to the higher priced things Harry had seen the previous year, even some he hadn’t.
“I know you could have gotten all the stuff inside for free anyway, but the chest was the main gift, watch what happens if Hermione tries to open it,” Ron snickered.
“I most certainly will not,” she glared at him. Harry grinned.
The rest of the packages were opened with as much awe as the first. Mr and Mrs Weasley had given Harry a wristwatch similar to Ron’s. Fred and George had given Harry the most shocking looking dragon hide coat that apparently rebounded stronger spells then the charms they were selling in their store. Moody had sent an array of dark detectors Harry had not seen in his book from Hermione. Tonks had sent Harry an Auror Study Guide. And Lupin had sent Harry a suspicious looking box that rattled if you moved near it. Attached to it was a little note that said “Dumbledore’s Army” Harry grinned. He also received a mass of random gifts of lollies, chocolate frogs, pumpkin pasties and Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans from people at school and what looked like the first of a yearly subscription to The Quibbler from Luna Lovegood.
“Is that a Boggart,” Hermione said nervously looking at the shaking box.
“Who’d send you a Boggart?” Ron looked outraged.
“Lupin did, it’s for the DA” he smiled. Ron and Hermione quickly shared this sentiment.
“Was there something from Hagrid?” Hermione said as her eyes scanned the hoard of birthday gifts. Harry did the same thing and was surprised to see she was right. There was nothing from Hagrid.
“That’s strange,” Harry muttered, more surprised then anything else.
“I’m sure there’s a good reason,” Ron looked intentently, “Come on Hermione, open the chest-”
“No-”
“I’m not a child anymore, you have to stop treating me like one” the muffled shouting of Dudley rose up the staircase into Harry’s room. A door slammed downstairs followed by the booming voice of Uncle Vernon yelling.
“You watch your mouth young man, you’re never too old to go over my knee,” Uncle Vernon shouted back.
“Stop yelling, both of you, what would the neighbours think,” Aunt Petunia’s voice followed.
“I’m not a child anymore mum, he cant stop me from going out at night, I’m on holidays, I should be allowed to do whatever I want,” Dudley howled back at his parents.
“As long as you live under this roof my boy you will abide by my rules, my house, my word is law,” Uncle Vernon shouted back at his bulky son.
True to his beliefs his whole life, Harry had watch Dudley grow into one of the largest young adults he’d ever seen. He was no longer so much fat as he was solid and much larger then his own father and he towered over his mother.
“Well maybe I don’t want to live in this stupid house with that freak and his weirdo friends anymore anyway,” Dudley shouted before stampeding up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door behind him.
Harry was in too much of a good mood to hold back laughter, Hermione and Ron joined in.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia whom must have thought shouting at Harry might win their son over again stampeded up the staircase after Dudley and swung Harry’s door wide to glare at his insolence.
“How dare you-” Uncle Vernon started.
“No,” Harry cut in standing up. This was the day he had been hoping for his entire life, the day when he could perform magic in front of his Aunt and Uncle without having to worry about consequences, “How dare you”
Hermione and Ron stood at either side of him looking at his bony little aunt whom had done nothing but get even bonier in the last seven years. And his bulky looking uncle whose proud black hair and moustache had gone grey and whose solid shoulders had begun to droop over the last seven years. Suddenly neither of these two muggles, whom had made his life hell from the moment he could remember being in their home; two muggles whom had never loved him or cared for him the way family should; finally; these two did not look so impending and finally Harry could tell them exactly what he thought of them.
“How dare you treat me like you do, how dare you lock me in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years of my life, how dare you treat me like a servant, and how dare you think you did me a favour by letting me live here,” Harry was glaring at them, his head was feeling very hot and his hair began to flicker as if there were a breeze rising in the littlest room of Number Four Privet Drive.
“Now you just wait a minute-”
“No!” Harry shouted whipping out his wand. Aunt Petunia suddenly clutched onto her husband and Harry noticed Dudley was looking from his bedroom door, “I’m of age now, there’s nothing you can do to stop me from turning you into the slime you are!”
Dudley was grinning from where he was standing, though Aunt Petunia was shaking and Uncle Vernon had turned as pale as the walls.
Harry flicked his wand and all of his possessions sprung to life, like the solar system Harry’s possessions orbited around him and his friends moving faster and faster as they did. For theatrical affect a few of his schoolbooks opened and fluttered quickly through the pages sparks shot from page to page as they did this. “You don’t like me? Well I don’t like you!” The pictures on his wall detached themselves until everything in the room that he wished to keep was now flying around the room as if a cyclone was forming within it. “You don’t want to see me ever again?” There was a great flash and all of his belongings zoomed into his school chest. The rest that wouldn’t fit piled itself neatly on top of the trunk.
“I never want to see you again,” Harry weaved the most elaborate wand movement he had in some time and chanted “Archatransfero!” his chest and the contents atop it disappeared with a loud cracking sound.
Harry turned to look at the Dursley’s one last time, he would never see them again, and he could not be happier. He smiled at that thought and disappeared with a pop, Hermione and Ron right behind him.


((Is this how it would begin? I doubt it, but this is the fanfic i am writing while i wait for the real thing))

Thought this was so funny, I had to share it =)

Original Story Found Here: http://news.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=263297

Japanese fooled in poodle scam
Thursday Apr 26 20:55 AEST
Thousands of Japanese have been swindled in a scam in which they were sold Australian and British sheep and told they were poodles.

Flocks of sheep were imported to Japan and then sold by a company called Poodles as Pets, marketed as fashionable accessories, available at $1,600 each.

That is a snip compared to a real poodle which retails for twice that much in Japan.

The scam was uncovered when Japanese moviestar Maiko Kawamaki went on a talk-show and wondered why her new pet would not bark or eat dog food.




She was crestfallen when told it was a sheep.

Then hundreds of other women got in touch with police to say they feared their new "poodle" was also a sheep.

One couple said they became suspicious when they took their "dog" to have its claws trimmed and were told it had hooves.

Japanese police believe there could be 2,000 people affected by the scam, which operated in Sapporo and capitalised on the fact that sheep are rare in Japan, so many do not know what they look like.

"We launched an investigation after we were made aware that a company were selling sheep as poodles," Japanese police said, the The Sun reported.

"Sadly we think there is more than one company operating in this way.

"The sheep are believed to have been imported from overseas - Britain, Australia."

Many of the sheep have now been donated to zoos and farms.

Your results:
You are Superman

Superman 90% Iron Man 80% Hulk 60% Supergirl 55% Green Lantern 55% Wonder Woman 50% Spider-Man 45% Robin 45% The Flash 40% Catwoman 40% Batman 35%

You are mild-mannered, good, strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test

OMG LOOK XDXDXDXDXD !!!!

http://www.mooncup.co.uk/menstrual_cup_how_to_use.html

Ha ha HA

Anyway, so I found this on You Tube:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=OkXH7hBbDI0

Odd yeah? Tempted... but not that much, but I will tell people about it XD

The same whacky syblings that brought you the PotterPuppetPals!

http://ic1.deviantart.com/fs10/f/2006/103/4/a/HarryPotterAparateToilet2.swf

Funny Funny!

i think the curse on his hand was terminal, and that snape was keeping him alive with his little stopper in death potion, i think they both knew it wouldnt work forever and so dumbledore had to train harry and if possible find the horcrux in the cave. I think dumbledore called for snape cos snape knew this and would be able to finish dumbledore off to ensure his apparent loyalty to voldemort

I think Dumbledore had a Horcrux. I have been re-reading book six looking for clues, and he mentions that he knows other qizrds have created horcruxes though he does not know of anyone other then Voldemort who has made more then one. I think then, I believe. On a whim I know... but I believe when Dumbledore destroyed Grindalwald, he created a Horcrux. I wonder if the Horcrux is Harry's invisibility cloak...

Sorry You're Locked Out!