MTLNOVEL Chapter 72: Chapter 71
PT Deadpool was on fire. And not in the "he's going to need a fire extinguisher" kind of way, more like in the "if this were a Broadway show, he'd be getting a Tony Award for Best Over-the-Top Performance" way. He threw his arms wide as he led Team Black into the circus tent, his voice booming out with all the enthusiasm of a man who had watched The Greatest Showman one too many times.
"Step right up! Step right up!" he cried, his words echoing through the tent, a grin plastered on his face. His top hat was so large it could've housed a small family, his bow tie was so big it probably had its own zip code, and the mustache? Oh, the mustache. It looked like something a Victorian villain would twirl as he laughed maniacally in a dungeon.
Deadpool wasn't just walking—he was performing. And when he spun his magical staff-turned-cane, Jim (yes, Jim, who was having the time of his life), it was with all the finesse of a magician unveiling the world's most ridiculous trick.
"And now, my friends," Deadpool shouted, "prepare to be amazed! Astounded! Bewildered! And possibly traumatized! BEHOLD—the Jazz Monkeys!"
Yes. Jazz monkeys.
A small army of primates, all decked out in little tuxedos and tiny bowties, walked onto the stage, each one carrying an instrument. The saxophone player looked like he'd been born with it in hand, the drummer was tapping out rhythms like he'd been on a monkey-sized caffeine binge, and the trumpet player? Well, let's just say there was no way he'd been given any sort of formal training. But did it matter? No, it did not. Not with Deadpool standing there, practically salivating at the thought of how utterly absurd this moment was.
The band began to play. It was jazz. But like, weird jazz. The kind of jazz that, if it had a personality, would probably be wearing sunglasses at night and sipping coffee like it was a cocktail.
"Is this... happening?" Neville Longbottom asked, his eyes wide, like he couldn't quite decide whether to laugh or cry at what he was witnessing. He settled on a grin, because, well, jazz monkeys.
"Totally," Ginny Weasley said, swaying to the rhythm like she had no intention of questioning reality today. She threw a wink at Fred and George, who were both looking on with equal parts confusion and awe.
"I mean, I've seen some things," Fred said, "but... monkeys. Playing jazz. With style?" He gave George a sideways glance. "What do you think, bro? Is this a sign of the apocalypse or a new trend?"
"I'm gonna go with 'both'," George muttered. "This could totally be a new trend. And I'm not even sure I hate it."
Meanwhile, Deadpool wasn't just letting the monkeys steal the spotlight—no, no. He was the spotlight. "Oh, you like the monkeys, huh? Well, just wait 'til you see the real magic!"
And just like that, the spotlight shifted back to Deadpool. He twirled Jim around like it was an extra-large, magical cane and shouted over the chaos, "Just wait! The real trick is about to begin! Because guess what, folks? The show has only just begun!"
If you've never had a chance to see a grown man in a top hat wave around a talking magical staff, then you're in for a treat because, well, Jim (who had an opinion about literally everything) was now going off. Imagine Jim Carrey in his prime, but with a giant stick and a magical aura.
"Oh, I'm Jim! Jim the Staff! Watch out for me—I'm so magical I could make a sandwich fly!" Jim shouted, with all the energy of a five-year-old who'd just been given unlimited candy. He bounced around Deadpool like a tennis ball in a dryer, completely ignoring the chaos of Team Black's reactions.
But while Deadpool and Jim were busy turning the circus into a comedy show that could only be described as "What is happening right now?" Harry—or Harry-as-Jazz-Singer—was quietly, methodically, and so subtly working his own magic. Because, as it turns out, turning a bunch of magical teenagers into Looney Tunes characters doesn't just happen with a wave of your wand. It's a process. A slow one.
Shapeshifting into a smooth, sultry jazz singer with a microphone in one hand and all the charm of Miles Davis in his prime, Harry crooned a melody that was, honestly, so smooth it should've been illegal. His voice—liquid gold and honey combined—dripped over the audience, almost hypnotic in its subtlety.
But no one noticed. Not yet. Why? Because everyone was too distracted by the monkeys. And that's how you sneak in a spell.
For now, the first few victims of Harry's magic were so subtle that if they weren't in on it, they wouldn't have noticed. Take Ron Weasley, for instance. He'd just laughed a little too hard at something Fred said. His face twisted into a completely cartoonish expression—eyes bugging out like he was straight out of a Looney Tunes episode. His arm stretched out like taffy, and his leg wobbled at an angle that was impossible in real life. Did anyone see it? Nah. Jazz monkeys.
And Percy? Oh, Percy. He was probably the most uptight human being in existence, but now? Now, his posture was slumping into a caricature of itself. His nose had grown so ridiculously large that it might as well have been a prop for a circus. His glasses? Big enough to be its own satellite. Did anyone notice? Nope. Jazz monkeys.
Ginny's fiery red hair was no longer a simple mass of curls; it was now a mass of snake-like tendrils that swayed and twitched in ways they definitely shouldn't have. But Ginny was too busy tapping her feet to the rhythm, completely oblivious to the fact that her hair was now moving on its own.
And this, my friends, was the magic happening right under everyone's noses. But no one noticed.
"Deadpool!" Sirius Black shouted, practically frothing at the mouth by this point. "What the hell is going on?!"
"Oh, you mean the whole magical circus thing? Yeah, about that. I'm just giving everyone a taste of their future roles in Looney Tune history," Deadpool responded, his voice so cheery it was borderline suspicious. "You see, Sirius, you're gonna be the guy who tries to be serious, but you know what? No one's gonna take you seriously because I'm the main character here! And I don't even have to try!"
Sirius glared at him, teeth gritted, as his shoulders twitched like they were on the verge of an explosion. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, you... you... maniac!"
"Oh, come on! It's fun!" Deadpool grinned. "Admit it! You secretly love it. And I mean, seriously, who wouldn't want to see themselves in a wacky cartoon world, right? A little more cartoonish and a little less... serial killer-y."
Meanwhile, in the background, Beckendorf, Luke, Travis, and Connor were quietly running the special effects. They'd rigged up smoke machines, springs, and more than one trapdoor to ensure that every ridiculous thing in this circus went off without a hitch.
"This is way better than the last show we did," Beckendorf said, grinning like a kid in a candy store as smoke billowed from the stage.
"I mean, the monkeys are playing jazz. What else can we add to that?" Luke replied, adjusting one of the hidden strings to make the tent sway just slightly.
"Maybe a giant rubber chicken? Or—wait—better yet—raining bananas," Travis suggested, throwing his hands up like he'd just solved world peace.
Connor sighed, looking exhausted. "You guys are never going to stop, are you?"
Travis smiled. "Not while this is happening."
And so, the circus rolled on. Team Black, blissfully unaware of the impending Looney Tune transformation, was too distracted by the Jazz Monkeys to notice what was really going on. But Harry? He was just getting started.
This was only the beginning.
—
As the final note of the saxophone soared into the rafters like a drunk banshee, the jazz monkeys took a synchronized bow, their tiny tuxedos crisp, their grins smug, their little monkey hands soaking up the applause like they'd just cured world hunger.
"Give it up for The Swingin' Simian Six!" Deadpool bellowed, throwing his arms wide. "Well, actually five, since Steve is still recovering from that banana slip incident. Pour one out for our fallen comrade."
The crowd (a.k.a. Team Black, our unsuspecting victims of comedic horror) clapped politely, although Sirius looked like he was considering turning into Padfoot just to bite Deadpool's ankle.
"Now," Deadpool continued, adjusting an imaginary top hat. "You fine folks have seen talent, you've seen spectacle, but what you're about to witness? Oh-ho-ho! It's the kind of magic that'll make David Copperfield cry into his overpriced Vegas cocktails!"
With a dramatic flourish, he spun Jim—his trusty, shape-shifting magical staff—around like a baton. But Jim wasn't about to be upstaged. Oh, no. If Deadpool was going for Hugh Jackman as P.T. Barnum, then Jim was gunning for full-blown Jim Carrey in The Mask.
"LADIEEEEEEES AND GENTLEMEEEEEN!" Jim roared, his voice bouncing off the tent walls like a possessed game show host. "WELCOME TO THE SHOW OF A LIFETIME! Or at least the next ten minutes before someone inevitably freaks out and punches a hole in reality!"
Fireworks burst from nowhere. Confetti rained down. A sign reading NOW HIRING: THERAPISTS FOR TRAUMATIZED WIZARDS unfurled from the ceiling.
"WHERE THE HELL IS THAT COMING FROM?!" Percy shrieked, pointing at the floating lights now orbiting Jim's head like confused fireflies.
"No clue!" Jim beamed, doing a one-handed cartwheel off Deadpool's shoulder. "But it's colorful and distracting, which means it's time to move along, people!"
Before Team Black could question anything, Deadpool and Jim shoved them through the curtain into a winding passageway, where the real fun (read: horrifying reality breakdown) began.
If any of them had been paying attention—and let's be real, they weren't because Deadpool was doing a song-and-dance number about why Wolverine would make a terrible babysitter—they might have noticed the glowing runes lining the walls.
Might have noticed how those runes were pulsing in eerie synchronization.
Might have noticed that reality was shifting.
But nope.
Because Deadpool had them perfectly distracted.
"Now, quick survey!" Deadpool clapped his hands. "Who here has ever wanted to be a cartoon character?"
Silence.
Then, Ron, in a moment of weakness, muttered, "I mean, Bugs Bunny is kinda cool—"
"EXACTLY! Thank you, Ron!" Deadpool spun dramatically, grabbing Ron by the shoulders. "Now, buddy, pal, carrot enthusiast, have you ever considered—what if we all became Looney Tunes?"
"…what?"
Too late. The runes flared. The trap was sprung.
And the changes began.
Neville took one step forward and—BOING—his legs stretched. Like, full-on rubber band physics stretched. His torso stayed put while his legs shot forward a good ten feet. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
"Uh, guys?" Neville wobbled, his knees bending in the complete wrong direction. "Something's not right—"
BOING
His legs snapped back, sending him flying into Sirius like a human slingshot. The two crashed into a conveniently placed pile of circus peanuts.
"THE F—" Sirius started, but a peanut lodged itself in his mouth.
Ginny, meanwhile, was too busy vibing. Because whatever magic was happening? She was into it.
"Oh, this place is awesome!" she cheered, spinning around—only for her hair to come to life. And not just a little. Fully animated, waving around like it had opinions and a skincare routine.
"Ginny," Daphne said slowly, watching a strand of red hair curl around her own neck. "Your hair is sentient."
Ginny grinned. "That's rad."
It patted her cheek like a proud parent.
Ron, meanwhile, was trying very hard to stay upright.
It wasn't going well.
"Uh, little help?!" he yelped as his spine turned into a slinky. Every step he took, his body stretched and bounced like some unholy fusion of a rubber hose cartoon and a nightmare.
He tripped, collapsed into a coil, and promptly rolled forward, crashing into Percy.
Percy, whose glasses were now comically oversized and sliding down his face like a melting Salvador Dalí painting.
"Oh, this is undignified!" Percy whined, pushing them up for the fifteenth time only for them to fall right back down.
"Oh, this is perfect!" Deadpool howled with laughter, wiping away a fake tear. "This is why I get up in the morning!"
Jim, who was now wearing a full tuxedo with tails and a magician's top hat, threw a deck of cards into the air. "AND FOR MY NEXT TRICK—"
BOOM.
A cannon fired from nowhere, launching Lee Jordan straight into the air.
Lee, mid-flight: "WHAT THE F—"
Poof.
When the smoke cleared, he was standing there in full Daffy Duck mode, blinking wildly.
"I hate you both," Lee deadpanned.
"AND WE LOVE YOU!" Deadpool finger-gunned at him.
As the transformations escalated, Team Black officially lost control.
Susan's voice now had echoes, like she was narrating an old-timey film reel.
Tonks's entire body was switching animation styles every five seconds, fluctuating between anime, stop-motion, and whatever fever dream inspired Cuphead.
Fred and George had merged into a single entity. They now spoke in perfect stereo.
Lyra was levitating. No one knew why. Not even Lyra.
And Daphne? Daphne just crossed her arms, levitated six inches off the ground, and muttered, "I hate everything about this."
He turned to Jim, clapping his hands.
"Jim, my dear, chaos-loving brother—"
Jim adjusted his tie, grinning ear to ear.
"Shall we take them to the main event?"
Jim did a double backflip and landed in a split.
"Oh, let's."
Deadpool grinned at Team Black, who were now fully Looney-fied.
"Buckle up, kiddos. Shit's about to get even weirder."
And with that, they crossed into the heart of true madness.
—
Team Black should've known better by now.
By this point, they had been subjected to:
Monkeys playing jazz.
Runes that definitely weren't warping reality (except they totally were).
Deadpool doing his best Hugh Jackman-as-PT-Barnum impression, except with way more cursing and way less dignity.
And yet, somehow, they were still unprepared for what happened next.
Deadpool leaped onto a makeshift stage that definitely hadn't been there a second ago, his red-and-black suit now bedazzled because of course it was. Spotlights flared to life (where did they come from? Don't ask.), and Jim—because he was physically incapable of resisting a dramatic entrance—did a triple backflip off of Deadpool's shoulder, landing in an explosion of jazz hands and confetti.
Fireworks burst behind them.
A brass band that definitely hadn't existed before started blaring a triumphant big band jazz number.
Somewhere in the distance, a bald eagle screeched in approval.
Deadpool held up a microphone that he absolutely did not have five seconds ago.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WIZARDS AND WITCHES! DUMBASSES AND ACCIDENTAL HEROES!"
Jim struck a Broadway-worthy pose beside him.
"WELCOME TO THE GRAND FINALE!" Jim bellowed.
Deadpool pointed dramatically. "The crown jewel! The magnum opus of madness! The pinnacle of 'what the actual f—'!"
Team Black collectively blinked.
"…I feel like we should be concerned," Percy muttered, his glasses now the size of satellite dishes.
"You should be," Sirius said grimly, arms crossed. "And yet."
Deadpool took a deep breath.
And then—
"BEHOLD—SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING SQUIRRELS!"
A drumroll echoed through the tent.
And then—
A massive, glowing, Olympic-sized swimming pool materialized out of thin air, rippling with impossible colors like a liquid rainbow on acid.
Floating above the water's surface…
Squirrels.
Tiny, goggle-wearing, swim-cap-donning squirrels, lined up in perfect synchronized formation.
And then—music.
The big band jazz kicked into overdrive.
The squirrels DIVED.
And the most batshit insane aquatic performance in history began.
Team Black?
Hypnotized.
Ginny's jaw was somewhere on the floor. "Oh. My. Merlin."
Lee wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "This is… the single greatest thing I've ever seen."
Neville blinked. "Am I still tripping, or is this real?"
"Yes," Remus answered.
Fred and George? Losing their minds.
"WE NEED THIS IN THE JOKE SHOP."
"WE NEED TO MAKE THIS A REALITY."
"WE NEED TO TRAIN SQUIRRELS."
Meanwhile, Deadpool had climbed onto a high dive board that definitely hadn't existed a second ago, flexing like an Olympic diver.
"DO YOU SEE THIS?!" he bellowed. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE LEVEL OF ABSURDITY WE'VE ACHIEVED?!"
Jim threw confetti in the air.
"PEAK NONSENSE, BABY!"
Susan cupped her hands around her mouth. "Are you gonna jump or what?"
Deadpool scoffed. "Obviously."
And then Jim yeeted him off the board.
Deadpool screamed all the way down.
SPLASH.
A geyser of glowing, rainbow-colored water erupted into the air, drenching everything in sight. The squirrels? Completely unfazed. They kept swimming, flipping, twirling in perfect synchronization, as if this was just another Tuesday.
And while everyone was distracted—
Fleur, Silena, Natasha, and Yelena moved in.
They were elegant, efficient, and mildly terrifying.
Dressed as flawless, smiling servers, they glided through the crowd, carrying silver trays stacked with buttery popcorn and ice-cold lemonade.
Nobody suspected a thing.
Not when Daphne and Tracey eagerly grabbed handfuls.
Not when Hannah inhaled her third serving.
Not when Tonks chugged an entire glass in one go.
Even Sirius—who should absolutely have known better—grabbed a drink.
Deadpool, still floating in the glowing, definitely-not-safe pool, held up a sign.
DO NOT DRINK THE WATER.
(Underneath it, in fine print: "This pool is 50% squirrel sweat.")
But it was too late.
Lee was the first to notice.
"Uh… guys?"
Everyone turned.
Lee's face was bouncing.
Not metaphorically. Literally. His cheeks stretched and wobbled like he had just become a living rubber ball.
Ginny screamed.
Her entire body had stretched like some nightmare Picasso painting.
Neville looked down. His feet were enormous.
Fred and George? Delighted.
"BLOODY BRILLIANT!"
"I LOVE THIS!"
Ron tried to speak—but only cartoon gibberish came out.
Percy, adjusting his now absurdly oversized glasses, gaped in horror. "WHAT. THE. HELL."
And Fleur?
Silena?
Natasha?
Yelena?
Smiling.
Mission accomplished.
Before anyone could fully process their new Looney Tunes reality, the tent doors BURST OPEN.
BOOM.
A figure stormed in.
Clarisse La Rue.
Dressed in full Olympic swim coach gear—whistle, visor, clipboard, and an aura of sheer, unfiltered authority.
She stomped forward like a military drill sergeant who had absolutely had enough of this nonsense.
She blew her whistle.
It shattered the sound barrier.
"ALRIGHT, YOU CARTOON REJECTS!" she bellowed. "YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALTZ IN HERE, EAT MY POPCORN, DRINK MY LEMONADE, AND NOT EXPECT TO JOIN THE TEAM?!"
Sirius blinked.
"…What?"
Clarisse pointed a commanding finger at him.
"CONGRATULATIONS, BLACK! YOU'RE THE TEAM CAPTAIN."
Sirius slowly turned to look at the synchronized swimming squirrels, then at Team Black—who now looked like they had been animated by a hyperactive Warner Bros. executive— then back at the completely unbothered squirrels.
Then at Clarisse.
Then, finally—
At Deadpool.
Who was still floating in the pool, giving him a double thumbs-up.
"…I need a drink," Sirius muttered.
"NOPE," Deadpool called. "YOU NEED A SWIM CAP."
And just like that—
The real madness began.
—
From the sidelines, Deadpool and Jim watched the madness unfold like it was the season finale of the weirdest reality show in existence. Well, Deadpool was watching. Jim was mostly vibrating like a jackhammer on a sugar rush, his eyes wide with the manic glee of a cartoon character about to detonate an ACME-branded nuke.
"Ah, synchronized suffering," Deadpool sighed, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth. "It's like watching a Broadway show, but if Broadway had been designed by actual lunatics."
Jim, who was now wearing three foam fingers (because one simply wasn't enough), waved them wildly. "C'MON, TEAM BLACK! CHANNEL YOUR INNER AQUATIC WAR CRIMINALS! YOU GOT THIS!"
Deadpool nodded solemnly. "Yes. Embrace the suffering. The more you resist, the funnier it gets."
Meanwhile, Team Black had absolutely zero say in what was happening. One second, they were normal (ish). The next—BAM.
Swim gear.
And not just any swim gear. Oh no. Matching swim gear.
Percy looked down at himself and nearly had an aneurysm. His bright blue speedo was tighter than his moral code, which was saying something. "I swear to Merlin, this is a human rights violation."
Next to him, Ron was flailing like a drowning giraffe, his absurdly stretched-out limbs making him look like he'd been designed by a malfunctioning AI. "WHY AM I A LIVING STICK FIGURE?! ALSO, WHY AM I IN A GODDAMN SPEEDO?!"
Ginny, meanwhile, was now proportionally 80% legs, and Lee Jordan's face kept bouncing like a basketball, which did wonders for his composure.
Before anyone could protest further, Clarisse La Rue blew her whistle with enough force to shatter eardrums and possibly rip a hole in space-time.
"GET YOUR CARTOON ASSES IN THAT POOL, NOW!"
Ginny turned to argue, but Jean Grey appeared beside Clarisse like an overenthusiastic personal trainer from Hell, clapping her hands together like a caffeinated cheerleader.
"LET'S GO, PEOPLE!" Jean beamed, clipboard in hand, stopwatch in the other. "We're on a tight schedule. I need perfect pirouettes in five minutes or so help me—"
Her eyes gleamed.
Ginny launched herself into the water like she'd been hit with a telekinetic shoryuken.
Deadpool leaned forward. "Ooooh, Jedi mind trickery? Jean, you sly fox, I love it."
Jean turned her creepy, overly enthusiastic gaze toward the rest of the team.
Neville tried to back away. "Nope. Noooope. I am NOT doing this."
Jean smiled. "Oh, sweetie."
And then Neville cannonballed into the pool, screaming the entire way down.
"Yes. YES!" Jim shrieked, pointing like a madman. "THROW THEM ALL IN! LET THEM KNOW TRUE FEAR!"
One by one, they all plunged into the water, whether it was voluntary or not.
Sirius, who had spent a good chunk of his life as an actual dog, at least had the dignity to dive like a pro.
Tonks? Belly-flopped. So hard. So painfully. That Deadpool clutched his own stomach in sympathetic pain.
Hannah, still chewing on popcorn for some reason, did an accidental slow-motion cartwheel before landing with a splash.
Clarisse paced the edge of the pool like a war general surveying her doomed troops. "Alright, you pack of circus rejects! You're gonna learn this routine, and you're gonna learn it FAST!"
Percy, his nose still comically large, adjusted his glasses. "I hate this. I hate everything about this."
Clarisse's whistle nearly shattered reality itself.
"TOUGH SHIT, WEASLEY. FOLLOW ALONG."
Jean, meanwhile, unscrewed a tiny vial behind her back and discreetly dumped a shimmering liquid into the pool.
The water glowed brighter.
Deadpool squinted. "Oooh. What's that? Poison? Mind-control juice? The mystical essence of WTF?"
Jim whipped out a pair of comically oversized opera glasses and gasped. "MAGIC. EVIL, EVIL MAGIC." He wiped away a completely imaginary tear. "I've never been prouder."
Back in the pool…
It was not going well.
Ron, still speaking in full-blown Looney Tunes gibberish, attempted a backstroke, only to accidentally mid-air somersault and land face-first in the water.
Fred and George? Absolutely thriving. They were flipping through the pool like a pair of synchronized dolphins.
Lee tried to follow the routine but ended up stretching his face in seven different directions, nearly colliding with Percy's satellite-dish glasses in the process.
And Sirius?
Sirius was floating.
Just… floating.
Staring at the ceiling.
Looking like a man who had just had his soul ripped out and replaced with pure existential dread.
"I was supposed to be cool," he muttered.
Jean clapped her hands, grinning like an unholy fusion of a drill sergeant and a Broadway choreographer. "Alright, people! Time for choreography!"
The synchronized squirrels, who were still executing Olympic-level maneuvers, assembled into perfect formation.
Jean gestured. "THIS is the goal."
Percy pushed up his glasses again. "I hate this goal."
Clarisse blew her whistle directly into his soul.
"TOUGH SHIT, WEASLEY. FOLLOW ALONG!"
And then…
It began.
Deadpool leaned over to Jim, voice practically purring with amusement. "Buddy. This is so much better than cable."
Jim, trembling with pure joy, whispered, "This is ART."
Meanwhile, in the water…
The Looney Tunes transformation wasn't just beginning.
It was nearly complete.
And Team Black?
They still had no idea.
—
Team Black emerged from the pool like wet, bewildered animals.
Which made sense, because, well…they were wet, bewildered animals.
Sirius Black, now an anthropomorphic, cartoonishly buff, Speedo-wearing wolf, shook himself like an overgrown mutt, sending a tsunami of water onto his equally cursed teammates.
Ginny Weasley, reborn as a hyperactive red Tasmanian devil, yelped, spun in a wild blur, and then promptly crashed into Ron—who, as luck would have it, was now a rooster with lanky limbs, a massive beak, and the unfortunate tendency to speak in pure, undiluted Looney Tunes gibberish.
"What the bloody hell is this?!" Percy Weasley (who had somehow become an owl—because even in cartoon form, he had to be the know-it-all bird) squawked, adjusting his comically oversized glasses.
"I-I'm a rabbit," Neville Longbottom muttered, staring down at his massive cartoonish feet. "Like an actual rabbit."
Next to him, Susan Bones—now a duck—covered her face with her feathery hands. "I… I don't know whether to be horrified or honored."
Fred and George, now twin coyote brothers, exchanged looks. Then, in perfect unison:
"Brother."
"Brother."
"It appears we are now creatures of chaos."
"It appears we have been granted the power of ACME."
"Oh, this is gonna be fun."
Before Sirius could strangle them, a thunderous voice boomed through the stadium.
"AND THE WINNERS OF THE PRANK WAR—AGAIN—ARE… TEAM LOKISON!"
Jim Jingu Bang—aka absolute, unfiltered madness in a suit—was standing on the stadium railing, dual-wielding microphones, somehow summoning spotlights out of nowhere.
Behind him, Deadpool flipped onto the announcer's table, pulled out a handheld camcorder (why did he have a camcorder?!), and went full ESPN mode.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what an absolute disaster we just witnessed! Let's run back the highlights—OH LOOK AT THAT FORM, LOOK AT THAT FORM—SLOW MOTION, BABY! Oooooh, that belly flop from Tonks?! Masterpiece. Someone frame that."
A giant enchanted banner unfurled from the sky, reading:
"BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME, LOSERS! HAHAHAHA!"
Confetti rained down. Flyers drifted through the air, each one painstakingly detailing Team Black's many failures.
Up in the stands, Team Lokison basked in their undisputed glory.
Harry, arms crossed, smirking like a king atop his throne of victory, let out a satisfied sigh. "Ahhh, nothing like the sweet, sweet taste of absolute domination."
Thalia—leaning against the railing, arms crossed, the perfect image of smugness—chuckled. "I told you they'd never see it coming."
Annabeth, standing beside her, smirked. "It was all about the timing."
Luke Castellan, flipping through a holographic replay on his literal magic tablet, nodded sagely. "Flawless execution. Textbook humiliation."
Travis and Connor Stoll—who were already taking orders for professionally printed photos of Team Black's downfall—grinned like the little criminals they were.
"Alright, listen up, folks!" Travis called. "Limited edition prints available now!"
"Five drachmas or an unreasonable amount of galleons!" Connor added.
Luke turned the screen toward Harry. "Ooooh, this one's going in the family album."
Meanwhile, in the stands…
Marlene McKinnon—Sirius' delighted wife, Harry's smug godmother, and Lyra's highly amused mother—snapped another photo.
Flash.
"Oh, love," she sighed, grinning. "You look precious."
Sirius, still a very wet cartoon wolf, growled. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"More than I should," Marlene admitted, completely unapologetic.
"Mommy, look!" Seven-year-old Lyra Black beamed, bouncing up and down in excitement. "Daddy's all fluffy!"
Loki—yes, Loki, formerly James Potter, now chaos incarnate—looked positively radiant with pride.
"Ahhh," he sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "My son never disappoints."
Artemis—formerly Lily Potter, now the eternal Goddess of the Hunt—rolled her eyes. "He certainly takes after you."
"As he should." Loki smirked. "My legacy is intact."
Back in the arena…
Apollo, sitting on the railing, looking like an absolute rockstar, flipped down his shades and grinned. "Ohhh, the lighting is gorgeous. Keep suffering, people, I'm getting the best angles."
Hermes, wheezing from laughter, wiped a tear from his eye. "This might be the greatest prank in Olympian history."
Meanwhile, Thor—Apollo's eternal rival in the battle for Best Uncle—slapped a massive hand on Harry's back. "TRULY, A GLORIOUS VICTORY, NEPHEW!"
Apollo scoffed. "Oh, shut up, sparkles. I clearly get the Best Uncle points today."
Harry raised a finger. "Actually, if we're counting purely based on contributions to my happiness—"
Deadpool leaned into the mic. "—IT'S A TIE, FOLKS!"
Chaos erupted.
Back on Team Black's side…
Sirius inhaled deeply, summoning every ounce of dignity he had left.
"Harry," he said, voice dangerously low. "Fix. This."
Harry blinked innocently. "Oh, don't worry. The transformation will wear off."
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "When?"
"…Eventually."
"Define 'eventually,'" Percy squawked.
Harry gave them his best shit-eating grin. "Before the next Prank War, probably."
A collective groan echoed from Team Black.
"Oh, and one more thing," Harry added cheerfully. "Group photo!"
Sirius' eyes widened in horror. "No—"
FLASH.
Deadpool tossed a camera into the air. "AND BOOM, BABY! MEMORIES LOCKED IN FOREVER!"
Travis, Connor, and Luke all started counting money.
And somewhere in the cosmic realm, the prank gods nodded in approval.
—
Final Score:
Team Lokison: 5
Team Black: 0
Dignity: Nowhere to be found.
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Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Click the link below to join the conversation:
https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd
Can't wait to see you there!
If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:
https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007
Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s
Thank you for your support!