A Word with Paul Jones

[Author’s Note: Let me forewarn you – I have a very strange sense of humor. And, for what it’s worth, upon reading this, don’t assume I’m bashing Mrs. Rowling or any of her characters; really, my intention is to just have a bit of fun, even moreso if I can use a few of the complaints I’ve seen fluttering about the forums. And this is easily the worst thing I’ve written in a number of weeks, but, ah, I’m sure you don’t want to know that…]

A Word with Paul Jones

by: Azure

Harry had done this, once or twice before, leaning against the rails, standing alone on his ship, staring out across the sea and taking great comfort in the rolling blue. Here, he thought, was perfection - something simple, something grand, something almost magical in the way the moon cast a white shadow over the waters. Hmm. White shadow. Yes, Harry liked that. He decided, entirely randomly, that he should write poetry.

"Ron," he said, as his first mate moved to join him along the rails. "I've decided I should write poetry."

Ron blinked. "Lord, Cap'n, if you're that desperate for companionship, I can help you. I never bought into that whole 'women dig the sensitive guys' nonsense." He paused to wipe the imprint of lipstick from his cheek. "Shiver me timbers," he said, as an afterthought.

"Right," Harry said, nodding. "Very pirate-ish. Good job." He chose to ignore how very odd that sounded. "Are the others sleeping?" he asked, drawing his cape closer around his shoulders. He wasn't entirely certain as to why he had a cape; it was sexy, yes, and that was a good reason in itself, though Harry supposed his most recent purchase had something to do with his companions - everyone else had changed, he reasoned, so why couldn't he have a cape?

"Suppose so," Ron said, plainly, looking thoughtful for all of a moment. "Feels like I haven't seen Luna and Neville in years."

Harry gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Understandable. You've been quite busy having an inexplicable romance with Lavender." He chose to ignore the twinge that told him quite simply that something was terribly off with the whole scenario.

Ron blinked. Again. "I thought I liked Hermione." He looked to be mindless of the terribly gaudy 'My Sweetheart' necklace hanging jauntily across his chest. "Yarr," he added, with suitable pirate inflection.

"So did I. And her. And everyone at port. Oh, and - " Harry paused, shaking his head. "Never mind that. Where is Hermione, anyways?"

The sound of footsteps reached his ears as a flash of crimson swung into view. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "No, Ginny. Hermione. I don't know why you always mix that up." Then again, he hadn't really seen Hermione since the ship had left port, something he thought rather strange. Normally, she would be up on deck with the rest, bossing everyone around and yet being entirely logical with her orders; now, however, she seemed to lurk in the darkest corners of the ship, doing strange and terrible things - well, actually, she had taken to flirting with Ron, which Harry thought to be pretty curious in itself.

Ginny gave a sort of pout. "You don't want to see me? We're getting married!"

Ron gave a start. "What? Marriage? The hell - " he fell short with a look from his sister, deciding his timbers had been suitably shivered. "What I meant to say," he began, looking quite calm, "was that it seemed rather sudden."

Harry, for his part, was also relatively surprised, having had no say in the decision in the least. "Just a moment, Ginny, m'dear. When was this decided?"

"Three months ago, love - don't you remember that very long talk we had? When we spilled our secrets to each other and came to a complete understanding?" Typical to her last name, Ginny seemed to be rapidly losing her temper. "Did that mean nothing to you?"

Harry said nothing, at first, giving it great thought, finding at last that he had no damned clue of what she was talking about. "Ginny, Ginny - I don't have a damned clue as to what you're talking about. You know we don't talk or do any of those things required in a relationship. All we do is snog!"

Ron, wisely, turned tail and ran, leaving Harry to watch him go with some trepidation. "I'd really hoped he would stay. I feel like I barely know him anymore."

"It doesn't matter," Ginny said, brushing his concern aside. "He's just a minor character. What is important, however, is us - don't you want something more than physical contact?"

"Not really," Harry said, with manifest honesty. "I've a pretty girlfriend and a cape. What else would I need?" This was, apparently, the wrong answer. Harry came to this conclusion when Ginny turned a violent shade of red.

"Harold James Potter! How can you say that?"

"Well, we don't talk," Harry said, quite reasonably. "If we did, you would have known that I already have someone I go to when I need emotional support." He took the moment to adjust his cape. "And it's Harry. Not Harold."

"Oh," Ginny said, blinking. "Right. Sorry." She took a moment to locate her temper. "And let me guess - you go to Hermione!"

Harry gave her a radiant smile. "Of course. I've known her for six years." A small frown touched against his lips. "Well, I don't like to include that last year."

Ginny looked torn between anger and hurt. She opened her mouth, temporarily, perhaps to say something extremely funny (for, as Harry knew, she was simply hilarious), but instead turned and darted away from the rails, In the ensuing silence, Harry simply shrugged and turned back to the rails, knowing Ron would take the time to sneak out shortly.

"Blimey, mate," said Ron, perfectly on cue, coming once again to stand near the railings. "Temper on that one." He gave a small shiver before turning to more important matters. "So when are you two getting married?"

"I don't think we are, to be honest."

"Oh." Ron looked only temporarily disheartened. "I hope Ginny will be okay. Remember what happened to Tonks? Sheer insanity."

"Right," Harry said, paying attention in time only to hear Ron add an appropriate pirate term. "Why are you doing that, anyways?"

"I'm not sure. To be honest, Cap'n, it makes me feel out of character."

Harry gave a grave nod. "Keep to it, then. 'Tis canon, after all." He gave a great sigh. "Where is Hermione?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno."

Harry let his gaze fall out across the waters. "I miss her."

[Author's Note: So, uh, I wasn't really planning on continuing this story, which would seem to make this next chapter-thing a little out of place. But here it is, nonetheless, in all its strange glory, so hopefully you'll enjoy, though I can't say if it's as good as the first chapter (not that the first chapter was any good in the first place ^_^). Usual warnings apply: I have a weird sense of humor, I'm not bashing characters, and I'm not bashing the wonderful Mrs. Rowling. Really, I'm only having a bit of fun…and it would seem to me that the world needs a little more humor, when it comes down to it.]

A Word with Paul Jones - The Second Chapter in Which Things Happen

by: Azure

He wasn't sure why he was doing this.

There was a voice, certainly, in the back of his mind, that said this was the easiest thing to do. Step in, say a few words, adjust cape, step out - simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less - which was precisely why Cap'n Harry Potter was staring at the plain wooden door and twirling the small flower clasped in his hands. He'd been staring at the woodwork for what seemed to be ages; Ron had passed, once, and looked at him strangely, though mumbling only something about landlubbers before strolling off.

Right. He could do this. No more stalling.

"Harry?"

He blinked, coming to his senses, immensely surprised to see Ginny holding the door open, wearing an expression of pleasant confusion. "Oh. Hello." He tugged at his cape for good measure. "Right. Well, yes, this is for you," he said, as plainly as he could manage, thrusting the flower into her hands, before crossing his arms in the most jaunty pirate way he thought possible.

It was a delicate thing, the flower, a lily he had picked up in some port so very long ago. And red, too, much like her hair, which Ron had pointed out as to always scoring huge points. Harry was frankly disturbed with putting the words 'scoring' and 'Ron' in the same sentence, but, eh, he figured that was simply another part of life, like how the people he held close always died or suffered violent character changes.

"It's beautiful," Ginny said, right on cue, with an appropriate look of wonder. "You picked this for me?"

Harry chose not to mention that he'd won it in a brutal game of hopscotch. "Of course. I saw it, you know, uh, growing, and it screamed your name. Well, not literally. That would have been pretty creepy." He thought he was getting pretty good at this lying thing, which brought a twinge when he realized Hermione wouldn't have approved.

Ginny simply smiled and tucked the flower above her ear, where it proceeded to clash magnificently with her hair. "Does it remind you of your mother?" she asked, softly, her eyes...fiery, I suppose, since Ginny has never really been described as anything else. Ahem.

"Yes," Harry said, truthfully, but pushed the thought away. Bad things happened when he pondered on it for much too long - things like the recognition that dating Ginny was eerily similar to dating someone who supposedly looked just like his mother. And, yes, he wanted his mother's love, but not in that manner, no sir.

"I guess I should apologize for being a little temperamental as of lates." Ginny seemed hardly aware of the fact that she had managed to set the ship on fire three times in middle of a rainstorm. "I was just a little...surprised, you know? You and I - we're meant to be together. It was just hard to admit that we don't do or act like it, almost as if some cosmic author was making your highly important romantic interests just a subplot in the grand scheme of things."

Harry blinked. Interesting. I wasn't aware that she thought about..things. "Ginny," he began, leaning on the doorframe, wearing a look of great seriousness. "There's something you need to know."

"Did your patronus change into an otter?"

"What? I - no, I wanted to say - " Harry took a deep breath, adjusted his cape, and started anew. "I wanted you to know that I have a monster in my chest."

"Oh."

Silence.

Ginny looked faintly concerned. "That must be very painful."

Harry gave a jaunty and masculine smile. "I've been through worse," he said, pausing only a moment to consider how very ridiculous this entire conversation was.

"What do you think it means? It isn't - Voldemort, is it?"

Harry's lip curled at the mention of his arch-rival. "I sincerely hope not. I knew he was envious of my cape, yes, but not to an extreme." He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Regardless, in light of this recent development, I don't think I can see you anymore." There. It was out in the open - something he had needed to say for what seemed ages. He watched Ginny carefully, tensing his body for any signs of potential danger.

"I'm sorry," he added, most helpfully. "Maybe - I don't know, maybe when this is all over, we can try again." He paused. "We could have ages...months....years, maybe...." Harry paused again. Merlin, he thought, with great disgust. That sounded stupid.

Ginny, however, took no notice of his discomfort, only turning another violent shade of red and slamming the door quite loudly in his face. "You'll regret this, Harry Potter!" her voice came fiercely from behind the door, and Harry thought he heard the sound of tears intermingled with thoroughly impressive pirate curses.

"Right," Harry said, to the door, and, with a flourish of his cape, strolled off down the corridor, fully expecting Ron to make a magical appearance as he rounded the corner.

"How'd it go, mate?" Ron asked, rubbing the lipstick from his forehead. "Did you two make up?" He had a crafty (and thus very strange) look to his eyes.

"Sod off, Ron. I know you heard every word." Harry, surprisingly, was in a good mood about the entire thing, having done what he had intended to do. That, and he had a cape!

Ron shrugged. "Yes, you're right. Yarr! You realize she'll probably destroy the ship now, right?"

"Yes," Harry said, still somewhat cheerfully. "But she'll live. She's a strong girl, after all. Particularly in the sixth Harry Potter book."

"What?"

Harry blinked. "I don't know why I said that."

"Right," Ron said, waving it off. "Anyways, I need your advice. I'm getting a little tired of Lavender, you see, and although I'm obviously a stud who does inexplicably well with the ladies, I've decided I want to try and settle for Hermione." Harry noted that his friend was no longer wearing that horrid necklace.

"You're no longer wearing that horrid necklace," he said, thoughtfully, giving his friend a long look. "You're quite serious about this, aren't you?"

"Sirius?" Ron had a look of panic. "Ah, mate, I know you spent only a few pages worrying about him, but if you want to talk, I'm - " he blinked, much like Harry did, and, with a look of confusion, shook his head. "Yeah, uh, I'm serious. I've had enough of the Won-Won lifestyle." There was a flicker of pure terror across his eyes as his nickname fell from his lips. "Ahoy, matey," he added, as an afterthought, seemingly recovered.

"Hmm." Harry gave his friend a consoling pat on the shoulder. "Best advice I can give you is to keep fighting with her, mate. I've had many sleepless nights wondering why, but, eh, it seems to that your relationship is going to be built off of jealousy and petty yet painful arguments, so you've already got a good start."

Ron looked immensely cheery at the news. "Wicked. I always knew causing her emotional discomfort would pay off one day." He gave Harry a short bow before darting off. "Thanks Cap'n! I'm off to find Hermione!"

"Wait!" Harry called after him. "Where is Hermione?" He gave a huff of annoyance as the sound of a door bursting open came to his ears. "Hermione, Ginny, not you!" Said door was slammed shut.

Silence filled the corridor.

"Curses," Harry said, with suitable pirate inflection. With a sigh, he adjusted his cape, forcing his thoughts from somewhere other than his bushy-haired best friend.

Truth be told, he still missed her.

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[Author's Note: Still not bashing the author. Still not bashing the characters. I am, however, dragging this story along in a desperate attempt to bring a little more humor to the world. I'd say this is going to be the last chapter, as I've gone and utilized most of my ideas, but there's a small (very small) chance a fourth installment will be coming along, depending on whether or not I feel guilty for ending things rather abruptly. After all, Hermione still doesn't have any dialogue, but I'm a little bit leery to try it, given how much her character changed. Kudos to all the readers who have taken the time to read my nonsense! ^_^]

A Word with Paul Jones - The Third Chapter in Which Quality Takes a Hit

by: Azure

Dear Diary -

Harry paused.

Dear Journal -

"No, no..."

Dear Manly Book of Masculine Thoughts -

"What are you doing, Cap'n?"

Harry dropped his quill at the sound of Ron's voice, glancing up from his Manly Book of Masculine Thoughts to see his first mate lingering at the doorway. "Poetry," he said, not having anything else to say, wincing the moment the word left his lips. "Uh..pirate poetry, that is. About..looting. And women. And..things." He twirled his cape for dramatic pirate effect.

"Right," Ron said, nodding, moving to come sit close to the table. "Not to interrupt the creative juices, Cap'n, but I've a small problem I was wondering if you could help me with."

Harry shook his head, not answering immediately, deciding he could die quite happily so long as he never head Ron say 'juices' ever again. "Go ahead," he said, a moment later, wincing again as his voice came out sounding strangled and weak. He had the distinct impression, nonetheless, that his first mate's problems revolved solely around a certain bushy-haired girl.

"My problems revolve solely around a certain bushy-haired girl, Cap'n." Ron's face was extraordinarily straight. "Shiver me timbers," he added, seemingly as routine.

Okay. No more hanging out with Ron. "Creepy," Harry said, at first, before redirecting his attention to his friend, who was now looking suitably morose. "Are your petty arguments and emotional scars not working?"

"Nope," Ron said, sighing. "Girl's acting a bit bonkers. Started talking about vomiting just the other day - "

"Ah, yes," Harry said, feeling the first twinge of hope in what felt to be years - that, or the duration of the sixth book. "S.P.E.W.?"

Ron looked distinctly confused. "S.P.E.W.? Sounds..familiar, aye, but it's not ringing any bells. Yarr!"

"You're right," Harry agreed, the voice of reason. "It was thoroughly ignored during the Half-Blood Prince." He paused, his newfound wisdom fading entirely. "Uh..don't know why I said that."

Ron simply nodded. "Right. Well, anyways, she was talking about spewing, and then something of Aragog. Shivered my timbers, that. Name sort of tells me to run away."

"Well, you're sort of a coward," Harry said, quite reasonably. "But Aragog - wasn't that the giant man-eating spider you used to have nightmares about?" His only response was a very shrill scream as Ron fainted on the spot, which, though highly entertaining, was enough to have Harry glance at his companion with great alarm. "Ron?"

His concern was temporarily abated at the sound of footsteps down the corridor - and then a fierce cry that rang out through the woodwork. Whirling, he found Ginny at the doorway, managing to look collected and yet still thoroughly pissed off. It was an amusing contrast, to say the very least.

"Harry," she said, coolly. "The time has come to settle this." She didn't seem worried at all that her brother had collapsed into a decidedly painful position on the floor.

"Uh..it has?" Harry asked, even more alarmed than before. He had the distinct impression that Ginny could be quite dangerous - especially her Bat-Bogey Hex! "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, already knowing the answer, though at a complete loss nonetheless as to why his former girlfriend was after his blood.

"No, of course not, Harry," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "I'm simply taking over your ship so I can wear a cape too."

Harry didn't smile. "That isn't funny."

"Don't you see?" Ginny asked, coming a few angry steps forward, her voice coming out as more of a shriek, the flower still above her ear shifting dangerously. "You care more for that blasted cape than you ever did for me! And Hermione - oh, don't even get me started on darling Hermione!"

Harry was beginning to wonder, dimly, why every girl he was attracted to inevitably started acting insane.

"Listen," he began, quite calmly, raising his hands in what he thought to be a placating gesture. "If this is about the monster in my chest, I assure you that I'm thinking only of your safety. And besides, 'tis only temporary; I'm sure once I manage to find Hermione, she'll know how to fix it -- " He realized he had said the wrong thing right about the time Ginny's hand met his face.

"Enough! Come with me, Harry, dear," she said, still looking quite angry, though it actually came out as somewhat amusing, given her red face, red flower, and red hair. Harry chose to ignore that her eyes looked rather red too. "There's something on deck I'm sure you'll want to see."

Harry followed with some trepidation, not knowing what to expect and wondering how on earth he would ever manage to convince Ginny to calm down. He briefly contemplated tossing her overboard, but, on the other hand, that would require quite a bit of effort, certainly more than he wished to exert so soon before dinner. "Is this going to take long?" he asked, as they wound their way up towards the deck, feeling just a tad irked with the notion of stepping outside when the sound of rain was coming very clearly from above.

"No, not long," Ginny said, with a false cheerfulness. "Think of it as a parting gift before I steal your ship."

Women. "Honestly, I don't why you'd want to. It isn't easy being the Captain, after all, despite the fact that I never really do anything besides yell at McLaggen - "

"Who?"

Harry blinked. "Never mind," he said, and followed her up onto the deck, where, as predicted, it was raining an amount thoroughly suitable for a dramatic outdoor encounter. "Right," he began, rubbing his hands and adjusting his cape, "I'm ready for the dramatic outdoor encounter. What's going to - Hermione?"

He had caught, in the random yet well-placed flash of lightning, a hint of bushy hair, and, moving closer, was appropriately surprised to find her to tied to the mast, looking angry and wet and generally very displeased with the gag that had been jammed into her mouth. "Why is she tied to the mast?" he asked, turning to Ginny, finding only an odd look drawn across her face.

"I put here there, Harry," Ginny said, rather as if stating the obvious, her hands placed on her hips. "Honestly, how could you miss that?"

"It's the way I was written," Harry pointed out, not in the least bit offended. "I tend to need anvil-sized hints or things go unnoticed. After all, I've been best friends with Hermione for a very long time and I've never really considered her in a romantic sense, which, in some circles, would likely make me - "

"Gay?" Ginny had a look of sudden understanding.

Harry frowned. "No, not quite the word I was going for, there. But that's not important - why did you tie her to the mast?" He wisely chose to avoid Hermione's line of sight, given that she looked ready to kill - that, or flirt with Ron, both of which Harry found fairly undesirable.

Ginny sighed. "You don't appreciate me, Harry. At all. Do you - do you know how difficult it is to replace Hermione's character? I have to be smart and pretty and understanding and - you just don't appreciate it!"

"Did you even stop to consider splinters? Or the injuries she received in the Ministry of Magic?" Harry, now notably irritated, swirled his cape imperiously and gave Ginny a very serious frown.

"Did you completely ignore everything I said? This is what I'm talking about! Oh, Merlin - wait, what injuries?" Ginny's self righteous ranting was momentarily abated as she turned towards the mast.

Harry checked himself. "Oh, yes, that's true. I forgot they weren't mentioned at all in the last book." He paused, then shook his head. "Don't ask," he said, wearily, though this only managed to incense Ginny further.

"That's exactly it! I feel like I hardly know you at all, despite the numerous times we snogged - but I'm going to give you a choice. I'm going to give you a chance. Stay here, with me, and we can have something fantastic, Harry. We can have an actual relationship! Or you can run to darling Hermione, there, and throw it all away - Harry?"

He was gone, already, to the mast, his hands working rapidly across the ropes, entirely mindless of Ginny's ranting, catching only the occasional pirate curse and blasphemy against a certain cosmic author. "Just a little more, Hermione," he said, undoing the knot, and, with a thud as the rope fell to the deck, she was free - and in his arms, hugging him tightly, blessedly mindful of his cape and shivering in the cold.

Harry had the glorious feeling that he'd just found a long-lost friend.

“Mff,” Hermione said, on a whim, bringing him closer.

Harry simply smiled. “Yes, I know my cape is utterly sexy.” His hands snaked their way up towards her mouth, intent on removing the gag, though he halted a moment to look her straight in the eyes. “And you owe me a ship.”

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