I was going to do another blog post this week about something, you know, substantial, but didn’t end up having time. And now I have begun a two-week business trip in which I will be travelling on six planes, a train, and making two 6-hour drives, through five states, including a few days to go to ARGFest 2011. So I’m not blessed with an abundance of time in the next little while.
So, rather than talk about anything substantial, I will round off my recent spate of Harry Potter-related posts with something a little more fun. There’s a well-known joke wherein you replace the word “wand” in any of the Harry Potter books with, well, “wang” is the most common, it being a close substitute, and it turns the stories into something quite different, and well, pretty funny (to the twelve-year-old we all have inside of us).
I didn’t set out to do this as I reread the series last month, but every once in a while, there would be a passage that just begged to be infused with sexual innuendo — sometimes not even directly related to the word “wand”. I wrote down some of my favourites. Enjoy!
“Twelve and a quarter inches… ash… pleasantly springy. It’s in fine condition… you treat it regularly?”
“Polished it last night,” said Cedric grinning.
–Goblet of Fire
“I should know… examined [Dumbledore] personally in Transfiguration and Charms when he did his NEWTs… did things with a wand I’d never seen before.”
–Order of the Phoenix
“This isn’t your average book. It’s pure gold: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. Explains everything you need to know about girls. If only I’d had this last year, I’d have known exactly how to get rid of Lavender and I would’ve known hot to get going with… well, Fred and George gave me a copy, and I’ve learned a lot. You’d be surprised, it’s not all about wandwork, either. ”
“I couldn’t… make one,” he panted, clutching the stitch in his side. “Wouldn’t… come.”
“Harry, what happened? Why do you think you couldn’t make your Patronus? You managed perfectly yesterday!”
Harry looked down at the blackthorn wand. Every minor spell he had cast with it so far that day had seemed less powerful than those he had produced with his phoenix wand. The new one felt intrusively unfamiliar, like having somebody else’s hand sewn to the end of his arm.
“You just need to practise,” said Hermione… “It’s all a manner of confidence, Harry.”
“I heard you coming out of my pocket. Your voice. …”
“And what exactly did I say?”
“My name. ‘Ron.’ And you said… something about a wand…”
“the wand would be bound to attract trouble–”
“–only if you shouted about it. Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head and singing, ‘I’ve got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.'”
“Oh, it’s all nonsense. Wands are only as powerful as the wizards who use them. Some wizards just like to boast that theirs are bigger and better than other people’s.”
Harry took aim at it with the wand Ron had given him the previous night, which Hermione had since condescended to examine…
By Deathly Hallows, I swear she was doing it on purpose.
Have a good weekend, all!