concept: willy wonka and harry potter take place in the same universe the ministry of magic haaaates Willy Wonka
“Mr. Wonka,” Dumbledore smiled warmly, looking down into the Pit from his podium. The members of the Wizengamot muttered disapprovingly, shifting in their seats. Willy Wonka, clad today in a bright magenta suit and tophat, beamed cheekily up at them from his chair, his silver-gloved hands cradling his chin.
“Mr. Dumbledore,” He replied brightly, with the barest hint of a lisp.
“I trust you know why you are here?” Dumbledores question was crisp and businesslike, but the twinkle in his eye gave away his amusement at the situation.
“Not at all! I’ve nary a clue,” Wonka wiggled his eyebrows. Dumbledore audibly stifled a laugh.
“You are accused of improper use of magic, improper use of muggle artifacts, and several counts of using magic in front of a muggle,” Dumbledore reminded him. He conjured a projection with his wand. Displayed in grainy sepia was Willy Wonka, arm around a boy of around 10. Behind his back, he twitched an ash wand, and machines in the background around them whirred to life, producing all manner of sweets.
The projection ran its course and collapsed, and Dumbledore stowed his wand back inside his robes.
Wonka smiled and fiddled with his hat.
“How do you plead?” Dumbledore asked, leaning forward eagerly for what would surely be an amusing trial.
“Not guilty on all counts,” Wonka said, perhaps a tad smugly.
The members of the Wizengamot muttered amongst themselves. Not Guilty? Impossible!
Dumbledore hushed them quickly. “Explain, if you would. We have, after all, quite a mountain of evidence.”
Wonka stood and brushed a bit of dust off his suit. He tipped his hat mischievously. “Of course,” he grinned.
“Firstly, use of magic shall only be considered improper whereby it is applied to cause harm or applied recklessly. All magic used in my sweets is rigorously tested for both safety and taste. It is not used to cause harm, but to bring joy.” Wonka paused to adjust his jacket.
“But surely,” Dumbledore said, leafing through his notes, “you cannot deny that you illegally charmed several thousand muggle artifacts?”
“Ah, but I can,” Wonka said, now twirling his cap in his hands. “Muggle artifact refers, of course, to any muggle made object. But, you see, I built those machines, each and every one. They are not muggle machines at all, but wizarding machines, built by a wizard. The factory itself, as well. You could argue that, as machines are a muggle invention, I still broke the rules, but then I could argue that every wizard dwelling with any charms applied to its walls is in violation of the law, as muggles were the first to make bricks.”
The Wizengamot glared silently. He was right, of course. Violating the spirit of the law was not illegal if one followed the letter.
“And the last charge? These are definitely Muggle children, are they not? No magical talent, raised in muggle society?” Dumbledore straightened his glasses and peered down at Wonka, his eyes still bright with intrigue.
“Not at all,” Wonka grinned, placing his hat back on his head. “You see, the ticket system was not nearly so random as I pretended. The tickets were charmed, they would only becomes visible to children with magical heritage. All the children chosen were second generation Squibs.” Wonka bowed low, as if he were finishing a particularly well executed play.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems no laws were violated after all.” Dumbledore stifled a grin at the groans of angry disapproval from the Wizengamot.
“But he very clearly violated the intent of the rules!” Spluttered a large, rather red faced wizard in the second row. “He’s just…cheating! He’s cheating!”
“Ah, this is true, but he did not, technically speaking, break any of the rules. He did not expose muggles to magic, nor enchant muggle made objects, nor improperly apply magic anymore so than any magical confectioner. I’m afraid we have to let him go.” Dumbledore smiled gently and put away the rather thick file with Wonka’s name embossed on the cover. For the brief second it was open, a list of hundreds of charges with “Not Guilty” inked beside them was visible. It was carried off by a house elf, and the Wizengamot began to file out until only Dumbledore was left.
“You’re a very clever man,” He called down to Wonka. “We could use you at Hogwarts, you know.”
“No thank you,” Wonka called back, grinning. “Skirting the law is far more fun!”
Willy Wonka is a fucking Slytherin.
I’d prevviously said ‘Yes! Gene Wilder! Wonk!’. Now there’s pics.
BUT…
OMG.
MS. FRIZZLE! (and the MAGIC School Bus).
She must be before the Wizengamot ALL the TIME.
(Is her excuse; ‘Well, it’s educational’???? And it WORKS?!!)
Cornelius Fudge sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Behind him, the members of the Wizengamot muttered amongst themselves, wondering what his next move would be. When he finally looked up from his podium, all he could do was glare at the chipper redheaded woman perched on the arm of the interrogation seat in the Pit. A bright green lizard poked its head out of the collar of her planet patterned dress and skittered around her shoulders to stare back at him.
“Mrs. Valerie…” He checked the file again. “Frizzle?”
“Good morning, Minister!” She replied happily, a hint of a laugh in her voice.
“It’s 3:30 in the afternoon, Madam,” He replied. He was tired.
“Here yes, but in America, its 10:30 in the morning! Aren’t time zones incredible?” She smiled and he could see all her teeth.
Fudge’s eye twitched irritably and he took a deep, steadying breath.
“Do you know why you’ve been called before the Wizengamot today, Mrs. Frizzle?” He asked, shuffling the papers from her file.
“I’m probably in trouble,” she smiled serenely, absentmindedly petting the lizard. “That is, after all, what the Wizengamot deals in!”
Fudge stifled a groan as he began leafing through her file. He didn’t even know where to begin. “Mrs. Frizzle, you are charged with no less than two hundred and thirty two counts of violating the Statute of Secrecy. Note that this is one count for each muggle known to be exposed to magic through your actions, and not a reflection of how many actions you have taken.” He drew out a page from the file. “Actions that include unlawful use of a sentience charm upon a muggle bus, unlawful use on that same bus of indestructibility charms and some sort of curse or hex that made the damn thing not only unresponsive and utterly unusable to anyone but yourself and your students, but also made us unable to decharm, move or even hide it, several unlawful uses of shrinking charms, bubble head charms, transfiguration, and at least one unregistered charm of your own making that allowed you to leave the planet entirely!” He slammed his hand down on the podium. “Do you have anything at all to say for yourself?!”
Mrs. Frizzle smiled politely. “Prime Minister,” she said calmly, “With all due respect, I have a question for you. Have you ever captured lightning in a bottle?”
“Have I- What?” Fudge spluttered, taken aback by her odd question.
“Have you ever captured lightening in a bottle?” She repeated, eyes flashing.
“Of course I haven’t, what sort of nonsense-” He began, but she threw up her hand and interrupted him.
“Muggles have. They’ve known how to use the same energy that comprises lightening to light their homes for over 100 years now. They can generate what amounts to lightening in a bottle with water, or the light and heat from the sun, or the wind. They can carry music in their pockets. They have been able, for nearly 30 years now, to leave the Earth and stand on the Moon.” Mrs. Frizzle straightened her dress. “I have, yes, been using my magic to help teach my students, but what I’ve been teaching them is science! It’s a shame that we don’t learn science as children the way muggles do. They know how the planets move! They know why the Earth turns! Muggles have a wealth of knowledge that rivals that of the centaurs, and we just,” She gestures around incredulously. “We just ignore it! Did you know they are able to not only capture movement, but also sound on film? It’s incredible!”
Fudge waved a hand to silence the incensed grumbling of the Wizengamot. “Mrs. Frizzle,” he hissed angrily. “It does not matter how many trinkets and non-magical work-arounds the muggles have made, regardless of how incredible you find them. Their ‘science’ is not on trial here, you are, for exposing muggles to magic!”
“Minister, you do know my students are all muggle borns,” Mrs. Frizzle said, perhaps a touch angrily, her usual enthusiasm for science replaced by an anger at tech marvels being referred to as ‘trinkets’.
“They’re not the only ones who have seen your…Magic Bus!” Fudge roared, slamming his fist on the podium and eliciting a dull rumble of approval from the Wizengamot. “Mrs. Frizzle, since you have failed to mount a defense, we will now take a vote. All in favor of conviction?”
A sea of hands shot into the air.
“All opposed?”
2 or 3 hands were placed waveringly in the air, then quickly fell.
“Mrs. Frizzle, you are found guilty of 232 counts of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. The wand you surrendered upon entering the Ministry will be kept, and you are fined in the amount of 1,160 galleons. If you cannot pay this fine, you will be given a job on low level staff or doing community service until such time as the debt is paid. Good day.” Fudge closed her file and handed it the the Junior Undersecretary, who ferried it back to the Hall of Records.
Mrs. Frizzle stomped out, angry but not ready to give up. Luckily for her, they hadn’t taken her backup wand. She had classes tomorrow, after all, and they couldn’t very well explore the world of pollen without a proper shrinking charm. She made a mental note to stop by her cousin Xenophillius’ house to pick up her backup to her backup. She loved his house. Shaped like a chess peice, can you imagine?
This is why the Wizarding World of Harry Potter is just so…..dumb.
I think you’re all forgetting the obvious… Mary Poppins.
“Back again, Mary?” Dumbledore twinkled at the woman in the
felt hat standing ramrod straight in front of the chair in the pit. She’d
always been one of his favourite students.
↪ A list of SENTENCES from George R. R. Martin’s novel A Clash of Kings, to be used and changed however you see fit. possible trigger WARNINGS for violent and sexual content, profanity, and alcohol.
❝ it is ill to keep a lady waiting. ❞
❝ under the sea, the birds have scales for feathers. ❞
❝ this is early to come calling, scarce past dawn. you should be snug in your bed. ❞
❝ i had bad dreams about the dragons. they were coming to eat me.❞
❝ so you see, there is nothing to fear. ❞
❝ if the gods are good, they will grant us a warm autumn and bountiful harvests, so we might prepare for the winter to come. ❞
❝ it is always summer under the sea. ❞
❝ i’ll see to your breakfast now. ❞
❝ they are clever, these birds. ❞
❝ i should have been told. i should have been woken. ❞
❝ i have climbed these steps so often i know each one by name. ❞
❝ look at me! ❞
❝ in the end words are just wind. ❞
❝ you could bring him no hope? ❞
❝ what am i to tell them? what must i do now? ❞
❝ it’s swords i need, not blessings. ❞
❝ the night is dark and full of terrors. ❞
❝ only children fear the dark. ❞
❝ i need no crown but truth. ❞
❝ you are too ill and too confused to be of use to me, old man. ❞
❝ i will not have you kill yourself in my service. ❞
❝ i fear the bottom of the sea. ❞
❝ where’d you get a blade like that? ❞
❝ go on, take it off him, i dare you. ❞
❝ hey, you gimme that sword. you don’t know how to use it. ❞
❝ might be i got your attention now. ❞
❝ hitting them won’t bring him back. ❞
❝ someone should kill him! ❞
❝ you look very lovely today, my lady. ❞
❝ who do you think will win the day’s honors? ❞
❝ did you hear? i’m to ride in the tourney today. ❞
❝ did i tell you, i intend to challenge him to single combat. ❞
❝ i lose! fetch me some wine. ❞
❝ what a man sows on his name day, he reaps throughout the year. ❞
❝ don’t be childish. ❞
❝ we’re children. we’re supposed to be childish. ❞
❝ i’m glad you’re not dead. ❞
❝ my lady, i am sorry for your losses. truly, the gods are cruel. ❞
❝ all sorts of people are calling themselves kings these days. ❞
❝ i’d guard that tongue of yours, little man. ❞
❝ what are you doing here? ❞
❝ it would seem that a welcome is in order. ❞
❝ a man after my own heart. ❞
❝ please, do let me be of service, in whatever small way i can. ❞
❝ how i have yearned for the sound of your sweet voice. ❞
❝ give me your support and i promise you, we will have ____ freed and returned to us unharmed. ❞
❝ you have always been cunning. ❞
❝ you will share all your plans and intentions with me before you act, and you will do nothing without my consent. do you understand? ❞
❝ you should have been at the feast. there has never been a boar so delicious. they cooked it with mushrooms and apples, and it tasted like triumph. ❞
❝ i hope he doesn’t kill anyone important. ❞
❝ need an escort? the talk is, the streets are dangerous. ❞
❝ i’m terrified of my enemies, so i kill them all. ❞
❝ lawless men are everywhere in this dark time, oh, yes. men with cold steel and colder hearts. ❞
❝ did you miss me? ❞
❝ you’ll think of me every time you go to bed. then you’ll get hard and you’ll have no one to help you and you’ll never be able to sleep unless you … ❞
❝ be quiet and kiss me. ❞
when most of your threads are multi para and have no muse for them
friendly reminder that I’m comfortable with MINOR godmodding if:
it’s genuinely in the interests of advancing plot (e.g. ‘Pass the screwdriver?’ and you can assume my muse passes the screwdriver over, or even just that your muse ended up with the screwdriver one way or another, without having to stop the reply altogether for my interjection)
it’s NOT my muse’s dialogue, inner or outer
it’s REASONABLE for my muse (e.g. if they’ve already made it quite clear the screwdriver is a sentimentally precious family heirloom or something, then the screwdriver might not reasonably change hands)
the reply isn’t solely about my muse’s actions, thoughts or feelings, but rather is about your muse, with reference to mine
you are willing to accept criticism & critique and change the reply if I can’t reasonably see my muse doing that
roleplaying, for me, is about exploring characters and worlds through story. Interaction with both the muse and the world, then, is vital, and I do not mind sacrificing a small thing from one to significantly advance the other. It’s always a good idea to talk to me if you’re uncertain and it will be easier once we know each other better, but I just wanted to put this out there so you lot know what I’m comfortable with. There’s a lot of ‘no godmodding whatsoever!!’ going around in this community and obviously, with big things, it’s a no-go – but I’m still more interested in the story.
Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse!
My muse(s):
Do I know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse
Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other
Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship
Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher – student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter – guarded | business partners | spy – infiltrated | manipulator – manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other
I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other
Feel free to: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens | send a meme | reblog this with your preferences – let’s find common interests!
If we are mutuals I might make super secret sneaky promos, slide you a random starter, make edits of your character, tag you in memes or other random postings, generally be a good RP partner.
Goldnwulf 