Bk4 plothole & fun fic

[flying_ford_anglia]

Original Yahoo! HPFG Header:
No: HPFGUIDX C4282
From: flying_ford_anglia
Subject: Bk4 plothole & fun fic
Date: 7/14/00 4:56 pm  (ET)

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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

<<(3) Your third plot hole does have me puzzled though. I was wondering
the same thing. Why not
 portkey Harry's slippers to big V's kitchen table>>

The cup was at the centre of a maze and likely to be touched only by
Harry Potter at around a certain time. Just about anything else that
was turned into a portkey would be:

(A) likely to be touched by someone else
(B) unlikely to be touched within a window of time

Scenario (A) ...

Poppy Pomfrey, after a day trying to snap Colin Creevey out of another
of Draco Malfoy's 'Hero Adorus' spells, leaned back on the window ledge
and fingered the Perceptive Pencil Harry had lent her that afternoon.

Yeareeeeeh!! Baroom! In a sudden whirl of light and sound, Poppy found
herself in a dim, dank graveyard, her rosy cheek pushed hard into mossy
ground. She heard footsteps approaching and from far away, above her head,
she heard a high, cold voice say,

'Kill the ... uh, um, big witch in the nurse's outfit? Damn!'

Scenario (B)

It was gone 2am and the graveyard was lit only by a gibbous moon. In
the blackened trees a few owls hooted mournfully.

'Oh, put me DOWN, Wormtail.' screeched a high, cold voice. 'I'm a fallen
evildoer not a My Little Pony[TM] for you to rock back and forth. Where
in Hecate's name is Potter? We've been here for five blithering hours'.

'My Lord,' Wormtail whimpered. 'I can't think what has happened. The
slice of ham was the designated portkey. Perhaps Potter pushed it to
the side of his plate?'

'Gah! Just put me down, you fool!'

Wormtail placed the tiny, bloody-eyed bundle on a nearby rock and glanced
round at the assorted Death Eaters. Most of them were sprawled on the
ground chatting and stretching; one or two were kicking their heels by
a knotty oak and looking at their watches.

Lucius Malfoy had pushed up his mask and was drawing upon a thin cheroot,
screwing his eyes:

'Can't you ... rise again in the morning, my Lord?' he drawled, yawning
widely. 'All this standing around is killing my hamstrings.'

The End

Er, well... that's my theory.

Neil