Harry Cooter and the Prisoner of Jazzkaban

party marauders kill the mooouse toniiight

"it's all smooth" declares sirius with a voice dripping, practically oozing with savvy charm.
"smooth what bloody what? merry? peanut butter? better crunchy i reckon" oblivious ron says with an oblivious voice oblivious to everything, including the fact that he was ginger.
"peanut butter? i'd rather munch on some peanis butter courtesy of that hot hunky blonde over there" harry responds, lightly indicating with a head jerking motion at a sneering skinny death eater whose ass he wanted to death eat.
sirius was hot he looked just like keanu reeves.
"I DONT WANT TO DRINK THE DEMENTORS PISS" harry cried as his soul got sucked out of his dick.
"i'm the godfather" sirius whispers with reggae undertones in the least culturally appropriating way possible. he was hot, like keanu reeves, just like keanu reeves, i just watched the matrix, keanu reeves is hot.
"i'm gonna give you an offer you can't refuse" sirius barked and he barked it because he was a furry. keanu reeves should've played sirius black. *in a fanfiction voice* merlin he's hot.
"mumbleghederuggledoodumdibblybumbooradley," hagrid grumbled.
"and i would've done it if it weren't for those meddling kids!" voldemort raged.
"VULVA WART!" Harry screeched as he whipped out his wand, realized he'd accidentally whipped out his dick, put the greasy member back amongst his robes, and whipped out his actual magic wand, and not his twenty first appendage that he fondly referred to as his special magic wand.
Harry knew how to stop voldemort. there was only one way and it was through the sweet vibrations of smooth jazz.
"Sweeeeeee deeedly deeee" sirius cooed, softly imitating the swaying booms of the saxophone. It practically turned his mouth into a sexaphone. Mm. Keasmooth reeves. Smooth. Smooooooooooth.
"boots and cuts and boots and cuts" voldemort aggressively beatboxed in retaliation. harry joined sirius and their strength doubled.
"bum, boom bum boom, bum boom bom bum" harry mimicked the deep murmur of a standing double bass.
"pooh chi pooh chi!" voldemort changed his incantationary measures to mimic the deadly beats of the latchkey kids.
"i reckon he's too powerful reckon, lemme help" ron noted.
"NO, LET ME!" Hermione unglued her mouth from ron's lips to butt in with her buttery guitarish jargon, making "nyow wowowoow bowowowow" exclamations amongst the jazzy backbeat. voldemort sputtered, defeated, when harry suddenly found that as he tried to bust a sweet move in retaliation his feet suddenly couldn't move. voldemort began to upstage him, busting beats he'd never heard before, and all the girls were like "ooh he's so cool!" and it sucked.