Harry Potter » Drabble set #3

cloudtobias5

This is inspired by Hellishlord’s Drabble he posted. I’m stepping out from my lurking to post this.

Anyway, here is a one shot. I post this in Hellishlord’s honour from giving me the idea.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. This un-beta, un-seen till today. After all this is for fun. And fanfiction is all fun and games until some one loses a soul. ~T

Things had become insane at this school since Dolores Umbridge had started teaching here. This latest attack on Harry was a testament to that. No one knows who did it but Harry had been found in the locker room after Quidditch practice, severely hexed and even physically assaulted. As it was, he was still unconscious almost a week later. To Hermione, that week had been extremely dreary.

Now, at lunch in the Great Hall, she idly picked at her food. Dumbledore had been extremely worried today. Hermione had even run into him by accident earlier, and he hadn’t even noticed her. He had hurried off, stating that it was a shame Harry was still out today of all days. Hermione might have been puzzled by that statement if she hadn’t been in a rush herself to get to the Hospital Wing.

A shadow fell over the her, and Hermione looked up from her barely touched meal, wondering who was standing over her. To her shock it wasn’t a person but the ceiling of the Great Hall. The Great Hall reflected the outside perfectly, and it was showing the thick, black storm clouds that were gathering with frightening intensity. Hermione glanced at Dumbledore. She was surprised to see him on his feet, his jaw hanging open in an expression of shock. By now, everyone else in the hall had looked up to see the sky darkening. So no one noticed the newcomer in the Great Hall entrance until he loudly slammed the doors shut with a flick of his hand.

Ah, and who might you be? Dumbledore said. The strange wore deep, midnight black robes. His hood was up, casting a deep shadow over his face. His hands were folded in front of him, neatly tucked up his sleeves. His robes were an inch off the ground and as he moved forward, Hermione could not hear his feet step on the stone in the now silent hall.

You know who I am, boy. The strange said. He came to stop in the middle of the hall, a few feet from Hermione. I have come for my grandson. It is time for his birth right, and the pact I made with the wife of my son expired exactly one minute ago. She has not fulfilled her end of the bargain Therefore, my grandson shall now be my new apprentice

The man cast a long suffering look upon the students and faculty in the hall.

I allow you all to know this, because you shall all bow before him. This place is his and mine now.

Now see here—! Umbridge roared, standing up. The stranger’s head whipped towards her and he removed his hands from his sleeves. His right hand flicked at her, displaying his pale hand with perfectly manicured finger nails that ended in sharp points. Chains shoot from the now completely black ceiling, and wrapped around Umbridge. She uttered short scream before she was yanked upward, disappearing into the ceiling. Everyone stared in shock as the man whirled around and began to leave. However, he paused next to Hermione.

Ah, Hermione Granger. The man said. He seemed to savor her name, like a piece of milky chocolate. My grandson Harry has great affection for you.

Harry, as in Harry Potter?! Hermione said in shock. This man was Harry’s GRANDFATHER?

Indeed. Walk with me child. We shall go wake my grandson, and then I shall have to take you with him. He began to walk from the hall and Hermione couldn’t help but follow. What joys he — and I — shall take from corrupting one so pure as you…

As the two left the hall Ron Weasley summed up what everyone else was thinking with two words.

Bloody Hell!

At Harry’s bedside, the man seemed to study Harry, his concealed face giving nothing away in the shadows. He flicked his left hand and book appeared. It had a six point star on it, and was bound with a chain, that had a small charm with the same star on the end. He placed this book in Harry’s hands, before placing a hand on the boy’s forehead.

Sir, who are you? Hermione asked from the other side. The man’s head turned to face her and Hermione gasped. In the darkness where shadow hide his face, two glowing red eyes now shone.

I have many names child. I was once known as the Morning Star. Throughout the ages of man I have been known as Baphomet, Malbogia, Hades, and many, many more. But based off what most of the world calls me now, you may call me Lu. And then after Harry deems you worthy to worry from the Bible Black, you will call me Master.

The man turned to face Harry as he took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. But only Harry can call me Grandfather.

Chem Prof

Dear Journal,

Hermione was right. As usual.

This afternoon Susan and Daphne repeated Hermione’s treatment for my stiffness. Same place. Same dress code. Same technique. Except they double teamed me.

They decided to make a competition out of it.

I won.

— Harry.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Am seriously considering overdosing on Chinese Tea. Daphne, Hermione and Susan walking around with bikini tops and cut-offs is too much.

Overheard Ron plotting about getting Hermione in bed. Nearly went dragon.

Lovegoods moved in. Luna not believing in existence of chimera and basilisk. Also caught her giving weird looks to self and Ron. Am not interested.

Fred and George getting on nerves.

Later,

— Harry.

Tommy King

Dear Journal,

Dear New Journal,

Noticed my first year Quidditch shirt was missing. Was later told Ginny was using it as a night shirt.

Going to ask Remus to Obliviate me of fact.

Later,

— Harry.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Nevermind. Tried it on Ron. Made him wet his pants and soil himself.

Mrs. Weasley acting suspicious. Must have house-imps tail her.

Have found that Hermione does not wear a bra. Neither do Bones and Greengrass.

Ginny said she looks like mum. Can’t see resemblance.

Later,

— Harry.

MagnaMorbius

Dear Journal,

Interesting day, today. Found out that Hermione and Daphne, fed up with Ron trying to touch them up, put his arms in muggle plaster casts. Susan charmed him so that he now walks round singing ‘I’m a little teapot’.

Susan’s designated a topless section of the garden. Amazed Mrs Weasley didn’t have a stroke when all that blood rushed to her head. Nipped off for a stroke myself; Susan was pointing at me, and her hands were behind my back.

Might ask Dobby to buy shares in Kleenex.

Hermione caught Ginny with bank statement, which she’d rolled in to a tube and was… urgh. Will ask Gringotts about muggle laminators.

Later.

— Harry.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Have sinking feeling girls know about dragon form. Hermione looking at me with that hurt look. Am panicking.

Remus stopped by. Had tea. Laughed his arse off when Ron walked by in Speedo.

Have found hydra in lake. Says it’s the Manor’s lifeguard. Apparently mum used to bring self to lake and hydra watched over us.

Luna seriously creeping me out.

Fred and George hit on my girls. Almost AK’ed them both.

Later,

— Harry.

Tommy King

When asked to comment on the Wesley Family tragedy Harry Potter (to many titles to write) said, Sad innit, gotta go write my journal, see ya

Cloneserpents

Dear Journal,

Overheard Molly giving Ginny pointers on how to bed a wizard. Must reinforce locks on door.

Found Ron doing inappropriate things with one of Hermione’s books. Laughed uproariously at his papercuts.

Overheard Bones, Greengrass, and Hermione discussing a boxer raid and a possible run-by groping. Must remove locks from door and hope for the best.

Later,

— Harry.

MagnaMorbius

Dear Journal,

Woke up early this morning. Felt Voldemort knocking on my Occlumency barriers; snake-face wanted to watch the girls shower.

Dumbledore was speaking to Molly, offering to officiate any marriage ceremonies she may be wanting to arrange. Decided that Aizagora and Vritra are looking hungry, and Molly would keep them fed for a while.

Shook head and told Voldemort to stop hitch-hiking.

Avoided Granger and Greengrass adults, only to receive owl from Amelia Bones, with letter of introduction and three pairs of manacles. Adults…

Seriously considering opening the bathrooms or making more of an effort to hide bank statements; Weasleys now need to be kept at bay with bubblehead charm.

Hermione caught Ginny masturbating with bank statement, and cast sticking charm. Fairly certain that I’ll just see if Gringotts can introduce an ATM, as there’s no way I’m getting close to that statement.

Later,

— Harry.

Harry gets a new guest.

pinkney.justin

I’ll try my hand at writing a short drabble story. I know I’m nowhere as good as writers like Seel’vor or Hellishlord this will suck but I’ll give it a try anyway. Hope you like it.

Harry wake up to the sound of two people screaming at each other. One was male, the other, female.

Hermione and Ron are fighting… Again. He thought as he went down stairs to check it out.

For fucks sake, what did Ron do NOW? He said to himself.

As he got closer he realized that the voices were not Hermione and Ron’s. He did know that the female voice had a French accent.

That’s got to be Fleur. No one else I know has a French accent. What is she doing here?

DAMN IT Fleur you are my women and you will do as I say. You are my property, do you understand? Shouted none other the Bill Weasley Fleur fiance.

Proppery is that all you think I am to you William Weasley? Fleur shouting back with rage. She was seething; she couldn’t believe what was coming out of William’s mouth.

You will do as I say now be a good little witch come with me to our bedroom. Said Bill with a perverted grin.

He did not seeing Fleur’s little sister Gabrielle glaring hatefully at him. Gabrielle never thought Bill was good for her sister anyway. Looked like she was right, too. She just wished Fleur knew it sooner than this. There was one person Gabrielle thought was perfect for Fleur. They were in his house right now. He was none other than her hero Harry Potter.

Ever since the Tri-Wizard Tournament Harry had been her hero. She wished she could see him again was thrilled when Fleur said that they were going to see him again.

Harry was an enigma to Fleur. She heard all the wonderful things about him. Especially from Gabrielle. She was amazed at how humble he was when she first met him. She knew how he hated fame and how he just wanted to be a normal wizard or as normal a wizard could be. Although Fleur did not admit it, She was happy to see him too. He would be a nice distraction from the ever increasing problems she and Bill were having.

Over time Bill became more and more controlling of her. He wanted her to be submissive to his every needs. Fleur was getting sick of it and hoped that Bill would stop. She now knew that Bill was showing his true colours. She was really disgusted with him. The Veela side of her was no different. Lately her Veela side was rejecting Bill’s advances. He just didn’t do it for her. Now Fleur knew how to control her Veela instincts but she became increasingly unsatisfied with Bill but she kept trying at soon as those words came out of his mouth she had enough of it.

No more The French vixen growled.

What?

You heard me William Weasley. The wedding’s off!

Yess! I knew he was no good for you! Shouted Gabrielle.

You’re right Gabrielle; he is no good Fleur said smiling at her little sister.

SMACK!!!!!

FLEUR! How dare you hit my sister you bastard! Shouted Gabrielle as she went up to him.

Stay out this little girl. He said then pushed her hard on the Floor. Then turned back to Fleur. Listen bitch you belong to me and I will do what I damn well please. Now you will give me what I want.

NEVER! Fleur screamed.

You’ll learn. he said as he went to hit her again but it was it interrupted.

Before he could respond he was frozen with fear as he stared at the man that stopped him.

Ok I’ll stop it right here. Hermione, Daphne, and Susan will appear soon. I’m sure you can guess who stopped Bill. This is my first try I’ll try to add some more tomorrow. I hope you all like it.

rob shell

Dear Journal,

Bad smells coming from Dumbledore and Snape.

Wonder why Snape is looking at bank statement.

Want to poke out Dumbledore’s eyes to get rid of damn twinkle.

Later,

— Harry.

Ron (Huh!) What is He Good For? (Absolutely Nothing!) Say it Again…

KafkaExMachina

The Sorting Hat nearly choked on its own bile after getting unceremoniously plopped down onto yet another Weasley’s head. It, as it was wont to do, took a few seconds to do a preliminary scan of the young lad.

Hmmm… The hat thought, lets see, too jealous and petty for Hufflepuff, too intellectually lazy for Ravenclaw, no more ambition than a stewed toad so no Slytherin for him… same, he’s nearly a mirror image of that Draco brat. Oookay, and scraps of bravery here? NO! We — have — a — loser! Ah crap, I’ve got another one. Oh well, thank Merlin for the Founder’s ‘family’ clause. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to sort that useless waste of sperm Draco either.

Gryffindor The hat shouted before it even reached Ron’s head. After all, it wouldn’t do to give the next student lice now, would it?

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Granger and Greengrass parents looking at me oddly. Heard something about ‘nobility’, ‘lucky daughters’ and ‘Super-Grandbabies of doom!’.

Note to self: Kill the idiot who sent verbal congratulations on achieving Lordship.

Dumbledore visited and started going on about accepting ‘young Ginevra’s affections’. Left room midway through.

Tom visited mind last night. Had tea and bitched about Snape.

Later,

— Harry.

MagnaMorbius

Taking a firm grip on the hilt, Harry swung the sword to one side. Gryffin… The sword doubled in length. Gryffin… The blade grew another foot. Gryffin… Another foot. Gryffindor, Ho!

Ginny Weasley popped up, wearing a micro-mini skirt, thigh high boots and a small top that covered her barely-there breasts. Someone ask for me?

Asked for you? Dean Thomas asked, looking puzzled, before realisation crossed his face. Oh, the Gryffindor Ho. No worries, you can go back to doing who you were doing.

The Gryffinwhore just nodded, before pulling out a bottle of lotion and smiling. Oh, Draco?

Where Harry is cured.

Lord of Bones

Hermione scowled as she spaced around the Room of Requirement, eyes blazing angrily.

Harry had been drugged.

With a love potion.

It had been rather obvious in hindsight; with the ridiculous monster-in-the-chest that he’d been complaining about and his sudden attraction to one Ginevra Weasley. On the other hand, Ginny wasn’t the only one to blame.

She was going to have words with dear Won-Won. Preferably after castrating him. And turning his intestines into maggots.

Get a grip, Granger.

Hermione twitched. Why are you here again, Greengrass?

The Slytherin smiled mockingly. Because it amuses me. Because I want a chance at Harry Potter, one of the few decent guys in school. Because I don’t mind sharing. Take your pick.

Hermione blinked at that, but chose not to ask. A polite cough drew her attention away from the smirking witch. Yes, Susan?

I just wanted to say I don’t mind sharing either, admitted the Hufflepuff. Besides Hermione, you’re the one who found about out about the cure for the Love Potion and asked us to come… although I’ve never heard of sex magic as a cure for love potions.

The Gryffindor blushed at that, but straightened as she heard the door to the Room open. Harry (with a somewhat glazed look in his eyes) and Ginny walked in…

… right into the paths of two Stunning Spells.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione bound Ginny with ropes, just as Daphne gently levitated Harry onto the bed within the runic circle.

And Susan bound his arms to the post.

That’s as far as I got — my inspiration died on me. It did have Harry rip the bonds, Daphne doing a strip-tease and Hermione… well, it’s fairly obvious.

Oh, and Ginny waking up midway through.

It’s up for grabs, as usual.

David Stanley

Dear Journal,

Found spell that causes target to experience 72 hours in the space of a few seconds.

Not sure what to do with it yet, maybe ask Bones, Granger and Greengrass.

Later,

— Harry.

Lord Bilbanes

Dear Journal,

I am finding Mrs. Weasley’s continued attempts to saddle me with her spawn increasingly annoying. I am considering arranging an accident involving her and one of my manor’s guardians.

Even after being kneed in the baby-maker, Ron is still trying to ‘woo’ Hermione. She is now aiming blasting curses at his head whenever he approaches her.

Later,

— Harry.

Nick Jinks

Dear Journal,

Am considering mailing fake statements for Female Weasleys to read in hope they will leave me alone.

Found Ron reading Hermione’s old homework essays with hand down trousers. Have considered mentioning to Hermione where her old assignments have gone in hope of her cursing remaining ones.

Later,

— Harry.

Seel’vor

Dear Journal,

Bank statement missing from delivery owl. Suspect Weasley involvement.

Hermione now staring at me every time I walk into a room. Why is her gaze always 2 feet below my eyes?

Bones and Greengrass wear skimpy outfits. Had to send Dobby out for fresh box of Kleenex and bottle of lotion.

Hermione looks really good in bikini. Really good.

Ron still not woken up. Don’t really care.

Later,

— Harry.

Chem Prof

Dear Journal,

Last night I finally woke up during one of my ‘dreams’. Or, I should say the girls allowed me to wake up. I don’t think I ever want to sleep again.

I woke up to find three naked girls in my bed. Susan was snuggled up under my right arm, rubbing her breasts against me. Daphne was doing the same thing on my left side.

Hermione was sitting on top of me. She had just finished making me as hard as I’ve ever been in my life. She’s getting very good at that.

Then she told me that she’d decided she was ready to give her virginity to me, and thought I might want to be awake for it.

I agreed. I may have made some dumb decisions in my life, but not this time.

She raised up a little, put me in position, and lowered herself onto me.

I think I must have died and gone to heaven.

After I regained my senses, Hermione announced that tomorrow night would be Daphne’s turn. Then Susan the night after.

Is there any way to turn time forward instead of backward? Say, about 12 hours?

Oh, yeah, one more thing. Hermione says after Susan it will be her turn again, and they’ll just keep rotating every night.

My life is very, very good right now.

Later,

— Harry.

Kinsfire

Dear Journal,

Boxer thefts continue. Confused, because Dobby insists that Ginny not boxer thief.

Ron shot down in flames by Hermione, but not sure if he realises yet. Starting to wonder how I made friends with someone so dumb.

Grr. Ron has unerring food sense — pocky missing!

Out for redhead murder,

— Harry.

Nick Jinks

Dear Journal,

Woken by Hedwig this morning carrying a bloody ear in her beak. Have sneaking suspicion Weasley women are getting beaten by the bird whenever they walk around the grounds after attempted cursing of bird previously.

Ginny suspiciously absent for most of the day. Eventually showed up in slightly modified 1930’s swim costume. Now shows her calves rather than covering her legs to the ankle. Daphne, Susan and Hermione were playing Volleyball in the pool. I joined in to even the teams.

Girls explained it was actually called Extensive contact no tops tackling allowed Pool Volleyball Have found new favourite hobby better than flying next to the girls shared bedroom window under invisibility cloak at night.

Molly and Ron have been avoiding each other like Neville and Snape. Have considered locking them in single room with a variety of sharp objects and muggle weapons.

After sealing all the bathrooms, girls now have showers in the master en-suite. All walk in wearing sleepwear and walk out wearing towel or now wet sleepwear. I rarely get out of bed before they are all finished.

Molly, Ron and Ginny all starting to smell. I suspect they have all been reading my bank statements and thus all suffering from curse. Have placed Ginny’s attempted porn in Molly’s cookbooks and Ron’s quidditch magazines. Heard screaming from far end of grounds, am considering posting rest of shots to Daily Prophet, Witch Weekly and Hogwarts Student and Staff Newsletters.

Toodles,

— Harry.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Ron woke up and attempted to woo Hermione (and Bones and Greengrass) by wearing tight Speedos. Almost died laughing.

Ginny wore swimsuit. Nearly passed out from horror.

Bones and Greengrass now following Hermione’s gaze. Am confused.

Found Mrs. Weasley reading bank statement. Felt murderous but didn’t react.

Later,

— Harry.

Hogwarts Rules & Regulations

Lord of Bones

Severus Snape is no longer allowed to smile.
The last incident resulted in the hospitalisation of the entire 4^th year and below.

It is forbidden to ask Albus Dumbledore if ‘he can still get it up’.
Telling impressionable first years otherwise is wrong.

Never, ever, EVER say ‘a cat is fine, too’ in front of Professor McGonagall.

Harry Potter is prohibited from telling everyone that Dolores Umbridge is a magical crossbreeding experiment gone haywire.

Even if it’s probably true.

‘Hogwarts: A History’ is not a magically disguised version of the Kama Sutra.

It is forbidden to ask Headmaster Dumbledore if he would prefer prune juice to lemon drops.

This means you, Mr. Potter.

Mr. Finnegan is not a leprechaun.

Asking any female in Slytherin house on whether ‘Slytherins swallow’ is heavily discouraged.

Susan Bones is not to be referred to as Ms. Hooters.

Only Harry can call me that — S. Bones

James Potter blinked blearily, struggling to shake off the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. Gently, he disentangled himself from his fast asleep wife, pressing a kiss against her lips before getting out of bed.

Under normal circumstances (it was a Sunday, after all), he would’ve stayed in bed a few more hours, woken up Lily and shagged her senseless twice before gleefully levitating his sleeping teenage son over the lake and dropping him in. Unfortunately, normal circumstances didn’t apply to this situation.

He looked longingly at the warm sheets of his bed and at Lily’s even warmer body. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, he reasoned before shaking himself out of it. Best to get this over with before the temptation got too overwhelming.

Still grumbling, he showered and dressed, affixing his family ring to his right forefinger before tip-toeing out of the room and gently shutting the door behind him. He opened his son’s room door, checking up on Harry and ruffling his son’s hair, watching a lock of inky black obscure his child’s scar.

Sighing (dammit, he wanted sleep and Lily!), he left his son’s room and made his way out of the manor (pausing only to scratch Aizagora’s mane) and disapparated for Gringotts. Idly, he wondered what Molly Weasley wanted. The last time he’d seen her was when that news about Harry simultaneously dating the Greengrass heiress and that brilliant Muggle-born got out.

He snickered at that. When Harry broke the news, Lily had gone all teary-eyed and proclaimed that her baby boy was all grown up, Sirius had just stared at him with a disbelievingly envious look and Remus had just smiled.

And he’d taken his son drinking. Dammit, if the boy was old enough to land catches like them, he was old enough to get drunk with his dear old dad!

As for Molly, she’d caught Harry snogging his girlfriends (at the same time) in Grimmauld. The fuss she’d kicked up was horrendous; frankly, he couldn’t see the problem. Neither he nor Lily had any problems with Harry’s relationships.

He shook his head and jogged up the stairs of Gringotts, meeting Sirius on the way before being led to where Molly was waiting.

Oh, bloody hell, muttered Sirius. James could understand why. He had a sinking feeling about why he hd been called.

Lord Potter, began Molly. I would like to arrange a betrothal contract between your son and my Ginevra.

… But not her head of family. Interrupted James in the tone he used when a much younger Harry had done something silly and needed a 5yr old explanation.

The head of family is the only person who can make such arrangements. So where is Arthur?

Molly huffed and began to inflate into one of her trademark rants. James cut her off at the knees. Turning to the Goblin seated next to Molly at the table.

Morning James, no need for such formality. In my 70 years of working with the Potter estate I have worked for your grandfather, your father and yourself, so don’t butter me up.

Hey, it isn’t my fault that your seat was replaced by a high chair during our last meeting, it was Padfoot James started explaining.

Hey Sirius started. It was you who added the bib and baby food with animated spoon. James threw Sirius a dirty look, while Grabrack rolled his eyes.

Right… Dragging it out. Shaking his head at the antics of the Potter Patriarch, he continued unabated.

Moving swiftly onwards. I am here in my capacity as the Potter representative of Gringotts, who usually organize betrothals and such.

So you are here effectively as a neutral party in this negotiation. As Harry is not of age, the Potter estate is not part of this negotiation by default.

The Goblin smirked at the shocked looked the Weasley women quickly donned. Quickly activating a verbalism quill to record the conversation, he continued. Correct. As young Harry is still in school, congratulate him on his marks for me will you? According to the public reports, he took between 1^st and joint 2^nd in every class, 2^nd only to one of his rather pleasant partners…

Anyway, as he is still in school, he doesn’t have a job and as such the majority of his possessions and monies are still the property of the Potter patriarch, yourself, furthermore…

Wait! Molly interrupted the goblin. What do you mean Not part of the negotiation? Harry is the heir to the estate and Potter Lordship…

But James is the current and valid Lord of the family and head of estate, so the Potter finances are the property of himself and Lady Potter, Lily.

The Trust Vault Harry has access too for example, while rather impressive for a young man, is still part of the Potter estate portfolio and as such under the direct control of James, should he choose to exercise that control.

Grabrack explained this is a tone that suggested he really didn’t like these women. Sirius had a similar look on his face, and James failed to hide a yawn.

Molly looked aghast. Well then, the estate and lordship must be included if he is to marry Ginny.

Since James was bordering on sleepy-land, Grabrack conjured a pillow, which Sirius placed under his head. James sank into it with a sign as immediately began snoring. Sirius cast a silencing charm around him.

How dare he! He must continue the negotiations! Molly shouted in her shrill tone.

Actually… began Grabrack Since Sirius is both Godfather to Harry, and de-facto heir to the estate in the event of the unforeseen incapacity or death of James, Harry, Lily and any future heirs, then he can negotiate on behalf of James Potter.

And I… immediately capitalizing on the chance to take the Red headed fools down a peg or two. Will cease this negotiation immediately if you raise your voice, command, demand or otherwise irritate me further. James needs his sleep, I haven’t gone to bed yet and we are expecting guests at lunchtime.

At this Molly paused, while Grabrack smirked at the obvious bait placed before the idiots.

Who are you expecting? Ginny demanded, speaking for the first time since the start of the meeting, questioning who would dare visit her estate without permission. The fact it was nether her business to ask nor place to speak in such a negotiation was missed by both herself and mother.

Sirius double checked the silencing charm was in place and hid a snigger. He was going to enjoy this.

Why, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, with who we get along famously. They’re beyond delighted that their daughter has found such worthwhile partners in Harry and Daphne.

Lord and Lady Greengrass are also visiting, they get along brilliantly with the Potters, and love the way Daphne has broken out of her shell around Hermione and the Potter’s … and the occasional Marauder.

Sirius finished this statement with a polite smile to the Weasley women, who were sporting faces as red as their hair. Grabrack had now cast a one way silencing charm around himself, and was currently laughing at the spectacle, while listening to Sirius’s explanation.

What?! Molly and Ginny both screamed loud enough to break the charm around James and bring him back to the waking world in a rather un-gentle way.

Years of Defence and Combat training, gained from his parents, privately hired tutors and Hit-wizard instructors reacted before James’s consciousness could catch up. This caused James to nail both Weasley women with a custom Potter combat spell, numbing the tongue and sealing the lips. The effect of which stopped the Weasley women speaking, yelling or more importantly, forming verbal spells.

James then woke up more gradually, with both Ginny and Molly quiet. Without speaking, he took the several sheets of parchment offered by Grabrack and glanced through.

After he finished, he looked at the Weasley women and smiled politely, passing the parchment back to Grabrack and muttering the counter-curse.

Well then, what are you offering my son and family then? questioned James. Sirius and Grabrack both blinked at this apparent start of the negotiation, but were re-assured by the glint in James eye.

Molly quickly adopted what she thought of as a confident, knowledgeable and determined look. In reality, she looked like a large, red headed hippo trying to play a harmonica.

Hermione and Daphne won joint first place in the graduation ball awards for beauty. The shot of the pair of them in their evening wear and Harry’s arms sold for a stickle a piece. It raised enough money worldwide to double the size of the British Auror force or increase the budget of St. Mungo’s by 5 fold.

Daphne is featured in several fashion magazines, both muggle and magical and Hermione was part of the charity photo-shoot for St-Mungo’s children’s ward last year. Witches from all over the Wizarding world applied, but they actually asked Hermione, she didn’t even apply for a position.

Ginny on the other hand has no such recognition. Nowhere in either the magical or muggle world. So tell me, why is Ginny more beautiful than either of my son’s current partners?

Molly built up for a rant, but James and Sirius simply stood and started for the door. Molly quickly turned down to a low simmer.

Ginny on the other hand, looked beyond angry. So what if they had worldwide recognition for their beauty? So what if they were on the wall of every teenage boys room across the magical world? So what if their attractiveness had built a hospital ward or made the world safer? She was prettier than either of those sluts!

James was now looking very bored, and Sirius pulled out a pack of playing cards. Anything else Molly, or can I go home? James said with yet another yawn.

Ginny is smart and capable of being a good pureblood wife… again James cut her off.

Hermione, Daphne and Harry took the highest OWL scores for the past 220 years, surpassing Albus, Tom Riddle and every single teacher, auror, healer, witch and wizard for generations across not just Britain, but the world.

So, again, how is Ginny smarter than either of these two? And as for being a proper pureblood wife, if you are the definition of a proper wife, I would force my son to stay single. On the other hand, Daphne can trace her linage back before the founding of the Ministry or Gringotts.

I think we are done here. James and Sirius both stood, shook Grabrack’s hand and headed out the door, parchment in hand. Molly and Ginny both sat there, boiling with anger.

James headed back to the manor, while Sirius stayed at the Alley, waiting for the Twins shop to open.

When he arrived at the Manor, he duplicated the parchment and placed one copy on his son’s bedside table. The other he placed on his bedroom desk, waiting for his wife to read.

He undressed, climbed into bed, pulled his wife close and drifted off to sleep thanking the gods that his son had found partners as good as his own…

James thought for a moment and said. I’ll write the contract when the Prophet publishes verified photos of Satan ice-skating to work.

Molly? What’s going on? You know Harry’s already got a girlfriend. Two of them, in fact.

Lord Potter, my offer is a good one; the Weasleys are Purebloods, going back over 20 generations. We have fought for the light for the family’s entire history. We offer a substantial dowry in magical lore in exchange for a very reasonable bride price. Molly smiled, the look of a predator that has got the prey cornered. The inclusion of Weasley blood in to the Potter family will enable your grandchildren to be considered Purebloods, in spite of any recent… degradation of the line.

James felt himself ready to reach for his wand, before Sirius grabbed his wrist under the table. And your terms, Matriarch Weasley?

Harry and Ginny will be married during the summer after her graduation. They will provide an heir within 2 years of the marriage. The marriage shall take place at Potter Manor, which shall be given to the couple as a wedding present. You will pass your lordship over to your son no later than 10 years after the date of the wedding. Ginny will be given equal access to Harry’s vaults, as befitting a Pureblood wife. The Weasleys will provide our entire history of fertility magic, in exchange for a very reasonable bride price of only 10 million galleons.

James couldn’t help himself; he was so tempted to jump to his feet and start blasting anything with red hair that was within 50 feet of him. Thank goodness Lily’s still in bed! Matriarch Weasley, obviously such a generous offer cannot be accepted straightaway, without a firm consultation with my family, considering the ramifications and benefits of such a union. I shall consider your proposal, and shall notify you of my decision within one week.

Consultation? The Pureblood Lord of an Ancient and Noble House needs to consult with a mud— Molly coughed, clearing her throat and hoping nobody noticed her slip; they did. I understand, James. I’m sure Harry dear will be thrilled.

James nodded before immediately leaving the bank, almost sprinting to the apparition point in Diagon Alley before arriving back at Potter Manor, tearing through the halls of his manor until he found Lily lying in bed, working her way through the Daily Prophet.

James, She said, without looking up. I don’t know what’s bothering you, but stop grinding your teeth.

Woman, James. Sirius, who’d walked a little more sedately through the alley, had just arrived.

She’s decided that, for a bride price of 10 million Galleons, she’ll permit Harry and Ginny to marry, providing that we turn the manor over to them, I cede the Head of House title to Harry in 13 years’ time, and baby Weasel has full access to Harry’s vaults.

By this point, Lily had thrown her paper to the floor, and was joining James in a teeth-gnashing fest. Sirius was impressed. If we had Harry here, we could make it a family event.

The Weasley’s entire collection of fertility magic, and the opportunity to repair the degradation of the line.

Dobby! Lily’s shout echoed through the house, summoning the House Elf; Lily had some serious steam to work off, and the elf was the perfect way to do it. The small elf appeared with a quiet pop. Pull!

Dobby threw a conjured plate in the air, which was immediately blasted in to fragments. 30 plates later, Lily put down her wand, and Dobby disappeared, a small smile on his little face; he would never admit it, but it was fun throwing plates around.

I understand your concerns, Lily, James, but you should ask Harry; he’s the one who would have to go through with it. Sirius was the voice of reason, which amazed even him.

Harry awoke due to a knocking on his bedroom door. Fighting his way clear of the duvet, he saw his dad sticking his head round the door. Dad?

OK. Thanks. James nodded once, and disappeared. Harry shook his head before closing his eyes, images of a brunette and raven-haired beauty holding him down and doing unspeakable (but bloody enjoyable) things to him.

Well, that’s decided. Harry rejects their offer, after a concise and careful consideration of all possible ramifications and consequences.

Excellent. Lily had a look of fierce satisfaction on her face. So, what do we say to the Weasleys?

Sirius looked Molly in the eye. Mrs. Weasley, you do of course know that both the Prewett and Weasley families swore an oath of allegiance to the Black family?

You know that I’m the current Head of the Black family and that, as I have no intention to marry, Harry will be the next Head of the Black family?

Well, if you choose to pursue this nonsense of a marriage contract, I will have no choice but to name the Prewett and Weasley families as oath-breakers and reclaim the land and money the Black family awarded them for their oaths of allegiance.

The smile on Sirius’ face when the Weasley women fainted didn’t disappear for two weeks.

Harry read the book wide-eyed, struggling to memorize all the locations and drawings in it.

Remus had given it to him last week, just before school term began, saying Sirius would’ve wanted him to have it. Now, he couldn’t even lift his face from it.

Hermione fumed, before releasing it in an explosive sigh. Gently, she tried again. Harry, please, talk to me. I know you find that book interesting, but you haven’t said a word to me or Ron all week. Please, can’t we talk?

Harry looked up, before turning back to the book and then back to Hermione. I wonder…

O-okay Harry, she complied, holding out her right hand. He took it, carefully stroking the spots outlined in the book.

Harry, what are you — oh — oh god — sweet Circe — please — Daghda Almighty — Oh god, Harry! she screamed, clamping her legs shut and collapsing against him.

She looked up, a look of dazed pleasure on her face before snuggling against him, purring contentedly. Harry watched wide-eyed as she nuzzled his neck lovingly, murmuring So gooood… before falling asleep against him.

Carefully he laid her on the couch, conjuring a blanket and draping it over her before walking away, still wide-eyed. Best book ever!

Yet another old snippet. p2281 Lord of Bones

I posted this in TFF two months ago in the Warden of Azkaban thread. I’ve since changed it (into a possible DarkLord!Harry’s pets scene). It’s a bit unpolished, but anyway…

The Dark Lord groaned, his head falling back to hit the back of his chair as the pretty Muggleborn witch sucked him off dilligently. Hermione smiled around the cock in her mouth, bobbing her head to match the tempo of his thrusts while attempting to take in as much of Harry’s cock as she possibly could.

Finally, she pulled away, leaving a farewell kiss on his cockhead. Harry groaned in disappointment.

Hermione tugged forward the beautiful brunette that had been watching the whole thing with wide eyes. Service him! growled Hermione. Hesitantly the brunette leaned forward, her tongue gently lapping at the head.

Harry pulled Hermione onto his desk, keeping her chest at eye-level while he laced his hand in the cock-sucking witch’s hair, gently pushing her head forward. Green eyes met brown.

Ordering my pet around, Hermione? That’s a punishable offence here, growled the Dark Lord, tugging the Muggleborn forward. Should I give you to Daphne for a while? he questioned, fondly petting the kneeling brunette’s hair as she hungrily sucked him off.

But Harry, pouted the brown-haired woman, tugging open her white blouse. No buts, Hermione, hissed the green-eyed man, pulling away her bra. They are mine to command, not yours. He leaned forward and took a pink nipple into his mouth, suckling harshly as he thrust into Daphne’s hot mouth. Hermione moaned softly at the sensation, relishing the feel of Harry’s tongue against her sensitive nipple.

Harry pulled away with a final harsh suck. In fact, I have just the punishment for you. Get up, pet.

Reluctantly, Daphne pulled away from her master’s saliva-soaked dick, blue eyes looking inquiringly into green. He yanked her upwards, seating her on his cock, drawing a cry of ‘Master!’ Hermione glared angrily. Harry! I wanted you to fuck me!

Get on your knees.

What?!

Get on your knees. Now. he said quietly, his green eyes boring into Hermione’s brown. Hermione felt her knickers get even wetter at the Warden’s blazing eyes and commanding tone.

Yes, Harry, she whispered meekly, getting off the desk and kneeling on the floor. Her gaze was fixed on the junction of Daphne’s thighs, where the former Slytherin was impaled on Harry’s prominent cock.

You’re going to pleasure Daphne, Hermione, while I fuck her, Harry commanded, already thrusting into Daphne’s tight pussy. The black-haired woman moaned as she bounced on Harry’s lap, whimpering out encouragements like Harder, Master! and Fuck your little slut, Master!

Hermione set out to do her job. The curly-haired woman nipped at the female prisoner’s clit, alternating between sucks and licks to Daphne’s clit and lapping at Harry’s cock and balls when he pulled back for a thrust. Daphne’s yowled as an orgasm ripped through her, tilting her head back and offering her lips to Harry. The Dark Lord kissed her hungrily, their tongues mating as his thrusts became more erratic.

He broke the kiss. You’ve been a good girl today, pet. Where do you want your reward? he whispered into her ear. Daphne stood up (eliciting an indignant Hey! from Hermione) and took her master’s large cock in her mouth, deepthroating him before pulling away, jacking him off frantically in front of her open mouth. Share, pet, Harry reprimanded gently, watching Hermione’s eager look. The Slytherin pouted but obeyed.

Ropes of white-hot cum shot out of Harry’s cock, leaving streaks of white on the witches’ faces. Hermione lunged forward, lapping at the spurting erection before Daphne took it back into her mouth, swallowing the release before releasing Harry’s still hard erection.

My turn!said Hermione gleefully, straddling Harry. She tugged aside her knickers and took Harry’s cock in her inch by inch, gently kissing her husband. This time, it wasn’t frantic, instead becoming slow lovemaking. Daphne leaned forward to lap at her master and his lover’s joined parts, relishing the mixed tastes.

From that day on, Daphne would be Harry’s favourite pet.

strange_drabble>The strangest drabble just came to me… p2309 KafkaExMachina

Garglecrank rubbed his clawed hands together with glee. This was his absolute favourite part of his job as a Gringotts Account Manager. He smiled toothily at the young man sitting across the desk from him. Even better, the young man was accompanied by his closest female companions. He internally cackled with unholy glee.

Mr. Potter, Garglecrank began, I brought you here today to discuss the consequences of your actions, he spat out the word, earlier this year. He glared at Harry and his bushy-haired companion. They both cringed. Seeing as how Miss Granger does not have a vault with us, am I correct in assuming that you are willing to assume the full penalties for your actions? Garglecrank noted that Miss Granger was most displeased with Harry’s immediate agreement. Very well. Due to the… extenuating circumstances surrounding your actions, Gringotts has decided to forgo any further actions against you so long as you are willing to compensate the bank for the full damages. Garglecrank smirked inside. The accounting department, having heard about Mr. Potter’s likely actions, had already drafted the bill. His smile widened at Harry’s terse nod. Excellent. I assume you wish to know your new balance? Garglecrank frowned at Harry’s impassive shrug. He noted that the red-haired female seemed rather put-out, but his bushy-haired companion merely whispered something into Mr. Potter’s ear.

Alright, Harry said after nodding to Hermione, I don’t have any secrets between these two. Go ahead and tell me.

Garglecrank smiled. He couldn’t wait to see the crushing despair fall over Mr. Potter once he found out how little of his inheritance was left after the damages. The best part of it all: The bank bought the dragons and the materials from wizards, who promptly deposited all that beautiful gold back with Gringotts. Garglecrank said another silent prayer of thanks to the brilliance of bygone Chieftains. After totaling the damages and assessing the proper fees, you are left with fifty galleons, seventeen sickles and… he paused dramatically, twenty-two knuts.

Garglecrank nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise over Harry’s reaction. He wasn’t an expert in human facial behaviour, but he’d crushed quite a few dreams in his day, and he was absolutely positive that the happy smile on the young mans face wasn’t a sign of misery. He glanced at Harry’s companions. Miss Granger seemed almost… amused. He almost gave a sigh of relief at the red-headed girls reaction. ‘Ah, now THERE’S the crushing misery I wanted!’ The goblin thought with relish. ‘Perhaps she’s the only one who understands the fiscal difficulties Mr. Potter now faces?’

Harry smiled. Is that all then? Harry asked, happily (and oblivious to Ginny’s horrified demeanour).

Garglecrank grimaced. Mr. Potter, perhaps you don’t understand exactly what this means…

Harry shrugged. Sure I do. It means I’m poor, and I’ll have to work for a living. He said contentedly.

Hermione smiled, adding in Just like everybody else, right Harry? Harry beamed back at her.

Exactly, he concluded happily.

Garglecrank felt a sickening weight settle in his gut. ‘He… he doesn’t care?’ The teller thought in horror. He looked at the red-headed girl, desperate for some sanity. Happily, she seemed far more grounded than the other two lunatics.

Harry… Ginny said slowly, shakily. Harry… how can you be so calm.

Harry blinked. He stared at Ginny like she’d grown a second head, and a rather hideous one at that. What do you mean, Ginny? It’s just money.

Just money, Ginny echoed dumbly. Garglecrank couldn’t help but agree. Just money, she began to screech. Harry, this is horrible! What about my… I mean our dreams? How are we going to have a happy life together when, when… oh Harry this is terrible!

Harry’s face screwed up in displeasure. Ginny, I can’t believe I’m hearing you say this. Look at your parents, they don’t money, they have love.

Love doesn’t buy me diamonds! Ginny screeched. Love doesn’t pay for vacations or nice furniture or the latest fashions! Garglecrank nodded along with her. It was a breath of refreshing sanity in a floundering sea of misplaced priorities.

Harry looked utterly disgusted. Is that how you really feel? He asked quietly.

Garglecrank perked up. He’d heard wizards use that tone of voice. Maybe he’d get some delicious suffering after all!

Ginny, on the other hand, was oblivious. Of course it is! She screeched. Who’s going to pay for our wedding now? I’ve planned it since I was a child! We were going to have hundreds of guests, the most beautiful catering and decorating, it was going to be the most talked about event ever, like some sort of dream come to life! How can you hope to provide for me now? Ginny continued to rant, working herself into a greater and greater frenzy. Garglecrank nearly started to dance a jaunty little jig at the shock, horror and sheer agony painted on Harry’s face.

Thank you for telling me how you really feel, Harry said stonily. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about how I’m going to pay for your wedding anymore. We are through. He stood up, and bowed to Garglecrank. Thank you for your time, Garglecrank. I must say this meeting has been most… enlightening.

The pleasure was all mine, Garglecrank said honestly. One more thing, he said, pulling a small box out from his desk. We found this in Dumbledore’s vault. Evidently it was misplaced during the will reading. Ginny’s eyes grew wide with hope. Harry opened the box, and chuckled at the brightly coloured woollen socks inside. He glanced at Hermione, and they shared a watery glance while fondly remembering their eccentric Headmaster. Ginny, on the other hand, was crushed. Harry grimaced at his former girlfriends behaviour.

Is that all? He asked Garglecrank pointedly. Garglecrank nodded. Harry swept out of the room, followed by Miss Granger. The red-haired girl was bawling something about how her dreams would never come true. In the strangest moment of clarity, Garglecrank felt a deep kinship with this tiny waif of a witch, who’s motivations and plots were so… goblin-esque.

He reached into his desk and pulled out a hanky. Walking over to the sobbing girl, he handed it to her and placed a clawed hand on her shoulder for comfort. There there, young one, I’m sure you’ll find a better mate… one who has his head strapped on in the right direction. He rubbed her back comfortingly. Ginny blew her nose noisily, and tearfully looked up at the goblin.

Really? She asked tearfully.

Garglecrank nodded. Oh yes. In fact, perhaps we can make a deal. You see, now that the Potter family fortune is no more, I find myself in need of a new account to manage. So, if I point you in the right direction… Garglecrank trailed off.

Ginny smiled through her tears. Then once I’ve secured my dreams, I’ll remember those who made them possible?

Garglecrank smiled. It was so nice to see that the child could outshine their parents. The Weasley account had been a laughing stock amongst the goblins for generations.

‘Bah,’ Garglecrank thought in disgust, ‘give me the clink of galleons over sappy family any day!’

Later, Harry and Hermione shared a butterbeer at Tom’s bar. Hermione sat unusually close to her best friend, making little comforting noises and rubbing his back. Harry idly fidgeted with contents of the box Dumbledore left him. He stopped when he felt something rock-like in one of the socks. Hermione looked at him while he peeked inside the sock.

Harry gasped.

Harry, what is it? Hermione asked, concerned. Harry’s reply was interrupted by a joyful phoenix-song and a flash of fire. Fawkes looked at the dumbfounded pair with avian amusement before depositing a letter in front of the two. With a final triumphant trill, the magnificent bird vanish in a gout of flame.

With shaking hands, Harry unfurled the parchment and read the letter, Hermione reading alongside.

My dear boy,

I just wanted you to know again how horribly sorry I am for what I’ve done. I know it’s a poor recompense, but I have left you this final gift. Once again I must admit that I mislead you for the good of all wizard kind. I, and Nicholas, felt the idea that an eleven-year-old boy, no matter how incredible, could keep such an important secret quite impossible. So I lied to you, Harry. The Stone wasn’t destroyed. My dear friends are enjoying their new lives, far far away from magical Britain, quite content that the world believes the stone lost. Oh dear me, forgive an old man for worrying you. No Harry (and, I suspect — and dearly hope — Hermione), this is not the only Stone. Nick whipped up a spare some scant months after I took the original under my protection. He told me to give this to you, ‘for sentimental purposes.’ I heartily agree. I know you have little use for wealth, but believe me when I say it will bring some extra comfort for the many, many years you have ahead of you.

With everlasting love and regrets,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts

Order of Merlin — First Class

Supreme Mugwump of the I.C.W.,

and most quite smelly lump of rotten flesh.

P.S. I do hope you kept the Elder Wand. It won’t do anybody any good just lying with my body.

P.P.S. Remember that talk we had, your second year? After I found you doing you-know-what to you-know-who? The advice I gave then is still as relevant (and ignored, it seems) now as it was then. Take it from a man who wasted his life loving a horrible horrible person for all the wrong reasons. Tell her, for Merlin’s sake. Stop being such a pussy.

P.P.P.S. Yes, Hermione, if you are reading this, I did call Harry a pussy. Maybe if he grows a pair he’ll tell you why. And for God’s sake, dump the damn ginger! He’s still the lazy little shite from first-year, insulting a brilliant young witch because he didn’t want to overcome his own ignorance. Really, the Deluminator should have given you a pretty serious clue… I knew he’d abandon you during your greatest trials, as he’d always done before. People like him don’t change, not until they lose everybody. Sometimes, not even then.

P.P.P.P.S. Oh dear, this is starting to look like a letter sent by a twelve-year-old girl. Harry, I will say again how very grateful I am to have ever met you, and how proud I am of the wizard you’ve become. Still, I mean it. Stop being such a pussy.

Hermione’s eyes widened. Harry… what does he mean about you-know-what to you-know-who and why did he tell you to stop being a, she blushed prettily as she whispered, pussy?

Harry blushed. Er. Nothing. It’s nothing.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. Harry James Potter, it is most certainly not nothing.

Harry chuckled nervously. No, really, it’s nothing. Just an in-joke, like the socks.

Honestly Harry! Just tell me already! Hermione said, annoyed at her friends evasions.

Harry shook his head.

You really are a pussy, aren’t you? Hermione asked mischievously.

Hey! Harry said, shocked at Hermione’s language.

Hermione shrugged. Well, Dumbledore was a great and wise wizard, so I suppose if he said you are acting like a pussy…

Harry flushed. I s’rt ‘f… He mumbled the rest.

Hermione grinned. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that. Do all pussies mutter under their breath?

Harry mock-glared at Hermione. Oh ha ha. Fine, he sort of caught me kissing you…

Hermione gasped. When I was petrified? She asked, quietly.

Harry’s blush grew. No! That’s just… wrong! Err… it was actually afterwards, when you fell asleep on the common room couch… nobody was around (or so I thought) and I was so happy that you were alright…

Hermione snickered. Oh Harry, that’s so sweet… so what did he talk to you about?

Er… nothing. Harry evaded.

Harry! Hermione said in frustration.

Well, what about you and Ron, then? I mean, if Dumbledore was such a great and wise wizard… Harry trailed off, suggestively.

Harry! Hermione cried out. Don’t be such a prat! She mock-slapped him on the shoulder.

Harry shrugged, grinning. Well, what’s good for the gander’s good for the goose! Ha! I win! Let it be known that the boy-who-lived, the man-who-conquered, has overcome the greatest challenge ever! I have beaten Hermione in a logical argument!

Laughing, Hermione play-slapped Harry’s shoulder again. Harry grinned, happy (well, somewhat happy) that the matter appeared dropped. After a few more hours, and more than a few more rounds, the pair tipsily staggered to the floo under the amused eye of the bartender.

Hermione grinned, leaning on Harry’s shoulder. So, what now? She asked, eyes sparkling with mirth (and a hint of something else).

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. I dunno. I don’t really want to go back to the Burrow…

Hermione nodded sympathetically. Yeah… maybe… do you want to come over to my flat, just for tonight? It seems like it’s been forever since it was just the two of us… She trailed off.

Harry fidgeted. No… I probably better not. Ron’s going to be in a right bloody mood next time I see him ‘cause I dumped his little sister… don’t want him any angrier.

Hermione shook her head in dismay. Alright, Harry, if your sure… She smiled wickedly up at him, and leaned close. Harry shivered as he felt her breath lick his ear. Pussy, she whispered seductively into his ear, lightly running her tongue over the edge. Then, with a giddy swirl, she pulled away, threw the powder into the floo, called out her address and vanished into the green flames.

Harry stood there, stunned. Tom clucked his tongue at the lad. Harry, when a bird runs away you’re supposed to give chase! He let out a gravelly chuckle. I mean, unless you’re some kind of pussy.

Harry hadn’t heard the grizzled bartender’s parting shot. He was too busy leaping into the green flames, and the tantalizingly mischievous unknown.

p2319 MagnaMorbius

Harry Potter/Power Rangers Crossover… No, Seriously!

This is a crossover that Seel’vor suggested (he’s got a whole list of ideas, and I decided to write this as a bit of a drabble), and here’s my attempt. Now, I know Power Rangers is a kid show, but I was trying to crossover and make it an interesting read. Let me know what you all think.

Hermione Granger stood next to her table, waiting for the judge to reach her. She’s spent over a month working on this science project, which was a welcome distraction from the magic of Hogwarts. Her closest friends had looked baffled as she created what looked like a funnel with a propeller in it, but she was proud; her prototype engine used tiny quantities of magnesium, burning in nitrogen, to create thrust, using minimal resources. If it could be enhanced, then it could be extremely energy efficient.

As the judge was standing next to her, she made her presentation, emphasising the energy efficiency and power of her engine. When asked to fire it up, she went to stand at the end of the table, wedging it against her hip.

Sorry, but it tends to push the table about. My parents were not happy when I launched the dining table out on to the patio.

The judge nodded, with a smile on his face, as he watched the small engine flare.

The exhaust is pure magnesium nitrate. A simple redirecting exhaust could mean that the exhaust could be used, with boron, to create borazon, an artificial diamond substitute, as a by-product.

The judge was extremely impressed; this was as cutting edge science as he’d ever seen, and it was in a youth science fair. It was an impressive day all around, the first project he’d seen, an experimental ion thruster, had been based on existing technology, but an innovative lasing technique had managed to enhance the engine efficiency by 51%, which was brilliant.

Finally, after everyone was standing around, the judge made his way to the small podium.

Thank you, everyone, for attending today. I’ve seen some brilliant projects here, and it pleases me that so many fine young minds are attuned not only to science, but to innovation. Two projects today have been special, so much so, that I cannot pick one over the other. Therefore, it is my great pleasure to announce a pair of winners today. The winners of the Greater London School Science projects are Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter!

Polite clapping drifted over the crowd as Hermione walked up to the podium, seeing someone walking next to her. She cast a glance, and saw a shock of black hair obscuring his eyes. As she shook hands with the judge, she turned to see her fellow winner, and almost collapsed; he had the sexiest green eyes she had ever seen. She felt like she was falling in to their depths.

Harry Potter was in a similar quandary. Cinnamon eyes, expressive and intelligent, stared at him, and he smiled.

Congratulations. I saw your demonstration. I’m sure that tables everywhere will be panicking at their unexpected flights. His smile removed any possible sting the words could have, and Hermione smiled back.

Thanks. I think my parents were panicking about unexpected flights, actually; having to fish a dining table out of the pool was not my Dad’s idea of an enjoyable pastime for a Monday.

Harry laughed, then looked at his watch. Sorry, got to go. It was great meeting you. Good luck with your engine. Harry dashed off, pocketing the rosette and certificate, before scooping up the thruster and leaving, heading across London as quickly as possible.

Everything OK, sweetie? Hermione looked at her mum, a smile on her face.

Yeah, I came joint first.

Joint first? That’s a new one for you, isn’t it?

Yeah. The other winner had green eyes… Her voice trailed off, as she drifted off to her happy place, before snapping back to attention. I mean, a thruster. He had an experimental thruster. We’d go well together. I mean, our engines would go well together.

Emma Granger was openly smiling at her daughter, whose face was glowing so much, you could’ve toasted marshmallows on her. So you had fun then?

Mmmm, very much so.

Dan Granger, who had been concentrating on the road, looked in the mirror. You all ready for the expo this afternoon?

I think so. I’ve been training hard, and luckily, this is an independent study tournament, so no students from martial arts schools will be there.

Dan nodded. It had pleased him when Hermione came home from her third year at school, suddenly working out hard, at different martial arts. While she wasn’t exactly Bruce Lee, any father worth his salt is more than happy to see his daughter able to emasculate any ‘over-eager’ boys.

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the final of the Greater London Martial Arts Expo. We’ve seen 64 martial artists, self-studying students, demonstrate their skills through freestyle combat. Each of these competitors have given it their all. And now, the final, set for three points. To my left is Hermione Jane Granger, aged 16, and to my right is Harry James Potter, aged 16.

Hermione looked stunned as she saw messy black hair atop of green eyes, and felt part of her, between her legs, melt. At least, that would explain the sudden dampness she felt. He’s gorgeous. A pity I want to beat him.

Harry also saw Hermione, imagining her white gi as pyjamas, and smiled. Ah well. Nothing to it but to do it.

The umpire gestured them both to their starting marks. Bow to me. They both bowed. Bow to each other. They both bowed again, holding it a moment longer than the previous bow, as a sign of respect to their opponent.

Suddenly, Harry was on the defensive, blocking open-handed lunges to his torso. As he knocked one hand up, he felt a scything motion around his legs, knocking him to the ground. A brief poke to his chest indicated the hit, and he was down a point.

He went back to his mark, and winked cheekily at Hermione, who smirked back, an eyebrow raised.

Harry lunged forwards, launching a flying roundhouse kick that made Hermione duck instinctively. Two more kicks, both ducked, and Harry landed on one knee, his kicking leg dragged backwards, hooking around the back of Hermione’s knee, dropping her to the ground. Harry instinctively stepped backwards, missing Hermione’s leg, which was sweeping around. He quickly tapped her body, and the points were equal.

Two more points went by, Harry and Hermione each picking up a point, and they finally faced each other for the last time; the next point would be the decider.

Both combatants came out firing, a flurry of punches that went almost too fast for the eye to see. The match ended suddenly, when both fighters launched roundhouse kicks, each catching the other in the side, and knocking them both off balance.

The umpire stepped forward, looking over his shoulder. Judge’s ruling? He nodded, and turned back to the two fighters. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a tie. He stepped forward, presenting the trophy to the pair of them.

Harry smiled, and handed the trophy over to Hermione. Here, you take it. I’ve nowhere to put it.

Hermione accepted the trophy, and grinned impishly at him. So, what else are we going to tie in today?

Not a lot; I need to get home, before they lock the… He shrugged. I need to get home soon. He bowed to her once more, before heading off to the locker room to change.

Well, Albus? Is it time?

Indeed it is, Tom. His physical maturity is at the ideal stage, and his powers are almost tearing at the blocks. He will make the perfect Evil Green Ranger.

Harry had his heavy bag over his shoulder, his second-hand gi and the thruster, cannibalised from old car parts, pieces of his aunt’s old blender and enough robotic toys to open a branch of Toys’R’Us, stuffed in to the old bag, as he scurried down the alley. If he didn’t get home before 6pm, his aunt would lock him outside for the night, and he wasn’t eager for that to happen yet again.

As he approached the end of the alley, he saw an old man, clothed in what only could be described as a dress, looking at him, hold a foot-long piece of wood.

Hello, Harry. It’s been a long-time.

Do I know you, sir?

Not so much as I know you. I’ve come to offer you something, something you would enjoy very much. I’ve come to offer you power, the beautiful dark powers of pure evil. You will be able to destroy your relatives for their barbaric punishment of you. Just imagine, Harry; no consequences, no punishments. You can do what you like, when you like, to who you like. Women? Just take them. Power? Within your grasp. All you need to do is take this. The old man held out a glowing green gem, which pulsed with malevolent light.

Harry looked at the gem, feeling disgust and fear at the energy is was putting out. I’m not evil. He backed up, heading for the other end of the alley, when he saw a bald man, again, wearing a dress, eyes a burning, hateful red, blocking the other end of the alleyway.

Allow me to clarify my previous statement, Harry. You will accept this gem, and you will become our evil Green Ranger. Or you will die. It’s really very simple.

Harry spat at the old man, before charging towards him, intent on battering him aside, and making a break for freedom.

Stupefy!

The red spell impacted Harry, sending him hurtling in to a pile of bin bags, robbing him of consciousness.

Honestly, Albus, must we carry on with the wise-old-man routine? Just drag him back to base, we’ll put the spell on him, and then point him towards the Rangers.

All three vanished with a pop, leaving a rucksack lying in the alley the only proof that anyone was ever there.

Hermione had just finished putting the trophy in its new home, when she felt the Patronus message fly in to her hand.

Come quick to the Chamber. You’re not going to believe this.

She quickly grabbed her permanent portkey, and vanished.

As she came back to herself in the Chamber, she saw the rest of her friends gathered round. What’s up?

Sirius Black, pacing around, looked at her, a look of puzzlement on his face. We’re not sure. We recorded a massive energy surge in Surrey. The power level is consistent with a morph, but none of you were there.

Hermione looked puzzled. What her parents, indeed, nobody knew, was that Hermione Jane Granger was not just a brilliant student, or that she was a witch. No, Hermione Granger was the White Ranger, leader of the Power Rangers, and was more important to the Light than anyone could imagine.

15 years earlier, there had been a devastating war between the Light and the Dark, which had been ended when the Dark Lord Voldemort had been killed when he went after the Potter family. He’d killed Lily and James, and then turned his wand on their baby son, Harry. The curse had rebounded, killing Harry and Voldemort at the same time.

Sirius Black knew that Peter Pettigrew was the secret-keeper, and only he could’ve betrayed the Potters. He headed straight to the Aurors, alerting them as to what he thought had happened. During the investigations that followed, it was discovered that Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light for over 40 years, was in fact working with Voldemort to rule the Wizarding World. When this scheme was discovered, he ran, attempting to kill as many Aurors as possible.

Sirius Black, devastated at the loss of his friends, worked together with his remaining best friend, Remus Lupin, to carry on a secret that the Potter’s had guarded and controlled for over a thousand years; they were the guardians of the Dino Gems, powerful crystals that gave the wielders potent powers, allowing them to combat the darkness. With the end of the Potter line, Sirius had become a mentor to the current team of Rangers, guiding them and helping them through their battles against the Dark Lords.

Could it be another Dino Gem?

There aren’t any more. I went through all of Lily’s texts, and there are only six Dino Gems, which you possess. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a Gem.

What about a spare Badge of Darkness? Neville Longbottom, the Red Ranger, asked.

No, the Badges replicated your own Gem signatures. This wasn’t a gem signature, it was an energy output that was similar to a morph. I can’t explain it.

Where’s Remus?

Time of the month. Sirius looked slightly amused, as he did every month, at that turn of phrase. He’s currently resting. I shot him full of jolly jelly, and he’s well out of it.

Well, why don’t we go and— Hermione cut off as a loud bell started ringing, alerting everyone to a danger.

Oh my god.

Sirius, what is it?

Look at the Viewing Mirror. Everyone turned towards the mirror, seeing a figure in a green rubberised armour walking through Piccadilly Gardens in Manchester, smashing up everything in sight.

Looks like we found our Ranger.

Hermione, go, find out what you can. Sirius pressed a button on the desk in front of him; it was a brilliant piece of magical engineering, creating a portkey out of the team’s watches, allowing them to move straight to Manchester.

Harry Potter, the Evil Green Ranger, was having a marvelous time. His bound magic had been freed, he had amazing powers that he could use to destroy everything, and it was all thanks to his Lords. He backhanded someone out his way, before launching a blasting hex at a building, watching great chunks of masonry vaporising itself in front of him.

Suddenly, there were six people in front of him, each wearing a different colour top. What do we have here?

Hermione looked at him, a question in her gaze. Who are you?

Why, my dear Hermione, I’m the Green Ranger.

If you were a Ranger, then why are you working for the Dark Lords?

They are my masters. And soon, they’ll rule the world.

I don’t think so. The Rangers all twisted their wrists, a small device appearing on the bracelet they were all wearing. Hermione looked at the friends. Let’s be careful, but let’s get it down.

Dino Thunder, Power Up!

White Ranger, Dino Power!

Tyranno!

Tricera!

Ptera!

Brachio!

Stego!

Drago!

Suddenly, the six were replaced by the Power Rangers, who wasted no time, charging forwards, pulling out battle wands, small sword-type weapons that contained wand cores.

The Green Ranger was fast, ruthless and utterly devastating; he beat back the Rangers as if it were a fun sport for his afternoon. During the brief but enjoyable melee, he’d picked up a dropped battle wand, and was using it to soundly thrash the Rangers.

You think you’re so tough? Take me on! Hermione was furious, covering her fallen team-mates.

Gladly! Harry threw the battle wand, catching Hermione square on the chest, sending her reeling backwards, before the two began to battle in earnest. While Hermione was a skilled fighter, the Green Ranger was equally skilled, but possessed of a malevolence that meant that he was able to beat the White Ranger back.

Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle were standing on top of the NCP Car Park, watching their Ranger smash the others about with reckless abandon.

Shall we go for an upgrade?

Lets.

Both evil wizards placed their wands together, pointing them at Green Ranger. Engorgio!

Hermione stumbled backwards as she saw the suddenly city-wrecking-sizedRanger, and realised that they were in trouble.

She raised her communications mirror to her mouth. Sirius, could use a little help here.

A ‘little’ help, or something considerably bigger.

You’re a funny bastard, aren’t you? A sudden roar sounded out, as the massive BrachioZord approached. Doors opened on the top, sides and front of the massive CarrierZord, as the other Zords erupted. As usual, TyrannoZord looked like it was about to fall over it’s own feet as it bounded out, more like an excited puppy than a battle machine. StegoZord and PteraZord flew outwards, quickly assembling into the Thundersaurus MegaZord. DragoZord and StegoZord combined to form the Dino StegoZord, with Black Ranger riding along with them.

Two on one? That doesn’t seem very fair. Green Ranger jumped, drop-kicking the Thundersaurus, before uppercutting the StegoZord, sending both stumbling backwards.

Green Ranger stood over the StegoZord, kicking the machine repeatedly. Anyone in the cockpit was going to be having a really hard time.

Green Ranger suddenly staggered forward, the massive drill from the Thundersaurus MegaZord smashing in to his spine, drawing a brief grunt. He wheeled around, spin-kicking the Zord backwards.

Well, Albus, I think we’ve proved our point. Let’s depart before Potter’s injured. He’s still new to his magic and his powers.

Dumbledore nodded, using his Legilimency to order Green Ranger to retreat, leaving a puzzled group of Rangers and a devastated Manchester city centre.

You want to tell me precisely what happened out there?

Sirius was furiously pacing, looking over one of Lily’s journals, while Remus was sitting in a chair, holding a reference text out of Hogwarts library, giggling softly to himself; clearly, the day after the full moon was not a good day to try and get some work out of the werewolf if you’d dosed him with pain-relieving potions.

Well, Hermione, at the risk of sounding obtuse, you fought a Green Ranger.

Hermione, who was rubbing bruise-reducing salve on to her forearm, looked at Sirius as if planning to neuter him as soon as he changed in to Padfoot. I’m aware of that. I just want to know if there are any more Rangers out there, waiting to come out to play. And why’s he so much stronger than us?

I don’t know.

Neville was having a broken finger reset, and didn’t look happy about it. There’s a Zord for each colour; will he be able to control the Parasaur?

Remus giggled softly to himself, and then snorted.

What my educated colleague means, Sirius shot Remus a glance, is that no, he won’t be able to control the Zords. His powers are nothing like yours. If he could control the Zords, you wouldn’t have been able to drive him off.

We didn’t drive him off. He just left. The reason is, why?

Sirius just shrugged.

Where have you been, Freak? Thieving, no doubt.

Vernon Dursley had spent the best part of 15 years beating down Harry, and he considered himself very good at it; he was bigger, heavier and stronger, and he used those to his full advantage. So when Harry grabbed him around the throat, and hoisted him in to the air, slamming him against the wall, Vernon felt the trickle of urine down his leg.

What are you doing, freak? He gurgled.

Harry leaned in, his face inches from Vernon’s, snarling. Now I’m the one with the muscles and the power. Me! He headbutted Vernon, feeling cartilage pop under his forehead as the fat man’s nose exploded.

His enhanced senses felt the lumbering, shambling approach of Dudley, and he ducked to one side, feeling the other boy’s fist flying through the air, smashing in to his father, knocking him out. Harry quickly wheeled, pummelling Dudley with ruthless efficiency until the fat boy was unconscious.

Well, Aunt Petunia. Anything to say?

You’ve unlocked your freak powers, then. Petunia spat at him in disgust. I should’ve known.

Yes, you should’ve. Harry smirked, his eyes glowing with unholy green light. And now, you’ll reap just what you’ve sown. Have you ever heard the wordCrucio?

The older woman shook her head, still looking at the freak in front of her.

Oh, good. Crucio! Inside Harry’s head, a small part of him was rebelling, yelling that this wasn’t right, but his soul had been torn from him, leaving him nothing but a passenger to the Dark Lords’ whims, while the Evil Ranger was revelling in the screams of pain.

Well?

I’ve got nothing, Hermione. There’s nothing listed in any of the texts in the Library, or Lily’s journals, about a Green Ranger, or a Dark Ranger. According to every record we’ve got, a Ranger loses his or her powers if they turn Dark. Remus had finally quit giggling, and was actually putting some work in.

What about Zords?

No clue. He fought the Zords, rather than try and take them over, so it could be that they’re safe, but without more information, we don’t know. Sirius squeezed her shoulder. Until we find anything more, you should probably go home; no need to worry your parents.

Hermione nodded, and took her portkey home.

Sirius, you going to tell her?

Absolutely not. The White Ranger is the avatar of the Light. There’s no way I’m telling her that this Dark Ranger is an absolute equal in power. Sirius Black rubbed his face, trying to scrub the weariness away. She’ll be fine. Light magic isn’t weaker than Dark.

Mum, I’m going to the Library. I’ll be back later.

OK, love. Dinner’s at seven. Emma Granger smiled to herself. Seven pm this evening. I’m not falling for you trying to stay overnight at the library again.

Mum, that was ages ago.

It was last week. Now, home by 6.30pm.

Yes, Mum. Hermione picked up her bookbag, charmed to be weightless, and set off towards the London Library, one of the largest public libraries in the world, and an invaluable resource to witch and muggle alike.

avenger>Avenger Drabble p2322:2578 MagnaMorbius

MagnaMorbius

Harry Potter smiled as he felt the sunlight on his face. Six years he’d been in Azkaban. Six long, anguish-filled years. Now, he was free. Behind him, the bars of his cell were a puddle of molten slag, the walls of the prison were cracked and damaged, and the crumpled cloaks all that remained of the Dementors that had guarded this place.

He cast his mind back to his trial, where most of the Wizarding World had turned its back on him.

Harry James Potter, you have been accused of the murder of Draco Malfoy. How do you plead?

Not Guilty!

Impossible! Fudge was already warming up, smiling to himself. You were found at the scene of the crime, holding on to your wand, unconscious. It seems that Mr. Malfoy managed to stun you before succumbing to his wounds.

I didn’t duel Draco. Check my wand!

Your wand was already broken at the scene; it appeared to have been hit with a cutting curse from Mr. Malfoy, which was how he managed to stun you.

You found me unconscious at the scene? That’s your proof? Harry was getting hysterical; they appeared to be going for the kill, without letting a little thing called ‘evidence’ worry them.

Not only that, but the testimony of your friends!

Harry watched in horror as Dumbledore testified against Harry, claiming that the link with Voldemort had turned Harry to the Dark, leaving him as twisted and evil as his master. Ron had immediately testified that Harry was Dark, with Neville agreeing with him, Ginny declaring about all the Dark magic she had witnessed when she confronted him in the Chamber, after discovering that he was loosing a Basilisk on the students. Fred and George had even taken the witness stand, describing meetings where Harry had asked them to create lethal pranks, to enable his ‘reign of terror on the school to be complete’.

The entire assembled witnesses had been Purebloods, and the Wizengamot, long a bastion of Pureblood power, had immediately decided to believe ‘these noble men and women, defending truth and justice’. Harry was frantic; where was Hermione? He needed her, her wisdom, her counsel. Hell, anything. But Hermione, Susan, Daphne and Padma, his true friends, had not been at the trial, and had not visited him since.

Harry James Potter, based on the testimony given, we declare you guilty of murder. You are sentenced to Azkaban prison, with no possibility of pardon or parole, for the rest of your natural life.

No! Harry screamed. Use Veritaserum! It’ll prove I’m innocent!

Dumbledore shook his head regretfully. Harry, you have been discovered. At least face your fate with honour.

No! Suddenly, an Auror shot a stunner at him, watching him slump to the floor.

Take it away.

Harry had woken up in Azkaban, feeling the bone-deep chill, before the Dementors glided by, robbing him on any rational thought as he relived his parents dying by Voldemort’s hand, Cedric falling to Wormtail’s spell, Sirius plunging through the Veil.

For two years, Harry had existed, not lived, but just existed in a twilight state, before the voices changed; he still heard his mother’s pleading for Voldemort to take her instead of Harry, but now, his father’s voice was different; no longer did he tell Lily to take Harry and go. Now, his words were different.

Avenge us! James cried.

And so Harry Potter became what he had always been.

His father’s son.

Avenger.

Hermione Weasley limped carefully down the stairs, wincing all the way; Ron had been extremely aggressive last night, sodomising her brutally before rolling over, snoring off a small lake’s worth of FireWhiskey. She sat down on a rubber ring that had been bought for that very reason, and slowly drank a cup of calming potion-laced tea, trying once more to act on her murderous impulses.

‘The Conspiracy’, they’d called it. Dumbledore and the Weasleys had decided that Harry Potter was getting far too independent, working with her study group, learning powerful spells and combat techniques. If Harry learned too much, he’d be ready to face and vanquish Voldemort, and that would remove Dumbledore’s influence; the old man needed the Dark Lord as the Wizarding world’s adversary, something for him to lead the fight against. Otherwise, Dumbledore would just be another old man, hanging on to the glory of the past.

And so, the plan. Dumbledore had stunned Harry before attacking Draco, annihilating the blonde in short order. After Malfoy’s death, Harry was sentenced to Azkaban, and his vaults were to be turned over to Dumbledore, the Weasleys and Longbottoms.

The personal aspect, and in Hermione’s opinion, the far more insidious one, was that she was to be married to Ron, Susan was to be ‘gifted’ to Neville, Padma could ‘enjoy’ the attentions of Fred and Daphne would ‘be allowed to service’ George. The most degrading part was that Ginny would be allowed to use any of the girls whenever she wanted, and, unfortunately, she wanted a lot.

Four Imperius-driven weddings later, and the girls were trapped by a set of the most brutal and discriminatory wedding vows ever written. Hermione was forced to submit to Ron and Ginny whenever they wanted. She had seen her wand once since her wedding; when she had picked it up, Ron had disarmed her and beaten her bloody, since ‘Mudblood filth aren’t allowed magic’. That was when she realised that one of her wedding vows, ‘I shall never act against my husband’, meant that she was powerless to combat him; her own magic would stop her.

Ron, however, had no such breaks on his behaviour; she was regularly punished for everything, even things she had no control over; only three weeks ago, Ron had come home, thoroughly inebriated, and was unable to get an erection. Hermione had been beaten so severely, she needed two nights in St Mungo’s, because she obviously couldn’t turn a man on.

Hermione had then tried to run, leaving behind everything, but Dumbledore had managed to implant a Portkey somewhere inside her body, and immediately brought her back, where she was suitably ‘punished’ by Ron, which was where the vile creature had managed to pick up his interest in brutal anal sex.

However, one of the problems that the Weasleys found was that Harry had sealed his vaults, only allowing access to someone who had his blood and magical signature (him, in other words), and the Goblins has cited three different treaties to defend their decision not to turn over the vaults. Ron had been livid; Harry’s broom and invisibility cloak had been placed in the vaults as soon as he’d been arrested. Hedwig had taken the shrunken package to the bank, and then disappeared.

Hermione, having finished her tea, saw the owl delivering the Prophet fly through the window. Paying the owl from her own money, as Ron was penniless, she sat down and almost had a heart attack.

Harry Potter Escaped!

By: Rita Skeeter

Last night, in Azkaban prison, Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Killed, escaped from his cell, damaging the ancient prison, killing the guards, before escaping.

Potter was sentenced for killing Draco Lucius Malfoy, the scion of the proud and ancient Malfoy family, in a brutal attack six years ago. Potter, who had decided to turn his back on decent society and embrace the Dark, was placed in Azkaban for life due to the brutal murder of an honourable pureblood.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who testified about the Boy-Who-Killed’s rampant evil nature, had this to say on the escape; Harry Potter is extremely dangerous. If you see him, do not attempt to apprehend him, inform the Aurors or myself, and we shall take this vile criminal back into custody.

As shown in the above picture of Potter’s cell, he has become dangerously obsessive, painting the word ‘Avenger’ on the walls in his own blood. What this reporter wants to know is why the murdering Potter is looking for revenge, when he was the one who killed.

Hermione hears a horcrux.

KafkaExMachina

Setting: after Harry meets Snape’s patronus.

Hermione crawled out of the tent. She wasn’t sure why, but she had a rather bad feeling. Her fears were confirmed when she noticed Harry’s footsteps leading off into the forest.

I thought we’d agreed to forage together? Oh heck, it’s cold… She thought. Quickly, she cast the locater charm that allowed them to return to the tent and hurried off, following Harry’s footsteps.

The scene she came upon made her freeze in her tracks. Before her stood Harry and Ron, as well as the ghostly figures of her and Harry emanating from that bloody locket on a stump. Ron was holding the Sword of Gryffindor, but as usual he was being a worthless prat and just standing there with his thumb up his arse.

Still, a sense of malicious vengeful glee washed over her as she heard the Horcrux spew out Ron’s worst fears.

‘Wait,’ she thought angrily, ‘THAT’S Ron’s deepest fear? A bloody inferiority complex and an overweening sense of selfish entitlement? And it’s keeping him from bloody well saving Harry? What the HELL was I thinking? Oh no, it looks like Harry’s about to say something stupid to stop this.’

She cast a whispered silencio at Harry, cutting off his words. She snuck up beside him, shaking her head at his silent pleas. The ghostly image of Harry and her stopped snogging for a second to look at her in askance. Annoyed, she waved her hand while mouthing ‘get on with it.’

The red-eyed Harry cocked an eyebrow at her while her double merely smirked and drew the ghostly Harry into a deeper embrace. Hermione smiled wickedly at Ron’s pained expression. ‘Well, that serves the prat right!’ She thought angrily.

She blinked as Ron turned around, enraged. Time slowed as he raised the sword as if to strike Harry down.

Stupefy! she cried, stunning her ex-boyfriend. She cancelled the silencio on Harry and daintily picked up the sword from Ron’s slack fingers and made her way towards the Horcrux. Evidently, Voldemort hadn’t gotten the message, as the ghostly Harry and Hermione were busily snogging away. A morbid curiosity stayed her hand. Things were starting to get interesting. Ghostly Harry’s hands were making it up her double’s shirt, while her double was fumbling with Ghost-Harry’s belt buckle.

A sharp cough from behind her caught both her, and the Horcrux’s, attention. The image shifted. Her ghostly double was replaced by Ron’s. Red-eyed Harry smirked. Stupid little girl, don’t you know that no matter how much you care, no matter what you do, I’ll always choose Ron first?

The ghostly Ron laughed. Isn’t that the truth. Silly little mud-blood, to scared to let the real you shine through, happily taking whatever scrapes of affection I throw your way because, you know…

That you will never be good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, or strong enough to win my true affection, no matter how badly Ron treats me. Ghostly Harry finished the Red-Eyed Ron’s sentence. Hermione shuddered, the sword starting to fall from her slack fingers.

Oh for fuck’s sake! Harry shouted in frustration, grabbing the sword and cutting the blasted locket in two. That’s IT! No more Oh, it’s your turn to destroy the horcrux. He grumbled as the bit of Voldemort’s soul screamed into oblivion. He turned and faced his trembling best friend. That’s not true, he said softly. You have always been good enough. I just… oh Hell Hermione, it’s been obvious that you fancied Ron since third year, and I… damnit, just revive Ron and lets get back to the tent. I’m bloody cold and I can’t deal with this now.

Tearfully, Hermione cast an enervate on Ron. Groggily, he got up, and then stared at the two of them, Harry leaning on the sword, the locket split on the log, tears falling down Hermione’s face.

Guess I right buggered things up, didn’t I? Ron asked morosely.

Harry nodded. Yeah, you did. Go home, Ron. I don’t know how you found us, and I don’t know why you came back, but I don’t care. Maybe later you’ll grow up, but for now — the Horcrux was right. You really don’t deserve us. Come on, Hermione, the locket was full of shite. Yeah, you can irritate the Hell out of me sometimes, but you’ve always been worthy of my friendship and more.

And with that, Harry stalked off. Hermione gave Ron one last spite-filled smile, and followed.

Ron stared at the backs of the two he’d abandoned one time too many, until the falling snow and his regretful tears concealed their passage.

p2658">

In which Percy gets what’s coming to him.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, looked at the earnest young man in front of him. Percy Weasley, your contributions to my staff haven’t gone unnoticed! Percy beamed under the praise. As a reward for your service, I’ve taken it upon myself to set up a betrothal between yourself and a very influential member of the Wizengamot!

Tish, tosh, Fudge tish-toshed. If you want to go places, you’ve got to have connections, and connections are exactly what I’m giving you!

No matter. Let me introduce you to the new Mrs. Weasley! Fudge announced grandiosely.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Percy’s cry of ultimate sadness echoed throughout the Ministry building.

Damn said Fudge. You’d have thought he’d have been happy to keep the blood lines pure!

Cloneserpents

Dear Journal,

Woke up to find the boxers I was wearing missing. Had a ribbon wrapped around willy. States in gold lettering Best in Show. (Toes were wet again, too.) Ron confided that same happened to him (not the wet toes bit). However, his ribbon said: Pity Prize.

Greengrass dragged me into Ginny’s room to show me Ginny’s Special Toy. Greengrass explained that the toy was affectionately called Harry by its owner. Was about to throw up, but Greengrass said that the toy was no where near the proper size to be named Harry. She then demonstrated a rather nice skill on Ginny’s toy (after she cleaned it of course).

Hermione lent me a book, told me it was an interesting on goblin wars. The page markers were magical photos of three naked witches. Despite that their faces were not shown in the photos, I have a hunch as to who they are.

Thanks to Hermone’s hisory book, hav exhasted my suppily of tissue and lotion.

later

— Harry.

cloneserpents

Dear Journal,

Caught Ron trying to wank on Susan’s pillow. Being a gentleman, I introduced Mr. Harry’s Foot to Mr. Ron’s Testicles before throwing him out the second story window. Unfortunately. Ron landed on something soft. Fortunately, that soft something was his mother. More fortunately, Ron had still been up if you catch my drift and his little pull toy got rammed into Molly’s ear. The next hour proved to be chocked full of laughs as I watched mother and son trying to pull free.

Susan apparently wanted to show her appreciation for defending her honour. This appreciation with a photo that was laying on my naked bits the next morning. The photo showed my John Thomas wedged between a pair of magnificent breasts — and since I’ve seen Susan in a bikini (or as some might argue dental floss) I was fairly certain the breasts belonged to Susan. Of course, judging by the angle of the photo, the person who snapped the picture had to be sitting om my face at the time. Which would explain why my nose, lips and chin were wet and sticky. I’m starting to think that the three girls are slipping me a sleeping potion.

Before supper, a small package was slipped under my door. The package contained photos. I had hoped that they were another set from Hermione, Daphne and Susan. Regrettably, they contained Ginny’s frightening attempt at erotic photography. Note to self: beater’s bats should never be used in that fashion.

In order to quell the frightening images of Ginny with Fred and George’s bats, I donned my Invisibility Cloak once more and snuck into Daphne’s room and watched her shower. God, it’s good to be me.

Later,

— Harry.

Chem Prof

Dear Journal,

I can’t believe everything happened so fast. Never underestimate the power of two determined mothers. And a determined aunt. As of this morning I have two wives. Madame Bones performed the bonding. This afternoon I’ll be marrying Hermione. I didn’t know a wedding could be arranged that quickly. Mrs. Granger just gave me that same evil smile Hermione’s been giving me.

And the Weasleys are gone! Ron ended up bonded to Luna. I don’t know the details, but Mrs. Greengrass is evidently a wiz at potions. Ron left with her in a daze. I suspect he’s going to come to and find himself stripped naked, tied to a bed, with Luna having her way with him. Couldn’t happen to a more deserving guy.

Somehow, Fred got bonded to George. Don’t ask.

Madame Bones led Dumbledore away in chains, headed for the ultra-secure wing of the long-term psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. I didn’t even know such a place existed. Apparently, neither does anyone else.

Mrs. Weasley was carried away by Aizagora. Literally. I decided I didn’t want to know those details either.

I’m not sure what happened to Ginny, but Neville’s had a very satisfied look on his face all day. I think he may have acquired himself a new concubine.

Right now I’m getting ready to leave for the church. Neville and Remus are going to stand up for me. Daphne and Susan are going to be bridesmaids. This is one wedding where the bridesmaids will be glowing as much as the bride. I’ve heard some of the whispering going on. I have a feeling I’m going to have one hell of a wedding night.

Sometimes it’s very, very good to be me.

Voldemort? No problem. The girls tell me they have a plan for him. They can be pretty scary when they’re making plans. He doesn’t stand a chance.

The only thing I had to do was promise that each of them could ride the dragon every day.

Works for me.

This will probably be my last entry in this journal. I have a feeling I’m going to be pretty busy from now on. Got to keep the wives happy, you know.

The End.

— Harry.

pinkney.justin

Dear Journal,

If Ron does not shut the fuck up I’m going to snap. Hope he gets it now but I doubt it.

Obviously he didn’t get it as he now has a black eye and a bloody lip.

Ginny won’t stop looking at me. If that’s not enough shudders in

disgust. Molly keeps telling me and Ginny to give her grandchildren.

I’ve learn to ignore it but she won’t stop. Luckily for me, Hermione came

to the rescue and shut them up. I asked how she did it and she just

winked at me.

Later,

— Harry.

Tommy King

Dear Journal,

Went flying in my Black Dragon form today; must ask Remus if he knows how to get rid of the taste of burnt wool.

Later,

— Harry.

Cloneserpents

Dear Journal,

Spent better part of the afternoon watching Bones, Greengrass, and Hermione reapplying sunblock. Must buy new journal because pages have stuck together.

Later,

— Harry.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Found Ron ogling Hermione near pool. Broke his arms and nose and stamped on him for good measure.

Hermione giving me worried looks. Should not have laughed maniacally while punishing Ron.

Bones and Greengrass families moved into Manor. Caught Ron and Ginny looking at Susan and Greengrass strangely.

Mrs. Weasley dropping hints. Must hide bank statements from her.

Later,

— Harry.

Chem Prof

Dear Journal,

The girls finally got to me with the hurt looks today. They triple teamed me. Between the sad eyes and the pouts I caved in. The fact that they were all topless at the time didn’t help.

All three were very excited about the dragon. Hermione didn’t even scold me. Not very much anyway. Once the other two started snogging me she quickly changed her mind and joined in.

Then they all said they wanted a ride. Even Hermione. I told them it was too risky; someone might see. They said they’d take care of that.

Between the three of them they can do some amazing privacy charms. Pretty scary, actually.

They all insisted on riding bareback. Literally. And all three orgasmed during their rides. When I changed back afterward my back was pretty messy. Decided I didn’t actually mind.

Couldn’t believe Hermione enjoyed it that much. The flying, I mean. Then she told me it wasn’t the first time — she also orgasmed when we flew Buckbeak! Near the end when she squeezed me so tight and screamed ‘HARRY!’ All this time I thought it was because she was terrified of flying. Thinking back, though, she did wiggle around quite a bit. And it was in a sort of regular rhythm. And here I’d thought she was just having trouble getting comfortable.

I asked her if she’d also done it on the thestral. She just gave me a sultry look and said she might have if she’d been riding behind me.

Now, if only I could figure out what to do about the Weasleys, and Dumbledore. When I mentioned that they all got evil smiles on their faces. Said they’d take care of it.

Later,

— Harry.

Where the Wizengamot is daft.

Lord of Bones

Prince Charon posted this at TFF:

Would Harry Potter and the Stupid Arrogance of the Wizengamot work as a title?

During Harry’s Fourth Year at Hogwarts, some time after the Yule Ball, and maybe after the Second Task, Harry is called to Dumbledore’s office, along with several witches, including Hermione, Ginny, and either Parvati, or both Patil twins, and one or more Slytherin witches (I suggest Daphne and Tracey), among others. The number of girls is up to the author, but please try to keep it down to a manageable level, so as to avoid comparisons to ‘Harry Potter and the Witches’ Secret’.

Dumbledore, looking like he’s been required to eat something mildly unpleasant (or maybe more than just mildly), starts by explaining that the position of Chief Warlock has little actual power, despite the prestige that comes with it. This prompts one of the Slytherin or Ravenclaw girls to say The Wizengamot’s done something daft, haven’t they? (unless the speaker is Luna, in which case the question will probably be more like The Wizengamot has given in to the Calufratz Alliance, hasn’t it?).

While not actually agreeing, Dumbledore doesn’t disagree, either. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is very dangerous, and fatalities have historically been common. Harry is both the Boy-Who-Must-Be-Hyphenated, and the last of the Potters, who are one of the Ancient and Most Noble Houses of Britain. The Wizengamot very much does not want his bloodline to go extinct. Therefore, they have decided that Harry needs to get at lease one witch pregnant, and preferably more than one, before the next Task, just in case.

To assure this, the Wizengamot selected a group of girls to be Harry’s consorts (or concubines, slaves, whatever). Hermione and Ginny were selected because they are known or suspected to owe him Life Debts, Hermione, is his closest female friend, and Ginny is the younger sister of his closest male friend. Parvati went with him to the Yule Ball, and Padma may or may not have been added due to strange rules about twins, or a request by their father, or something. The other girls are involved because their families owe debts to House Potter, or had enough influence in the Wizengamot to get them added in… or they pissed off someone with influence, and this is revenge — that’s more likely if they’re concubines or slaves, than if they’re consorts, of course.

The idea in the alleged minds of the Wizengamot, is the Harry will act like a teenage boy, and shag them all, getting some of them pregnant. If this were a typical harem fic, that’s more or less what would happen (along with, in many fics, the girls all inexplicably having the same personality, or lack thereof), but I’m hoping that whoever picks this up will write them in character. This, of course, means that they’re mostly going to be rather freaked out, especially Harry and Hermione.

The difference between a wife, consort, concubine, or slave: for this thread, a consort is basically a wife, but you can have more than one, and get them at a younger age. Because you can only have one wife, she has more prestige, and is usually able to boss around the rest of the household. In the absence of a wife, the husband can designate one of his consorts ‘Chief Consort’, and she can boss around the others. Harry is to young to have a wife, as both husband and wife must be 17, but old enough to have consorts, as he and they have gone through puberty.

A concubine is an officially recognized mistress, who is also somewhat of a family retainer. Unless her specific contract says otherwise, she is not required to be monogamous when it comes to men, whereas the wife and consorts obviously are. For this reason, a concubine’s children are not legally recognized as those of her husband, unless he acknowledges them. (Harry’s concubines, if any, all have exclusive contracts, of course.)

A slave is a slave — few or no rights, pretty much considered property, doesn’t even have a family name, anymore. The one real advantage to this, is that name-based spells, including some curses, have difficulty finding them, unless cast by someone who knows her well, or if she has an unusual name, like Hermione (of course, if Hermione is a slave, she’ll be even more deeply enraged than she would be, as a consort or concubine).

Once Harry turns 17, he can ‘promote’, so to speak, the concubines and slaves (if any) to consorts, or release them, and Dumbledore assures them that there is no law preventing Harry from taking a former slave or concubine as his wife. Likewise, if he can’t get along with some of his consorts, he will be able to divorce them by then.

If the author wishes, a person with a lot of Magical Creature blood (or the lingering effects of Polyjuice Potion, if the Wizengamot finds out about that) can be registered as a pet.

There may be some laws about what slaves and pets can or cannot wear, e.g., pets don’t wear clothes, slaves have to wear a collar or shackles, or have to leave some area uncovered, that normally would be, et cetera (something else to piss off Hermione with). Of course, if none of the girls are slaves or pets, H & Hr may never find out about those sort of laws.

So, any takers?

This is my response:

Mr. Potter,

Meet me in my office immediately.

— AD

Harry looked at the letter before turning to face the gargoyle, bewildered by the uncharacteristic abruptness of the message. Shrugging, he said the password to Dumbledore’s office (Acid Pops) before ascending the stairs and entering the room.

Harry? You were called too? Hermione’s voice was a blend of curiosity, eagerness and nervousness. Harry could sympathize with her tone; Dumbledore’s office was a place that was both intimidating and amazing. Yeah, he answered, smiling at his best friend. Harry took note of the four other people in the room; including the Patil twins, the auburn-haired Susan Bones and the attractive Slytherin girl he knew as Daphne Greengrass.

A side door opened and Albus Dumbledore stepped out. The elderly Headmaster looked as though he’d swallowed something rather unpleasant and, upon meeting Harry’s gaze, responded with something akin to sympathy.

Mr. Potter, Ms. Patil, Ms. Granger, Ms. Greengrass, Ms. Bones, he greeted softly, before suddenly veering towards a different topic. The position of Chief Warlock is not one that hold much weight in the world. Despite the pomp and prestige, it is more of a… well, placeholder.

Susan Bones spoke up. The Wizengamot’s gone and done something stupid again, haven’t they?

In a manner of speaking Ms. Bones. The Tri-Wizard Tournament has historically been a cause of rather grotesque fatalities. And this, my boy, is where you come in, said Dumbledore, sympathy in his voice. Every eye in the room turned to Harry. Erm… Professor? What d’you mean?

Dumbledore suddenly looked old, older than he had ever seemed. You are the last direct heir of two Great Houses, Harry. To be more precise, you are the last Lord Potter and Lord Slytherin.

Harry went white. Wha— he squeaked. Hermione squeezed his hand reassuringly.

What does Potter’s heritage have to do with us, Professor? asked Daphne Greengrass.

As the last of these two houses, the Wizengamot has… decided that Harry should have to propagate his lineage, and thus has assigned consorts to Harry. Here is where you come in, students. Dumbledore took a deep breath, noticing the looks of dread on his students’ faces. Ms. Granger owes Harry a life-debt, so her case is fairly straightforward. Ms. Patil was Harry’s dance partner and a loophole in the laws observed in this case drew her sister in as well. Ms. Bones’ great-grandfather pledged his great-granddaughter to you, Harry, nearly fifty years ago. Finally, centuries ago, Salazar Slytherin saved the life of a druid who promised his female descendants to Slytherin’s children in gratitude. That druid was Ms. Greengrass’s ancestor.

Here, dawning comprehension mingled with horror on the girls’ (and Harry’s) faces. Hermione was unconsciously crushing Harry’s hand, now.

Dumbledore continued on. The Wizengamot has decreed that Harry is to sire children before the end of the year, but I’ve managed to extend that period to his final year. Each of you is now Harry’s consort.

This book will explain more — here, he summoned a thick tome with the words Marital Customs of the Wizarding World engraved on the cover — if you have any questions. And I am sorry.

So no manipulative!Dumbledore here, just goodguy!Dumbledore.

Where the Pocky goes missing.

Lord of Bones

It was August 1^st.

It was the day after his birthday.

It was Pocky Day.

Yessir, it was the one day where, unknown to everyone else, Wizarding Pocky-Makers everywhere celebrated the Boy-Who-Lived by sending him piles of his favourite sweet, his only true indulgence.

Pocky.

Sweet, glorious, divine pocky. Chocolate, plain, strawberry, coconut, orange, vanilla, blueberry, banana…

And they were missing. The packages that were supposed to be in his room were missing.

They were missing.

They. Were. Missing.

Harry twitched, noticing the trail of crumbs. Pocky crumbs.

Ron.

cloneserpents

Dear Journal,

Fake statements failed horribly. For some reason, Ginny was crying and heard Molly talking about divorcing Arthur so that she could pursue her young lover

Later,

— Harry.

Tommy King

Dear Journal,

Ginny groped my arse as I walked by her on my way to the kitchen.

All three of the girls noticed, she will be out of St. Mungo’s as soon they can find her limbs and reattach them.

Need to watch where I put my hands.

Later,

— Harry.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Caught Ron again. Doesn’t he ever learn?

Ginny attempted to sneak into room. Luckily Aizagora was outside.

News about being a Lord got out. Bugger.

Later,

— Harry.

Chem Prof

Dear Journal,

The three girls told me their plan today. I was so stunned I had to sit down. Susan sat in my lap and started wiggling. That managed to focus my attention. Of course it wasn’t on their plan, it was on something else. Two something elses, actually. Hermione and Daphne dragged her off and said that would have to wait until later. Extra incentive to agree to the plan. Those girls are evil!

I’m going to bond to Daphne. And Susan. Daphne will be Lady Black and Susan will be Lady Potter. I’m also going to marry Hermione in a muggle church. She’ll keep her maiden name. That’s fine with me. It’s hard thinking of Hermione with any other last name than Granger. The wizarding world doesn’t care about muggle ceremonies. As far as they’re concerned, she’ll be my concubine. She said she doesn’t care; the wizarding world could go bugger itself.

I asked how long all this would take. I just got those same evil smiles again.

Then Susan sat back in my lap. And the other two wanted a turn when she was done.

I was pretty worn out by the end of the day.

Later,

— Harry.

Where Harry’s Grandfather visits.

Lord of Bones

The Great Hall was as boisterous as ever, with the exceptions of a few students here and there, predominantly in the Gryffindor table.

At the Head Table, Dolores Umbridge grinned nastily. The Potter brat was in the hospital wing; courtesy of a few well-placed instructions to Mister Malfoy and his companions. Dolores made a mental note to repay the dear boy; maybe with that aloof Greengrass girl and a few lust potions…

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione tried not to cry. She just stared at her plate listlessly, her mind replaying the picture of a heavily bleeding Harry on the bed, spell-wounds all over his body. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t notice the shadow over her.

Hey now, ‘lil missy; if yer not gonna eat that drumstick, mind if I take a bite?

Hermione started at that, her head and body whipping around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. The man in front of her was rakishly dressed, complete with an outlandish hat. What she could see of the man’s hair was dark and somewhat messy, and his eyes were almost smoldering.

Ain’ polite ta’ stare, ‘lil missy.

Hermione flushed at the mild rebuke. Idly, she noticed that the remainder of the Great Hall was now paying attention to the man.

Umbridge cleared her throat. Hem, hem.

Yer gonna hafta see a doctor for that, Umby, said the man cheerfully, biting into the drumstick thoughtfully.

That’s Senior Undersecretary Umbridge to you! snapped the witch. Who are you?! Why are you here?!

I’ve got many names, Umby, said the man lightheartedly, biting into his drumstick. As fer who I am, ‘m just a concerned relative here ta’ lookout fer the son of my son.

And who might this be, young man? asked the suddenly interested Dumbledore, watching the youthful-looking man curiously.

Ainnit obvious? Harry Potter, of course.

THAT sent the hall into an uproar. Shouts and cries of Impossible! echoed across the room, but several heads looked on with other expressions. Hermione was stunned, while Daphne Greengrass and Susan Bones had shocked amusement and trepidation on their faces respectively. Blaise Zabini’s face was cooly calculating while Ron looked as though he’d swallowed something mildly unpleasant.

In that time, the man had vaulted over to the Slytherin table. Well, lookie here, he said, gripping Draco by the throat, it’s the lil’ ferret who thinks it’s wonderfully great to sneak up on an’ brutalize another student!

How dare you! snarled Umbridge. Release—

Be silent, wretch! roared the man, all trace of joviality gone.

Dumbledore stood up, letting his power blaze. I suggest you put the boy down—

Power raged in the room as each and every person felt the full force of the man’s own restrained presence. Dumbledore flinched as Umbridge, Draco and his goons began to gibber.

You desired my name, wretch? You shall have it! The man sounded like a raging flame.

I am Sky-Walker and Shape-Changer, Wizard of Lies and Patron of the Hearth, Patron of Sorcerers and Lord of Flame. I am father to Death, the Great Wolf and the Midgard Serpent. I am father of James and husband of Sigyn.

Flame raged.

I am Loki!

Yes, THAT Loki; the Norse god. Up for continuation as usual.

Another idea featured Harry’s maternal grandfather, Mr. Louis Cypher; but that’s up for another person, just like this drabble.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Newest shipment of pocky arrived. Must hide it.

Hurt looks still continuing. Am also getting cold shoulder.

Later,

— Harry.

Chem Prof

Dear Journal,

Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Greengrass found the topless sunbathing area today.

One word.

MILFs!

Later,

— Harry.

Tommy King

Dear Journal,

Caught Ginny wandering around with a pillow stuffed up her t-shirt singing lullabies, I wish Remus would hurry up and deliver the brain and eye bleach.

Later,

— Harry.

Tommy King

Dear Journal,

I was finding it difficult to understand why Ginny wasn’t sharing with the other girls as I walked past her room. I heard some moaning like she was in distress so I opened the door quietly.

Now I know why the Weasleys are Purebloods.

And where is Remus with the brain and eye bleach!

Later,

— Harry.

Cloneserpents

Dear Journal,

Used Invisibility Cloak to sneak into the Quidditch girls’ locker room again. Reminder: buy more tissue next Hogsmeade weekend.

Hermione dropped all subtlety and kicked Ron in the baby-maker which made him vomit my pocky.

Found boxers made into elaborate and detailed statue of the god Eros in the Great Hall — still no idea who’s behind it.

Later,

— Harry.

A tiny Drabble

Matt

The Weasley children were all swimming in the local pond the day before Bill’s wedding. There was splashing and laughter and joy all around. What would have been a very successful wizardly game of Marco Polo was interrupted by a shriek from the Burrow.

Seven red-heads ran as fast as their feet could take them, each fearing the worst. Death Eaters, mad garden gnomes with spinning eyes, or who knows what else could have attacked their home.

They shrieks only grew in intensity as they charged into their home and looked around. Another loud shriek sent them up the stairs and bursting into their parents bedroom, only to hear their mother scream in ecstasy:

Ooh! Yes, Arthur! Ride me like a pony!

KafkaExMachina

Harry grinned wickedly as he happily ripped off another Wizarding Household of all of it’s wealth, magic, and most importantly women. He returned to Hogwarts, delighting in the idea of another night of mindless destruction and perhaps, if he was lucky, snoggery.

Unfortunately, Harry’s plans were interrupted by a certain red-haired cretin.

Ron gazed at Harry, an almost terrifyingly intense expression of concentration marring his otherwise slack-jawed features. Ron’s eyes came into focus, setting a piercing gaze on Harry’s eyes. For a moment, Harry expected some strange wisdom to fall from his ‘best mate’s’ lips.

I like food. Ron said, as if his words were the metaphysical equivalent of 42.

Harry reached into his robes, grasping his implement of stabbity death.

I like violence, Ron continued. Harry stayed his hand for a moment. Perhaps there was still some hope?

I like food AND I like violence! Ron said proudly. So I’ve come up with a way to combine the best things in life! SAUSAGE-CHUCKS!

No; no hope. Hadoken!

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Hurt looks continuing, and also from Daphne and Susan. Am frantic.

Ginny getting on nerves.

Dumbledore and Snape stopped by. Better go see what they want.

Later,

— Harry.

Matt Lahner

Dear Journal,

Worked with Susan in Divination, she predicted extreme exhaustion and dehydration tomorrow morning… wondering if this is still a woolly discipline.

Daphne suggested I brew pepper-up during potions, then suggested it again, and again… took her advice.

Hermione kept handing me fresh fruit during dinner, and watching me eat it.

Stunned dorm mates, sealed curtains, showered and manscaped.

Let the games begin.

— Harry.

Potion!Ginny pays the price.

MagnaMorbius

Just a one shot drabble, something a bit different (I think) to deal with Ginny and her potions.

I can see them sitting there, in the gallery staring at us. They hate us. The despise us. They fear us. And they should. For we are a rapist and a killer.

We are sitting in the chair in the courtroom, the chains around our legs and forearms, trapping us their. They don’t understand us.

Harry James Potter. You are accused of raping and murdering Ginevra Weasley. How do you plead?

We let the Harry answer, for he is innocent. Not Guilty.

Very well. Let the record show that the defendant has entered a plea of Not Guilty. The Judge made a note on his parchment, before gesturing to Percy Weasley, who is acting as the prosecutor. We wonder about that; he’s hardly impartial, is he? Mr. Weasley, please proceed.

Percy walks in front of us, a look of indifference on his face, but his eyes are raging with the typical Weasley fire; not so much blood and thunder, more thud and blunder.

Mr. Potter. Harry. May I call you Harry?

You can call us whatever you want, Perce. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re stuck in this chair.

Percy’s eyes go wide as his eyebrows try and hide in his hairline; clearly, he is surprised. So is Hermione, one half of our soulmate.

Us? Who is us? There’s just you sitting there, Harry.

I smirk snidely, enjoying the look of distaste on Red’s face. Of course, we’re just sitting here, on our own.

Your honour, I request the use of Veritaserum on this witness; he is clearly attempting to derail this investigation.

The judge just nods, and gestures to the scribe, who scurries forward, putting three drops on our tongue. A floopy feeling swims through our minds; it feels like someone stuffed our skull with cotton wool.

For the record, please state your full name.

We are Harry James Potter and… I bite down on our tongue, stopping Harry from spilling our secrets. There are some things I do not wish for us to tell.

Answer the question! Percy roars. My my, he’s getting annoyed real quick, isn’t he?

We are Harry, and the other. They call us Harry because they cannot see behind the face. There. That’ll confuse them.

And if they could see behind the face, what would they call you?

I smirk, but Harry’s a bit confused by this, so we look like we’ve just sat on our keys. Amortentia.

What? Percy’s confused now, and Hermione, who’s brain moves quicker than a nun’s first curry (and I’m talking about the really hot ones, which warm you twice; once on the way in, and definitely on the way out), is already starting to put together pieces, including why we split up suddenly.

Do you really want to know what your Gryffinwhore sister did to us? A shout of outrage comes from the gallery, as Molly Weasley appears to be trying to climb her way over the railing to throttle us. She’d probably be more successful if she were taller than she is wide.

The judge bangs the gavel firmly, immediately silencing the crowd. Harry’s a bit afraid and trying to come up with something to defend himself, and I’m trying to remember the wandless hex to cause immediate and noise farting to create a bit of humour; we’re both drawing blanks.

Your sister, apart from having sex with 40 different students before she finished her fourth year, decided that she really wanted to date Harry’s vaults. So, she stopped screwing her way through the Slytherins, and tried to woo him. Unfortunately, we have the Marauder’s Map, so we know what the tramp was up to, and wanted nothing to do with her. So, she decided to brew up a little liquid lust. She started off nice and easily; a bit of jealousy draft while she starts screwing Dean Thomas. We didn’t really care. We smile sweetly; Harry seems to be letting me drive. We did warn Dean about her past, but he was only shagging her, and apparently, she was quite the dirty ride.

The outrage is almost palpable, the judge is banging his gavel and Aurors have moved in to the chamber. As soon as it goes completely quiet, Percy lets out the kind of fart that needs a towel to deal with; I knew we’d remember that hex.

Well, we ignored Ginny, and carried on dating Hermione, who is everything Ginny isn’t. Worth dating, in other words. Unfortunately, the Weaselette decided that she really wanted our vaults. She went all out. She invited Harry to the Room of Requirement, put him in a bodybind, and poured just over a pint of Amortentia in to our body. Add in a pint of jealousy draft, a pint of inhibition reduction potion and about a litre of lust inducing draft, and her Friday evening was all planned. There was no way for Harry to survive that with his mind intact, so I was born. I saw Ginny. Even though she was dirt, she looked like a good fuck. I knew that her snatch would be so slack, I’d need to leave a forwarding address, so I decided I’d fuck her in the arse. She disagreed, told us that she wouldn’t do that. She had no choice. She’d destroyed our inhibitions, and ramped up our lust; we were fucking her exactly how we wanted. Harry actually passed out, leaving me in charge. We fucked her so hard, so begged for mercy.

I don’t do mercy. She told us, after it was all over, that she’d never see us again, and have us arrested. She told us that we’d never have her. If we couldn’t have her, nobody would. And nobody can.

The courtroom is completely silent. We’re getting kind of nervous, now; that fart trick wouldn’t work twice. The judge, who’s been whispering to someone in green for the last minute or so, suddenly sits up.

The testimony has been given, verified by Veritaserum. He watches as the Healer, who’s been scanning us with her wand, straightens up and nods to the judge; yep, they found the potions. The defendant does have the stated doses of potions in his system. The judge is now tapping his chin with his finger; it looks like the drumbeat from the Weird Sisters, but we feel that this isn’t the right time to ask.

The following sentence shall be carried out. Harry James Potter is absolved of all charges. His separate personality, Amortentia, shall be Obliviated out of his mind, forever removed from the world. This court rules the death of Ginevra Molly Weasley as death by misadventure. Weasley family, you shall not visit retribution upon the person, name or reputation of Harry Potter, as he is an innocent victim in this. He slams the gavel down hard, and we wonder if his biceps look like steel cable. Case adjourned.

Bugger. A death sentence. Well, it is for me. Granger’s already making her way over, with a look of compassion on her face. I can see the Obliviator wandering over.

Any last words before you suffer the death of personality?

Godric’s Gonads, they want me to make a speech? Yes. From now on, children, stick to foolish wand waving. Don’t mess about with potions. There, that was catchy.

Obliviate!

Pascal (aka Rufus Copperpot)

Dear Journal,

It worked… Ah ah… can’t believe it… Received notice from Gringotts. The Potter estate has just been enlarged with some more properties. Amongst them, Dumbledore’s manor, Aberforth’ café (although I could have passed on that one), Snape’s house in Spinner’s End and a good many books…

Loved the panicky look on Dumbledore’s and Snape’s faces when they received their statements from Gringotts.

Also loved bald Molly and Ginevra.

Must make a pensieve memory out of this.

I’m thinking about renaming the properties… Maybe name them from my favourites parts of my favourite witches and make them owner of their own houses? Maybe I would gain points with them that way.

Spent hours in the library to write a meeting request. Gave up in the wee hours of the morning.

Those hurt looks are driving me insane.

Later,

— Harry.

In which Dean and Harry have a conversation.

KafkaExMachina

Dean pulled Harry aside on day in the Gryffindor common room. Hey, Harry, you got a minute?

Harry blinked and shrugged. Admittedly, Dean was near the top of his ‘people to curb-stomp’ list even since he’d noted his roommate tongue-wrestling with Ginny…

Yeah, sure. What is it? Harry tried to keep the hostility out of his voice.

Dean sighed. Look, Harry, this isn’t easy for me… but you’ve gotta know. He paused, taking a deep breath.

Harry growled. If this is about me staying away from Ginny…

Dean shook his head, then stopped and nodded. Well, it is, but not the way you think. Harry blinked in confusion. Look, Harry, you’ve got to lower the hostility, okay? Promise me that what I’m about to tell you, you’ll keep close, alright? Harry looked at Dean oddly, but nodded. Dean exhaled in relief. Bril. Alright, you see… the thing is, Harry… I’m gay.

Harry’s jaw dropped. Of all the things that he expected Dean to confess…

Wha? Harry asked.

Dean gave Harry a sardonic grin. I’m gay. A faery. Light in the loafers, a butt-pirate, a poofta, a mincing nancy-boy.

It took a moment for Dean’s confession to sink in. Wait, what? I mean, how can you expect me to believe that, what with you and Ginny snogging… Harry’s voice lowered to a growl, the chest monster roaring to life.

Dean waved his hands in a warding gesture. You see? That’s just it! I mean, think about it mate. One day, you’re all buggered out from schoolwork and moping about and the next BAM you’re all about Ginny like stink on Snape! I was the same way. One day I’m drooling over Seamus’ tight arse, the next I can’t keep my hands off of Ginny!

Harry coughed, tasting a bit of vomit. Dean! I didn’t want to know that!

Dean shoved a small vial into Harry’s hand. Look, mate, just take a quick swig of this and things will be a lot clearer.

Harry gave Dean the hairy eyeball. It’s not a lust potion, is it? I mean, despite what Cho said…

Dean shook his head, smirking. No, Harry it’s not. The ol’ gay-dar never pinged around you. Ron… well, that’s a different story. It’s an antidote.

An antidote? Harry asked queerily. Dean nodded. Harry searched his dormmate’s face for any form of deception. Dean winked and made like he was kissing the air. Harry paled, but quickly sucked down the vial’s contents.

Agh Merlin that’s arse-nasty! Harry spat. Then he stopped as he felt his chest monster dying a fast and painful death. Bugger me! Harry spat (Oooh, is that an offer? Dean quipped), That bitch! I swear to Merlin I’m going to rip her to shreds with my bare hands!

Dean placed a restraining hand on Harry’s shoulder. Whoa, calm down there mate, last thing you need is a one-way trip to Azkaban. Look, is there anybody else who’s close to Ginny that’s been acting a bit, well, queerly?

Harry stopped in shock. Oh bugger me sideways with a house-elf. Hermione!

Yes, Harry? Hermione responded from the other side of the common room, a bit taken back at Harry’s explosions.

Wait a sec, Hermione. Harry called back quickly. Dean, you got another… Harry’s question was cut off by Dean waving a second vial in the air. Harry snatched it out of his grasp like it was a snitch. In a few paces, Harry ate up the distance between himself and his bushy-haired friend.

Hey, Hermione, look… I’ve got this nasty suspicion… Harry started.

Hermione glowered. If this is about Malfoy again, I don’t have time! She spat.

Harry recoiled. This wasn’t going to be easy. Look, Hermione… how about we make a deal. I’ll stop using the Half-Blood Prince’s book if agree to do one thing for me.

Hermione perked up. Really? She asked, thrilled that she might have a chance at the top spot in Potions again. Harry nodded. Alright, what do you want me to do? It won’t take long, will it? She fretted, gesturing at her half-completed essay.

Harry shook his head. Nopes, not long at all. Dean here, Harry gestured to the boy standing a couple paces back, just saved me from a very bad potion-based decision… and got me thinking. Hermione looked at him in confusion.

What does that have to do with me? She asked.

Err… well, you might have come in contact with the same thing, so I’d really appreciate it if you would just take a swig of this antidote… Harry asked hopefully.

Hermione glared at Harry. If this is a prank… she warned. Harry repeated Dean’s warning gesture.

Merlin no! I don’t want to get eaten by wild canaries! Harry replied quickly. Hermione gave him a vicious smile, and held her hand out daintily. Harry pressed the vial into her hand.

Sniffing delicately, Hermione pinched her nose shut and swallowed the contents in a single gulp. Why didn’t I think of that, Harry mused.

Probably because you, Harry, are a retard while Hermione is the brightest witch of her year. Dean replied sardonically. Harry mock-glared at Dean before returning his gaze towards Hermione.

He blanched at the pure unadulterated hatred etched onto her features. I’m going to coat that little backstabbing bitch from head to toe in caustic lye before pissing on her to activate it. Hermione hissed angrily.

Harry blinked. Um… wha?

Hermione didn’t hear Harry’s question. In fact, she didn’t seem to realize there was anybody else in the common room as she continued to rant. Oh, now I see… so, after I confess to her all of my feelings and she promises that she’s over her little crush… that worthless puddle of vagina-sweat has the temerity… the unmitigated gall… ooooh, I’m going to transfigure her into a used cunt-rag and feed her to starving vampires! Hermione screeched, oblivious to the horrified looks her fellow Gryffindors gave her. I’m going to charm her into a toad-shaped dildo and mail her to Umbridge as a Christmas present! I’m going to dose that putrescent little herpes cancer with the same bloody potion, the potion I helped her brew ‘for extra credit’ no less, and make sure it’s attuned to Draco, Snape, Filch and the entire Hufflepuff quidditch team! Lets see how ‘precious’ likes getting bukkaked by the entire Slytherin house!

Oh, I’m pretty sure she already knows what it feels like, Dean coughed into his hand.

Hermione transfixed Dean with a deathly glare, making the poor ponce nearly piss his trousers. Fortunately for Dean, Ron and Lavender flounced into the room connected at the lips. The entire common room tensed, getting ready to flee from the impending doom. Hermione simply smiled warmly at her best friend. Ron, you really should take that to a broom closet. It’s a bit tacky.

Ron and Lavender broke their kiss and stared at Hermione in shock. Ron froze while Lavender examined her roommate’s face for any hint of sarcasm. Finding none, Lavender smiled sheepishly and nodded to her. Sorry about that… it’s just Won-won is soooooo cute.

Hermione’s face screwed up in disgust. Lavender, please. I just ate.

What do you mean by that! Ron said, adrenaline making him even more foolish than normal.

Hermione wasn’t taking the bait. Not now, Ron. I’ve got more important targets and I’d like to save it all for her. Hermione said ‘her’ in the same tone one discusses pedophilic lawyers. Ron blanched. Err, right. Pity the poor sot that’s got your panties that knotted— In a fit of self-preservation, Lavender silenced her imbecilic beau with a chaste, but firm, kiss.

Ron, why don’t we go someplace a little more private, Lavender suggested. Ron dumbly nodded, letting the smarter of his two heads guide his actions.

Hermione smiled primly as the pair left the room. Now, where was I? Oh yes, she said softly. When i’m done with that red-headed bitch there won’t be enough left of her for the house elves to clean up!

At that moment Ginny walked in through the common room door and gave Hermione a little smirk. Herms, maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey about your monthly—

Whatever words Ginny was about to utter were lost as Hermione launched herself bodily towards her new-found nemesis. Dean and Harry blanched at the horrific violence in front of them.

You know, I’m the one she bloody raped, Dean said with a shudder. Harry put his hand on Dean’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

Well, after Hermione’s done do you want to come with me to see McGonagall, so we can press charges? Harry asked quietly.

Dean shrugged. Don’t think there’s gonna be much left to charge, he said morosely. And I wanted to kill the bitch… He said with a whine as a bloody patch of red hair flew through the air and slapped against his chest.

Harry paused for a moment, and considered his new friend. Is it wrong that I’m getting a pretty major stiffy from this?

Dean sniffed. Of course! It’s not me, after all!

Aftermath

Tommy King

Daily Prophet 2^nd August

Mysterious Limbs Appear In Wizarding Tourist Traps

Rita Skeeter Reporting

In a Press Release from the DMLE, the incompetent Aurors are asking for our wonderful readership to aid them solve a mystery that has been handed to them.

A pale skinned freckled right arm was discovered in the centre of the Holy Circle at Stonehenge late yesterday afternoon, every bone in the limb and attached hand was found to be broken and the skin had been peeled from the palm of the hand and the fingertips, an further anonymous source informed us that the raw wounds had been rubbed with salt.

Other limbs in similar condition appeared at the shrine to the Potters in Godric’s Hollow, the front steps of Gringotts Bank, the War Memorial in Hogsmeade. Two ears and a tongue were found lying on Platform 9¾ at Kings Cross Station and an extremely small penis was found floating on the Fountain of Magical Brotherhood in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

Aurors say this was either a brutal attack or the worst Splinching Incident since Sydney Splinch’s name became synonymous with this accident.

Any information on these limbs would be appreciated and should be given to the D.M.L.E.

The Quibbler 2^nd August

Mystery Torso And Head Appear At St. Mungo’s

Miss Terryus Reporting

While on a routine assignment at St. Mungo’s tracking down a rumour of a Nargle infection, your reporter witnessed the unusual arrival of a human torso with only the head attached arrive at the admissions desk in this fine establishment.

The body was conscious but unable to communicate as the tongue had been removed.

To add to the mystery, as the thing appeared a voice was heard to shout. You can ride my broom and copy my homework, but never touch my Pocky!

In next week’s edition in our Creature Feature we will report on what kind of animal a Pocky is and in what habitat you can find it.

p.s. If you happen to have any spare limbs, ears, a tongue or a penis, St. Mungo’s is looking for donations.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Caught Ron trying to grope Daphne when she wasn’t looking. Broke his fingers.

Caught Ron trying to grope Hermione with his other hand. Broke those fingers too.

Female population seem to be wearing skimpier and skimpier clothing. Mrs. Weasley is apoplectic.

Later,

— Harry.

Nick Jinks

Dear Journal,

Went to Gringotts about upgrading the curses on statements. Cost a pretty penny but got them to curse all mail with required measures.

A permanent hair loss curse removable only by Gringotts manager. As if they care about a wizard’s problems? Especially when I will pay them a bonus for every Failed attempt to remove the curse.

I also got a clause added to statements stating Reading without permission forfeits owners gold and property to Potter trust.

I suspect the Goblins will be delivering all the Dumbledore deeds, gold and property — including Albus’s private library — to the main Potter vault within the week, Snape’s within the day, and the property of the female Weasleys within the next few hours — whatever Arthur entitled them to that is.

Still getting cold shoulder from girls. Am tempted to lock self in room with all 3 for explanation.

Later,

— Harry.

— Who cannot wait for Snape to beg for his books back.

Cloneserpents

Dear Journal,

Had a peculiar dream where three angels were licking my toes — woke up with wet feet.

Found Ron playing pocket quidditch with himself while following Hermione. Outed him in an instant and Hermione took her time making the git cry.

Molly has begun bemoaning her financial woes. Said: If only a rich young man would marry my beautiful daughter… Rest of statement was lost when I ran from room.

Later,

— Harry.

Nick Jinks

Dear Journal,

Found Hedwig quite annoyed this morning with big clump long red hair in beak. Suspect Ginny or Molly tried to charm her into taking my post via them.

Have hidden hair in sock draw and am researching useful potions to stop potential problems in future. Possibly debilitating thought potion keyed to Ginny, so she is violently sick when she thinks about me.

Am tempted to ask for help from girls in drugging Ginny, but suspect scolding from Hermione, lecturing from Susan and smirking from Daphne.

Heard moaning from Ron’s room today and found door ajar. Found Ron rubbing Hermione’s copy of Hogwarts: A History around his nether regions.

Stunned and Obliviated Ron then cleaned book with double strength Scourgify, before returning it to Hermione with extracted memory of event in cooked vial. Suspect significant amount of healing charms and potions will be needed after Hermione is through with Ron.

Later,

— Harry.

jemknight2003

Dear Journal,

Came across the girls (minus Ginny, of course) in the garden today. You know, back at Hogwarts I never realized Hermione was such good friends with Daphne and Susan.

I mean good friends.

Maybe next time Hermione invites me to join her study group, I will.

Later,

— Harry.

Dan Yetman

There was a poisoned silence that hung heavy in the air, laden with an almost unbearable dread. Harry’s eyes dropped to his trainers, examining the fascinating patters made by the duct tape that held the battered pieces of rubber and leather together.

I just thought you should know, he stated softly. I’m sorry.

Helena Granger’s nostrils flared as she inhaled sharply. Harry, she said tersely, do you mean to tell us that the Weasley boys have seen us naked? That they willfully invaded our privacy for their own perverse amusement?

Harry nodded mournfully. Yes, Mrs. Granger. The silence was shattered by a cacophony of outraged shrieks and calls for an act of retribution that made Harry’s face turn pale and cross his legs at the mere thought. Tonks’ hairs cycled wildly through an increasingly-vivid display of bright, violent colours, and Fleur’s demi-human heritage became infinitely more believable on account of the bursts of greenish eldritch fire that began to crackle around her. Susan reflexively covered her breasts with her arm, and even though the two Greengrass women’s only reaction was to narrow their eyes, it was an act that carried a sinister air about it.

Hermione, though, curled in on herself, protecting what little dignity had not been forcibly stripped away from her from a family who she had been proud to consider trustworthy. Harry moved towards her, but a sharp word from Helena stopped him in his tracks.

Harry. The word was a gunshot, causing a rampant outbreak of quiet amongst the previously raging females, aside from the younger Granger woman, who began to hyperventilate noisily. Mrs. Granger took four quick, sharp steps forward to catch The-Chin-of-The-Boy-Who-Lived between her fingers. Green eyes were raised to meet brown as the mother of his best friend force his chin up. Harry, answer me this: did you look in on us?

Of all the damnable questions! If possible, Harry’s face reflected even more shame. Yes, Mrs. Granger.

Out of consideration to the fact that you brought this to our attention, the older Granger said sternly as she let go of the last Potter’s chin and crossed her arms severely, and because of your forthrightness, I’m going to allow you to explain that answer. Just hope that I find it to my satisfaction, Harry.

I didn’t mean to, Mrs. Granger! Harry cried. Bill and Charlie and the others were all talking about legs and bums and all manner of strange things, and they were all in one place, so I wanted to know what was going on. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to believe what I thought they were doing, so when the left, I looked. I saw Hermione, Susan, and Daphne sitting around in the bath. He raised his hands in a defensive manner as Daphne took a menacing step forward. I swear that I didn’t intend to see them naked! I looked away as soon as I realised what was going on, I promise I did!

Swear it, Harry, Hermione said faintly, and all eyes turned towards the brunette. There was a haunted look on her face as she stared at Harry, still hugging her knees to her chest. Swear it on your magic. Without any sort of hesitation at all, the last Potter whipped his wand out, raised it in the air, and said:

I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic and my life that I did not intentionally see Hermione Granger, Susan Bones, or Daphne Greengrass naked, and that I find the actions of the Weasleys who did so to be morally repugnant. Furthermore, I have far too much respect for those women to have ever even considered doing so. So mote it be! With a flash of white light, the oath was sealed.

Jaws hung loose in the stunned silence that followed the declaration, which was only broken when Daphne arched an eyebrow and dryly said, Morally repugnant, Potter?

Well, you can’t stick around Hermione for almost six years without picking something up, Harry said with a blush, the barest instant before Hermione launched herself at him with a loud squeal of Harry!. Caught off-balance, Harry teetered comically on his feet for an impossibly long moment before gravity decided to step in and took them both to the floor.

What? What does that mean? Helena Granger demanded. What just happened?

It means that if he had even contemplated perving on us, he’d have dropped down and bit the big one without even enough magic to become a ghost afterward, Tonks stated flatly. The pink-haired Auror watched as the bushy-haired Gryffindor covered her friend’s face with kisses with a considering sort of smile. Cor, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for in enthusiasm, don’t she?

That’s not fair! Susan pouted.

Why? Because she beat you to it? Daphne said with a smirk.

Yes!

I think, Anastasia Greengrass said as she fingered her wand, that it’s about time we had a… chat… with the Weasley men regarding boundaries and just what constitutes gentlemanly behaviour. Locking eyes with her daughter, she said, You three can handle being alone with Harry for a bit, can’t you?

I will stay, Fleur stated primly, to make sure zat ‘Arry is ‘andled properly. This she said without the slightest hint of embarrassment, despite the glaringly obvious double-entendre. By this time, Hermione had stopped kissing her best friend, but still had him locked in an inescapable Hermi-Hug.

I think it would help for the girls to have an older woman around, Tonks agreed, to say nothing of my being an Auror. I’ll make sure that nothing comes up.

Unless we want it to, Daphne said impishly, which elicited a slightly embarrassed twitter from the redheaded Hufflepuff girl. Helena Granger looked meaningfully to her daughter, who responded with a blush and a nod.

Ana, Mrs. Granger said to the Greengrass Matriarch, I think we have an appointment with some young men. The other woman nodded with a feral smile, and they swept out of the room, violence at the forefront of their minds. The instant the door clicked shut, Tonks and Fleur hit it with several different locking and silence charms before turning to regard the shell-shocked form of The-Boy-Who-Lived, who was sitting up with his left arm currently in possession of the female third of the Golden Trio.

Harry, Daphne purred as she draped herself across the boy’s back, I think you’ve done a very noble thing.

And noble things deserve appreciation, right, Daph? Susan smiled, taking her place opposite Hermione on Harry’s right arm.

Let no good deed go unrewarded, Fleur agreed, playing with the drawstring on her pajama pants.

Tonks simply tossed her tank top in the corner of the room, causing Harry’s eyes to go wide as he realised that the Auror clearly considered bras to be a broad suggestion.

Tonks!

Bollocks to all that cutesy shite, Tonks retorted, working the buttons on her shorts. Let’s get this orgy started!

Not part of my sick and twisted bit, but… CRACK!

KafkaExMachina

… because I got another one of those horrible crack filled plot bunnies that won’t let go.

Prologue:

Death, Fate, Destiny and Time were drunk. Very very very drunk. They’d blown past tipsy, completely ignored the ‘three-sheets to the wind’, flew beyond ‘pissed’ and were now quite contentedly simmering at ’Absolutely pants-off puking shit-faced.’

It was in this state that the Elder Beings came up with, perhaps, the worst idea ever.

Even worse than the Merlin Debacle of ‘73.

It’d started out ordinarily enough. Death and Destiny were having a mutual bitch-fest about the intergalactic cluster-fuck known as Harry Potter’s life. Death couldn’t stop pissing and moaning about how Albus Dumbledore’d managed to fuck up not one, but two fucking prophecies, and because of his creative mind-buggery Death was never going to get his damned wand, cloak, and rock back.

Destiny, on the other hand, was still piss-faced fuming over the fact that not only was her beautiful plans for a generation pissed down the drain, but instead not a single motherfucking one of the mortals managed to actually fulfill their bloody destiny, resulting in yet another batch of half-arsed souls getting reincarnated on earth. Heaven was not amused that they’d missed their quota. Angels don’t grow on trees, you know? Well, they could… but the Big Hat upstairs didn’t like that idea.

So, whilst the erstwhile pair were busily getting blitzed, who saunters in smelling vaguely of brimstone but Fate herself. Not one to let petty politics get in the way of a good piss-session, Death waved her over and bought her a round. It seems Fate had even more bloody pent-up frustration over the whole mess than Destiny. Not only had one very deserving bastard manage to skip out of the Fate he’d earned, but now she was forced to recycle the most tattered excuse for a soul ever! It appears that Tom Riddle’s fate was to die at the hands of the very boy he’d tried to kill, but nooooo… the manipulative old arsehat managed to bugger that up so badly that Tom died of some odd suicidal spat, effectively saving him from a nice happy stay at Hotel Hell. To make matters worse, that pontificating patronizing ponce even managed to bugger up every single Death Eater’s Fate, so Hell was most displeased that their quota of fresh Demon Fodder was also remarkably low.

Around that time, or perhaps before it ever happened, Time decides to stop by the Ethereal Bar. His/her/it’s irritation was of far greater consequence. It seems that not only had the natural order of things been buggered up beyond all possible repair, but the only two soulmates of the bloody generation were off humping other people. This, unfortunately, meant that there was now a great dearth of fresh souls, which meant Time had to scramble across the tangled web of possibilities to hunt down enough fresh souls to fill all the babies popping up. Otherwise, it was Apocalypse for that dimension, and Time’d grown rather fond of the lager.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, fucks with Time’s lager.

And so it was that the drunken conversation took a most disastrous turn.

We’ve got to fix this mess, Death slurred. I mean, come on, it’s been a bloody millennia already. I want my wand back!

Sod yer bloody toys, Time snorted, there’s an incoming Apocalypse and I’ve grown rather fond of this lager.

Wait… I’ve got it! Fate exclaimed in an inebriated frenzy. Why don’t we send some poor bastard back with all their memories, and let them take care of this mess for us?

Destiny shook her head. Not gonna happen. You know what the Head Honcho says. No more sending people back. I think we all remember what happened with that Merlin shit.

Fate and Death nodded solemnly.

Time harrumphed. Well I thought it turned out bloody brilliantly.

Death snorted. That’s just because the fall of Atlantis meant that your bloody precious lager was invented.

Well, I rather like my lager, Time mumbled softly. The rest of the Immortals rolled their eyes.

Fate looked despondent, until in a tippled flash inspiration overcame her. I’ve got it. Look, the Law says no Human can get sent back, right?

Death nodded, looking at Fate suspiciously.

Well, what if we send back a magical creature instead? Fate said excitedly.

Death nodded again. Well, I suppose that could work, but what bloody use would that be? I mean, what’s a Hippogriff going to do, or even a bloody dragon?

Destiny nodded at Death. Exactly. I mean, where are we going to find a magical creature loony enough to actually go back, anyhow.

Excuse me Immortal sirs, a small figure said, almost buckling under the large tray filled with tasty alcoholic beverages, Dobby has your order ready.

The four Immortals stared at their little waiter, and as one smiled.

Err… is there something on Dobby’s face?

TBC

Where Harry is honest.

Lord of Bones

Harry stared.

And stared again.

It wasn’t very often that he got to see this.

Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Ron were grouped around and facing one of his ancestral manor’s walls, jostling and pushing for better positions. Every so often, he heard crude laughter and comments like Great arse!, Look at those tits! and Merlin, those legs are endless!

He had a sinking feeling about what was going on. He didn’t want to believe it, but…

Harry shook his head and waited until the Weasley boys moved away and left the room, still chattering about whatever (or whoever, he thought darkly) they had seen. He moved to the wall, immediately noticing the small hole bored in the wall; just large enough to see through.

He put his eye to the hole, then gaped.

Hermione, Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass (whose parents were members of the Order, strangely enough) were lounging in the large bath, quietly talking about something. He reeled back in shock, yanking his head away from the wall.

Harry couldn’t deny that he was a healthy, red-blooded male that enjoyed looking at beautiful women. But he had limits.

Violating the privacy of his guests and friends was something he had no intention of doing. After the debacle that was his school years, he knew what it was like to be gawked, laughed at, admired and treated like a possession, a tool or a piece of meat.

And while he was attracted to all three of the girls, he had no intention of inflicting that on anyone. The Boy-Who-Lived looked up, hearing the sounds of footsteps on the floorboards. He turned away and quickly made his way out of the adjacent door, disappearing just as the rest of the Weasley boys barged in.

He would wait till night.

And wait, he did.

Harry tip-toed past the boys’ bedroom, feeling an irrational surge of anger at the discussion about the girls, followed by shock at the discussion about Mrs. Granger, Mrs. Greengrass, Tonks and Fleur. Oh, hell. Gingerly he made his way to the girls’ bedroom, knocking on the door.

Come in, called out Hermione’s voice.

He opened the door and stepped in.

Then he froze.

Daphne, Susan, Hermione, Fleur, Tonks, Helena Granger and Anastasia Greengrass were all there.

Bugger. Some of his apprehension must have shown up on his face as Tonks called out, Why so glum, Harry?

Harry took a deep breath before explaining. Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and Ron drilled a hole in the wall connected to the your bathroom; and probably your bathrooms too, Mrs. Greengrass, Mrs. Granger. I just found out this morning after I saw them peeping through the hole. They’ve also done the same to the other bathrooms, judging from the way they were discussing your… erm… physical attributes when I passed by their room.

The burial of the tragic Wesley family had to be stopped when a wild Black Dragon attacked the cortege, incinerating the coffins. Another two deaths were reported, Albus Dumbledore (you know the titles) and Snivellous Snipe heroically gave their lives defending the other mourners.

Seel’vor

Dear Journal,

Found mound of hair in bathroom drain this morning. Not entirely sure where it’s from. Is distinctly three colours, too.

Oh, I hope Ron’s not been naughty in my bathroom.

Later,

— Harry.

It’s a mixed blessing

Lord of Bones

Hermione shrieked as another orgasm tore through her, the man behind her unceasing in his relentless thrusts. She held back a pleasured whimper as Harry laved the junction between her neck and shoulder with his tongue, cupping and toying with her firm breasts with calloused hands. Just next to her, Daphne watched their husband with something akin to awe. The raven-tressed woman looked exhausted and extremely satiated — the marathon sex-session she’d been put through had seen to that.

Finally, just as Hermione thought she was going to black out from the sensory overload, she felt Harry animalistically growl into her ear. Her back arched as her final orgasm surged through her; her inner muscles tightening around Harry’s powerful, spurting cock. The Lady Potter collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily as her husband nuzzled the back of her neck tenderly. Gently, he nudged her to the front of the bed, where Daphne was watching. He took his usual place in the middle, letting his wives flank him.

Hermione and Daphne shared a significant glance over Harry’s chest, tag-teaming him by gently massaging his arms and chest. Soon, the dragon animagus was fast asleep, arms draped over his wives. Slowly, the two women slipped out of his embrace and left the bedroom, knowing that they didn’t have much time until he woke up again.

We’re going to need help, commented Hermione as she followed Daphne down the Manor’s steps.

Can’t handle it on your own, Hermione? teased Daphne gently.

You were the one who blacked out after the twelfth orgasm, Daph! retorted the brown-haired witch. The Slytherin pouted at that. It’s not my fault stud gets superhuman stamina at this time of year, she said snarkily.

I think the fact that he can keep up with two women at the same time on a regular basis indicates significantly higher than average stamina, said Hermione dryly.

That didn’t mean Daphne was wrong though, reflected Hermione. This particular time of the year was mating season for dragons; and Harry was a dragon animagus. Only, instead of the compulsion to breed every female in sight, it resulted in Harry having a near-insatiable sex drive and almost godly stamina, along with draconic instincts — no more kisses, snuggles or soft proclamations of affection; instead being replaced by growls and roars.

The first time the instinct had surfaced, Harry had barricaded himself in the Manor’s left wing. Only after his frantic lovers had broken though the maze of wards he’d placed on his door did a visibly stressed and conflicted Harry blurt out the truth.

And ravished them so thoroughly they weren’t able to walk straight for weeks.

For an entire fortnight. Every few hours.

Hermione still winced at that. There was such thing as too much of mind-blowing sex.

We’re going to have to get others in on this. We can’t control Harry’s sexual appetite at this point, she said regretfully.

You want pimp out our husband?! said a shocked Daphne.

Wha-N-No! replied a furiously blushing Hermione. What I mean is, we gather friends we whose discretion we can trust and let them… um… take care of Harry’s needs along with us.

Daphne stared at her.

Then they heard the growl.

Without missing a beat, Hermione turned around and fell to her knees, letting Harry come within range before engulfing the crown of his massive erection within her mouth. Behind her, Daphne guided Harry’s mouth to her chest, letting her husband suckle her nipple.

They’d have to put Hermione’s plan into action tomorrow.

The planned ‘friends’ were Fleur, Tracey, Padma and Susan. I’m undecided on whether to continue this or not; anyone who wants to in the interim can go ahead.

dark_perceptor

Dear Journal,

Walked in on Ron today, one hand down his trousers, the other holding open a cookbook.

I’m never sitting next to him at dinner again.

Later,

— Harry.

Tommy King

Dear Journal,

Saw several Weasleys practice their Animagus forms.

Molly was a leech.

Ron was a sloth.

The twins were jackasses.

Ginny was a shrew.

… Makes me understand why my mum is a fox!

Later,

— Harry.

Magnamorbius

Dear Journal,

Have cursed bank statements and newest stash of pocky with bowel-loosening curse. Have sealed all but one bathroom.

Have placed 5 Galleons on Molly winning via Daphne’s new betting syndicate.

Woke up with wet toes, and lipstick rings round penis. Looks like it’s wearing a scarf.

Hermione asked for a low-protein breakfast from the imps, as she had eaten some delicious protein from the tap last night.

Deep sleep sucks.

Later.

— Harry.

Dear Journal

Lord of Bones

Just some silliness. Contributions are encouraged.

Dear Journal,

Boxer shorts missing. Am suspecting Ginny.

Watched Ron try to flirt with Hermione. Resisted urge to turn him into a pretzel.

Got newest case of pocky today. Will have to hide case from Ron. Pockyless!Harry = Murderous Psychopath!Harry.

Later,

— Harry.

Lord of Bones

Dear Journal,

Took walk around grounds. Heard Ginny plan on removing mum’s flowerbed during wedding. Resisted urge to implode her.

Found parents’ manuscripts on spellmaking and enchanting. Hid them from Dumbledore and Molly.

Have found that Chinese tea is soothing. Must remind imps to stock more.

Luckily, no-one knows about dragon animagus form. Damn hard to resist urge to fly.

Later,

— Harry.

Where Harry has the Power of Love.

Lord of Bones

Hermione stared.

And stared some more.

Harry just wasn’t himself anymore.

She had expected Harry to be many things after Sirius’s death. Depressed, angry, somber, bitter, vengeful…

She had spent three months worrying about his mental and physical state, ever since the ride from Hogwarts. Every letter she sent, every phone call she had made…

Then Harry had replied, saying that someone had been teaching him new magic, that he missed her and that he had a new outlet for his frustrations; begging her not to tell anyone and telling her to wait till school started.

So she did.

And three months later, she almost had a heart attack.

Harry had changed.

Gone was the awkwardness, the shyness, the hand-me-downs.

Harry had been wearing flowing light-blue robes, a yellow wizard’s hat and gloves; a comical ensemble that Harry had somehow made to look intimidating. And then came the personality changes. Harry had gone from shy and stuttering to sarcastic, cynical and somewhat homicidal.

He literally roasted Malfoy. With wandless magic.

To say nothing of his stabbings of an increasingly oblivious Ron.

Then there were the flirting and the cheesy, crude, lewd, ridiculous yet somehow surprisingly effective pick-up lines. While she had known that Harry considered her a girl, his calm statement of It’s criminal to hide that sexy, tight little arse of yours behind robes, had her blushing straight for a week. That, and his newfound interest in the opposite sex.

Hermione took some pride in that Harry was actively flirting with three others, including her; especially considering two of those were considered the best-looking in their respective houses. She still remembered the look on Daphne Greengrass’s face when Harry delivered a very crude and lewd yet blush-worthy comment about her legs.

Harry had also become more…insulting as of late, with pointed comments towards Zacharias Smith, Snape, Malfoy…hell, virtually everyone else that generally involved blood, screams, fire and maniacal laughter.

Hermione decided she really didn’t want to know.

And now, here they were, fighting against the Death-Eaters that had infiltrated the school. Voldemort’s servants were retreating, fleeing into the Forest.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Harry cup his hands forward. A blue glow blazed to life.

Hadoken!

A blue ray of energy blasted out towards the Forest.

With a ‘boom’, the Forbidden Forest was vaporized. Hermione stared wide-eyed. Wha-what was that?!

Harry smiled evilly. The power of Love.

Where Lavender poses a question.

Matt

Well, this sorta just fell out of my fingertips. Whether from boredom or not, I’ll never know. but I figured since I know a place where H/Hr is accepted, I figured I’d see how everyone here took it.

The Gryffindor Common Room was a bastion of warmth against the cold blizzard that raged outside in the early evening. The fireplace burned with bright embers and the logs cracked in the silence.

Sat in the chairs around the fire were two of the seven Gryffindors remaining for the Winter Holidays; Harry Potter and Lavender Brown. Lavender wasn’t exactly Harry’s best friend, nothing more than a house-mate when it came down to it, but with Hermione spending time with her books in the library and the Weasley’s in Romania (again), Harry was happy for her company.

They had sat in silence, Harry reading through an article about quidditch, and Lavender reading Teen Witch Weekly, so it was enough to give Harry a start when Lavender spoke up.

Hey, Harry? Can I ask you a question?

With a hand on his heart and a wary look at the Gryffindor Gossip, Harry nodded his head.

Are you gay?

Whatever Harry had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. What? No! I like women!

Lavender nodded patiently, as if she had been expecting this. Are you sure?

Yes! Harry said, his voice rising in his disbelief.

Then can you explain something to me?

What?

Lavender gave him a look of superiority. How come Ron tells everyone differently?

Harry began to sputter and turned red in the face. What?!

Lavender hurried to try and calm him down. There’s nothing to be ashamed of! It doesn’t really matter whether you like men or—

I’m not gay! Harry yelled, his mind thinking of the painful things he’d like to do to Ron at that very minute.

Lavender’s face had gone from calm and expectant to slightly unsure. But Ron said—

Ron’s an idiot! Harry was almost ready to pull out his hair. That red head would be getting it when he got back from Romania. Who all did he tell?

Lavender looked down and played with her hands. Just me and Parvati when we asked if you liked any particular girl…

Harry could have cried. Ron had told people he was gay, and not only that, but he’d told the biggest gossips in the school! As far as Harry was concerned, Ron was a dead-man.

Lavender, listen to me. He said, speaking slowly as if to a child with an oddly calm voice for how outraged he was. I am not gay.

Lavender nodded slowly, before a look of defiance begun to shine in her eyes. Okay then. Prove it.

Harry was knocked off track. What?

You heard me. Prove it.

Harry was a bit thrown. How?

Lavender smirked. Name a girl you like. Right now.

Harry was immediately thrown for a loop. Thinking quickly, trying to save his reputation, he blurted the first girl he thought of. Hermione.

Lavender looked like she’d just hit the jackpot as the realization of what he had just said hit him. She squee’d, and a flurry of questions Harry couldn’t make out battered against his ears.

Wait a minute! How do I know you’re not making this up?

Harry panicked. How could I prove it?

Lavender gave a look like Harry had just given her the Christmas had just come four days early and Harry began to dread the rest of the winter Holidays.

I was gonna add more, but I wanted to see what everyone’s opinion of this was so far. Continue? No? Go out to the barn and shoot myself?

I’m so very, very sorry

Lost Grandfather Returns

Harry gets a new guest.

Ron (Huh!) What is He Good For? (Absolutely Nothing!) Say it Again…

Where Harry is cured.

Hogwarts Rules & Regulations

Hermione hears a horcrux.

In which Percy gets what’s coming to him.

Where the Wizengamot is daft.

Where the Pocky goes missing.

Where Harry’s Grandfather visits.

A tiny Drabble

Potion!Ginny pays the price.

In which Dean and Harry have a conversation.

Aftermath

Not part of my sick and twisted bit, but… CRACK!

Where Harry is honest.

It’s a mixed blessing

Dear Journal

Where Harry has the Power of Love.

Where Lavender poses a question.

Where Harry has a Servant.