Content Harry Potter
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Harry and everyone

 

HARRY…

The sun disappeared and a crack of sound shattered the silence of the potions classroom, causing the students to scream, and Professor Snape to shriek like a little girl.

The anonymous Fan Fiction author frowned.   Snape was sexy…she couldn’t have him screaming like a little girl.   No, the line just didn’t work.   Placing her curser just so, she erased the sentence and tried again.

It was a dark and stormy…day.   The only light in the potions classroom came from the fires under the student’s cauldrons.

"You have the ingredients for your brewing.   You have one hour to complete the potion.   Begin," Snape said, sneering at the class.

Harry rolled his eyes at the Professor’s sneer and turned to the ingredients spread out before him.   He let his mind wander a bit as he cut, chopped, shredded and tore the various leaves, legs and innards the potion called for.   As he began adding them to his cauldron, he became aware of a looming figure behind him.

"What are you doing, Sir?" Harry asked quietly, not looking at the Professor.

"Watch your potion, Mr. Potter," Snape growled.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, trying not to sigh.   The man really is too much, he thought.   How does he expect us to brew potions when he looms over us like some greasy bat?   He never hounds his bloody Slytherins!   He should be fired for his…hang on!   Did he just pinch my arse?

"Sir?" Harry squeaked questioningly.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter.   I told you, watch your potion!" Snape said menacingly.

"Yes, Sir, I know.   But did you just…I mean…" He trailed off with a shudder, unable to complete the thought.

"Did I just what, Mr. Potter?" Snape’s voice was husky and Harry’s eyes widened as he felt another pinch.

Panicked, not knowing what else to do, Harry leaned away from the Professor and bumped into his cauldron.   It teetered for a moment over the fire before turning over and hitting the floor with a loud crash.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter!" Snape bellowed as he jumped back from the quickly spreading liquid.   "Out, all of you!   Gather your things and leave.   Everyone receives an incomplete for this assignment!"

Not caring that the entire class was now staring daggers at him, Harry gathered his things in a rush and bolted from the room, trying not to throw up.   Snape had pinched his arse!

As he tore up the stairs from the dungeons, he passed two fifth year girls making out on a stairwell.   He paused for a moment, strangely aroused by the sight, before pushing on to the Great Hall.

"Harry!   Wait up, will you?" a voice cried from behind him.

Reaching the landing of the main floor, Harry paused and caught his breath while he waited for his friends to catch up.

"Why didn’t you wait?" Ron asked a few moments later.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione asked, scowling.

"I don’t want to talk about it," he muttered, walking into the Great Hall.

"Knocking over that cauldron earned me an incomplete!" she raged at him. "Whether you want to or not, you’re going to tell me what happened or I’ll curse you into next week!"

"Okay, okay.   Geez, touchy much?" Harry grumbled, stopping just inside the doors.   "You won’t believe this but…well, Snape pinched my arse…twice!"

Hermione frowned and Ron looked puzzled.   "So?" the redhead asked, clearly confused.

"Ron!   He pinched my arse.   A man…the greasy git…pinched my arse!"

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed.   "Believe it or not, I understood you the first time.   Now, would you like to explain where the problem lies?"

"Where the problem…" Harry sputtered.

"Was it because it was Snape who did it?" Hermione asked.

"Yes…I mean no…I mean.   Ah!   Don’t you two get it?   A man pinched my arse.   What was I supposed to do, stand there and enjoy it?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, before turning back to Harry.   As one, they said, "Of course."

Harry would later swear that everyone in the Great Hall heard his jaw hit the floor.

"Come on, Harry.   Haven’t you been paying attention?   Look around you, mate," Ron said, the laughter clear in his voice.

Gazing around the rapidly filling Great Hall, his eyes bulged.   There were couples making out at various tables.   That, in itself, was unusual, as the Professor’s frowned on public displays of affection. None of the adults were putting a stop to it however, and were, in fact, engaging in their own bit of tonsil hockey.   That was unheard of!   But that still wasn’t the last of it. No, the last of it was that most of the couples were of the same gender.   And while Harry adjusted himself a bit as he watched Padma and Lavender make out, the reason for that adjustment disappeared rapidly once he spied Draco Malfoy in a lip lock with Crabbe.

"Oh, gods," he choked, trying to hold back the rising bile. "Why do fanfic authors insist on throwing me into slash stories?   I’m not gay!"

"I think he’s protesting a little too much, Ron," Hermione said, her eyes dancing.

"I agree.   Come on, mate.   If you’re nice, I’ll let you join Dean and me later tonight.   We’ll break you in nice and easy," he said with a leer.

"Break me in?" Harry said, turning his stunned eyes towards Ron.

"Of course.   I mean, if you’re going to turn Snape down…" Ron trailed off seeing the shudder run through Harry’s body.

"Hermione?" Harry asked in a whisper.   "I thought you and Ron would be dating… or something…"

"Ron and I?   Oh please," Hermione said, laughing.   "I’m screwing Pansy Parkinson!"

Harry turned away from her and gazed out over the Great Hall, studiously avoiding the Head table and what was going on there. "Am I the only straight person at Hogwarts?" he asked in disbelief.

"’Fraid so," Ron said, clapping him on the shoulder.   "But don’t worry, we can change that."   He then ran his hand down Harry’s back.  

Before Ron’s hand could reach his arse, he sprung away.   Spinning around, his eyes met Ron’s amused gaze and he glared.   "I know an incredibly painful castration spell, Weasley, and I’m not afraid to use it!   Spread the word!"

Marching from the Great Hall, Harry swallowed heavily.   He could take anything but this.   Fucking fanfic authors, he raged once more.

VOLDEMORT…

"WORMTAIL!" shouted Voldemort before he reached down and gently stroked his snake, Nagini.

A moment later Wormtail rushed into the room. Voldemort blinked in surprise, then again in shock. Then he growled and pounded on the arm of his leather throne. His eyes narrowed as he looked around and spotted the collection of spiked dildos hanging from the walls.

"Damn it! Wormtail, don’t tell me this is another slash fic!" Voldemort snapped.

Wormtail, dressed in black motorcycle leathers, a leather vest and a motorcycle cap, nodded enthusiastically.

"Argh! I hate slash fics! Stupid slash authors invent amazingly impossible plots. I should kill you all for this!" he growled.

Wormtail spun around, showing a pair of bare buttocks, and shouted, "OH, spank me, Master!"

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Summon Malfoy!" he snapped.

Wormtail looked up from stuffing a hamster into a tube and nodded, running from the room. The hamster, looking extraordinary relieved, scrambled to the floor, where Nagini ate it.

A moment later a very naked and very angry looking Malfoy shuffled into the room. In front of him was an equally embarrassed Cornelius Fudge.

Voldemort blinked in surprise, then once again in shock, and finally in loathing.

"Do I want to know what the hell you two are doing?" asked Voldemort dryly.

Malfoy looked annoyed and mumbled something under his breath.

"What? Lucius, speak up or I’ll curse you!" the Dark Lord snapped, quickly loosing what little patience he had with his henchman.

"Well, you see, I was giving Cornelius his daily instructions and Nott replaced my bottle of Wizzie Lube with Wizzie super glue!"

Voldemort buried his face in his hands. It was an improvement. "This can’t be happening to me," he moaned.

"Oh no, my lord. It wouldn’t happen to you. I make sure your lube is good every night," offered Wormtail, then he looked annoyed. "Has anyone seen my hamster?"

"Alright! Enough of this crap! We’ll try one evil plot and if it doesn’t work, I’m leaving this story! Malfoy, I’ve looked up the birth records and your son is one/two millionth part Veela. I want him to use his Veela powers to put Harry Potter under a spell and get him pregnant. He’ll be so fucked up with hormones that he’ll not be able to fight me!"

Malfoy looked at him strangely. "You want Draco, my son, to get Potter, the son of James Potter, pregnant?"

Voldemort nodded and laughed maniacally. "It can’t fail! And if it does, I’ll turn your boy into a girl!"

"Here hamster, here hamster," whined Wormtail plaintively.

"Wormtail!   Leave the bloody rodent alone and concentrate!" the Dark Lord screeched.

 

Hogwarts…

After Harry left the Great Hall, our stalwart Fan Fic Slash Author lifted the ceiling of the Great Hall and handed Draco a new copy of the plot. Draco’s eyes lit up and he immediately sported a woody because that’s what evil, one/two millionth part Veelas do.

Standing, he immediately peeled down to his speedos. Millicent sighed lustily. Draco looked at Millicent in disgust and Snape killed her for being straight. No Slytherin was allowed to be straight and live!   Not while he was Head of Slytherin!  

"I am Veela! Hear me roar!" shouted Draco, climbing atop the table.

"Oh, you go girl!" shouted Ginny back at him.

"Strut it, muffin man!" yelled Professor Flitwick.

At that point, all of the boys in the Great Hall stood and danced up to the front of the room singing, ‘It’s Raining Men’.

The boys began high kicking and several of the Gryffindor Quidditch team boys swung from bars. A disco ball dropped from the ceiling and Draco leapt from table to table, showing off his firm arse.

The music changed and the boys picked up with the tune of the Village People’s ‘In The Navy.’ Several of the girls transfigured their clothing into uniforms before climbing onto the tables to dance.

Dumbledore walked up and down the aisles of the Great Hall, offering to give good grades to any guy who would give him a lap dance.

Finally, Draco finished his dance routine and touched up his make-up before chasing after Harry.

Meanwhile, Harry had managed to escape the school and was passing Hagrid’s hut when he heard a voice.

"Alright there, Harry?" asked Hagrid.

"Hello Hagrid," replied Harry.

"You seem a touch tense, Harry," commented Hagrid.

"Oh, I’m fine. I just discovered I’m in a slash story and I’m not enjoying it. My two best friends are as queer as a three-dollar bill, Snape wants to fondle my arse and the girl I wanted for a girlfriend is more interested in tits than I am!"

"Come in, Harry. Have a cup of tea and we’ll talk about it. I thought you knew that, despite Wizarding Britain being Victorian in morals, Hogwarts is an all gay school?"

"No, Hagrid, you neglected to mention that little tidbit when you took me to Diagon Alley. Had I known that, I would have chosen another school!" Harry said through gritted teeth.

Hagrid frowned. "I’m sure I said something about it. Well, no matter. Harry, would you be more comfortable if you sat on my lap?"

Harry shuddered and mentally cast the Cruciatus curse on every slash writer. "Er, no thanks, Hagrid. I’m fine where I am."

"Oh, well no worries, Harry. I’ll have Fang sit on my lap later. He’s a big coward, but he’s got a nice arse."

Harry shuddered again and sincerely hoped he did not run into Firenze today. The way things were going he just knew he’d find out if the centaur was ‘hung like a stallion’.

Both men looked out the window and spotted Draco, wearing his speedos and sporting a woody so massive, he’d put it in a wheelbarrow so he could move. Walking around, he was calling Harry’s name.

"Oh, look Harry! It’s Veela Draco! I bet he wants you to be his butt monkey!" snickered Hagrid.

"OY! I have a surprise for you, Potter," shouted the blonde Veela, because in slash canon, all Veela are blond and gay.

Hagrid turned to say something to Harry, but frowned instead when he saw that the boy had already left.

Draco stopped in his search and whimpered in pain. He had downed a bottle of Viagra in anticipation and his stiffy was starting to sting.

Meanwhile, up at the castle, Ron Weasley, the red headed Einstein of Slashorama, was in the infirmary after discovering that a wooden broom handle was not an adequate substance to insert into one’s orifices.

"Latex!" Madam Pomfrey shouted at the silly redhead as she removed another splinter.

Ginny and Hermione sat nearby, groping each other and giggling at Ron’s condition.

Meanwhile, at a nearby bus station, two men, one with red eyes, and the other with green, sat waiting for a bus.

The two glared at each other for a moment, then started to laugh as they each pulled out a Hustler magazine.

"I’m out of this story," growled Voldemort.

"I’m heading to some place where I can get laid," commented Harry smugly.

"Oh? Where’s that?"

"Vegas!" said Harry proudly.

Voldemort blinked in surprise, then again in confusion.

"Right then, you’re taking a muggle bus from England to Vegas?" he asked in a dry tone.

"Yeah, I heard the Vegas show girls are really easy!" Harry said happily, and then he held up the Hustler article, because everyone knows guys only buy those magazines for the articles. The title of the article was, ‘How to Get Laid in Vegas After Escaping a Slash Fic, in Five Easy Steps’.

Voldemort arched an eyebrow and then went to change his ticket. Vegas sounded like more fun than going to Manchester. Somehow, a man’s chest didn’t interest him, despite the author’s wishes.

"Mind if I tag along?"

Harry shrugged. "I often thought you’d be a nice guy if you just got laid, Tom."

"Shut it, Potter," the Dark Lord replied mildly.

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