Disclaimer: Don't own it, yo.

I already know I'm insane, and I honestly don't have an excuse. Yes, it's rather lame-ish but it is quite possible that I was on a sugar-high when I wrote this. I don't exactly remember . . .

Harry Potter . . . was a genius.

Well, he thought so.

He had just secretly and awesomely gotten a hold of something very secret and awesome . . . something that no one else in the history of history had ever known about.

He had discovered a Secro-Mindo-Chippo.

Now, what is a Secro-Mindo-Chippo, you say? It is a secrety mind reading device—er, chip. Actually, it isn't even really a chip, just a little clear blob that you stick in your ear and it whispers things to you.

Are you asking a question again? Could it be . . . WHAT exactly does this Secro-Mindo-Chippo whisper into your ear? Well, that is quite simply the amazing thing about it. It whispers people's thoughts into your ear.

All you have to do is look at the person whose thoughts you want to read. The Secro-Mindo-Chippo will then whisper those thoughts (that are not your own) into the ear it is placed in, and you sit back and relax as you dig your nose into other people's business. Sounds fun, eh?

I have no idea how Harry got a hold of said Secro-Mindo-Chippo when no one else has ever known about it. Just suppose that an invisible force chucked it at him from the heavens. Yeah, that's it.

So anyways, on with the story.

Self-proclaimed (though not out loud) genius Harry Potter was about to have the most interesting day of his life. He had woken up, gotten dressed, and been ready to frolic down to the common room when he had remembered—the Secro-Mindo-Chippo! He had then turned his tushy around and grabbed said Secro-Mindo-Chippo from his trunk, and only then did he frolic down to the common room.

Harry hopped off the last step into the common room and was pleased to see many minds available for his reading.

Well, it's now or never, he thought to himself. He stuck the Secro-Mindo-Chippo into his ear, mysteriously, while his eyes were closed. Then it occurred to him that perhaps he should wait to do this in the Great Hall. But, too lazy to simply take out the Secro-Mindo-Chippo, Harry just stood there with his eyes scrunched shut as to not look at anyone and consequently read their thoughts.

"Er—Harry? What the hell are you doing?" It was Ron.

"I, my young friend, am trying to make my way down to the Great Hall while not using my eyes," said Harry, promptly tripping over a first-year and projecting himself across the room. "Wheeeee!"

Thump.

Harry landed at the base of the portrait hole with his eyes still closed. He was in an odd mood at the moment, so I'll just use that as my excuse for why he's acting drunk.

"Whoa man, I feel Fon-kayyy . . ." said Harry as he wobbled over the threshold out of the common room, then stumbled again and fell face-first to the ground outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. Ron followed him out, now supremely worried; but since this is Harry Potter we're speaking of, he was not overall really worried.

It had just occurred to Ron that Harry had called him 'young friend', when Ron himself was older than Harry by several months. But he let this slide; Harry was obviously on something at the moment.

"Dude, what are you on?" Ron asked, in a very bad American accent, while helping Harry up off the ground.

"I'm high . . . on life," said Harry lamely.

Ron shrugged. "Okay."

Together they made the way down to the Great Hall, Harry still shut-eyed and Ron attempting to keep him from dying. On the way down, they didn't even have that much trouble; they only knocked over several portraits, two suits of armor and Mrs. Norris. Ron had a feeling Harry was rather enjoying himself.

At the doors to the Great Hall, Ron picked up Harry and carried him into the Hall bride-style, Harry all-of-a-sudden sporting a giant poofy wedding dress and matching veil, and then set him down at a seat at the Gryffindor table. As soon as Harry's tush touched the bench, the dress disappeared. The veil stayed.

"That was random."

"Yep."

"So . . ." said Harry, his eyes still shut for no reason. "I wonder why there's a veil on my head."

His question was answered with a snigger from the Slytherin table. Harry decided that now would be a marvelous time to test out the Secro-Mindo-Chippo. Gah, that thing was named weird.

He opened his eyes, only to realize that closing them had been completely unnecessary. All he had to do was focus on one person to read their mind at will, but otherwise nothing happened. This did not stop him screaming at the sight in front of him.

Harry was sitting on a stool in front of a booth, and Ron was collecting money from the line of people queuing up to have their picture taken with the 'Amazing Eye-Scrunching Veil-Wearing Loon', as a large hand-made sign so politely pointed out. As soon as Harry finished screaming, which was about five minutes later, he stopped and sat there, everyone still staring at him. He blinked. Then he yawned.

"So . . . er, Ron, what's this booth for?" Harry asked, trying to sound subtle as everyone continued to stare at them both silently.

"Well, I thought since you weren't looking . . . and . . . . errrrr— I'm poor!" said Ron, the hem of his tattered robes hanging to his knees, and the sleeves stopping at his elbows.

Harry couldn't think of anything to say to Ron without openly admitting that yes, he was poor. So he just blinked again. He noticed a flash of black hair disappearing behind a group of people in line. Thinking this was very weird and obviously unimportant (seriously I don't mention this at all later, it's just kind of random), Harry looked at Ron again.

"Um, can you get this veil off my head?"

"Can't you kind of . . . get it off yourself?" Said Ron, as if trying to suggest the obvious course of action.

"Oh yeah, for a second I forgot I had hands," said Harry, pulling the veil off his head. Since the person sitting on the stool was now open-eyed and veil-less, there was a mass of disappointed sighs as the crowd in line slouched back to their seats. The booth and stool disappeared in a poof, as did the money Ron was holding.

"Dang it!" said Ron.

Since Harry had been sitting on the stool, which had now disappeared, he fell promptly on his tushy to the cold stone floor. Then he got up, without giving recognition of that even happening.

"No . . ." Harry whispered to himself quietly, but somehow everyone could hear him. "No . . . I didn't just fall on my tushy in front of the whole school . . . Noooooo . . . ."

His very-audible whispers of "No . . ." became quieter and quieter as he sunk to the floor, then collapsed completely showing no signs of life.

Then Harry got up and skipped happily back his seat at the Gryffindor table, humming to himself as he went. Everyone seemed to miraculously forget what had just happened, and the veil that apparently is still around somewhere disappeared, and Ron (whom we left somewhere near the now-non-existing booth) reappeared next to Harry and began shoveling down food.

Since we have quite drifted off the topic of the Secro-Mindo-Chippo, I shall return to it now.

Harry decided to do his first mind-reading on Neville. He zoomed in on Neville, squinting and focusing. Neville, who was devouring toast, had not noticed Harry nose-to-nose with him. Harry continued focusing, and decided that it must take a very long time to extract thoughts from others. His eye was almost touching Neville's eye and Harry was being very squintalicious when he finally decided to give up. He moved his focus to Hermione, who immediately changed his mind.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH—ARITHMANCY— BLAH BLAH BLAH—ANCIENT RUNES—BLAH BLAH—I LOVE RON—BLAH—LIBRARY—BLAH BLAH BLAH—BOOKS," shouted the SMC in Harry's ear.

He just decided to assume that Neville's thoughts were well-hidden.

Turning his practically deaf self away from Hermione, he found the next target. He focused on Ron.

"I looooove Hermiiiiiioneeeeeeeeeeee tee hee mwahahaha I shall one day marry her but I can never tell her I like her tee hee . . . hey look, toast . . .nom nom that was delicious . . ."

Harry was pretty sure he would be scarred before the day was over. He turned his focus to Ginny.

"I looooove Haaaarrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyy tee hee mwahahaha I shall one day marry him but I can never tell him I like him tee hee . . . hey look, toast . . ."

Harry decided it must be a hereditary thing. He was doing a lot of deciding today. He decided he liked deciding. He decided he was going to decide something. He decided . . . to focus on Cho Chang.

"I am Cho Chang I like reminding my own mind that I am Cho Chang. Chang-ang-ang-ang. Ooh my last name is catchy. Chang-yang-mang-hang-DANG. Whoa that's COOL I have an Irish accent yay . . ."

Yes, definitely scarred. He decided that. He also decided that he should probably get going to Transfiguration since he would be late if he didn't hurry his tushy up.

Once seated with loaves of bread and instructions to transfigure them into pencil cases, Harry and Ron set to work. Well, Ron did. Harry just acted convincingly while really reading some peep's minds.

Seamus' mind:

"Puhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I sound Bulgarian dum dee dum I like cheese. . ."

Dean's mind:

"I wonder how I could sneak poop into Professor Snape's office . . ."

Lavender's mind:

"Hey I'm blonde no wonder I never understand jokes...hey I just offended myself! Wow I'm funny I like Divination . . . "

Parvati's mind:

"Whoa I'm Indian and whoa I have a twin and WHOA what are the chances of that!? Oh yeah and—"

Harry was just about to give up on reading the minds of pointless characters when he had an idea. And . . . he focused on Professor McGonagall.

"Golly gee willickers I'm old . . . I bet I'm about to keel over any second . . . I suppose I should write a will . . . yes, I'll leave everything to my cats . . . Wait, I don't have any cats. . . Hold it a second bucko, I am a cat . . ."

Harry was very glad when it came time for Potions. And that was definitely a first, he decided.

"Now, students, please make this—" Snape pointed to the board, where directions appeared, "—potion and bring a flask to my desk when you finish."

Snape went back to his desk but pulled out a cauldron and began mixing a potion. Normally he didn't mix potions during class, but preferred to scrutinize the students, so Harry decided to see what he was up to.

"Yes . . . mwahahaha . . . I love potions . . . little does the Potter boy know . . . that I am very sexy . . . and I am going to use this potion for additional sexiness . . . and he should obey me . . . yes, he should obey me or face the consequences . . . OF MY SEXINESS! MWAHAHHHHAHHHAHHAHAHAHHAHHHAH!"

Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. And all this time, he had thought that he was the only one with maniacal laughter inside his head! Darn, now he didn't feel special . . .

As usual, when the author wants the character to interact with someone, Harry felt he was being watched. He turned his head to see the one and only Draco Malfoy sneering at him from two rows over. He seemed to look very diabolical and as if he knew something Harry didn't know.

"Hey Potter, I know something you don't know," said Malfoy.

Harry focused on him to read his thoughts.

"Yo I am the one and only Draco Malfoy . . . I should be on a male calendar . . . Oh yeah whatever, I know something that Potter doesn't! Mwahahaha! That secret thing is . . . THAT I THINK HARRY POTTER IS A SEXY BEAST! YEEHAW! MWAHWHWAHHWHAHAH!!"

Harry blinked. He blinked again. And again. And again. And again. Harry decided he liked blinking. Yes, he decided he liked blinking very much. He was deciding on another aspect of blinking when he realized he was still staring at Malfoy. And Malfoy was still staring at him. Malfoy had a very creepy smirk on his face. The kind of evil smirk that's very . . . evil. That smirk was the last thing Harry Potter saw, before being tackled.

Draco Malfoy had somehow lunged himself into the air and had landed on Harry, pinning him to the ground (since Harry had conveniently fallen off his chair). Harry had a strong sense that this had something to do with the fact that Malfoy thought he was a sexy beast. Malfoy began making out with him and stuff, and pretty soon their shirts were off. A crowd had gathered, and Ron had roped them off and was collecting money. The crowd was cheering and whistling, and for some reason Harry was not at all objected to this making-out-type-thing with Malfoy. He blamed it on latent desire and tried to be very sexy for both Draco and the crowd, to earn Ron money of course.

Harry wondered mildly where the crowd had come from when he opened his eyes just so he could read Malfoy's thoughts.

"Wow yay all these years of repressed lust ooooooh my feet are ticklish tee hee . . . by the way what year am I in? The author forgot to mention that . . . oh well I don't really care at the moment . . . Dang Potter is one sexy hella hunka hunky schmonkin'—Ooh what was that he just did with his tongue? Me likey ooh la la wow I'm such a girl, think manly thoughts, MANLY! It's not working okay so think of lumberjacks, yeah they're manly—"

Harry left him to his thoughts and gleefully pondered the relationship he would have with Malfoy after this . . . it would probably be the kind that those fan-people wrote about, all angsty and stuff.

A couple hours later, when everyone was back in the Great Hall for dinner (for some reason there was no lunch that day), Harry and Draco kept throwing each other suggestive looks that were actually very funny if you consider the situation. I mean, Malfoy and Potter, heh, chuckle snort ha ha . . . honestly . . .

Anyways, everyone was quite hungry because of the unexplainable absence of lunch, so when the platters filled with food, everyone dug in like . . . er, food-deprived people. Pretty soon all the houses, plus the staff, were waging war with food as ammunition. Some overly-large Slytherins were brandishing loaves of French bread like clubs, the Ravenclaws were strategically launching peas at everyone in general, and the Hufflepuffs were running around and making sounds like terrified monkeys. A few Gryffindors were using their own slender loaves of bread to wack random people over the head, and the rest of the Gryffindors were assisting in making the most noise possible by throwing platters to ground, for maximum effect of course.

Professor Dumbledore was using his wand to sprinkle gravy over the battle, every once in a while emitting a strange noise like a yodel that echoed over the Hall; Professors McGonagall and Sprout were hurriedly rearranging the tables on either side of the Hall for people to duck behind; Hagrid was launching whole platters of food that hit people upside the head when they were off-guard; Professor Flitwick was charming random patches of the floor to become quicksand, which grabbed unsuspecting warriors but instead of swallowing them, simply tickled them to the point of insanity; and many deep-voiced male students bellowed, "CHARGE!!" every time they attacked groups of random defenseless first-years. At the battlefront, Gryffindors and Slytherins slapped each other with cheese slices and a group of Hufflepuffs had discovered the benefits of attacking instead of screaming and were dumping cauldrons of stew on the heads of the Ravenclaw pea-snipers. All the while, Professor Snape was doing a solitary Cha-Cha in the midst of the raging war while producing a never-ending battle cry bearing a strange resemblance to Tarzan's, which gave constant motivation to all the raging students.

After dinner, everyone was rather tired and headed off to bed. The End!