WARNING: Don't read this if you don't like slash – not that this is lemon or anything, it's just a bit jibe-ie to people that don't like it. No offence meant, that's just my idea of humour…
Oh and at last DISCLAIMER (everyone should cheer because I actually remembered) – I don't own Harry Potter or at least I didn't write it, originally – this I wrote, but I don't own the characters, I'm just playing with them …. I shouldn't most probably…. You be the judge.
Harry Potter and the Need for a New Meeting Room
Hogwarts quintessentially, is a small community, therefore it is with no great wonder that shortly after the DA meeting room was found aka, 'the room of requirement', it became well used. Realistically it would be naive or perhaps just fictionally convenient to assume that a group of over twenty young, fickle minded students managed not to mention the existence of a room that would provide anything one desired, to a single, other person.
However, you'll find Harry Potter just happens to be a very fictionally convenient character, he's a little naive too, and so that is how we discover our beloved protagonist frozen in shock in it's inconspicuous doorframe staring down upon a floor of woollen balls and one very guilty looking tabby cat. Now like all good conveniently naïve central characters, Harry just didn't have a clue where he had seen the cat before, which left such a wide door open for a mystery and/or adventure, why his eye's twinkled in Dumbledore-like fashion. As they of course would, being as he was Dumbledore's boy wonder, I mean man – Dumbledore's man-whore through and through. Woops there I go again - I mean Dumbledore's man, who he's been through and through… At any rate they were in this war together, sticking together like mating insects, nope wait.. try … glue!
But I digress from the tale – so here alone in this room was the-boy-who-lived-to bugger-the-hell-out-of –the-dark-lord (a noble sacrificial concept if the authoress does so happen to think so herself) and the-tabby-that-got-caught-out-bad, which just so happens to be such a lame stringing together of words the authoress wonders if she shouldn't just fold up the laptop now, she won't though because she's got time to kill – guaranteeing this story will have no literacy value (not that it ever would what with the way she runs sentences into paragraphs by ignoring grammatical rules and just sticking in brackets) and will slowly but surely continue downhill, draining the life out of all those who read it. In fact, compassionate being that she is, she advises any poor readers still with the … story… to stop now, say hi in a review, and savour the few extra minutes of life her good advice has brought you. In fact she advises herself to stop now and do the same – but we all know you're still reading, and obviously she's still typing because NOONE (funny that word always seems like it could just be one word until you put it in capitals and reveal the truth – but she's leaving it like that because she enjoys confusing people) Where were we? Oh yes… because NOONE does what they're told.
Now back on tangent (a horribly mathematical notion for a peaceful English story). Let there be dialogue!
"Well hello there pussy cat" said Harry jovially but at that same time with that angsty edge to his voice of a child who's always felt inferior, never been loved, always having to prove himself HE JUST NEEDED THE PUSS TO EXCEPT HIM G-D DAMNIT!!!
The cat didn't say a darn word, obviously. I mean say you got lucky and a student didn't remember you after you so blatantly revealed your only disguise to them just a few years ago, and not to mention the luck required for the student that happened to catch you out in a secret, highly hidden, locked or at least closed door - wizardy ritual requiring to open room - with a doorknob, yes the luck required for that student to be dim-witted (or fictionally convenient) enough, to think it was an accident, or perhaps not question it at all – until it was !MYSTERY TIME! of course…So say you got that lucky would you meow at that precise moment so as the daft child is inclined to put the words 'human-like response' and 'familiar cat' in the same sentence? WELL OF COURSE YOU ARE! You're a sucker for pain, what other excuse do you have for getting this far into something this pointless?
Anyhow, the authoress has just realised she has now superseded her previous published word length record, which wasn't difficult but perhaps could be called the point of this collaboration of words, if something this pointless can pretend to have a point.
At any rate she's going to stop now, kind of, no really she's just going to be a very bad and lazy author and string together a few non-descript sentences to give us all closure on the ?story? Here we go:
The ginger pussy (snickers – does anyone else think Weasleys when I say that?) seizing its opportunity, what with the angsty semi-dumbstruck teen leaving the door wide open for escape. So escape she does however she runs right up Professor Snape's skin-tight leather-clad leg who was coming to the room for whatever reasons the younglings who don't like anything – despicable – in their fics want to innocently assume (maybe he needs the extra protection from bad, bad potions?) meanwhile us despicables will continue to think of hot guys (in general) in hipster leather pants ……….
…We do apologise this fic is currently experiencing technical difficulties. Please hold the line while our operators attempt to restore neurofunction...
Ok, we're back – I just thought everyone (exempting the easily offended by hot, steamy slash) would appreciate the time for contemplation of Eragon's abs - WOW now I'm thinking of Eragon actor guy and Dan Radcliffe both in hipster leather pants, that would be SO hot!! Damn the need for an extremely AU, long and likely bad plot and 2x the need for tedious, fluffy and semi-realistic realisations of homosexual tendencies… ANYONE who writes that story must tell me!! SOMEBODY write that story!!! Just don't forget the hot slash.
So much for closure let's try this short finish thing again:
The cat though contemplating staying where it was attached to sexy pants, didn't because the authoress is finished with her and just trying to end the bloody story (rather unsuccessfully). So the cat ran away, Harry felt rejected so he wept on Snape, turning the story Severitus, meaning that sexy pants Snape either fucked him tenderly senseless or became his only understanding mentor – or both, frankly I don't care what you want to go with I'm done.
THE END.
A/N : So this ended up more a collection of near intelligible words, not a story – but if you made it this far I hope that means your sense of humour is decent enough to realise, this wasn't written to be anything more than mindless entertainment, ie – DON'T bother flaming me to tell me I didn't have a plot – because deirdre – I KNOW!