HARRY POTTER AND THE EXTREMELY AWESOME PLOT!
OR
GAYBOYSEXGAYBOYSEXGAYBOYSEXHOTHOTHOT!
A crack!fic by IggySmokesPot
Featuring emo!Harry, veela!Draco and all you favourite living characters (alright maybe some dead ones too).
Ah, sweet lyrics slash poetry
At the beginning of a fic
Does anyone actually read them?
I know I skim them real quick.
Lions and snakes duelling,
With the fire of a thousand metaphors
Congratulations you're still reading
Now say this aloud without a pause
(Rhyming Is Overrated – Rufus Wainwright or an equally 'deep' gay artist, perhaps Oscar Wilde))
Chapter One (though there is only one chapter).
Harry Potter looked into the mirror. Because that is what one does at the beginning of every good fanfiction. One looks into the mirror, so that you, the reader can appreciate how much one has changed over the summer.
So yes, mirror. Harry had changed over the summer. It was strange and uncanny and really really really queer. His once messy hair now looked 'sexily tousled', hanging fetchingly over one eye, and his thin face had bloomed into a really really really handsome one (or pretty, depending on which Harry you like, fragile!girly!harry or handsome!top!Harry). His eyes (orbs) were a glowing verdant emerald and a really really really bright green.
Harry had become thin yet well-toned and now had a really really really good body. He couldn't remember if this was from years of Quidditch playing or from all the weeding the Dursleys made him do over the summer. Either way, Harry was hawt.
Hot he may have been, but he was also extremely depressed. Because you know, Dumbledore was dead. So was Sirius. And also Cedric. Now Harry had no-one left to have wet-dreams about. It was all very frustrating.
Henceforth, Harry was now very slightly emo.
Which explained the skin-tight jeans and black ramones t-shirt.
Life was so unfair. Why did Harry have to have naturally black hair? It made it impossible for him to do a bad dye job. Oh, and Voldemort was gonna kill him. Motherfucker. Harry picked up the cardboard bus ticket that he had taken to gnawing on, and tried to slit his wrists with it.
It didn't work. Sigh.
Just as he was contemplating throwing himself off the astronomy tower, a faint girlish scream cut through his consciousness.
Harry rolled his brilliant green verdant glowing eyes emphatically, as his hero complex forced him to trudge reluctantly down to the Gryffindor common room. Harry froze on the last step. And allowed his delectable mouth to fall open ever so slightly.
Draco Malfoy knelt at the foot of the stairs, on one knee, as opposed to two.
Harry looked into Draco's molten silver/grey/cold/lively/passionate/burning orbs (eyes) and sighed.
"Ahhhh" sighed Harry, as he looked into Draco's molten orbs. The he shook himself, as he realised the entire Gryffindor common room was staring at him .Even the walls. Motherfuckers.
"Wha- what the hell Mafoy?" Harry tried to keep up appearances, even though he was so damn apathetic these days. Ron was immediately by his side.
"Bugger off Malfoy – bloody hell" he spluttered, though a mouthful of what looked like cream cake.
Hermione stepped over Malfoy and took her place at Harry's other side, all the while shooting surreptitious glances at Ron. That girl was always thinking about sex.
Malfoy stood up with a flourish. Then tripped over his own feet. Harry pretended not to notice, though Ron was snorting snottily. Malfoy shook out his lustrous white hair. Harry swore he heard the sound of running water.
"Well Ha-Potter, I'm actually a veela. Yes, that's right, a veela. Grrrr, I am veela hear me roar!"
Draco roared enthusiastically. Harry blinked his emerald eyes (orbs), forgetting for the moment to be apathetic.
"Um, Draco, you can stop roaring now."
"Sorry Harry-I mean Potter. I tend to get carried away". Draco's veela claws retracted with a slight farting noise. Harry decided not to comment, he was too busy crying anyway.
"Harry! What's wrong?" Draco looked confused (in a sexy yet arrogant kind of way).
"You…you said my name. You called me Harry…" his voice broke off into a bout of muffled sobs. Years of living in cupboard can do this to a boy. Especially one who lived.
At that point in time, Remus Lupin walked past, which was odd, considering he has not been mentioned for the entirety of this story. He was wearing a pair of shabby robes. His hair was greying. His eyes (orbs) were kind.
"Professor Lupin!" Gasped Hermione, stooped from the weight of her book bag.
"Hermione" replied Lupin mildly.
"What are you doing here?" Spluttered Ron through a mouthful of spotted dick.
"Just looking for a way to bring my lover Sirius back from beyond the veil" said Lupin mildly.
"Your…your lover?" asked Harry in an slightly interested voice (but not TOO interested, this would compromise his apathetic demeanour).
"Yes." Said Lupin mildly.
There was an mpregnant pause, as Harry, Ron and Hermione processed this suprising plot turn. "Ok must be off" muttered Lupin, and disappeared with a pop.
Suddenly, Harry realised that he, Draco, Ron and Hermione had been magically transported to the great hall.
"What happened there I wonder?" he mused aloud. Ron muttered something about unknowing apparating then ducked under the Hufflepuff table to avoid being attacked by a furious and sexually frustrated Hermione.
"How many times do I have to tell you Ron? You can't apparate in Hogwarts!" Harry lost count of the number of italics that Hermione used.
It was almost dinner. And Harry felt like some green vegetables and French fries. Because he was emo x-core and didn't eat anything nutritious. He pointed this out to the others. Draco nodded appreciatively. Ron and Hermione just gaped at him.
So yeah, almost dinner time and all that.
There was just enough time for Draco to arrogantly inform Harry that he was actually his mate. In a non-comradely sense. That would explain the irrational tug of Draco's emotions Harry had been feeling all day.
Harry didn't know what he felt about being a creatures mate, he only knew that Draco was very very attractive and maybe Harry could be persuaded to put at least one other thing apart from french fries and green vegetables into his mouth.
He was about to mention this to Draco, when he realised their creature bond allowed Draco to read Harry's currently very dirty thoughts. Draco was blushing a very appealing pink.
Suddenly, with absolutely no warning and some very bad attempts at making it flow by the author, Harry collapsed on the ground, immobile. Then he rose off the ground. And started glowing. With a strange green light-actually, a throbbing golden light. And Time Of Your Life by Greenday started playing in the background. It was all very nostalgic.
Amazingly enough, everyone who was anyone suddenly appeared to witness this remarkable phenomenon. They had varying reactions.
"Obviously that dunderhead has brought this upon himself" sneered Snape silkily. "Also, Dumbledore begged me to kill him."
"But, you're a …a TRAITOR!" spluttered Ron, through a mouthful of insert food here . He always was slow on the uptake. He suddenly noticed Harry's glowing pulsating form and his weasel-like eyes widened comically.
"Obviously this is to do with a Crumple-Horned Snorcack" said Luna serenely.
"Why would this have to do with a Crumble-Corned Snack?" asked Seamus, his Irish accent extremely pronounced.
Parvati and Lavender giggled girlishly because Seamus had misheard. And also, because they could.
"Harry's in no position to reject me now MWAHAHA!" purred Ginny Weasley, in that catlike way she was so fond of. She began crawling towards him, but was interrupted by a loud yell.
"Stop Ginny! He's completely covered in Canary Creams!" shouted the Weasley twins, in perfect unison. Ginny pouted in a very vixen-like way.
There came the sound of slapping, and suddenly Gred and Forge were being reprimanded by one very irate Mrs. Weasley.
"eh let da boiz hab dey're fun missus" boomed Hagrid, with exceptionally bad grammar.
"Oh no not Harry!" cried Cho, through her tears.
"Don't cry dear girl" ejaculated Slughorn. "Cleanyupthesemenimperiostupecio!" he muttered, and the telling white stain albeit disappeared.
"Big Dick Come Quick!" cackled Peeves madly, shamelessly ripping off a fic from HPfandom.
"EW!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson in a pug-like alliterative nightmare.
"Now, now we must get back to the matter at er…hand" blustered Fudge, his bowler hat extremely dull from many years of wear.
"Harry! Oh no! He's the only one that can kill Voldemort! We are all doomed – doomed I tell you!" gasped Hermione, stooped from the weight of her book bag.
There was a collective gasp. Hermione looked sheepish. Pansy looked pug-like. Blaise Zabini randomly turned into a girl.
"Now Miss Granger, that was Harry's secret to tell," scolded McGonagall, with a hint of a smile softening her hard features.
"But Harry is dead!" said Neville, then promptly (burst into flames). Because he was clumsy.
"You stupid little boy of course he's not dead!" said Voldemort, in a high, cold voice.
There was another collective gasp, as everyone present realised there was a Dark Lord in their midst. Crabbe and Goyle did a choreographed dance of glee. Even Voldemort looked faintly disturbed.
"Thank Merlin for that" drawled Draco, shaking out his long blonde lustrous hair. "I don't think I could have gone on if sweet beautiful Harry was dead". Everyone looked at him in surprise, except Ron, who keeled over in a dead faint. Their dirty little secret was revealed.
There was a slight 'squee'ing noise from every female in the room. And from Seamus. Because Seamus was…well Seamus.
But that didn't matter. Because old Voldy was slinking slowly over to Harry's still form, and holding out his wand, the words of the killing curse slowly shaping on his really really thin mouth.
"White boy" muttered Dean Thomas, pursing his own generous lips and spinning around in a very Michael Jackson-esque dance move. Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson applauded and flashed their bling to a flabbergasted Barty Crouch.
There was a collective scream, as everyone realised Harry was about to become the-boy-who-didn't-live-after-all. And a whooping noise from Lucius Malfoy, who had just realised his former crush on James Potter would never be revealed. That kid's strut had really done it for him.
Voldemort moved even closer, and bent down to spit on Harry's very apathetic unconscious face. But-
What about the canary creams? (I hear you ask).
Suddenly, Voldemort turned into seven really quite ugly canaries. And thus He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named became He-Who-Is-Now-7-Ugly-Canaries. It was a fitting way to go.
A certain Mad-Eye Moody appeared, and growled something about horcruxes being too hard to work into the plot so there. Also Kingsley Shacklebolt died (because he had been duelling with Bellatrix) and it was very sad and politically correct because he was black. Although I hear the Changs and the Patils lodged an official complaint with the Department of Racial Slurs.
At that exact moment in time, Harry opened his shining green verdant emotive eyes (orbs). They focussed on the canaries, then on Draco. Suddenly Rita Skeeter appeared, with a video camera that projected what was happening into every house in the UK. Wizard cable bitches!
"Oh Draco!" said Harry, and strangely enough, he sounded not in the least apathetic.
"I LOVE YOU FOREVER, and ever and ever. "The stars will sing of it. We are like, so immortal right now. I will always love you. I was just confused that it was hate, thin line and all that – you know how it is. I'm like, so malfoysexual right now. Let's go off to a beach and make babies."
"But baby, we can't make babies…can we?" drawled Draco, who suddenly became one of those annoying veelas who call their boyfriends 'baby'.
At that precise moment in time, Remus Lupin appeared, because that's what he does; interrupts sex with an embarrassed stammer, or, appears.
"Well boys" said Remus mildly, "I'm really really really freaked out that you haven't heard of MPREG" (dun dun!!!) "It's become quite mainstream now". At that, he disappeared. No-one even blinked.
Harry and Draco looked at each other in dawning horror, and mental images of vaginas. There was a yowl from Ginny, who had spontaneously combusted, spraying everyone who wasn't Harry and Draco with gross things. And fur. Harry shuddered – he'd been right to get out of that one.
But then, it didn't matter. Because Harry was looking at Draco, and Draco was looking at Harry, and the whole world buggered off. "Motherfucker" muttered Harry, simply because he could.
Draco leaned in slowly towards Harry, and tenderly touched their lips together.
"Draco…" breathed Harry breathily, "I'm ready for you to claim me...make me yours!"
Draco blinked, momentarily confused, as he had gradually become accustomed to being dominated by Harry. But not in this fic fuckers! An evil smile formed on his pointy aristocratic face (which was still unbearably handsome). He reached slowly for Harry, very very dirty thoughts running through his silver head.
But unfortunately for all the avid readers pretending NOT to be waiting for the inevitable gay boy sex, a certain author decided to label the story as a WIP. At that precise moment in time, Remus Lupin appeared and shuffled mildly around, then promptly disappeared.
THE END
A/N: So did you like it? Yeah I know I shamelessly ripped off about a hundred awesome fics. No offence meant to any of the many demographics I probably offended. Review? Please?