This is a pet project I've been working on with a few friends for a while now, now, it;s finally taking story-format form. Just as a warning, all of these little tidbits of morbidness are extrememly short, so don't expect pages and pages of deaths every update, but do expect more than chapter to be added at one time:) I guess that may make up for how incredibly short all of these chapter are. Anyway, please review, and if you have any gross, random, funny ideas, drop me a line, I'd love to hear from you. There will be 100 of these little things, so prepare:) I'll need your help sometime once I run out of gruesome deaths. Standard disclamer, I don't own Harry Potter, I never have, and I never will.
"Harry, you need to know this, you're not human." Albus Dumbledore said, "On the night that your parents died, you did too. You died again in your first year and your second year."
"Are you on crack?" Harry asked calmly. "Because if you are, I'd like to join you in the land of magic mushrooms."
"No Harry, I am not on drugs, this is the truth. You can't die." Dumbledore smiled, plotting how to sue this in the war. "Isn't that great news?"
"Wonderful," muttered Harry. "There goes all that time I put into my suicide note."
Dumbledore chuckled, what a joker, ushering him out of his office, "its dinnertime Harry, why don't you go to the Great Hall?"
"Yeah, maybe I'll choke on a pea," Harry muttered as he walked down the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Entering the great hall, Harry got hit with a heavy weight from above. Neville Longbottom was dropped from 20 feet up by Peeves, landing squarely on Harry. An audible crack was heard.
"OH MY GOD!" Yelled Hermione, rushing over to where Neville had stood up, unharmed, and Harry lay still. He looked dead.
"YES HE'S DEAD, I CAN RAVAGE HERMIONE WITHOUT HARRY TRYING TO WIN HER OVER!" Ron laughed evilly, jumping up on top of the table..
Dumbledore pulled Hermione off of Harry's inert body. His chest didn't rise or fall, his eyes were shut, and his neck and head were bent at an odd angle. "Don't worry Ms. Granger, he'll be fine." Assured the old coot.
More tears streamed down her face, "FINE!" She bellowed. "HIS BLOODY NECK'S BROKEN!"
"'Mione?" Harry said groggily, sitting up. He noticed the room was tilted at an odd angle, grabbed his head and pulled, feeling his bones snap back into their rightful positions. "Why is Ron dancing on the table?"