This fanfic was written for a contest in a certain Livejournal "Harry Potter" community, divided by Houses. This is the submission from the Hufflepuffs. It was created based on some plot ideas brainstormed in a chat room, and besides myself, (evillaugher), the following people are responsible:

lovestruck143

kissmeimahobbit

lilmissjew

Another LJ user outside of the community contributed an idea, but I think she's better off not stepping forward to take responsibility for that one...

Harry Potter and the Trials of a Troubled Youth

The summer of 1996 in the Wizarding world was the anticlimax of the century. Harry Potter, frustrated with his imprisonment in the household at Number 4 Privet Drive, ran away against the counsel of Headmaster Dumbledore. Naturally he encountered the reasoning behind this advice when Lord Voldemort immediately caught up with the scruffy teenager in a suburban street outside of Little Whinging. History books will forever record how, before he even lifted his wand, the Dark Lord was smote down by an incoming six-wheeler truck that he did not notice approaching. Death was instantaneous.

Meanwhile, the Boy Who Lived was put in a prickly situation. His lifelong nemesis was gone and his constant threat of death was removed, sure. But now what? All of the excitement was taken out of his life, and his entire purpose and grand finale that the past five years had been building up to were now suddenly... diminished. His meaning in life, to vanquish Lord Voldemort and be the hero of Gryffindor, was gone.

As much as he disliked it at times, Harry craved the attention he received in the Wizarding world. It was his opiate. Maybe this was why he did what he did next, because he enjoyed the drama it stirred, no matter how negative. Or maybe it was just another external form of the internal trauma attributable to his life of abuse from the Dursleys. He was just another problem kid with issues and a desire for attention.

Harry closely inspected the Daily Prophet for a solution to his boredom, and found one in a small, shady-looking advertisement looking for fresh, young, attractive actors. Though unnoticed at the time, "young" was the key. Harry without delay sent a message showing interest by owl. Next thing he knew, he was starring under the alias of "James Privet-Parts" in a series of illicit, underage pornographic videos.

The funny thing was no one recognized the internationally-known Harry Potter in these videos. James Privet-Parts didn't wear glasses, so he went unnoticed, Clark Kent-style. It was brilliant, and either lucky or unfortunate depending on how starved for attention Harry was feeling at the time.

Harry's prime role in these unlawful videos (such as "James Privet-Parts and the 10 ½ in. Wand" and "James Privet-Parts and the Cockring of Fire") went ignored well into the school year until a certain prominent Hogwarts professor was startled out of his self-pleasuring while viewing a rental. During a particularly vigorous butt-fucking, James's usually pristine, side-swept bangs were disheveled, revealing his infamous scar. The Charms professor in question fought against his own embarrassment to report this transgression of school policy immediately to the Hogwarts staff.

After a staff discussion, Professor McGonagall showed up in the Gryffindor common room one evening, her face lividly red from both shame and fury, to make an announcement.

"Due to the grossly irresponsible misdeeds of one of your fellow students," she declared, barely containing herself, "300 points have been taken from Gryffindor! You can all thank the young Mister Potter for that. Good night!"

She swept out of the room through the Fat Lady's entrance, leaving the Gryffindors as they burst into an explosion of outraged shouting. Oodles of youthful faces turned towards Harry, their features contorted with wrath. Harry was shocked and speechless. He wanted to be noticed, but not like this. He turned towards his best friend Ron, currently a prefect. Ron's freckled face was white and bloodless, his eyes were wide, and his mouth sagged open.

Harry couldn't take it anymore and did what he was best at, escaping, and bolted out through the common room entrance. He ran and ran as swiftly as he could, tears streaming down his blushing face, sprinting through the hallway past curious portrait residents. He pushed open the door to a boys' lavatory just far enough away from the Gyffindor tower and dashed inside. Closing the door, he leaned with his back against it and slumped towards the floor, sobbing, and his chest heaving. Oh, life was so cruel! No one understood him!

"...Potter?"

Harry looked up and saw a pale, pointed face standing above him, mouth slightly open, grey eyes vaguely widened, in a gentler imitation of Ron's horror-struck expression from before.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry sniffed indignantly.

"I-I heard what happened, Potter," Draco replied delicately.

Harry's voice softened. "You did? Oh... Hey, wait a second! How could you know what happened? This was in the Gryffindor common room!"

"Oh, there's been a magical spying device hidden in the room for the past few years that directly links to a viewing screen and speakers in the Slytherin dungeons. But never mind that," Draco brushed off as Harry stared blankly. "I know how you feel."

"Wait—what?"

"I, too, know what it feels like to be singled out as widely reviled and made scapegoat for the problems of a House. Alas! Due to the actions of my father and a few tiny misdeeds of mine from my carefree youth, I am looked upon as Beelzebub incarnate. So yes, my dear Potter! I understand your predicament and sympathize with your situation."

Harry was stunned speechless. He couldn't believe how much Draco how changed over the summer! Never mind the mysterious modification in vocabulary, he also appeared to be no longer an enormous bastard.

"Uh... right," Harry replied stupidly. "That's pretty cool."

"Oh, Potter," Draco's face softened even more, and his visage dripped with tenderness. "How I've longed to spend such a moment with you, alone..."

He reached out a supple, pale hand towards Harry...

Harry Potter used that boys' bathroom a lot more often afterwards. In fact, after looking around carefully and making sure no one was watching, he snuck off to that bathroom at least every once two days. Simultaneously, he also began wearing his red and gold Gryffindor scarf at all times. Even when it was stiflingly warm indoors, he kept the fuzzy article of clothing on. He said it was his "talisman".