Harry Potter sat in his room back at the Dursleys. The school year had ended like usual, some terribly traumatic event that left him emotionally devastated as usual, but that wasn't his problem. Well, it was his problem, especialy since he should consider seeing a therapist for how many people he has seen murdered in front of him by a dude everyone says he killed as a baby, and yet never seem to believe is back despite it happening every year since he started going to that school, but it wasn't his current problem. His current problem was that he was at home for the summer, can't use magic, and was terribly bored. So it is in this incredibly bored state that Harry decides to do something he swore he wouldn't: He would smoke the wizard weed the Weasley twins had given him.

"Now wizard pot is different from that muggle crap." Fred explained to Harry, or maybe it was George, it was hard to tell.

"Yeah," said George or possibly Fred, "Can't compare the stuff."

"What's it do?" Harry asked in confusion.

"It gets you really, really high." Fred and George said in unison, or maybe George and Fred, as they shoved a small plastic baggie of the wizard pot into his hand before he could protest.

"First one's on the house." Fred/George said cheerily.

"When you want more you know where to find us." George/Fred yelled over his shoulder as the two walked away from a confused and slightly uncomfortable Harry Potter. Harry looked down at the bag of wizard pot in his hands and quickly looked around before stashing it in his robes, making a mental note to put it in his trunk until he could dispose of it later.

Harry dug through his trunk, occasionally stopping to be distracted by some random thing he forgot he had in there. Had he ever cleaned this thing out since he started going to Hogwarts? Harry strained his memory before concluding that, no, he had indeed never cleaned his trunk out. He contemplated forgetting his plan to smoke the wizard weed and just cleaning his trunk, but then his hand felt the touch of a plastic bag. With a wide victorious grin, Harry pulled his bag of wizard pot out from the bowels of the trunk and held it aloft.

The wizard weed didn't look like what Harry thought weed was supposed to look, but aside from the many life endangering adventures in which many rules were broken, Harry was rather straight laced, so he wasn't entirely sure that it looked any different from actual weed. However, he strongly suspected that regular weed didn't glow faintly, or occasionally spark. Then again, he was fairly straight laced, so for all he knew, it did in fact do just that. Either way, Harry cast aside any second thoughts and brought it to the kitchen, a vague idea about people getting hungry when high in the back of his mind.

The Dursleys were out of town for a couple day having a little holiday and had left him to watch the house, leaving him home alone with no risk of interruptions. Thankfully the twins had included rolling papers, because Harry had no clue how he would have smoked it if they hadn't. He fumbled slightly as he sloppily made a joint, barely managing, hoping to wizard god that this worked.

Harry placed the wizard joint between his lips and lit it. The strong smell of the smoke bothered his nose and made his eyes water, but despite that he breathed in deeply, sucking as much of the foul smoke into his lungs. A series of coughs escaped from him after holding the smoke in for a few seconds. After his coughing had subsided, Harry took another long drag of the wizard weed, this time managing to suppress the coughing to nothing more than a couple of tiny coughs. This patterned continued for a while, all the while Harry felt no different.

"Is this even working?" Harry wondered out loud, a slight rasp to his voice from his smoke dried throat.

"Beets me." Said a tomato aunt Petunia had left on the counter.

"That was terrible." Said another.

"Yeah, and we aren't even vegetables man." Agreed a third.

"That was a terrible pun." Harry said with a nod, failing to register anything unusual about the encounter.

"Go back to smoking pot!" Snapped the first tomato irritably. "Was too a good pun." It grumbled.

"Actually it's wizard pot" He corrected.

"Any good?" A tomato inquired.

"… did too make sense..." Continued the mumbling and grumbling tomato.

"I'm not sure," Harry said before taking another drag of the wizard joint. "I've never done it before, so no clue what it's like." Smoke escaping joined the general haze surrounding the young wizard.

"Talk to the waffle iron then." Suggested one tomato helpfully, "I hear he knows all about this type of thing."

"Where can I find this waffle iron?" Inquired Harry. The tomatoes were silent for a moment as they took what he just said in.

"Really?"

"What?"

"It is literally just further down the counter, it's pretty obvious." Said one tomato as almost all the others voiced agreement.

"...wouldn't know a good pun if it bit you on the..." Continued one tomato.

"Oh..." Harry turned his gaze slightly to the right and spotted the waffle iron sitting on the counter. He took another long drag of his wizard joint and breathed out a billowing cloud of smoke. "Thanks." He said with a cough.

"That boy is very high." Said one tomato after Harry stopped paying attention. The other tomatoes agreed completely, even the one who was still grumbling about produce puns despite no one even paying attention anymore.

Harry stood transfixed, his wizard joint haning loosely between his lips. Before him was the waffle iron, a device he had seen everyday he was back at the Dursleys for years. He had seen it, but never really SEEN it before. How had he never notice how it's chrome gleamed under the kitchen lights, the polished surface shining like stars. The round shape, it's curves were... oddly appealing to him. He opened it up and marveled at the grid, how all those squares made a circle. Oh wizard god, he thought, it's nonstick too. The thought sent shivers down his spine as he got goosebumps. That cord though... Harry flushed red as he suddenly realized how long the cord was. He quickly averted his eyes hoping it hadn't noticed where he was looking.

"Like what you see?" Came the cocky voice of the waffle iron, the tone suggesting it knew just where Harry was looking.

"M...maybe." Harry managed to get out, his face growing redder by the second.

"Awe, don't be embarrassed." Teased the waffle iron. "It's kind of flattering actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm an older model and the Dursleys have been thinking of replacing me with a newer model. It's... nice being appreciated."

"Replace you!?" Shouted Harry aghast. The very idea was infuriating! How could they do that to such a wonderful waffle iron!? "I would never replace you!"

"Really?" Gasped the waffle iron. If it had cheeks they would be blushing right now.

"How could I? I've never seen such a perfect model before." Harry said, his hand reaching out and caressing the curved side. The iron gasped as his fingers brush against its body.

"Harry? Do you really mean it?" Came its husky whisper.

"Of course I do." He said firmly, his fingers still tracing the curves of the waffle iron.

"Then do you want to maybe... plug me in?" Harry's heart was set aflutter at those words.

"Yes." He said as his other hand joined the first on the waffle iron. His exploring fingers left smudges and print all along the waffle iron's chrome, but neither of them cared. One of his hands drifted along to the back, his fingers grasping the base of the cord.

"Oh Harry!" Moaned the waffle iron as Harry went down the length. Reaching the end of the cord, Harry ran his thumbs across the prongs, enjoying every little reaction from waffle iron.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"Yes." With that Harry took the end of the cord and lined the plug up with a nearby outlet. Carefully, he lined the prongs up with the holes before quickly jamming it all the way in. The red light on the top of the iron, no not just the iron but now his iron, blinked on as it began to heat up. Harry lowered his mouth and kissed from the top down to the bottom of the top lid. He opened his waffle iron up, exposing its perfect grid to him. His lips parted as his tongue snaked out and licked the warming grid, his tongue occasionally dipping down into the grooves. He teased and licked every inch of the grid and started losing himself to the act.

He was soon brought back by two things. The first of course being the realization that waffle irons, and tomatoes for that matter, didn't talk, even in the wizarding world. The second was the burning pain on his face as the waffle iron heated itself to a temperature more suited to cooking waffles than whatever the wizard hell Harry was doing to it. It occurred to him very suddenly that he should immediately stop.

"Wizard god damnit!" He yelled as he pulled his face out of the waffle iron.

The rest of the summer past rather uneventfully for Harry. The burns he had sustained on his face had healed quickly even without magic, and the Dursleys didn't care enough to press the issue. Over all the entire experience remained Harry's little secret.

Harry put the last couple of things in his trunk as he got ready to leave for school. He was excited as always, and ready to see all of his friends again. He opened the trunk one last time to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything and smiled widely as his eyes landed on the waffle iron. Yes, he was excited to see his friends again, especially the Weasley twins.