Summary: Oh my Rowling! Harry Freaking Potter in canon? For this cracky crossover grab your red vines, reread Hogwarts, A History, feel the sting in your lightning scar, and choreograph your way through Going Back To Hogwarts! ~ Takes place HP6/mid-way through AVPM.

Author's Notes: A decently written Harry Potter/A Very Potter Musical crossover? Yes, the world is definitely about to end. But until it does why not enjoy this crazy fic? The story is a collaboration project between Mr. Bludger, Miss Helga and Miss A which began one night after far too many chocolate chip cookies and sugar. Miss A thinks their dreams of red vines resulted in the birth of this fic. HUZZAH!

General Disclaimer: We know we don't deserve these awful rules made by reality, here on Privet Drive. We're sick of all these muggles (and their lawyers), yet despite all of our struggles, we're still not J.K. Rowling! Or Darren Criss. And red vine-less. Shame, that.

Harry Potter had a terrible urge to sing. This was less than shocking, considering his trying day.

It had actually begun normally enough, before spiralling downward like a choreographing Death Eater with a time turner. He'd woken up to Ron watching him sleep, played a bit of guitar, and looked up cities in Canada. But then Hermione Freaking Granger had her 'wonderful' idea and decided that the boy-who-lived apparently couldn't survive facing a measly dragon.

Maybe it had something to do with finding him feeding her notes on said fiery beasts to Scabbers (who, for some reason, wouldn't eat them), but whatever it was she'd gotten huffy. Not even the nose trick would work. She kept going on and on about his reckless ways, his hair flipping, and how he didn't even care if he lived or died.

Ron had nodded along, until he realised he was agreeing with Hermione. Neville had raced away in fright mid-way through the lecture. Harry had mostly blocked her out until the last bit:

"–at least practice!" She waved her hands in emphasis. "I got a note from Dra–er–'Little D', and he had a good idea. There's a thing called the Room of Requirement next to the hidden swimming pool and–"

"Wait wait wait," Harry cut her off, "Room of Requirement? That means I can get anything I require! So I'll wish to not have to fight the dragon. Or that I'll fight an imaginary dragon, Puff the Magic Dragon..."

"You can also get the room to 'require' Cho Chang goes out with you." Ron chimed in, his voice muffled by a half-chewed red vine.

"Yes." Harry pointed at his best friend. "That. Exactly. See Hermione? We have nothing to worry about."

The brunette looked less than convinced. "I think it can only work inside the room, Harry."

"Oh, don't be such a know-it-all." Ron dismissed her statement. "I bet we can make a castle full of chocolate. Or, or a castle made of chocolate and Zac Efron posters! Or a room where Hermione doesn't cause butterflies to appear in my stomach!"

She perked up in disbelief. "What?"

"Nothing!" The redhead backed away, taking another bite of his treat in horror. "Er, red vines! Lots and lots of red vines."

Harry nodded, oblivious to the sexual tension. "Yep, that! So let's go solve the dragon problem and then get all that we 'require'."

"WOO!" Ron charged ahead to drag a Hufflepuff off to find the room for them.

Harry had always been one to live off of his instincts. So if his gut screamed for music, well, he'd race off to the dorm for his guitar. Never mind hidden rooms, Hufflepuffs, dragons, or possibly fatal situations–this took all precedence.

"Harry Potter!"

"Lo best friend's little sister." Harry waved nonchalantly. He adjusted the guitar strap around his shoulder, strolling out of the Fat Lady's portrait with the petite redhead right at his heels.

"Harry Potter!" Ginny repeated in excitement, clipping her yellow shoes together like a ginger Dorothy. "Where are you going?"

"To grab a Hufflypuff. No big." He strummed a few notes. "We're heading to the Room of Requirement by the hidden swimming pool. Yeah, I 'require' a way to get rid of the dragon."

"Oh golly gee Harry Potter! A dragon!" She squealed. "Can I help?"

"Eh, sure." He had stopped paying attention and was looking behind her at a returning Ron and Hermione with Cedric Diggory in tow. "Oh, oh my freaking Rowling. No. No! What's he doing here?"

Ron shrugged as Ginny happily skipped away, looking like she'd been felix felicised. "He was the only 'Puff with a spare minute. Something about herding honeybadgers?"

"No!" Harry pointed a finger in Cedric's smiling face. "I know you're trying to sabotage me with the task."

"What?" The older boy tilted his head, his grin never fading. "Ah, no. Ronald here wished for me to find something."

"You can't fool me!"

"Well then," Cedric said huffily–though happily, "find another Badger. What do I care?"

"No, Harry don't!" Hermione cried before turning to the Hufflepuff pleadingly. "You'd be able to use the room as well. Just, please, help us get there."

"Well, there is one thing. Cho and I have been looking for a more private spot." Cedric mused reluctantly. "We keep hearing guitar music and crying when we go to our usual place."

Hermione stomped on an enraged Harry's foot to stop him from interrupting. Ron munched on a Hershey's chocolate bar.

Ginny Weasley was almost as happy as though she had an imaginary companion in a journal. For, if she helped Harry Potter, they'd be friends. Right? And maybe even more, maybe, if she started acting more like Cho Chang and...

She shook her head to get rid of these thoughts. First things first: help Harry Potter. Find Headmaster Dumbledore to find out where the room was, and then the boy-who-lived would be happy! A shy smile returned to her lips and, with a new bounce in her steps, raced up to the head office and gave a quick barber's knock.

"Professor?" Ginny poked her head in through the open door as the Headmaster looked up. Scarfy hurried the Sorting Hat back into a secluded corner with a final 'Dearie'. "I'm sorry to bug you, but, do you know where I could find the Room of Requirement? I'm trying to help Harry Potter."

"That's very nice of you Mist–pardon me–Missus Weasley." Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. "I'm glad to hear you're aiding Hogwarts' sexiest student."

"Did somebody say Draco Malfoy?" Draco stepped in through the still propped open entrance from stage right. Crabbe and Goyle snarled to heighten the atmosphere.

"Malfoy, get your pampered butt out of my office!" Dumbledore huffed. "Headmaster Zefron viewing hours are between 5-7. Besides, we were talking about Harry Potter."

Draco flicked his hair. "Oh, Moonshoes Potter? Rocketship Potter? Starkid Potter, traversing the galaxy for–"

"Silencio." Dumbledore idly flicked his wand before sighing with relief. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other uncertainly, but halted any counter-attack by a single glance from the Headmaster. Draco continued pointing at his mouth in a furious silent scream. He wondered if he was bleeding. "Thank wizarding god. Now then, the Room of Requirement? It's by the hidden swimming pool."

"I know that." Ginny fidgeted, stepping away from the fuming Slytherins. "I just don't know where that is either."

"Well, I certainly can't tell you that it's in the forbidden third floor corridor next to the nargle pit, or that you have to pace the hallway three times while thinking of what you require." Dumbledore returned to wisely stroking his beard. Its silvery thread twinkled in the stage lights. "And I absolutely can't tell you that it will reveal your heart's deepest desires."

"What?" She gave a start, her eyes widening like a startled Mrs Norris. Draco shared a startled look with Goyle.

"Oh wait," the Headmaster paused, "that'd be the Mirror of Erised, seventh floor. Never mind, not relevant. Tell me Missus Weasley, do you happen to remember what 'foreshadowing' means?"

"I," Ginny hesitated, "no, not really?"

"Definitely doesn't matter then." Dumbledore exclaimed heartily. "Right then, off you go. Don't let me catch you near Harry Potter's invisibility cloak or the third floor."

"Harry Potter has a cloak?" She gasped. "But, but why would anyone not want to see Harry Potter?"

Dumbledore began to answer before pausing in thought. "That is a very good question."

It was surprisingly easy to steal Harry's cloak. Not 'steal', borrow. Yes. Because he would need it if he was fighting the dragon, right? Thus, it was only a short time later that Ginny found herself on the deserted corridor, looking around in frustration.

"They must have gone already. I have to follow them: Harry Potter needs his cloak! Okay, so happy thoughts. Like Peter Pan. I want to follow them. I want to follow them. I want to follow them."

'But I don't really.' Her traitorous mind spun off on a tangent as her footsteps quickened. 'I want, I want Harry Potter to look at me. To love me. Not, not just be 'Ron's little sister'...I wish for a place where Harry didn't care about Cho...oh, why can't he see what he's doing to me?'

A minute later she silently opened and shut the door, her thoughts heavy.

"Finally!" Harry snarled as Cedric at last came to a halt. "You must have led us around the castle a dozen times."

"Well I found a way out of that nargle pit." Cedric said with a smile that was as close to a frown as he could get. "I'd like to see you do better."

"Hey! I distracted those things with music." He protested with narrowing eyes. "Ever heard of a little thing called, the power of wrock?"

Hermione looked confused. "I thought–wasn't it the 'power of love'?"

"Shut up Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, waving his giant candy bar.

Cedric raised an eyebrow at them. "If you've forgotten, weren't you trying to find this room?"

"Right, right." She came up and peered at the wall where there was only an outline of a door. "The note said that we have to think of what we want, pace up and down the hallway three times, and an entrance will appear to take us to what we 'require'."

With a last few glares, the group started down the corridor.

'Something to stop the dragon...' Harry began to think before his eyes caught sight of a blindly grinning Cedric. The dark-haired boy gripped his guitar tighter, anger creating a monster in his chest, '...no, to be with the girl I love...the girl I love...'

Meanwhile, Hermione stole a guilty glance at her best friend. 'It doesn't matter if we wish for different things, right? Everyone else wants a way for Harry to survive. I could, what would it hurt? I want...a place where I was welcome by everyone...not derided for my intelligence...surrounded by friends...considered beautiful...'

'Food. Food food food. So hungry.' Ron groaned, his feet tumbling after the others. 'Why couldn't we do this after second breakfast? And–huh–how does Harry get his hair like that? Adorably ruffly and...focus Ron, focus. All right. What do I wish? Uh, stop the dragon. Yeah. But I'll just sabotage the other champions, so why bother? Instead I,' he caught sight of Harry and, tugging at his headband, couldn't help the spiral of his thoughts, 'I could be popular like him. Why not? The Quidditch star, name in The Prophet...still his best mate just, just where people noticed me too...where Hermione noticed me...'

Cedric's smile lapsed into a frown once he saw that Harry had stopped staring at him and everyone else was concentrating. 'Can't Potter see that I'm helping him? Fine then, forget about the dragon, I'll figure something out without cheating. What I want is for that brat to appreciate me...to be humbler...to stop living off his fame...to care whether or not I and everyone else was there...to stop with the guitar already...to stop trying to steal Cho from me!'

The others never noticed three figures peering around the corner, watching silently as a door materialised and the group of Gryffindors and sole Hufflepuff ran through, slamming the entrance behind them before the eavesdroppers could follow.

They were met with a castle. An actual one, as far as they could tell, with sweeping tapestries, rustic large stones, and a wide corridor with snoozing portraits swept with darkness. Cedric gazed around curiously. "This, this doesn't look like a room.." his sentence dwindled off as a flame of roaring fire appeared before them. A twirling song tinkled resoundingly, sinking into their very souls as the cascading sparks sprouted wings and a regally inclined head. None of the students noticed the door disappearing into the space between spaces behind them.

In the next moment, the song had stopped and a phoenix was staring at them oddly. His head tilted like an existential cat.

"Twee."

Hermione gasped at the sight. Her nerd wonder tingled. "Is, is that a–"

"–TURKEY!" Ron cried, giving a whoop and diving at the shocked bird. Said 'turkey' gave an indignant shriek and began flying in the other direction.

"TWEET!"

A puff of flame soared back at them, nearly singeing the smile off of Cedric's perfect face. But the determined redhead still raced after the retreating prize. His befuddled friends were close behind him, and by the end of the night most of the portraits were given a rather rude awakening from a chasing and shouting match that would cover all of Hogwarts.

A/N: Mr. Bludger, Miss Helga and Miss A are crazy fanpeople. Miss Helga and Miss A met at a creative writing society, the three of them became best mates at their uni's Harry Potter Soc, and Mr. Bludger and Miss A had their eyes transfigured. The rest? The rest has been totally awesome. For between Mr. Bludger's hilarity, Miss Helga's amazing linguistic skills, and Miss A's ability to write gibberish, writing a collaboration fanfic was inevitable.

With their arguably undying obsession with HP, AVPM, and singing constantly (or practising Voldy impressions), this crossover was a piece of pasty.

As easy as eating red vines, ya'll.