A/N: Wow, was really bored so decided to do this, part two! Now, messing with Harry and the grandness of yet another boyband. And I know N SYNC wasn't around when You-Know-Who was attatcking, but whatever.
Disclaimer: I apologize to J.K. Rowling for using your characters, and to N SYNC for using your lyrics and referencing to you.
If you talked to his friends, they would all say that he is a really cool guy, very loyal, very trusting. He was excellent at Quidditch, and is a pretty good student. Except, when he went on his pop-spazzes. Ron and Hermione could only tell you how many times they had to force him in a broom closet when he started to perform his choreographing.
Yes, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, was an N SYNC addict. But, it hadn't always been this way.
Ever since his fourth year, where he started sharing connections with you-know-who, he began to continuously dye his hair lighter shades of blonde, wearing an upside down visor. He cut his hair shorter and even attempted to curl it with magic, which resulted in a trip to Madam Pomfrey.
No one blamed him, for Lord Voldemort was quite the N SYNC fan, and as former Tom Riddle continued to sing to "Bye Bye Bye," Harry fell victim to the boy band trap.
The worst occurrence was during potions one fateful Friday afternoon in November. Everyone was anxious for the weekend, and Harry kept spacing in and out, eventually falling asleep in his chair. A few seconds later his body convulsed as his mind melded with the evil power.
"Mr. Potter, I'd appreciate it if you would stay awake during my CLASS!" Snape bellowed, furious on the outside, yet giddy as a schoolgirl on the inside for an actual reason to yell at Potter. Kinda like a twisted twinkie, really.
Harry seemed not to notice, so Snape just went on rambling on in his element. Suddenly, his peroxide-d head perked up and called out,
"Yo, man you just gotta chillax in this hizzouse! It's coo, it's coo," as if he was the reincarnation of Justin Timberlake himself. Like Jesus in a non-religious way, (if you can compare the rebirth of J.T. to Christ, that's a sin in itself.)
"Excuse me?!" No one had ever talked back to Snape in ebonics before. He was steaming mad, and didn't understand one word of what the student had said. "Hold that thought," he spoke, taking out a pair of old lady glasses and thumbing through a rather beat up, odd-looking dictionary. After a few flips of the page he burst out, so that Harry could understand,
"No I will certainly not 'chill out' with you 'dawg' I gotta tizzle the clizzle todizzle!" he spat, in all seriousness.
"Word. I hear ya, but you gotta tone that mofo down, it's all 'bout the peace up ih HE-YA!" Harry exclaimed, standing up from his seat and raising the roof.
Most of his classmates watched in humorous horror, not sure whether to laugh or be afraid for Harry's general well being. Some students joined in and egged him on, standing up in their chairs, repeating the motion. Dean Thomas just shook his head and cried.
Snape was in a stupor, torn. Half of him was livid for Potter acting like this. The other half wanted to swoon, even his voice sounded like Justin's! No one knew that under his robe he was wearing an "I Kissed Justin Backstage" pink tee shirt. How could he yell at an incarnation of America's bad boy, cry-baby sex god?! The result was:
"GET OUT!"
Without even a bat of an eyelash, Harry made the 'east side' hand symbol and said goodbye to the class.
"Holla at me lata, Teach. Peace out!"
Dean Thomas never really did recover.
....
Harry hated going home for the summer, but not for the reason that is most obviously portrayed. Sure, doing chores sucks, and who wants to do that. School would seem like a heaven for you, and you know it. No chores, parties til 5am the next morning. No bed times, buttloads of food every night. Just because the reader doesn't follow Ron and Hermione's summers doesn't mean that their summers don't suck, too.
ANYWAY, Harry didn't really mind doing the chores, or being shoved in an average-sized room. But one thing made him absolutely abhor this household.
It was a "NO N SYNC" Zone. In a "NO N SYNC" neighborhood. Even the towns name translated into "Death of the In Synced Ones". This meant no posters, no playing the music. No MTV, (or it's half brother once removed channel, VH1, and it's brother from another mother, BET, even though I highly doubt that N SYNC was ever on BET.) no bedspread, no anything. Especially no concerts anywhere near here, which probably made Harry the most depressed. "All the other kids with messed up lives on the national news get to meet their favorite celebrities" he bitterly thought to himself, kicking his backpack, which SHOULD have been N SYNCified but the Dursley's wouldn't have allowed it in the house. He couldn't even keep his hair short and blonde, causing his dark roots to show through.
After realizing this he cried for about an hour in front of the mirror, humming "Tearing Up My Heart" to himself while trying every hair care product that J.C. Chasez himself recommended. He eventually got over his follicle catastrophy and put his hair up with a bandana.
He kept telling himself he had to be strong, just like Justin was, in the old days. He had to believe in himself, like he thoroughly believed that Lance would go to space someday. He believed that he could have any career he wanted, just like Chris Kirpatrick on the Fairly Odd Parents on Nickelodeon. He, too, could make a cameo appearance in a cheesy cartoon.
Yes, with these hopes and dreams, Harry could make it, each day tellin' his fears that they're 'gone', that in a 'pop' he'll be older and 'doin his thing'. Even though he's a 'celebrity', he'll 'promise you' that he'll make it with 'no strings attatched'. He won't 'drive himself crazy' anymore, it's not 'tearin' up his heart'.
And if you tell him he can't do it, he'll just tell you "BYE BYE BYE!"
A/N: Yeah it got really cheesy at the end. One more chapter to come! (actually I have another idea for another chapter if you really want. Or I could just get to the clashing =D)
I'll leave you with that, please read and review!