Harry Potter and the Toilet and the Guidos of that Chamber
Harry sat, rubbing his scar. "Ow," he proclaimed.
"Does it hurt?" asked Hermione, her eyes round with concern.
Harry lifted an asscheek, exposing his extra eyebrow. Her nostrils flared, as the scent of Ramen noodles filled the air. "Harry that makes me wants you," she said, belching.
"No," said Harry, "I'm not wearing my helmet!"
Hermione sunk in her chair and put away her spoon. Harry was suddenly reminded of Mr. Weasley's pale cock. "I would like some of that chocolate cake, Jeremy Fisher". Harry began to moan with gusto. "I just realized, I kept the curling iron on," said Harry.
Hermione consoled him by offering nice toast that Ron had partially sculpted into the shape of Snape's ears. Raising an eyebrow, Harry took the toast and consumed it vigorously. "Hermione," he said, crumbs falling from his oral cavity. "Do you ever think butt holes look like stars?" His eyes looked dreamy.
"WHA?!" Hermione inquired. "You know," he started, "in astrology, there are a bunch of butt holes..." Harry was star struck, suddenly reminded of Mr. Weasley's supple fingers, and the way they caressed Mrs. Weasley's fantastic clock. Suddenly marshmallows erupted from inside of Harry's shirt. "Do you want to take a swim in my lake?" asked Harry, barking at the window. Hermione died. Then Ron the Runt walked in farting.
THE END