Crack Whores: Time for something different! Or damn it if it has been done. Bah!

Disclaimer: Does it sound like we own Harry Potter? If so, then, wow, no, we own nothing.

Warning: Reading through this may cause slight retardation, bleeding of the eyes, cancer of the right index finger, or perhaps entertainment. Gasp! But no matter what, review! We must know what really happens!

Non Sequitur

Harry Potter stumbled his way along the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room. He was worn down and completely exhausted after a treacherous Quidditch practice. The others had long since abandoned him for the warmth and comfort of their beds while he had stayed out in the rain practicing catching the snitch over and over again. Practicing helped him forget…forget the pain and torment of a burning yet unrequited love.

He finally found the portrait of the fat lady and mumbled, "Lemon pudding." The fat lady swung open with a strident yawn and Harry fell inside. The common room was abandoned except for one. And as Harry's eyes met the brilliant amber ones staring at him intently, he felt the sudden need to take a cold shower.

But Harry's legs betrayed their master. He stood paralyzed as those eyes shamelessly ravished his body, mentally stripping him and cladding him in leather and enjoying those delicious beads of sweat and how they gave Harry's body a heavenly glow. Or so Harry could only assume. He could never fully understand the one who tormented him so, who haunted his dreams, who enveloped his thoughts, who sat comfortably on a chair merely a few steps in front of him.

The tormentor continued to stare. Yes, just stare – that was enough to show how much power he had over Harry. Enough of this! Harry wanted to scream, but he could not find his voice. The lump growing in his throat blocked it. And the blood rushing from his brain to his cheeks and other areas only worked to further hinder his body's once natural functions.

After a few more blissful moments of seductive eye lock, Harry finally found his voice.

"How are you, baby?"

There was a long period of silence.

"Oh, so you're still mad at me?"

Another long moment passed.

"Baby, please, your silence is killing me!"

Harry felt numb, as though it was not actually him striding closer to his love. Oh, but how delightful it is to be as light as a feather and have no other thought breeze through your mind except for just the vaguest idea of what to do next. Perhaps he was possessed, but one thing was for sure: he was obsessed with his love.

"Baby," Harry desperately repeated as he sat himself on the armrest and stared pleadingly at his love. "…You know how I feel." He caressed his love's soft, flowing, red hair. "It's not fair you don't have to say a word." Harry moaned a sensual sound. "How do you keep doing this to me?"

Harry's love got up and walked briskly away.

"Babe, I told you I didn't kiss her! I swear it was just a rumor!" Harry ran after him and gently placed his arms around his shoulders. Harry received a glare full of knowledge in return. He finally broke down crying. "Okay. Okay. I kissed her, alright?! But I didn't mean it! I don't love her the way that I love you! It was just to throw them off! They'll never suspect us now. Doll, one day we'll be able to tell the world! One day we'll walk out together! But for now, please understand."

Harry's love knew this as the truth. He knew that Harry was as gay as a sailor surrounded by cowboys and that Ginny worked nicely as a cover-up. But this meant he did not have absolute power over Harry, and how frustrating that was for someone so power-hungry.

Suddenly, Harry pulled his lover up to his eye level. With a pleading look in his eye, Harry drew his lover into a passionate kiss. Just then, Hermione walked down the girl's dormitory stairs.

"Oh…my…God…" she stuttered. Harry quickly pulled away. "Harry…are you kissing my cat??!!"