Only gay people eat hippogriff sandwiches. Disclaimer: I own nothing, and am happy about it. If I owned something, I'd have a bunch of freaks on Fanfiction making them do stuff. No offense. This was written to offset my hyperness, and is much more productive then simply jumping up and down for several hours.
Harry was hungry. Ravishingly hungry. So hungry he was ready to eat a hippogriff.
Actually, a hippogriff didn't sound half-bad, considering how hungry he was. He pulled on his lovely Invisibility Cloak and set off for the kitchens.
Peeves passed him in the halls. He had black stripes painted under his eyes and was holding a small black balloon.
"Kamikaze!" he swooped down on Mrs. Norris, drenching her with water. A few seconds later, a rattling voice roared, "PEEVES!"
Harry pressed himself against the wall until he heard a nasal giggling. "Hello, Harry."
"How'd you know it was me?" he hissed to Moaning Myrtle.
"Silly Harry, you didn't put on the real Invisibility Cloak! You put on the Cloak from the movies that only turns you into a hazy outline!"
"Oh." he sounded depressed. "Really?"
"Mmhmm." she sounded cheerful.
"You mean, if I were to get stuck in a staircase, Snape would know I was there?" his voice was low and full of despair.
"Of course!"
"Oh well," Harry chirped, his voice considerably brightened. "Being the protagonist of this story, I'll continue wearing this so that someone will see me and something dramatic will happen!"
"You go do that." Myrtle said, giving him a thumbs up.
Harry jogged down the hallways until he heard a tortured, self-loathing voice.
"Hermione," the silky voice said, "I know I'm a pureblood, and all available resources say I should hate you for being a mudbood, but I feel a deep attraction for you."
"Sex me up, baby!" Hermione responded, flipping back her magically straightened hair. She and Draco ran off to an abandoned classroom where some voyeur was undoubtedly hiding, and Harry stood stock-still, his eye twitching slightly.
Ignoring the fact that his best friend had just gone off to fuck a Slytherin, he continued his journey to the kitchen.
"It so bad, but it feels so good!" came a voice from the shadows. Harry bent down to see Blaise Zabini snorting crack. She had thick black hair and an olive complexion, and was obviously completely ignoring the fact that the divine creator, J.K. Rowling, had said she was a black male.
"Alright then." Harry said quizzically. He sprinted down to the kitchen, tickled the pair, and nearly bowled over a house-elf in his haste.
"Hey, Harry!" a red-haired someone said from his perch on a counter.
"What're you doing up this time of night?" the red-haired someone's twin asked.
"But I'm in my sixth year!" Harry insisted. "You two can't be here! You left!"
The twins disappeared in a puff of logic.
"May I have a hippogriff sandwich?" Harry inquired politely to a small elf standing near him.
The little elf pulled a sandwich out from under his sock hat, handing it to Harry.
As soon as the first bit of hippogriff meat touched Harry's tongue, he felt strange. He dropped the sandwich and ran out to the hallway.
Using his marvelous soprano voice, he sung while skipping, "I feel pretty! I feel pretty! I feel pretty, and witty, and gay!"
The handsome, black-haired Gryffindor sex-god had a strange desire to go make out with his best friend Ronald.
Harry shook Ron awake, and said quickly, "Ron, I know we're supposed to be straight as posts, but let's make out!"
"Okay!" Ron agreed brightly. They commenced to make out, until Seamus woke up.
"Blimey mate!" Seamus said indignantly. "If ya were going ta become gay, you could'a' waited for me!"
It then appeared that all the sixth year Gryffindors were gay and lusted for Harry.
"But why?" Harry groaned the next morning.
Hermione appeared out of nowhere to explain. "You ate hippogriff meat! Everyone knows that hippogriff meat turns you into a gay sex god! Anyone who read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."
I was wrong. This was only slightly more productive than jumping up and down for several hours.
Review, por favor!