A.N. This was made on "Writing day" with my friends. We spent the whole day writing a 'childrens book' (Witch turned out not so suitible for children) and this. I wrote about 95 of it, but there is a sentence here or there that isnt mine. The first couple of "chapters" were parts of the actual books, but tweaked to give them different meaning, but after that I just started writing crazy monkey. I know it doesnt make overly much sence, it isn't supposed to. It makes way more sence then the other book we wrote though. It is 100 parody and humour.
Full of sex and sexual references. Read on, but you have been warned; It is weird.
The morning after.
"No!" said Harry and Ron together, avoiding each other's eyes. Hermione sighed exasperated, and laid down her soft feathery quill.
"Well obviously he is feeling very sad because of Cedric dying. And feeling Cedric while he was dying." She said, indicating towards Ron, but talking as though he was not in the room. "Then I expect he's feeling Cedric, because he liked Cedric, and now he likes Harry, and he cant work out who he likes best."
Suddenly Dobby the house-elf cracked into the room, eyes wide fearing fearfully. "Harry shall not go to Hogwarts!"
Hermione ignored him, and continued.
"Then he'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and he'll be worrying about what everyone might say about him if he starts going out with Harry…."
A stunned silence greeted the end of this rant, then Ron said, "But… I can't feel all that, I'll explode!"
Harry winked at him. "I'll make sure you 'explode'." He said suggestively. Ron turned an even deeper shade of red. "But I'm sorry Ron, about the other night… you didn't start it, then your crying all over me, I couldn't help myself! I didn't know what to do!"
"I don't blame you, love." Ron said affectionately, looking embarrassed at Harry's openness.
"You should have been nice to him!" said Hermione looking at Harry anxiously, and turned to Ron. "He was nice to you right?"
"Well…" Said Harry, an unpleasant heat creeping up his face, "I sort of … tied him up a bit, but I was nice, I was!"
Hermione looked like she was trying to restrain herself from throwing up with extreme difficulty.
Dobby jumped on the table, desperate to get their attention. "Harry must NOT go to Hogwarts!!!" He screeched loudly.
Hermione cracked up laughing, and punched them both on the shoulder.
"Nah, I'm just pulling your dicks, guys!" She giggled hysterically.
Harry and Ron glanced at each other, concerned.
"I think she's cracked mate." Ron said sadly.
The sequel of no return.
Hermione lay asleep in the hospital wing. The sun was lighting up her hair, making it shimmer and shine on the strong contrast of the white pillow.
Harry and Ron sat silently beside her. They glanced at each other and shared guilty looks. Ron was the first to speak.
"Who would have thought coming out would've driven her mad…" He said, giggling nervously. Once again Dobby appeared, and tried desperately to get their attention.
"Harry. Potter. Shall. Not. Go. To. Fucking. Hogwarts!" Once again, he went ignored.
"She's gonna be fine Ron…" Harry said, and stroked his freckled hand caringly. Ron leaned into his embrace and rested his head on Harry's strong shoulder.
"Wonder if she'll accept us sooner or later…" said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione's ridged face. "Because I guess we sorta sneaked up on her, no-one knew, we were so secretive…"
But Harry wasn't looking at Hermione's face. He was more interested in her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, he saw a piece of paper was clenched inside her fist.
Making sure their sleeping friend wouldn't wake up, he pointed this out to Ron.
"Try and get it out," Ron whispered, shifting shiftily in his chair.
It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clasped so tightly around the paper that Harry was sure he was going to tear it. If it hadn't been for the strong sleeping draught keeping Hermione sedated, she would've woken up by now. While Ron watched anxiously as Harry tugged and twisted, and at last, after several minutes, the paper came free.
It was a page of school paper, which Hermione had been using as a makeshift diary the night before, while resting in the Hospital wing. Harry and Ron's eyes flicked over the neatly written lines, but for all of Hermione's neat writing, much of the writing was smudged with small teardrops.
My life is over. My futile existence is a deep dark chasm of despair. The only bright thing in my small world, (other than my grades…) Ron, is in "love" with my best friend Harry! The two men in my life, the one I love, and the one I care about so deeply, are absorbed in their own little world. They kept this secret from me for too long! Okay, so they told me the night after, but still, they should've told me how they felt before then. I cant believe they don't trust me enough, I cant believe Ron doesn't love me, I cant believe they are gay! Stupid Faggots! Oh my god, now that fat cow "Madam" Pomphrey, is coming to drug me to sleep. I just want to go back to my dorm and maybe make out with Lavender. She's really hotteh!
Harry glanced at Ron, whose plump lips were formed into a small "O", his round, blue eyes wide with shock.
"Hermione liked me?" He finally managed after stammering a few random syllables.
"Looked like…" Harry replied, and ran his hand through Ron's soft hair.
Fin… for now.
An argument, and a reunion.
"Harry shall not-," exclaimed Dobby as he appeared next to Harry and Ron in an intimate moment "Oh god my eyes, I give up!" said Dobby, who promptly disappeared.
"Was that…?" Harry said, starting, his slender nude body appearing even paler in the white moonlight streaming in from the window.
"Dobby? Yeah." Ron said, reclined against the pillows, tugging softly at Harry's shoulder, urging him back to bed.
Harry lay back next to him, blinking slowly, before rolling over and kissing Ron, his persistent (but not unwelcome) tongue pushing into his young lovers sweet mouth. His hand swept down Ron's body, and this author's attention was diverted to the curtains… hmm, silky. I wonder how much they cost...
In the bed on their right two boys sat, a scrabble board between them, but very little placed down.
"Are they going to stop soon?" Neville said, his voice shaking.
"I dunno… God I hope so!" Seamus replied, sounding equally disturbed.
Neville lay down a short word, gaining a triple word score. Seamus swore quietly, his swear matched in a loud gasp from the bed on their left.
Interlude- the next day Harry Ron and Hermione sat, bored out of their brains in History of Magic. Professor Binn's voice drawled on, repeating dates, times and events to the silently asleep class. Well, Hermione wasn't asleep, she was obediently taking notes. And Harry wasn't asleep, he was watching Ron's back heave, rising and falling with deep, sleepy breaths. But everyone else was asleep, and that's why they missed what happened next.
And so will you.
That weekend was abnormally warm. The sun shone down, and sweat was evaporating as fast as it could be produced. Most of the school was lazing lazily in the shallows of the lake. A small group of students (including Harry, Ron, Hermione and Harry's ex-girlfriend Cho Chang) were chilling, trying to cool down in a rather sunny part of the grounds.
"How 'bout a wet pants contest?" Fred Weasley suggested, sweeping his wand majestically. Suddenly boys and girls alike were dressed in thin tight white pants.
Ron laughed, eyeing Harry's gorgeous package.
"Not for me…" Harry objected modestly, using his wand to restore his pants to his casual Levis. And Ron was cool with that.
"Fine," Said George, Fred's identical twin. (Which you should now, coz I'm assuming you've read the books, and I mean if you haven't, why are you reading Fan-fiction. That's just sad. It's like watching a movie with audio commentary before you see the movie. Seriously, who does that?) "You don't have to participate if you don't want to. Here, conjure your names into this hat," He pulled his cap off his head, and held it forward. "Put your names in here, and I'll draw 3 names out. Those 3 people prepare to be soaked through!"
The fairly large crowd of students swept their wands, and a pile of names appeared in the hat. Ron entered, but Harry and Hermione were way too prudish.
George brandished the hat flamboyantly, and pulled the first name out.
"Professor Mcgonagall…? Okay, who put that in here?" A 2nd year with mousy hair snickered and raised his hand, and the Weasley twins rolled their eyes, and drew out another name.
"Parvati!" Fred shouted, waving his wand. The young girl was soon dressed in the dreadful white pants. Just the dreadful white pants. She walked forward, ready to be watered down.
"Hannah!" George called forward a large 1st year.
The so-called 'Hannah' waddled forward and stood, waiting for the dreaded white pants. Fred, covering his eyes, conjured the dreaded white pants onto the cellulite-covered legs of hers. The crowd moaned with one voice "Uuuuuuggggggggggggghhh!!!" Hannah wiggled her large butt coyly and winked to the disgusted crowd, seemingly oblivious to their repulsed expressions.
"Okay…" Fred said, recovering. "Last, but hopefully not least… Harry Potter!"
"I didn't enter!" Harry called up, not moving.
"I don't care! Get up here you big hunk of man-meat!" George called out, his voice layered with peer-pressure. Harry stumbled up, growing beetroot red. He looked into the group around him. He tried to catch eyes with Hermione to save him, but she was erupting in giggles as the 'pants' appeared on Harry's scrawny legs. He stared at Ron, who winked and smirked, mouthing, "HOT!" to his boyfriend.
As Harry raised his wand to return his jeans, a cold stream of water soaked through the horrid pants, making them transparent and clingy. He waved his wand, returning his jeans, and storming off before any serious embarrassment ensued.
Harry was sulking on his bed in the dormitory. He was pouting at the roof, his lower lip thrust forward pathetically. He heard the door open and close. He relaxed the pout, closing his eyes, and feigning sleep. He felt a weight at the end of the bed, and became aware of Ron crawling up to hold himself over his body. Ron's lips swept over Harry's un-responding mouth.
"What's wrong?" He inquired, his mouth still mere inches from Harry's.
"I can't believe you would embarrass me like that Ron." He replied flatly. It was clear that this betrayal meant more to him than Ron expected. Ron was confused, and didn't understand the pain Harry was feeling because of him. This was the first major hurdle in their relationship, and, despite the non-severity of the cause of the argument, it wasn't clear whether it was something they could just bounce back from.
"I'm sorry Harry." Ron said, with a slight shake in his voice as he slid off the bed and pulled on his dressing gown. "I'm going to see if Hermione's still in the common room. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight."
As Harry felt, rather than heard the door slam shut, his stubborn façade crumbled, and he felt tears well up behind his green eyes, and felt the cool salty wetness flood over his supple pubescent cheeks.
"Hermione, I don't get why he's so fucking mad!" Ron sobbed, knobbly elbows resting on his knobbly knees, as his freckled hands cradled his damp face. His female friends hands caressed his shoulder blades in a futile attempt you comfort him. (And cop a feel.)
She sighed soothingly, and wrapped her arms full around him.
"Maybe you two just weren't meant to be…" She cooed into his ear, and as much as he hated the thought, he knew she may be right.
"Maybe." He admitted, burying his face into her shoulder. Well, he tried to bury his face into her shoulder, but at that moment she turned to face him, so his face more ended up in her breastal area.
"Hermione!" He screeched, pulling away sharply. She let her face drop, and looked up at him through her thick eyelashes.
"Sorry Ron." She mumbled, voice laced with wistful lost lust. "Well, I'm not sorry really. I know you saw my diary entry."
"Hermione, no. I saw it, I'm sorry; I don't feel that way about you!" She looked up and opened her mouth angrily, as if to speak. He cut her off. "I mean, you're pretty! Hell, you're beautiful! You're fucking stunning Herm! But I'm with Harry now. And I love him. And it may be over, but I still want to… Oh, what the hell!" He half sobbed, and he was kissing her.
Hermione looked back on that evening for a long time. His velvety tongue parting her lips, and dancing and swirling with her own. His calloused hands coasting up her smooth postured back, lifting her top over her head, messing up her curly hair. His long fingers fiddling with the clip of her bra, obviously not used to the mechanism, and why would he be? Harry didn't wear a bra, or at least, not that she knew of.
Him thrusting into her on the floor of the common room by the dying fire. Her screaming when she came, coating him with milky juices and spurring on his orgasm. And after. Him sitting guiltily up as he looked towards the dormitory where Harry was sleeping.
And her trying to urge him into a last kiss, but him not responding, tears once again spilling out of his eyes.
Luckily Ron and Hermione put this incident behind them, and blamed it on intoxication and depression. The only reason they couldnt remember any alcohol being involved, was they were far too drunk to remember a petty detail like that.
Henceforth, Harry never found out about the incident, and, due to his fluxuating hormone levels (resulting from his being a teenager), he promptly forgave Ron at breakfast the next morning.
Furthermore, the weather began to cool down, and there were no more impromtu wet pants contests for the rest of the year, so Harry was never again subjected to that type of embarrasment again. (Because this happened to be the year Lord Voldemort finally killed him)
The end.