Harry and all his mind numbing musical adventures & co. all belong to J.K. Rowling, which I'd like to take the time to add, has a lot more money than me. Go ahead. Flame me. Flaaaaaame me! You know you want to. What were we smoking when we wrote this? Weed. Ya happy?

Harry Potter and the Department of Mysteries

By Kindra and Alea

Chapter 1

Harry was walking down a long corridor lined with torches, at the end of which was a black door. So tempting to open was this curious door. He extended his hand hopefully and twisted the knob.

The door opened with perfect ease, as if very recently greased and as the crack of open space widened, Harry's hand shot to protect his eyes from the sudden change of dark to instant light. Quickly, he stepped through the door, letting go of the knob and absentmindedly closing the door behind, gazing in a state of bizarre curiosity to what lie before him. Harry's mouth fell open is sheer shock.

The door, as it seemed, had lead him somewhere he'd quite easily never been before. It was huge and beautifully decorated, soft red curtains hanging from every wall, gold lining crossing every inch of where the walls connected to the ceilings and floors, and a sweet, incense smell turning the atmosphere heavy and relaxing. Huge Victorian windows cast bright beams of afternoon sunlight into the astounding room, even as layers and layers of lace fell in front of them and the rest of the walls. The room was also quite distinctively packed with furniture, large beautiful bookshelves with a huge oak studying table, and over to his left, an enormous four poster bed, decked with the red curtains along all sides, glistening crimson heavy blankets and maybe fifty or so pillows. There was soft and soothing music drifting throughout the room, delicate with a spicy flare, and as Harry recognized, in Spanish.

Instinctively, Harry murmured in a loud question, "What the fuck?"

Slowly he stepped farther into the large and fancy Hispanic style quarters, eyeing a rather large red matching armchair with the back to him. A twinge of fear shot through him slightly as his gaze fell fixed with the flipside of it.

A thick Mexican accent issued from the other side, "I was esspecting jyu, Mistah Pottah."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in deep, deep, confusion. "Huh?"

Slowly, the armchair began to swivel around and as it did, Harry did a double take, mouth dropping to the floor once again.

There sat a respectable and robe clad Spanish looking blonde gentleman, a long curling mustache circling up to his cheeks.

"I 'ave been waiting foh dis foh so long now..."

"MALFOY! What the FUCK are you doing down here!?" Harry spat, his eyes bugging out of his head at the sight of his long-term enemy sitting in front of him. "And what the HELL is with that mustache-thing??"

"Welcome" the blonde Mexican smiled. "... to da Department of Mysteries."

"SOME MYSTERY!!!" Harry screeched. "This is MY dream! Get out!!" He took a deep breath to stable himself. "What next, brains in fish tanks?!"

Evil Spanish Malfoy looked at him, innocently large eyed and pointed a finger in the opposite direction. "Si. Right ovah der."

Harry whipped around. "Oh dear god, no."

"So jyu see, Pottah, things ah not always what dey seem."

Harry turned back around, gaping at him. "What's that mean?"

Evil Spanish Malfoy looked down upon him, grinning wildly. "Jyu see da bed?" He motioned his blonde head to the 10 foot four poster across the room. "Dat's where I will make sweet, mad love to yoo."

Harry blinked and said nothing. Proceeding, an awkward silence ensued. Crickets chirped. "Listen José, I don't know what's going on here, but I'd like to leave."

"Oh, no, I do not think dat is how eet goes, Mistah Pottah." And at that, Evil Spanish Malfoy thrust his robe to the side, revealing a spiky stripper corset with sexy leg ties. He then pulled a long chain from which protruded a spiky dog collar with a little jingling tag that read:

Harry Potter

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it accusationally at Evil Spanish Malfoy the Dominatrix Fiend. "Get away from me before I....."

Suddenly, a familiar voice came echoing from the ceiling.

"GODAMN YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!" It was the authors. They were arguing over an ending.

"NO!!! I shall never fall victim to your satanic word play!"

"Hey—I just thought of an ending!!"

"WHAT!?!?"

"Here- let me write it."

Just then, as Harry was about to be attacked by a thing with a name to long for the Word dictionary to comprehend, Ron appeared in the room completely naked holding a blue and silver book.

"Page 242, paragraph 3, line 1," Ron ejaculated loudly. "DAMMIT."

Harry dropped his wand. "Ron...? Did you just...."

"What?" Ron ejaculated loudly.

"Shit, you just did it again." Harry yelled.

"I didn't mean to." Ron ejaculated loudly and apologetically.

"Ron, what the hell are you doing here without any clothes on?" Harry asked skeptically Ron looked down at his indecently exposed lower half.

"I dunno." Ron ejaculated loudly.

"You might just want to stop doing anything." Harry said.

"Good plan, mate." Ron ejaculated loudly."

"Jyu boyz are stealing all de hot hot action!"

A disgruntled Hermione walked into the room. "Sorry I was—what the—MALFOY!!?!!??! As a PREFECT you should know that that outfit is COMPLETELY----- RON!?!?!! WHAT THE--?"

"Sorry!" Ron ejaculated loudly, then clasped his hands over his crotch.

"Eeew, Ron!! You got it ALL over my robes!!" Harry held out his unclean Sleeve.

"Sorry again!" Ron ejaculated.

Hermione stared in disbelief. Ron stared back. They started having wild, mad sex right there on the floor.

"And NOW! HARRY POTTAH! EETS TIME JYU AND I SETTLED DIS!!"

Harry bent down, picked up his wand and thrust it at Malfoy. It hit him in the eye, and his head content burst onto the floor along with the many puddles of ejaculatory substance from Ron. Harry ran from the room, hearing the Evil Spanish Malfoy screaming, "AHH! MY MEHICAN FIGUURE!!!!!" THE END......?

Kindra: OO What the fuck have you done?

Alea: dies

Kindra: I take over from here, bitch. Damn, I'm not NEAR as creative when I'm coming down off a high... sighs heavily

Please sue me. Dear God, please do it. I hate this. No one should have to read it. I'm going to bed. And there will not be more. Uhn............... mumbles sorrowfully to self