"Sometimes, Remus, you make me feel so lonely. In fact, when I look at you, it's like I just wanna weep for ever and ever."
"...I think you have the wrong number."
"Oh, sorry. Is Remus there?"
"...YOU HAVE THE WRONG NUMBER!"
click
"...Poop..."
---
After Dumbledore had finished making several phone calls to very important people, he ate his Phoenix and walked around outside for a bit. A cup of staples in one hand and a billiard in the other (I have no idea what a billiard is, really), he walked to Hagrid's house to say hello.
"Hagrid? Are you in?" he called.
A female's voice answered. "I'm busy with him. Please return later!"
"But...I..."
"I SAID PLEASE RETURN LATER, AAAAHHH!"
"Double-ewe tee eff? Let me in!" Dumbledore cried, kicking open the door with his billiard. Then he saw a sight that would forever blind him- or blind him for a second or something. Whatever.
Trelawney was on top of Hagrid, busily braiding his beard while she tried to lick her nose.
Suddenly, the phoenix in Dumbledore was reborn and made him implode so he had to go to the hopsitclal.
Yeah, that.
---
Harry opened his eyes slowly, his fourth day in the hopsitclal wing dragging by as he slipped in and out of awake-edness. "Where is he?" he asked Madame Pomphrey who was making the bed next to him.
"Who, dear?"
"Voldemort," he answered, one of his black eyes aching terribly at the mere sound of the name.
"Dumbledore is going to have a stern talk with him when he's better, I assure you. Don't try to take matters into your own hands, Harry."
Harry growled and barked at her until
she went away.
Hermione and Ron had gotten an A on the essay, or
however they grade those things in Hogwarts. Either way, it was a
good grade, so they decided to celebrate.
Hermione gathered as much rotten ham as she could possibly find, as it was lurking in every corner, and Ron brought gallons of milk. Then, they crept into Filch's office and nailed the rotten ham to the door and walls and filled every one of his cabinets with milk. Then, they taped pictures of him naked to all of the stalls in all the boys bathrooms, and went back to their commonroom, giggling insanely.
The next day, when Filch found all of this, he broke out in a rash and had to be rushed to the hopsitclal with Dumbledore.
It was there they met.
Billiard.
I...I know this
sounds crazy..." He heard himself whisper, running a hand across
the other's chest. "Go on," he heard the other wizard
whisper back, placing a few gentle kisses on his shoulder, making
shivers run down his spine. "I... I think I love you." "Oh,
Voldemort..." the other responded, cupping one pale cheek in his
worn hand. "Tom..." "My love.. my Argus..."
Voldemort sat up in his bed abruptly,his entire body covered in sweat. "I'm in love with FILCH?"
Suddenly he was attacked by Harry who beat him with a trashbag full of house elves.
---
Ginny Weasly was petting Crookshanks with a keyboard in the GCR when Hermione walked in, looking pouty.
"Are you alright, Hermy-lermy?" Ginny asked in her most seductive voice.
"Oh Ginny, I just can't stop thinking about how much I love Ron," the curly-haired girl answered, her voice as sultry as a black push-up bra's would be if bras had voices.
"Oh, but Hermione, I've fallen in love with you!" Ginny cried, writhing on the floor while Crookshanks ran as fast as he could away from the madness.
"Oh, GINNY! I just realized- I'm a lesbian! Let's do it!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs.
Moments later, Hermione and Ginny could be found knitting hats and socks.
"This is so great," Ginny whispered.
---
Dumbledore married Filch in Saint Mungo's two days after they met, and went back to Hogwarts for their honeymoon. Voldemort was absolutely distraught, and so, he wrote an emo poem:
My heart is dead
Though it
beats,
When it's not raining
it just sleets.
My love is
gone
I am torn,
I bleed black blood
I always mourn.
I
want to die
but I have 7 lives,
I want 1 husband
more than
20 wives.
-I love you, Filchy-
Voldemort, being proud of his creation, taped it to a tree. Dumbledore, on one of his frequent strolls around a tree, saw it, gasped, and ate it. He then divorced Filch because he didn't want another man wanting his man.
---
Dobby giggled to himself as he poured more peculiar chemicals into the giant vat of pumpkin juice. Winky giggled, too, when she poured gallons of vodka into the pumpkin juice as well.
Dun dun dunnnn.
Hermione walked down the hallway, screeching loudly, seven large books in her hands.
"Is there a dying animal on the loose?" came a voice behind her, and she whirled around, gasping loudly.
"Professor Dumbledore!" she cried after several minutes.
"Yes, it is I!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, one hour later. "How are you, Miss Granger?"
"Actually, I'm having some trouble carrying these large books around," she answered, frowning at the stack of books in her arms. The top one was titled 'The Little Mermaid'.
"Allow me to help you," he answered, laying on the floor and wiggling over.
"Professor Dumbledore, I cannot keep it in any longer! You're smart, I'm smart... we simply must be lovers!" Hermione screamed, leaping on him. They writhed around on the floor, making weird noises.
Suddenly, Ginny came around the corner. "OMGZ WTF H3RM10N3 WTH Y R U WIT DUMBL3D0R3!" she cried, slapping herself with a fish.
"Because I think you're a poop so go poop on your butt!" Hermione replied.
Then all three of them calmly went to lunch.
------
Lunch at Hogwarts was just as chaotic as any other day. Even the enchanted ceiling was affected- instead of showing the weather, it was now depicting Fred and George doing the cabbage patch continuously.
"Harry!" cried Draco as Potter entered the Great Hall for the first time in weeks. Harry was clad in a dress made entirely out of staples that Ron had constructed for him, making him shiny.
"Draco!" Harry gasped as they ran toward each other, arms open. "My sweet blond avocado! My hair obsessed dumpling! My beautiful spatula!"
Draco's eyes welled up with tears at the lovely endearments until the two boys finally collided and he was stabbed by millions of staples.
"I love you so much that I can almost not feel the pain," Draco whimpered.
Severus Snape looked on this display of love with revulsion. Harry was his and the dumb blond stole him away!
'I shalln't have such things here!' he thought. 'I am a teacher! I have authority! I must take back the man I love!'
As he stood to put an end to their love affair, the Great Hall doors were flung open (which is truly an achievement, as they are quite huge) and slammed against the walls, squishing the unfortunate few who were standing near them.
Everyone in the Hall simultaniously gasped (even those who hadn't seen yet) as Nifflers poured into the hall with machine guns.
There was a moment of silence from everyone as the little creatures got in position, surrounding students and teachers alike. Suddenly, breaking the silence, Dolores Umbridge ran into the Hall and cried, "A twist in the plot!" and broke in half.
Before the people of Hogwarts could comprehend this, the Nifflers opened fire and people began falling left and right as blood and bullets flew.
After the students realized that it was probably a bad idea to just stand there, the manslaughter quickly turned into an all-out war. The wizards and witches of the school pulled out wands and cursed the psychopath little nifflers. But of course, Hogwarts is crazy, so here and there people would pull out a sword and charge or suddenly burst into flame and run around the ranks of the nifflers, setting them aflame as well.
Laying on the floor, bleeding from several wounds in his bullet-filled pancreas, was Snape. His dark eyes were slowly glossing over, his pale face looking sickly.
Harry Potter, turning off his Spontaneous Combustion powers for the moment, ran to him and knelt down.
"Severus!" he squealed.
"Harry... Harry... I must tell... I... must..." Snape whispered, hardly able to get the words out.
"Yes?" asked Harry softly, leaning closer.
"I... I always loved you..." The older man's eyes went blank then, his body going limp.
Harry, realizing in one swift moment that he'd always loved Snape too, cried out in agony, "WHHHYYYY?"
A niffler noticed this and turned around, shooting the crap out of the Boy Who Lived.
Harry clutched his heart, tears of ultimate emo-ness streaming down his face, and fell over his true love, their blood mingling on the floor.
He'd died of a broken heart. The bullet wounds were in his waist.
------
The battle raged on furiously, the little nifflers slowly gaining ground on the insane students.
"We can't win!" cried Neville, who was in the corner weeping.
"Their machine guns are just too much for us!" yelled a random Hufflepuff, because all Hufflepuffs are random except for Cedric.
"Gurgly poop poop!" screeched Hermione.
Then, amid the violent chaos, strode the lovliest girl in all the land. Her long, sparkly raven hair whipped out behind her as she came into the Great Hall, her big blue eyes all mysterious and whatnot. She was clad in a short school-girl skirt and a tight white top, with long black billowing robes.
Even the nifflers stopped to stare, and she said in her soft, sweet little voice, "My name is Crystal Serenity Sapphire Daniella Summer Kitsune-chan, and I'm an American exchange student, here to save the day."
She had no wand, but because she was perfect, she merely held out her hand and snapped her fingers, and suddenly all the nifflers where on the top of some remote mountain in China.
The students stared, eyes wide, at this 'American Exchange Student.'
"Hermione!" she cried suddenly, her perfect voice carrying perfectly to the curly-haired Gryffindor. Hermione cautiously walked over, wand out just in case.
"Hermione, I am going to give you a totally like amazingly awesome make over, and then you are going to snag all the hotties, kay?" Crystal-chan said, flicking her hair out of her flawless face.
"Really? That's so kind of you!" Hermione said, grinning at the prospect of 'snagging the hotties'.
Crystal giggled cutely, and then broke in half, revealing a small and extremely ugly house elf. Suddenly, everyone who was dead was alive again, but foaming at the mouth.
Well, it wasn't very different from the norm, but whatever.
Disappointed, the other Hogwartians groaned, but Hermione leaned down, a maternal smile on her face. "It's okay. You can work here, you know, you don't have to pretend--" she was cut off as the house elf jumped up and latched itself onto the top of her head with it's mouth. Hermione stood up, utterly perplexed, and then shrugged.
New hats are always fun.
--------
Soon after the war, Hogwarts celebrated a double marriage- Dumbledore and Hermione, and Filch and Voldemort. There were 100 huge cakes along with other sweets, and all the students were invited. The only payment to get in was one barrel of pumpkin juice, made special by Dobby and Winky.
"It's quite a shame that the little thing had to attach itself to Granger," said Dobby, sipping on his tea as he regarded the peculiar-looking house elf still stuck on the top of Hermione's head.
"Yes, yes, quite. It would have been ever so fun to take the mickey out of it in the kitchens, you know," Winky answered as she added some cream to her coffee.
"YOU TOUS WANTZ T3H PUNKIN JOOSES?" screeched Ginny as she wobbled passed them, thoroughly drunk. Not only had she downed an entire barrel of pumpkin juice, but in her depression at her girlfriend getting married, she added alcohol to it.
Bad, bad idea.
The two house elves chuckled to themselves and walked away to survey the rest of the increasingly insane guests.
Suddenly, Ron flew up into the air on Harry's broom and cried, "I caught the bouquet!" He branished some cat treats in the air as proof, and everyone clapped.
"So I gets to choose who Imma marryin', then?" he asked, and everyone nodded, shouted or wiggled in agreement.
He closed his eyes and pointed outward, twirled around on the broom, and then stopped abruptly and opened his eyes to see who he landed on.
He was pointing at Ginny.
And so, with his sister too smashed to know what was going on and the rest of Hogwarts too stupid to know anything at all, Ron was married to his sister immediately.
Then he fell off the broomstick and broke a million bones.
It was Hermione and Dumbledore's wedding night, and they were sitting on the Astronomy Tower, sharing a delicious hunk of cheese.
"It's like, soooo pretty up here, you know?" Hermione said, curling up to her new hubby.
Every night in my dreams
I see you, I feel
you,
That is how I know you go on
"Lolz, yeah," he answered quietly, looking around at all the students who were currently making out around them. This was a popular spot for that.
Far across the distance
And spaces between us
You
have come to show you go on
"So... what d'you want to do, Dumbly?" she asked, cramming a piece of cheese the size of her hand into her mouth.
Near, far, wherever you are
I
believe that the heart does go on
Once more you open the door
And
you're here in my heart
And my heart will go on and
on
Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully, "Well, I kind of want to find out where that Celine Dion music is coming from."
I'm setting the mood
So shut up and kiss
her
you old poop
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for no reason and he nodded sagely. "Of course, of course." He looked at Hermione who was staring at him confused because she couldn't hear any Celine Dion music, and said, "So... do you want to make out, or something?"
You aren't supposed to ask
You
idiot
Didn't Minerva teach you anything?
"Oh, right, of course," Dumbledore said, and leaned down to romantically kiss his new bride when someone suddenly burst through the door to the tower.
Love can touch us one time
And last for a
lifetime
And never let go till we're one
"Hermione!" Snape cried, his wand out. "Don't!"
Love was when I
loved you
One true time I hold to
In my life we'll always go
on
"Snape, wtf, n00b? The floaty Celine Dion song voice told me to kiss her and you're like messing it up!" Dumbledore said angrily.
"Yeah, and I thought you were in love with Harry," Hermione said, pouting. "Especially since he died from a broken heart and your blood mingled like all those emo songs say."
Near,
far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once
more you open the door
And you're here in my heart
And my heart
will go on and on
"So what?" Snape said. "I burst through the door so I might as well finish what I came here to do."
"What were you going to do?" Hermione asked.
There
is some love that will not go away
You're here, there's nothing I
fear,
And I know that my heart will go on
We'll stay forever
this way
Snape pointed his wand at Dumbledore and cried, "LOL!" A jet of green light shot from his wand and hit Dumbledore who flew over the side of the tower and plummeted through the night air.
"NOOOO!" Hermione cried, standing up. "WTF, Snape! Why'd you have to cast LOL on him!"
You are safe in my
heart
And my heart will go on and on
"Sorry about that, Granger, but it had to be done. See you in class tomorrow," he answered, and walked away.
Well, this sucks
Sorry,
kid
"Frick," Hermione said sadly, and ate her cheese whilst sobbing.
---
Voldemort and Filch, on the other hand, were having a great time. They were curled up in bed, limbs entwined after a long night of gardening.
"Did you really want me more than 20 wives?" Filch asked him after Voldemort recited his awesome Emo Poem to him.
"If they were like, really ugly, then yeah," Voldemort said, playing with his love's hair.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Filch asked, annoyance showing in his voice.
"Absolutely nothing," the Dark Lord answered hurriedly.
"Oh, okay."
Then suddenly, Snape burst into the room. "Filch! Don't believe him!" he cried.
"Snape, WTF n00b?" Voldemort said angrily.
"Wait, are you guys naked?" Snape asked, branishing his wand.
"Um... yeah," Filch said. "We've been gardening all night long, you dolt."
Snape paused for several seconds, unable to stop the mental images. "Oh, dear sweet Merlin, KILL ME! KILL ME PLEASE! HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL!"
Voldemort rolled his snake-like eyes and pointed his wand at the poor teacher, yelling, "LOL!"
With his last gasping breath, Snape whispered, "Thank you..."
Voldemort leaned over his husband, looking at the body. "Well, this sucks. What're we gonna do now?"
"Wanna garden some more?" Filch suggested, smirking.
"With a dead Snape in our room?" Voldemort asked, raising his almost invisible eyebrows.
"Why not?" Filch asked, winking.
"Oh, you're so naughty!" Voldemort cried with glee. "I call the tulips!"
Dumbledore stood before the students in the Great Hall, all of them silent and serious.
"Cho Chang," he said, voice echoing throughout the large room. The young lady stood and walked to the front of the room, head bowed. Never had she been so solemn. She stopped right in front of Dumbledore, cheeks pink from all the attention: the entire school was watching her.
Slowly, Dumbledore held out his wand to her and tapped both of her shoulders. "I dub thee... a giraffe. Named Gary."
Cho grinned and turned around, facing her peers. "HAY GUYZ I'M GARY!" The school stood up and applauded her and made loud dolphin noises.
After that invigorating lunch, the students proceeded to lick their tree trunks.
----
BILLIARD!
----
Harry Potter walked into Transfiguration one evening, frowning slightly.
"What's wrong, Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, nibbling on her desk absentmindedly.
"Well, me and Ron are having some problems," he confessed. "The other day I wouldn't give him a brownie and so he set me on fire. I told him he was being a bit unreasonable and he took off his shirt, wrote 'I QUIT' on it and set that on fire too. I just don't understand him, Professor."
Minerva nodded slowly. "I see, I see... Maybe the answer here is to explode violently for no reason, killing millions in your path of destruction."
Harry rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "This is very consoling, Professor McGonagall. Thank you."
As Harry said 'thank you', McGonagall twitched and quickly made a cup of tea. Once it was done she poured it on herself, singing:
"Yankee Doodle went to Canada
Riding on a pi-rate
He stuck a beaver in his boob
And called it moose poop, EH!"
----
SNAPE!
---
"How's the gardening going, my sweet?" Voldemort asked, smiling at his husband. Filch, on a ten minute lunch break, returned the smile.
"Crap, as usual. How's the gardening going, my lovely?"
Voldemort looked down at his plants, frowning a little. "No matter how hard I try, Filchy, ever since Potter exploded my garden I just can't get my pansies growing."
"Stupid Potter," muttered Filch.
"Yeah, I know. We should plot a terrible and utterly fatal revenge to teach him a lesson," said Voldemort.
However, before they could even begin this mischievous plotting, Wormtail popped up from the ground randomly, soaking wet for no reason.
"Voldemort, thank the stars!" he cried, clapping his hands together. "I've been waiting for this moment my whole life!"
Voldemort glared furiously at his annoyingly loyal subject. "You idiot, look what you've done! Now there's a huge hole in my garden that probably leads to Argentina or Mars or something! WTF is your problem!"
Filch raised an eyebrow, one hand on his hip. "Who's this ho?" he demanded.
"Ho!" yelled Wormtail. "Oh no you didn't, biatch!"
Voldemort stared. "No, wait, Filchy, don't listen to him. He's an old ex, you know how it is."
"Old ex!" cried Wormtail. "Boiii, I bathed you with a sponge when you ain't had no arms, so don't TELL ME!"
Filch stepped in between them, snapping his fingers, "Tell him? Oh, I'll tell you somethin': YOU AIN'T IN THE PIKCHA, so you best step off, cracka!"
"SLUT, YOU CRAAAAZEEEE!"
Filch paused, and looked back at Voldemort who nodded slowly. Then he turned back to Wormtail. "Craazzzeee?" he said soberly. "THIS-- IS-- HOGWAAAARTS!" and he booted Wormtail back through his hole to Mars.
---
"Hermione," said Luna, "may I stroke your mustache?"
"Baaa," Hermione replied.
It was an exceptionally warm day in the middle of August, about 700 or so degrees. The flowers were blooming and the trees were singing and the birds were swaying with the wind, all parties particularly full of joy this day.
Snape galloped idly amongst the vampires, verbing on some noun he'd acquired earlier that day. "I do love my broccoli, lol," he said earnestly.
-----
"Dumbledore," Lucius said quietly. "I can't seem to find my son. Is he off with his stupid lover again?"
"Hmmm," said Dumbledore in a low voice. "I think Harry is actually with Snape or Ron or McGonagall or something. I can hardly keep up with all the kids' drama nowadays. But no, I don't know where your lad is."
Lucius sighed darkly, running a worn but sexy hand through his flaxen hair. "I see," he murmured almost inaudibly. "I need him for an important anti-muggle ritual but I just can't find him. It's most annoying, I must say."
"Why not take me in his stead?" Dumbledore asked softly.
Lucius' eyes widened slightly. "You would torture muggles? Why, my good man, I never thought I'd see the day."
Dumbledore chuckled under his breath. "Now, now, don't get your panties in a knot. I just meant I'd dress up like Draco and pretend to be your son for a smidgen. That way your reputation won't be hurt. I never said I would partake in your events."
"Very well," Lucius said tacitly, rather pleased. "Thank you for taking my reputation into consideration, Albus... I never knew you cared so much."
Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling like stars and stuff, and he took Lucius' hand. "Of course I care... I..."
"Albus," Lucius whispered, squeezing the older man's hand slightly, his breath catching in his throat. "I-- I always---"
"No!" Dumbledore exclaimed, suddenly stern. "I have a wife. Don't say it, you'll only make it harder for us to keep our feelings under wraps. Let's just go to the muggle thing and forget this ever happened."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Feelings? What are you talking about? I was just going to say I always wanted a lemon drop."
Dumbledore gaped a moment, and then leapt across the room like a wild weasel-giraffe and dive tackled his extensive stock of lemon drops. "You'll never get my lemon drops, you narkle-flapping elephant!"
Lucius stared and then walked away forever.
-----
Remus Lupin yawned after a long day of werewolfing and pooping and set down his machine gun to do a bit of light reading.
"Lol," Tonks said happily, rolling around on the floor.
"Shut up," he replied in a compunctious tone.
Then she died!
-----
Harry laid back on his bed, soft green eyes clouded with troubling thoughts.
What if I am truly the lesbian love child of Dolores Umbridge and Hermione Granger? he thought, a slight frown on his handsome face. What would that mean to the wizards of this society? What would this mean for my relationship with Hermione?
As his hand ruffled his own hair, the tip of one finger drifted across his scar. What would he be like if Voldemort had never been born?
Well, he probably would have a girlfriend, and like a hundred more friends by now. And Ron would be another one of the losers he would never talk to because Ron is basically a useless frat boy. And Hermione?
Harry lol'd at Hermione.
"Well," Harry said to himself, "I guess I know what I have to do now."
As he got up to leave the dormitory, Seamus stopped him. "Er, Harry? Where you just talking to yourself?"
Harry glared at him, "Shut up, you feckless ingrate. And if I ever hear your Bulgarian accent again I'll poop on my head."
"I'm definitely Irish, you puerile pooping prostitute, not Bulgarian," Seamus said with a great sense of brume, and stalked off.
Harry grinned evilly.
-----
There was a room in Hogwarts that had never once been entered save by Godric Gryffindor. It never existed in Hogwart legends, it was never stumbled upon by innocent passersby, and so it was never searched for. Even the other founders of Hogwarts were unwitting of it's creation or existance, a fact that Godric was rather proud of.
It had a cathedral-like ceiling, high and magnificent, the stone it was made out of looking absolutely brilliant in the morning sun that came in through the heavily dusted windows. Shelves lined the walls, mostly holding books that were sometimes thousands of years old with pages that were miraculously well-preserved but might have crumbled under a rough hand, some of which holding secrets about Hogwarts and it's creation that were perhaps better left unknown. The shelves that did not hold books possessed frames that were so covered in dust the pictures were no longer visible and old odds and ends that might as well have been important to someone but seemed utterly useless now.
In the middle of this room was an old, incredibly intricate rug, deep red and gold for the most part, with two ancient couches sitting on it and facing one another. Once upon a time they might have been incredibly comfortable and it looked like they'd been well used by their previous owner, but now their wood was frail and their cotton was worn.
Dust idly spiralled in the sweet, kind light that sunk into the room as it had always done, dancing in a way that was random and routine all at once.
Suddenly, and explosion ripped through it, utterly destroying the beauty that hadn't been treasured in over a millennium.
Harry Potter had taken McGonagall's advice and exploded violently, taking millions of lives in his path of destruction, all the while crying, "SAUCY ATMOSPHERES MAKE AWFULLY NUMBING TURKEY HATS AAAAAHHHH!"
Then everyone died FOREVER! And it was a genocide that would last in the memories of all for OVER NINE THOOOUUUSAAAAAAAND YEARS!