The sixth day of term, at precisely twelve and a bit minutes past 10AM, a commotion took place. For you see, during the summer before the start of his fifth year, Lord Harry James Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Slytherin-Peverell-Le Fay, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm had received a letter from the wizarding bank of Gringotts, informing him that, as everyone in the Wizarding world knows, his fifteenth birthday had meant that the reading of his Wills was due.

During the reading of these Wills, a process which took several days and more than a few drinks of finely aged whisky, Harry Potter learned many things. He learned that he was the heir of several existing Houses and possibly a few non-existing ones too, and he learned that being heir of several Houses meant the ownership of a few million Galleons, several estates and summer homes, at least a dozen business firms and, of course, six legitimate and officially signed Marriage Contracts (one for each House, see—clever!).

These contracts meant that he was to marry the firstborn daughters of such prestigious Houses as Greengrass, Bones, Parkinson, Abbott, Lovegood, and the never-before-heard-of-but-still-quite-prestigious Davis. He had been confused at the time, noting the fact that at least two of the girls that this suggested he would marry were half-blooded, but he didn't worry about it too much.

He had spent the following days in Diagon Alley, marvelling at all the convenient things which nobody had beforehand told him to do or purchase, but which were up for public display. He did away with those horrible glasses, preferring instead to visit a magical ophthalmologist who provided him with perfect 20/20 vision free of charge—once he learned who his patient was. He also acquired a magically enlarged trunk, small on the outside but sizeable enough on the inside to contain three king-size bedrooms, a bathroom with functional piping, several compartments designed to store books, a Potions room, and a massage parlor complete with an animated wooden masseuse.

He also visited the magical apothecary, acquiring Potions which cured him of his malnutrition which the Hogwarts nurse had somehow failed to notice. It also increased his muscle mass and increased his height by a couple of inches. Afterwards, he began to exercise regularly, running for an hour every morning at the crack of dawn.

He also visited the finest tailors, acquiring himself a fabulous Acromantula silk robe, several dragonhide armor pieces, and a pair of designer shoes that made him look extra sharp. He also visited a wand shop—not that creepy bastard Ollivander—whereupon he acquired a secondary wand of baobab and Nundu mane, as well as a crafty wand holster which somehow allowed both wands to fit up his sleeve despite being a collective 24 inches long.

But by far the worst thing that happened during his stay at Diagon Alley was his discovery of the true nature of one Ronald Bilius Weasley. Having long believed him to be his best friend, he discovered that Ron was in fact a bad person. He thus waited for the right time, then finally made his move. A crowd quickly gathered around the raven-haired boy and his redhead 'friend' while the argument went down.

"Harry, what—"

"You can't lie your way out of this one," said Harry. His eye was twitching. "I know what you've done. I won't fall for any more of your fucking tricks!"

"But—"

"I won't fucking fall for it!" Harry hated people who talked back and interrupted too much. "Who gave you permission to say anything to me?"

"Ha—"

"Don't even speak, you sick fuck." Harry was beyond appalled that the Weasley was still trying to defend himself. "You disgust me. I bet you rape kids."

"I—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Harry then whipped out his 14 inch cock and started beating Ron upside the head with it. The crowd lifted the roof with a rip-roaring cheer at the sight, for the Wizarding world had different social rules than the Muggle world and this sort of behaviour was perfectly acceptable.

Standing in the front row, Blossom turned to her good friend and housemate Cedric to whisper something in his ear. "So Potter's got six girlfriends now?"

"Apparently so," Cedric whispered back. He held a look of jealousy on his face, though it was unclear for whom it was.

Turning back to Harry, standing there in the middle of the ring with his cock primed over Ron's bloodied body, Blossom shrugged. "Well, at least I'll have a bit of competition."