Remember a few chapters back when I decided I wasn't going to write crack? I am a lying liar who lies.
Enjoy, maybe.
Ariaeris~
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not the characters, not the series, not even the drabble challenge. In the end, all I have is my thoughts and ideas and the ability to share them with you all.
Ps: OT3-ers, unite!
Plotting Bunnies
Drabble 14
Characters/Pairings: Harry (as always), Hedwig the Owl, Voldemort
Prompt: HP/HtO/LV
Word Count: 497
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For the most part, Harry was a pretty swell fellow. Sure, he could be a bitch sometimes, and some of his father's arrogance had been passed down (though tempered by some of Lily's better traits), and he had daddy-issues, a biting tongue, and people around him had a generally low life expectancy, but that didn't mean he wasn't a good person!
He did have one downside though; ask anyone (save Professor Snape, who had begun questioning the verisimilitude of this work as soon as it was said that Potter had one downside) and they would all be able to tell you that Harry had a bit of a temper. Just like Hitler was a bit of a bad man and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream is a bit tasty.
Still, people dealt with Harry's raging fits of depression and teenage hormones as they did with all the little teenage shits who think their the best damn thing this side of Merlin's left ass cheek; they grinned, hexed them inconspicuously, and settled down in an army bunker to wait out his required seven years of adolescent-asshole-ness.
Some people refused to give into Harry's inexorable Will of Torturous Angst and *Sob*© though, like Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape, both of whom dealt with the savior's immaturity by unceasingly trying to one-up him on the pettiness front, usually winning due to their greater experience.
Others, like Albus Dumbledore, just didn't give a shit, too stoned off the cocaine laced lemon drops that had become a hit in the London Wizarding underground. In all likelihood, this was probably the only correct way to deal with Harry and his WoTA*S*©.
It was one his seventeenth birthday that Harry's bitchiness came to its peak. Fleeing the Dursley's house for the umpteenth time, Harry's heart was broken by the death of his secret lover, Hedwig, thanks to a jealous Voldemort. Because only Voldemort would be so evil as to kill the one Harry loved most of all (and that had caused quite a stir at the Triwizard's second task).
Harry's wailing shriek caused twenty-six casualties that day, mostly from people falling off their brooms in shock, though the official cause of Alastor Moody's death was later proven to be cranial bleeding caused by a high pitched noise (no arrests were ever made). The brunet immediately knocked Fred off his broom (the fifteenth casualty, according to official crime scene documents written by Dobby) and chased after Voldemort.
The Dark Lord, overconfident as he was, took his merry time casting the goddamn killing curse that had never worked before on Harry. Harry, not so overconfident, but really freakin' pissed off, rammed his broom into Voldemort's face. Simultaneously, the Dark Lord was vanquished and Freud rolled erotically in his grave.
His task complete, his true love dead, Harry, the man with a bit of a bad temper, then went off to do something both stupid and inane, much like this drabble. Probably marry Ginny or something.
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