"Harry's is just so much nicer than yours, Ron."
Ron Weasley blinked, then lifted his head away from the stove where he'd been watching the pasta cook. His eyes traveled past the counter and to the kitchen's door, where Hermione, his dear wife, was standing tall and proud.
"Harry's what, exactly?" Ron asked, turning off the stove. He had a feeling his cooking wouldn't be very appreciated tonight.
"Don't play dumb with me, Ronald," Hermione snapped.
Ronald, huh? Must be one of those. As it was, Ron simply shrugged, feigning ignorance.
Hermione stomped her feet on the ground.
"His cock, Ronald! I can't believe you're this daft! Harry's cock is better! It's just the best cock in all the land! It's the cock all women have been dreaming about since the dawn of mankind!"
Ron crossed his arms and leaned back on the counter. "Imagine that."
"I don't have to because I've had it! Multiple times! I was blessed enough to lose my virginity to Harry's towering pillar of virility! That's right, Ron, you thought I was a virgin, but in truth, YOU and only YOU was a virgin for our first time! You, and your inferior penis!"
Ron had grabbed a cook book Fleur had gifted him for his birthday and was perusing its pages. The bœuf bourguignon looked really nice.
"Doesn't that make you jealous, Ron? Doesn't that make you insecure? Knowing that your minus phallus can't possibly compare when Harry Potter's cock swings about on this Earth? That every woman without exception dreams of welcoming Harry's meaty staff into their wet folds?"
"Every woman without exception? Have you asked Parvati? Last time I've heard, she was a lesbian," Ron said absently as he swapped his cook book for a nearby newspaper.
Hermione gave a great laugh. "You fool. Parvati has been straight ever since Harry plunged his big manly dick inside her. How could she not? It's the very epitome of masculinity. Its cum tastes like a slice of Heaven itself. There's only one thing women want in life and it's to be fucked by Harry Potter, to be blessed by his Chosen cock and become his Chosen sex slaves. There is no greater honor."
"Sounds great," Ron said as he found the Sports section. He groaned in dismay as he discovered that his beloved Cannons had failed him once again, so he put the newspaper aside and started to clean out the dishwasher.
Hermione was incensed. "Aren't you furious? Doesn't it make you miserable, knowing Harry's cock exists on this Earth and will continue to exist forevermore now that he is the Master of Death and so much more special than you ever could be? Doesn't it make your blood boil to know that Harry fucks me, and so much better than you do, every time you leave the flat?"
"Oh it does," Ron said as he stacked the plates in a pile. "I am engulfed in the jealous, insecure rage of a thousand burning suns. Pass me a rag, wouldn't you?"
Hermione glared at the poor rag on the counter as if it had personally insulted her. "Do it yourself, you misogynist pig! I am a free, independant woman! I don't have to suffer your abuse!"
"You don't mind being Harry's sex slave," Ron said as he retrieved the rag. He began to whistle as he dried the dishes.
"Well naturally," Hermione said, going from enraged to perfectly composed in a second. "Harry's cock is my sole purpose in life."
"Why didn't you marry him instead of me, then?" Ron asked as naturally as he would have asked about the weather.
"BECAUSE!" Hermione screeched. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must fulfill my destiny and become Harry's favourite sex toy. I'll never do anything but have sex with him, over and over, and tell him all about how virile and manly his cock is. Maybe, if you're lucky, he'll come kidnap you in the night so he can fuck me in front of you and you'll be able to witness his joy stick in action."
"Cool," Ron said. "I'll see you then."
"And don't even dream of one day being manly enough to match Harry's prowess. His is the cock that can pierce the Heavens and any condom you throw at it. HARRY'S COCK IS JUST THE BEST! YOU KNOW THIS IN YOUR HEARTS OF HEARTS! YOU CAN'T ESCAPE FROM THE TRUTH!"
Hermione slammed the door behind her.
Ron kept whistling.
Not a second later, Hermione had opened the door once more.
"A reader just commented, they want you to lose your job. So you're fired now, too."
"That's nice," said Ron.
"And this flat no longer belongs to you, either. Harry bought it for Wife #429."
"Isn't that illegal?"
"What is law to the Chosen One?" Hermione laughed. "I expect to see you homeless and begging in the street tonight at eight o'clock sharp."
"It's half past eight."
"What are you still doing here then!" Hermione roared. "Leave! This is my property!"
"So you're Wife #429? Here I thought you'd settle for no less than being Wife #1."
"The list is in alphabetical order," Hermione explained.
"Makes sense."
...
One ellipse later, Ron was at the Burrow, chilling in his violently orange bedroom, when his father came knocking on the door.
"Bad news, son," Arthur Weasley sighed. "Harry has bought our property and is going to raze it so he can build a manor for his harem. I tried to explain that The Burrow wasn't for sale, but the Ministry wouldn't hear it. We're being thrown out."
"That's a shame," Ron said.
...
Yet another ellipse later, the Weasleys were out in the streets, begging for their lives, and receiving nothing but contempt or the occasional look of pity. On the other side of the street, Harry was publically fucking Hermione as passerbys cheered and watched.
"YES HARRY! YES! LOOK, RON, LOOK UPON THAT COCK, AND DESPAIR! ISN'T IT THE FAIREST COCK IN ALL THE LAND? SAY IT! SAY IT, RON!"
"It really is the greatest cock I've seen in my life," a man wept with jealousy. "If only the Chosen One was gay."
"But if he was gay, how would women fulfill their sole purpose in life?" an old lady that had hit menopause long before Harry was born cried out.
A shudder went through the crowd at the unbearable thought of their savior not passing on his genetic material. Then it went away, because obviously they could see that the Chosen One was reproducing very well.
Harry and Hermione orgasmed with much screaming and everyone clapped. The jealous man from earlier burst into tears from all the beauty. The old lady began to throw flowers at the couple and soon everyone was mimicking her.
"I don't understand," Molly Weasley sobbed in her husband's shoulder. "Harry was such a nice boy, good-hearted and always ready to help those in need. Hermione was mindful and reasonable. What happened? Did I do something wrong, is this a rebellious phase of sorts? And why is everyone encouraging them, for God's sake!" she spat as a Ministry official muscled his way through the crowd to present Harry with a medal.
"Don't take it personally, Mum," Ron said as he scratched his week-old stubble. "It's just fanfiction."
"I know, dear," Molly sighed sadly, "but it still worries me. I know most fanfiction writers self-insert into Harry or Hermione and use them to live out their deepest fantasies. Since we represent the main family unit of the books, teenagers looking to emancipate from their own family tend to project their discontent on us, and our struggles with poverty lead to a fair amount of classism being thrown our way, while our faults are never forgotten the way Harry's and Hermione's are."
Arthur Weasley shrugged. "It's rather standard as far as fanfiction go. Harry is the center of the universe, everyone loves him and he is God's gift to women. Straightforward, some misogyny and entitlement, hopefully the boy will grow out of that."
"How do you know it's a boy?" Ron asked, amused.
"Come on, son, this reads like an insecure teenage boy trying to reassure himself about his masculinity. If the author isn't a boy, then at least the target audience are boys."
"I think it's more like satire," Ron mused. "This is meant to parody those stories in which Harry is some sort of sex god. Stories like these usually garner the attention of Weasley-bashers who seem to enjoy watching Harry get some as much as they enjoy watching me get portrayed as a massive loser who gets cheated on, turns alcoholic and stays miserable for the rest of his life."
"I don't understand how anyone could want to read such a story," Molly sniffed.
"All tastes are in nature," Arthur said magnanimously.
"Schadenfreude," Ron said. At the uncomprehensive stares he gathered from his family, he made himself clearer. "It's the word to describe the joy you feel at another person's misfortune. A lot of readers have decided that I wasn't a good enough friend to Harry and they want to punish me for it. Doesn't help that the Harry Potter movies really demeaned my character by making it look like the only things I was good for was eating food and making faces."
On the other side of the street, Harry, now with a shiny medal grafted to his bare chest, was again going at it with Hermione.
"AAAH, HARRY! WATCH AS I ORGASM SO MUCH BETTER THAN I EVER DID WITH YOU, RON!"
Ron snorted. "Yep, definitely satire."