[A/N: It's me again. Pfft…it's incredibly stupid, but you wanted it…So you got it. Here are the escapades of Harry, Xanne, and Play-doh. You think you know, but you have no idea.]

Play-Doh

"Are you sure he'll like it?" the ginger haired girl asked nervously. She fixed a red and gold bow atop the newly wrapped package before turning to her older brother.

"I'm positive he will. Harry's a muggleborn, well, sort of. Any muggle child would have loved this stuff as a kid, or at least according to Hermione." Her brother Ron assured her. "You're lucky I'm helping you with this, you know. He is my best mate and you're-," he gulped. "My sister, but if you really fancy him, who am I to stand in your way? And he'll love your present, because it's from you, and because it's the thought that counts."

"So we just leave it here," she wondered. It didn't seem right to just set the present on the boy's bed with no card or anything.

"Just trust me on this one, I know what I'm talking about," said the red haired boy who had never been romantically involved with another person…ever.

*****

The dorms were dark and barely lit when Harry returned to his soft scarlet bed later that night. He pulled back the thick curtains and laid down in the dark, exhausted from a grueling quidditch practice.

He shot straight up, startled, as he felt a rather large and hard lump beneath his back. Surely Crookshanks hadn't strayed to the boys dormitories again, Hermione would be furious.

Then he noticed the elegantly wrapped present sitting near to his pillow. He examined it and ran his finger along the smooth, almost cold wrapping paper. A smile played on his face as he realized who must've sent it. There was only one girl in this school to which he would want to receive a gift from, and it just so happened that it that day was their one month anniversary.

"Malloy," he muttered under his breath. She had insisted that he not buy her anything, and she, in turn, would not purchase anything for him. Apparently there were better ways to celebrate an anniversary than exchanging sappy little gifts, or according to her at least.

Happily, nonetheless, he tore off the paper and found himself face to face with two small yellow canisters. One was capped with green, the other with red. Odd little childish things, they were. He opened up one and sniffed the insides; the odor was just as strange as the packaging. The label said Play-Doh, but that was no indication of anything, he had no clue what it meant.

Harry was no idiot. Everyone knows that dough, or 'Doh,' as they put it, was for eating. It made delightful pies, pasta and bread. Obviously, this was the same sort of dough, though it looked oddly radioactive. Perhaps it was all the better.

Pausing to sniff it one more time, he pulled out the green pasty substance and rolled it around in his hands a bit. Feeling that the better present would be to sit there and play with the squelchy stuff, molding it and making squishy sculptures, he felt that he owed it to Xanne to enjoy her present.

Looking at the canister one more time, he took a large bite and swallowed it quickly, it tasted horrible. Feeling that this was her way of paying him back for asking her to try some of the haggis his friend Ron's relatives had sent from their vacation, he popped the rest of the green in his mouth and chewed a bit before sending it down with the rest.

"If that wasn't the most vile and disgusting- oofe!" he clutched at his stomach as a razor sharp pain stabbed through it.

"Oh bloody hell," he said, recalling a threat she had given him a week before and shuddering. "Don't tell me she poisoned it to give me menstrual cramps. I was only kidding when I told her to suck it up- oofe!"

The jolt of the next pain sent him reeling off of the bed and onto his back on the cold stone floor of the dormitory. The ceiling wavered in and out of focus and soon all was black.

*****

"What time is it?" Xanne asked the other Slytherin girls sitting around her. The Great Hall was packed at this hour. She could just make out Ron Weasley and a few of his Gryffindor friends at their table, but no Harry. This was a good sign.

"Seven thirty," said Akasha, taking a dainty sip of her pumpkin juice.

"So are you going to tell us?" Jeannie narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. At these words, all of the girls looked in Xanne's direction.

"Tell you what?"

"Why on earth have you been asking what the bloody time is for the past hour?" Malice said flatly.

"No reason," Xanne insisted. "Seven thirty you say? Blimey, must go…can't be late."

"Late for what?" Morrigun asked suspiciously.

Xanne ignored her proceeded to gather her things from the table and pack them into her bag. A blush appeared in her cheeks and she drained her goblet, then stood quickly and made as to leave.

"Huh-hem," Fallon cleared her throat rather loudly. Xanne spun on her heel and faced the other girl. "One month anniversary I presume?"

"I swear to god," Xanne said scowling. "You know me better than I do."

"Apparently so. But before you go, do take care," her voice raised slightly on the last three words and she held out her hand. She uncurled her palm and sitting in the middle of it was a vial of smoky gray liquid. The rest of the girls smirked, looks of comprehension dawned on their faces.

"You're a lifesaver," Xanne said breathlessly, pocketing the potion. "But more like life prevention if you think about it."

"True," Fallon nodded. "But I thought you were going to be late?"

"Damn!" she swore before sprinting out of the Hall and into the corridor.

*****

The hall outside the Gryffindor common room was deserted; giving Xanne the privacy needed to slip her cloak on. Right on cue, as if planned, the portrait hole opened and two students strolled out. Pausing for a moment to watch their retreating backs, she slipped in through the door and made her way to the staircase she had grown accustomed to climbing.

The halls were dark and warm, unlike the steady chill that blew through the dungeons of the Slytherin common room. The torches were not lit, and there were no students around. Once she came to the desired floor, she walked purposefully up to the door and took off the cloak.

"Well, how convenient, an empty dorm," she said quite loudly and innocently, throwing open the door and her eyes darted to the bed nearest to the window. The curtains were opened, but the one person she was looking. From the door she could just make out a hand from behind the bed, a hand that looked oddly limp and was lying still on the floor.

She ran around the bed and, as she feared, found 'The Boy Who Lived' sprawled out on the floor. A small yellow can was still the hand draped across his stomach. Hurrying down to her knees and taking the can, she gasped.

"Play-Doh!" bringing her hand up to her mouth, she broke off into melodramatic prose. "What poison is this, that with which a child might play? Hath my love chewed it all and left no morsel to help me after?"

She ran her fingers along the inside of the can, hoping to find some left, but sighed and brought her eyes to the wan face lying before her. She brought a finger to his lips and found that they were still warm. Her gaze then traveled to the crimson bedspread, upon which lay another yellow can.

With no delay, she reached out a hand and tore off the lid. Inside, there was a mold of red solid. She took it out and immediately devoured it, casting one last look down at the body before her.

"Oh happy dough, bring me to my love. Goodbye cruel world!" she then sat there, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly a sharp and stabbing pain rocketed through the pit of her stomach. She doubled up and gagged, before falling onto the chest of her love. Everything was black; the Gryffindor common room was no more.

*****

"It's okay, you can open your eyes now," came a soothing voice from the blinding light Harry was greeted with as he awoke.

"Is this heaven?" Harry looked around, still only able to see white.

"I definitely don't think I'd be here if it was," said a different voice on his left. And it was a very familiar voice at that. A voice he had heard yell at him, a voice he had heard sob, a voice he had heard poke fun at anything imaginable, and a voice that could be quite soothing at the right moment.

"I see you're both awake," said the voice that was still so far away.

"What happened?" Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing his stomach that still throbbed more than ever.

"This happened," said a slightly different voice, younger and amidst quite a few sniggers. Xanne was able to squint and find every one of her friends around the bed laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. One, she couldn't tell which, was holding up a bright yellow can. She knew they were her friends though, even with only partial vision she knew that nobody else in Hogwarts would dare wear such robes.

"Play-doh," she muttered.

"Play what?" Harry asked.

"Play-doh," said one of the girls. "You didn't even find out what it was before you ate it?"

"I ate it?" he demanded, sitting straight up and falling backwards at the head rush he received.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you ate it," said the other voice. Albus Dumbledore came into view, holding yet another empty canister out for all to see. "And so did Miss Malloy, apparently after she saw you passed out on the floor."

"Well…er, I-," Xanne stuttered, turning extremely red.

"Obviously," Dumbledore said, smiling benignly. "You two, like so many before you, have discovered the lure of Play-Doh."

*****

End

*****

[Done…Please REVIEW to enlighten me on the stupidity rating. Come on, one to ten, how stupid was it. Just kidding, but review anyway. It was fun to write, and I think I should write one about addiction. I won't get ahead of myself.]