Snow White...Yaoi Harry Potter Style
By Lorelel
Disclaimer: in the far unforeseeable future...I own Harry Potter and the rest of the characters in
the book. Sadly I don't now...so I am forced to put this disclaimer up.
Harry Potter is copyrighted and owned by J.K Rowling. And no, she's not sharing.
"..." dialogue
*...* thoughts
(...) My notes ::sarcastic snorting::
Warnings: YAOI, implications of sex. And that's it. And oh yeah! If you like girly Harry's, go
away. He's lean mean, and a jackass.
Long, long ago. In a time period most people would call hell. Because there was no
electricity, people didn't bathe regularly, and the words "Check out my fake teeth made from cows
and sheep!" or "Awww! There goes all my teeth! Rotted right out!" Were spoken more than,
"Mom? Where's the hog hair tooth brush? I need to shove it in and swirl a couple of times. I
can't pick out the week old food stuck between my molars. It's bloody annoying." Thankfully, the
bishounen of this story...and the other bishounen have been taught to keep themselves, and their
teeth, clean.
Really, you should be thankful.
No I mean it
They could've been dirty people with lice in the hair and ticks on their butts. Would you like to
hear about them having sex?
I didn't think so. Now on with the story.
A woman with dark red hair sat under a tree. Lorelel doesn't know what kind of tree because
she forgot, but she knows it's a tree. She loved sitting under this tree because it bore her favorite
kind of fruit. It was sweet, and soft, and whenever she bit into it, its juices would flow down her
throat in thick rivulets and dry on her fingers, leaving a lovely sticky mess she loved to lap up.
Now isn't this starting to sound like porn? She also liked the tree itself. Unlike the bishounen of
this story this woman didn't bathe as much, and this resulted in her becoming awfully itchy during
the summer. She had made it a habit to sit with her back to the tree, so she could rub up against
to relieve any itches on her back. It was crude and unlady like to scratch for a woman of her title
to scratch her back. Usually she'd have a back scratchier, but she had watched herself scratch
her back in a mirror with it, and found that she looked comical and undignified when she did that.
So she decided to look not only stately, but also beautiful and poetic under a tree.
It was a sweltering Indian summer in autumn, and the woman absolutely adored the tree. She
rubbed up against the tree and sighed as she scratched her itch. She watched as chips of the
bark fell from the tree and landed in a 'clack' on the hard ground. She froze and picked up a
piece of chipped bark. It was darker than night, darker than the 5 day old mold on forgotten
bread. (sorry, I can't be serious for so long XD) It reminded her of her husband James' hair. The
dark color, more elegant than black, (aka another name for black) ebony. She smiled as she
thought of having a child with hair as black as ebony...just like James. She ran to her husband to
tell him of her revelation.
" Ah, Lily! I can explain!" (giggle) She frowned at the mess. Lily was a neat freak, and
she hated it when her husband left his desk unorganized. She looked up into her husbands
brown eyes, and remembered what she came here for. She smiled as she embraced her
husband.
"Oh James," she whispered into his ears, "I want a child with ebony hair like you..."
James smiled wide.
"A child? Really? You're ready to be a parent?" Lily nodded sincerely. James smile
turned naughty.
"Well, than lets get a head start on this!" Much sex ensues, and Harry's origins are
discovered.
/////////////////////////////////////////
It was a sweltering summer, and all was quiet. The breeze idly drifted through an open
window. Suddenly, crying breaks the haze of boredom. Let's peek through the open window.
Little boys and girls, cover your eyes! Ladies, let's go.
Inside, we see a tired and bedraggled Lily holding a bloody mass of skin with chubby fingers
and a...a tentacle sticking out of its stomach! It's a monster! Lily! Save yourself! The monster
coos and Lily laughs and kisses it's blood matted forehead. A nurse takes the thing and dunks it
in water. It cries out...and opens its eyes, to reveal glimmering green orbs. Oh, it's no monster,
it's just Harry. Haha you silly people, jumping to conclusions like that!
Fast-forward 18 years.
ZZZZIP! (oo look at the pretty lights)
"BOY! GET UP! SWEEP THE FLOORS! LICK DUDLEY'S BOOTS!" Harry snorted and
rolled over.
"NOW!" Harry's attempt at falling back asleep was dashed as his Aunt Petunia hammered on
his door. Harry kicked off his blankets and sighed. He just loved waking up to his aunt's
screeching voice everyday. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slipped on his clothes. His
vision was blurry and he stumbled as he made his way to his small bathroom. He grabbed his
wire-framed glasses and put them on. He looked at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his
teeth. He was handsome, and he knew it. He had ebony black hair, and bright emerald green
eyes. All the lady servants, and some of the men, swooned at the sight of him. Yes, everyone
loved his beauty, but some people just didn't appreciate him enough, namely his relatives.
"Ohr rook, ah's 'arry." Dudley spat out about half of a mouthful of half chewed food as he
spoke. Harry winced at his cousin's unsuccessful attempt at saying, "oh look, it's Harry". The pig
had no manners. His aunt squinted her beady eyes at him and turned her nose up. She signaled
at a servant named Natalie
"Give Harry the usual." Natalie gave him an apologetic look and handed him a bowl of grits.
Harry swore he had malnutrition. Sure he was very well developed, (cough cough snort snort)
but his skin was unusually white. He thought it looked feminine. A servant told him once that it
made him look dead sexy. Harry had felt a little better, he was pretty tall and there was no way
you could mistake him for a girl. But then again the servant was a guy, and he wasn't sure if that
comforted him as much as if a girl had told him the same. Well, it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy the
compliment, because he was gay. (Yaoi people! Yaoi!) He just didn't want to look like a girl, it
would hurt his manly pride.
He blanched as he took a taste of his grits. No matter how many times he ate grits, he would
never get used to its bland taste. (weird) His Aunt Petunia was a very observant person. Her
eyes were always roaming around the room, looking for anything she could spy on. Her long
neck helped too, it craned over shoulders, fences, and anything else obstructing her view from
some secret she wasn't supposed to know. She saw Harry shrink away from his grits and spit
half of onto a napkin. She fixed him with a glare.
"We give you a home after your parents got eaten by flying monkeys, and this is how you
repay us?" Harry had always doubted the reason for his parent's death. Harry knew he wasn't
the sharpest knife on the rack, but he wasn't THAT dull. He sat and ate his grits as his aunt
berated him as she screeched. Finally, Aunt Petunia ended her scolding with a last screech and
sat huffing in her seat. She fixed him with a hard stare. This was the sign to get out of her sight
and to do his chores. Dudley smiled cheekily and skipped over to the pot of grits on top of the
Dutch stove. Harry wondered if he had some sneaky plan, but then laughed at himself for doing
so. Dudley couldn't be smart enough. Dudley picked up the black pot and pretended to trip over
a nonexistent rock. (in the kitchen?) The pot landed with a big "gong" sound, though Dudley's
resounding fart of fear made over powered it. The contents of the pot splashed out and
splattered all over the kitchen. A small wave of grits splashed over Harry's shoes. Covering it in
a gritty brown mess.
"I was trying to help, but look at what I did!" There was a loud 'thunk' sound as Dudley's
massive 300 pound body hit the ground. Dudley pulled his pudgy arms to his eyes and started to
rub them as he cried. Harry knew he was faking. Dudley was making soft "ooooh ooh" sounds.
When Dudley was really crying, he would make loud "WAAAH WAAH!" sounds and thrash his fat
limbs around.. Aunt Petunia rushed over to Dudley, careful not to splash the grits on her shoes
and dress.
"Oh Dudley! I know you were trying to be helpful, oh my poor baby! There there, you were
only trying to help, but you don't need to help next time." She cradled Dudley in her arms as she
tried to console him. Harry mentally laughed as Aunt Petunia's hands were sucked under a layer
of fat. Dudley was just that fat.
"No need to do any of that torturous labor!" She stared pointedly at Harry and Dudley grinned
and stuck his tongue out at him. "That's what servants are for."
He sighed; he knew he would be the one to clean up the mess. He worried about how he was
going to clean the whole kitchen, and still finish his other chores in time.
But poor Harry, he was worrying about the wrong thing.
Off in a cave, far far away, there stood an old man staring into a mirror.
:"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who has the most beautiful green eyes of all?" He rasped out.
The mirror flinched from the man's sheer ugliness. The man's only good point was his forest
green eyes. The only thing that kept him from voicing this opinion was the fact that the man was
dangerous, and was his master.
"Off in a castle far away, a boy named Harry Potter has the most beautiful green eyes of all."
The man's eyes widened in fury.
"What! I killed the last with the beautiful green eyes genes, myself, 17 years ago!" (making
Harry 18) I even killed her husband! The last Potter! How is this possible?" The man faced
away from the mirror and sat down on the grimy floor.
"I guess they had a kid?" The mirror asked hopefully. The man turned at the mirror, nostrils
flaring. The mirror prayed to the good mirror god up above for mercy.
"That's it!" The man started to pace the length of the cave. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
The mirror sighed in relief.
"I'll just kill this one too! HAHA!" He raised one gnarly finger and grinned, showing yellow
teeth and holes were teeth were supposed to be, but had evidently rotted out. He hunched over
and rubbed his hands together.
"And I have just the plan."
Evil laughter rang through the cave, and bats ran into each other in their haste to vacate the
site of a mad scientist in the making.
"I am the the only one handsome enough to have the most beautiful green eyes!" The
mirror resisted the urge to snort. The man took out a vial of amethyst liquid from the hem of his
robes. (like pulling a rabbit from a hat!)
"I may be ugly now, but I was quite the looker when I was younger." The mirror seriously
doubted it. The man tapped the vial a couple of times and shook it up. He pulled off the cork and
took a long draft of the purple potion. The mirror gasped as the man's teeth grew back. He had
never seen his master with a full set of teeth! He then looked at his master. His man was no
longer an old fogey, but a young man!
"See, I didn't lie about that did I?" And he hadn't. The mirror shook his head.
"I was Voldemort before, but now you see before you Wormtail (the mirror), me."
Wormtail shivered as a creepy smile graced his master's face. His master leaned forward and
narrowed his eyes.
"I will kill Harry Potter." He hissed.
"I should be have the most beautiful green eyes, for I am Tom Riddle!"
//////////////////////
oooooh! oooh! XD This took me forever to write, and as usual, it's not betaed. I think I've
gotten over some of my writer's block :
R&R!
Oh and give me tips, I know I suck.
By Lorelel
Disclaimer: in the far unforeseeable future...I own Harry Potter and the rest of the characters in
the book. Sadly I don't now...so I am forced to put this disclaimer up.
Harry Potter is copyrighted and owned by J.K Rowling. And no, she's not sharing.
"..." dialogue
*...* thoughts
(...) My notes ::sarcastic snorting::
Warnings: YAOI, implications of sex. And that's it. And oh yeah! If you like girly Harry's, go
away. He's lean mean, and a jackass.
Long, long ago. In a time period most people would call hell. Because there was no
electricity, people didn't bathe regularly, and the words "Check out my fake teeth made from cows
and sheep!" or "Awww! There goes all my teeth! Rotted right out!" Were spoken more than,
"Mom? Where's the hog hair tooth brush? I need to shove it in and swirl a couple of times. I
can't pick out the week old food stuck between my molars. It's bloody annoying." Thankfully, the
bishounen of this story...and the other bishounen have been taught to keep themselves, and their
teeth, clean.
Really, you should be thankful.
No I mean it
They could've been dirty people with lice in the hair and ticks on their butts. Would you like to
hear about them having sex?
I didn't think so. Now on with the story.
A woman with dark red hair sat under a tree. Lorelel doesn't know what kind of tree because
she forgot, but she knows it's a tree. She loved sitting under this tree because it bore her favorite
kind of fruit. It was sweet, and soft, and whenever she bit into it, its juices would flow down her
throat in thick rivulets and dry on her fingers, leaving a lovely sticky mess she loved to lap up.
Now isn't this starting to sound like porn? She also liked the tree itself. Unlike the bishounen of
this story this woman didn't bathe as much, and this resulted in her becoming awfully itchy during
the summer. She had made it a habit to sit with her back to the tree, so she could rub up against
to relieve any itches on her back. It was crude and unlady like to scratch for a woman of her title
to scratch her back. Usually she'd have a back scratchier, but she had watched herself scratch
her back in a mirror with it, and found that she looked comical and undignified when she did that.
So she decided to look not only stately, but also beautiful and poetic under a tree.
It was a sweltering Indian summer in autumn, and the woman absolutely adored the tree. She
rubbed up against the tree and sighed as she scratched her itch. She watched as chips of the
bark fell from the tree and landed in a 'clack' on the hard ground. She froze and picked up a
piece of chipped bark. It was darker than night, darker than the 5 day old mold on forgotten
bread. (sorry, I can't be serious for so long XD) It reminded her of her husband James' hair. The
dark color, more elegant than black, (aka another name for black) ebony. She smiled as she
thought of having a child with hair as black as ebony...just like James. She ran to her husband to
tell him of her revelation.
" Ah, Lily! I can explain!" (giggle) She frowned at the mess. Lily was a neat freak, and
she hated it when her husband left his desk unorganized. She looked up into her husbands
brown eyes, and remembered what she came here for. She smiled as she embraced her
husband.
"Oh James," she whispered into his ears, "I want a child with ebony hair like you..."
James smiled wide.
"A child? Really? You're ready to be a parent?" Lily nodded sincerely. James smile
turned naughty.
"Well, than lets get a head start on this!" Much sex ensues, and Harry's origins are
discovered.
/////////////////////////////////////////
It was a sweltering summer, and all was quiet. The breeze idly drifted through an open
window. Suddenly, crying breaks the haze of boredom. Let's peek through the open window.
Little boys and girls, cover your eyes! Ladies, let's go.
Inside, we see a tired and bedraggled Lily holding a bloody mass of skin with chubby fingers
and a...a tentacle sticking out of its stomach! It's a monster! Lily! Save yourself! The monster
coos and Lily laughs and kisses it's blood matted forehead. A nurse takes the thing and dunks it
in water. It cries out...and opens its eyes, to reveal glimmering green orbs. Oh, it's no monster,
it's just Harry. Haha you silly people, jumping to conclusions like that!
Fast-forward 18 years.
ZZZZIP! (oo look at the pretty lights)
"BOY! GET UP! SWEEP THE FLOORS! LICK DUDLEY'S BOOTS!" Harry snorted and
rolled over.
"NOW!" Harry's attempt at falling back asleep was dashed as his Aunt Petunia hammered on
his door. Harry kicked off his blankets and sighed. He just loved waking up to his aunt's
screeching voice everyday. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slipped on his clothes. His
vision was blurry and he stumbled as he made his way to his small bathroom. He grabbed his
wire-framed glasses and put them on. He looked at his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his
teeth. He was handsome, and he knew it. He had ebony black hair, and bright emerald green
eyes. All the lady servants, and some of the men, swooned at the sight of him. Yes, everyone
loved his beauty, but some people just didn't appreciate him enough, namely his relatives.
"Ohr rook, ah's 'arry." Dudley spat out about half of a mouthful of half chewed food as he
spoke. Harry winced at his cousin's unsuccessful attempt at saying, "oh look, it's Harry". The pig
had no manners. His aunt squinted her beady eyes at him and turned her nose up. She signaled
at a servant named Natalie
"Give Harry the usual." Natalie gave him an apologetic look and handed him a bowl of grits.
Harry swore he had malnutrition. Sure he was very well developed, (cough cough snort snort)
but his skin was unusually white. He thought it looked feminine. A servant told him once that it
made him look dead sexy. Harry had felt a little better, he was pretty tall and there was no way
you could mistake him for a girl. But then again the servant was a guy, and he wasn't sure if that
comforted him as much as if a girl had told him the same. Well, it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy the
compliment, because he was gay. (Yaoi people! Yaoi!) He just didn't want to look like a girl, it
would hurt his manly pride.
He blanched as he took a taste of his grits. No matter how many times he ate grits, he would
never get used to its bland taste. (weird) His Aunt Petunia was a very observant person. Her
eyes were always roaming around the room, looking for anything she could spy on. Her long
neck helped too, it craned over shoulders, fences, and anything else obstructing her view from
some secret she wasn't supposed to know. She saw Harry shrink away from his grits and spit
half of onto a napkin. She fixed him with a glare.
"We give you a home after your parents got eaten by flying monkeys, and this is how you
repay us?" Harry had always doubted the reason for his parent's death. Harry knew he wasn't
the sharpest knife on the rack, but he wasn't THAT dull. He sat and ate his grits as his aunt
berated him as she screeched. Finally, Aunt Petunia ended her scolding with a last screech and
sat huffing in her seat. She fixed him with a hard stare. This was the sign to get out of her sight
and to do his chores. Dudley smiled cheekily and skipped over to the pot of grits on top of the
Dutch stove. Harry wondered if he had some sneaky plan, but then laughed at himself for doing
so. Dudley couldn't be smart enough. Dudley picked up the black pot and pretended to trip over
a nonexistent rock. (in the kitchen?) The pot landed with a big "gong" sound, though Dudley's
resounding fart of fear made over powered it. The contents of the pot splashed out and
splattered all over the kitchen. A small wave of grits splashed over Harry's shoes. Covering it in
a gritty brown mess.
"I was trying to help, but look at what I did!" There was a loud 'thunk' sound as Dudley's
massive 300 pound body hit the ground. Dudley pulled his pudgy arms to his eyes and started to
rub them as he cried. Harry knew he was faking. Dudley was making soft "ooooh ooh" sounds.
When Dudley was really crying, he would make loud "WAAAH WAAH!" sounds and thrash his fat
limbs around.. Aunt Petunia rushed over to Dudley, careful not to splash the grits on her shoes
and dress.
"Oh Dudley! I know you were trying to be helpful, oh my poor baby! There there, you were
only trying to help, but you don't need to help next time." She cradled Dudley in her arms as she
tried to console him. Harry mentally laughed as Aunt Petunia's hands were sucked under a layer
of fat. Dudley was just that fat.
"No need to do any of that torturous labor!" She stared pointedly at Harry and Dudley grinned
and stuck his tongue out at him. "That's what servants are for."
He sighed; he knew he would be the one to clean up the mess. He worried about how he was
going to clean the whole kitchen, and still finish his other chores in time.
But poor Harry, he was worrying about the wrong thing.
Off in a cave, far far away, there stood an old man staring into a mirror.
:"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who has the most beautiful green eyes of all?" He rasped out.
The mirror flinched from the man's sheer ugliness. The man's only good point was his forest
green eyes. The only thing that kept him from voicing this opinion was the fact that the man was
dangerous, and was his master.
"Off in a castle far away, a boy named Harry Potter has the most beautiful green eyes of all."
The man's eyes widened in fury.
"What! I killed the last with the beautiful green eyes genes, myself, 17 years ago!" (making
Harry 18) I even killed her husband! The last Potter! How is this possible?" The man faced
away from the mirror and sat down on the grimy floor.
"I guess they had a kid?" The mirror asked hopefully. The man turned at the mirror, nostrils
flaring. The mirror prayed to the good mirror god up above for mercy.
"That's it!" The man started to pace the length of the cave. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
The mirror sighed in relief.
"I'll just kill this one too! HAHA!" He raised one gnarly finger and grinned, showing yellow
teeth and holes were teeth were supposed to be, but had evidently rotted out. He hunched over
and rubbed his hands together.
"And I have just the plan."
Evil laughter rang through the cave, and bats ran into each other in their haste to vacate the
site of a mad scientist in the making.
"I am the the only one handsome enough to have the most beautiful green eyes!" The
mirror resisted the urge to snort. The man took out a vial of amethyst liquid from the hem of his
robes. (like pulling a rabbit from a hat!)
"I may be ugly now, but I was quite the looker when I was younger." The mirror seriously
doubted it. The man tapped the vial a couple of times and shook it up. He pulled off the cork and
took a long draft of the purple potion. The mirror gasped as the man's teeth grew back. He had
never seen his master with a full set of teeth! He then looked at his master. His man was no
longer an old fogey, but a young man!
"See, I didn't lie about that did I?" And he hadn't. The mirror shook his head.
"I was Voldemort before, but now you see before you Wormtail (the mirror), me."
Wormtail shivered as a creepy smile graced his master's face. His master leaned forward and
narrowed his eyes.
"I will kill Harry Potter." He hissed.
"I should be have the most beautiful green eyes, for I am Tom Riddle!"
//////////////////////
oooooh! oooh! XD This took me forever to write, and as usual, it's not betaed. I think I've
gotten over some of my writer's block :
R&R!
Oh and give me tips, I know I suck.