Title:
Author: Ivory Tower
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.
"And I am pleased to announce," said Dumbledore, "that the return of Professor Lupin shall be celebrated with a talent show."
The Great Hall went wild with applause.
"Really Headmaster, you shouldn't have. I am very grateful."
"Not at all, my dear Remus. After all, what are the chances of your missing another important dose Wolfsbane potion and putting the children in danger? Even so, all present would rather be torn to shreds by a werewolf than endure an entire schoolyear with some half Veela bimbo spouting out bits of useless poetry while attempting to convince us of her unsurpassable Auroring skills."
"Yes," said McGonagall. "Everyone loves you, Lupin. That's why, despite the parents' and the Ministry's objections, we brought you back."
"Great! Now, about those new robes-"
"Nonsense! Your threadbare robes are all part of your charm. When they fall off, we have a new set of rags waiting for you. And no hair dye either. Those gray streaks add to your vulnerable appearance."
"If you're sure, Headmaster. Merlin, I'm such a pushover. Neville has more gumption than I do. Why, hello, Severus. I just noticed you shooting daggers at me with your mysterious black eyes."
"I hate you."
"I feel your anguish, Severus. Well, I'm off to bed. Hopefully, I won't collapse on the way. Good night, children."
"Good night, Professor Lupin," chorused the students, then dug into their dinner.
"Oh golly gee whiz wow, a talent show! Are you going to enter, Hermione?"
"Of course not, Ron. I'm too smart for such nonsense. Oh, by the way, did you know I'm a great singer?"
"And I'm practicing to be one of the next Solid Gold Dancers," exclaimed Ginny.
"What about you, Ron? What can you do besides fart the National Anthem backwards," inquired Harry, salting his roasted potatoes.
"Well, I have this really kickass Goth alter ego named Torvald, who plays a wicked electric violin."
"Wow! I think I'll display my cup stacking abilities."
"Harry...you suck."
"Just kidding! I can sing just like Justin Timberlake."
"Oooooh," breathed Ginny. "I'm not supposed to know when he is, but I do! Maybe I can dance while you sing. We'll be a great act, Harry!"
"Too cool! We're so Americanized it's sickening."
"What about costumes? You must have brought some snazzy, sequined leather and high heeled boots for an occassion such as this."
"Good thinking, Seamus. I just can't wait to thrust my overly-developed physical attributes at my fellow schoolmates. Dumbledore's really become lenient in his old age."
Two tables over, the Slytherins were busy planning their reinactment of Moulin Rouge.
"Great idea, Draco," trilled Pansy. "Despite all our tough anti-Muggle campaigning, we know an original idea when we hear it."
"Naturally, no one would ever think of this in a thousand years. So, who's going to sing 'Lady Marmalade'?"
"Uh, me?"
"No, Crabbe, you'll just stand in the background the entire time."
"Uh, okay, Draco."
"Wow, Draco, Crabbe has more air time than Hufflepuff'll get," said Millicent Bulstrode.
"I know. Oh, and Millicent, be sure to put a bag over your head before taking the stage, and pull that corset extra tight so those fantabulous breasts look ready to burst."
"I wonder if we should ask Cho Chang to be in our little production. She has the looks for it," stated the ever androdynous Blaise Zabini.
"Fuck no! She'll probably do some artistic nude posing, Ravenclaw that she is, but we've got her beat because we'll have choreography." Draco hastily scrawled more stage directions across a piece of parchment. "Blaise, I think you should wear your hair in a mullet so people won't fret over your sex too much."
"Righto, Draco!"
"Is Snape going to be in this?"
"No, Dumbledore will undoubtedly force him to don feminine attire and sing some stupid shit like 'Barbie Girl' or some equally bubblegummy girl song," grumbled Draco.
"If we must have comic relief, why not have Longbottom moon McGonagall?"
"That's just strange."
"Well, it's at least original."
Later that night...
Professor Severus Snape was pacing his bedroom floor. Because of all this excitement, he was having an acute attack of insomnia. Then again, Snape hasn't slept properly since 1982. Those dunderheads thought he was going to wear pink and stumble his way through Christina Aquilera. Hah! Wait till they got a look at the *real* Severus Snape. He'd put off his complete makeover for far too long... A knock on the door distracts Snape's supermodel ambitions.
"Who is it?"
"Wolfie."
"Lupin! I told you to never use my cutesy pet name for you again! Our blasphemous love affair was twenty-two years ago. Get over it."
"Aw come on, Blackie! Must. Resist. Naive. Innocent. Charm. Of. Wolfie-I mean Lupin! Go away!"
"I brought the leash."
"Damn you," whispered Snape dramatically swept across the room to unbolt the door.
Lupin smiled warmly at the greasy Potions Professor. Oh, the Gryffindor bastard! He was wearing that oversized white T-shirt-the one with the slits in all the right places. At any rate, Snape looked equally seductive in his floor length black satin dressing gown and black stiletto heels. Isn't crossdressing Snape a classic?
"I suppose it is entirely by chance that you are dressed this way, Severus?"
Snape actually smiled. "Come in and I'll tell you all about my plan," he purred, pulling Remus into the *real* Chamber of Secrets.
The very next day, Dumbledore was having a rather heated argument with Lucius Malfoy.
"You may not enter the talent show, Lucius. You are not employed under Hogwarts."
"I was a student here! I demand that you make an allowance!"
"If I do so, then I will be forced to admit any talentless hack who stumbles into my office. Can you not see where this may lead? Cornelius Fudge could take the stage! The children must be protected."
Lucius got one of those infamous snooty looks.
"I suppose that is why Remus Lupin is once again on your payroll list?"
"Actually, the return of Lupin is part of my master plan to make Severus discover his sensitive side and come to terms with his dark and unhappy childhood. Besides, Remus is much cheaper than a psychiatrist."
"And how does having a talent show work into this?"
"Oh that." Dumbledore waved the idea aside. "I thought the children would have a good time getting in touch with their sexuality. Hormones must continue to rage at Hogwarts. You know the prophecy, Lucius."
The blond solemnly nodded. "If hormones stop raging at Hogwarts, the school will fail and all fanfiction surrounding the Harry Potter characters will cease."
"And that must never happen, Lucius. Where would we be without all those steamy little stories void of all plot and sensibility?"
"Well then, you must let me participate in the talent show. It is vital to the stability of the school."
"Sorry, but there's not enough room for you in the plot, Lucius. You may sit in the audience and leer at Dobby, which will more than help."
Lucius angrily shook his sexy cane at the Headmaster.
"This is nothing more than a cheap editing trick to allow more time for Snape's big makeover!"
"Well surely you knew, Lucius-Severus only makes himself ugly to keep the little schoolgirls at bay. Did you know that he can also do the splits?"
"Doesn't this conflict with his relationship with Lupin? Severus is always the ugly misunderstood ass that Lupin alone can love because he is such a kindly, selfless soul."
"Does it matter? Snape turns out to be a real hottie. Anyway, it is time for the show to begin."
"Laaaadies and Gentlemen," announced Gilderoy Lockhart, king of hosting all events great and small. "Put your hands together for the tightest asses and grooviest, swashbuckling hip shaking to be witnessed since my movie debut in 'Loveslaves of Azkaban'! First on the floor tonight is...Neville Longbottom? What the bloody hell is this shit? Longbottom never gets an stagetime. Oh well, here he is." Lockhart exits, muttering.
Neville takes the stage with his only true friend, his pet frog, Trevor. Neville stumbles on his way to the microphone. The audience snickers.
"I-I-"
"Great act, Longbottom," shouts a sneering voice.
Neville resolves to be brave. "I don't have any talent. I just wanted to show you all something."
Neville waves his wand at Trevor. Trevor is no more. Instead, there is standing a tall voluptous blonde with breasts like watermelons.
"Well why do you think I was so obsessed with Trevor? I get more ass than any of you! I'm pimpdaddy Longbottom. Hear me roar! Come on, Trevor, let's go smack that tight ass of yours."
"Yes, Daddy Warbucks," squeaks Trevor, obediently following Neville off the stage.
The audience sits agape with shock. Eventually, Lockhart returns.
"Merlin's chastity belt that's just wrong. And now, give a warm round of applause for Miss Hermione Granger, who originally wasn't going to enter even though she can sing like Shirly Mason. Be sure to pay special attention to Miss Granger's MTV slutwear."
Hermione forcefully takes the stage in a black leather dominatrix outfit. The boys howl with lust. The girls glare with jealousy. Dumbledore shudders with excitement.
"I am a jolly bad elf," he whispers, eyeing the whip in Hermione's left hand.
After her seven and a half minute song about sex, Hermione leaves and goes straight to the library to study for her Arithmancy test.
When the audience has more or less calmed down, Ron Weasly, a.k.a Torvald, with spiked hair, combat boots, and black lipstick, proceeds to do a wicked number on his electric violin, pausing every so often to shriek "death" any number of ways until he exhausts the thesaurus of synonyms.
Next up is Slytherin Rouge, with Draco himself singing "Lady Marmalade" in a hip leather outfit. Pansy tries her hardest not to sneeze what with her feather boa, feather hair ornament, feather peacock tail, feather earrings-aw hell, she looks like a turkey slut. Besides, there's not enough baritone in the chorus. The whole thing sounds like chipmunks on crack. However, because this is fan fiction, they reinact the entire production with flying colors, and plenty of "Oh, be naughty! Be naughty!" cried throughout.
"And now for Harry Timberlake and his bitch-I mean, dancer, Ginny Weasley!"
Que strobe lights and a fast, funky beat. Harry sings a moving love song while Ginny, in a psychadelic cage, does a thousand different versions of the pelvic thrust. We have yet to see one female performer who wants to be respected for her intellect though appearently none of them have any. As we all know, it is every female student's ambition to be a sexual object for boys to toy with and discard like used Kleenex. But the best is yet to come!
Lockhart douses himself with ice cold water and loosens his collar.
"Finally, Professor Snape singing 'What a Girl Wants' while wearing a cute Little Bo Peep outfit. Oh, this humor will be the death of me!"
Abruptly, Duran Duran's "Girls on Film" starts to play and the stage transforms into a catwalk. Out struts Professor Snape in tight black pants, black leather boots and a black shirt unbuttoned all the way down, exposing his pale, suddenly overly toned chest and impossibly perfect sixpack. His once sallow skin is now porcelain white, his greasy hair is suddenly six inches longer and gleaming rainbow highlights as the spotlight reflects its lustrous sheen. The crowd sways.
Not only does Snape look ten years younger, his prominent hooked nose is now merely aqualine, his crooked teeth straight and a gleaming pearly white. The crowd oooh's and ah's as Snape takes off his leather trenchcoat and lovingly drapes it behind one shoulder. More erotic than "Deep Throat"! More intense than "Behind the Green Door"! You will cream your pants when you behold the true identity of Severus Snape! Move over Antonio Banderas and Richard Grieco. Snape's looks put Johnny Depp in a pirate costume to shame.
Whoa there! Snape *is* wearing a pirate costume! Oooooh that ruffled shirt! Those devilishly ugly turned handsome features! Lupin is one luck son of a bitch, for Snape has given his heart to the dirt poor lycanthrope forevermore. Those long trim legs glide with such masculine feline grace! Flitwick is now foaming at the mouth and gurglin oddly in his throat. There is little more than a puddle where McGonagall once sat. Lucius is so aroused he jumps and makes out with the nearest person, who just happens to be his son's Spontaneous Sex-Changing Inflatable Doll, one of the Lockhart edition.
Headmaster Dumbledore proudly looks on as the success of his talent show turns all of Hogwarts into a massive looks-oriented, orgiastic machine of bump and grind. Best of all, Snape will no longer suffer from mignight despairs over his traumatic childhood. Lupin has been reunited with his eternal soulmate. Could it possibly get any better? Oh yes, for Lupin is pregnant with Severus Snape's child. Oh, the joys and trials of male pregnancy. Not to worry, Lupin can always go to Harry, who's had plenty of experience with wizard pregnancy.
Roll credits! *We exit the Great Hall as Draco's version of "Lady Marmalade" blasts into our eardrums.
~FIN~
Author: Ivory Tower
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.
"And I am pleased to announce," said Dumbledore, "that the return of Professor Lupin shall be celebrated with a talent show."
The Great Hall went wild with applause.
"Really Headmaster, you shouldn't have. I am very grateful."
"Not at all, my dear Remus. After all, what are the chances of your missing another important dose Wolfsbane potion and putting the children in danger? Even so, all present would rather be torn to shreds by a werewolf than endure an entire schoolyear with some half Veela bimbo spouting out bits of useless poetry while attempting to convince us of her unsurpassable Auroring skills."
"Yes," said McGonagall. "Everyone loves you, Lupin. That's why, despite the parents' and the Ministry's objections, we brought you back."
"Great! Now, about those new robes-"
"Nonsense! Your threadbare robes are all part of your charm. When they fall off, we have a new set of rags waiting for you. And no hair dye either. Those gray streaks add to your vulnerable appearance."
"If you're sure, Headmaster. Merlin, I'm such a pushover. Neville has more gumption than I do. Why, hello, Severus. I just noticed you shooting daggers at me with your mysterious black eyes."
"I hate you."
"I feel your anguish, Severus. Well, I'm off to bed. Hopefully, I won't collapse on the way. Good night, children."
"Good night, Professor Lupin," chorused the students, then dug into their dinner.
"Oh golly gee whiz wow, a talent show! Are you going to enter, Hermione?"
"Of course not, Ron. I'm too smart for such nonsense. Oh, by the way, did you know I'm a great singer?"
"And I'm practicing to be one of the next Solid Gold Dancers," exclaimed Ginny.
"What about you, Ron? What can you do besides fart the National Anthem backwards," inquired Harry, salting his roasted potatoes.
"Well, I have this really kickass Goth alter ego named Torvald, who plays a wicked electric violin."
"Wow! I think I'll display my cup stacking abilities."
"Harry...you suck."
"Just kidding! I can sing just like Justin Timberlake."
"Oooooh," breathed Ginny. "I'm not supposed to know when he is, but I do! Maybe I can dance while you sing. We'll be a great act, Harry!"
"Too cool! We're so Americanized it's sickening."
"What about costumes? You must have brought some snazzy, sequined leather and high heeled boots for an occassion such as this."
"Good thinking, Seamus. I just can't wait to thrust my overly-developed physical attributes at my fellow schoolmates. Dumbledore's really become lenient in his old age."
Two tables over, the Slytherins were busy planning their reinactment of Moulin Rouge.
"Great idea, Draco," trilled Pansy. "Despite all our tough anti-Muggle campaigning, we know an original idea when we hear it."
"Naturally, no one would ever think of this in a thousand years. So, who's going to sing 'Lady Marmalade'?"
"Uh, me?"
"No, Crabbe, you'll just stand in the background the entire time."
"Uh, okay, Draco."
"Wow, Draco, Crabbe has more air time than Hufflepuff'll get," said Millicent Bulstrode.
"I know. Oh, and Millicent, be sure to put a bag over your head before taking the stage, and pull that corset extra tight so those fantabulous breasts look ready to burst."
"I wonder if we should ask Cho Chang to be in our little production. She has the looks for it," stated the ever androdynous Blaise Zabini.
"Fuck no! She'll probably do some artistic nude posing, Ravenclaw that she is, but we've got her beat because we'll have choreography." Draco hastily scrawled more stage directions across a piece of parchment. "Blaise, I think you should wear your hair in a mullet so people won't fret over your sex too much."
"Righto, Draco!"
"Is Snape going to be in this?"
"No, Dumbledore will undoubtedly force him to don feminine attire and sing some stupid shit like 'Barbie Girl' or some equally bubblegummy girl song," grumbled Draco.
"If we must have comic relief, why not have Longbottom moon McGonagall?"
"That's just strange."
"Well, it's at least original."
Later that night...
Professor Severus Snape was pacing his bedroom floor. Because of all this excitement, he was having an acute attack of insomnia. Then again, Snape hasn't slept properly since 1982. Those dunderheads thought he was going to wear pink and stumble his way through Christina Aquilera. Hah! Wait till they got a look at the *real* Severus Snape. He'd put off his complete makeover for far too long... A knock on the door distracts Snape's supermodel ambitions.
"Who is it?"
"Wolfie."
"Lupin! I told you to never use my cutesy pet name for you again! Our blasphemous love affair was twenty-two years ago. Get over it."
"Aw come on, Blackie! Must. Resist. Naive. Innocent. Charm. Of. Wolfie-I mean Lupin! Go away!"
"I brought the leash."
"Damn you," whispered Snape dramatically swept across the room to unbolt the door.
Lupin smiled warmly at the greasy Potions Professor. Oh, the Gryffindor bastard! He was wearing that oversized white T-shirt-the one with the slits in all the right places. At any rate, Snape looked equally seductive in his floor length black satin dressing gown and black stiletto heels. Isn't crossdressing Snape a classic?
"I suppose it is entirely by chance that you are dressed this way, Severus?"
Snape actually smiled. "Come in and I'll tell you all about my plan," he purred, pulling Remus into the *real* Chamber of Secrets.
The very next day, Dumbledore was having a rather heated argument with Lucius Malfoy.
"You may not enter the talent show, Lucius. You are not employed under Hogwarts."
"I was a student here! I demand that you make an allowance!"
"If I do so, then I will be forced to admit any talentless hack who stumbles into my office. Can you not see where this may lead? Cornelius Fudge could take the stage! The children must be protected."
Lucius got one of those infamous snooty looks.
"I suppose that is why Remus Lupin is once again on your payroll list?"
"Actually, the return of Lupin is part of my master plan to make Severus discover his sensitive side and come to terms with his dark and unhappy childhood. Besides, Remus is much cheaper than a psychiatrist."
"And how does having a talent show work into this?"
"Oh that." Dumbledore waved the idea aside. "I thought the children would have a good time getting in touch with their sexuality. Hormones must continue to rage at Hogwarts. You know the prophecy, Lucius."
The blond solemnly nodded. "If hormones stop raging at Hogwarts, the school will fail and all fanfiction surrounding the Harry Potter characters will cease."
"And that must never happen, Lucius. Where would we be without all those steamy little stories void of all plot and sensibility?"
"Well then, you must let me participate in the talent show. It is vital to the stability of the school."
"Sorry, but there's not enough room for you in the plot, Lucius. You may sit in the audience and leer at Dobby, which will more than help."
Lucius angrily shook his sexy cane at the Headmaster.
"This is nothing more than a cheap editing trick to allow more time for Snape's big makeover!"
"Well surely you knew, Lucius-Severus only makes himself ugly to keep the little schoolgirls at bay. Did you know that he can also do the splits?"
"Doesn't this conflict with his relationship with Lupin? Severus is always the ugly misunderstood ass that Lupin alone can love because he is such a kindly, selfless soul."
"Does it matter? Snape turns out to be a real hottie. Anyway, it is time for the show to begin."
"Laaaadies and Gentlemen," announced Gilderoy Lockhart, king of hosting all events great and small. "Put your hands together for the tightest asses and grooviest, swashbuckling hip shaking to be witnessed since my movie debut in 'Loveslaves of Azkaban'! First on the floor tonight is...Neville Longbottom? What the bloody hell is this shit? Longbottom never gets an stagetime. Oh well, here he is." Lockhart exits, muttering.
Neville takes the stage with his only true friend, his pet frog, Trevor. Neville stumbles on his way to the microphone. The audience snickers.
"I-I-"
"Great act, Longbottom," shouts a sneering voice.
Neville resolves to be brave. "I don't have any talent. I just wanted to show you all something."
Neville waves his wand at Trevor. Trevor is no more. Instead, there is standing a tall voluptous blonde with breasts like watermelons.
"Well why do you think I was so obsessed with Trevor? I get more ass than any of you! I'm pimpdaddy Longbottom. Hear me roar! Come on, Trevor, let's go smack that tight ass of yours."
"Yes, Daddy Warbucks," squeaks Trevor, obediently following Neville off the stage.
The audience sits agape with shock. Eventually, Lockhart returns.
"Merlin's chastity belt that's just wrong. And now, give a warm round of applause for Miss Hermione Granger, who originally wasn't going to enter even though she can sing like Shirly Mason. Be sure to pay special attention to Miss Granger's MTV slutwear."
Hermione forcefully takes the stage in a black leather dominatrix outfit. The boys howl with lust. The girls glare with jealousy. Dumbledore shudders with excitement.
"I am a jolly bad elf," he whispers, eyeing the whip in Hermione's left hand.
After her seven and a half minute song about sex, Hermione leaves and goes straight to the library to study for her Arithmancy test.
When the audience has more or less calmed down, Ron Weasly, a.k.a Torvald, with spiked hair, combat boots, and black lipstick, proceeds to do a wicked number on his electric violin, pausing every so often to shriek "death" any number of ways until he exhausts the thesaurus of synonyms.
Next up is Slytherin Rouge, with Draco himself singing "Lady Marmalade" in a hip leather outfit. Pansy tries her hardest not to sneeze what with her feather boa, feather hair ornament, feather peacock tail, feather earrings-aw hell, she looks like a turkey slut. Besides, there's not enough baritone in the chorus. The whole thing sounds like chipmunks on crack. However, because this is fan fiction, they reinact the entire production with flying colors, and plenty of "Oh, be naughty! Be naughty!" cried throughout.
"And now for Harry Timberlake and his bitch-I mean, dancer, Ginny Weasley!"
Que strobe lights and a fast, funky beat. Harry sings a moving love song while Ginny, in a psychadelic cage, does a thousand different versions of the pelvic thrust. We have yet to see one female performer who wants to be respected for her intellect though appearently none of them have any. As we all know, it is every female student's ambition to be a sexual object for boys to toy with and discard like used Kleenex. But the best is yet to come!
Lockhart douses himself with ice cold water and loosens his collar.
"Finally, Professor Snape singing 'What a Girl Wants' while wearing a cute Little Bo Peep outfit. Oh, this humor will be the death of me!"
Abruptly, Duran Duran's "Girls on Film" starts to play and the stage transforms into a catwalk. Out struts Professor Snape in tight black pants, black leather boots and a black shirt unbuttoned all the way down, exposing his pale, suddenly overly toned chest and impossibly perfect sixpack. His once sallow skin is now porcelain white, his greasy hair is suddenly six inches longer and gleaming rainbow highlights as the spotlight reflects its lustrous sheen. The crowd sways.
Not only does Snape look ten years younger, his prominent hooked nose is now merely aqualine, his crooked teeth straight and a gleaming pearly white. The crowd oooh's and ah's as Snape takes off his leather trenchcoat and lovingly drapes it behind one shoulder. More erotic than "Deep Throat"! More intense than "Behind the Green Door"! You will cream your pants when you behold the true identity of Severus Snape! Move over Antonio Banderas and Richard Grieco. Snape's looks put Johnny Depp in a pirate costume to shame.
Whoa there! Snape *is* wearing a pirate costume! Oooooh that ruffled shirt! Those devilishly ugly turned handsome features! Lupin is one luck son of a bitch, for Snape has given his heart to the dirt poor lycanthrope forevermore. Those long trim legs glide with such masculine feline grace! Flitwick is now foaming at the mouth and gurglin oddly in his throat. There is little more than a puddle where McGonagall once sat. Lucius is so aroused he jumps and makes out with the nearest person, who just happens to be his son's Spontaneous Sex-Changing Inflatable Doll, one of the Lockhart edition.
Headmaster Dumbledore proudly looks on as the success of his talent show turns all of Hogwarts into a massive looks-oriented, orgiastic machine of bump and grind. Best of all, Snape will no longer suffer from mignight despairs over his traumatic childhood. Lupin has been reunited with his eternal soulmate. Could it possibly get any better? Oh yes, for Lupin is pregnant with Severus Snape's child. Oh, the joys and trials of male pregnancy. Not to worry, Lupin can always go to Harry, who's had plenty of experience with wizard pregnancy.
Roll credits! *We exit the Great Hall as Draco's version of "Lady Marmalade" blasts into our eardrums.
~FIN~