Title: Harry Loves…
Author: Ivory Tower
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and non-perverse concepts. A few nights ago, I dreamt that I was harassing Lucius Malfoy. I specifically remember asking him, "Mr. Malfoy, are you drunk?" He wasn't too pleased, but there you go.
A/N: Yes, it's been forever and a day since adding to this, but life gets in the way sometimes. Anyhow, I know I promised that horrid DADA fic, which I will eventually get to posting. I can't say when, just keep your eyes peeled. Until then…
Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express, looked around, glimpsed Draco Malfoy and swooned. He wanted to run over and do things to Malfoy that even Madonna wouldn't have dared to put in her Sex book.
"So this is what love feels like," mused Harry, walking into the nearest compartment that just happened to house Ron and Hermione.
"Hey guys." he greeted.
"Hey." responded Ron and Hermione, not looking up from their reading and exploding snap.
Unbeknownst to even the author, they were all a part of Voldemort's secret experiment. Not that this has anything to do with the plot, but it sure sounds exciting! But, onto more important things!
Young, virile and now with an excellent muscle tone to boot, Harry Potter looked outside the window and thought of nothing but Malfoy. Nay, not Malfoy. Malfoy no longer. Now, forevermore in Harry's mind, Malfoy would be DRACO in huge red neon lettering that cute little flapper girls in sparkling short dresses dance around. Yes, he's that important, folks!
Side thought…
'I guess this makes me homosexual. I hope Ron doesn't find out. He might get upset. Ron always gets upset. Ron has a swell arse. D'oh! Thought it again!'
Worlds apart, and only one compartment over…
Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle.
"Go away," ordered he. "I'm having thoughts full of turmoil."
"Yep. He's hot for Potter. How convenient." muttered Goyle.
"He's Draco Malfoy. He can do whatever he wants," insisted Crabbe, ever the loyal one.
"Yeah. Sure. Come on, Crabbe. Let's go assault the witch who pushes the food trolley." said Goyle.
Draco rolled his eyes as the two exited, then turned to stare out at the rolling hills. Romantic music swells!!!
"Oooooooooooohhhhhh-"
Snape sweeps in, in all his black billowing glory. "None of that!" he growls.
"But sir-"
"There is no singing in this story, Mr. Malfoy. And if anyone makes mention of the unintended rhyme I just made, he shall instantly be subjected to hours of Speed Racer reruns!" Snape faces the audience with his ever-present Snapish scowl. "And now for a word from one of our sponsers." Crickets chirp. Snape scowls anew. "Oh hell! I'll do it myself. Help me out here, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco grumbles but obliges. The scene suddenly changes to a bright medow where a beautiful girl with long golden hair and a flowing white dress runs with a bouquet of flowers. Snape's sallow face fills the screen.
"Mary Sue spoiling your otherwise perfectly realistic fic? Do not be a slave to the cliched masses. Call the professionals."
The camera pans back and we see both Snape and Malfoy holding machine guns and wearing black leather trenchcoats, looking cool as hell.
"Don't try this at home, kids." warns Draco as he and Snape zero in on Mary Sue and plug her full of lead.
Legolas runs over to them. "Gee thanks! I was really tired of that airhead ruining the-"
Snape and Malfoy exchange glances and promptly open fire Legolas.
"This is fun!" exclaims Draco.
"I feel fucking great!" roars Snape, now sporting a dark green headband, Rambo style.
And now back to our regularly scheduled program!
Harry sighs as he ponders his sexuality. His heart flutters whenever Draco's pale, elfin face enters his mind. Pulling a mandolin out of a random third year's ass, Harry plays a haunting melody. Please note that Harry is now in a dark forest while still on the Hogwarts Express.
"Ooooooooooh-SHIT! What the fuck?" screams Harry, taking cover while the mandolin is reduced to splinters.
"I said no singing," hisses Snape, pointing his smoking machine gun at Harry.
"Are we there yet? I'm starving," says Ron.
Harry, suddenly holding his mutilated mandolin even though he dropped it in the last scene, throws the mutilated mandolin down. "Dammit!" he yells. "Everyone get out of my fantasy. I can sing in my own fantasy if I want to!"
"Fine, but keep it down. I'm studying for my O.W.L.S." says Hermione.
Draco's gray eyes suddenly light up as he lifts his machine gun ever so slightly.
"Yeah, Potter. Go ahead and sing," he prompts.
"Draco, you can't shoot me. We love each other."
"Fuck!" Draco tosses the machine gun into a convenient plot hole. The same convenient plot hole that the dark forest disappeared into awhile ago, but this author failed to mention that until now. "Love is cruel!"
"Isn't it though." agrees Harry.
"We're here," announces Hermione, closing her book. "Professor, you'll have to leave your gun on the Hogwarts Express. Why are you even on the train to begin with?"
Snape popped a bottle of rootbeer open with his crooked teeth. "Some infernal nonsense about being Potter's bound guardian due to my twisted vampiric bloodlines and a bad hand at poker 1500 generations ago."
Everyone's eyes glazed over.
"Would you mind repeating that?" asked Draco.
Snape chugged his rootbeer, belches, and scowled at the children.
"My sole purpose in life is to hound Potter like a second shadow. Everyone knows that! It is my bloody destiny!"
"Wow. It really sucks to be you, Professor." observed Ron as everyone steps off the train.
"Isn't there supposed to be a rift in the infamous trio before the feast?" Neville wanted to know.
"Right! Ron, I'm gay."
"You repulse me, Harry! I am a homophobe. Now I'm off to plot devious plots and stuff!"
"Bye, Ron." Harry turns to Hermione. "I suppose you're going to support me in my time of need?"
"But of course, Harry. I supported you when you 'borrowed' out of Dumbledore's petty cash box; I supported you during that incident with the crossdressing moose, and I'll support you through this as well. Aren't I the greatest?" beams Hermione.
McGonagall clanged her goblet with a fork because everyone is now suddenly seated in the Great Hall.
"Speech!"
"Mr. Baggins! You are not in this story. Get out at once!" scolded McGonagall.
"My presence only adds to this already deplorable plot," argued Frodo. "Besides, I'm selling locks of hair from the recently deceased Legolas for twenty Galleons a pop."
McGonagall wrinkled her nose in disgust. Dumbledore arose and announced that Hufflepuff was being replaced with a group of Femmebots from Salem's Lot, Maine.
"Oh, and Harry Potter fancies boys, for those of you who are interested. Now, let's eat!" exclaimed the Headmaster.
Ron was so angry he took a bite out of the table and chewed grudgingly while glaring at the enchanted ceiling, that was currently showing "Gone With the Wind". Draco and Harry owled each other all during the feast. Their girlish messages consisted of "You're so cute!" and "Hee! Hee! You're blushing!"
Hermione was now memorizing Hogwarts entire library selection by aid of her stolen timeturner. She stumbled across fifteen-year-old Lupin and Sirius snogging in the Restricted Section.
"It's your fault Harry's gay!" screams Hermione and runs away, her brain fried by too much time travel.
"Who in hell was that, Moony?"
"I don't know. A little to the right, dear boy. Ooooh, yes! That 's the way! Good boy!"
"Rooooooowwwr!"
Back in our present time, boy that's an oxymoron, Neville suddenly explodes and no one cares. It seems that the Femmebots were too sexy for Neville's delicate, quirky libido. Dumbledore gives up all pretense of running the school and retires to his secret basement of pain.
Draco becomes pregnant as does Harry. Both are carrying the other's set of twins, if that makes any sense. It shouldn't make sense. Even if Harry were gay, he probably wouldn't bonk Malfoy. He'd probably fuck Seamus. Then again, he probably would not. Anyway, their night of lust was rather unromantic because Snape sat nearby polishing his gun-his machine gun, you perverts! He'd bribed a house elf to conceal it in the Jell-o mold of Nicholas Flamel's torso.
Snape was rather bored by the inexperienced duo, and kept on making suggestions such as "Suck his toes" and "Stop being the woman and fuck him like a man, baby!"
No one really noticed Hermione to be missing. She had things so screwed up that she was in the year 1200, dating a 16-year-old Tom Riddle, who was Merlin's personal washboy. By the same token, Ron was brainwashing the Femmebots to help him rule his own nation of Squidward type characters. On and on the pointlessness ensued until Voldemort pranced into Hogwarts to set things right.
First of all, he Avada Kedavra'd little Frodo to show how mean he is. Then, Voldemort Crucioed Snape 254,456 times in a row to show how merciless he is. Next, he boiled Dobby into a pudding and force fed him to Parvati Patil to show how cruel he is. Finally, Voldemort had Harry Potter in his clutches and was about to murder the boy when Voldemort changed his mind. Instead, he placed a tracking charm on Harry.
"Uh, Voldemort, wouldn't it be easier to juist kill me now?"
"Nonsense! I can kill you whenever I like. Until then, I am going to let you live so you can run to Dumbledore and combine your powers with his to defeat me. Go on, then."
"You are very stupid."
"Stupid? Hah! No one can fathom the genius of Lord Voldemort!"
Hermione stumbles into the room wearing a tight, futuristic silver bodysuit.
"The universe is infinitely backwards!" she shouts. "So much so that it goes forward... and stuff."
Voldemort clutches his head.
"Ack!" cries he. "I am defeated!"
Voldie disappears in a poof of green smoke. Angels sing and a blinding light shines. Sirius is back from the dead; resurrected to his 15-year-old self. He is leading Lupin on a leash.
"Hiya, Harry!"
"Sirius!" exclaims Harry. "You're alive! Oh, happy day!"
Hermione cries tears of joy as Draco rushes into Harry's arms. Much exaggerated and prolonged kissing ensues.
"Look! Legolas, Frodo, Dobby, Neville and Mary Sue are alive again!" yells Colin Creevy.
Trumpets blare and the tall guy on stilts walks around throwing confetti. Dumbledore finally emerges from his basement of pain with a newly reformed Ron.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." weeps Ron. "I was such an ass! I accept your gayness as I have accepted my own feminine side. I have seen the error of my ways. Let us dance!"
And there was much dancing and it was good.
"Look! Snape's hair isn't greasy anymore!" shouts Colin Creevy.
"It's just been announced on the radio that all war, famine, and poverty have been alleviated worldwide!" booms Dean Thomas.
"I like my ass!" shrieks...someone.
The world is a good place.
Then, Harry and Draco simultaneously clutch their stomachs.
"I'm in labor!" they shout because they are indeed pregnant, remember?
Twenty hours later...
Minerva wiped a tear from her eye as she beheld Harry's twins.
"They look just like James and Lily!"
"Professor, did you see Lily and James as babies or something?"
"Shut up before you utterly destroy this pile of sentimental bullshit."
"Strange...Draco's twins look just like Remus and Sirius."
"Well, Sirius is technically Draco's uncle. It could happen."
"That doesn't explain the Lupin factor."
Snape cleared his throat. Yes, he still exists. Now with a gorgeous mane of sleek raven hair, Snape resembles Alan Rickman at age 25.
"I believe that the final battle between Voldemort somehow attributes to the Lupin factor," declares sexy, sexy Snape.
Dumbledore shrugged and said, "Sounds good to me. And now, I am pleased to announce that Legolas is the new Minister of Magic and, yes, his hair has grown back from where Frodo chopped it off to sell."
Ron checked his clipboard. "I guess that covers everything, then."
Seamus looked up from his beer. "You mean, this horrid cliche has finally come to a close?"
"So it would seem." replied Ron.
Hermione runs in, sobbing hysterically.
"I'm pregnant!" she screams. "And *someone's* responsible!"
Dun. Dun! DUN!!!
~FIN~
A/N: No, I don't own Speed Racer, the Femmebots, or any character associated with Middle Earth, namely Legolas and Frodo. Oh, and Squidward is the property of whoever owns the rights to Spongebob.
Author: Ivory Tower
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and non-perverse concepts. A few nights ago, I dreamt that I was harassing Lucius Malfoy. I specifically remember asking him, "Mr. Malfoy, are you drunk?" He wasn't too pleased, but there you go.
A/N: Yes, it's been forever and a day since adding to this, but life gets in the way sometimes. Anyhow, I know I promised that horrid DADA fic, which I will eventually get to posting. I can't say when, just keep your eyes peeled. Until then…
Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express, looked around, glimpsed Draco Malfoy and swooned. He wanted to run over and do things to Malfoy that even Madonna wouldn't have dared to put in her Sex book.
"So this is what love feels like," mused Harry, walking into the nearest compartment that just happened to house Ron and Hermione.
"Hey guys." he greeted.
"Hey." responded Ron and Hermione, not looking up from their reading and exploding snap.
Unbeknownst to even the author, they were all a part of Voldemort's secret experiment. Not that this has anything to do with the plot, but it sure sounds exciting! But, onto more important things!
Young, virile and now with an excellent muscle tone to boot, Harry Potter looked outside the window and thought of nothing but Malfoy. Nay, not Malfoy. Malfoy no longer. Now, forevermore in Harry's mind, Malfoy would be DRACO in huge red neon lettering that cute little flapper girls in sparkling short dresses dance around. Yes, he's that important, folks!
Side thought…
'I guess this makes me homosexual. I hope Ron doesn't find out. He might get upset. Ron always gets upset. Ron has a swell arse. D'oh! Thought it again!'
Worlds apart, and only one compartment over…
Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle.
"Go away," ordered he. "I'm having thoughts full of turmoil."
"Yep. He's hot for Potter. How convenient." muttered Goyle.
"He's Draco Malfoy. He can do whatever he wants," insisted Crabbe, ever the loyal one.
"Yeah. Sure. Come on, Crabbe. Let's go assault the witch who pushes the food trolley." said Goyle.
Draco rolled his eyes as the two exited, then turned to stare out at the rolling hills. Romantic music swells!!!
"Oooooooooooohhhhhh-"
Snape sweeps in, in all his black billowing glory. "None of that!" he growls.
"But sir-"
"There is no singing in this story, Mr. Malfoy. And if anyone makes mention of the unintended rhyme I just made, he shall instantly be subjected to hours of Speed Racer reruns!" Snape faces the audience with his ever-present Snapish scowl. "And now for a word from one of our sponsers." Crickets chirp. Snape scowls anew. "Oh hell! I'll do it myself. Help me out here, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco grumbles but obliges. The scene suddenly changes to a bright medow where a beautiful girl with long golden hair and a flowing white dress runs with a bouquet of flowers. Snape's sallow face fills the screen.
"Mary Sue spoiling your otherwise perfectly realistic fic? Do not be a slave to the cliched masses. Call the professionals."
The camera pans back and we see both Snape and Malfoy holding machine guns and wearing black leather trenchcoats, looking cool as hell.
"Don't try this at home, kids." warns Draco as he and Snape zero in on Mary Sue and plug her full of lead.
Legolas runs over to them. "Gee thanks! I was really tired of that airhead ruining the-"
Snape and Malfoy exchange glances and promptly open fire Legolas.
"This is fun!" exclaims Draco.
"I feel fucking great!" roars Snape, now sporting a dark green headband, Rambo style.
And now back to our regularly scheduled program!
Harry sighs as he ponders his sexuality. His heart flutters whenever Draco's pale, elfin face enters his mind. Pulling a mandolin out of a random third year's ass, Harry plays a haunting melody. Please note that Harry is now in a dark forest while still on the Hogwarts Express.
"Ooooooooooh-SHIT! What the fuck?" screams Harry, taking cover while the mandolin is reduced to splinters.
"I said no singing," hisses Snape, pointing his smoking machine gun at Harry.
"Are we there yet? I'm starving," says Ron.
Harry, suddenly holding his mutilated mandolin even though he dropped it in the last scene, throws the mutilated mandolin down. "Dammit!" he yells. "Everyone get out of my fantasy. I can sing in my own fantasy if I want to!"
"Fine, but keep it down. I'm studying for my O.W.L.S." says Hermione.
Draco's gray eyes suddenly light up as he lifts his machine gun ever so slightly.
"Yeah, Potter. Go ahead and sing," he prompts.
"Draco, you can't shoot me. We love each other."
"Fuck!" Draco tosses the machine gun into a convenient plot hole. The same convenient plot hole that the dark forest disappeared into awhile ago, but this author failed to mention that until now. "Love is cruel!"
"Isn't it though." agrees Harry.
"We're here," announces Hermione, closing her book. "Professor, you'll have to leave your gun on the Hogwarts Express. Why are you even on the train to begin with?"
Snape popped a bottle of rootbeer open with his crooked teeth. "Some infernal nonsense about being Potter's bound guardian due to my twisted vampiric bloodlines and a bad hand at poker 1500 generations ago."
Everyone's eyes glazed over.
"Would you mind repeating that?" asked Draco.
Snape chugged his rootbeer, belches, and scowled at the children.
"My sole purpose in life is to hound Potter like a second shadow. Everyone knows that! It is my bloody destiny!"
"Wow. It really sucks to be you, Professor." observed Ron as everyone steps off the train.
"Isn't there supposed to be a rift in the infamous trio before the feast?" Neville wanted to know.
"Right! Ron, I'm gay."
"You repulse me, Harry! I am a homophobe. Now I'm off to plot devious plots and stuff!"
"Bye, Ron." Harry turns to Hermione. "I suppose you're going to support me in my time of need?"
"But of course, Harry. I supported you when you 'borrowed' out of Dumbledore's petty cash box; I supported you during that incident with the crossdressing moose, and I'll support you through this as well. Aren't I the greatest?" beams Hermione.
McGonagall clanged her goblet with a fork because everyone is now suddenly seated in the Great Hall.
"Speech!"
"Mr. Baggins! You are not in this story. Get out at once!" scolded McGonagall.
"My presence only adds to this already deplorable plot," argued Frodo. "Besides, I'm selling locks of hair from the recently deceased Legolas for twenty Galleons a pop."
McGonagall wrinkled her nose in disgust. Dumbledore arose and announced that Hufflepuff was being replaced with a group of Femmebots from Salem's Lot, Maine.
"Oh, and Harry Potter fancies boys, for those of you who are interested. Now, let's eat!" exclaimed the Headmaster.
Ron was so angry he took a bite out of the table and chewed grudgingly while glaring at the enchanted ceiling, that was currently showing "Gone With the Wind". Draco and Harry owled each other all during the feast. Their girlish messages consisted of "You're so cute!" and "Hee! Hee! You're blushing!"
Hermione was now memorizing Hogwarts entire library selection by aid of her stolen timeturner. She stumbled across fifteen-year-old Lupin and Sirius snogging in the Restricted Section.
"It's your fault Harry's gay!" screams Hermione and runs away, her brain fried by too much time travel.
"Who in hell was that, Moony?"
"I don't know. A little to the right, dear boy. Ooooh, yes! That 's the way! Good boy!"
"Rooooooowwwr!"
Back in our present time, boy that's an oxymoron, Neville suddenly explodes and no one cares. It seems that the Femmebots were too sexy for Neville's delicate, quirky libido. Dumbledore gives up all pretense of running the school and retires to his secret basement of pain.
Draco becomes pregnant as does Harry. Both are carrying the other's set of twins, if that makes any sense. It shouldn't make sense. Even if Harry were gay, he probably wouldn't bonk Malfoy. He'd probably fuck Seamus. Then again, he probably would not. Anyway, their night of lust was rather unromantic because Snape sat nearby polishing his gun-his machine gun, you perverts! He'd bribed a house elf to conceal it in the Jell-o mold of Nicholas Flamel's torso.
Snape was rather bored by the inexperienced duo, and kept on making suggestions such as "Suck his toes" and "Stop being the woman and fuck him like a man, baby!"
No one really noticed Hermione to be missing. She had things so screwed up that she was in the year 1200, dating a 16-year-old Tom Riddle, who was Merlin's personal washboy. By the same token, Ron was brainwashing the Femmebots to help him rule his own nation of Squidward type characters. On and on the pointlessness ensued until Voldemort pranced into Hogwarts to set things right.
First of all, he Avada Kedavra'd little Frodo to show how mean he is. Then, Voldemort Crucioed Snape 254,456 times in a row to show how merciless he is. Next, he boiled Dobby into a pudding and force fed him to Parvati Patil to show how cruel he is. Finally, Voldemort had Harry Potter in his clutches and was about to murder the boy when Voldemort changed his mind. Instead, he placed a tracking charm on Harry.
"Uh, Voldemort, wouldn't it be easier to juist kill me now?"
"Nonsense! I can kill you whenever I like. Until then, I am going to let you live so you can run to Dumbledore and combine your powers with his to defeat me. Go on, then."
"You are very stupid."
"Stupid? Hah! No one can fathom the genius of Lord Voldemort!"
Hermione stumbles into the room wearing a tight, futuristic silver bodysuit.
"The universe is infinitely backwards!" she shouts. "So much so that it goes forward... and stuff."
Voldemort clutches his head.
"Ack!" cries he. "I am defeated!"
Voldie disappears in a poof of green smoke. Angels sing and a blinding light shines. Sirius is back from the dead; resurrected to his 15-year-old self. He is leading Lupin on a leash.
"Hiya, Harry!"
"Sirius!" exclaims Harry. "You're alive! Oh, happy day!"
Hermione cries tears of joy as Draco rushes into Harry's arms. Much exaggerated and prolonged kissing ensues.
"Look! Legolas, Frodo, Dobby, Neville and Mary Sue are alive again!" yells Colin Creevy.
Trumpets blare and the tall guy on stilts walks around throwing confetti. Dumbledore finally emerges from his basement of pain with a newly reformed Ron.
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." weeps Ron. "I was such an ass! I accept your gayness as I have accepted my own feminine side. I have seen the error of my ways. Let us dance!"
And there was much dancing and it was good.
"Look! Snape's hair isn't greasy anymore!" shouts Colin Creevy.
"It's just been announced on the radio that all war, famine, and poverty have been alleviated worldwide!" booms Dean Thomas.
"I like my ass!" shrieks...someone.
The world is a good place.
Then, Harry and Draco simultaneously clutch their stomachs.
"I'm in labor!" they shout because they are indeed pregnant, remember?
Twenty hours later...
Minerva wiped a tear from her eye as she beheld Harry's twins.
"They look just like James and Lily!"
"Professor, did you see Lily and James as babies or something?"
"Shut up before you utterly destroy this pile of sentimental bullshit."
"Strange...Draco's twins look just like Remus and Sirius."
"Well, Sirius is technically Draco's uncle. It could happen."
"That doesn't explain the Lupin factor."
Snape cleared his throat. Yes, he still exists. Now with a gorgeous mane of sleek raven hair, Snape resembles Alan Rickman at age 25.
"I believe that the final battle between Voldemort somehow attributes to the Lupin factor," declares sexy, sexy Snape.
Dumbledore shrugged and said, "Sounds good to me. And now, I am pleased to announce that Legolas is the new Minister of Magic and, yes, his hair has grown back from where Frodo chopped it off to sell."
Ron checked his clipboard. "I guess that covers everything, then."
Seamus looked up from his beer. "You mean, this horrid cliche has finally come to a close?"
"So it would seem." replied Ron.
Hermione runs in, sobbing hysterically.
"I'm pregnant!" she screams. "And *someone's* responsible!"
Dun. Dun! DUN!!!
~FIN~
A/N: No, I don't own Speed Racer, the Femmebots, or any character associated with Middle Earth, namely Legolas and Frodo. Oh, and Squidward is the property of whoever owns the rights to Spongebob.