This is a fictional story is based on the characters of J.K. Rowling. Certain plotlines are similar but it doesn't stay perfectly on course. It mentions things about book five that you shouldn't read unless you've already read it. Also, there are certain elements of this story that are inappropriate for younger kids, like swearing and adult situations. Oh, and if you have problems with homosexuality, this isn't for you. And... I would really like to read reviews, just out of curiosity. But yes... It is indeed a crazy, crazy story. Enjoy!

Character Confusion

A Mild Parody/Crazy Romance

by the mahvelous Alabaster Bootykins (imaginary pimp)

CHAPTER ONE

"Damn," Harry muttered as his page slipped and a thin red line of blood appeared along his finger. He sucked the finger apprehensively, not wanting to leave his room in fear of another encounter with his Uncle Vernon, or worse, Dudley.

Since the summer before, his relationship with his uncle, aunt and cousin had only gotten worse. They mistrusted him more than ever, and knew full well that he couldn't use magic outside of school, especially after last summer's traumatic experience. Barely feeding him, much less conversing with him, they seemed to doom him into complete solitude until the next term at Hogwarts began, which seemed to be better than the alternative.

"Boy, will you shut that owl up?" his Uncle Vernon shouted, bursting in to the room in a fury. Harry turned to face him, surprised. He hadn't realized Hedwig had begun squeaking while Harry had been lost in his thoughts.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, not really meaning it but very much wishing that Vernon would leave him alone. He went to Hedwig and stroked her neck calmingly.

Uncle Vernon's normally purple face had turned, if possible, an even deeper shad of fushia. "Here your Aunt Petunia and I are trying to sleep a pleasant night through--you know how troubled her sleep is-- and you're in here making a riot!" He paused for a moment, catching his breath. "If that bird goes off again, I'll come in here and wring its neck myself!" he finished, puffing hugely.

"It won't happen again," Harry responded glumly, not awake enough to fight back.

Uncle Vernon seemed satisfied enough with this response, but glared at Harry another moment as if to get his point across before stomping back to his room.

Harry sighed with relief. This summer had been so full already of these awkward confrontations that he was happy to get rid of his uncle even quicker than usual. He gave Hedwig a final pat and sat back on his bed contemplatively.

Only two days until he went back to Hogwarts. That thought was the one that rang through his head, kept him going. He would finally see Hermione and Ron again. He'd received loads of letters from both of them, especially Ron, who'd seemed to have missed him an awful lot. But there was one letter from Ron that meant the most.

Dear Harry, (he had written)

How is your summer going? Hermione and I have missed you dreadfully, and we can't wait to see you at the beginning of our year six! I wonder who the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be his year, eh? I suppose whoever it is, they can't be worse than Umbridge. (How's your hand doing, by the way?)

Anyway, I can't wait to see you again. I know I say that a lot, but it's true. I really care about you Harry. I mean, we really care about you. Hermione too. I hope you're taking the news about Sirius well, because I'd hate for you to come back differently. Don't change, okay?

Well, my mum is calling, but please write back soon. Hearing from you would be brilliant.

Love,

Ron

Harry had read the letter so many times that he had it practically memorized. It was simple, yet strangely touching. He wrote back, saying:

Dear Ron,

Thanks for the letter. I really miss you too. Hermione as well, of course!

Your letter was really touching, you know? I makes me feel better to have to live in this dreadful place when I know I have people who care about me a lot. After all, we are best friends... I'll see you really soon though! We should meet in Diagon Alley again this year for books.

Harry

Harry hadn't purposely avoided the topic of Sirius, but it hadn't really come to mind until after he sent the letter. It wasn't that he didn't care about Sirius, didn't miss him. He thought about what happened every day, and the guilt was almost overwhelming. It still felt like Sirius's death was his fault.

But when Harry sat to write the letter, all he could think about was Ron. As his pencil scratched along the paper, he saw Ron's smooth complexion and full lips and clear gray eyes. He heard his familiar, warm voice and smiled softly. but Harry quickly shook his head. These thoughts that were going through his head were crazy. He just missed Ron so much, that was the only explanation.

It explained everything, even the dreams.

Ron sat anxiously with Hermione, slurping his ice cream. It was German chocolate, but he could barely taste it. He couldn't wait to see Harry again. He leaned forward on the table, unconsciously scanning the crowd for Harry's familiar face. He had meant what he had written to Harry about Sirius. If Harry had changed, he didn't know what he'd do...

Hermione giggled, and Ron snapped back to reality. "What?" he demanded rudely, a comic expression of frustration painted onto his face.

She pointed to his chin, where he saw an enormous dribble of ice cream that had collected. "Try swallowing the ice cream," she instructed in that know-it-all way of hers. "It'll work better."

He rolled his eyes. "I can't help it that my mum never taught me proper eating habits," he said simply, eliciting another giggle from Hermione. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "You're in an awfully good mood today. What've you been doing?" he questioned.

"Nothing. I'm not in an especially good mood," she insisted, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not--"

"Yes!"

"No!

"Yes!"

"No!"

"What are you arguing about now?" a familiar and very welcome voice asked dryly.

Ron looked up to see Harry's bright green eyes shining down at the two of them. Not even thinking, he grinned and leapt from his seat, hugging Harry close. It felt so good, and it had been so long since they'd touched, that Ron didn't want to ever let go. He could feel Harry's warm breath on his shoulder, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

But then reality hit. Hard. It wasn't exactly normal for best friends to be clinging to one another. Especially in public. He stepped away awkwardly.

Hermione looked at Ron strangely for a moment before hugging Harry tightly herself. Ron couldn't help noticing the way she pressed her body suggestively against his, her hand creeping down and grabbing his butt. A lot had changed over the summer.

When she finally pulled away, she was smiling hugely and Harry was blushing bright red. Ron felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly concealed it. "So... how was your summer?" Ron asked breathlessly.

"Good overall, except for the whole relatives thing," Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione stayed close to him. "Well, that pretty much constitutes for the whole thing, doesn't it, Harry?" she asked, still grinning and looking him up and down.

"Have you gotten your things yet, Harry?" Ron asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Of course he hadn't.

"Er--no," he replied, a smile playing on his lips. "Shall we go then?"

Hermione pouted slightly. "I can't right now. I'll meet up with you later, though," she said, pecking each of them on the cheek.

"Alright," Ron said. "See you then!"

She smiled and walked away, leaving Harry and Ron alone. Ron couldn't help but feel relieved. Now, finally he could have Harry to himself, and not compete for his attention.

"Let's go." Harry grinned sweetly.

As they walked side by side, Ron had to resist the urge to grab Harry's hand.

Hermione hiked her skirt up a tad more and unbuttoned her blouse a button as she hurried to meet Victor Krum. She knew what he'd look for when he saw her, and she was never one to disappoint. After a few minutes walk, she spotted him at the arranged streetcorner.

He stood there, slightly clubfooted and awkward. His crooked nose had been broken many times, and he had loads of scars all over his body, especially a more jagged one across his right cheek, but he was powerfully built and surprisingly graceful. Plus, he bought her things. Just like all the others.

Victor spotted her and smiled, showing rows of crooked teeth, with some missing. She smiled back, although hers was slightly forced. This whole arrangement was beginning to get old. It could be time for her to find someone else to play with.

"Hi, Babe," he growled as she approached.

She winked. "Hi yourself," she whispered.

His surprisingly strong arm wrapped around her waist and roughly forced her against him. She giggled coyly, her own arms slipping over the back of his neck. Grinning wildly and breathing rotten breath into her face, Victor ungracefully pressed his lips to hers, but she quickly pulled away.

"Victor... Now isn't a good time for this," she said softly, glancing around her anxiously.

He frowned. "Vy not?" His face was sullen; he was used to getting things his way.

"People--" she started, "from my school are... are here, and I don't want them thinking I'm easy or something. Lord knows they already talk about me enough after that awful article by Rita Skeeter..."

He looked kindly into her eyes befor scanning her body. "They vouldn't tink that," he insisted quietly.

"Yes they would. Everyone at Hogwarts is so judgemental about me... I mean, if Ron found out, I would never hear the end of it." She shook her head firmly. "No, not now."

"Vat if I found us some privacy?"

Hermione glanced up, intrigued. "How private?"

He shrugged. "A place nearby. I assure you, no one would find out..."

"Where?"

He smiled. "Over der. That alley," he said softly.

She considered this from a moment. It did look fairy clean.... "I've been in worse," she said, mainly to herself. "Okay, you've got a half an hour, but make it worth my time," she directed at him.

Chuckling grotesquely, he grabbed her hand and pulled her deep into the alley. She made no protests.

Hermione was still high from her sexual buzz as she stumbled towards the train. It was a feeling she was almost hooked on, and had become increasingly used to it since she'd changed her look over the summer and started down the long road of sexual experimentation. Or at least that was what her therapist had called it. She straightened her skirt and fumbled with the buttons on her shirt as she walked onto the train and down the thin hallway to the car where she, Harry, and Ron always sat. When she shoved open the door, she found Ron and Harry enveloped in an animate conversation, faces close together, eyes shining. She let out a very unladylike snort and leaned against the doorframe. Both boys instantly straightened up, and Ron's face turned as red as his hair.

"Hey Hermione," Harry coughed, eyes shifting.

"Don't let me interrupt your little rondezvous," she grinned. "I'll just be in the drinking car."

After she left, Harry couldn't keep the grin off his face. "We're going to have to tell her," he said, looking secretively over at Ron.

"She'll freak. She always wanted you, you know." Ron smiled back. "At least between the sheets anyway."

Harry's heart tingled at the sight of Ron's smile, and he reached over and grabbed his best friend's hand, lacing their fingers together. Nothing had ever felt more right. The shrill whistle sounded and the train lurched forward. The Hogwarts Express was on its way.

Professor Severus Snape looked at the clock through the thick haze of smoke that surrounded him. Was it possible that time was actually slowing? It sure as hell seemed like the hands of the clock were ticking slower to him. He took another long drag on the pipe attached to the large bong that sat next to him on the desk and blew out the pink smoke in a giant fluffy ring. It was was a concoction of his own creation: a mixture of woodbayne and essence of chicadee. And it was seriously messing with his head. Almost more than it normally did.

A sudden sharp rapping came at the door, and Snape sat up so suddenly that he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Severus?" Professor McGonagall's shrill voice leaked through the wood. "Why is the door locked?"

As if she didn't already know. He snorted loudly and waved his wand in the air, making the smoke dissipate and the bong disappear. Then he swayed and swaggered over to the door and unlocked it with shaky fingers. McGonagall took one look at her coworker and raised an eyebrow.

"Minerva! Come in, come in." He waved a hand and ushered her in. Dumbledore followed close on her heels. "What can I do you for?" His words slurred together slightly, and he nearly tripped over a chair as he moved across the room.

"There is a new DADA teacher," she said, trying to make her voice neutral, but she couldn't keep the glee from shining through. Snape was much less subtle about it.

"Thank Merlin!" he bellowed. He raised an imaginary mug in the air. "The old hag is gone!" His boisterous gesture threw him off balance slightly, and he tipped precariously.

"Steady, Severous," Dumbledore reached out a bony hand to help him. "We need to screen the new teacher first. One Miss Ginger Snaps, comes from somewhere in the states. South Beach, Florida, I believe."

It was sometime during this briefing that McGonagall noticed the slight nod foreward of Snapes' head, the deepening of his breath. "Inconsiderate ass!" McGonagall muttered to herself as she realized what had just occured.

Dumbledore nodded agreeably. "I think our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will work out just fine," he croaked.

McGonagall studied him for a moment. "Will you need my help to get out of here?" she asked somewhat condescendingly.

He nodded slowly, his long beard drooping to the floor, and yet somehow he still looked like a child. Slowly he forced his glazed eyes up to her; he was breathing heavily. "Please."

Gritting her teeth and bracing her body for his added weight, she held her arm out dutifully. Ungracefully, Dumbledore gripped her arm with bony, white-knuckled hands and they made their slow, painful way out. It was pretty pathetic, actually, how weak the old man had become. In his prime, he had been the strongest wizard in the world. Even Voldemort had been afraid of him. Now.... he couldn't leave a room without assistance. McGonagall closed the door behind her with a heavy sigh.

Snape slowly opened one eye. He was pretty out of it, even he had to admit, but he had enough of his wits about him to know how to get rid of the old farts when all he wanted was some quality time with his bong. He whispered the spell to make the bong reappear with his wand just dangling from his fingertips. To his half-conscious rage, it didn't work. After his anger dissipated slightly, he leaned back in his chair, beginning to not really care again. He was high enough for his buzz to last a few more hours anyway.

Draco Malfoy sat in his train car, bored and unamused. Crabbe and Goyle sat across from him, but they weren't very entertaining at all. Crabbe was digging in his nose with his forefinger, while Goyle stared blankly into nothingness. Eager to entertain himself somehow, Draco got up and jingled the coins in his pocket. What was the point of being loaded if he didn't spend his money anyway?

"Where you going?" Crabbe grunted, taking his finger out of his nose for the briefest moment.

Draco rolled his eyes. "To get some things to eat," he said exhaustedly. Seeing the cronies beginning to get up to follow him, he jerked his head sharply. "I can do it on my own, thank you very much," he snapped.

Dumbfounded, the two meatheads looked back at him confusedly. Malfoy just snorted to himself and stepped into the hallway. Strolling down the hallway as if he owned the place, he hurried to the sweets cart. He smiled sneeringly at the witch behind the piles of displayed and tossed her a coin nonchalantly, grabbing his favorites in one smooth motion. A chocolate was halfway to his mouth when his breath caught in his throat.

There she was. The girl of his dreams. Silky auburn hair fell to her mid-back over her slender shoulders. Her green eyes shone at him, and she froze in place just as he had. He studied her perfect face, not wanting to look away ever. Time seemed to slow or stop, and it felt to him that they were the only ones on the train. Then, without warning, his brain registered who she was. Ginny Weasley.

What happened to her over the summer? Draco asked himself. What happened to me over the summer? All he wanted to do was to dredge up his former hate for the entire Weasley family, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to do it. Clearing his throat, he made his best attempt towards speaking.

"Hey... Ginny," he spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

She looked surprised and seemed unable to speak for a moment. She too cleared her throat in an attempt to respond. "You're... talking to me? Without insults or... or anything?" She seemed to be in shock.

Malfoy just shook his head. "No... I mean... yes...er... I'm sorry for all the things I said before you know, and I was wrong, and... have I mentioned I'm sorry?"

Ginny's emerald eyes sharpened. "Is this whole...being nice thing a trick? Are you setting me up for some kind of punch line or something?" she questioned fiercely. For some reason her animated anger only made him want her more.

Surprise struck first, and then sadness. He really had been terrible to her, to her family. "No... I'm kind of different now."

"Okay," she responded slowly. "Well, it was nice... uh... talking to you then." She turned and began to walk away, but before he realized what he was doing, Draco had put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her from leaving. "What?" she asked, softly, shyly.

"Don't leave," he said even softer.

Ginny stared at him confusedly for a moment before hearing an all-too-familiar voice behind her, breaking the moment apart.

"Malfoy? What the bloody hell are you doing? Get your hands off her!" Ron Weasley practically screamed behind them.

Oh great. Just what Draco needed. A confrontation with tweedly-dumb and tweedly-dumber. His head snapped to face the gawky features and bright red hair of Ginny's brother. Instead dislike immediately crossed both of the boy's faces, and it only strengthened when Harry Potter came up behind Ron for support. Both sides glared at each other for a few moments before speaking.

"Weasley, Potter," Draco acknowledged, scorn in his voice.

Ron only darkened his steely glare, "I said, take your hand off her, Malfoy," he spat.

Draco reluctantly removed his hand from Ginny's shoulder, and Ginny looked frantically between the two sides. "Please Ron, he was being nice, I swear," she assured him.

But Ron continued to stare."What, you've used a memory charm to brainwash her?" he questioned furiously. "I thought you could sink no lower, but--"

"Please--" Ginny interrupted.

"Ginny, get over here right now. Malfoy's clearly up to no good." Seeing her hesitation, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away.

She cast one last wistful glance over her shoulder before being pulled out of sight.