Title: 00H's Great Adventure
Author name: Morgan Says
Author email:
Category: Humor
Warning: Slash! H/L
Rating: R, just to be safe.
Spoilers: All, just to be safe.
Summary: Harry Potter, known to himself as 00H, gets kicked out of Potions by an angry Professor Snape and spends the evening on an adventure in Hogsmeade.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own, therefore not getting any money.
Author notes: (Double-O-H) Completely random. No real sex scenes. Pokes fun at a few overdone scenarios near the end. More sarcasm then humor. Have a go at it, Godawful Fanfiction.
"Today we will be preparing the three main ingredients for the Confusion and Befuddlement Draught. Can anyone tell me what the names of those ingredients are and where to find them? No…? Well then, I see that since Miss Granger is not in class today I shall have to choose a victim to answer the question. Mr. Potter, perhaps?"
Not receiving an answer, Severus Snape took three long strides until he stood arrogantly over his least favorite student, Harry Potter, who was currently drooling on his potions textbook as he slept the class away. Snape looked maliciously over at Ronald Weasley. The red head was frantically trying to shake his best friend awake, and at one point he tried jamming his quill into Harry's ear. He wasn't succeeding.
Snape sneered at him and ripped the pen out of the Boy-Who-Lived's empty head, tickling Harry's nose with the feathery end in the process. Harry giggled, sat up straighter, and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, lazily trying to get the spit off of his face. He didn't look up until he heard someone clear their throat, reminding him of Umbridge, and he was instantly on his guard. He looked around and noticed that he was not, in fact, in the Gryffindor dorms, but in his Friday evening Potions class and many pairs of eyes were glancing his way. And then Harry spotted the shadow of a tall man standing before his desk.
Oh, shit.
And 'Oh, shit,' was right.
"Well, Potter. Answer the question; what are the three main ingredients in the Confusion and Befuddlement Draught?" Snape repeated in his not-so-sexy-four-packs-a-day voice. He waited for a minute while Harry looked around the room, searching for someone to come to his rescue. Ironic, really, how a boy could fight off a Dark Lord but couldn't answer a simple potions question. The answer was even written out on the chalkboard in his artistically loopy handwriting that all Death Eaters had.
"Er…" Harry replied. Harry had no clue what the answer was, and Ron wasn't helping. The nut kept pointing to the front of the classroom, which confused Harry to no end. He decided to take a stab at it, and answered with the first three substances that popped in his head. "Grape jelly, rat tail, and dragon blood," he said in as confidant a way that any clueless boy could pull off.
Harry knew from Draco Malfoy's sniggers that he had just screwed something up. He wasn't really surprised.
"Potter," Snape spoke through clenched, yellowing teeth, "Get. Out. Of. My. Classroom!" Harry, along with the Gryffindor half of the class, jumped a foot into the air when the greasy professor shouted the last word. He scrambled around, picking up his sticky supplies and shoving them in his bag, and then ran out of the class as fast as he could.
Professor Snape had doubled his efforts into failing Harry at Potions, but a stern warning from Dumbledore had softened things up a bit. Getting out of Snape's class without a detention or a black eye was a great relief to Harry; he didn't think his little Gryffindor heart could handle much more strain. Either way, black eye or no, Harry got out of his last class before Winter Break early, and he now had two hours to do with as he saw fit.
Once Harry found the corridor with the statue of the humpbacked witch, he pulled his invisibility cloak out over his body (which had mere seconds earlier been conveniently placed in his back pocket for safe keeping) and abruptly pressed his back against the corridor wall; wand poised in hand ready for attack, stealthily creeping from one point to another. He started muttering low under his breath, in a very posh British accent.
"Agent 00H, you are needed in Hogsmeade immediately! Zonko's Joke Shop is being invaded by aliens from outer space. You must stop them and save the human race!"
"I'm right on it, Bub," 00H replied, his normal voice low and rumbling. He did a couple of cool looking spinny tricks, which would have impressed the ladies if a) there were people in the hall other than himself, and b) he wasn't invisible. Not that Harry actually liked girls. They were icky. After picking himself off of the floor, where he had landed after a rather shaky double toe-loop, he made his way over to the secret passage to Hogsmeade and walked. And walked. And walked.
Agent 00H quickly made his way out of the candy shop's cellar (he took a couple chocolate frogs to inspect for poisons during snack time) and scuttled out into the busy, overcrowded streets of Hogsmeade. There were festive decorations up all over the place; fake snow, real snow, mistletoe… the usual holiday things.
He took a few minutes to make sure that Zonko's was safe and secure, and a few more to curse Bub for lying to him about aliens. Really, Bub! Aliens? No such thing!
Harry ignored the fact that he was a wizard with magical powers, and that Justin Finch-Fletchly's great aunt was part alien. (He had walked into an alley behind Madame Puddifoot's and 'switched' identities from 00H to Harry.)
The lion in his tummy growled at Harry, voicing its hunger, and as he walked to The Three Broomsticks three things happened in the blink of an eye; 1) his cloak was ripped off, 2) a white, fur covered arm wrapped around his midsection, and 3) a fishhook feeling overtook his belly button. Harry had a weird suspicion that he had just been teenager-napped and portkeyed by a polar bear.
"What the hell?" Harry bellowed as soon as his head had stopped spinning.
"Eloquent as always, Potter," a rich, silky, very posh British voice said.
For a split second Harry thought it was Bub, 00H's boss. Mentally kicking himself for being so stupid, Harry turned around to face his captor. His jaw dropped. It was Lucius Malfoy, looking smug and devilishly handsome in his expensive winter coat. He was really in for it now.
"You… you're not going to kill me, are you?"
Lucius blinked. "Why would I do that?" he replied, temporarily forgetting he was an Evil Dark Wizzard's Right Hand Man. His blond was showing. Lucius was stunned by Harry's beauty, grace, and all of the other mushy junk that went along with it. He slipped off his white gloves, revealing long, pale, aristocratic fingers and ran them through Harry's messy mop of hair. There were only a few knots and cowlicks; much less then Lucius had expected to find while seducing Harry Potter. He ran his hand down to cup Harry's cheek and slowly started leaning in, lips parted slightly.
"Er, Mr. Malfoy… What are you doing? Are you trying to bite me?" the ever naïve Gryffindor boy questioned. Harry always pretended to be oblivious to sexual innuendo and stuff; he found that he got laid a lot more when he did.
"Shut up, Potter." And then Lucius closed the gap between his and Harry's lips. The kiss was mind-blowing; sweet and passionate and tender, but no one wants to read three paragraphs describing how one chaste kisscould makeHarry's knees go weak.
Lucius and Harry continued to suck face, foregoing breathing all together, as they didn't seem to need it. (Sexual anticipation gives a never-ending supply of oxygen in the Wizarding World, especially if both parties are male, female snoggers tend to take little gasps between kisses or they breathe deeply through their noses while playing tonsil hockey.)
A lot of touching, groping, and grinding happened, and then Lucius said something witty that made Harry fall in love with him. A bed and lube appeared out of thin air, and both were used accordingly. There were lots of moans, gasps, pants, and 'Ohmerlinohmerlinohmerlin!'s. They both had a lot of fun.
The next morning, Harry Potter grinned a toothy grin at the bathroom mirror in the Malfoy bathroom and struck a Charlie's Angels pose. 00H was never afraid of adventure.