Harry was mildly disappointed that he couldn't get his hot Asian chick. No matter how famous you are, no matter how brave, talented, or accomplished, you're still a scrawny messy-haired geek with glasses, a big ugly scar, and unfortunate Irish lineage. He had just passed her in the hallway; both had blushed and pretended not to see each other. Yeah, all right, I get it, you're madly in love with a dead guy, he thought. Nothing I can do about it. Brush it off.

In a sudden fit of adolescent rage, which our hero seems most prone to expressing in recent installments of the series, Harry kicked the wall. The wall kicked him back. "Password?" it said.

"Ow, motherfucker!" cursed Harry, rubbing his shin.

"Access granted. Please hold."

Harry was perturbed. Slowly the wall disappeared to reveal a secret chamber, which Harry, who is kind of slow and didn't learn from his basilisk experience, boldly entered.

The walls, floor, and ceiling were tiled, and they shone with the reflected light of thousands of candles. White rose petals were spread on the floor, forming a soft carpet that led up to a large pool of sparkling blue liquid. Harry was not alone.

"Just what do you think you're doing? This chamber is Slytherins only," sneered the familiar voice of his nemesis, Draco Malfoy.

"Oh… erm, sorry," Harry apologized, politely backing towards the door. He did not turn tail and run, as he would have expected. He found himself wondering if Draco were – giggle giggle! – naked!

"Oh I was only pulling your leg," said Draco. "Come, join me."

Harry was once again perturbed. He cautiously followed the path of rose petals to the poolside, and as his view became clearer, he saw that Draco was indeed naked. His body dripping with the blue substance, he was just standing on the shallow steps of the pool.

"That's fucking disgusting," observed Harry.

"What?" said Draco innocently.

"You look like someone beat the shit out of you, tossed you in a snowbank, and doused you with Kool-Aid," (from somewhere out in the hallway, both boys heard, but did not think twice about, a raspy voice passionately shouting OH YEAH!), "I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm sure you would be dashing, if you were cleaner and I were gayer."

"Touché, my dear arch-nemesis. But let us not dilly dally hence. Come, join me. Or should I say: join me and come."

"What the devil!" exclaimed Harry, very taken aback and British.

"Oh, don't you know?" Draco said off-handedly, "This is a slash fic. We're supposed to, you know… be homoerotic and stuff."

"Oh God. I hate when they do this." Harry reluctantly stripped down to his boxers and climbed into the fizzing pool.

"As do I, my friend, as do I."

"What is this stuff, anyway?" It was sticky and smelled of sugary artificial fruit products, the sort that had contributed to at least 300 pounds of Dudley's obesity.

"It's Pepsi Blue," Draco said matter-of-factly, taking the role of Hermione, "Now I hate Muggles as much as the next lord of darkness, but by chance my father happened upon some at a pub one day. He shared it with his wizarding friends, and we decided that it was too good for Muggles. So we simply stole it, you could say. Few Muggles recall the existence of this tasty beverage. As we speak, the final veteran Pepsi Blue consumers are being hunted down and transfigured into barking seals."

"Pepsi Blue, eh?" Harry mused.

"No, I lied. It's not Pepsi Blue, it's Pepsi Twist," Draco flicked his wand and the liquid turned brown, "and I'm not Draco Malfoy, I'm Cho Chang." Harry blinked at the feminine apparition before him. Hot damn, he thought. "No, just pulling your leg again," said Cho, and she transformed herself back into Malfoy as the pool once again turned blue. "Nice wood."

"Thanks," said Harry bashfully, "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches."

"Mmm. Nice and supple," commented Draco. "It reminds me of someone else…"

"Lord Voldemort, probably."

"My, but you're right! Very impressive."

"Okay, well, we sound really gay," said Harry.

"What? We're just talking about wands… oh." An awkward silence passed. "Pervert."

"Yeah, well… wait, did you just fart?"

"No!" cried Draco, "Pepsi Blue bubbles on its own!" He shifted uncomfortably. Harry's balls were turning blue.

"So… about this sex thing we're supposed to get on with," he said.

"Yes, erm… lips or hips? If it's lips I'd rather receive but if it's hips… urgh, I'd rather not do hips, actually."

"Well, you see… I was thinking, since all semblance of a plot has led us to this awkward position, maybe we can just play some cheesy porn music and just sort of… fade out?"

"Fade out?"

"Yes, you know… the soundtrack gets all, wop wop wop waaah, or like, bow chicka wow-wow -- don't look at me like that, that's how it goes – and then we move in a little closer, and then the story ends before anything raunchy can happen."

"Brilliant! Oh, that's a relief!"

The author agreed, and so did her readers… except you. Ew, you're gross. Seriously.

Harry picked up his literal wand. "Crescendo pornographico," he muttered.

"BOW CHICKA WOW-WOW!" sang his wand. Perfectly on cue, the boys moved closer to each other.

"Harry?" Draco murmured.

"Yes?"

"Are you uncircumcised?"

"I fucking hate you, Malfoy."

And they faded out.