A/N: Hello again, everyone: I forgot in the first chapter, but from this point on, there will be a SOUTH PARK reference in every chapter.

This is the same stuff I put before Chapter One, but differently worded:

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this story accept for the crappy plot line.

Thank you to my audience: you continue to email me with ideas, praise, and reminders about this story.

We'll get started in moment, but first, DVD EXTRAS!!

The Ten Most Horrible Commercials Ever!!

10. Aussie Hair Crap Commercials

9.AOL Commercials

8. All Local Car Dealership Commercials, Especially That "Say Yes To Every Deal" One

7. 'Mr. Wendy, Unofficial Spokes Person' Wendy's Commercials

6. Commercials for Embarrassing Medical Conditions such as Genital Herpes

5. Veet Hair Removal Commercials

4. Any Commercials That Use the Olympics as a Platform to Sell their Product

3. Ovaltine Commercials!

2. 1-800-CALL-ATT Carrot Top Commercials

And Finally,

1. "Fitness Celebrity" John Basedow Commercials (only on east coast, I believe. If you live elsewhere, you are a lucky bastard)

Shuddering in agony? Me too. Now that I've got that off my chest, here's Chapter 2:

The Harry Potter Soap Opera, Chapter 2

When Pansy awoke, the house elf Trixie (the one Draco had said she could keep) was dabbing her forehead with a wet cloth. "What happened?" She asked it groggily.

"You tripped, mistress, and the fall knocked you out."

"Oh." she said. "Well, I think I'd like a hot bath, then, with those unpoppable pink bubbles. And after that, I may go shopping, so have some clothes laid out for me."

Trixie squirmed and wrung her hands.

"Well, why are you just standing there, you little midget? Go start my bath!"

"With all due respect, mistress, Master Draco will be home soon, and we will need to be gone."

Up until this point, Pansy had completely forgotten about the divorce. Remembering, she growled. "Just go run the bath! But first-" she added as the house elf started to run off "When he gets home and tries to make us leave make sure that no matter what yougrab a schedule of his campaign stops. No matter what."

"I understand, Madam."

"Good. Now go start my bath, and it better be ready by the time I get up there."

The house elf nodded and scurried off.

"My name is Ronald Weasely and I am running for Minister!" Cheers erupted from the crowd and flashbulbs went off everywhere. As he walked off the podium Hermione took the stage to make her speech as the Candidate's Wife.

"Citizens of England, my name is Hermione Granger-Weasely and I think you should vote for my husband because..."

As soon as he was safely off stage, Ron made a run for the magic mirror, and tried to contact Harry and Ginny. When he looked through the mirror and saw nothing but a wrecked house, he assumed that the house had been robbed and that Harry and Ginny were probably lying on the floor somewhere with their throats slit. He had immediately done what any sane person would do, and contacted 25 of the Ministry's top law enforcement officers, who busted through the door, SWAT style, a half an hour later, only to find Harry Potter passed out on the couch next to an empty bottle if hard liquor next to him. There was a magical glowing sign above his head, which changed every 5 seconds or so. It went from 'bastard' to 'asshole' to more creative things such as 'clumsy' and even, at one point, 'impotent'.

As everyone stood in shock, the sleeping charm began to wear off and Harry began to stir.

"Unh...where am I?"

Ron got down at eye level with Harry. "I don't want to shock you Harry, but you've been robbed."

Harry sat up and looked around, although not up, and therefore missed his brightly colored decoration. "Oh my God..."

"I know, but don't worry Harry, we'll catch who did it"

Harry had a thought. "Is Ginny alright?" he asked suddenly.

"She's not in the house, but don't worry, if someone's got her, they won't get far. There's a locating charm on her in case of emergency, Hermione's checking it right now."

"I didn't know there was a locating charm on Ginny..."

"Neither did she. She'd take it off if she knew of course, impractical as she is."

"I can't believe we were robbed. How could this happen?"

"We'll get 'em Harry. We'll get that stupid mutherfucker. Scum like that doesn't deserve to walk this earth."

Several hours later, Draco was having a drink, celebrating his divorce, and his latest deal. Disappointingly enough, his secretary had been transferred, meaning he not only had he not had any sex today, he also had to do all his work himself. Since he never did any of his work himself, none of his work was done. That didn't matter, though. As soon as he got a new one, he could make her do it. Tonight was about being able to go home to an empty house.

"To divorce!" said Draco jubilantly, tossing back a drink. His companion, Blaise Zambini, smiled and drank too.

"Unfortunately, I can't stay long. I need to work on discrediting those environmental groups before their case goes to court and they get too much publicity."

"Fuckin' hippies."

"Shouldn't be too hard...they've all smoked pot at some point or another. We can probably imply that they've been dealing to kids. I just need to look up a couple of examples and find an obscure legal clause or two...It'll never see a jury."

"Blaise, I want you to know how much I appreciate this. Getting my divorce for me, handling that extortion fiasco, the fuckin' tree huggers...all that, and still making me look like a grounded, intelligent, powerful man."

"You won't be thanking me when you get the bill."

"I know," said Draco tugging at the sleeves of his Armani suit. "that the best doesn't come cheap. Nothing's official until the convention next month, but I'd like you to be my Second."

"Well, Draco, I didn't expect this,"

Yes you did, thought Draco. It was one of the reasons he wanted Zambini to be his Second in the first place. A man after Draco's own heart, Zambini was obsessed with power. By putting him in the magical equivalent of the American VP, Draco hoped to put him where he could keep an eye on him.

"But," Blaise continued, "I'm certainly not going to turn you down."

"I know."

The two shook hands. "OK, now get out of my office." said Draco. "I need to see somebody about some overtime."

Zambini snickered at the underlying implication. "You know, the closer the election comes, the less often you're going to be able to do this. I know that intern went back to school...who is it this time?"

Malfoy was proud of this one. "Weasely's secretary. You know, the little one with the blonde streaks?"

Zambini pretended to think, even though it was hard not to "know" Weasely's secretary. That girl had been around. "Yeah, I know her." he said finally. "What's her name? Christie?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I'll leave you to it then." As he walked out, Christie walked in.

"Hi, Blaise! I haven't seen you in a while!" Draco shot him a questioning look. Blaise nodded at Christie, then got the hell out of there.

Meanwhile, Ginny was lying in the guest bedroom, which was just below the master bedroom, which was where Colin and Neville weren't getting any sleep. She was pondering where her marriage had gone wrong.

Were we ever really right in the first place? Yes, in school. You couldn't have written it better. We were perfect in school. He was the only one who would give Ron's little sister the time of day. Such a celebrity. And then he saved me in second year. Did I love him out of obligation? Goddamn, those two are loud.

She threw a pillow at the ceiling. The noise stopped for a minute, and she heard giggling.

Well, at least they're happy. How'd they get to be so in love? Aren't they living a life of hatred and prejudice? Maybe it's because they're gay. Maybe I should try being a lesbian. I could even steal Harry's little girlfriend...Heh heh heh...But then I'd have to do her...Ewwww...Ron's gonna be so mad when he finds out about this. Ah, well, fuck 'im. Holy crap! Was that a cow? I can't live like this. I need my own place. But then I'd need money. But I'm not talking to Harry. The lawyers can sort it out. So I need a job. Maybe Ron can get me one? I'll talk to him about it when I tell him I left Harry. Although maybe that's not such a great idea. But they always need temps at the Ministry. I know a couple of his coworkers. I could ask one of them. I'll call tomorrow.

Something particularly kinky happened upstairs. A couple of creaks and a loud thud were heard. Ginny thought the roof might cave in. She elected to move out to the couch rather than die.

When she got there though, she found Skimbleshanks, Neville and Colin's over-grown cat, sleeping in the exact middle. When she tried to moved him, he hissed and clawed at her exposed wrist. She decided to keep him in mind as suicide option and spent the night on the hard wood floor next to the couch.