Harry Potter and the Poncy Possum of Doom:
It was a typical day at Hogwarts. Birds were singing, students were making professors want to hang themselves, and someone had transfigured the Old Testament and some random girl with flawless hair and color-changing eyes was being stoned for her alleged sins. So far, the day was just super.
"So," Harry said casually as he strolled down the plush lawn with Susan Bones, who has far too awesome of a name to get so little recognition except to occasionally acknowledge that the Hufflepuff house exists, " would you like to become my blood-slave? Cho Chang is a totally annoying bitch who doesn't deserve my greatness any longer. You, because you are a Hufflepuff, are naturally my last resort, but very reliable."
Susan raised one of her neatly trimmed eyebrows in reply before her face changed to a smile. No one ever asked her for much of anything, because she usually did not exist, but the kind author has decided to take pity upon her and give her a much more interesting life. "I would like nothing better, you sexy hunk of bespectacled scar-faced Gryffindor," she replied sweetly, as the Sorting Hat dictated that she should. Hufflepuffs are so reliable and loyal, that she had a flat rate of two sickles an hour to one and all who require her blood-slave services.
As a deranged teenager, Harry had only one choice as to what to do in this situation: storm away as angstily as possible. "You just don't understand!" he roared, slightly mammothy brows knitting together to give the full effect of a dark, brooding male. Angel from Buffy the Vampire Slayer suddenly appeared, leaning casually against a stone wall and wearing a surprisingly chic leather jacket, doing a much better dark, brooding male impression.
Hermione skipped by humming something resembling "I've Got A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts," with Ron trailing, unnoticed, behind.
"I know you do, love..." he said dreamily, "I mean---DEATH TO CROOKSHANKS, DAMNIT!"
"However do you manage being so brooding?" asked the younger of the two, and Angel handed him his business card, which was black, and thoroughly depressing. Harry opened his mouth, but something suddenly shut him up.
Just then , swooping like an overgrown, yet surprisingly oily bat, Snape comes by and berates Potter for pretending to be a vampire. Potter immediately claims this is to help find his identity as he is an angsting hormone driven teenage male. Snape of course thinks this is complete bull and drains Potter completely just to rid the world of an angst sponge.