Somewhat Rash

AN: Yea, I'm back, it's not your imagination.

Dumbledore is sitting across from me. It's a strange sensation, having this man examine me all over again, like a thoroughly chewed gum wad imbedded onto his robes. Even stranger still, is the fact that he's chosen the most uncomfortable place to have a discussion, between men , I mean, heterosexual men….or so I'm inclined to believe. I've always thought of Dumbledore as sort of….asexual, you know , as if …well, put it this way, if he'd ever made a porno film , his genitalia would be this disturbing vortex sort-of-thing, like a portal.

Bugger, he's talking. It looks as if he's been doing it for a while, shite, shite, shite. What was it he said he wanted to talk to me about? Pure bollocks , no doubt. Keep the interested expression, James, don't let it drop , or he'll curse me and I'll end up being a toasted load of bird-shite with a schizophrenic personality. He had a proposition, that's it! Now all I have to do is—what's that?

Oh, Merlin that is disgusting! I think it's moving, might be an animal. Perhaps Dumbledore's not as brilliant as I believed him to be , anyone can notice a humongous gob of—whatever it is—in one's teeth. It's all purple and gurgling, I think it's talking. Oh Merlin I'm confused. Is it Dumbledore talking or his glob? Bloody hell, nothing's ever easy!

OOOhhh! Tea!

"…..it's all pretty simple" Dumbledore picked up a coffee cake and started munching on it….he reminds me of a chipmunk…how odd.

Where's my tea? Who do I have to fucking drill open to get a bloody cup of—

"Anyone order a bit of Earl Grey?" the waitress winked in my general direction (either that or she had a very peculiar twitch) "sugar?"

"Huh?" I know, witty, correct?

"Would you like some sugar, luv?"

"Uhh…sure" she giggled some more, making her massive chest rise and fall with the force of a cannon. I can't bloody believe it , I look like a bum, and the female population still flocks to me.

The waitress wasn't particularly attractive, with the exception of her colossal chest and extraordinarily neon fingernails , there wasn't much worth mentioning. However, considering what (or rather who) I've been getting myself into lately , she was bloody Aphrodite (if a bit more round and bubbly).

She returned with the sugar and winked repeatedly, 'subtly' signaling the dingy bathroom. Oh, hell , what've I got to loose? I'll make some money, and rid myself of the less than appetizing company.

I nodded. She giggled , I think she hit her chin on her left boob, it seemed slightly larger than the right. She swung her hips dangerously to the bathroom , knocking over a few advertisements and colleagues, managing to apologize and tip something else over simultaneously. So she's missing a few human functions, and what? Last night's dinner cost me a lifetime of trauma. She was the size of an impregnated manatee and had the disposition of a bitch in labor, even after I shagged her.

"…the pay's great, or at least it's more than you're making—"

"Uh, Excuse me sir, it seems those scones have a rather strong effect on my weak stomach"

"The scones? But you haven't had any"

"Well, sir , to be frank, it's watching you eat them that's causing my illness" come on , it wasn't that bad, what I really said was "It must've been the early breakfast , then" what, licking the cobblestones for ancient dirt is highly toxic? That's pure bollocks alright , pure bollocks.

"Well, off you go then, good sir" Dumbledore looked amused "Forward to your valiant quest!"

He's such a bleeding psychotic, really, I mean , who takes an old student to a 'couples only' muggle pub in mid-London? Dumbledore, obviously.

OoO

"You want me to pay you?" Birds are so strange , you ever notice how they always repeat the shite you just said , as if we'd forget or never knew what we were saying in the first place? I noticed, but of course , I'm me and you're….stale.

"Yes"

"But , why?" she's so…how can I put it? She's annoying but it's more than that, her voice is like a bleeding newborn on helium with it's diminutive toe squashed in a door(which is causing the thing pain and in turn, causing it to squeal.)

"I'm hungry."

"I could give you food luv—"

"No, galleons. Look Emilia—"

"Emmeline"

"Whatever. Listen, I need the money so if you would please—"

"Excuse me, excuse me. I'm still trying to get over the fact that you want me to pay you for—for…umm.."

"A shag?"

"Shhhhh!" her fat finger flew to her mouth as if chased by wildfire "You're so vulgar!"

Ugh, I loathe hypocrites, especially if they're female, I feel like everything that comes out of their mouths is dung , loads of dung-caked hypocrisy.

"Listen knockers—" insert dramatic gasp from the viper-heifer in the left corner " You didn't seem to mind my vulgarity some five minutes ago—"

"Well-well- you watch, I'll tell the manager!"

"What exactly?" I scoffed "That you led one of the customers to the bathroom , that you initiated in promiscuous (look, large word) behavior and that you, my lovingly developed cow , preceded to remove your knickers with ease?"

"Bastard!"

"No, I was conceived in marriage , thank you"

OoO

"I'll get the bill , sir"

"No Mister Potter, I invited , it would be blasphemous to let you pay"

"But I have money—" three guesses where that came from , eh?

"Good. Keep it. You'll need it for the journey. And your supplies of course." Dumbledore looked startled for a second , as if he'd made a hasty decision and said "Or am I too presumptuous in saying you accept the position?"

Now , here's the question. Do I accept , not knowing what exactly I'm agreeing to , but assuring my survival? Or do I risk my pride and ask?

"I accept sir" It was more than a bit obvious that my ego likes its high stance in the atmosphere mates, that's never going to change.

OoO

There are times where my self esteem is submerged miles below sea level , in these pathetic and generally dismal moments , I am inclined to believe I have a flaw. WAM! It's a shocker innit?

What would make me think such treacherous thoughts? Well…you see lovey….the fact that I just crossed platform nine and three quarters for the EIGHTH time, might have something to do with it , or perhaps that I am now surrounded by bloody miniscule bogey-ample students . I am in severe need of a shot , or a shag , whichever is more convenient.

Oh bollocks , there's that Billy-bastard and his mother. Yes, they remember me. Bloody idiotic woman, she didn't need to dodge behind her kid, I can't aim correctly from way back here. Sigh.

It almost makes me believe I've been….dare I say it ….a bit rash. Merlin , it burns my tongue to think it , what would my ancient mum have said now , her son desperate and somewhat sexually frustrated?

James Harold Potter, if I have to hear another uttered word of self pity I will personally detach your testicles from their convenient placement! And disfigure you , disfigure I say! What happened to the Potter pride? Is there even an ounce left inside your ego-maniacal testosterone powered genitalia worshipping shell of a butter-beer-deadened body? I am ashamed to even mention you as a Potter—

"Oi! Watch it!" what? Am I really that hard to see in a river of midget circus performers?

Then I saw her, bloody goddess if I had my say in it. A sheet of lovely (lovely?) red hair , vibrant green eyes, three cronies , two stalkers and some scattered real friends flanked her sides. However, she had to shatter it all by opening her mouth.

"Oh yea? 'Choo goin' to do 'bout it , prude?" she smirked. Did she just call me a…prude?

"Yeeeeeaaaa" contributed cronie numero toi , bloody cow.

She snapped her fingers , throwing a smoldering glare at her left flank "Stuff it , Dorcas"

"S-s-sure boss"

So she's taken my place as Hogwarts royalty. Dear Agrippa , this place's gone to the dogs.

"Did you just call me a bloody prude?"

"Yea" she curled her fingers and examined her bitten fingernails "And?"

"Yeaaaaaaa, and?"

"Dorcas!" she snapped , loosing the cool composure and accent " What did I just say?"

"S-s—ssorry boss"

I don't believe short people should be so bloody cocky, they have no advantages, I could bloody step on this pubescent whore before she could offer a shag in repent. I glared, imagining her head exploding beneath my dingy trainers.

" I wouldn't be so fresh with me, Pipi" I sneered "I am your new DADA professor" Silly me , did I forget? I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I was better off whoring, I mean , look at these birds , all psychotic and illegal, how's a bloke supposed to survive?

She blinked , twice , her cronies swallowed loudly and her friends were still smirking superiorly at me from her sides.

" 's Lily, prude" she chuckled, tugging on the collar of her Clash shirt "You look like the type 'o prof 'oo needs a good long wank, eh?"

Well, she can certainly understand me.

"Nooo" I shook my head , though I doubt anything I said would've stopped her bloody posse from laughing.

"Inee a sad-lookin' bloke, Marlene?" she said to one of her friends " Some DADA Prof"

"Shut up , you!" I screeched , making some surrounding midgets tumble and fall into the tracks , their parents bawling and occasionally celebrating , " I DEMAND RESPECT! I am Ja—"

"I see you are taking that approach , Mister Potter" It's a good thing Dumbledore interrupted when he did , or I would've been forced to attack and molest the bird in public, however, now I have the opportunity to spring upon her in a deserted corridor "That is all well and good. It usually takes some time before new Professors get a teaching style—"

"Potter?" that was the cocky cockney " As in , James Potter?"

I nodded , looking a bit confused. Have I underestimated my fame? Is it possible that I have become a universal sensation without my knowledge? Bloody hell! Call the Prophet, call my old pal Rita, call Witch Weekly and call me mum, I've reached super-stardom!

"Graduated three years ago?"

Oh, well. Nevermind, don't call me mum.

"Yes, Miss Evans. A Gryffindor as well , if my memory serves me correct"

"What is it , Pip—Lily?"

She started laughing, at first a low rumble , then an overwhelming cackle that shook the foundations of the platform, and if my eyes don't hallucinate on a regular basis (meaning not drug and/or alcoholic beverage induced) she pissed on herself as well.

"I remember you" she gasped , clutching at her ribcage "I remember you"

AN: So…whatcha fink?

Sadly I've run out of condoms, however, for those of you with an experimental spirit I have :

ALL PURPOSE LUBRICANT

Greases Cars, Cures Colon Cancer , Even makes your wife tolerate you!

Anyone interested?