At this point the authors would like to thank Nonjon for his kind permission to let us use his "Hufflepuff Manifesto" without which this fic would not have been written. Once again, we urge you to read his trilogy beginning with "Where in the World is Harry Potter?" though the Manifesto appears only in chapter 13 of "You Did What!"

To all those who have read it & laughed, we say only this: Moo.

To all those who have read it & not laughed, we repeat our request for unidentifiable corpses. Our need is getting more urgent by the chapter.

We disclaim. We know not what we did, only whom we did it to.

The Hoff of Hufflepuff

Falling into a comfortable chair was not what Harry expected when he was swallowed by the ground.

Groaning softly (falling through the floor is always an uncomfortable experience even if the landing is soft) Harry sat up and looked opened his eyes.

He immediately wished he'd kept them closed.

"Merlin's elbow in a butter dish," he swore to himself, and immediately thought of Ginny only to have some truly terrible mental images be conjured on the screen of his eyelids. "Oh botheration! Why did it have to be David the Engorgio'd Pecs Hasselhoff?"

"Blasphemy!" Peeves shrieked noisily. "Oh Potter you rotter! You have blasphemed the Greatest Dark God of Them All!" The poltergeist swept down to whisper in his ear, "If you want me to kill you before this gets really ugly, just say the word. You're almost worthy of being my apprentice, now that B.B. is graduating after only 200 years."

"Peeves, go check on the Bloody Baron. I think he's been at the ketchup again; his bloodstains are looking stickier than usual. Evening, Harry," Justin Finch-Fletchley said calmly. "Welcome to the Hufflepuff Hall of the Hoff. It is here that we worship the Greatest Dark God of Them All, Sacrificing to Him many hours in the Puff gym in order to gain the Pecs of Power."

Harry tried to sit up and found himself bound to the chair by insidious strands of a plant that looked suspiciously like Devil's Snare.

He hadn't faced down Voldemort to kowtow to Justin though, and he strained against the stems with manly effort. He remembered an old black and white movie he'd managed to watch on a day when Mrs. Figg had fallen asleep in the other room and stuck out his jaw like the fearless hero of it. At least he hoped it looked defiant, not just petulantly piggy as Dudley did when he imitated the stars. "Am I your prisoner?"

"Prisoner?" Hannah Abbot appeared behind Justin and threw back her long blonde hair as she laughed. "No, you're our guest. We've been watching you and we had the Room of Requirement bring you to exactly where you needed to be."

"But…" Harry trailed off and glanced down at the plant that had now encased both arms and legs in caressing tendrils that were suspiciously hairy and soft, but surprisingly tough.

"That's Devil's Chest Hair Snare. It's almost unbreakable and very, very smart. It's just there to make sure you don't hurt yourself on any of the implements of torture around the room." Hannah answered sweetly.

Harry relaxed momentarily then remembered Hermione's teachings on the subtleties of sophistries. He was back on familiar ground with this one. "That means I'm completely at your mercy, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes," Hannah and Justin replied together as Ernie approached carrying a really big knife.

Harry shrugged and the Puffs noticed that the Devil's Chest Hair had eaten his pyjama shirt and lower legs of his trousers, but left the Gryffindor red material perfectly intact in the form of boxer-style shorts. Two of them stifled a sigh over the Quidditch honed body that the DCH left revealed and the third wondered how he got his legs so smooth.

As one, the entirety of Hufflepuff House appeared in the common room and said "We are the Dark Gods. We Rule Over All and this is Our Manifesto.

"1). There is no good and evil, there is only power... and those too weak to seek it.

2). There is no good and evil! There is only power! And those too weak to seek it!

3). Live fast, die young, and leave a mutilated unidentifiable corpse behind. And then, when no one's paying attention, assume the previous life of that corpse. Repeat as necessary.

4). Wizard, Witch, Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn, Squib, Muggle. None of it matters, as inside they are all the same: five litres of blood and an infinite number of ways to spill it. Except for babies. They don't have quite as much blood.

5). Tattoos are for pussies and Death Eaters. Real men carve art into their flesh with knives, not needles, ink, or magic."

As one, the Puffs glanced at Harry and skipped the next two items of their manifesto. There were some things he just didn't need to know.

Ernie urged them on, conducting them as he would a battle or a marching band.

"8). Men will wrong you, or wrong the true ideals of a 'puffer. When a man does, see if he expresses remorse. If he does, tell him you accept his apology. Nurse his wounds, become his friend, and help him to become healthy. Then as he turns his back to you to leave, slit his throat. If the man doesn't express remorse, then kill his mother, kill his sister, kill his wife, kill his daughter, and rape his dog. Grant only the mercy of death to those who are remorseful. And give only pain to those who are not. No one fucks with a 'puff."

"And now," Hannah said.

"You will answer," Justin continued.

"Our every question." Ernie finished.

"And just so you know," Hannah smiled.

"Resistance is futile," Justin quoted.

"But it makes this so much more fun," Ernie ended with a wicked glint in his eye reflected off the knife.

"What are the secrets of Gryffindor House?" Hannah asked softly.

Cut.

"How did you find out about the secrets of the other Houses?"

Cut.

"What secret Dark rituals did you perform to become so good at Quidditch?"

Cut.

"Why didn't the Sorting House place you in Hufflepuff House if you're so good at DADA?"

Cut.

"How long was Oliver's wood?"

Cut.

"Did Cedric die because of you?"

Cut.

"Are Ron and Hermione actually shagging or just snogging?"

Cut.

"Did you really fancy Cho Chang or was she just a McGonagall replacement?" The others all turned to stare at Ernie. "What?" He asked innocently. "She's got that sexy stern librarian thing going on. You know she'd be an animal in bed."

Shuddering, Justin and Hannah went back to carving 'The Hoffed One' into Harry's chest while Trevor ribbited loudly.

Cut.

"Ow, ow, ow," Harry muttered. "OK. The answers are: don't know, chasing Trevor, none, enough Firewhisky to get Hagrid drunk enough to shag a Hippogriff, very, yes, damned if I know, definitely yes and eurgh."

"Then Cedric Diggory failed as a 'Puff. His loyalty availed him naught. He lived fast and died young, but he left an identifiable corpse. He has not, as we heretofore assumed, merely changed his name and appearance and begun life again as Stubby Boardman. He is truly dead. That is not acceptable. He is therefore demoted from the status of Dark God of Hufflepuff to Mere Mortal of Hogwarts. All those who support the motion say 'Bloody fool'. All those against say 'Bloody cool'."

Ernie paused. There was not a single "bloody cool" in Cedric's support.

"Motion passed."

Harry knew he had spent too much time in the company of the Dumb-Adores when he snickered at that sentence. He had to escape. He had to get away from the other Houses of Hogwarts where insanity was the entry requirement and being nothing less than total goat-shagging nuts was preferable.

At least in Gryffindor, Harry told himself, there aren't any earth-staggering secrets to be revealed. He was soon to be proved so very wrong that it wouldn't be funny, it would be hilarious. Unless you were Harry. Then it was just a pain in the bum.

The 'Puffs were distracted by the ongoing argument about who would replace Cedric now that he was no longer the Chief of the Dark Gods who Ruled Over All. Some suggested Harry himself, while others argued that Peeves should be consulted over the choice, since he had seen them all grow from their first year barely Gods at all to their current status as Dark Gods who Ruled.

Harry wriggled and fought against the insidious bindings of the Devil's Chest Hair. As a strand approached his face, he looked from hairy brown plant to hairy brown chest and swore quietly. "It's only David sodding Hasselhoff's chest hair!"

Yet staring at those incredible pecs gave Harry an idea and all those hours of Quidditch practice and broomstick-length comparisons that Oliver had made him do had more advantages than lightning quick toad catching reflexes. They had given Harry pecs that the Hoff would appreciate and that had already earned the respect of the Puffs. These magnificent chest muscles allowed him to perform the Ancient and Mystic Pec Flex, which is the only way to stop the Devils Chest Hair, breaking its hold over him and allowing him to make it to the door before the Puffs stopped arguing long enough to notice.

"Accio Trevor!" He cast as softly as he could but even the arguing Puffs could not ignore a flying amphibian.

"Oh, bravissimo, Harry!" Ernie applauded and the rest of the House joined in. "Not only did you not break under torture, you also freed yourself of the Devil's Chest Hair Snare and entrapped your enemies with it. All those who say Harry is a True Puff at Heart say 'All Hail the Dark God!' All those who think he's just a nancy-boy that we should have killed off years ago in order to take over his role in life say "All Impale the Daft Sod!'"

Harry was relieved to learn that not one of them wanted to see him impaled.

Having named him an honorary 'Puff, they reminded him that when the time to fight Voldemort came they would be behind him. They were a force to be reckoned with. They demonstrated their power when Harry asked, and it shed a whole new light over his Leader and the lemon-drop controlled dementia of the Headmaster, or All Puffs' Wizarding-Bitch Dumbledore as he was also known. Harry felt himself much comforted by that. The fight against Voldemort was looking less likely to be a pyrrhic victory by the minute.

As Ernie said to the Headmaster, "Look, Albitch: No one fucks with a 'Puff."