CHAPTER EIGHT

THE FAPPENING

Harry entered a large dungeon. His dick shriveled up. This was the place where little Farty Crotch exposed himself.

"Sit the fuck down," said a voice.

He slumped on the chair in the center of the room and kicked his feet up.

There were fifty people wearing white robes with a blood drop cross on the left breast.

In the very middle sat Cornelius Fudge, Grand Wizard.

"The faggot being present — get ready to get fucked," said Fudge.

"Objection, bitch — attorney for the defense," said a voice behind Harry.

"Motherfuck," said Fudge.

Albus Dumbledore plopped down on a recliner next to Harry and kicked his feet up.

Fudge read some bullshit charges.

"You are Harry Jimmy John Potter?" Fudge said.

"Nigga, you blind?" Harry said.

"You produced a fully erect Patronus?" boomed Madam Bones.

"Demanters," Harry said, holding his hands up.

There was an uproar.

"Two of them tried to jerk my cousin," said Harry.

Then there was an awkward silence.

"We call a witness to the stand," Dumbledore said.

Percy swore in Mrs. Fugg.

"Harry tried to rape a demanter in self-defense," said Mrs. Figg.

"Those in favor of ruling the accused innocent of all charges?" said Madam Bones.

Harry raised his middle finger.

Fudge glanced around. He then said, "When it comes to fifteen year old Harry, you are … not guilty."

Harry jumped out of his chair and popped and locked to OutKast's The Way You Move while the audience cheered loudly.