Disclaimer: I may be the last one to say this, but be sure you've got the right word and not another word that looks similar.

Dark Bunnies: 1

"You're late," Ginny growled at her sidekick. "Come on, we've got things to do."

"Wait," Dean said. "You sold me to an old woman, how could you?"

"It was for justice," Ginny protested. "Are you saying you hate justice?"

"I'm not saying that," Dean screamed. "And I'm not going anywhere with you until you promise not to sell me to another old woman?"

"I promise," Ginny said with what appeared to be remorse. "Good enough?"

"Yeah," Dean said with a relieved smile. "Thanks."

"No problem, come on." A sinister grin appeared on her face as soon as the hapless boy turned his back, she'd never said anything about groups.

Dean shivered. "I just felt a sudden chill go up my spine."

"Must be your justice senses tingling," Ginny said with a smile. "We'd better hurry up."

"I guess," he said with uncertainty. "Are you sure it's my justice senses?"

"What else could it be?" Ginny asked with a frown. "Hurry up, justice doesn't wait."

"Ok," he agreed reluctantly. "Where are we going?"

"See that house with the red trim?"

"Yeah?"

"Count to ten and then burst through the front door," Ginny said firmly. "I'll be sneaking around the back and I'll need you to play your part or the mission could fail."

"Right," Dean agreed. "You can count on me."

"I knew I could," Ginny cooed. "Come on."

Dean stood in front of the door and counted to ten, then with a mighty roar he kicked the door open and jumped in. "Alright," he screamed. "Who wants to go first?" He looked around at the darkened figures as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Well?"

"How about me sonny boy?"

Quick as a cat, Dean sprang back and tried to go through the now closed and heavily warded door. "Oh god no," Dean sobbed. "No, why?"

"Well?" Ginny asked.

"I'll have the goblins transfer the money into your vault," the wrinkled old hag said with a toothless smile. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Remember," Ginny said. "You can keep him as long as you want but if you let him escape then I can't guarantee that I'll be able to set this up again."

"Teach your grandmother to suck eggs," she cackled.

"Actually," Ginny said with a smile. "My grandmother is sucking . . ."

"It's just an expression," the old woman interrupted. "You run along now."

"Bye bye."

IIIIIIIIII

Having two Dark Lords, and only one major shopping district in London, it was inevitable that Diagon alley would eventually be overbooked.

Ron had started his latest Diagon alley snuggle-fest from atop the roof of the owl emporium. He had finished the wide area lust field while Elizabeth and Gretchen finished up the inhibition lowering spell when the Death Eaters apparited in. They never got a spell off.

Ron immediately recast the lust field, concentrating on just the Death Eaters, and Elizabeth, on her own initiative started anti-apparition wards. Gretchen followed her friend's lead with a set of anti-portkey wards.

In retrospect, Macnair made a mistake in leading a squad of new Death Eaters into a lust zone. He had managed up until that point to ignore that none of them were wearing trousers, and the ass-less chaps had become familiar enough that he didn't think too much about it.

But you can't kiss through a Death Eater mask, so when the . . . . ahem, excited men arrived, masks, robes, and some assless chaps seemed to fly from the Death Eaters at an alarming rate. One overzealous new recruit removed Macnair's mask forcibly, and sucked Macnair's tongue into his mouth
before he could resist. This prompted him to try and escape, but the
wards prevented him from leaving.

Those Aurors in the area, who were memorizing unmasked Death Eater's faces were treated to the sight of an unmasked ministry Death Eater being chased by another unmasked Death Eater shouting "Snookybear!"

Unfortunately Macnair escaped, but not without losing his job, and a number of Death Eaters were rounded up by the Aurors. The headline of the Daily prophet the next morning read:

Dark Bunnies: 1
Death Eaters: Buggered

IIIIIIIIII

"Whats going on twin of mine?" Fred asked. "Minding the store?"

"Someone has to," George agreed. "Minding the Ministry?"

"Someone has to," Fred agreed.

"I've been thinking we could use our knowledge of the family spells to make some borderline adult wheezes."

"What did you have in mind?"

"We could make something called an orange creamsicle. I was thinking of an orange flavored popsicle shaped lollipop. While a woman is licking it, the orange flavor temporarily gives her a mild veela-like aura, and when the orange potion is consumed, there's a sudden burst of vanilla ice cream flavor and the holder of the popsicle is hit with a very brief Cunnus Instigo spell. What do you think?"

"We really should release something for the boys at the same time, you know."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. How about something in a package that's difficult to get the contents out of. Something that would require sticking your tongue or finger in to get the magical portion of the treat?"

"It's iffy. What should the wheeze do to the recipient?"

"Maybe Phamatis Fellat combined with a quarter inch of facial hair?"

"It's a start, I guess."

IIIIIIIIII

"Those bastards," Gretchen grumbled. "How dare they interrupt one of Master's attacks. They don't even follow the official Dark Lord."

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. "Their Dork Lord isn't fit to lick Master's boots."

"Or anything else of his."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That we should go lick master?"

"After that," Elizabeth said. "We need to plan another attack, one that will show the world who the Dark Lord is."

"Good idea Elizabeth," Gretchen congratulated her friend. "We can discuss it after we're done licking Master."

"Let's go."

IIIIIIIIII

"I quit," Dean screamed.

"What?" Ginny asked dully.

"I said I quit," Dean growled. "I'm not working with you anymore. Find yourself a new sidekick."

"Dean," Ginny began. "Why do you hate justice?"

"I don't hate justice," Dean replied.

"Cause you must hate justice and want little babies to get eaten by wolves if you're just going to walk away," Ginny continued. "I can't think of any other reason you'd stop being my sidekick."

"So the fact that you rented me out to a bunch of old ladies couldn't possibly have anything to do with it," Dean asked sarcastically. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"It saddens me to see a defender of justice fall so low," Ginny said with a fake tear sliding down her face. "Saddens me so."

"Forget it," Dean said. "See you in hell."

"You might not want to . . ." Ginny said as her former sidekick stormed away from her and into a familiar bar. "Oh well, hope they enjoy him." Ginny began walking away. "And on the plus side, I did deliver him over . . . I was getting worried about that."

Dean's muffled scream echoed behind her as she wandered off to check her bank account. Who knew that being a costumed vigilante paid so well?

IIIIIIIIII

Tonks stumbled back into her apartment and tried to ignore the sounds coming form down the hall. "Give it a rest will you?" She tried to yell back. "How in the hell can you two keep it up? It's not like . . . damn it."

Tonks got a quick shower and crawled into bed. "Earplugs, have to remember to buy earplugs tomorrow."

IIIIIIIIII

"Hey, this place says they have everything," one of the Dark Frat Boys said, looking at an owl-order catalogue that had come in with that morning's mail. "And that if they don't have it, they'll create it. And they've got this Ever-full Lemon-Drop Dish here. Maybe we should see if they can do an Ever-full Beer Keg?"

"Sure, why not?" one of the others replied, and the first quickly filled out an order form.

IIIIIIIIII

Fred blinked, looking at the owl-order form that had just come in. The handwriting was atrocious, but he was pretty sure... yeah, that's what it said. Shrugging, he called George over, and they were shortly deep in a discussion of what it would take to fill the order. They couldn't figure out what anyone would do with the requested item, but the money offered was worth the effort.

IIIIIIIIII

"YES," Ron cheered from his perch above Diagon Alley. "Dance my little puppets dance. Bwahahahahaha."

"Do you think Master's getting into this a bit more then usual?" Gretchen asked. "I mean, we don't usually stay around this long."

"I think he's just worried that the Death Wankers might try something again," Elizabeth replied. "You know how guilty Master would feel if anyone got hurt."

"True," Gretchen agreed. "Master is so noble."

"And handsome."

"And virile."

"And he has sooooo much stamina."

The two girls gave each other appraising looks. "Oooooh Master," they said together.

IIIIIIIIII

While no one had yet been hurt by a Dark Jeremy attack, barring a few cases of dehydration, a bystander pummled by a jealous husband and a few cases of permanent mental damage, the Aurors were not about to completely ignore the possibility that he might do something violent. So it was clear that he couldn't be completely ignored.

The Aurors needed a way to function during a Ron Jeremy attack. And since a number of Aurors wanted such protection for themselves and their loved ones, several of them devoted some time off the books to developing a charm to protect themselves.

They weren't having much luck; developing a counter to a specific spell is hard enough, but when the researchers could only see Ron's spells occasionally, and when the researchers decided to become snugglebunnies when they should have been testing their new defences, they didn't get far.

They did discover that a spell prepared to protect against a hypothetical dark lord's veela troops was partially successful. It allowed a strong-minded auror to resist, so long as they had a reason and desire to resist.

Even for the strongest of the Aurors, the protection would be useless in the wrong circumstances. For example if the area was otherwise peaceful (and with everyone else busy snogging it often would be) and confronted by a beloved wife or fiancee, even the most paranoid would give in.

But even with those restrictions, an auror could make use of the spell to insure that while a Ron Jeremy attack was going on, no one else would be injured. They could put out fires, stop fistfights, and call for backup.

Only Aurors who could manage this slight protection were assigned to the patrols in Diagon alley. They hadn't the manpower to try and apprehend Ron, but they could protect people from other damage, and collect information.

Which was why our favorite multifaced Auror was doing her level best to keep order and she was having more then a bit of difficulty in performing her Ministry assigned task for several reasons, not the least of which was that her partner had fled at the first sign of trouble. She didn't blame him, really she didn't since 'he' was following orders. For some reason Madame Bones didn't want a tentacle monster mixed in with the normal Diagon Alley Orgy as several papers had started calling it, something about bad publicity and budget cuts.

"Damn it," Tonks cursed as she sent another stunner into a wizard that had gotten a bit too close. "Why does this sort of thing always happen to me?" She looked around and amended herself. "Actually, why does this sort of thing never happen to me? Why can't I find anyone decent?"

IIIIIIIIII

Dean huddled in his room crying as he thought back to his last . . . experience. Why did this sort of thing always happen to him? What made him so irresistible to those in their golden years?

"Bloody magic," he sobbed. "Why can it do everything except protect me from this?" His eyes opened and a smile appeared on his face. "Why can't magic protect me from this?" He asked himself. "I could . . . I could make a spell or take a potion to keep women away from me." Cheered up, he opened a book and began researching. "Or better yet, change it so I'm irresistible to young hot chicks yeah."

IIIIIIIIII

"Auror Tonks! I received word that you were caught in the latest attack by the Dark Lord Jeremy."

"Yes Director Bones. It was," she paused, trying to put her thoughts into words, "erotic during the event but disturbing afterward."

"Were you violated? Do you need to see the healers?"

"No, I'm alright, Director. Thank you for your concern. I was protected from the worst of it."

"What!?! The unspeakables have been trying for weeks to get a counter to his dark powers."

"It wasn't a spell or anything. I was just. . . protected."

"And what, pray tell, protected you?"

Tonks looked around the office. She and director Bones were the only ones there. She quickly pulled up her robes for a moment, and let them drop again.

Tonks looked away, embarrassed. "I don't even want to speculate why my mother has a collection of jewel encrusted chastity belts. At least this one had a working lock."

"I . . . see? Uh, carry on Auror Tonks."

"One more thing ma'am" Tonks said.

"What is it?"

"The reports we got about the attacks weren't exactly true," Tonks said. "The charms didn't compel me do anything, just sort of . . . put me in the mood and take away fear of rejection."

"Good work, dismissed."

"Yes Madame Bones."

AN: The ongoing list of people that contributed to this fic without whom, it would not have been nearly as good . . . one might go so far as to say it would be quite bad: nonjon, Ed Becerra, ausfinbar, David Wangen, neil.reynolds, Ben Russell-Gough, dogbertcarroll, hattenjc, the caitiff, AlanP, Lone Wolf, meteoricshipyards, Shawn Pickett, Morris Rague, luinlothana, Treck, Drake, David Brown, Moshehim, Arthur Hansen, Marneus Calgar, Goblin214, Chris LeBron, khadon99, Shawn Pickett, tekobaka, Freddie, Musings of Apathy, Brian Arcis, Shalon Wood, Fenris, Pelel, Andrew Joshua Talon, shinji the good sharer, and everyone on my yahoo group. They gave me scenes, ideas, and all sorts of other things. Tell me if I missed you so I can add to this list. Another thanks goes to meteoricshipyards who wrote the majority of the continuing adventures of the tentacle monster as well as several others. Anything I wrote on that sub plot was fairly minor so kudos. And still another goes to neil.reynolds who wrote a large number of scenes. Yet another goes to The Resident who was good enough to do a bit of editing and caught several of my mistakes.