In the previous installment of this story...
Still, Harry couldn't help but be happy about the impromptu fight. While the girls were clearly insane, he had finally –through an incredibly long and drawn out plot device– learned a new spell.
Raising his wand, Harry took aim and carefully said, "Stupefy!"
...and the jet of red light that sprung from the tip of the wand hit its mark.
It was chaos in the Great Hall. Everything became a blur of red and the female population forgot about the sparkling faggot that slumped uselessly against the wall in a corner. The teachers tried to restore order, but the sheer amount of stunners flying around was too much for them to handle alone.
The male portion of Hogwarts could've helped cool tempers all around, but it seemed most were content to just sit back out of range and conjure mud over the women. Harry even saw a few snacking on crisps while they watched, their lips stretched into smiles of delight.
"Take that, whore!"
Harry ducked a particularly vicious stunner and dropped under the Gryffindor table. There he found Neville and Ron, both grinning like idiots as they tried to take peeks under the females' skirts. Harry joined.
"Nice," Neville commented. "Oh, look at that one! No knickers!"
Ron whistled appreciatively. "And clean shaven, too!"
Distracted by the fantastic anatomy an eleven-year-old isn't supposed to enjoy, Harry quickly lost sight of Hagrimort. It just went to show how incompetent Voldemort was. Had he thought his scheme through he would've realized the way to go about possessing someone was taking hold of a crack-whore from the red district. Judging by the looks of rapture on Neville, Ron and Harry's faces, clean shaven would've been a nice touch, too.
"What would you guys do with one of those?" Harry asked.
Ron licked his lips and said, "I would play chess on it."
Simultaneously Neville replied, "Trim the bush, dig in with my tools and plant a seed."
Harry cast wary glances at both of them, but Neville and Ron were too far gone to notice. He slowly backed away, not wanting to be told just what their deepest fantasies meant.
He crawled away, presumably in the direction to the exit. Red lights and screams of "Eat this, bitch!" and "I will end your shit!" rang in his years. There was a particularly shrill cry of "Potter! Insufferable brat!" that Harry thought was Snape, but he wisely ignored it and kept moving.
Before he could reach the end of the table the noise ceased abruptly. The last few stunners crashed harmlessly against the walls and the Great Hall was plunged into silence. Harry peeked out from under the table, and amidst the sea of unconscious females lying on the floor and those still standing, most of them completely covered in mud, there was one Severus Snape.
He had been engorged somehow. Snape was easily two times taller than Hagrimort, who was conspicuously missing, and the front of the potion master's robes were open, his grey underwear around his ankles. With a look of bliss on his face Snape was pumping his obscenely large erection, and as everybody shrieked in disgust Harry turned and heaved, and the world turn upside down, and...
...Harry opened his eyes with a start, his breath coming out in heavy pants. Everything was white and he realized he was in the Hospital Wing, and that Snape's grotesque dick had been just a nightmare.
He had probably been stunned right when the impromptu battle started. On one hand, that meant Snape had never grown to retarded proportions and masturbated in the Great Hall, but on the other, all of it being just a dream meant his subconscious had cooked that one up.
He turned to the side and came face to face with a sparkling Edward, who was watching him with a slightly lustful look on his face, lips parted into a half-moan and eyes lidded.
"The hell...?"
"I like watching you sleep," teh Sparkling Hufflepuff said softly. "It's kind of fascinating to me."
Harry's eyes widened.
"FUUUUUUUUU-"
Startled, Madam Pomphrey came over and ordered a couple of seventh years to take the vampire to her office. "And tie him up, boys," she added as they dragged Cedward away. "We wouldn't want him to bother other patients. I'll deal with him later." She fanned herself at the thought.
The drama over, Harry was changing into his regular robes when Hermione and Ron showed up. She was suspiciously bruised around her forehead and arms, and her lips were rather swollen.
"Hey, guys," Harry said. "What's going on?"
"Oh, honestly, Harry!" Hermione cried.
"What?"
She huffed.
Harry turned to Ron. "You alright?"
"Wicked, mate," Ron said. "Bloody hell."
Harry frowned at them. "What's wrong with you two?"
"With us? Wrong with us?" Hermione exclaimed shrilly. "Honestly, Harry. You can't ignore how you feel. It's perfectly normal to miss him. We miss Sirius, too, you know, and –"
"Who's Sirius?"
"– I know he wouldn't like to see you like this." She leaned forward and grabbed his hands tenderly. Harry noted she felt kind of sticky. "Let us help you, Harry. I'm sure Sirius would agree."
"No, seriously," Harry said seriously. "Who the fuck is Sirius? Ha! Get it? Serious!"
The whole Hospital Wing turned and said, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Harry glared at them. People never understood his jokes. He dropped back on the bed with a heavy sigh. It would be one of those day, a long, mind-fuckeringly weird day. He could feel it. He realized that if he knew more spells he'd be able to get out of this one, perhaps spend the day doing something he enjoyed.
When Gilderoy "the pussy licking Zombie" Lockhart entered the wing, Harry had an idea.
Ron chose that moment to ask if he wanted to play some chess, to which Harry shuddered, remembering the dream. He got up. Hermione kept spewing bullshit out of her mouth, but he wasn't listening to her anymore.
Harry called Lockhart, the most awesome, most badass wizard since Merlin Norris, and begged him to teach him a new spell.
Harry didn't miss the look Lockhart gave Hermione as he scratched his groin, nor the way Hermione licked her swollen lips. But in his mind, Harry was envisioning powerful curses and insanely difficult pieces of transfigurations, and had little time for anything else.
"Ah, Harry, my dear boy," Lockhart said grandly. He was so awesome. "What is it that you wish to learn? I could teach you how to...why, I could teach you anything! Just ask away, Harry, ask away."
"I...I want," Harry said indecisively. Thousands of cool enchantments ran through his mind. Finally he looked up, his face a mask of determination, and said, "I want to learn how to kill a Basilisk."
Lockhart blinked. And blinked again.
"A Basilisk?" he repeated awesomely. "Now why would you be worried about such things?"
"I don't know," Harry said. "But I have a feeling it'll be important soon."
"Alright then. Any preferred methods?"
Harry thought about it. "No, not really," he said. "Just not with Gryffindor's sword."
"Yeah," Lockhart said wisely. "That'd be retarded."
They said goodbye to Ron and Hermione and left.
In a not very distant office, in the same castle...
Heavy footsteps hammered the stone staircase. The door to Dumbledore's office was slammed open and Snape strode in, his cloak billowing behind him. Smugly, he cried, "Ten points from Gryffindor."
Dumbledore stood up from behind his desk. His face was grim and foreboding. "You shouldn't have come here tonight, Severus," he said calmly. "The Aurors are on their way."
"By which time I shall be gone, and you – wait, what?"
Unnoticed by them, Fawkes slapped its forehead with a golden wing and the portraits that lined the walls banged their heads against the frames that bound them.
Snape ignored the confusing words of the Headmaster and instead said incredulously, "You survived? I heard your spine break!"
Dumbledore smiled benevolently and sat down, gesturing for Snape to do so as well. "It does not do to dwell on dreams," he said, "lest we forget to live."
Snape nodded dumbly, impressed by the Headmaster's wise words. But before he could say anything someone cleared his throat.
From one of the high shelves, the Sorting Hat leaned forward, so that it was looking down at the two wizards that regarded it politely. It opened its brim wide and spoke.
"Yo, Albus, I'm really happy for you, I'mma let you finish... but Hagrimort had one of the best resurrections of all time...OF ALL TIME!"
Fawkes trilled his agreement.
Snape stood up and furiously spat, "How dare you! Twenty points from Gryff –"
But the Hat silenced him with a non-eyed glare. It twitched awkwardly and a strange, long object fell on Dumbledore's desk, right in front of the venerable Headmaster.
"Yo, dawg," the Hat began, "I heard you like dildos, so I –"
"ENOUGH! Dumbledore called imperiously. "Do not disrespect me, Hat. This is Hogwarts...AND I RUN THIS SHIT!"
Fawkes, the poor, neglected Phoenix had had enough. He spread his wings, dropped a piece of shit on his Master's head and flew out the window. He needed a new Master, preferably one who didn't try to wipe his old, shrivelled ass with his delicate feathers.
The portraits inside the office watched the bird fly away with jealous looks on their faces.
(contributed by IdSayWhyNot)