Disclaimer: What we have here is a selection of scenes from fics that were abandoned for one reason or another. In other words, don't expect too much. (Unless you're expecting poor quality and disjointed prose, then you can expect as much as you like).

Failed Fics and Abandoned Ideas

Warning: This fic contains . . .

Ritual Abuse

It was the third thursday of December, which meant of course that most of the students were home on holiday and the house elves were doing laundry.

"Harry Potter sir has an extra sock," Dobby squealed in delight. "This means that Dobby gets to keep it for hisself." And in return Dobby had promised to stop watching Harry sleep.

"Yoink." The sock was snatched from Dobby's fingers. "This'll look great in my shrine," Colin announced.

A sneer appeared on the house elf's face as he regarded his opponent. "Dobby want's to know, does bitch wish to dance?"

"Bring it," Colin growled. It was time to rumble.

The elf hit his larger opponent square in the groin with a one two, followed by another left, and finished off with a devastating uppercut to the left testicle. Colin learned a valuable lesson that day, never fight someone eye level with your genitals without some form of protection.

"Dobby is winner and all time champion!" The little elf cheered, his sock clutched in his victorious fist.

"Gurgle," Colin replied, still curled up in a fetal position.

"Dobby is off to clean the room of victory," the house elf announced.

For those that don't know, the 'room of victory' was a massive storage space filled with a thousand years of dust covered junk that was impossible to keep clean through any means, magical or mundane. House elves far and wide came to Hogwarts to commemorate important events and achievements by spending hours removing tons and tons of encrusted dust from valuable historic artifacts. In short, it was the closest thing to heaven for a house elf on earth.

A smile on his face and a song in his heart, Dobby disappeared for an hour in heaven. This caused a smile to bloom on Colin's face as the boy came to the realization that he was all alone with Harry Potter's unguarded underwear, looks like that shrine was going to be getting a new centerpiece after all.

Dobby paused forty five minutes into his cleaning session to examine a book he'd found locked in an old desk. It was a book of rituals and as the little elf had heard Harry Potter state that he needed to study rituals to catch up with his nemesis, Dobby made the difficult decision to forgo the last fifteen minutes of cleaning in favor of getting the book to Harry Potter as soon as possible. Decision made, Dobby disappeared with a pop.

The little elf found Harry sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room's most comfortable chair in front of the fire place.

"What's up, Dobby?" Harry asked with a lazy smile on his face.

"Dobby has found a book of rituals for Harry Potter sir, Harry Potter sir," the house elf explained.

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said with a smile, having a vague memory of having decided that he needed to study ritual.

"The great and mighty Harry Potter sir is praising Dobby!" He squealed. "Oh, happy day. Dobby must go tell the other house elves."

"You do that," Harry agreed as his odd little friend disappeared.

At first, Harry planned to do what he always did when he needed to get information out of a book which was to give it to Hermione and let her deal with it. Unfortunately the girl was off doing something with her parents for the holidays and the chair he was sitting in was really comfortable which prevented his owling it to her. Resolving to have her friend deal with the matter later, Harry opened the book to flip through it and froze when he saw the first ritual in the book.

It was a dream come true, a ritual that would allow him to pass his History NEWTs with high marks, it was a ritual that granted the ability to sleep in class and learn everything the teacher lectured on that day.

"Hermione must never learn of this," Harry whispered, almost afraid that the girl would appear despite the fact that she was miles away, knowing that she would stop at nothing to prevent him from gaining what she would see as an unfair advantage.

The ritual wasn't a difficult one; all he needed was an old quill, some coals from the fire, a chicken leg, and thirty minutes of chanting.

It may have been the first ritual Harry performed during winter holidays, it would most certainly not be the last.

IIIIIIIIII

Meanwhile, at the Dark Lord's Dark Lair . . .

"Lucius, how go your plans with the Ministry?" Voldemort purred.

"They go well, my Lord," Lucius replied, edging back a bit.

"Wonnnnnnderful." Voldemort stretched out. "Severus, how go your plans at the school?"

"As well as can be expected in light of the fact that I have to get things past the old fool, my lord," Snape answered, glad that he'd thought to smear his upper lip with peppermint oil.

"Excellent."

IIIIIIIIII

Back at the stately Weasley residence, Ron was having a heart to heart with his father. It was a conversation he'd regret having till his dyeing day.

"Son," Arthur began, putting a fatherly hand on Ron's shoulder. "I'm going to give you the same advice I gave your older brothers when they came of age."

"Yeah, dad?"

"Don't go down to the Hogs Head on Friday nights because you'll run into Dumbledore and Snape, then Dumbledore will suggest that you come back to the castle with him so you can take turns pounding Professor Snape's 'tight butt' and you have no idea how awkward it gets the next morning when you come home and you wife asks you to explain where you were all night."

"What?"

"Err . . . I said you have no idea how awkward it gets when you say no and have to explain to your wife what happened," Arthur said nervously.

"Kinda ruins the point of sleeping through class, doesn't it?" Ron asked with a frown. "Don't think I'd enjoy it if I knew I'd be learning something."

IIIIIIIIII

While Ron was getting severely traumatized, Harry was in the Forbidden Forest completing his second ritual.

IIIIIIIIII

"Do you think it's because the master doesn't have a nose?" One of the Death Eaters asked the other.

"I don't know. Do you think there's a way we could subtly teach the master a few dozen personal hygiene charms?"

IIIIIIIIII

"Hey, Harry. How bout a little vitamin A?" Dean asked, holding up a bottle of Gin.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry looked down at the business card the small blond girl had handed him.

"Luna Lovegood: Super Genius," he read aloud.

"It has come to my attention that you are engaged in the practice of performing performance enhancing rituals," the small blond said in a monotone. "I have come to offer my aid, support, and participation."

"Huh?"

"You're doing rituals, I wanna help and do it too," Luna explained.

"You won't tell, Hermione?"

"Not until after she figures it out or someone else rats you out first," Luna agreed.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry gets a thick oak wizard staff, it has two large orbs on the top of it.

"Why does your wizard staff have ba . . ." Hermione trailed off when she noticed the look of expectation on Harry's face. "Spheres on the top of it?"

"Those are my big brass orbs of power," Harry replied.

"Harry, I want you to know that you're my best friend," Hermione sighed.

"But?"

"But I really hate you sometimes," the girl finished.

"Will you help me polish my staff?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Oh yeah," Harry moaned. "That's it, just rub the oil into the shaft."

Gets a wig for his staff

Dr. Strange Lovegood

"Doctor?" Hermione asked.

"In Journalism from Cardiff, in Cryptozoology from Miskatonic, and in Political Thaumaturgy from IOU," Luna's father replied absently.

"But . . . but . . ." the girl sputtered.

"But what?"

"You run the Quibbler, why aren't you doing the real news?"

He held up a hand to forestal the angry retort his daughter was about to make. "Why don't you take a look at something for me?" he grabbed a slim newspaper from his desk and handed it to the girl. "Turn to page three."

"This is a tabloid," Hermione protested. "They're . . ."

"Page three," he commanded.

"Fine," she huffed. "But I still don't see what . . ."

"Interesting, isn't it?"

"How'd they find this out?" Hermione demanded.

"Your guess is as good as mine, I've been trying for years to figure out their sources. Hermione, truth is an onion. For every layer you reveal, there's always another waiting to be lifted. You're muggle born, are you not?"

"Yes."

"What would you have told someone that insisted magic was real before you got your letter?"

"So everything in the Quibbler is real?" Hermione mumbled in shock.

"That is one thing that you will have to determine yourself," he said kindly. "All the Quibbler is, is a record of some of the facts I've managed to ferret out. Are they true or just crumbs dropped to lead me astray? Well, that's something I'd badly like to know myself."

Front Page News

Luna skipped over to the Gryffindor table and collapsed onto the bench next to Harry and Hermione.

"Hello, Harry Potter," she greeted her friend.

"Hello, Luna Lovegood," Harry returned.

Luna pulled a rolled copy of the Daily Prophet out from under her arm. "Why is there a picture of you peeing on Draco's mum on the front page?"

"Because they decided to put the picture of me buggering her on page three," Harry replied calmly.

"Oh." Luna opened up the paper to look only to have it snatched out of her hands by Hermione. "That was rude," she said with a frown. "I'd have given it to you after I was done with it."

"Why are there pictures of you having sex with Narcissa Malfoy in the Daily Prophet?" Hermione demanded shrilly.

"Best birthday present ever, Harry," Ron happily as he sat down on the bench. "Thanks."

"I said I'd get you anything and I always keep my promises," Harry said modestly.

"You know, Harry," Luna began slyly. "My birthday is coming up too."

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

"Pictures of Luna Lovegood loosing her virginity to Harry Potter on the front page of the Quibbler," the blond said eagerly.

"Luna," Hermione gasped.

"Let's see what we can do about that after class today," Harry agreed.

"Harry?" Hermione squeaked. "Uh . . . my birthday's coming up too," she mumbled.

Break Dancing

"Harry is my friend and you treated him rather badly," Luna said with a frown. "I'm quite displeased with you."

"Ms. Lovegood you must understand that . . ."

"I must show you exactly how displeased I am," Luna mused, "and the best way to do that is with an interpretive dance."

A few minutes later, a badly beaten and bleeding Dumbledore looked around his shattered office. "What kind of dancing was that?"

"Break dancing."

Bush Pilot

Hermione felt a spike of adrenaline in her heart as she hopped off off the last rung of the stairs and onto the tarmac. Stepping aside to allow the other passengers by, she took in a deep lung full of the clean Arctic air.

"Hermione!" A familiar male voice called out, causing the girl's eyes to widen.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed. She rushed forward and threw herself into her friend's arms. "How'd you get them to let you onto the runway?"

"I'm tied down a hundred meters away," Harry replied, spinning the girl around. "Mine's the orange and white one with the propeller."

IIIIIIIIII

"What's that digging into my hip, Harry?"

"Maybe I'm just happy to see you?" He teased, loosing his grip.

"Harry!" she squealed. "Language."

"I'm not sure what you mean," he said innocently. "Was there something dirty about that statement?"

"Why are you wearing a gun?" Hermione gasped, shocked to see a pistol on her friend's hip.

"Mostly because of bears and moose, got another in the plane for the same reason. The bear like to hassle fishermen and to steal kills from hunters, the moose are a ton of bad attitude when the mood takes them, and we're small and crunchy and taste good with catsup," he explained.

"Why are they letting you have it here in the airport?"

"This is Alaska, I'm a pilot, and they know me," Harry laughed. "Let's get your bags stowed and then we can do a bit of shopping before heading to my cabin. You can have about three hundred pounds all together."

"Huh?"

"You, your luggage, and anything you want from the store can weigh three hundred or so pounds. People are good about minding their own business out here but I think it's best not to rub their noses in magic use. Speaking of which, don't count on your wand till you get back home or you've spent a few months here."

"Why not?"

"Spells go a bit wonky till you get the hang of them, further north you go the worse it gets. Think it has something to do with whatever causes the northern lights, not sure though. It's why you had to take a plane rather than a portkey. Transportation magic doesn't work at all up here most of the time and shouldn't be used when it does, less you're willing to risk loosing bits every time you nip down to the corner market."

"Oh. I don't need to get anything, we can leave right away," Hermione replied.

"Be a good idea to go shopping anyway, less of course you want to annoy Hedwig."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"She absolutely refuses to fly with me and she also insisted on coming here to meet you herself, we leave before she gets . . ." Harry shook his head. "It wouldn't be good. I'm willing to bet that we can convince her to ride back with us, tell her you want a chance to catch up."

IIIIIIIIII

"Why did you decide to come here anyway?" Hermione asked.

"Lots of reasons; the fact that it's bloody beautiful is the first, the fact that it's hard for people to use magic to drop in is another, the fact that their magic goes wonky while mine works just fine is a third, the fact that I couldn't stay in England without loosing my bloody mind, the wide open spaces after growing up in a bloody cupboard, and Hedwig is the last. Was going to go to Africa but the bloody bird refused to go somewhere so hot, insisted we move some place with a 'comfortable' climate, and here we are."

IIIIIIIIII

"You're safe as I can make you back home. Made a little trip to let Malfoy and the Minister know how distraught I'd be if so much as a hair on your head went out of place

IIIIIIIIII

"Why here? Why not Canada?"

"British government has too much influence with the Canadians, which wouldn't be a problem but Malfoy's got too much influence with the British government. Well, that and the fact that local law enforcement doesn't give a damn if I wipe out a team of trespassing ex-death eaters."

"They don't?"

"Nope, don't even bother investigating after the fifth time it happened either. Be a bit different in Canada."

AN: So here we have a few of the failed fics on my HD. May put up a collection of scenes at some point to clear up some space, may not.