FicWad

After reading wimvincken, and while reading The Scribbler's versions of Triangle Disease, an idea popped in my head about a humorous kind of End of Voldemort spin off. It's a what if situation that asks what happens if Harry wasn't a virgin. I have received permission from the original author to do this.

This is the actual e-mail he sent when I pitched my idea, and isn’t that quote just priceless...
-That is indeed a very good one. But I am done with writing triangle things for the time being. Why don't you try?

P. J. O'Rourke - "If government were a product, selling it would be illegal."-

Disclaimer: I’m out of my medicine, out of my mind, and I want in yours...LET ME IN DAMN YOU!!!

A/N: Chronological numbers signify flashbacks and endings of flashbacks. I was thinking of making this Luna’s entry into Different Strokes, but decided against that.

888

Harry sighed loudly as he looked between his friends- who were looking at him uncomfortably, and the near comatose form of Draco Malfoy. Given the recent events, regardless of the fact that Luna had helped him immensely, he had not been in the mood for the blonde’s games. Had Malfoy just stayed away from him, everything would have been fine; but no, he couldn’t even do that. He had then tried to give the idiot a warning, but still the stubborn bastard showed his inbred stupidity. It had all started with the interruption of a very nice nap.

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“Well if it isn’t the reject club.” Malfoy spat, slamming the door opened. “A squib, a lunatic, a mudblood, and two blood traitors. All led by a pathetic halfblood who got his little mutt killed.”

“We may be a squib, a lunatic, a mudblood, two blood traitors, and a pathetic halfblood,” Harry started. “But we beat your dad, and a bunch of his friends, so what does that make them?” Ron and Neville smirked.

“Why you...” Malfoy growled drawing his wand. Harry suddenly turned cold eyes on the inbred idiot.

“Listen you little git.” Harry sneered. “I’ve survived five encounters with your father’s master in some form or another. The first three times I won, and the most recent two were draws. In the last one, I even severely injured him. I have not been in the best of moods since your aunt killed my godfather, so pissing me off right now is a very bad idea. Given my extreme dislike of your entire immediate family, and much of your extended family, it’s not out of the realm of possibility for me to pretend that you’re her. Trust me when I say, you don’t want that.” Standing, Harry looked Malfoy right in the eye. “My advice to you, is to leave before you force me to do something that I might possibly regret.” Malfoy gave him a superior sneer. “Wipe that look off your face. The only reason that I’d regret it, is because you aren’t actually her.” Harry growled, shoving him out of the compartment. Taking offense to being manhandled, Malfoy made a mistake that would cost him dearly. He began to wave his wand to cast a curse at Harry. Faster than anyone could track, Harry had drawn his wand, and retaliated. Now in this case, there are some particulars that one should know. As Harry was casting his own spell, he felt a stab of pain surge through his scar. That moment of missed concentration caused Harry to loose control over his magic. Hence the situation that followed.

“Depulso!” Harry called. What should have been a simple banishing charm, became so much more. As soon as the spell left his lips, there was a loud bang, and Draco was thrown into the wall of the hallway with such force that it left spidering cracks up to two and a half feet in length. Malfoy was out before he hit the floor, and given the severe concussion, that wasn’t exactly a good thing.

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Deciding to just ignore his friends for the moment, Harry returned to his seat, and went back to his nap.

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Meanwhile...

In the drawing room of an opulent manor house in Wiltshire, stood a tall man in black robes. The man’s skin was bone white, yet shone with an ethereal glow in the low candle light of the chandelier. His face, which was surprisingly uncovered, was serpentine, with slit nostrils, and snake-like red eyes. Long, spider like fingers loosely clutched his wand as he held it on the pile of filth on the floor. He stopped the spell, already feeling his body starting to weaken. Ever since that blasted boy broke his possession, he found himself facing bouts of exhaustion if he used his magic for too long. While his healer had guaranteed that the affect was only temporary, it was still enough to change his plans. Where he should have been killing the Interim Minister Amelia Bones, he knew that a duel with her in his current condition could prove disastrous (0). Aurors like her and Moody were a different breed than the dribble that had resulted from Bagnold and Fudge’s Ministerial Terms. As it was, he had been forced to move up the plan for Potter that wasn’t scheduled until the brat’s birthday. Tom pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, returning his attention to the pile of rags.

“I have been patient with you long enough.” The man spat in a high, cold voice. “Get me my locket, or you will feel the true wrath of Lord Voldemort.” The pile of rags wheezed, before pleading for his life. “Get me what I want, this is your last chance. Now be gone from my presence, your odor is starting to sink into the fabric.” The pile of filthy rags stood shakily, and fled from the room. Once he was gone, the powerful wizard cast numerous freshening charms on the room, before removing his own bubblehead charm. His nose still twitched at the remnant of the odorous man. Suddenly, another man in dark robes entered the room, his white blond hair groomed with far more care than any man’s should be. Aristocratic features sneered at the lingering odor, but returned to their placating features as he entered his Master’s immediate presence.

“My Lord, forgive a fool, but was it necessary to bring him here?” Red eyes narrowed, yet softened minutely.

“Remember your place, Lucius...you do not question me.” Voldemort growled. “Yet...I do agree that he will not be returning. I do not do this often, but I will ask your forgiveness for bringing such filth into your home.” The slit nostrils then turned into what could be a sneer. “How the old fool can stand that foul odor, I will never know. Do you have what I asked for?” The man bowed, before presenting the man with an ornate ring with a fancy ‘S’ engraved on the stone.

“It was not easy to get, milord, even with instructions of how to bypass your wards.” He said. “Your gift with magic truly knows know bounds.”

“No need to flatter me Lucius.” The man said. “Tell Bellatrix that I need her to make a special withdrawal from Gringotts. She will know what it means. Dismissed.”

“Yes, my lord.” As the man was turning to leave, his master called him back.

“Crucio!” Voldemort snarled. “Never think that I will easily forgive how you allowed by diary to be destroyed.” As he held the curse, he made a sudden snap decision. Releasing the curse, he strolled over, and clutched Lucius’ arm. Pressing his wand to the Dark Mark, he concentrated on one of the followers in the house, and ordered them to tail the filthy man. ‘Once he has the locket, eliminate him, and bring it back to me. Do not fail me, or the consequences will be dire.’

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A month later...

“Now my faithful, the moment is at hand.” Voldemort spoke, as he stepped onto a point of the massive pentagram drawn in blood in the middle of the floor. “Weeks of work will now culminate in ultimate victory. The thorn in my side; the brat that- thanks to the old fool- eluded me at the Ministry, shall meet his end. Potter is supposedly the only one who can vanquish me...yet in 48 hours, he will be dead; the magical world will fall shortly after. Bring forth the sacrifices.” As soon as this was said, four items were placed at each of the remaining points. At one point was an ornate marble cup with golden trim; a badger could be made out curled up as if asleep. At another point was a locket with a stylized ‘S’ on it. The third point was occupied by a ring with the same insignia; making it obvious that both had belonged to the same family. The last point was the most crucial. A young man sat, kneeling and unmoving. The young man was a random muggle snatched off the streets, as this sacrifice could not be tainted or imbued by magic. All over the boy’s body were lines of intricately detailed runes, carved into the flesh. With a look around to see that everything was set, Voldemort began.

Snape watched in morbid fascination as the man chanted in an ancient dialect; Egyptian if he was right about that last word. As the man cast what he was sure was an extremely powerful and difficult piece of magic, he was near doubtless that the Dark Lord would win this war. Even still, if there was a grain of hope, he would play his role as double agent. Regardless of what either of his masters thought, Snape was in for self, and survival. Snape continued to watch in awe, until the wizard sneered the last word of his chant, ‘Love’, before intoning the incantation to complete the ritual.

“Trigonum Morbus!” The snake man spat, pointing his wand at the center of the pentagram. There was a surge of power, and a bright flash...then the Dark Lord collapsed to his knees. Bellatrix was at his side in an instant, helping him to his feet, and back over to his throne. He also noticed that the woman was making no attempts to hide her blatant groping of their master. Once he’d regained his breath, he began to bark orders. “Wormtail, clean this mess up.” The rat scurried to work. “Severus and Bellatrix stay, the rest of you are dismissed.” Once everyone had gone, he spoke.

“Bellatrix, when I am done here, you will help me to my chambers, and bathe me.” Snape saw the woman’s eyes go wide and fill with lust, before she shuddered violently. Were one to look, they’d have seen a viciously thick liquid trailing down her legs. Both men inwardly shuddered, for they didn’t need to see the liquid to know that the dark witch had creamed herself...they could smell the very pungent evidence. Pushing that to the back of his mind- although very wary of how long his bath would take with Bellatrix trying to savor every moment the action, and creaming herself every few seconds- Voldemort addressed his other servant. “Severus, I asked you to stay, because I want you to deliver a message to the old fool.” Voldemort’s grin was nothing short of sadistic.

“My lord?” Snape asked.

“Offer the old chap my condolences in his time of grieving.” Had he not feared a Cruciatus from the man, Snape would have laughed at the humorously dark irony. The man was a sick, evil bastard for sure, but no one could ever deny that he was brilliant. “Feel free to tell him about the curse, for there is nothing that can save the boy now.” Given the age and obscurity of the ritual, he knew that information was scarce. While the curse had been used as recent as a century ago, the full ritual hadn’t been used since before the founding of Hogwarts. The only people old enough to be even passingly familiar with it would be the recently deceased Flamels, and he doubted the old man had seen a need to include that in Dumbledore’s apprentice training.

“As you wish.” Voldemort dismissed him, and Snape was glad to be away from the man and his psycho. The glazed over look in that crazy bitch’s eyes was one he hoped to never have directed towards him. That kind of fanaticism led to fatal attractions. Snape was sure that had she felt threatened by anyone receiving the Dark Lord’s affection over her, said person would have found themselves accident prone.

Severus made his way swiftly towards the Malfoy sitting room, where with a flash of green flames, he was transported to his office. A quick trip to the Headmaster’s office, and a granted entrance, Snape was ready to give an Oscar worthy performance. While yes, he’d prefer Dumbledore’s side to win, he honestly didn’t care.

“Headmaster, I bring grave news.” Just as he suspected, the old man dropped whatever it was he was working on, and gave his full attention. “The Dark Lord has gone on the offensive, but in a rather unusual way.”

“Do explain.” Dumbledore requested, popping one of his drugged lemon drops.

“Towards the end of the year, the Dark Lord was finalizing plans to rid himself of both you and the Minister.” He informed. “He was going to use one of his followers, a new recruit still attending Hogwarts, to instigate your death. Then he was going to pay a visit to Minister Bones’ home himself. Like the Potters, none but his Inner Circle could have succeeded, and he didn‘t wish to risk even that going wrong.” Dumbledore adopted a grave look. “His plans changed after the Ministry episode, and he has just revealed what that was. Instead of going after you and Bones, he decided to go after who he deemed the biggest threat.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore said absently. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, I will...”

“It gets worse.” Snape interrupted. “He’s already made his move. I don’t know what it does, but he used one of the most powerful rituals I’ve ever seen. The only thing I’m really sure of, is the spell he used at the end...Trigonum Morbus.” The Headmaster’s face paled, and he suddenly looked every one of his 100+ years. With an almost negligent flick of his wand, one of the silver instruments began to rapidly emit red smoke. In several different offices, the room began to flash red.

“Severus, I need you do me a favor, while I floo Molly and Arthur.”

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The atmosphere in the Headmaster’s Office an hour later, was a somber one. Sitting around a table were the Hogwarts Heads of Houses, minus Snape who had been sent on an errand, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Interim Minister Amelia Bones.

“Is the source of this information to be trusted, Albus?” Professor McGonagall asked. Albus Dumbledore looked briefly into space, before he addressed McGonagall.

“I am afraid this information is indeed correct, Minerva. Voldemort has performed a very ancient ritual that could have grave results if not fixed. The only reason we even know what we‘re dealing with, is Severus remembering the incantation used at the end...Trigonum Morbus.”

“What are we dealing with?” Flitwick asked. “With a name like Trigonum Morbus, it can‘t be good.”

“The Trigonum Morbus curse is part of a ritual created thousands of years ago in Egypt, back when Egypt was still divided into the Upper and Lower Kingdoms. It‘s main function was to find a person’s true love. The Egyptians were well versed in the many ways love could enhance and amplify magic, and used it regularly. The use of this ritual fell out of practice, because should one desire another’s spouse, even if only with lustful intentions, the spell would show them as one of the best candidates. The strife caused by many of the spell’s less than wholesome matchings, is where many of the Dark Arts we fear today came from.” Dumbledore paused in thought for a moment. “I do not know how Voldemort found this curse, as knowledge of it is scarce. I am only aware of it from my time apprenticing under Nicholas Flamel. It would seem that after learning of its side effects, Tom has decided to perform the ritual immediately and watch the results from afar. I have my doubts as to whether he had all of the pertinent information, but any way to harm Harry with little chance of harming himself would seem like a worthy risk. As a result, we now have a problem that we need to cope with, and fast.

“Albus, what does this mean?” McGonagall asked. “From what I can tell, this doesn’t seem so bad. Aside from the fact that Tom knowing Harry’s true loves could mean they’ll be in danger of being attacked, I don‘t see a problem.”

“The first problem, is that Harry has 48 hours to find his true loves from the time the ritual is performed. Second, the curse will duplicate itself to two others, Harry’s supposed loves...they also have 48 hours to find Harry.” Amelia frowned.

“Minerva is right, I still don’t see the problem.” Amelia said.

“When the 48 hours are over, the victims will die when their magical cores explode.” Now they saw the problem. Everyone started to talk, some in panic, some in indignation, and some of them confused.

“What‘s going on here, Headmaster?” Amelia interjected herself. “I thought Potter was hidden and protected during the summer months, and that nothing could hurt the boy?”

“You are correct, Amelia. Nothing can harm the boy in that location during the summer months, except for the Trigonum Morbus. Nothing and no one can be hidden from that curse.”

“Could you be more specific, Albus?” Amelia asked, somewhat irritated.

“Yes, of course, Amelia.” He replied. “The Trigonum Morbus acts more like an advanced binding spell. This spell will bind itself to the victim, wherever they are. As soon as the ritual was complete, the curse was going to do its work, no matter what.”

“Who are the others, Albus?” Sprout asked, although with the presence of the Weasley parents, she had her suspicions of one of them.

“From the attendance of Molly and Arthur, I’m sure you can guess who one of the others is.” Molly looked horrified, and shockingly surprised. She must have thought she and Arthur were here as the closest things resembling parents that Harry had. “We think that Hermione Granger, along with Miss Weasley, might be the ones.” Everyone in the office was quiet for several seconds.

“Are you sure that my little girl is one of the victims, Albus?” Arthur Weasley whispered. Dumbledore had to fight from raising his eyebrow. While she was still a virgin, she was by no means innocent. According to the portraits, she was most certainly not a little girl anymore. He’d keep that little secret to himself, no point destroying the man’s view of his daughter; especially not at a time like this.

“Right now, it is only suspect, but those are the two closest to Harry.” Dumbledore stated. “Before you leave, I will show you the spell to make sure she is. It would not do to include Miss Weasley or Miss Granger unnecessarily, and cause additional problems.” Bringing the conversation back to point Flitwick cleared his throat.

“Are you saying that three innocent people will die within two days?” Professor Flitwick asked horrorstruck. “And there’s nothing we can do for them.” Albus Dumbledore looked to Molly and Arthur Weasley.

“Not necessarily.” Dumbledore answered. “There is one way to save them, but the problems that could arise from the cure are many, and extensive.” Molly Weasley looked tensely to the headmaster.

“Don’t keep us in suspense.” The Weasley Matriarch ordered. “Tell us straight what our chances are.” A sad smile appeared on the face of Dumbledore.

“Yes, of course, Molly.” He replied. “As was said before, the ritual acts like an advanced binding spell. It attacks it’s intended, in this case Harry, and splits into two other curses, which will hit two others. The Trigonum Morbus chose the two additional victims from Harry‘s mind; the two young women he loves, or cares most about. Those two, from what evidence we have, would be Miss Granger and Miss Weasley.” Again, there was a heavy silence in the office. “The cure to neutralize the effects of the curse is extreme, but it works.” Dumbledore lectured “when it has been applied, the Trigonum Morbus cannot be cast on any of the victims again.” Arthur became almost desperate.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Albus. Will you just bloody well tell us this cure?” It was a testament to the shock around the room, that Molly didn’t even chastise her husband for his language. Regaining his calm, Arthur continued. “You are talking about our children here. Ginny is our baby girl, and while Harry and Hermione may not be ours biologically, they’re just as good as ours as far as I’m concerned.” After heaving a heavy sigh, Dumbledore nodded. This was one explanation that he didn’t want to give.

“Please Albus, what is the cure, and why are you hesitating to tell us about it?” Molly asked.

“Because we are not talking about a potion, or spell; we are talking about creating a strong binding between the three of them,” Dumbledore answered.

“Tell us, already,” Molly hissed.

“Harry needs to bind himself to the girls, much like the bond you share with Arthur, and impregnate them within forty-eight hours after impact of the curse. They have less than thirty-six hours left to be informed and decide what they wish to do(1).” And all hell broke loose.

Dumbledore slumped back in his chair as his office emptied ten minutes later. Two of the house heads to mourn the loss of three young people’s youths, one to go inform her favorite student and her parents, the Weasleys to explain things to their daughter, and the Interim Minister to begin what was sure to be just the first of many days that she hated going to work. Dumbledore was sure that Harry would not like the news he had, especially since their last meeting had ended on less than friendly terms. He only hoped that things would work out.

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*Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with the side of his face pressed against the cold windowpane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open. The misty fog his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange glare of the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face of all color, so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidy black hair.

The room was strewn with the various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores, and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spellbooks lay higgledy-piggledy among the tangled sheets on his bed, and a discarded newspaper sat in a puddle of light on his desk. The headline blared:

Harry Potter: Chosen One
Rumors continue to fly about the mysterious recent
disturbance at the Ministry of magic, during which
You-Know-Who was sighted once more.
“We’re not allowed to talk about it, don’t ask me
anything,” said one agitated Obliviator, who refused
to give his name as he left the Ministry last night.
Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry
have confirmed that the disturbance centered on the
fabled Hall of Prophecy.
Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused
even to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing
number of the Wizarding community believe that the Death
Eaters now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and
attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy. The
nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation
is rife that it concerns Harry Potter, the only person ever
known to have survived the Killing Curse, and who is also
known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question.
Some are even going so far as to call Potter “the Chosen One,”
believing that the prophecy names him as the only one who
will be able to rid us of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are
unknown, although (ctd. page, column 5)*

Harry was snapped from his sleep, when he heard a muted crack in the front yard. The dark cloaked figure made haste to the front door, and entered. Not wanting to take any chances, Harry drew his wand, and hid it along his side. He then lay back down, and pretended to be asleep, a skill that he was very adept at, having to hide his studying from his relatives. He heard the creak of the loose floorboard of the steps, and readied himself. When his door opened, he saw a man in dark robes standing there. Just as the man lazily lifted his wand, Harry sprung into action. Like lightening, he was crouching on the floor, and a spell fired from his wand. While he chose a nonlethal charm, he put enough power into it that it had a tremendous effect.

Severus had just lifted his wand to wake the boy up with a jet of water, when he found himself lifted off his feet, and tossed backwards into the hall. When he reoriented himself, he found two wands pointed in his face. Potter’s held the familiar glow of the Lumos spell, while his own held the glow of a spell just waiting to be cast. If his hunch was right about the orange color, it was a spell that no one his age should know. Confringo was a volatile blasting curse, and people his age didn’t have the magical control to cast it correctly. This was Harry Potter, however, and loath as he was to admit, the boy had a gift with battle spells. Also, being acquainted with wandlore, he knew that he’d technically been defeated, and that his wand would work for the youth. Snape was brought out of his musings by the sound of his name.

“Professor Snape?” Harry asked. The man nodded, but Harry wasn’t about to trust that. “What was the cause of our lessons being ended?” Snape growled, but answered the question. Harry relaxed just enough that he was non-threatening, but never relaxed his guard. “Sorry about that, but I can’t really trust anyone at the moment.” Snape stood, and nodded his understanding, while accepting his wand back. Deciding to ignore the small fire fight that had just occurred, but slightly impressed with the boy’s speed and reaction time, Snape got down to business.

“Come with me, Potter.” Snape spat. “The Headmaster needs to see you about an emergency.”

“Why’d he have to send you?” Harry muttered back under his breath. “Regardless of what he thinks, I don’t like you, nor do I have any real reason to trust you.”

“I was the one who gave him the news.” Snape said. “Had it not been so important, then he would have summoned someone else to retrieve you. As it is, time is of the essence, so deal with it.” Taking a second to think about it, Harry reluctantly nodded.

“Dobby,” He called. The excitable elf appeared a second later, but Harry spoke before Dobby could get a word in; or begin humping his leg as he always feared the elf would do one day. “I need you to pack my trunk for me, and send it to Hogwarts. Make sure you get everything on the list on the table.” Dobby nodded furiously.

“Dobby will, Dobby will.” And then he set to work. Snape held out a length of rope, and the two wizards disappeared from Privet Drive. Moments later, they landed inside the Headmaster’s office, Harry for once keeping his feet. While Harry should have been happy, he took this as an omen of very bad fortune, and for good reason.

“Ah, Harry, Severus, glad you have made it.” An elderly voice said.

“If that is all you require of me, Headmaster, I must be going.” Snape said, rubbing his arm.

“Thank you Severus, you are excused to your other duties.” Snape nodded, and left. Just before he turned, Harry could have sworn he saw a look of pity flash across the man’s face, but it was gone so fast that he wasn’t sure.

“Have a seat, Harry.” Dumbledore requested. “I have a feeling that you may want to be sitting when you hear the news. I would also suggest a lemon drop; they contain a rather nice bit of Calming Draught.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry said taking the offers. “What is this all about?” The old man sighed, and looked all of his many decades.

“Harry, I promised that I would not keep anything from you.” Dumbledore stated. “This is why I am telling you this myself privately. Arthur and Molly are going to discuss this with Miss Weasley, and Minerva is explaining things to Miss Granger, as well as their parents. After which, they will be brought here, so that we can figure out a way to counter this.” Harry nodded. “Early this morning, Professor Snape brought some grave news to my attention.” Dumbledore started. “After a conference with the House Heads, Molly and Arthur, as well as the Interim Minister for Magic Amelia Bones, we decided to tell each of you the problem separately, explain your options, and let the three of you decide what to do together.” Dumbledore spent the next half hour explaining to Harry everything that he knew about the curse, what he and Snape believed prompted Voldemort’s actions, and what options there where available. Had the situation not been so serious, he would have chuckled when Harry spit the lemon drop across the room in shock. At the end, Harry had a look of utmost disgust.

“Just fucking great.” Harry growled. “So given what we know, this means that I’m going to have to bind myself to two girls I’m not attracted to in that way.” Dumbledore looked startled at that. “Hermione is like a big sister to me, and Ginny reminds me too much of descriptions of my mum. She‘s become almost like a little sister to me.” Dumbledore’s face turned sad. “Are you absolutely sure that I’ve been affected by the curse?”

“Just to make sure, I would like to cast a revealing spell.” Harry nodded. As Dumbledore raised his wand to cast the spell, his fireplace ignited with green flames.

“Professor Dumbledore, would it be possible for me to come through?” A voice said from the fireplace. Looking over, Harry and Dumbledore were gifted to the sight of Luna Lovegood’s head floating in the green flames.

“I’m not sure if this is the best time, Miss Lovegood.” Dumbledore said with a sad sigh. “We seem to be in the midst of a rather unfortunate crisis.”

“Oh, I know all about the Triangle Curse sir, and I think that I may have some good news.” She said brightly. Dumbledore looked shocked, and his eyes went to Harry. Harry just shrugged, having gotten used to Luna‘s habit of just knowing things.

“I’ve only known her for a year.” Harry said. “As best as I can tell, your brain will hurt less if you just accept that she knows things we don‘t.”

“Very well, come on through.” The head disappeared, and soon the flames flared up, and Luna stepped out. Harry almost chuckled when he saw what she was wearing. She had on a red overall skirt, with gold buttons that came to her knees, a green and silver striped tee shirt underneath, blue socks, and yellow trainers. The look was completed by her radish earrings, her butterbeer cap necklace, and her hair in braided pigtails; the ends tied with bronze and black ribbons. The girl looked like walking Hogwarts advertisement. Smiling brightly, she walked over, undid Harry’s pants, flipped up her skirt just so, sat on his lap, and began wriggling her taut bum into his crotch. Dumbledore had to fight back his blush- and shock -at her actions, but managed. Harry was unable to claim the same achievement, especially when he started to stiffen under her bottom the moment she started moving in his lap.

“Ah, that’s nice.” She said, getting comfortable. “Now, about this curse. It affects virgins, correct.” Dumbledore nodded. “Well then Harry has nothing to worry about.”

“Miss Lovegood?” Dumbledore asked, confused, although he was starting to suspect. She, however, ignored him, and turned to Harry.

“Guess what, daddy just taught me the most wonderful charm.” She said, bouncing in her seat like an excited child, and clapping her hands, forcing Harry to stifle a groan. “Next time, you can ejaculate inside me.” And just like that, Dumbledore’s fears were gone; well, the ones about the curse at least. Just to make sure, Dumbledore cast the revealing spell, and was relieved when nothing happened. This however, brought up something else that worried him.

“Miss Lovegood, you and Harry have...” He really didn’t want to finish that statement.

“Oh yes, and it was quite a spectacular experience.” She said, smiling. “It all started...”

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“Are you sure you don’t want some help with finding your stuff?” Harry asked, not really in the mood to go to the feast. Besides, she had helped him with his Sirius issues, so why not return the favor. Luna looked at him in curiosity for a moment, before going completely still. Harry watched confused as Luna’s eyes went white, before she shook her head and grinned widely.

“Maybe I will take your offer after all.” She said. “Wouldn’t want the Pasty Skin Nagaman (2) to catch me alone while I search. We can even have intercourse when we‘re done searching.” Harry stopped short.

“Huh?!” When she cocked her head in confusion, Harry said. “Uh Luna, as great as that sounds, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” The blonde developed a sad look.

“Am I not attractive enough?” She asked, before nibbling her lip- which Harry had to admit was quite sexy. “Hmm, I think I can remember a make up charm mummy taught me when I was a girl. Would that help?” Harry was again thrown for a loop.

“Of course I find you attractive, it‘s just...” Harry didn‘t know quite how to respond. “You mean, you actually want to?”

“Oh yes, I’d very much like to.” Luna replied. “I’d have liked to have given my chastity to Ronald, but I fear that he wouldn’t appreciate the gift as much as you would.” Again, Harry was shocked into a mild stupor. Shaking his head, he finally said.

“How about we just look for your stuff, and see what happens?” While he never intended anything to happen, fate had already decided to reward her bitch for his effort so far. Luna just nodded, already planning how to seduce him.

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The odd pair finally located the last article on Luna’s list. Sadly for Harry’s embarrassment, it was one of Luna’s bras. As she summoned the bra to her, Harry took notice of the bra’s size. While a fairly modest size, it was still quite a bit larger than what he’d expected Luna to possess. Almost as if she knew what he was thinking, Luna spoke up.

“I assure you it fits.” She whispered, dreamily. “Would you like to see my breasts and check for yourself?” Turning red, Harry replied.

“Thanks, but I don’t think that will be necessary.” Harry’s face kept growing redder with her next salvo.

“Are you sure, I don’t mind?” Luna began to unbutton her blouse. “I’ve already offered you my maidenhood, so it would be awfully silly to be shy about showing you my breasts.” Harry was frozen between shock, confusion, and desire. ‘Was she really planning to go through with this?’

“L-Luna...” Harry stuttered, his body tense.

“You seem very tense, Harry,” Luna spoke as if to a young child. “Perhaps you should relax some. Come on, I‘ll help you.” With that, she took him by the hand, and pulled him down several hallways, into an unused classroom. After locking, and silencing the room, she turned, smiling. “Have a seat.” When Harry didn’t look like he was going to act, she continued giving him that dreamy smile, and waved her wand. Harry was so startled when a chair clipped his knees, and forced him to sit, that he never realized her spell was cast silently. He was further shocked, when he found himself stuck to the chair; and again when she spread, and knelt between, his legs.

“Luna, you don’t have to...” Harry started. The problem was, when Luna began rubbing his growing bulge with one hand, and undoing his pants with the other, his breath and words were snatched right from his throat. When she’d finally freed him, she began an examination of his cock that made Harry a little self-conscious.

“Hmm, you’re awfully large.” Luna said, gently handling Harry‘s throbbing erection. “It may hurt a bit more than I anticipated when you first go in, but it should be fine after that.” Giving him a couple pumps with her soft hands, Luna smiled brightly. “Well, let’s have a taste then, shall we.” This was all the warning Harry got, before the petite blonde ran her tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip. Smacking her lips, she said. “Not as good as pudding, but nice in it’s own way.” And Harry knew no more, for the blonde had taken him in her mouth, and began sucking vigorously.

Up and down his pene grande Luna’s velvety soft lips went, caressing over half his length, accompanied by a gentle suction that made his entire pelvic region tingle. Harry whimpered loudly as Luna’s lips stroked him, even more so when he felt one of her soft hands running over his cock as well. The pleasure pulsing though his loins was incredible, and as a virgin, this was the pentacle of his young life.

Still, as much as Harry was enjoying his first oral experience, Luna was doing much the same. She found the act to be both interesting and intriguing, as well as mildly fun; especially getting Harry to make all of those wonderfully odd and funny noises. There was even one that reminded her of what a mating Humdinger would sound like.

It was when Luna started humming, and caressing the underside of his mushroom head with her tongue, that Harry realized that he wasn’t going to last very much longer. With as much coherence as Luna’s wonderful mouth was affording him, Harry tried to issue a warning.

“Luna...I...cum...ugh.” With a movement that mimicked a seizure, and a noise that, to Luna, sounded like a Gulping Plimpie, Harry came. Pleasure like nothing he’d ever known erupted through him, as spurt after mind numbing spurt of elation exploded from him. Luna squealed delightedly, lips still locked firmly around Harry, and clapped excitedly, as she felt the first splash of Harry’s seed coat her tongue. Her cheeks puffed out as she tried to catch as much as she could for her analysis; and she was forced into a small, cautionary swallow when her mouth began to get too full.

Once the flow of Harry’s orgasm ebbed, Luna began her thorough diagnostic of the taste, texture, and consistency of Harry’s ejaculation. In much the same way as a wine tester would, Luna swirled the semen around in her mouth, making several mental notes to think on later. Once she was done, Harry watched the pretty Ravenclaw swallow his seed.

“A little bitter, but not bad.” She said clinically. “Don’t worry, there are fruity drinks that can make it taste better. We’ll get you some later so that we can change the flavor to something a little more pleasing.” Giving the head of Harry’s penis one last kiss, Luna stood. “Now comes the good part.” Personally, the post orgasmic Harry didn’t see how it could get any better than that.

Plucking her wand from her clothes, she began to transfigure a few of the desks into a large raised mattress. Satisfied with her work, she turned back to a still slightly dazed Harry, and noticed a problem. He still had his clothes on, and a quick look at herself told her that so did she. Tapping her wand against her chin, she debated the merits of undressing each other, performing a sexy striptease, or just using magic to get rid of the problem. While the first two were ideal, they would also give Harry time to reorient himself. If Harry was going to take her virginity, then she had to keep him off guard, randy, and going with the flow. A swift wave of her wand, and her clothes were in a neat pile in the corner; another wave, and Harry’s joined them. Getting an idea, she began adding fun little details to the bed, such as sheets with dancing Nargles.

Harry’s mind didn’t register what was going on until he felt a slight draft. Quickly shaking the cobwebs form his mind, he finds himself completely nude. In his shock, he looked up at Luna for answers, only to find the young Ravenclaw standing in front of him, just as nude, with her back to him. Harry’s mind once again was lost to passion as his eyes fell on her taut, round bottom.

Turning back to Harry, she found that he was still dazed. Smiling, she took him by the hand, and led him to the bed. Climbing on, she lay on her back, and beaconed Harry to join her. She began to rub herself, to Harry’s utter enjoyment, until she could feel the sticky moisture in her vagina become more prominent.

“I’m ready Harry.” She said. “Please be gentle, it’s my first time.” Luna followed this action, by doing something that nearly made Harry’s brain stop. In a display of impressive flexibility, Luna pulled her knees up behind her shoulders, and presented her wet opening to Harry. When he didn’t seem like he was going to move, Luna reached down, and placed him at her opening. “Come along, now.” When Harry seemed to return to himself, he steadied himself, and prepared to push forward. “And remember, be gentle.” Luna reminded him.

Harry released a shuddering sigh when his head came in contact with Luna’s soft, wet lips. He couldn’t believe all the sensations bombarding him as he entered a woman for the first time. No matter how many stories he’d heard from older students, the words did the actual feeling very little justice. Harry had to exercise a modicum of control as he penetrated Luna’s labia, and came to rest against that membrane most guys spoke of with vehemence (3). Raising his head for confirmation, Luna gave him a reassuring smile. Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed forward hard enough to get through.

“Yipe!” Harry paused at Luna’s exclamation. He immediately started trying to apologize, but Luna tapped him on the nose with her finger. “It’s supposed to hurt Harry. It would have been suspicious had it not.” Though she did admit, if only to self, that it hurt less than naturally expected, and even more-so given his size. It was about as painful as the light Stinging Hexes her mummy used when she was behaving poorly.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, curious.

“I’ll tell you some other time.” She replied, giving him that radiant smile. “Now give me lovin’.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Pulling out just a bit, he pushed back in and almost whimpered as Luna’s inner flesh gave way to his penetrating meat pole. He did whimper when he tried to pull out again, only to have Luna’s grip on him tighten. It took some doing, but Harry was finally able to get an in and out rhythm going, thoroughly enjoying the amazing sensations; and trying to hold off that mounting explosion.

Luna smiled her dreamy smile, only she was completely lucid at the moment. When Harry had thrust into her the second time, her vision had gone away. Instead of the classroom, she found herself back in the vision she’d had earlier that evening. She could see a modest house on a hill, with nearly a mile of ankle high grass all around. A bunch of blonde and black haired children were sitting with her, playing with numerous different pets and creatures. As well as another group, led by Harry, flying around on brooms. A second later, she was back in the classroom, but what she had seen was very lovely. The vision however, sparked her memory of something that she probably should have mentioned earlier.

“Harry, don’t forget to pull out before you ejaculate.” She said. “While I do think that having your children would be marvelous, I don’t think I’m ready to be a mummy yet.” Harry paused long enough to let her know he’d heard her, before going back into it. As Harry began to pick up speed, Luna began to study his face, mistaking his look of rapture, for one of strain.

Luna suddenly remembered something her mother had told her last year. “It’s impolite to lay their like a dead fish, and make them do all the work.” With that in mind, she tried to help out by thrusting right back; but as her rhythm was like everything else in her life, completely random, it kind of threw things off. In the end, she decided to just use her vaginal muscles, and squeeze him when he pulled back. This turned out to actually be a bad idea. Harry barely made it out of her vagina in time. As it was, his first spurt landed in Luna’s trim blonde curls, the rest shooting onto her thighs, and toned, flat tummy. Harry collapsed next to her, panting heavily, and trying to catch his breath.

“Are you finished?” She asked. When Harry looked away, she pouted cutely. “Oh poo, I was hoping to climax before we finished. Oh well, maybe next time.” Luna giggled. Harry was too out of it to actually hear, and comprehend, what she just said, so nodded acceptance. Pulling her wand from who knows where, she gave it a wave, and cleaned herself up. Then, without so much as a warning, she stuck two fingers from her other hand inside herself, and began rubbing her clit with her thumb.

“Luna?” Harry asked, sitting up.

“Sorry, but I’m still a bit worked up.” She said. “I’ll only be a moment.” Suddenly feeling bad, Harry decided that he wanted to help her along. Not really knowing what to do, he thought back on what they’d done so far that she’d liked. Apparently nothing, given that she never came. He then thought back to the things she’d done, and realized that he’d really enjoyed what she’d done with her mouth. ‘What the hell?’ Harry thought. Luna’s eyes opened with surprise when Harry slipped back between her legs, and pulled her hands away. She was pleasantly shocked, when he lowered his head, and gave her a tentative lick.

Harry ran his tongue cautiously over Luna‘s moist hole, trying to get a small taste. ‘The hell with Treacle Tart.’ He thought as her flavor filled his tongue. It took no time before Harry began inexpertly licking her with gusto. A growl like moan crawled up from the depths of her throat as Harry’s tongue slithered itself inside her. ‘Oh my, it feels like a snake crawled inside me.’ It was as this thought went through her mind, that she made the greatest realization the wizarding world would never know.

“Harry, have you ever tried using your Parseltongue while doing that?” She queried. Harry blushed.

“Um, no,” He answered. “I’ve actually never done this before.”

“Oh?” She asked. “Well, you’re quite good at it; but then you’d have to have a pretty dexterous tongue to speak with snakes. Would you mind trying it for a bit?” Luna’s sweat glistened face, and her look of utter curiosity, made Harry willing to try anything she mentioned-well anything within reason. Picturing a snake, Harry humored Luna’s curiosity, with explosive results. In less than half a minute, Luna was showing him just how good an idea she’d had.

While Luna had known that Parseltongue would likely feel good, she hadn’t been aware just how good it would be. She was coming, and she was coming hard. Why no one else had thought of that Parseltongue trick a long time ago, she didn‘t know. Head tossing, Luna came with a loud roar, her back bending off the bed like an overdrawn bow, and her vagina rocketing her rapture into Harry‘s face like a hose(4). It took her a few minutes to stop shaking, and regain coherency, but when she did, Luna’s look was near predatory. Noticing that the action had made him hard again, she pounced.

“That was wonderful, Harry; now it’s your turn again.” Harry barely had time to squeak, before Luna had tackled him, and downed half his erection in one large gulp.

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“Even though I do enjoy the taste of Harry’s semen, ” Luna stated, matter-of-factly, coming to the end of her narrative. “I’d have preferred to also have Harry ejaculate inside of me instead of onto me.”

Dumbledore could only stare at the young Ravenclaw with a look of shock. Both male’s faces were tinted red; Dumbledore’s from the images the story had produced- though he was impressed that Harry was able to make three gos of it his first rime out- and Harry’s from embarrassment, yet she seemed to be completely unfazed. The venerable Headmaster also had to admit, that he’d never thought of using Parseltongue in such a manner. He was rather glad Tom was unaware of such potential, or he’d have had at least half of the witches in Britain in his service. Regaining both his composure, and his grandfatherly image, he gathered his thoughts.

“I guess the only thing that we must worry about now, is what will happen if the spell doesn’t take.”

“Well, what happened the last time Mr. Pasty tried to curse Harry to death?” Luna asked. Dumbledore’s eyes widened.

“You mean a backlash?” She nodded.

“He’ll be the one affected by the curse.” She said. “And before you ask, my mummy told me.” Dumbledore just nodded, not sure how to take that. Standing, she pulled Harry to his feet, and fastened his pants. “Come along Harry, I want to see what it feels like when you squirt your semen inside me. I bet it‘ll make a most interesting mess.” As soon as the two teens left, Dumbledore sat in shock for a few moments more. Finally overcoming his shock, he scribbled a pair of notes, and asked Fawkes to deliver them to Minerva and the Weasleys. Once that was done, he left the castle for Hogsmeade- more specifically is brother’s pub. Before this, he made sure to stop by the Hospital Wing for a Headache relief potion, and Severus’ office for a hangover cure. It was going to be a long night.

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Days later, Voldemort sat calmly on his throne, contemplating the speech he was about to give to his followers. In just over fifteen minutes, Potter would be dead. He was sure that the Weasley brat and the Granger girl (for even he could acknowledge and respect intelligence) were the ones the spell would choose. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Molly Weasley was set in her ways regarding sex and marriage. Failing that, the other’s muggle parents would most definitely not allow it, thinking that it was some elaborate trick to steal their daughter away. People were so easy to manipulate when they were afraid, and were usually quick to jump to the wrong conclusions. He stifled a small moan; the sexy psycho currently bouncing on his lap always did her level best to please him. Although mildly disturbing, her devotion was a powerful weapon. Had he been able to orgasm, he was sure he’d have filled the woman several times by now. Using his Occlumency to concentrate, he went back over his speech, finding a rather good place to mention enslaving muggles; that always got a rise out of the sycophants. If only the fools were aware of what muggles were capable of, they wouldn’t be so eager to attack them. It was this knowledge that kept his ordered attacks to rural areas, instead of large cities.

Bellatrix ignored the commotion, as well as the shocked intakes of breath, as her fellow Death Eaters arrived. She continued bouncing happily on her master’s magically engorged cock, not caring that everyone, including her husband, could see her. She’d already cum half a dozen times, but she was determined to feel her master’s approval spill into her. Little did she know, that it would never happen. Voldemort had sacrificed his sex drive in his pursuit of power, and had no need for sexual gratification (5). That didn’t mean that it didn’t still feel good, and even he didn’t mind occasionally indulging in certain physical pleasures.

Once everyone except Snape, who’d wisely ignored the call given his privy to certain knowledge, had arrived, Voldemort yanked the crazy bitch up by her hair. She donned a look of disappointment, until she was pushed to her knees. Not bothering to show any hesitation or restraint, she sank to her knees, and took him as deeply into her mouth as she could. Now, the Dark Lord Voldemort was a patient man when he had to be, and he even tried for a few minutes, but when even a Sonorus could not drown out the loud, obscene slurping noises the psycho bitch was making, he lost his cool. Grabbing a fist full of her hair, Tom yanked Bellatrix’s head back, and glared down at her.

“Do it quietly!” He snarled, before letting go. The former Black went back in with as much gusto and enthusiasm as she’d displayed before, only much quieter. He held back a shudder as he thought about the look on her face when she was pulled back. Her eyes were glossed over, and she had such a look of love and adoration that it almost scared him. Not that her mindless fanaticism wasn’t appreciated- it did have its uses after all- it was still mildly creepy.

Ten minutes into his captivating speech of victory- he really did have a silver tongue, even without ever thinking to use a certain gift between a woman’s legs- Lord Voldemort paused. It was at this time that he noticed something...a sensation he hadn’t felt in over fifty years. He had been hit full bore with the feeling of an impending climax. Having gone so long without one, and rather excited that he was able to have them again- it was one of the few sacrifices that he’d regretted later- he paused in addressing his minions to relish in what his psychotic servant was giving him. Maybe the crazy bitch had uses other than just torture and slaughter after all. Fisting Bellatrix’s hair, Voldemort began to slam his hips into her face, and his just above average sized cock down her throat. Unknown to him, the woman began to orgasm wildly, creating a steady drip from between her legs, and a puddle between her knees. While not a true masochist, anything that her master did to her, got her off painfully hard; doubly so if the action lifted his spirits, no pun intended (6).

It wasn’t until he was about to reach a Nirvana fifty years denied him, that he realized something was wrong. While largely overshadowed by the immense pleasure in his loins, there was a rapidly growing pain deep within his gut. It was a pain that felt as if it originated in his magical core, yet sent extreme pleasure to his genital area. It was a pain that felt like something odd and obscure, yet equally pleasing; and just like that, a horrific realization dawned on him. These were the exact symptoms the book described the curse’s victim having; symptoms that Potter should be feeling, not him. He didn’t know how, but the brat had somehow reversed the effects back to him. It must have been his mother- the bitch- that was the only explanation. It is well documented that a person in panic is quite unable to think straight, and is liable to come up with utter nonsense in an attempt to solve a problem. So, in an attempt to save himself, Voldemort stopped thrusting; hoping that if he stopped one sensation then maybe the other would too. Sadly, by that point, he was already tipping over the edge, and there was nothing that could stop it. Not to mention the fact that Bellatrix was bobbing like a madwoman, and had no intention of stopping until she could taste her master’s reward. Three seconds apart, both Voldemort’s cock and his magical core exploded. Bellatrix had a full three seconds to relish the taste of her master’s seed on her tongue, before she knew no more. While he’d have preferred not to at all, even Tom ‘I am Lord Voldemort’ Riddle could admit it was a decent way to go.

Now, one may wonder who or what the other two things affected by the rebounded curse were. Well, seeing as Voldemort loved only himself, and barely cared for his familiar, there were only two things that could be affected. Nagini, who had been at her master’s side, was caught up in the blast that killed everyone. At Hogwarts, a fairly nondescript tiara, we’ll call it a diadem for the story’s sake, sat unmoving on a bust of a former Headmaster. Suddenly, a smoky film began to rise out of it. The thing let out a blood curdling shriek, before dissipating into nothing.(7)

This British Isles were lucky that day; the magical realm twofold. Not only were the magical Brits spared a war that would have devastated the people, and resulted in the deaths of their venerable leader Albus Dumbledore and DMLE Head Amelia Bones, the entire country was spared total annihilation. Given that Voldemort’s power level was slightly larger than even Dumbledore, had it not been for the wards of Malfoy Manor buffeting the bulk, the explosion of such a core would have surely erased Britain from the map. As it was, no one but Narcissa Malfoy, who‘d been having an affair and was away, knew that Malfoy manor had disappeared until a week later when she returned home to a 100 meter crater, after being fucked bowlegged by her recently obliviated, horse hung, Muggleborn boy toy- that is, in her opinion, all they were good for. Poor Dean Thomas would never remember that he’d fucked Narcissa Malfoy bowlegged (8), but he would be plagued with dreams of a blonde goddess that would lead him into a relationship with Lavender Brown. Lady Malfoy on the other hand, emptied the Malfoy accounts, and disappeared soon after reporting her husband and son‘s deaths. All of the people reported missing in the next few days were chalked up to being Death Eaters, and the country moved on.

Even though the details would never be made public, Harry would again be hailed as the hero of the British magical world. A month later, he would again be labeled a menace when he refused newly elected Minister Rufus Scrimgeour’s (9) invitation to be the Ministries poster boy. Of course, with spending his time with his girlfriend Luna, and her fascination with a certain ‘interesting mess’, Harry could care less what the Ministry or its sheep thought of him. There was also the fact that the Quibbler ran countering articles about Scrimgeour’s heading of the Rotfang Conspiracy (10); and that Harry was supposed to help their cause by enhancing Scrimgeour’s image enough for him to take over. As a result, his smear campaign, much like Fudge’s, folded with the instigator coming off looking the fool.

Harry would go on to marry the amazing blonde, lead the Cannons to their first and only win, win England several Quidditch World Cups, form his own League team, and father the first line up of the Southampton Snorkacks- who would win four consecutive League Championships starting their first year, many more in later years, and never not make the playoffs thereafter- as well as half a dozen others who inherited their mother‘s love of creatures; two of which would finally discover their mother‘s elusive Snorkack shortly before their father‘s team was formed. No one in the family would know of the wild night the brother and sister spent together in drunken celebration, at least not until months later when she suddenly grew ill, and only in the mornings. Harry would retire from coaching to enjoy life with his wife, children, and many grand and great-grand children.

Harry James Potter would pass, much to the consternation of his offspring, in the throes of passion with his wife. In a moment of brilliance, Luna brought up the idea of one last trip down passion lane for their one hundredth wedding anniversary. After taking three potions each, the elderly couple retired to bed; and no amount of silencing charms would prevent the house’s other inhabitants from needing extensive therapy...especially those who knew what those sounds meant. In the end, the pair knew that neither of their hearts could take the universe shattering climaxes they’d been accustomed to in their youth (11). Just before that moment of sweet Nirvana, Harry looked up at his wife of a century, and smiled at her.

“This is nice, isn’t it.” She asked. Grinning, he cheekily replied.

“Most definitely the greatest way to go.” And without further adieu, the couple kissed, climaxed, and together, began their next great adventure. Their tombstone would read...

Harry James Potter
&
Luna Lovegood Potter

July 31, 1980 and December 1, 1981 - September 8, 2100

A century of love...and one hell of a way to go

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-Preceding parts taken straight from the books, though some words have been changed to fit the story.
0. One of the bogus things about HBP that I didn’t like.
1. If you’re wondering why it took so long for the meeting to take place, not all of the Professors stay at Hogwarts over the summer. Flitwick’s married to a sexy little number, Sprout runs a greenhouse, and McGonagall tutors students who can’t afford Hogwarts. Also, Harry and Snape arrive less than five minutes after this meeting ends.
2. Naga" is "snake" in Sanskrit.
3. I don’t know about others, but personally I hate a girl’s hymen. Mostly for the fact that it’s already hard enough to make a girl cum, but add to it that the pain of tearing the hymen sets us back even further. Not only that, it’s really not fair that we get nothing but the good, while their first time is ruined because of an annoying membrane.
4. Think Cytherea. If you don’t know who she is, I suggest you treat yourself.
5. no wonder he‘s so twitchy, paranoid, and easily pissed
6. For those of you who missed it, that was a particularly lame Horcrux joke. Don’t feel bad if you didn’t catch it at first. To be honest, I didn’t realize just why I’d added ‘no pun intended’, but something told me to leave it when I went to erase it. It wasn’t until my final pre-post read through that I actually got the particularly bad joke.
7. I decided that Harry wasn’t a Horcrux, and it was just a curse scar.
8. Imperio and Obliviate are rather handy when you need to get laid.
9. Amelia Bones didn’t want to deal with the paperwork and posturing of being Minister.
10. The Rotfang Conspiracy is believed to be a secret organization within the Ministry. Supposedly, its members are Aurors and other high-ranking Ministry officials. Its main purpose is thought to be to bring down the Ministry of Magic from within using Dark magic and gum disease. HBP, Ch. 15 or Slughorn’s Christmas party.
11. four decades ago for those curious

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For those wondering, here is the rundown on the fates of Voldie’s Horcruxes.

Nagini- killed by curse
Sal’s locket- sacrificed, got from Mundungus after threatening him
Row’s Diadem- killed by curse
Sal’s ring- sacrificed
Helga’s cup- sacrificed

My philosophy on Voldemort

To me, Voldemort is not a deranged spycho. He is an intelligent, cold, calculating man, who follows faithfully the adage, ‘The ends justify the means.’ He is a highly powerful, highly talented, charismatic, and silver tongued, wizard; he’s also a tad impatient, and does not suffer fools, which is why he tortures his servants for their failures. His only real flaws, are his morals, personality, and superiority complex. Regardless of his ability to back his claims up, he is also just arrogant enough, that it is detrimental to him at times, and can cause his downfall.

I’ve come up with what could be the greatest (or dumbest, depending on your personal opinion, where I‘m now leaning after doing some thinking; and realizing that I couldn‘t pull this off without it seeming stupid) parody of the Independent Harry fanfiction genre. The title, The Dark Lord’s Dealer. Basically, Harry uses a rather unorthodox method of getting rid of his Voldemort problem. He gets him hooked on crack/meth/highly addictive and deadly drug. Writes him a letter.

I know how you can get more of your fix; but only if you agree to my terms.

This idea came from having my t.v. playing Half Baked in the background while I‘m reading HP fanfiction, and hearing Bob Sagat’s line “Have you ever sucked dick for coke?” while reading a Voldemort scene from an Indy Harry fic.

The following rant is one that will likely piss several people off.

Everyone has thoughts on whose to blame for Harry’s lack of preparation to face Voldemort, among other problems of his, and many have written stories detailing these thoughts. After taking some time to seriously, and I mean seriously, ponder things, I’ve come to a shocking realization. While we can blame any number of people for certain instances in his life, with the exception of his summers at the Dursleys, Harry is to blame for a good portion of his strife. If you disagree, let us take a look at the most popular things that people are so quick to blame others for- which ironically enough are points from which most authors favor branching off from canon.
First is the Tri-wizard tournament. Come on people. He most definitely should have hit the library, screw worrying about everyone else’s opinion. He knew that someone was trying to kill him, so that should have been at the forefront of his mind, not some Potter Stinks badges; he should have been trying to find a way to stay alive. And don’t get me started on that Ron thing. If that petty, jealous moRon want’s to wallow in self pity, then fuck him. He spent all that time hating Harry, even after Harry said he wanted nothing to do with the tournament, then comes back when people like him again. To me, getting rid of Ron was the best thing that happened to Harry. I think he should have been able to see that Ron was only out for himself, and let that dead weight go. In all honesty, I think if Harry and Hermione had cut those ties when they had the chance, maybe Harry would have thought of the things I mention later- especially without Ron there to bring the group‘s collective IQ down so far.
We next come to Harry’s farce of a trial. In his infinite wisdom, shouldn’t Dumbledore have thought to bring his pensieve along, and just asked Harry to produce the memories of both the night of Voldemort’s resurrection and his episode with the Dementors. Failing that, couldn’t Harry have asked for something like that. He could have even asked for Veritaserum. At that point, the only thing he had to hide was who he masturbated to thoughts of. Big deal if it became known that you thought of Fleur (a sexy quarter Veela) or Tonks (a sexy metamorphmagus) when he beat off. There’d probably be someone in the Wizengamot who accidentally muttered aloud ‘who doesn’t‘. I mean, who wouldn’t, really (besides heterosexual females and homosexual males). It’s true he could have also been asked about Sirius Black, but the memories would have shot that shit to hell, and it’s not like he could divulge the location of Headquarters. Hell, instead of wallowing about having a trial, and relying on Hermione to think for him, he could have made a fucking effort. Not only would it have gotten him off, but it would have killed two birds with one stone bowl. With proof in his face, Fudge wouldn’t have been able to deny Voldemort’s return, and Umbridge likely wouldn’t have had a reason to be at Hogwarts. He could have also used one of those Unbreakable Vows, or a magically binding oath.
My third grief is Harry’s Occlumency. I know that many of you like to blame Snape for this, but Hermione was right. He should have been practicing, and taking said practice more seriously. Now you may be yelling that Snape didn’t go over any of the basic exercises with him; so the fuck what. Tell me, if nearly all of his magical learning so far has had a practical and theoretical portion, why should this particular branch of magic be any different. He should have asked Snape if there were reading materials that he could use to learn the basics. Snape may have actually been impressed enough not to be a complete douche about the lessons. Failing that, he should have asked Dumbledore to recommend some reading materials; given that he wanted Harry to learn so bad, he wouldn‘t have denied him. Hell, I’m pretty sure that if he’d asked her, Hermione would have creamed herself at the chance to research the subject for him. Instead of doing the smart thing, he chose to join Ron in bitching about Snape’s teaching tactics.
Next is the issue with Deloris Umbridge. My god, that could have been done with after Harry’s first detention. He had to have known that making someone write lines with a quill that cut into your hand was illegal. Even if he didn’t, a single mention to Hermione would have sent her into research mode. Once he had his answers, a simple note to the aurors (and remember people, this is well before Umbridge had the authority to monitor the Hogwarts mail) would have brought the hammer down. Not only would Umbridge have been arrested for torture with, what I‘m sure is, a Ministry controlled artifact, but Fudge would have been severely in the shitter for putting that woman in a position to torture students with such an item.
I won’t address the issue of Sirius, because it probably wouldn’t have happened had he not been such a moron. Then again, even if he had ended up in the Ministry again, shouldn’t he have noticed that Stunning his opponents didn’t work. To be completely honest, this is another of those things that could have been solved with a fucking pensieve, that Harry didn’t think of.
My next problem is Harry’s sub-par fighting ability, compared to what it could have been. Let’s be honest people, if Harry really wanted to be ready for Voldemort, he would have been closer than he was. With so many capable wands in that school, there was no fucking excuse. With the numerous, and very large gaps in between the Horcrux lessons, Harry could have easily asked Dumbledore for some formal training. As the one person with the magical capability of defeating Tom in a duel, Dumbledore would have been a prime candidate. Failing that, Professor Flitwick was a former champion duelist. Given that everyone is practically calling him the ‘Chosen One’ the little man has to know what Harry is destined to do. All that time doing nothing could have been put to use getting dueling coaching from a former champion. There’s also the fact that Snape is supposed to be a fairly proficient duelist. Not only that, but he’s proficient in the Dark Arts, something that Voldemort has mastered. As a Death Eater and spy, he has some knowledge of what Voldemort is capable of magically; wouldn’t asking him for help be a good idea? If Snape was really on their side, I doubt he would deny the supposed savior help. Not only that, but given that it’s Lily’s son asking him, well duh. I think the thing that pissed Snape off the most, was the fact that Lily’s son was so fucking incompetent. There’s also McGonagall. Given her closeness to Dumbledore, wouldn’t having her as a professor in a Death Eater run school be an issue. Obviously, the old bird is not one to be trifled with. While she may not have the same tactical abilities as the others, Harry has seen with his own eyes the benefits Transfiguration has on a duel. Even in the event that none of his teachers could help, there’s still two people that I know would not have said no, no matter what anyone said to the contrary. Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin would have been more than eager to train Harry had he just asked. To be honest, after rereading the first six books over again, I don’t think Dumbledore ever intended Harry to really fight Voldemort. This is especially evidenced in the sixth book. With Voldemort being technically immortal, he had no real need to fear a fire fight. Given that he didn’t offer him any kind of lessons other than learning about the Horcruxes, I think he was hoping Harry would destroy Tom’s method of immortality, and some random wizard would hit a mortal Voldemort with a lucky shot. He also could have just been disappointed that Harry hadn’t made any conscious effort to better himself, and was relying on him. Now you may say that he was trying to figure out what Malfoy was up to, but it didn’t fucking matter. Malfoy was always up to something, why would that year be any different. Instead of spending all his time whining about what his supposed rival was up to, he should have decided to better himself, and deal with Malfoy whenever things happened. I’m also wondering if being a Gryffindor was a good thing for Harry. Had he had a Slytherin mindset, he wouldn’t have taken so long to get that memory from Slughorn. I think that he should have just confronted the man about the memory. If Slughorn started being difficult, then just accuse him of being a Death Eater in disguise. Given how much he was trying to protect his image, he would have quickly caved if Harry had told him by not giving them the true memory, he was in fact suspiciously helping Voldemort. I’d like to quote a passage from a story, GinnyMyLove’s “Searching for the Power” that illustrates just what I’m talking about.
"Professor, do you want Voldemort to win? Do you want to see people like Hermione Granger, the smartest Witch in and of a generation and others like my mother die?"
That one simple question, or one like it, could have made things a whole lot easier. I mean really, he said he was sorry that she was gone, yet he was helping the bastard that killed them by secreting the memory. I mean really, how the hell was he supposed to know that Tom was going to go and do what he did; he isn‘t responsible for the kid‘s bad decisions. There are any number of other arguments that could have been made, and the time could have been better spent.
Now I know that some people are angry, but frankly, I don’t give a rabid flying fuck. It’s the truth, deal. To be honest, the only person to truly blame for all of this is J. K. Rowling for making Harry such a pathetic hero, and giving him a best friend like Ron Weasley who was such a lazy bastard, and a major distraction from any kind of potential that Harry could have had. With influence from his best friend, Harry ended up taking such bird courses as Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Come the fuck on. Even as a third year, he had to know that he was headed towards a confrontation with Voldy again. The fact that he’s been told numerous times by Dumbledore, and even once by Hagrid, that Voldemort isn’t truly dead- not to mention the run in he had first year and the HUGE FUCKING PROPHECY THAT TRELAWNY GAVE TO HIM ABOUT VOLDEMORT’S RETURN. He should have been taking classes that would have better prepared him for his future. It’s fucking sad that a character with such potential was given such a bullshit situation. Then again, given how she completely tossed so many other characters with major potential (Luna and Neville for example) by the wayside in favor of idiots like Ron Weasley, I’m not terribly surprised. Oh, and I’m issuing a formal protest of Hermione’s pairing with Ron. She could have done so much better than Ron, and that’s without including Harry. While we’re on the subject of relationships, I can’t really bitch about Harry and Ginny being together, since that was her plan. What I will bitch about, was how they got together. Not only was it severely rushed, but his feelings for her came randomly out of nowhere. For the first four years he knew her, he didn’t show any interest in her. Then all of a sudden, in his sixth year, he’s head over heals for her. The least she could have done, was give us some foreshadowing other than they’re practically his parents all over again, with certain traits changed. At least with Ron and Hermione the UST was plainly obvious. Harry/Ginny was poorly done, and reflected badly on JK (and her publishers for not mentioning it) as a professional writer. It’s okay for fanfiction, because compared to most pros, they suck (yes, I include myself in this number), and are not selling their work for profit. For a professional, this is unacceptable. Personally, I think she should have been stripped of HP writing privileges after HBP, and let someone else write it.
My final pet-peeve is Albus Severus Potter...what the fuck?! I know both sacrificed themselves, and I know that Snape left him that case of memories, but that means little compared to several years of torment for shit that he had no control over. Snape treated him like shit his entire time at Hogwarts, and not for something that Harry did, no, but for something his father did. Even though he did redeem himself, Snape was still too much of a dick for Harry to name a kid after him. What Snape deserved, was for the truth of his actions to be made public, but not a kid naming. Hell, I feel sorry for the kid. His namesakes were a man who was the bottom of the Dark Lord responsible for WWII, and a man universally hated by the side that won the war. I honestly think Rowling was either drunk or high when she wrote the last couple books, and both when she wrote the epilogue.
I think I’m going to end this now before I give myself a coronary.