lolafalola

08:00 am: That Time of the Month
Summary: I’m tired of mpreg stories that don’t deal with this!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and her minions own Harry Potter and all the characters. I came up with these demented thoughts.


“Goddamn it, Harry! Did you eat the last of the Honeyduke chocolate?”

“Hmm, yeah, I came home from work and wanted something a little sweet before –“

“And how many times have I told you to throw the wrappers away and not just leave them lying around! What do I look like a house-elf?”

“No, the new house-elf’s name is Dipsy, right? Laa-Laa didn’t work out and so we sent her back to Manor. Your mother said –“

“That’s not the point! You think you can just come in here at all hours of the day and night. I was worried sick about you! What would I do if something happened to you?”

“Draco, don’t you remember? Ron and I were on an all-night stake out trying to catch the last of some of the more violent werewolves. It’s the first of the month and it was a full moon.”

“Werewolves?! Why don’t you just admit that you fancy him and you were out fucking Ron instead! I see how he looks at you Harry, don't deny it. Just admit it, you don’t love me anymore!”

Draco walked out of the room and slammed the door. Harry sighed. Bitchiness, it seemed, was not exclusive to females.

08:35 am: Who's Minding The Store (NC-17)
DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling and her minions own Harry Potter and all the characters. Romaine came up with the original storyline in “Double Edged Sword”. I came up with this subplot.

Here is a link to the original story: Double Edged Sword


The song lyrics, “Who’s Minding the Store” are from the soundtrack to the movie “Good Night and Good Luck”. Dianne Reeves is the singer.

WARNING: The following contains homosexual sex. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with it.

Characters: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Author’s Note: This story would be between chapters 78 and 79 of “Double Edged Sword” by Romaine. Please don’t read it until you’ve finished chapter 80 as I give stuff away from that chapter as well.


Who’s Minding the Store


My angels on high,
Have broken their wings
The loneliest tears, I cry
My heart never sings.


Harry’s eyes opened and he noticed the light coming in from the outside. Even though the light had been coming into the room for the past hour and was gradually getting brighter, he still had to squint his eyes and wait until they adjusted to the morning sun.

Today he felt different. He didn’t know why, but he felt warm inside.

He wasn’t sure what was different, so without hesitation, he confronted the worn leather book sitting on his nightstand. The page highlighted, so he turned toward it and read:
Mornings: “Feeling different, feeling warm” in the morning means that your husband, Draco, is staying in the house. Draco has been staying in the guest room.

Merlin, he hated moments like this. If he had his memories and his past, in all likelihood, Draco would be in bed with him, and he would have woken up to him. Right? Unless, of course, they were fighting or maybe Draco or he, for that matter, preferred to sleep alone; what was the answer. Yawning and stretching out his legs, Harry decided to put on his dressing gown and go to the guest room to find out why Draco slept there.

Harry felt the best way to understand his life was in muggle terms. That’s what he was most familiar with anyway. For most people, people with memories, life was like a movie. It was a series of moving pictures and sounds with one action or event flowing into another. If need be, the movie could be rewound to recall the event. Regardless of whether you wanted to live in the past or present, the picture was continuous and it made sense.

But for Harry, life was like a series of still muggle pictures. It felt like he was holding a stack of pictures that he had to study and live through. Just when he started to understand the picture he was looking at, the wind would sweep it away from him and so he’d have to look at a new picture and hope that he wrote down something in his book to remember the last one. Each image lasting 15 minutes before it would start to fade away.


******


I’m in disarray,
Blue heart on the floor
Locked up and dark for the day
Who’s minding the store?


As he reached the door, Harry debated whether he should knock or just walk in on Draco. Hesitantly, he softly knocked and waited for an answer. When there was none forthcoming, Harry opened the door and walked inside.

The room gave off a smell that reminded him of something. It made him feel warm, tender, and passionate. Maybe this is what Draco smelled like. Although, his memory wasn’t there and his mind was Swiss cheese, his senses still had memories of their own and they brought forth emotions and sensations that he couldn’t quite understand. At the very least, he realized that this smell reminded him of love and sex. Well, at least his marriage wasn’t just a convenience or an arrangement, at least it hadn’t been to him.

As he looked around, he didn’t see Draco. Maybe he was in the bathroom, although there were no sounds coming from it.

Each new room, each new muggle picture was like uncovering a mystery. Harry wandered around the room, there were dirty clothes in the hamper, a few empty hangers were in the closet and one of the dresser drawers was left open. It was empty.

As Harry made his way to the hastily made bed, he noticed a rumpled piece of parchment lying on the top quilt. In rushed, but delicate writing it said:

Harry –
I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to stay very long this time. I am the lead singer in a rock band and we have had a week off from our world tour. Last night was my first night home and I was hoping to spend more time with you. Unfortunately, I have been called away. I have a few other things that I need to attend to and even though I miss you terribly, I hope you don’t mind if I tend to them before I have to go back on the road again.

Maybe after our next album is out, hopefully we can spend some time together. I hope you are doing well. My mother and father mentioned that you are getting better. I’m not sure if you remember anything. We had a rather quiet dinner last night.

I really do wish you were getting better. I cannot tell any longer.

Miss you.

Your husband,
Draco


******


The scent of a new perfume
Has drawn you from me
He’s changing the view for you
For everyone to see


According to his calendar and notebook, Harry was running 30 minutes late from his schedule. He wasn’t sure why, but maybe he could make it up. It was only 10:30 in the morning. It was Sunday, so the schedule allowed time here and there for occasional lapses. He got out of the shower dressed in a muggle t-shirt and faded denim blue jeans. He was feeling a bit queasy and hungry, so he went downstairs to eat a late breakfast.

As he sat down for some eggs, bacon, tomatoes, and buttered toast he realized how ravenous he truly was. The elves had left it out and had spelled it to keep the food fresh and warm.

He started to dig into the pile of eggs when he noisily dropped his fork. His heart rate started to accelerate, his forehead broke out into a sweat and his hands were shaking. All of a sudden, he started to see flashes, images before his eyes that were not the kitchen around him.

He was watching and feeling a scene. Was this a memory or a flashback? Was he starting to get better? Whatever this was, it was intensely erotic.

He could see a man against him, facing him. He was tall, muscular, and had red hair. He was kissing Harry, or so it seemed, but it felt like a vision. The redheaded man was kissing him all over the face and then settled on his lips. His lips were a bit chapped, rough. The kiss was hard and passionate. Between kisses, the man was telling him how much he missed him and was glad that they could spend time together. The man was grateful that they had almost a whole week and was going to spend as much time filling him, Harry, as was possible. Was this a memory? Was this someone he knew?

The man moved on from his lips and with his tongue started to trace the outside of his ear. Then he delicately found a soft spot behind his ear, licked it and then began to suck on it. A moan escaped Harry and he shivered.

Like his lips, the man’s hands were rough and big. They had seen their share of physical labor. Although Harry wasn’t sure, the man didn’t seem like his type. Nevertheless, the man was running his hands up through his hair and then down his back returning again to his scalp. As they started to go back down his back again, they started to massage his shoulders. Then they were brushing down his spine rubbing against his back muscles along his back ribs. The touch was both firm and electric and sitting at the kitchen table, Harry started to melt. His erection was pressed firmly and uncomfortably against the zipper on his jeans.

The scene was a bit sporadic and it seemed to fade in and out of view. Now, the man was behind him, they were both naked and the man was rubbing this hairy chest against Harry’s back. He could feel the hair that ran from the man’s collarbones, down his chest and to his navel. He could also feel the man’s erection pressed under his ass and between his legs. The man was slightly thrusting back and forth anxious for something better, tighter to sink his erection into.

Looking down, the man’s hands were on his own smooth chest. Wait, that can’t be right. Harry knew his chest wasn’t smooth. It was somewhat hairy and he was more developed, especially his pecs. Then the redhead’s hands began to move in different directions off his alien chest.

The man’s left hand began to firmly stroke Harry’s erection, but that didn’t look right either. He would take it into his fist and move up and then put a small twist around his cock head. With his right hand, the man reached for a small cauldron of lubricant potion and was working his fingers between Harry’s ass checks and slowly inserting first one and then two fingers into his tight ass. Sitting at the table, hoping even the house elves wouldn’t bother him; Harry unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, wiggled them down to his thighs and slouched down the chair. He started to stroke his cock with one hand and massage his balls with the other. Whether this was a dream or a vision or a memory, Harry wasn’t sure, but he was going to ride it out as best he could.

The man moved back from him a bit, and said, “Show me your dragon, Draco. Show me what I know I need to subdue, what I need to tame.” In the vision, Harry moved his hand and wand behind, said a quick spell and felt his back become warm. “Oh yeah, I love to look at your dragon, Draco, as I fuck you.” The redhead said as he firmly started to thrust into Harry. There in his house, Harry could almost swear he felt the bulbous head penetrate him. Whatever Harry was watching; this certainly wasn’t his memory. Who was Draco?

The fucking started small, but became more forceful, harder, deeper than the initial thrust. Before he knew what was happening or had an idea of what this vision was, Harry came all over the table, over his food. Breathing in gasps, he closed his eyes and brought his head back to the top of the chair’s back.

Quietly, Harry brought his breathing and vision back to normal. It had been at least 20 minutes before he looked at his food and himself. Something had happened. Sitting up, fixing his pants, and looking at his food he called out, “Hello?”

pop

Dobby appeared out of thin air and asked Harry if he would like another plate of food.

Flushed and slightly embarrassed Harry simply nodded.


******


So, you slipped away
Remote evermore
Who’s warming the chill every day?
And who’s minding the store?


Narcissa sat in her chair. She was reading the latest Witch Weekly and seemed pensive, her toe was tapping ever so slightly against the floor. Every so often she would casually glance at the clock above the fireplace on the mantel. To anyone who didn’t know her, she seemed to be aloof and bored. But Lucius knew better. He could tell that she was excited, anxious and impatient. It was almost time for her to rendezvous with Harry for their Sunday evening dinner and dancing. To Lucius, the look on her was simply alluring.

“My Little Lioness, why are you so anxious? If I didn’t know better, I would think that you enjoy these evenings out with Harry more than you do our Friday evenings dining out on the town.”, Lucius queried.

Narcissa smiled a knowing and mischievous smile. “To be quite honest,” she said, “I do secretly enjoy my time with Harry. It seems that every time we go out, I’m entertaining him for the first time. I don’t have to worry about my stories being new or even if I’ve repeated myself. He’s very charming and so sincere that it seems almost enchanting to be with someone that open and honest. Plus, he stares at you so completely as if you are the only one in his whole world.”

Lucius chuckled, “Yes, I have noticed that after your dinners together my feline is feeling a bit frisky for being out until the late night hours. Where are you taking him tonight?”

“I’m taking him to Le Moutin Noir this evening.” She said, “I have reservations there for 8:00 pm and it is my understanding there will be a very nice American jazz ensemble with a lovely female singer. That should be perfect for a night of soft dancing.”

Harry was really turning into a rather decent dancer. If he continued to improve, she may have to seek outside assistance and lessons as he was starting to push past even her 6 years of etiquette and dance lessons from her youth. All that dueling with Draco must have inadvertently taught the usually clumsy lad how to tango, so to speak.

At 7:30 pm, Harry came through the floo and was brushed off by an instantly attendant house elf. He looked around the room, glanced at Narcissa and said, “Mother, you look absolutely stunning tonight. I hope I’m dressed for the occasion. Are you ready to leave?”

Narcissa’s smile grew slightly. She looked at Lucius, winked, and said, “We’ll be out a bit late. I hope to see you up and about later.”


******


I silently call your name
But no one is here.
My heart sadly hopes in vain,
That you might appear



“Harry, dear, do you remember this place? I know you get frustrated when I ask you that, but I thought I would simply mention if you didn’t, that this was the place that my biological son and your husband, Draco, proposed to you.” Narcissa mentioned to Harry after the waiter had seated them and they were getting ready to review the wine list and menus.

Harry looked in his notebook, reviewed the spelled pages that briefly described this place and his personal involvement with it prior to that night. After rereading the contents Harry looked up at her and said, “Yes, it was a really lovely night, unfortunately a few Quidditch players almost ruined the whole night for us.”

Narcissa smiled at him and said, “I have it on good authority that the following morning, Draco almost got stuck with a whole series of tongue studs.“ Harry looked at her amazed and then began to scribble into his notebook both what she said and a note to find out more about that particular piece of information. It didn’t seem like the kind of story he felt comfortable finding out from his mother.

They had decided on a 6-course meal. Narcissa and he were coming to an understanding. She would pick out the meal and he would decide upon the wines. Then when the meal was complete they would decide which selections were the most complimentary and which ones would have been better choices.

About halfway through the meal, just as he was pouring Narcissa another glass of red wine, Harry started to have a series of visions that danced in front of him. They were physically very strong and blocked out the backdrop of Paris, the room they were in and Narcissa. It was a vision of a redheaded man, sucking on his neck, making soft bites down his jawline and along his collarbone. Harry’s hands began to shake as he started to sweat. He quickly and rather abruptly put down the wine bottle. It was a little louder than he had wanted.

With a slight crease between her eyes, Narcissa leaned into him and asked if everything was all right. The vision was starting to get more intense, the motions of the man’s head down his chest and toward more intimate places began to arouse Harry.

In a panic, Harry, as gracefully as he could, asked to be excused to attend to some needed business in the restroom. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen or whether this was a vision, or the beginning of a memory, but sitting in the middle of a 5-star restaurant, he knew it would be best to take this somewhere else.

He made a hasty retreat toward the area of the restaurant where the waiters were coming from, found one and walked as fast as he could toward the restrooms.


******


As doubt settles in
And closes the door
It’s only to hide, what’s happened inside
Who’s minding the store?


As the evening was waning, the smooth jazz singer drank from a glass of water that was placed near where she sang. She then announced that this was the last set for the evening. She thanked everyone for attending and hoped that they had a wonderful night and a safe journey home.

Narcissa looked at Harry, they had danced on and off through the night after their dinner and asked him if he wanted to dance the last set of songs with her. Even though he was tired, although he wasn’t sure of the day’s events, he readily agreed and led her out onto the dance floor for one more round.

The lyrics of the last song for the night were both haunting and bittersweet. Narcissa sighed; tonight had been especially lovely. She had laid her head to rest on her partner’s shoulder. She usually didn’t get so comfortable, as it would seem improper not to mention the effects it could have on her hair! As she raised her head and began to gently clap for the band’s performance and the singer’s repertoire, she turned to Harry and noticed something. Her voice registered a quiet concern, “What’s wrong Harry? Son, why are you crying?”

Pulling out of the daze, Harry reached toward his face and wiped his hand across his cheek. The saltwater tears that wet his hand both shocked and embarrassed him.

Still concerned by his blush and his silence, Narcissa repeated her question, “Son, why are you crying?”

Having lost another photograph to the wind, Harry just looked at her and said, “I don’t know why.”

Tags: double edged sword, harry/draco

05:07 pm: Leave The Photos At Home (NC-17)
LEAVE THE PHOTOS AT HOME


Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and her minions own Harry Potter and all the characters. I came up with these demented thoughts.

WARNING: The following contains homosexual sex and incest. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with those.

Characters: Harry Potter/Colin Creevey/Dennis Creevey

Author’s Note: I am more of a H/D shipper, but for some reason, this very perverted bunny would not go away. Bad Bunny Bad!


******


Harry had been staring at the pictures for about 30 minutes. Without even realizing it his mouth had been open almost the whole time. He didn’t realize it until his jaw started to ache and his lips and tongue were parched.


After awhile, he was looking at these pictures with the various emotions ranging from curiosity to shock to humiliation to disgust and finally settling on anger. A new emotion crept into his mind, amusement. He was wondering how they had taken one particular shot to show what porn movies referred to as the ‘money shot’ so that it happened over and over again. It seemed like an unusual angle and even though he hadn’t done this particular act, much less with another man! He would have thought that the camera would have been placed in such away as to make the ‘receiver’ very uncomfortable.


He couldn’t believe that in the span of less than an hour, he had gone from being slightly tired and very hungry and only thinking about getting ready for a shower and dinner to trying to figure out if someone would have to stretch beforehand and be excessively limber to do some of the things he was seeing.




******



Harry had come back from a late afternoon Quidditch practice when he found a large, brown envelope on his bed addressed simply as “Harry, please read this when you are alone.” He looked pensively at the envelope and then looked around to see if anyone was watching him or to see if this was some kind of joke. Then, without hesitation he pulled out his wand.


After casting a series of spells to see if the contents were dangerous or if there were any spells or potions on the package itself, he felt confident that the envelope was rather innocuous and picked it up to drop all the contents onto his bed.


A series of photographs feel out of the bed. They were all wizarding photographs, so they were all moving. Just from a cursory view, it seemed that in most of the pictures the people in it were naked, all male and all thrusting and rubbing, the amount of initial motion taking place on his bed made him feel a little queasy. The very last thing to come out of the envelope was a piece of parchment with a rather loopy writing on it. He decided to initially forgo what the pictures were and read the note first.


“Harry” the note read, “I know that as a fellow Gryffindor, you should be aware that these photos exist. I found them on top of Colin’s trunk about 3 weeks ago and hid them when he came back into the room for fear of him realizing what I had found. I have been watching you and specifically, your interactions with him and his brother and I suspect that not only do you not know that these photos exist, but rather something a bit more devious is going on. I am not sure.


Regardless, I should have just put the photos down and minded my own business but I felt that you should know the honest truth and someone had to be brave enough to tell you about it. However, as one of Colin’s roommates, I fear I am not as much a heroic Gryffindor as you are. So, I shall not be signing my name.


I wish you the best.”


Later after viewing the photos, Harry still shook his head when he kept internally repeating that last line, “I wish you the best.” How could anyone who had viewed these photos wish him THAT unless they thought he was one of the biggest ponces in Great Britain!


Then, just before he could start going down the self-abuse thought process of “why does this kind of shite always happen to me”, Harry heard a set of loud footfalls coming down the hall with a muffled voice that was distinctly Ron’s saying, “Don’t worry Hermione, I’ll be down as soon as I get Harry. I’m sure he’s done with his shower by now.” Without hesitation, Harry proceeded to put all the pictures and the parchment haphazardly into the envelope and then shoved the envelope under his pillow. He threw himself in a prone position on the bed just in time to hear Ron noisily throw the door open and proclaim, “Harry, did you fall asleep in your Quidditich gear and without even taking a bath? Get up you lazy ponce!”


******


It was late and Harry felt certain that his roommates were finally asleep. It was Ron’s snoring that confirmed the last person had indeed fallen asleep. For a split second, he felt that he was back on Privet Drive and having to pull out his textbooks again to start studying. Only this time, what he was pulling out wasn’t nearly as innocent as Miranda Goshawk’s book on standard spells, regardless of the year.


As Harry pulled the brown envelope out from it’s hiding spot and slowly dumped the contents back onto his bed again, he noticed something about the pictures this time that he hadn’t before. When he hastily placed the pictures back into the envelope, he didn’t notice that there was writing on the back of every picture. Apparently, the pictures were numbered “1st picture taken”, “23rd picture taken” and so on. So, without much thought, Harry turned all the pictures over and began to organize them so that when he turned the pictures over face up the “first” picture would be on top.


There were 86 pictures in all. With only an initial view of the organization, it would appear that the pictures were trying to tell a story, but no matter which picture it was, be it the first, the twenty-third, or the eighty-sixth, Harry was in every single shot. How could he be in every shot when he absolutely despised having his picture taken and he certainly wouldn’t have posed for these!


The first two pictures seemed innocent enough; one was of Harry with his arm around Colin Creevey and the next with his arm around Dennis Creevey. In both pictures, Harry looked giddy and had his arm around the Creevey shown. In the one with Colin, Harry definitely had a look that seemed more like a leer and he kept staring at the older Creevey in a way that made Harry most uncomfortable. From there the pictures start to go downhill rather quickly.


There are pictures where Harry is seen without his shirt, acting like a prancing git moving around the picture begging to be seen. Then he’s seen as completely nude as the day he was born in the next set of shots. From there the pictures take a more serious and carnal turn.


The next series of pictures seemed to be him, still nude with just Colin. In them he starts off staring at Colin, while Colin places a small and shy kiss on Harry. From there he and Harry are starting to make out. Then in a series of disturbing scenes, Harry is seen as sucking on Colin’s neck as Colin gasps and runs his hands through Harry’s messy hair. Pictures of Harry taking off Colin’s clothes, pictures of Harry and Colin, their mouths in passionate kisses as their hands run up and down each others bodies. They seem to be rutting into each other like a pair of animals in heat. Later the pictures switch to pictures of Harry with Dennis. They were in similar poses and similar states of familiarity.


The only thing, except for a few at the end that struck Harry as rather odd angles, was that the earlier pictures were all at the same elevation at the same angle. It’s almost as if the pictures were being taken automatically on a muggle tripod.


After, the pictures where they are snogging, Harry sees that they decide to take it to the next level. Again, there are pictures of him and Colin, only now they’re of Colin giving Harry, what he can only imagine to be a fantastic blowjob judging by a most unusual look on his face. Then Harry in a later subset returns the favour.


On and on the pictures go, until Harry is fucking Dennis up the arse. Something Harry would have never dreamed of in a thousand years. Just the thought, he realizes is worse than any dream or memory that Voldemort ever forced him to watch. He shudders even though he’s under thick blankets.


Harry puts the pictures away and tries desperately to clear his mind. Finally falling asleep, Harry realizes something needs to be done about this tomorrow before he goes and kills them both.


******


The next day, Harry decided to wait until after class when people were more spread out to approach the brothers. It was easy enough to find them after dinner. They were in the common room sitting together looking a bit frantic as if they were trying to put a mental puzzle together. As he approached them, he could hear more of their conversation and seriously suspected what they were discussing.


Colin was wringing his hands, “Well, I haven’t seen them in about 3 weeks, but the last time I did see them was when you had taken them out of my trunk and I was getting ready to go take a shower.”


“Well, I thought you were almost done with your shower and I could hear someone coming down the hall, so I placed them on your trunk and walked out of your room. I was kind of glad at the time, because it was one of your dorm mates.”


“Did you leave them face up or face down?”


“I… I don’t know.”


Groan.


Harry then decided that this was the perfect time to approach the two brothers. “Are you looking for these?” he asked as he placed the pictures on the side table that was between them.


They looked down at the pictures and then the look on their faces was of total mortification. Without even looking up, Colin spoke first, “Where did you find these, Harry?”


“Let’s just say a little birdie left them.”


Dennis replied, “We are very, very sorry Harry; we didn’t mean for you to find them. I can’t imagine how shocked and angry you must be. We’ll understand if you never want to talk to us again or want us to return the coins from the D.A. last year.”


Colin looked up with the most sincere pleading expression on his face, “Please Harry, please, don’t tell anyone. I don’t know if I can face Professors McGonagall or Dumbledore.”


Harry looked grim and more than anything wanted to scream at them and hex their bits off, but he had a whole day to think about this and the one thing he realized was he didn’t want anyone to know about this either. He knew that even if they went straight to one of the professors and told only them, it would get around the school by tomorrow morning’s breakfast. And even though he knew he was innocent, the thought of being taunted by the rest of the school for these pictures would be one of the worst humiliations he would have to endure. He honestly didn’t think that even Hermione or Ron would stay by his side through something as disgusting as this.


“I only have one question.” Harry asked. “How did I end up in these pictures? I can throw off the imperious curse, so it’s not like you could have done that anyway. I don’t recall having any blackouts and by the looks of it, some of these pictures took some time to happen, so I don’t think you slipped me any potions. Did you pose with these pictures with someone else and then spell the pictures to look like me?”


Colin’s and Dennis’ wide eyes shot up looking at each other. Then they both turned to Harry and Colin said, “Yes Harry, how did you figure it out? I’ve been playing with some spells I found in a library book about wizard photography and it mentioned something like that.”


“So, you just took turns holding the camera while you and some bloke … umm… umm” Harry was frantically waving his hands at the pictures, trying desperately not to have to state the pictures contents.


“Yes, it’s something like that.”


“Well, I’m going to Incendio these pictures when I get back to my room and please promise me you won’t do anything like that again.”


Both boys looked extremely relieved and nodded their heads.


Harry grabbed the pictures, tucked them back into his robes and vanished up the stairs.



******


The next day, Colin was getting ready to head to breakfast. He stopped on the stairs down to drop by his brother’s room to see if Dennis had left yet and if they wanted to eat together. He suspected that Dennis maybe feeling some guilt after their confrontation the day before with Harry. He was worried, that even though it had been only the three of them and even though he knew that Harry was a honorable, humble man who wouldn’t dare tell a soul; that Dennis would still feel as if the whole school had somehow found out about the pictures and what had really happened with them. He knew Dennis, who’s creative imagination helped come up with the idea of them alternatively taking the polyjuice, would be going a mile a minute with the embarrassment and would subsequently be hiding under covers.


Sure enough, after he had knocked and there was a muffled “Enter” coming from the room, Colin found a rather large lump under Dennis’ blankets. After he pulled back the covers he could see his brother, balled up in a fetal position in the farthest corner of his bed looking pale and agitated. He stared at his brother and said, “Well, Dennis, are you going to get out of bed?”


After a long silence, Dennis finally spoke, “ Colin, now that Harry’s found out, what are we going to do? Maybe there’s someone else we can polyjuice into. Who else do you desire? I think Draco Malfoy is kind of hot, although getting some of his hair maybe a challenge.” Dennis had sat up and was looking down at the floor while starting to bite his left thumbnail again. Colin knew that was a sure sign that his little brother felt somewhat defeated and nervous.


Now, it seemed to Colin, that Dennis was just rambling. So, after a long sigh, Colin looked at his younger brother, sat down next to him, gently put his arm around him and said, “Dennis, don’t worry about a thing. Nothing is going to change. For me, it’s Harry or nobody. Next time, we’ll leave the photos at home.”

Tags: crackfic attempt, creevey brothers, harry potter