A/N: Back for a limited time only...moi!

Disclaimer: Nothing interesting is mine. Credit for any and all smut goes to Alfonso Cuaron. Alfie: your perversion inspires me to new heights of debauchery!


Harry cheerfully frowned and refused to eat.

Who could ever ignore him now? He was the boy who lived! And all Boys-Who-Live need breakfast. People would be swarming all over him with worry in a matter of minutes.

"Harry, aren't you going to eat your eggs?"

Yes! His first worry-wart. Harry sullenly cheered. It was only his lover, but it was a start.

"im fat and im not eating and you cant make me so stop trying."

"Okay, if you're sure you're not hungry."

"you cant make me."

"Okay. But it's only the second day of school. You'll need your strength."

"stop trying to make me im anorexic ok? just leave me alone you cant make me eat!"

Harry sobbingly ran out of the room with his eye-liner flowing unperturbedly. horrible, he thought to himself with pride. He had managed to yell in small letters! Boo for him!

He sat sullenly in his best black shirt, black pants with heavy silver chains, and eyeliner, and waited for someone to come after him.

Hermione cheerfully bounced down the stairs to the Great Hall.

She couldn't wait to tell Harry and Ron how gifted Malfoy was!

Suddenly, Harry barreled past her in all black, sobbing, and got eyeliner all over her pink, midriff-baring, cleavage showing, tube top.


She looked furtively around, making sure no one else was near her, and waved a manicured hand at her ruined top.

Poof! The stain disappeared. For you see, Hermione was special.

She reached the Great Hall in a flurry of pink and blue jeans and plopped down next Ginny, who was crying.

"Oh my God, Ginny it was horrible! I walked in on Draco in the shower and boy was he gifted! I mean…naked! My poor, virgin eyes!"

Ginny merely sobbed. "When will Harry ever make me tea! I just want Harry to love me! Oh woe! Oh sorrow!"

Hermione pouted. What was wrong with this girl? Couldn't she ever just come out a SAY her problems, so they could get on to something more important? Namely, her? Some people were so self-centered!

"Ginny, listen to me. I accidentally walked in on Draco twice this morning. He's very gifted, and I am horrified. So horrified, I think I need to see it up close. Comfort me!"

Ginny ran away, crying.


"Yes, Lavvy-poo?"

"I'm pregnant."


Harry gloomily wandered into his room.

This Goth thing isn't working out, he reflected, maybe it was time for a change.

A radical change.

Draco paced his and Hermione's common room in standard TorturedHero!Draco manner. He had called Hermione five minutes ago…where was she? Was she with another boy! The terror! The fear! The intense jealousy that tore at his insides and ripped at his test—

"Draco!" Cried Hermione, "Gifted Room-mate! How are you?"

"Hermione," said Draco, sitting upon the couch and pulling her into his lap, "there is something important we must discuss. It's…it's hard to…"

"Oh, it's hard too!"

"Sorry, flashlight. Look, we need to seriously discuss the rug."

"I'm sorry, I'm not wearing a toupee."

Somewhere, Groucho Marx rolled over in his grave.

"Hermione, have you yet had time to fully consider the Persian rug by the fire place?"

"No, but we can examine it closely together, if you'd like."

There followed a period of examination.

"Did you see the coffee stain?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, straightening her bra, "But why would Dumbledore have put a Persian rug with a coffee stain in the room?"

"Her name," said a slow voice from the door, "is Evie."

-snip snip snip-

"Why won't Harry love me?"

"Well, maybe you don't have enough in common."

Ginny sighed, "But we were made for each other!"

Damien rubbed her back, "Well, unless you have a penis tucked away down there, you're out of luck. Unfortunately for you, Harry is gayer than a George Michael duet with Elton John."

Realization dawned on Ginny, "Oh of course! I know! I need to have more in common with him!...Damien…"


-\->-SNOG SNOG SNOG- -/-

"Who are you?"

"You once knew me as Angst!Harry, now you can call me H-dawg, yo."

"Wut up dawgie-dawgette?"

"…I be preggers, yo."

"No shizzle up the hizzle!"

A/N: Once again, I apologize...