Disclaimer: Without context and without much editing.
The Cutting Room Floor
A collection of scenes that for one reason or another failed to make it into the story.
The first couple are by me . . .
"Yes Hermione," Luna agreed. She grabbed Harry by the back of his head and pulled his face into her bountiful bosom. "If he can't see he can't do magic."
"Luna may be a bigamist but . . ."
"But what Hermione?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I've lost my train of thought."
"Come on Harry," Hermione growled. "We're leaving."
"Mrs. Potter I . . ."
"Didn't bother to do any basic research before condemning Harry," Hermione snapped. She leaned over to whisper something into Harry's ear. "Please Harry," she added.
"Looks like we might be late for the express," Harry sighed. "But we'll try to get here soon after."
"Alright Mr. Potter," Minerva agreed. "Have a good time then."
"What was that?" Dumbledore asked after the couple had left the room.
"Hermione has a plan to prevent Mr. Potter's untimely death and unless I'm much mistaken, Harry has just agreed to spend a bit of personal time with her rather then ride on the express."
One by wraithsgt15 . . .
"Ahh somebody save me" screamed DIDDamsel In Distress No. 642 (or was it 647?) as she ran from the deatheaters, suddenly out of the dark corner (chases always happen near dark alleyways or corners do they not?) a mass made a sudden move and what appeared to be tentacles grabbed the deatheaters and promptly used them in a impromptu game of four square. Alas deatheaters do not make very
good four square balls though they did bounce surprisingly high proving that with enough force and a firm enough surface to bounce off of you can bounce nearly anything. Once the "balls" had ceased moving the dark mass began to move away only to stop when a yelled "wait" reached it's ears(??)"Who are you" asked the now rescued DID, a scratching noise not unlike chalk on a blackboard answered her and a small blackboard became visible with the expertly written words "Some call me Tim?" in a slightly fluorescent chalk on it's surface. "Thank you for saving me Tim, out of curiosity what are you?" asked the RDID Rescued Damsel In Distress the blackboard vanished back into the shadows while more scratching was heard when the noise ceased the blackboard reappeared with the words "I'm...Complicated and lets leave it at that"
By D.J. Thorens, yes this is where I got the idea . . .
"Ding dong, the bitch is dead!"
"What bitch?" Which old bitch
"What did you do now, Harry? How could your family magic possibly have defeated Voldemort singlehandedly?"
"Not much. I just warded his hideout."
"Warded his..." Ron sputtered. "But how..."
"We all knew he's hiding in that place in Little Hangleton. And we couldn't get in because of his wards. It was actually fairly easy to map them out and set a second layer of wards right around them. It's something like a double-sided fidelius actually... By the way, did you know that the Fidelius was originally developed to keep heists undisturbed? Set it around the location you want to plunder and - voila, no irate owners to disturb you."
"No, I didn't know. But what about Vol- you-know-who?"
"Oh right! A Fidelius protects a location, makes people forget it when they're not told by the secret keeper and stuff. Now invert it and suddenly you have a charm that keeps people inside a place until they're informed that the outside world exist. Combine those two and ... noDeath Eater gets in, no Voldemort comes out. It's a bit more complex though, warding against house elves and portkeys and stuff. But we now have one contained Dark Lord."
Don't forget "at the hand of the other" doesn't need to mean final battle. Poisoning is just as effective and doesn't leave splattered brains and ugly scorch marks all over the landscape. :)
Some by moshehim . . .
Umbridge did not have a good day. She did have a good night, the
night before, as she went to Diagon alley to hire an attorney on
behalf of Cornelius, and arrived just in time for the two of them
get caught in one of these diabolical snugglefasts that Dork Lord Jeremy was wont to do. She thought back fondly to the days when dark lords were dark lords, going about on murder and torture and pain -
just the thing to make a hold heart flutter. At least, she did partake in some torture and pain with her solicitor friend, and even found a new use for a blood-quill.
However, what she did
not count on, was being seen, by Daily Prophet gossip reporters no
less. And now she had been summoned to the minister's office, the
minister who marginalized her, who shunned
her away, the one that escaped her grasp before, the one she failed to torture, despite her great desire to do so, and ran away. She was summoned to explain her wanton behavior, and it didn't bode well to her prospects.
"Dragon heartstrings you could get from dealers, but then it's rather costly. I deal directly with the handlers, who dissect dead dragons for ingredients." said the creepy old man. "Phoenix feathers is an oddity. They are very rare, and have to consent to donate you a feather from their tail. Otherwise you could pull as much as you like, and it would stick. So you don't have to worry about that, on the rare occasion a phoenix deigns to donate me a feather, I will harvest it myself. Unicorn hair, however, proves to be quite the problem. You see, it sells down the street for ten galleons a hair. However, as I sell a wand for only seven galleons, and a wand has several hairs in it, I cannot afford to purchase those on the market, I'm afraid I have to gather those myself, and would like you to assist me in that."
'Unicorn hair sells for ten galleons apiece?' wondered Draco. 'If I can get my hands on some, get the old man to show me where he gets them, I could be rich in no time!'. "Hang on a second!" he exclaimed, remembered back. Ignoring Olivander's odd look, as the old man was prowling on, he thought back on his first year, when he ventured into the Forbidden Forest by the Hogwarts grounds to look for unicorns. 'There are unicorns in the forest!"
In his excitement he missed Olivander's words: "... and as you are young and still a virgin, you could..." and "only the young ones, the adults don't like men too much..." and even "approach with great care...".
He did, however, catch the last of the old man's instructions: "...and absolutely no magic while gathering the hai. No summoning charms, no cutting curses, it must be all done by hand, not involving magic, or the hair looses it's properties.
"Okay," said the senior healer. "What you do is give Snape two pictures. One of Harry Potter, the other of a woman, then, whenever he looks on Potter's picture, you hit him with a shocker - to the arm pit, to the groin, improvise, be creative about it. Whenever he looks at the woman's picture, hit him with a mild - perhaps with growing strength and intensity? - a mild pleasure charm, so he'll eventually stop to fantasize about Potter and start fantasizing about women instead."
"How am I suppose to do a pleasure charm? I can barely pleasure the old hag, as it is!" complained the orderly.
"What do I look like to you," bellowed the healer, "an information centre? Just-, just go ask one of Dark Lord Jeremy's followers for one of their spells. Why do I have to do everything around here."
"Don't worry, Paul," said Healer Brown. A friend of mine from Hogwarts is working as an undercover Auror in the Dark Bunnies' organization. I can Floo her and ask for some help, Okay?"
"Thanks, miss." said the orderly.
To Healer Jameson, Lucy said: "That was ingenious, sir. How did you come up with that?"
"Well," said the senior healer, "I saw it in a muggle movie, really. Something about a cookwonk orange I think. They had some crazy pervert and decided to heal him and stopped his perversion. They used some music to beat the heaven out of him. Didn't make much sense to me at the time, but I since read about behavioral conditioning, something about Pavlov, dogs, pigeons, rats, and even people. So, if it works for muggles, why not for Snivelous? I used to shy of muggle healing methods, even considering it would bring you the ire of your colleagues, like that fellow in Magical Bites who tried to saw a wound on some ministry employee, Beaverly or something. However, I worked with a couple of muggle healers, teeth specialists, and came to appreciate their knowledge and expertise."
"Yes," said Lucy, "and there's no stone we should leave unturned in our quest to heal poor Snivelous."
"That's the spirit, my dear," said the healer. "You will do greatly, mark my word."
As the two healers made their way out, they missed hearing the orderly mutter to himself. He was to chastised to ask for instructions, didn't want another telling off from old man Jameson. "How am I supposed to get the pictures?" he muttered. Well, a picture of Harry Potter was easy - is daughter had so many of them covering the walls in her bedroom. But a picture of a woman? If his wife learned he wanted one of these, she'd never let him forget it. No, he had to make sure he got a picture that would make it perfectly clear it was completely a professional matter.
A couple of hours passed, and Draco was getting annoyed. He searched high and low, had a close call with angry centaur, a near run-in with some humongous blast-ended skrewts, and was nearly ran over by a sentient muggle car. Who would imagine! He'd have words with his father about it, get the place cl- oh, right, his father was in Ministerial custody. 'Drat.'
A glimpse of silver, however, brought Draco out of his musings. Looking up, he saw what he's been looking for all along: A unicorn. Tall, proud and majestic, the magical beast stood there, chewing on a mushroom. And doing his business, too.
"Hey there," called Malfoy. "Ain't you a pretty? can I have a few of your tail hairs?" he said as he approached the colt. Inwardly, he was sneering at the stupid creature.
The stupid creature, however, was inwardly sneering at Draco. And wasn't pleased to be interrupted, especially not in the middle of such intimate activity. So, when Draco came close, it rose on its hind-legs and gave Draco a good, swift kick. Draco narrowly escaped breaking his wrist (Even Malfoys learn sometimes, and a run-in with an angry hypogriff is good motivation to learn. They do say experience is the best teacher...), but he did fall to the ground, in a world of pain. To add a bruise to the beating, he fell backwards, and hit his head on a low, somewhat sharp, branch, To add insult to injury, he ricocheted to the side, where he eventually landed in the pile of manure (otherwise known as "horse shit") the stud was making just moments before.
'Right', thought Draco, before blacking out.
Paul just arrived back at the ward, returning back from his tea break. He complained about his problem to a friend, of sorts, an orderly called Buck, who came up with the perfect solution. He held today's Daily Prophet to him, where a blown up photograph of one Dolores Umbridge who did something or another, smiled nastily at him. 'Yes,' he thought, 'that would do perfectly.' He went to Snape's room, where he found Healer Brown and a Friend. They were introduced ("Damn it, Lucy, don't call me Nymphadora! and you, you, Paul, don't even think about it, you won't like the results!") and the pretty Auror taught him a few pleasuring spells. (This was getting better and better, and his wife, for once, wouldn't find anything to complain about, too...) Then he set to work.
"Thanks, Nymph- Tonks," said Lucy. "I owe you one."
Eventually, Draco came too, but, stubborn as he is, refused to give up. Slytherin as he is, he decided to take the indirect approach, and sneak on a unicorn instead of doing the Harry Potter Gryffindor head-on approach.
Which is how he nearly ended up acquiring acromentula venom instead of unicorn hair. Which wouldn't have been so bad, as it fetches a hefty price as well, if it wasn't for the fact the gigantic arachnoid was set on delivering the venom straight into Draco's blood circulation. Nearly is the key word here, as he also nearly avoided being squashed by a small giant who has taken to gathering acromentula (venom and everything else included) for his cooking pots since being exposed to his friend "Hermy"'s favorite snack - cockroach clusters. (His big brother, Rubeus Hagrid, haven't spoken to him in days after he learned about his habit of eating poor Aragog's little babies, and tried to get him hooked on ferrets instead. Luckily, perhaps, to Draco Malfoy, Hagrid wasn't quite successful in his endeavors. And he had yet to run into any hypogriffs.)
Eventually he spotted a young unicorn leaning
over and munching on grass at the forest's floor. Thanking his father
for getting rid of those pesky underage tracking charms on his wand,
he cast a
silencing charm on his feet, and set to sneak on Harry Potter. 'Err, the unicorn', he corrected himself.
To make things short, his silent approach went perfectly - he didhave lots of practice doing just that, after all. It was when he reached to grab a few threads from the animal's tail and plucked them, that he encountered a reflexive reaction on the magical mount's part. At the sudden pain in his behind, the young unicorn's hoof went backwards in a powerful kick, hitting Draco in the shin, cutting a deep gash in it, and slipping upwards to finally come to a halt in the boy's (still?) groin. Collapsing to the ground, Draco now wished he had blackened out. Alas, he did not, and so, mightily pissed off, he took out his wand, and just diffindo!ed the damn tail. As the baby unicorn skittered to get away, a bunch of shiny, pearly-white hair fell to the ground. Triumphantly (as much as he could master, bend over as he was,) Draco gathered the hair and put it away in his (now much torn) robe's pocket. As he looked up again, he saw a very large unicorn descending upon him, coming his way - much to quickly for his liking, particularly as the most prominent thing he could see of the beast was its very big, very sharp horn, pointed in his general direction.
"Ayieyaieyiayey!" he shouted, skimping out of the way.
Healer Lucy Brown was quite pleased with herself. She just had a session with the ward's favorite patient, Sniveluos Snape, and, after much discussion, made scream he hated Potters.
'Good job' she congratulated herself in her mind. The patient has gone from having sexual fantasies of the boy to hating the very thought of his existence. Their treatments were working, in spite of all the resilient man's resistance. 'Outsmarted the little beast,' she thought, 'Healer Jacksson would be so proud!' Still, having the patient going from a sick love to full-fledged all-out hatred was but one step, and wouldn't do. Taking him to the other extremity was the first step in finally setting him on the correct middle path, where he will not fantasize about molesting the Potter kid, nor of torturing for days on.
Now they had to teach the potions professor indifference.
'Magically induced apathy, perhaps?' she thought. 'Have to remember to ask if there's any potion for that.'
Draco ran. And ran. And ran. Eventually, he noticed the unicorn was no longer on his trail. "Out smarted the little beast!" he said. 'Professor Snape would be proud.' he thought.
Draco stopped running. Propped against a tree trunk, he paused to catch his breath. He quickly gathered his breath in the cool air, and was set to go - with a little limp, and a few gashes that would need to be looked at, but he was fine, and good to go. The air, however, was cool for an august afternoon because of the breeze going through the Scottish background. A breeze that not only carried colder air with it, but also other things, like smell, odor, and scent. Which is why shortly after Draco came to a halt he felt his many wounds being licked by invisible tongues.
"Ayieyaieyiayey!" he shouted again.
Then he ran.
"Master Shnurfell," began Lucy, "I wanted to ask you - I have a very emotional patient, who has developed a strong hatred that is clouding his judgement and thought processes, and I'm afraid the usual calming draughts and charms are simply not enough for him. I was wondering if you can help me here? Perhaps if you have any apathy potion? Or could make one?"
"Well, Lucy," said the aged potion-master, I know just the right potion for you, dear. I could easily brew it, only trouble is, it needs some unicorn tail hair for ingredients, ground to fine powder, and those are just too expensive - they are not covered in the hospital's insurance policy, I'm afraid."
The young healer's face fell.
The hospital's potion brewer tried to lift her worries. "You could appeal to Purchase & Procurement, though." he said. "Maybe they will relent. I know they got a few unicorn hairs for bandaging that ministry worker who got bitten by that snake lat year, what was his name, Ferretly or something?"
Lucy smiled. "Thank you, Master Shnurfell." she said.
"Please call me Snufkin." he said.
Draco wondered in Knockturn Alley, looking for a vendor to sell his hair to. He saw a giant of a man handling what looked to his somewhat expert eye to be ground bicorn horn. Figuring he might be interested, and decided to try his luck with the man. "Hey there, are you interested in some unicorn hair, perhaps?"
"Sure, kid, show me what you've got." replied the man.
But Draco wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, and this was Knocturn Alley, after all. "Not so fast, boyo." he said gallantly. "First we set a price."
"Alright." agreed the vendor. "How does five sickles a hair sound to you, kid?"
"Five sickles a hair?" Draco shouted. "That's a rip off! They sell them for ten galleons at Alpacus Apchee's Apothecary! And don't call me 'kid'." he added.
The huge man laughed. "And old Alpacus buys them for five, he does.", he said.
"Five sickles?" asked Draco, sneering. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that rubbish? I ain't falling for that old line."
"Oh, no," said the vendor. "He buys them for five galleons, the old man does."
"Then I will sell them to you for five galleons." declared Draco, imperially.
"Oh ho,' laughed the man. "You will, will you? You couldn't even sell them to Apchee for that - he does it all above board. I doubt you have the right credentials, licensing, guild membership, health bill ad everything else required? Thought not. Tell you what. As you're a nice kid, I'll agree to give you fifteen sickles! It's three times the price, how 'bout that?"
"Make it seventeen sickles a hair, and I'll sell them to you." said Draco. "You don't leave me much choice, do you?"
"No, not really." agreed the man. "A galleon a hair? I'spouse I could live with that. You got yourself a deal. Now, show me the merchandise."
"Show me the money first." said Draco. You had to be tough with these people, that's how it always went in the adventure books he read as a child.
The man tossed a small money bag to Draco, who caught it, and, after handing over the handkerchief-full of unicorn tail hair, trying to save face after his earlier display of lack of knowledge about the market price, and hoping he wasn't ripped off, commenced to do things that would make him, or at least he believed they would, appear to be an experienced dealer, counting the money, biting a coin (alas, it was bronze, not gold, and Draco broke a tooth.) and so forth.
The vendor looked the unicorn hair over, ran some checks over it, and wasn't pleased at what he saw. "Why, you little rat!" he shouted. Trying to cheat Uncle Bubba, are you? The hair wasn't plucked, it was cut! With a spell! No one cheats Uncle Bubba!" he grabbed Draco, who was busy massaging his gums in pain, and shook him. Looking him over, he noticed the kid looked familiar, like he's known him for a long time. On closer scrutiny, realization hit. Known him indeed! He looked like a carbon copy of his prison bitch, Luci! He knew just how to deal with that brood.
"You must see a healer, Draco." said Andromeda. "However, I don't think your mother would like people to know what you do in your spare time. Perhaps-" here she stopped to grab some Floo powder. "Nymphadora!" she called once the flames turned green, "do you think that nice friend of you, Lucy, the healer, would be so kind to make a house call? And please, ask her to be discreet?"
"Sure thing, mum," said Tonks, "she owns me one. But I asked you how many times before not to call me that!"
"But dear, one day you will be married, you wouldn't be a Tonks anymore, what would people call you then?"
"We'll apparate over the river when we reach it, mum. Right now I can't have anyone even look at me that way!" Tonks wailed.
"Of course you can't, deary. If you insisted on not being called Nymphadora..." said her mother.
"Oh, shoot." said Tonks, then she was out.
Long thing short, Healer Brown came, took a look at Draco's teeth and proclaimed it outside her field of expertise, but she could recommend a few experts if they wanted.
"I'm such a failure as a healer!" she whined to Tonks afterwards. "Nothing I do seems to help. I come with a perfect cure, but they can't produce it. I make a house call on a patient, and turn out to be completely useless. I mean, a mediwitch could deal with that, but I, a fully-fledged healer, breaking down the male-healer wall, can't!"
"Tell me about it," said Tonks. "I made it into the Aurors, got everyone to get over the fact I'm a girl, then first thing I run into a thief, botch it completely, causing my partner to lose a limb in the process, in an attempt to yank me out of harm's way. Lucky it ended there - last time I floundered, my cousin tried to defend me, and ended up dead." she sniffed. Trying to cheer up, she continued, "But what's that perfect cure you mentioned, something you came up with, tell me about it?"
"Well," said Lucy, "I matched a potion to a patient, but Potions told me it's too expensive to brew, and Procurement refuse to make allowance, something about Food eating all the hospital's budget with a sudden craving for dairy among the patients - and staff. Unicorn hair! Ten galleons a hair, and I need a spoon and a half of fine grind hair! That's like two hundred galleons! I'd pay for the treatment myself to help the poor man, but I don't have that kind of money. I could have asked my parents, but they are a little short on money right now, they had a lot of expenses recently, furbishing my little sister and making her presentable and desirable so she could catch one of her fellow Gryffindors as a husband. Besides, I'm somewhat of a disappointment to them, unmarried, unattached, professional. Not tom mention - well, they really hate you." Not wanting to aggravate her friend, Lucy hurriedly went back to the subject of unicorn hair. "Procurement finally gave in and agreed to allow eleven galleons and six sickles for the purchase, but that would still leave me around a hundred and ninety short!"
Draco couldn't help to overhear the loud conversation. 'Eleven galleons!' he thought. Not much, by his old standards, yet it would be eleven galleons more then he had now.
"I happen to have unicorn hair to spare, not much to do with it all, I'll be glad to sell it to you for that price." he said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Really?" Lucy cried with a chirp. "Wonderful. Do you think you can grind it too?" she asked.
"Sure!" Draco said, and went to grind the hair he had to fine powder using one of the spells professor Snape taught the Slytherins but no one else, forcing the Gryffindors to dirty their hands.
In short order, Lucy was on her way back to the hospital to tell procurement the good news. She Flooed the Tonkses with the pay, then went down to Potions.
'Oh, Snivelous would be so glad when he's finally healed!', she thought. 'I'll be sorry to see him leave.'
"You be a good patient and gulp this down now, Snape." said Paul.
"I'm not imbibing any more of those vile concoctions Longbottommade." yelled Snape. "And you won't make me!"
"Longbottom?" asked Paul. "No Longbottom made this, it was Snufkin Shnurfell, out resident potion master."
"Oh," said Snape, relenting. "then it's Okay, give it here." and drank the potion.
Never did get how Olivander sells wands with unicorn hair, when Slughorn toasts to friendship and ten galleons a hair, and, going back to Ron's broken wand in CoS, there were several strands going out.
I think healer Jackson was Snape's healer, the one who enjoyed torturing him for making his students fail, and Lucy Brown the young one from Beauxbatons, who wanted to help her patient? I might have confused the senior healer with the one the Dark Bunnies kidnapped to bring to Hermione's mum, or are they the same one?
I know now a Weasley is minister that name has become part of every household, still, all those Wetherby jokes got to me an I couldn't resist making some jokes on the Weasley name myself.
Food eating up all the budget with a sudden craving for dairy - well, all the yogurt they use on Snape has to come from somewhere, doesn't it? Speaking of which, I never got this one. Why yogurt?
IIRC, Lucy said she had a sibling in Hogwarts, as her parents didn't want to put all the eggs in the same basket or something like that? Her last name is Brown, like Lavender, and her initials are L.B., also like Lavender, I figured it's not a far stretch of mind to assume they are sisters. Now, I may be wrong, I wrote a wonderful piece about Roger and Tracy, only to have my Beta write me back one is Davis and the other Davies, one is pure-blood, the other half-blood. Which seriously cramped my style. Still, that's what Betas are for. So, if I'm wrong about that, all it needs is removing that line about Lucy's parents short on cash because of her sister (Lavender), it doesn't add much to this story, only opens the door for future fun. I figured, if Lavender's parents hate Tonks, Tonks looks to be on the way in on the Harry end of business, and they were hoping their daughter would entice him, that would lead to much Rorschach's style misunderstandings. Oh well.
Buck I borrowed from the motion picture "Kill Bill". I guess, after being found at renting the patients bodies out, he was kicked out of St. Mingo's, and couldn't show his face in the magiacl world in Britain, and well, Britain is a small place (relatively so). So the squib orderly just went to do the same in a new country - in the muggle world, in Southern United States. At least, it works in conjunction with some (not so good) loose scenes I wrote from Madam Scarlet. Incidentally, after Uncle Bubba, not to mention with unicorns, working for Ginny would be an upgrade. I suspect that's where Rors' is planning on taking it eventually, sending Draco to find work and everything, at least.
Anyway, I would let you decide what will happen to Snape after consuming a potion made with unicorn hair that lost its magical properties, being acquired, gathered, handled and treated with magic when none should have been used? Supposedly, unicorn hair is good for healing - which is why Hagrid uses it, and I made it part of Arthur Weasley's cure. So perhaps it serves also to buffer some other ingredient in the potion that would otherwise be harmful to the consumer - or just bring about other (much) undesired, and undesirable, results?
More by moshehim
"Far be it from me to come between the two of you"., but I'd say chapter 27 would be a good start," said Luna. "Only I know ou already promissed Harry to do thaqt whenever he wants to. So... I went ahead and got you a new book, Hermione, you might like to read."
Hermione's eyes lit. She could never refuse new books. So she asked:
"What, it- oh..." she said, as she read the title on the cover. It read: 'How to please two women at the same time.'
"And when you finish this one, Hermione," said Luna, "I got the sequel for you." she handed Hermione a second book. It's title read 'How to please THREE women at the same time!"
Harry picked up the first book, read the title, and got a sort of skewered, twisted expression onm his face. He simply didn't know weather to frown or to smirk, so he settled on both. Instead, he asked, "Where did you get this, Luna?"
"Oh, well," the girl started, "When Tim left, all his old girlfriends were rather disappointed, so they had Dark Lord Jeremy write this book for them so they could train a - somewhat – suitable replacement. I have a cousin wioth the Dark Bunnies, you know – you met her, you remember? Gretchen?"
"Well, she gave those to me. Said her master is working on a new book, for four girls at a time, promised to get me a first edition early, authographed, even!" Luna exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Well, tell her thank you for me," said Harry. "Okay?"
Harry's face untwisted. Finally, the smirk has won.
One by khadon99 . . .
With a reminder of the Snape torturing in this chapter another possible scene idea came to mind. Not realizing that Snape wasn't completely loyal, some of the remaining Death Eaters go to break him out of the hospital. Upon arriving they see what's being done to him and burst out into laughter. Many of them are from the younger generation you had him as a teacher and something like this conversation takes place:
DeathEaterA: "You know, it does kinda look like he's happy here. Why don't we just leave him to enjoy himself."
DeathEaterB: "Actually it looks like he's trying to scream in pain. Also, his eyes make me think of all those picture of muggles who've been tortured. You know, the ones they show us to psych us up before a raid? It's like he's begging for salvation."
DeathEaterA: "Nah, it's just your imagination."
The two Death Eaters turn and start to walk away.
DeathEaterA: "Besides, he was always a bit of a prick while he taught us."
DeathEaterB: "Weren't you in Slytherin?"
DeathEaterA: "Yeah...he was still a prick though."
A few by neil reynolds . . .
don't know how to arrange it, but the Scarlet Witch and Draco Malfoy
could work well together. Both are extremely selfish, and uncaring
about their acquaintances, both are cunning and occasionally
clever, and both could see the value in working together.
had this image of the two of them as partners, perhaps without
realizing who she is, perhaps because his mental image of Ginny is nothing like the real scarlet witch. I had the image of the two of them chiding each other over failing to successfully betray each other.
"You really shouldn't have tossed that explosive potion at me!"
"Well if you hadn't poisoned the doorknob I had to open, I wouldn't have needed my hands free, would I?"
"You could have at least have tossed it underhand."
"You caught it, didn't you?"
"Yes, but I had to drop the asp I was planning on giving you as a surprise gift."
"Stop moaning. You're not the only one with troubles. Your asp set off a fire trap I was saving to give you on a special occasion!"
"Harry Potter, you will be taken from this place to a place of execution and there you will be hung... what? Oh, I see. It seems you were caught running through Diagon alley without any clothes while being chased by all three of your wives. The court finds you guilty and levies a fine of five galleons payable to the clerk of the court; and may God have mercy on your immortal soul!"
Tonks stomped up to Harry and Hermione. "Do you have any idea how many months it took for me to track down the Fox and Hound? Do you? I just want to know one thing; did you know before our marriage, that there's still laws on the books making it illegal for a wife to be required to testify against her spouse?"
Author's note: This was the law in England, at least at the end of the nineteenth century. I'm drawing a blank but it did figure heavily in a plot of a book considered literature, perhaps by Thomas Hardy.
With Hermione's children continuing the family line of Potter, and Luna's children continuing the line of Black. The spirits of the dead were worried about a looming catastrophe on the horizon.
Sirius Black and his mother were simultaneously approving of the family line's continuance.
"She's a radical! She'd do anything. She pranks the whole world!"
"Nonsense! She's Grindelwald's enforcer's granddaughter! She knows all of the old customs and follows them as best she can."
"She twists the old customs until they're unrecognizable!"
"We've always accepted eccentricities in the old families. Granted, hers don't seem to have arisen out of consanguinity, but the principle remains the same!"
A letter by David Brown, can't help but feel this could be a great addition to another story . . .
Dear Mrs. Malfoy:
the son of Mobuto Ponzi, the Nigerian Minister of Magic,
who was recently imprisoned unjustly for his brave efforts to cull our
nation's mudblood refuse. I humbly request your assistance in moving
5.8 million galleons out of Nigeria to safety. The Minister's family
needs your help. With your support, his family will be able to hire
hit wizards to rescue the Minister and return him to power. The
Minister's wife will gladly pay you a transaction fee of 10, and has
assured me that a grateful Nigeria would be proud to provide
substantial assistance to your Dark Lord's efforts to cleanse Britain
of filth. Please contact me immediately. Time is of the essence,
because if the mudblood usurpers discover the Minister's hidden funds
before they are removed from Nigeria, all will be lost.
Yours in purity,
David Brown, Esq.
?I?ve been naughty.?
?Uh-huh. What?d you do??
?Well?? she hedged.
?The longer it takes you to tell me, the longer it is you wait for
your punishment,? Ron explained.
?I entered your name in for a game show, Master.?
?My great-uncle works on the set at Wiz Wireless and they need a
big-name celebrity to bring in some new ratings. He asked me for help
and I immediately thought you could do it. There?s no bigger celebrity
?And by bigger, you mean?? began a second voice.
?Elizabeth! Now, Gretchen. I appreciate your faith in me, but I?m back
in school. How can I possibly go to this game show??
?Oh, it?s next Hogsmeade weekend, Master. We?ll be able to make sure
your detention includes you going to the studio.?
?Well, I guess it can?t hurt. What?s the worst that can happen? But
you?ve been bad, Gretchen. You need to be punished.?
?How about me, master? I?ve been bad as well. I didn?t stop Gretchen
?Okay, Elizabeth, you get some punishment as well.?
?Yay!? they both chorused.
?Dean, there you are. You okay?? Seamus said.
?God, no. I?ve been reading these Malfoy hair charms and it?s
nauseating. Nothing quite like perusing ?Cowlick Avoidance and it?s
hundreds of variant uses.? You?d think they?d have come up with a
better use for their time than constantly worrying about their hair.?
?So how did your talk with McGonagall go??
?Awful. I need to rethink my plan as a man-whore.?
?Then I?ve got just the thing for you, mate. I?ve recently read an
article and I know how you can meet some eligible chicks.?
?Does it involve me reading any more of these Malfoy books??
?Don?t think so.?
?Then count me in.?
?Wormtongue! Wormtongue!! Where is that blasted rat?! Voldemort said
to himself as he paced around the house looking for his lackey. Good
evil hench help was so hard to find.
As he walked by the kitchen table, the open Prophet caught his eye. He
scanned the headlines to see if any of his nefarious plans had made it
to the main page (instead of being shuffled to the last pages near the
horoscope). They hadn?t. Blast it! What?s it take to get back on the
front page of the paper?!
Coincidently, just then a new article caught his eye. He read it. A
sinister grin split his face. ?This is it. My ticket back to the big
time. Yes, I think I will battle the Dark Lord Ron Jeremy for the
affections of this wench. I will confront this Ron Jeremy on this game
show (whatever that is) and ruin his image before I crush him.
Minions! Attend me!?
?Blast it, where are all my minions! Wormtongue!?
A few days later?
?Okay, fellahs, the three of you wait here??
?It?s dark,? pointed out a surly voice.
?Um, yes. We?re trying to keep the audience in suspense as to who all
the contestants are.?
?Weren?t they expecting me anyway?? another voice, Ron, pointed out.
?Um, yes. But then there?s the others here with you.?
?It?s still dark.?
?Give it a rest, will ya, pal?? a third voice said from the first
chair. ?Jeez, you whine like an old crone.?
??mutter?mumble?you?ll rue the day?mutter.?
Moments later the lights all came up and the audience got to see a
live version of their favorite game show, The Dating Game! ?Welcome
one all in our audience today! I?m Burt Hearththrob, your host and
we?re ready to play another fantastic round of? The Dating Game!?
A smattering of applause could be heard from the audience.
?Thank you, thank you, you?re too kind. First, I want to introduce
everyone to our bachelors. Of course our bachelorette is currently
inside an anti-listening spell so she won?t hear any of this. Bachelor
#1, tell us a little about yourself.?
?Uh, my name is Dean. I?m young. Single. Looking for a good time. And
not interested in old crones.?
?Fair enough. Any hobbies??
?I fought some crime over the summer. At least I was led to believe I
?Excellent! Bachelor #2, tell us about yourself.?
?My name is Vendy Noglamourused??
?Wow, what a name! I haven?t heard that on any of the pureblood polls.?
?Uh, yeah, I came up with it all myself.?
?Um, I mean, it?s a family name. Been around a long time. I changed it
to its English counterpart when I moved here from the mainland years ago.?
?Oh, okay. Lots of people do that. So what?s on your agenda, Vendy??
?Oh the usual. Pursue my goals of taking over the world.?
?Oh, ho, ho, ho, that?s good. You?re a quick wit, Vendy. And good luck
to you. Lastly, I?d like to introduce the final bachelor, Dark Lord
Ron Jeremy. My, that?s certainly an interesting getup, Mr. Dark Lord.?
?Thanks. The girls made it for me.?
?Whoo-hoo! Master is the greatest!? yelled a voice from off-stage.
?Thanks, girls!? Ron yelled back, waving at them.
?Isn?t this game going to start soon?? Vendy said in irritation. ?I
have things I want to do. People I want to crush in front of an audience.?
?And a girl to impress, eh?? Burt winked at the second bachelor.
Back at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore listened more intently to his
wireless. ?That voice. I recognize that voice,? he muttered to himself.
?Yes, Fawkes, it?s him. I?d know that voice anywhere. We know where he
is. We can take the battle to him! Quick, to the Batmobile! I mean, do
you mind flaming us to the studio??
?And now our Bachelorette, Miss Marie Moonshine, come on out!?
?Wow, this is fun,? Marie said to a grinning Burt.
?Indeed it is, Miss Moonshine. Here, have a seat and tell us a little
?My name is Marie. It?s my middle name. It?s more fun than my first
name. I?m looking for a bachelor to spend some quality time with. And
when I heard about this show, I thought it would be fun to audition.
And here I am.?
?Great summary, Marie. Let?s get started. You have your questions ready??
?Go ahead and start when you?re ready,? Burt instructed.
Sitting on a stool, Marie leaned forward to read her notes and then
said in a loud voice, ?Bachelor #1: what is your idea of a romantic
?A little bit of music, a small dinner, and a lot of privacy to enjoy.
And by privacy, I mean privacy so we don?t get interrupted as we have
?Oh, my. Bachelor #2, same question.?
?I would have my minions scramble to get you something to drink, eat,
and then someone to curse.?
?Uh, square dancing??
?Moving on? Bachelor #3, what?s your idea of a romantic evening??
?We?d go to a Quidditch game,? Ron replied.
?How is that romantic??
?You?d be surprised at how energetic I am when my Quidditch team wins.?
?And how often do they win??
?Oh, whenever the girls and I play Lap the Quidditch Team.?
?Uh-huh. And your position is what exactly? Coach??
?Nope. I?m a one-person Quidditch team. The girls like it better that
?Whoo-hoo! You tell it, Master!?
The audience laughed and clapped.
?Okay, Bachelor #2. Which of these options is more appealing: growing
old with someone you know and love, or knowing someone for a long time
before actually asking them out??
?Uh, having never been a recipient of the former, I will have to say
?Okay. Bachelor #1, same question.?
?Neither,? Dean replied. ?I?m not waiting until someone is an old
crone before I ask her out, and I?m not planning on becoming old
myself if I can help it.?
?Wait,? Vendy interjected. ?I meant to say that.?
?Coughloser!? Dean coughed into his hand.
?Did you just say something?? Vendy glared at Bachelor #1.
?Not that you?d know,? Ron suggested.
?Uh-huh. Moving on. Bachelor #3. What do you find more desirable ? a
long-term relationship or lots of casual sex??
?Care to explain that??
?Sure. A long term relationship with all my girls with lots of casual
sex. I can?t stand formal sex. Too rigid.?
?Uh, okay. Bachelor #1, same question.?
?I have to agree with the Dark Lord a bit. I?d like a long-term
relationship with lots of casual sex in it. Keeps it interesting.?
?Oh my,? Marie fanned herself with the printouts of her questions. ?Is
it getting hot in here or is that just me??
?It?s the lights illuminating the stage,? Bachelor #2 inserted. ?It?s
making everything around here hot.?
?Coughloser!? Ron coughed into his hand.
?Are you unwell, Dark Lord?? Vendy wondered with a surge of annoyance.
?I?m fine. Not sure about you,? Ron smirked.
?I don?t get it,? Vendy admitted.
?I?m sure you don?t,? Dean agreed.
?Bachelor #2,? Marie began after regaining her composer. ?If two
trains left their stations at exactly the same time and one was going
70kph and the other 20kph slower, at what time would they meet in time
for a tryst??
?Hwah?? Vendy burbled.
?Psst, Vendy,? Dean whispered. ?It?s a trick question. F-Y-I.?
?That?s a trick question, Miss Moonshine. Everyone knows trains only
go one speed. Forward.?
?Uh-huh. Bachelor #1: same question. At what time would these two
trains meet in time for a tryst??
?Why, they?d meet in the middle for some funky groove action, baby.
Kind of like you and me and bedroom makes three.?
?Ooooohhhh,? the audience and Marie ooooohhhhed in appreciation.
?Hey, that?s what I meant to say,? Vendy interjected. ?Quit taking my
?Who said that? Fess up right now or I?ll crucio everyone here!?
?Well I?m sure it wasn?t me,? Burt quickly said, stopping another
cough from coming out. ?Maybe it was someone off stage??
?I?ll find you, whoever you are!?
?I?m sure you will, Vendy. Now, let?s get back to the game. One
question left before the big decision. Marie, whenever you?re ready.?
?Okay, Bachelor #2. You sound a little agitated. You might be in the
right frame of mind to think of this. The question is: how long can
you make whoopee??
?Is that a new curse I?ve heard about??
?Sure. That?s it,? Marie agreed. ?Coughloser. Oh, my. Excuse me.?
The audience laughed appreciatively.
?Bachelor #3: same question. How long can you make whoopee??
?Hmmm. Good question. You know, I really haven?t timed it, but I?m
sure the girls have. Why don?t I have them send over some stats if
you?re still interested after the show.?
?Sure. That always works. Bachelor #1: same question. How long can you
?All night and all day, baby. As long as you?re not an old crone.?
?Hey, I meant to say that!? insisted Volde? er? Vendy.
?Okay, Marie, you?ve had a chance to talk to all the bachelors. Are
you ready to make your decision?? Burt hammed it up for the audience.
?Oh, absolutely. But first, I want to give a big kiss to all the
bachelors, even bachelor #2 because I definitely won?t be picking him.
He?s too much like a dork.?
?Dork?! exclaimed Vendy.
?If the shoe fits,? Marie agreed. ?And since Bachelor #3 already has a
posse of girls to wait on him, I?m selecting the best Bachelor
available and that?s Bachelor #1.?
Hesitantly, Dean got off his stool and came around the wall to see the
Bachelorette. ?Whoo-hoo!? he crowed. ?I scored a hottie! A young
hottie! In your face, losers!?
The crowd, applauding and laughing at his comment, suddenly shushed as
Dark Lord Ron Jeremy got up, walked over to the winner, and, towering
over Dean, slapped him on the back. ?Good for you, Dean. You deserve it.?
?You know, your voice sounds familiar. Do I know you??
?Um? no,? he responded in a slightly deeper tone.
?Congratulations both of you,? Burt said, putting an arm around Marie
and Dean. ?Bob, since we obviously don?t have any other bachelorettes
for the runners up??
?Speak for yourself,? Ron smirked.
?Uh, right. Bob, what do the runner?s up receive??
A magically enhanced voice boomed across the stage as Bob described
what the runners up would be getting instead of a date with a hottie.
?Well, Burt, the two runners up will be getting a gift basket filled
with yummies like Rice-A-Roni, that San Francisco treat! And some
popcorn. At least, that?s what the muggles told me when I bought it.?
?Good enough, Bob. And now, Marie and Dean, here?s what you win today.
It?s a deluxe weekend accommodation at a muggle motel in Paris,
France! Yes, that?s right. You two will enjoy a portkey to Paris where
you will be housed in a quaint and somewhat modern motel renovated
only last century on the outskirts of the famed metropolitan. The room
has only one bed so make use of it like I know you two hip cats will.?
?What?s a hip cat?? Dean said.
?Uh, yeah,? Burt stammered, then continued on. ?Additionally, we have
another prize for you from the Dark Lord Ron Jeremy himself. Mr. Dark
?Thanks, Burt. Dean, Marie ? I want you to know that I?ve used some
special magic to create this first ever device to help you with your
romantic weekend. It?s called an Orgazmitron and it??
?Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! You will all bow before the true dark lord,
?Isn?t he the Dork Lord now?? Dean pointed out.
The audience laughed.
?Shut up! All of you! I don?t need you! I don?t need anyone to make me
a true dark lord again! I?m a dark lord, I tell! A dark lord!!
?I?m pretty sure I won the Dark Lord election,? Ron stalled for time
until the aurors could get there and arrest this lunatic. ?Voldemort
won the Dork Lord. I saw the results in the paper.?
Marie put in, ?You know, it?s pretty dorky to not know you?re a dork
The audience laughed.
?I can?t stand it here anymore! Give me that prize! You don?t need it!
I?m going to take it and with my advanced knowledge of dark magic,
I?ll use it to find out everything there is to know about this
?Orgazmitron, you dork,? Burt said.
The audience laughed again.
?Shut up! All of you! I?m taking everything! Gimme the prizes! Now
I?ve got them, and my crushing you will wait until I?ve unraveled the
spell on this thing! Goodbye, chumps!? And with that, the Dork Lord
Voldemort apparated back to his lair.
Burt turned to the official Dark Lord and said, ?Mr. Dark Lord. I had
no idea he was here. Are you concerned he is going to unravel any of
your spellwork on that Orgazmitron??
?Nah. Not really. It?s a one-use only spell that is activated by
touching it. And since it wasn?t wearing any gloves when he grabbed it??
A half hour later back in Voldemort?s sanctum, a laid back Dork Lord
got off the cough. ?Man, that was wicked. Hmmm, now I?m hungry. Wonder
what?s in the gift basket? Oh, hey, that looks good??
NEXT SCENE HAPPENS IMMEDIATELY BEFORE OR AS PART OF EPILOGUE:
Later that morning, in Paris:
?Morning, honey,? Dean grinned at the hottie he was in bed with.
Marie opened her eyes and greeted, ?Hiya, sonny.?
Marie said, ?Sorry about that. Just a term I?d heard a few times. Say
you look like you could use a shower.?
Dean took a cautious whiff of himself. ?Whew, I guess I do. I?ll be
right back and we can pick up where we left off.?
?You do that,? Marie agreed, leaning back to watch Dean head to the
Moments after the water turned on and she heard him get in, she was up
and heading towards to the fireplace to make a floo-call.
?Blanche, get up!?
Within seconds, a bleary-eyed 80-year old?s face was in the fire.
?Augusta-Marie, what?s up? You with Dean??
?Yes. The plan worked. Get the rest of the girls together. And don?t
forget to have them get those glamours in place. I don?t want him
running off like last time.?
Blanche produced a feral grin. ?Don?t want that to happen. You sure
he?ll go for it??
Augusta-Marie Longbottom nee Moonshine shrugged her shoulders. ?Eh,
he?s a young man. All he thinks about is sex. We?re just giving him
what he wants. Mostly. Besides, what he doesn?t know won?t hurt him.?
?You got it, Augusta. Anything else??
She thought for a moment. ?Yes. And this is important. Make sure no
one calls him sonny.?
Addition by moshehim
"Listen, Neville," said Ron. "I feel bad for dean, since Voldemort
ran away with the Orgazmatron, so I made him another. Anyway, I'd
pop in and give it him myself, but that wouldn't be appropriate, me,
the second runner up, interrupting the winner in the middle of
recieving his prize. Plus, I have to punis the girls for not having
my back there in the show, so I'l be rather busy in the coming
hours. So could you do me a favour and deliver this to him?"
"Sure thing, my Lord," said Neville and soon he was on his way to
"Hey, Dean, I come from the Dark Lord, he asked that I'd deliv- Hey,
you bastard, you're screwing my grandma again!"
Other people's scene. Lost the name for these ones, they've been credited in the fics but I can't find the names.
What is Slytherin family spells? Long life/Immortality? Something else?
Maybe Fox & Hound had stolen Slytherin spells and Lily had modified some of them - that's why Harry lived after AK.
Let's imagine that Harry and Hermione found Lily's records.
"So, with that spell you can deflect killing curse?"
"Yes, but it takes a sacrifice. Your mother sacrificed herself..."
Harry looked sad but made an effort to think rationally "Is it necessary that a caster sacrificed oneself? Could someone else be sacrificed?"
"Harry! You cannot..."
"Even if it's Voldemort?"
"Oh... Well, it will require portable instant-expanding altar..."
"When you say 'portable' or 'instant-expanding' you should go to Fred and George."
"Sure? After they made that portable swamp everything 'portable' from their hands has either smell of swamp or moss in some places."
"Hmm? Where you know it from? I thought you was not interested in their inventions so much?"
"Angelina. After that experimental portable bed she cannot look at frogs without a shudder. And don't ever think I'm not interested in useful inventions."
"Yes dear. If you want portable bed with frogs..."
"You better shut up or I'm ordering a portable couch."
AN: I had a lot of help writing this story and I had a few things left over, couldn't finish until I tossed these in. Had a lot of fun writing this fic, hope you had fun reading it.