Note to new readers: This is probably the worst introduction to the series I could possibly have, but I'm not sure if I should replace it with something else. I would strongly recommend skipping to the next chapter (or better yet chapters 3, 4 or 5) to get a feeling for what the series of drabbles is actually like - a set of short story ideas/abandoned plot bunnies. The most popular chapters are 7, 11, 12 and 15 - you could probably start there and have a much better reading experience. Please don't judge the rest of the series on this first chapter. It's best skipped, really.

Will He Be Happy – Outtakes.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company are wholly owned by J.K. Rowling et. al. I am making no profit from their work. Um… I did write Will He Be Happy, though.

A\N – If I can't mock myself, somebody else will. If you've got more for me, send 'em in via PM (or ask for my email address through PM), I'll post 'em and give you credit.

Warning: Contains spoilers for the relevant chapters of Will He Be Happy.

Chapter One:

-No, seriously, despite what you think, Potter isn't gay-

Snape threw his hands into the air. "For the last bloody time, Albus, Potter IS! NOT! GAY!"

"But… what about that time in the fourth-floor girl's bathroom? And all those times in my office? And the broom closets? And the vacation we shared in the Turkish Bathhouse? Or all of those trips to see Broadway Musicals followed by my penthouse suite?" Albus whimpered.

"That wasn't Potter, that was polyjuice," Snape replied, "each and every time."

"How can you be so certain?" Albus asked, shocked.

"I've got needs, old friend. I've got needs."

Chapter One:

- Hmmm… so Hermione might not be the only one to fit the criteria-

Snape stared at Albus. "What the boy needs is a woman who, time and time again, has shown that she is willing to care for him, no matter the damage. A woman who's spent hours alone with Harry, who will always accept him into her bed. A woman who will make sure he heals, that he'll take care of himself."

Albus nodded sagely. "Who do you have in mind?"

"Madam Pomfrey, of course."

Chapter One:

-Not gay: redux-

Snape threw his hands into the air. "For the last bloody time, Albus, Potter IS! NOT! GAY!"

"Then why is it that he keeps a can Crisco in his trunk, especially seeing as he doesn't cook when he's at Hogwarts?" Albus riposted smugly.

Snape paused for a moment. "Hmmm… I see. Well, that certainly changes things."

Chapter Four:

-You don't love me, you just love my Doggy-Style-

Sirius growled, leaping to the defense of his godson. "Snivellus, shut your mouth or I'll…"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Kill me? Too late, and done by a better man than you! What, no witty retort from the flea-bitten mutt?"

Sirius growled. "I'll bloody well hump your leg for eternity."

"As a dog," Snape asked in a flat voice, "or as a man?"

Sirius morphed and proceeded to violate Snape's trousers. UnF! OrT! UnF! OrT!


Chapters Four, Five, Six:

-this goes out to my dedicated reviewers. Information comes from wikipedia-

Snape waited impatiently for Albus to finish reading his letters. "Well?" He asked snarkily.

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Well, there seems to be a bit of confusion later on in the letters. First you refer to Hermione as Ms. Granger, and then you suddenly shift to calling her Mrs. Granger. Now, unless you are actually referring to Hermione's mother, you should call her Miss. Granger. It's rather disconcerting."

Snape grumbles. "What's the bloody difference? I mean, it's a pain to have to fix all of the letters just to rectify one measly error."

Albus favored Snape with a stern look. "Now Severus, the titles make a very big difference. Although the common usage of Miss and Mrs. to differentiate between marital status did not arise until the seventeenth century, you are not a Flamel and therefore do not have an excuse for their misuse. Miss refers to an unwed female, while Mrs. refers to a married woman. The appellation Ms. is a relatively new invention favored by feminists, and is believed to have first appeared as a typographical error on a copy of News & Letters, but was later trumpeted as an integral part of non-sexist language."

Snape harrumphed. "Bah. Irregardless of the fact –"

Albus shook his head sadly. "Severus, irregardless isn't a real word."

Snape ground his teeth together. "That is up to debate."

"Regardless, you shouldn't use 'irregardless.' You are a professional." Albus chided.

"I loath you," Snape replied.

Chapter Seven:

-This one goes out to Fenrir and all the other people who suffered through Hermione's metal dialogue. -

Abject desperation propelled Hermione's limbs forward. She knew with complete certainty that if she could not terminate Harry's escape the probability of his fatality approached unity. Pursuing him through a copse of deciduous greenery she ascertained her best opportunity when Harry's foot came into conflict with an obfuscated obstruction in the form of a knobby wooden protuberance. Hermione immediately flung herself bodily at Harry's off-balance body angling her approach so her willowy frame would impact his torso co-joining her center of gravity with his ensuring that his current vector or motion would no longer be orthogonal to the pull of gravity.

Unfortunately, she didn't factor in the incredible density of her thought processes, as well as the wind resistance caused by her inflated vocabulary.

WHAM! She slammed face-first into a tree.

Harry snorted. "That'll learn yah to use them 24k plated words."

Chapter Seven:

-because everybody loves deviant!Luna-

"Hello Harry, Hello Hermione," a soft and breezy voice called out from above them. Harry and Hermione's eyes tracked the voice to its owner. Luna Lovegood sat on a low branch near the pair staring with her buggy blue eyes and a wistful smile. "Oooooh, does this mean that Harry likes anal sex? Can I join in? I brought my own!"

Harry and Hermione boggled as she whipped out a foot-long pink sparkly banana and expertly affixed it to the front of her dress with a sticking charm.

Luna giggled. "I even have Crisco!"

Chapter Nine:

-Thespians are a man's best friend-

Harry tried to swallow the lump that spontaneously appeared in is throat, but his mouth decided that it wanted to change occupations to 'desert'. "Ah… well… you see… I really don't know if there's a good way to tell you this…"



Harry winced. "…but I'm positive that was not it."

Chapter Nine:

-Because there are two kinds of people in this world: Those who won't touch Tequila, and those who wish they never had.-

He shook his head. "Bloody hell, Hermione, now I'm getting a bit jumpy around you."

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked. "I'd never do something like that to-"

Harry winced. "Um… yes you would. If you thought it was for my own good."

"No I wouldn't!" She denied frantically.

"Firebolt," Harry replied dryly.

Hermione's shoulders fell, and she began to sniffle. "Alright, I did. But you don't understand…"

Harry growled. "What's not to understand? You bloody messed with my memories!"

"No, no, it wasn't like that…you were begging me to!" She cried.

Harry looked at her coldly. "Right… well, let's hear it then."

Hermione shuddered. "Well, you see we were hunting for Horcruxes, and we came across a full bottle of Cuervo Gold… we decided to make Snakebites and Margaritas… so, um, one thing led to another and, um, well… You know Harry, you and Ron really showed me how much you loved each other."

Harry paled. "Um… like a friendly hug between best mates, right?"

Hermione nodded. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. "Well, that's if you define a friendly hug between best mates as four straight hours of arse-shagging," she mused thoughtfully.


"Obliviate," Hermione replied. "Honestly Harry, you really should learn to trust my judgment on these sorts of things," she huffed.