Disclaimer- Regretfully, we do not own any of the characters mentioned in this fanfic. However, we have decided Dean Thomas is black. It is very possible he is black. J.K. Rowling never says he isn't. So, for the sake of diversity, he is an person with black skin. Also, no views in this work of fiction reflect the author's beliefs. We're just having a little fun. We don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Well, Sarah might want to, but Lindsey doesn't.

Harry studied his potions book. It said to add one toadstool, but Ron had just added two. Harry was no genius at Potions (or anything else), but he knew that it should not smell like lasagna, nor resemble the delectable meal.

"Crickey!" swore Ron. "Sorry, Harry."

"You should be. But, as I am quite gallant and British and the perfect hero, not to mention the protagonist, I will forgive you."

"Oh, Harry!" swooned Ron. "You are so gallant.and noble.and British.and perfect.can I follow you everywhere?"

"You already do, Ron." "Oh right. I'm your bitch. I forgot." Then, Harry felt a sinister shadow fall over his Italian substance cauldron.

"Potter.." whispered Snape. "What is this.noodle like substance?" His greasy eyes squinted. "Does your book not clearly say you should add but one toadstool?"

"Sir." began Harry. Suddenly, Dean (who was seated next to Harry's) spilled the contents of his cauldron.

"Crickey!" muttered Dean as he began moping it up. Snape scowled at him. "Potter," began Snape. "Look what you did." He gazed at Harry. "You knocked over the black kid's cauldron.

"NO! I." Harry realized he was not going to win. He hung his head in shame and disgrace.

"I'm sorry I'm such a failure, sir."

"Damn straight you're a failure, Pothead," hissed Snape, taking a long drag of his pipe. "Now.about this lasagna stuff.oh right." He put away the pipe and began getting feisty. "POTTER, WHY ARE YOU ABSOULTELY NO GOOD LIKE YOUR STUPID FATHER WHO WAS HALF DEER-"

"Stag," corrected Harry.


"Sir," began Ron, "It was I who-" "SHUT YOUR BRITISH MOUTH."

"Bloody crickets," moaned Ron, blushing under Snape's gaze. He had to admit, Snape was rather attractive when he got rallied up like that.

"Excuse me, sir," began Dean, examining Harry's textbook, now blotted from the potion.

"But there must have been a misprint in Harry's textbook." The ink on that page had been smeared slightly by the spill. Indeed, the one resembled the number two.

"Hmm," Snape muttered, picking up Harry's soaking text book and gingerly putting it down on the desk.

"I suppose so. I imagine that if..," Snape looked over the lasagna hungrily, "We negotiated Mr. Potter, your grade won't suffer." He eyed Harry with contempt. " Much." A moment later, the bell rang.

Harry, Ron and Dean gathered up their books. "Hey," called Harry to Dean once they had descended into the dark and dismal dungeons. D is a fun letter.

"Thanks for.you know."

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Anytime, brother."

"Dean?" asked Ron from the shadows. "Do you ever feel that you are in this series just so the colored population don't sue J.K. Rowling for ten times more than she's worth? If so, please explain in ten sentences or less, because I'm an idiot."

"Yes, Dean," encouraged Harry. "Do you feel awkward just hanging out and saying things like, 'Damn! That be whack, son!' or something of the like?"

"Well," said Dean, eyeing them curiously, "I am very British and cultured and I don't believe I have ever been known to use the phrase, 'Damn, That be whack, son!' You know. But sometimes I do feel left out of things." Dean eyed the empty corridor. "Listen, Harry.have you ever wanted to feel like you belong? Like you're part of a family?"

Harry was intrigued. "Yes, indeed," he answered. "How'd you know?"

"Cause it's all you ever talk about, clodpoll. Don't you even read your own books? You're some little Nancy boy, always talking about your dead mum and dad. Dude, in fourteen years, you should be over it. Anyway. " Dean searched the corridor urgently. "I can't explain here. But meet me in the Astronomy Tower at one in the morning."

It was after Dean left that something dawned on Harry. "Ron," he said. "Did you notice that every time we leave our room in the middle of the night, we get caught and/or something not good happens?"

"Shhh.." whispered Ron. "Maybe we won't this time." The two boys began walking when they heard an annoying shrill voice.

"HEY! HEY!" called Hermione from behind the boys, "WAIT FOR ME!" she glared at the boys, "Stupid, weak gender," she muttered.

"Hi, Herm," said Harry. Ron snickered.

"Herm. That sounds like worm." He and Harry exchanged cultured, British high fives.

"My name is Heromine, not Herm or Miney, not Herm-own-ninny or anything else you stupid sex-crazed testosterone pumped wife beaters," whined the fluffy headed girl. Over the summer Heromine had cut her hair short and taken a new out look on life. Soon after dumping her sexually abusing boyfriend, "Vicky" she joined a group of Radical Feminists. While she was still one of Harry and Ron's only friends, she was even more obnoxious then ever.


"So, people." Hermione peered up at them. She pointed a finger accusingly at Harry. "You're planning on sneaking out tonight to go to the Astronomy Tower at one in the morning, aren't you?"

Harry was awestruck. "How'd you know?"

"You had that look.." Hermione continued, "And you weren't planning on telling me, were you?"

"Well, no. You hate breaking rules."

"Why?" Hermione stuck her face right by Harry's. "Cause I'm a woman?"

"Err.. Not really, cause you're Hermione," said Ron, "And why have you been hanging out after class with Snape?" asked Ron, eager to change the subject. He wrinkled his nose. "He's dirty."

Hermione giggled, "Yes, he is VERY dirty."

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione. "I don't want to know," remarked Ron.

"Fine. I bet you don't want to know about my sex life cause you're a man!"

"No, cause it's disgusting, you pig."

"Are you calling me a pig cause I'm a woman?"

"Actually," said Harry. "If he wanted to call you a female pig, it would be a sow."

The three laughed good-naturedly at Harry's wittiness.

"OH, Harry, you're so witty," swooned Ron. Harry patted him on the back.

"Yes, I am." The rest of the day went by slowly for Harry. He found himself pondering about what Dean meant.

"Harry!" Prof. Trelawny raised her voice to him. He apologized. Her voice softened. "Never mind then, dear. And just so you know-it WILL happen tonight. Beware." As she moved on to torture the next unsuspecting fool, Harry poked Ron.

"Hey, Ron!" Ron turned around. "What do you think the professor meant by 'It WILL happen tonight, beware?"

Ron thought for minute. "It probably doesn't mean anything."

"You're right," agreed Harry. "What could possible go wrong with sneaking out of your room in the middle of the night to attend a meeting of something you don't know?"

"Yeah," nodded Ron. The two boys continued their lessons. Dinner that night was very awkward. Harry kept trying to get Dean's attention, but it didn't seem to be working. Dean was deep in conversation with a sixth year student whom Harry did not know.

"Harry! Harry, you ungrateful piece of scum," hissed Hermione. "Why aren't you listening to me?" She narrowed her eyes. "As secretary of S.P.E.F.W., you should be listening to your president." Harry sighed. When Hermione returned as a feminist, she had changed the name of her house-elf society. It's new name was S.P.E.F.W-Society for the Promotion of Female Elfish Welfare.

"I'm listening, Hermione." "Right. You've course you are."

"I said I was!" "Shut up or I'll turn you into a toad, you selfish, male chauvinistic pig!" Several heads turned as Hermione's voice rose to a shriek. "Why are you all looking at me? Go back to your dinner!" She waved her hands in annoyance. "Go on, go!"

"Whoa, Pothead," said the cold, drawl voice of Draco Malfoy.

"You certainly are a bad person, aren't you? And your friend, Ron? Wow, he's poor." Draco exchanged cultured, British high fives with the other Slytherins.

"And you know what, Malfoy?" said Harry.

"You're..annoying," he said triumphantly. The Gryffndors clapped for Harry.

"Harry, you really dissed him," commented George Weasley.

"You certainly did," answered his twin, Fred.

"You go, Girlfriend," said Ron looking proudly at Harry.

Hermione slammed her notebook shut. "I don't get it," she cried. "Why does Harry always win fights with Malfoy? Draco always has better insults and stuff. And he's cool without being disfigured."

The entire dining room looked at her in disbelief. "Um...Hermione?" whispered Harry. "Have you forgotten the part where I'm quite gallant, British, the perfect hero and the protagonist?"

Hermione smacked a hand against her forehead. "Oh right! I forgot."

Harry patted her back sympathetically. "Right," said Hermione, "I'm sorry."

"We all forget, sometimes," said Harry, looking rather gallant.

"I'm so sorry Harry, will you ever forgive me?" quivered Hermione.

"Well.. I suppose," said Harry. "Thank you, oh grand one."

"I know," said Harry, waving Hermione's comments aside and getting back to eating his processed cow parts, "So," said Harry, wanting to draw the attention back to himself, "Ron, what do you think Dean meant? What do you think is going to happen tonight?"

"Beats me, Harry. I mean, I suppose we will have to sneak out and naturally find out."

"A family," mused Harry, "I'll finally have a family"

"Actually," said Hermione. "No you won't. A real family should be related by blood. You'll just be the creepy kid with no past and no future." Smiling contently, she sipped her pumpkin wine.

Late that night, Harry and Ron slipped out of their beds. (they were not, as Sarah as just kindly reminded Lindsey by laughing evilly at her, "making sweet love like little bunnies in the woods" (Lindsey's words, not Sarah's)

"Hey, it looks like Dean is already gone," said Ron, pointing to Dean's empty bed.

"No kidding," said Harry, tying his red silk bathrobe tightly around his waist.

"Oh, Harry," swooned Ron. "you look so sexual in that bathrobe." Harry struck a pose that can only be described as "I'm A Victoria Secret Mode!".

He looked at himself in the mirror. "Yes, I do, Ron"




"This is pointless conversation," said Hermione as she briskly entered the boys dorm. "Hurry up," she commanded. "It's 12:49. It will take seven minutes to reach our destination, and I want to observe what they do without us being there."

"Um..Hermione? You weren't invited," said Ron sheepishly.

Hermione laughed. "Why, cause I'm a woman? They have no use for the FEMALE SEX?"

Seamus sat up in bed. "Female sex? Where?"

"Shut up, Seamus," snapped Hermione. "Anyway, I'm never invited. I have no friends? Remember? RING ANY BELLS? THE WHOLE THIRD BOOK-'Hermione has no friends, no one likes her.' Book Four-"No one likes her, but she's quiet brainy."

"We like you, Hermione," said Harry gallantly.

"And I want to screw you, Hermione," said Ron.

"Oh, you're just saying that Harry cause you're gallant and British and the perfect hero, not to mention the protagonist. and you're just saying that Ron cause of your over hormonal brain."

"Err..shouldn't we be going?" asked Ron, embarrassed by his outburst.

"Yes, now! Come hither," said Harry valiantly throwing his invisibility cloak over his head.

The three carefully opened the door and tip toed down the stairs and across the common room. They made there way down the dark hallway. Harry couldn't help noticing how strange it was that they hadn't run into anyone yet. Normally they ran into some teacher or danger or problem on their midnight trips but tonight the halls were empty. Of course, you know, they could all be just wearing invisibility cloaks too. They made there way to the tower with a minute or so to spare. The three of them just sat there for a moment, staring at the door, pondering what would happen behind it.

"Well then," said Hermione briskly, "Knock Harry."

"Yea," said Ron, "Knock Harry!"

"Alright!" said Harry carefully wrapping against the door. Knock, knock. "Whose there," called someone from behind the door.

"Um. Harry Potter," called Harry.

"Goodie Boys, fresh meat!" and the door swung open and a many wearing a white cloak and a white hood covering his face said, "Welcome to the KKK."

(A/N: Hey! Well, this is Lindsey and Sarah is sitting to my side and we have concluded the first chapter with a CLIFF HANGER!!!!!!!!! Flames are welcomes. In fact, they are learning tools and frankly, they are expected. But, we only really want flames that DON'T HAVE DEATH THREATS INCLUDED! We've had enough of those. Anyway, I hope you.. Enjoyed that and keep checking for updates cause we don't have lives. Have a sexual day!!!!! PS: Hey Joey, Sarah times 2 and Males Times 3 )