I've never actually done one of these. I'll give it a shot, if someone will send one my way.

 

I'm pretty sure I have to be challenged first, but what the hell,

A NEW CHALLENGER HAS APPEARED: Vash or Big D.
Challenge;
Harry has the perfect plan to convince Slughorn to give him the memory, he only needs three things, a box of crystallized pineapple, a bottle of oak-matured mead, and a naked Fleur Delacour.

Length: 1000/1800
Time: 60 Minutes

and because neopyro wants one,

A NEW CHALLENGER HAS APPEARED: neopyro.
Line: Harry's jaw dropped, "So that's why she likes spearmint toothpaste so much."

Length: 600/900
Time: 30 Minutes

 

I'll take a challenge, if anyone's up for giving me one.

 

Challenge:

Though the war's heating up, Neville and Hannah finally get a chance to take that final step and get it on in the greenhouses. Things get a little sloppy from there.

Must use the passage:

"Is it in you, honey, or the mud."

"Me," she gasps.

"Put it back in the mud."

Length: 600/900
Time: 45 Minutes

 

Accepted; see you in 45.

EDIT: Well it took me an hour, but its 1k words so we're even. I'll warn you, there's a reason I don't write smut

***

Greenhouse Interlude


Neville Longbottom’s only respite was Herbology.

Professor Sprout had always liked him – he was a promising student and had, in her opinion, the personality of a Hufflepuff – and his skill meant that he wasn’t ridiculed like in most of his other classes.

It was little surprise, then, that he used Greenhouse Three for his clandestine meeting place with his girlfriend.

“I just don’t understand why you have to be so belligerent in class, Neville.” She said sweetly as she dabbed some dittany on his shoulder, where his latest scar was slowly healing; the Carrows never let him go to Madam Pomfrey.

He jerked slightly as she rubbed a particularly tender spot, and replied, “Someone has to, Hannah. I mean, you remember Harry in Umbridge’s class – he never would have let –”

“Neville, you aren’t Harry Potter! And he’s gone…how do you know he’ll ever be back?” Neville’s face hardened at this. Many of his classmates were losing faith; some claimed that Harry had been killed, while others thought he was hiding, afraid.

“We don’t know, Hannah. But we can hope – and we don’t have to be Harry Potter to make a difference!” Hannah, a bit teary-eyed, grabbed him in a fierce hug that once again tore open the wound on his shoulder.

To steady himself from the pain, he tried to clutch the bench he was sitting upon, but accidentally put his hand on a ceramic pot that shattered.

“Neville? We’ll never know when our time will come, will we? One minute you might be sitting in class, and the next…the Carrows could take things too far!” She tried to leap into his arms, but he wasn’t expecting it, and his head fell back into the stalks of the Honey Suckling Hemerocallis behind him; its yellow lily flowers spilled gobs of honey over both of the teenagers and the bench.

“Yuck!” She eyed the sticky substance all over Neville’s hair, face, and pants with a depressed sigh – the greenhouse was far from the ideal setting for her romantic tryst, but it was all they had.

She leaned in and kissed Neville passionately, the sweet taste of honey flooding both their senses, and he was for a moment too shocked at her boldness to reciprocate; they’d kissed a few times before, but it was usually a shy thing, far from the aggressive lip-lock in which they were currently engaged.

Hannah’s robe slipped from her shoulders – it too was covered in sticky honey, so this actually took a bit of doing – and flung it, covering up the nearby Venomous Tentacula that had been drawn to the blood leaking from Neville’s shoulder; it visibly pouted before going back to its usual pot.

“Umm…H-Hannah?” Neville squeaked. Hannah had straddled him, now, and was unbuttoning her blouse. “Is there a leak of Amorous Magnosea Pollen?” He whispered furiously, trying to understand her actions.

“Don’t you get it, Neville? The Carrows could kill you at any time – you could be the next disappearance! I won’t let you disappear without knowing how I feel about you!” She kissed him again as she grinded against him, and he almost gasped as a shiver went down his spine.

Hannah stopped, and looked down at him oddly.

“That wasn’t…you aren’t, I mean…you aren’t finished yet, right?” Disappointment was a bit evident in her voice.

“No,” he stuttered. He wasn’t sure if he was, but didn’t want to tell her that. She traced a line down his stomach then, and undid his pants.

“Neville! Take me now, I’m ready!” She suddenly turned and lay in the dirt of the main trough on the workbench – her skirt was hiked high, and she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Neville almost fainted when he saw her bare ass, and reflexively shut his eyes, unsure if he was supposed to look.

“Neville,” Hannah called somewhat impatiently, “Put it in me!”

Neville tried to hurriedly lower his pants, but tripped and landed in the Honey Suckling Hemerocallis; the honey went all over his stomach and groin, making a bit of a mess; he further complicated the process by rubbing his hands in the dirt to rid them of honey, which only made them dirty and sticky.

Finally, he got back up and walked over to Hannah, who was still lying on the ground, but was now turned upward with her legs spread. Neville hurriedly closed his eyes once more, not wanting her to change her mind about this whole thing in case he wasn’t supposed to look at her.

The sprinkler system chose that moment to go off, squirting the teens with freezing water. Neville was so shocked that he tripped once more and fell on top of Hannah. He looked down, and realized that his dick had been buried in something squishy.

“H-hannah? Am I?” She looked at his oddly, and then down between them.

“No, Neville. That’s the mud.” Sheepishly, he removed himself from the mud, and used his discarded robe to wipe his cock of the mud. Since it was also coated in honey, this was only marginally effective, but he ignored it and, looking Hannah in the eyes, once again thrust his hips.

A moment passed, and Hannah exhaled a breath Neville hadn’t realized she was holding.

Another moment passed, and Neville realized he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

“Is anyone in here?” A voice Neville recognized as Professor Sprout’s called out. Hannah’s eyes widened, but both of the teens froze.

Neville finally whispered, “It is in you, honey, or the mud?”

“Me,” she gasped.

“Well I might as well put it back in the mud.” Neville continued, extracting himself from her.

“A greenhouse wasn’t a great place for our first time, was it?” Hannah said, looking a bit ashamed as she saw the site of their attempt at lovemaking. It was a mess, with at least three expensive and potentially dangerous plants crushed.

Neville shook his head morosely, and hiked up his pants.

Hannah bit her bottom lip and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear as she offered another suggestion.

“There’s always Hagrid’s pumpkin patch…”




***

A NEW CHALLENGER HAS APPEARED: enembee

Challenge: Harry Potter is the new Head Auror, and it's just in time for performance evaluations. But what can he possibly say to make his friend Ron Weasley look good?

Length: 300 - 600. 30 minutes.

 

A little weak, but eh, what can you say about Ron Weasley?

Performance Evaluation: Auror Ronald Bilius Weasley

Auror Weasley has proven his versatility time and time again, from destroying extremely dangerous Horcruxes with very little aid to mimicking parseltongue. This said, Auror Weasley is an ideal candidate for bodyguard detail; at six feet tall and four feet wide now that his metabolism has slowed in middle age, he provides perfect cover for more diminutive wizards and witches to hide behind. Likewise, he is extremely eager when it comes to food testing, something that would be important in the event that someone would wish to attack the subject with poisons. As an avid chess player, he’d prove useful should the subject be bored or have small children that need entertaining.

His mopping skills are second to none and thus can double up as a handy domestic assistant, should it be required as part of an undercover defensive operation. He is also in possession of an expensive set of dress robes, likewise allowing him to stand in as a gentlemen’s gentleman, provided he is not required to speak.

Likewise, Auror Weasley would be perfect for reconnaissance work in crowded areas, particularly quidditch shops, stadiums or in the presence of quidditch players. His ability to appear simultaneously gormless and star struck would be exceptionally useful if he ever needed to blend into the crowd. Likewise, his perfect recollection of every quidditch fact and statistic since 1845 would allow him to blend in as a commentator, quidditch journalist or coach.

Another area, in which Auror Weasley excels, is his fantastic ability to never become lost. Should he ever become missing, one must only look around for the single most vivid colour in the surrounding area and one will find him. For this reason, Auror Weasley would be ideal in situations of low visibility. It is my sincere recommendation that for this reason Auror Weasley should consider a station overseas in Alaska.

Indeed, it is my opinion that the talents of Auror Weasley are ideally suited for a posting overseas. His uncanny ability to repeat phrases only heard once before in a foreign language, with a perfect accent means he should easily blend in. Likewise, his extreme familiarity with dangerous objects and poisons make him an invaluable asset to any team in uncharted areas of the globe. His suitability as a bodyguard would also uniquely serve him were he to be utilized as a support member of any team.

Auror Weasley’s posting overseas would not only be very useful and entertaining for the team he was billeted to but would also be a great relief to the head office who would rest easy in their beds knowing that this particular asset was located where he would be doing the most good.

Auror Weasley is one of a kind. Were we able to recruit more Aurors of his calibre, I would happily retire.

Harry Potter,
Commanding Officer

A CHALLENGER APPEARS: Virail and/or Custer

Challenge: 'How Aeroplanes Stay Up, an essay by Arthur Weasley (Or Luna Lovegood)'

Length: 500-800, 60 minutes.

A THIRD CHALLENGER APPEARS: Scrittore

Challenge: Draco: "What the hell do you know?"

Harry: "I know it's pretty damn weird to eat people."

Length: 800-1000, 60 minutes.
__________________

 

Right oh, this sucks but the folks on IRC told me to post it anyway

How Aeroplanes stay up, an essay by Arthur Weasley.
​

Before getting into the meat of this essay, I would like to relate a story with both inspired me to write this piece, and to seek that it become part of the muggle studies course at Hogwarts.

I was taking a vacation at the end of the Second War; my family had suggested it to me, and my new daughter-in-law, Hermione, had arranged it. I was off to the St. Thomas Islands for a nice, long, relaxing vacation. Instead of taking the usual portkey from London, I decided to spice up my life a little and go by muggle transport. It was quite the interesting experience as I shall relate to you later. After arriving at the tropical destination, I quickly checked into my room.

Some time later, I was sipping some wonderful coconut drink on the beach, just relaxing and biding my time, when a met a beautiful blond haired girl. We got talking about various things, and we decided to have dinner together at the hotel restaurant. It was partway through the leg of lamb that I confessed to this blond girl, Julie, that I was ever so interested in how aeroplanes worked. She quickly informed me, with much enthusiasm, that planes worked on a type of magic powered by the ghost in the machine!

She explained to me that the operations of an aeroplane were often said to be complex, and based upon the aircraft moving forward at great speed. I also remember her talking about something lifting the aeroplane. Honestly, as if any sane person would believe that just by moving forward fast enough you would gain the ability to fly. It was a conspiracy amongst the muggles, she had informed me. The real reason was that the bound ghosts in the aircraft would lift the plane into the air, making it weightless, and the muggles burned some kind of special potion to make the plane move. It was all very complex and certainly a violation of the statute of secrecy.

I returned to England with a purpose in my heart. I was going to inform the Wizarding world of this startling revelation. The muggles had discovered our magic, and worse than that, they were enslaving the dearly departed to use as a power source for their machines! It was sick. It was wrong. And everyone is going to know about it.

I have spent months researching this essay, I have combed Hogwart's library in secret and tried to find magic that would free our undead friends from this life of servitude. So far I have come up with nothing of any use and I leave it to you, the next generation, to take up the torch and continue on the free the ghosts from the machine.

Normally I would seek the advice of our muggle-born wizards but they seem to be part of this problem. Increasingly over the years muggle-born wizards have returned to the muggle world and made huge fortunes on the technology market. It is suspicious. Hermione assures me there is nothing wrong but we must remain vigilant.

I remain yours, in truth,

Arthur Weasley.

 

This is my first attempt to respond to a challenge. Never was a big Draco fan and still not. Here goes nothing though. Note: This takes place in an AU Universe in 5th year, no Umbridge or Ministry. Oh, and Draco was never made a perfect.


Draco Malfoy was not a happy camper at the moment. He was out in the Hogwarts hallways after curfew, and trying to not to get caught. However, not getting caught wasn’t his biggest problem. No, not by any means was that his biggest problem. His problem was trying to avoid the reason for the curfew. Somebody, the staff wasn’t sure whether it was a student or a staff member was killing off students! To top it all off, they were eating parts of the students! Draco’s stomach blanched at that thought as he tried to sneak throughout the hallways.

Draco knew he shouldn’t of fell asleep on top of the tower on Pansy. However, it wasn’t fault since he had a long day! The bint was the reason he was stuck in this situation now he thought angrily. He was going to show her when he got to the back to the Slytherin dorms, oh yes, he was going to show her.

He continued to make his way towards the dungeons, trying desperately to not get caught because otherwise the punishment would be quite severe. Ever since Potter and Dumbledore were able to prove that Voldemort did return, security was at a all time here on Hogwarts. The least I could hope for if I do get caught is that it’s Snape thought Draco.

Draco made his way to the fifth floor at that point. Maybe I’ll make it after all thought Draco happily. All of a sudden, he noticed a small movement from the shadows and he jumped with a slight girly eeep. Draco could not believe his luck with whom was out this late, but he couldn’t say he was surprised.

“Potter” drawled Draco, his anger building at the sight of the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

“Malfoy, out a bit late aren’t we?” spoke Harry with a smug hint to his tone and a smirk on his face.

“I could say the same about you Potter, what are you doing out this late?” spoke Draco generally curious.

“Oh this and that Malfoy, the better question is what YOU are doing out this late. You know about the curfew, even Snape can’t protect you from the punishments that would be dealt out. Especially with you being a junior Death Eater” spoke Harry obviously enjoying this.

“What do you know Potter?”

“I know it’s pretty weird to eat people.”

Malfoy became a bit scared at that comment. “Potter, are you telling me you’re that killer? Is that why you’re out this late?” asked Malfoy with a tint of fear in his voice.

“Honestly Malfoy, you’re suppose to be smart? I’m the Gryffindor Golden Boy if you recall. If I was going to kill you, I would have just done so in the past. Now do you want my help or not? As much as I don’t like you, it is quite amusing to keep you around,” said Harry still obviously enjoying this.

Draco huffed at that comment, “I don’t need your help Potter, but I doubt you could help me. So why don’t you show me your genius plan?” asked Draco wanting to get out of the hallway as soon as possible.

“Follow me Malfoy, and be quiet” said Harry once again serious as he led Malfoy to the Room of Requirement after doing the necessary things. The two of them walked into a room that looked awfully like the Gryfindor Common Room.

“What is this place Potter?” asked Draco wondering how come he did not find such a place before. He waited for a response while Harry was staring at the fireplace with his back turned to Draco.

“This is the Room of Requirement Malfoy. It gives you whatever you required basically. It has become deadly useful if I do say so myself,” said Harry as he turned around away from the fireplace with a evil grin on his face.

All of a sudden, Draco’s vision went black as he collapsed.

Several Minutes Later..

“Wakey Wakey Draco” said Harry as he splashed Malfoy with a bucket of cold water.

Draco opened his eyes to see Harry Potter in front of him with some odd looking thing on him. He noticed that Harry had his hands behind his back. He also happened to notice that he was chained to the wall. “What’s the meaning of this Potter?” asked Draco with the fear obvious in his voice.

“Why Draco, I’m preparing dinner” said Harry calmly as he put a pair of black gloves on.

“So you are the killer! I knew it! What did you do with Daphne you sick bastard? They never did find her body,” said Draco angrily at the thought of his ex-girlfriend's disappearance.

“I ate her liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti” said Harry with a small laugh.

“WHAT?! THAT’S DISGUSTING!” yelled Draco, trying more and more to get out of the chains.

Harry shook his head, “Oh Purebloods, they sure do have a dry sense of humor” said Harry while making sure the rain coat on. He wouldn’t want to get any blood on his clothes of course. He then asked the Room for a nice silver axe, and received it.

Draco’s eyes widened at seeing the axe. “What, what are you going to do with that Potter,” said Draco near tears.

“Well isn’t it obvious Draco? Use it” said Harry while grinning now. Harry raised the axe and took one look at Draco. “I only have one other question for you Draco.” Said Harry happily.

“What’s that Potter?” sighed Draco in defeat.

“What does Ferret taste like?” asked Harry as he used the axe to cut off Draco’s head although it did take a couple swings. He always did enjoy his midnight snacks a little bloody though.

 

Hannibal Lector!Harry ftw. Grammar wasn't the best, but I enjoyed it, 2.4/5.

 

Scrittore: If I could make a recommendation, I discourage the use of "not a happy camper" as it is very cliche in writing.

 

That's what I did for the entire story as I read it.

EDIT:

That's the worst dialogue ever written by man.

 

@kmfrank: Outstanding. Great job with the material.

 

Someone throw me one and I'll get it done tonight... I'll be back in thirty minutes to check.

 

A NEW CHALLENGER HAS APPEARED: Averis
Line: Harry struggled to keep from laughing, "Ron really wanted to try that in bed?"

Length: 600/900
Time: 30 Minutes

 

Well done sir. I'm a great fan of dry wit, and this was perfect. I lolled the whole time.

 

Wands
​

They had been lounging in the common room when Hermione appeared at the top of the stairwell leading to the girl common room. She looked absolutely beautiful in her blue dress robes. She approached them and Harry noticed she had applied some perfume. It was subtle, so faint that he could not identify what it was but it was also alluring. Ron, he noticed, was still in a state of shock.

"Harry, Ron, we need to have a talk, in private." She reached out with her hands and pulled the young men up to their room.

"Hermione, what is this about?" Ron sat himself on his bed while Harry chose the windowsill.

Hermione paced, betraying her agitation.

"I wasn't sure if I needed to do this but I figured with Harry, I must. Likewise Ron, I'm sure your brothers didn't take this responsibility upon themselves."

Ron and Harry shared a look, unsure what she was talking about. Harry decided to clear that up.

"What are you rambling about?"

She stopped pacing and looked at them with complete seriousness.

"With the Yule Ball tonight, I realized that someone need to have the talk with you two."

"The talk, what do you want to talk about?" Ron was confused but he spoke for both of the males in the room.

It took her a moment to find the right words. She pulled out her wand.

"I'm not sure how to say this but it must be said. We need to talk about, wand care."

She did that thing with her bushy eyebrows as if they could magically convey her thoughts. Harry knew that whatever it was, they were supposed to know what she was talking about.

"Well Hermione, I take really good care of my wand thank you very much."

Ron chose to provide support.

"Yeah you do mate, I see you polishing that thing everyday!"

"Whenever I can, actually. I find that it's best after Quidditch practice."

Hermione turned beet red and her eyebrows, currently raised, shot up into her hairline. She squeaked out a response.

"Well, I think - You've seen Harry polish his wand, Ron?"

"Sure I have. Sometimes I polish it for him too."

"Ron actually has quite the hands for it. He does it a lot better than I can."

Shocked at what they were talking about, Hermione walked over to Harry's bed and laid on it, pressing her head down to the mattress. She propped her head up with her arms. She looked at them with sadness.

"Are you telling me, that you've both...polished...each other's wands?

"Yeah, s'nothing wrong with that. All the blokes do it for each other sometimes. Neville's worked on mine before."

Ron said this in a completely normal tone as if Hermione should have known. She smacked her head and let of a groan of frustration. This time she arched her back and chose to place her chin on her hand.

"I can't believe, nevermind. I thought we were talking about something else."

Harry was still confused.

"But Hermione, what are we talking about?"

She huffed, taking in a deep breath. As she did this, her dress robes loosed, revealing more than just cleavage. He could see down her dress!

"I should start over. There comes a time when a wizard, feels the need to holster his wand. Are you two following?"

They nodded and Harry shifted uncomfortably, taking glances away from her face and looking at her...

..."That's when the witch needs to help the wizard because his-" Hermione cleared her throat before putting emphasis. "-wand is highly responsive and he must put it away otherwise, he could explode."

Harry snapped back to attention after tearing his eyes away from her twin peaks.

She gestured with her hands mimicking what Harry thought to be a nuclear explosion. She even made sound effects. Ron was looking deathly pale.

"Blimey, Hermione I thought that all a bloke had to do was polish his wand to keep it working. I didn't know all that could happen."

"Exactly and that's why the wizard needs to place his wand in a witch's special wand holster."

--


Er...I'm not even sure why I wrote that. It seemed funnier in my head. Oh well.

A New Challenger Has Appeared: open to anyone
Line: Why on earth would a wizard create a spell to Vanish their own naughty bits?
Length: 1000-2000

A New Challenger Has Appeared: open to anyone
Line: The answer to immortality lies not in life but in death.
Length: As long as it needs to be

 

This was written under duress:

Marital Predicaments

​

Harry folded the letter written by his deceased Sirius Black, contemplating the surreal hand of cards fate had dealt him. His godfather had perished at the hands of the equally infamous Bellatrix Black. Gringotts had faithfully sent his heartfelt farewell to his godson. He had arranged for the dissolution of the marriage contract binding Narcissa Malfoy due to the imprisonment of her husband. He also produced a new marriage contract between her and Harry. With a bride he could regain his seat in the Wizengamot, hitherto occupied in proxy by the MacDowell family.

It would simultaneously bring the not-inconsiderable finances of the Malfoy family into the Order of the Phoenix’s influence. Such a maneuver gained both a political presence and monetary assets that exceeded what was left of the Potter trust vault. Draco would be theirs to command. He could be confined and kept away from the Death Eaters forever.

Harry thought long and hard.

---

Harry had consented to the union after meeting with Narcissa. She seemed earnest – she wanted freedom from the Dark Lord that had ruined her family. Without hesitation, she had turned over the protections of her estate to Dumbledore, who reprogrammed them to target Death Eaters.

Within the week, the wedding was scheduled.

---

Narcissa brushed a platinum blonde strand of her hair aside, glancing furtively through the veil to Harry, who strode alongside her. The wedding dress that clung to her statuesque figure was elegant and opulent, pearls sewn into the hems. Harry was no less well-attired.

The private ceremony was attended only by a handful of people. Andromeda and Ted Tonks stood with their daughter Nymphadora. Ron and Hermione observed them too - they held reservations about Harry's decision but still gave him their full support.

They repeated the vows. A green light encircled their wrists, binding them to each other until death do them apart.

---

The fading rays of sunshine cast malformed shadows on the wall.

Harry frowned as an owl thudded against the window of the kitchen insistently. Communications to Grimmauld Place had ceased, in courtesy to the newlyweds that were to consummate their marriage there.

He approached the bird cautiously, and after a moment’s debate he undid the lock and opened it. Surely the message was of great importance. The bird dashed onto the counterpart and ruffled its wings. Harry opened the envelope tied to its legs, and was curious to find both a sheet of parchment and an ornate fountain-pen.

Harry Potter,

You may refer to me as Bill Cosby. You do not have much time. Leave the premises at all costs – you must not bed Narcissa. She has the super-AIDS.

Blinking in disbelief, Harry reread it twice. He quickly grasped the purpose of the pen, and scribbled down in response:

Why should I trust you?

Below his entry into the conversation-paper, an illustration gradually appeared. Harry recoiled in horror as he saw a realistic depiction of genital warts.

Why do you think Lucius and Narcissa never had another child after Draco?

I assumed he didn’t want to risk fathering another failure but -

A revelation dawned on him – he and Narcissa had explored each other’s bodies with their hands, and he had felt strange protrusions in her nether regions before she quickly demurred from going any further.

The pen fell through his numbed fingers, clattering to the floor.

Contraceptive charms don’t prevent diseases. I can’t get a condom since the Order is giving us privacy. Hedwig is with the Weasleys. I have to get out of here, he realized with an impending sense of doom. I have to get away now.

In his haste he only seized his jacket before flinging open the door. He rushed out, but found he could not advance past the front doorstep. An invisible force pressed against him, seeking to entomb him with a fate approaching death in undesirability. The horrified teenager resisted with all his might and thrashed wildly, before in a sudden surge of power the enchantment flung him off his feet and launched him back inside, the door slamming shut with a ringing finality. Stunned as he flew backward, he slammed onto the polished wooden floor, skidding back down the central corridor.

Holy shit, the marriage vows! He had sworn an Unbreakable Oath to see the consummation through – it was a pureblood tradition designed to prevent nervous bridegrooms from fleeing.

’Oh fuck,’ Harry panicked.

Narcissa was in the dressing room above pampering herself – he had minutes if not mere moments to take action.

Inspiration struck, and he rushed to the fireplace. He drew and his wand and started a conflagration and showered the flames with handfuls of Floo Powder. He prepared to leap through it, but the flames themselves solidified into a glowing green wall, cutting off another avenue of escape.

He glimpsed a glimmer of gold lettering in his periphery vision, and his gaze snapped to the bookcase he had never paid mind to before.

Desperation spurred him on. He seized a book and skimmed its title.

Taming Bestial Magics. Discarded.

Lector Impervius. Discarded.

He heard footsteps, and a deceptively sweet, lilting voice called out his name.

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.

His hands shook as they closed arounda dusty tome.

Escaping Marital Predicaments.

There was conveniently a bookmark.

He flipped to that page, and found a charm underlined in ink. Mere hours ago, in a happier lifetime, he would have asked: Why on earth would a wizard create a spell to Vanish their own naughty bits?

But he knew the answer.

 

Haha, very nice Andromalius, very nice indeed. It's not often that you see Narcissa depicted in such a manner.

 

I feel like 4chan visited DLP... and knocked it up.

"/b/tards in my DLP?"

It's more likely than you think.