Length: whatever
Time: whenever

Prompt: Daphne spoke up finally delivering an impromptu eulogy for a sudden funeral.
"Lord we give you Harry Potter. Try not to piss him off."

See what you guys can make of it.

 

AN: Word count is about 1,750. Don't ask me how. It came out in first person because that's what I've been writing lately. Sorry if that's not your thing.



Vampires aren't what you think they are.

Really, I swear.

If you read the Daily Prophet, I'm sure you've heard all about some family somewhere down the road or over in the next town that was massacred by blood sucking, undead monsters from beyond the grave, but you'll notice that there's hardly ever any names to go with those stories. Just a few rumors from a vague place just far enough into a muggle district that no self-respecting wizard or witch would bother checking for themselves. Which isn't to say that there aren't vampires who kill people. It's just that, statistically speaking, they're really no more common than people who kill people. And since there are a hell of a lot more regular people than vampires, you're still way more likely to have your throat ripped open by the creepy cat lady next door than the walking dead.

Take whatever reassurance from that that you can.

As a rule, vampires are just people with fairly unique dietary needs. They drink blood, but they don't need the human kind, and the general consensus seems to be that human blood isn't even all that tasty. Then again, they could just be saying that. They're immortal too, of course, but I've yet to meet one who really considers that to be much of an advantage. Most of them miss sunlight and being warm too much to take much satisfaction in living forever.

Here's something about vampires I bet you didn't know. They're pretty funny. I've never met a vampire who didn't enjoy a good joke, though their humor does tend to run a bit maudlin. Most of them are also fairly artistic, since art and music are the sorts of skills you never really perfect, and being immortal is mostly about finding ways to fill your time. You'd be surprised how many great works of art, literature, music, and even film have been ghostwritten or influenced by a passing vampire, and they hardly ever get royalties.

All of that being said, every once in a while there is a vampire who absolutely needs to be put down hard. Usually that means a creature who is so sick of its own existence that it has become a danger to everyone around it. That sort of vampire can run up an impressive body count in a very short time if they're really trying. Vampires have extremely well-developed survival instincts, so when one of them finally decides they're sick of un-life, suicide by Auror is a pretty common way out. It's a shame that those types shine such a bad light on the rest of their kind, but it's one of those things that most vampires have learned to laugh at.

Aside from the occasional depressed psycho-killer, there is one other kind of vampire that's probably better off dead. The simple fact is, not everyone makes the transition very well. As I mentioned, being immortal is harder than it looks, and being a vampire can get awfully uncomfortable if you're not mentally strong enough handle it. Usually, that sort of thing isn't a problem, since vampires tend to be fairly picky about who they turn. It makes sense if you think about it, I mean really, wouldn't you want to be extra careful who you invite into the immortality club if you might have to spend the next several centuries in their company?

Usually, the first kind of bad vampire leads directly to the second kind. Someone goes on a rampage and figures that leaving a few fanged brats behind is the best way to tell the world to go fuck itself. The responsible vampire community always offers help to whoever gets left behind, but as you can imagine, the newly turned aren't terribly excited about taking charity from the same sorts of creatures who cursed them to begin with. It's unfortunate, but if there's one thing I've learned about life is that it's hardly ever fair.

Take tonight, for example. In a fair world, I would be at home, curled up around a warm redhead. Instead, I find myself tracking the aftermath of exactly one of those vampire rampages. Fifteen dead across three counties, and one newly turned vampire left behind. And based on the stories I've gathered while tracking the thing across Liverpool, I don't have high hopes for an easy integration into Britain's living dead community.

Then again, given what I know about who this vampire was when it was human, I'm not entirely displeased by that.

One more thing that people get all excited about for no real reason is lesbian bars. They get this image of cat-suited sex maniacs writhing on the floor during the nightly no-boys-allowed orgy, but a bar is pretty much a bar, no matter who the customers are. People go places like that to relax and mingle, so t-shirts, jeans, and comfortable shoes are way more likely than black latex.

Pandora's Box was a quiet place about three blocks away from the Albert Dock. It was the sort of place that got by on word of mouth, and I probably would have walked right past it if I hadn't known what I was looking for. About two dozen sets of eyes landed on me when I walked in, but there was nothing unfriendly in the looks. If anything, a couple of the women looked relieved, as if they had guessed why I had come. The main room was set up in the usual style, with the bar on one side near the door, a few tables scattered across the floor, and a line of booths against the far wall. Interestingly, all of the customers except one had migrated towards the bar, leaving the tables almost entirely empty. The patrons seemed to be an even mix of older locals and university age girls. There was an air of nervousness in the room, as if most of them wanted to leave, but couldn't quite work up the courage for it.

I glanced at the single occupied booth, then gave them my best 'I'll take care of it' grin and nod, which seemed to reassure most of them, though the bartender still looked worried. She was an attractive older woman with bottle blonde hair, and she probably thought I was going to tear the place up.

"There won't be any trouble," I told her. "We'll be gone in just a second."

She looked marginally reassured. "I was getting ready to call the police," she told me. "Is that you?"

I smiled at her. "That's me. I'm Harry Potter."

The vampire sitting in the farthest booth suddenly jerked its head to stare at me. Anyone going off the common image of both vampires and lesbians would have been perfectly reassured by the sight of it. A tight black silk dress with a wide, deep neckline and a slit down the skirt that showed a completely inappropriate amount of pale thigh. Waist length, straight black hair, and enough eyeliner to black a pair of boots. I walked over and stared down at it.

"Hello, Gilderoy," I said. "It's been a while."

Gilderoy Lockhart crouched down in his seat and showed me his fangs. His black wig was hanging askew, exposing part of his thinning hairline, and the ridiculously oversized false breasts he had shoved down the front of his dress were doing their best to climb back out again.

"Who is this Gilderoy you speak of," he hissed.

I'm not being poetic either. He literally hissed it through his fangs.

"I am Amarice, Mistress of the Dark," he continued, hissing every word like a snake. Then again, most of the snakes I know are way more intelligible. "I knew that one day we would finally face each other, Potter! Know that I am your doom!"

"That's nice," I drawled, then sat down across from him. I considered ordering a drink, but I doubted anyone here would thank me for prolonging this nonsense. "This is your own fault, you realize. The doctors told you a hundred times that you didn't actually do any of the things you wrote about in your books, but you wanted to run out and relive your glory days, didn't you?"

Lockhart flexed his fingers at me like they were claws. I noticed that his fingernails were black press-ons, and that the left pinky was hanging on by a thread. "I have walked this earth since the time of Charlemagne, boy! Do you think I fear you just because you defeated that upstart Voldemort! I shall make a drinking cup out of your skull!"

"You're making this very easy on me, you know," I told him. "I'd have killed you already, except Hermione still has all those books you made us buy in second year, and I think she might actually make me do the paperwork if I don't bring you back alive. So tell you what. How about we just head on back to St Mungo's and forget this ever happened? I'll even let you keep the dress."

Amarice, Mistress of the Dark, answered me by leaping across the table, fangs aimed at my throat, false hair and breasts flying.

"Lumos Solem," I muttered under my breath. Sunlight flared from the tip of my wand, which I had been pointing at Lockhart under the table from the second I had sat down. Lockhart's legs vanished in a flash of blue fire, and his top half, which had been shielded by the table, thumped down in front of me. The muggles started screaming, but I flicked my wand at the door, slamming it shut and locking it. Lockhart scrambled off the table and started dragging himself towards the crowd of women near the exit, either looking for a way out or a quick meal to restore his strength. I blasted him out of his misery before he'd gotten close enough for either. A quick repair charm for the scorched upholstery and a few memory modifications later, and I was on my way home. Technically, I was supposed to check in with the Auror Office for an after action report, but Hermione could have her paperwork in the morning.

"Life isn't always fair," I said to myself as I walked down the dark street. "But if you wait long enough, you really do get what you deserve. Goodbye, Professor."

AN: I don't like vampires, and I'm not particularly impressed by lesbians, so I doubt this is much like what anyone would have expected from me, but the idea of Lockhart dressed like Elvira popped into my head, and demanded to be set free. You should blame yourself for reading it.

 

The line "I am your doom" was stolen from Side Jobs. That said, transgender-vampire-Lockhart is as hilarious and disturbing as Sweet transvestite from the Rocky Horror picture show.

 

All I have to say is that it ought to be a crime for you to start such an entertaining piece and then conclude it so soon.

 

If I ripped it off, it was subconsciously. As cheesy banter goes, that's pretty standard fare. And Lockhart wasn't actually transgendered, he's just a big, dopy guy in a dress who's brain has been pounded into so much mashed potato that he's convinced himself that he really is a thousand year old vampire queen. I'd intended to include a line about how he was the one who drove the original vampire insane through sheer annoyance, but it got left out somewhere.

Zenzao: I don't know what else I'd do with it. It's just a little peek at Harry the Auror's life. I imagine him as the guy who gets all of the difficult, annoying jobs, since "surely only Harry Potter would know how to handle it", and has become a little bored with the whole thing over the years. Hermione is his detail-obsessed, paperwork worshiping superior who he occasionally shuts up by bending her over her desk and fucking her until she forgets how to sign her name.

I'd need a real villain to make anything interesting out of it, and I've got too much other stuff to do to waste the brain power on finding one or making an actual plot.

 

That was actually far more than I was expecting you to say on the subject. Thank you.

 

Now I really want to read that.

 

I really liked the description of vampires Big D.

 

Holy fuck that jolted me. I was just reading, casually as you please and Harry springs that line. Fucking genius.

I'm glad you took it seriously, though, Big-D. Thanks, it was awesome to see your Harry in action again.

---------- Post automerged at 16:09 ---------- Previous post was at 15:53 ----------

Edit that. It doesn't sound right. Maybe

Prompt: Daphne spoke up finally, delivering an impromptu eulogy
"Lord we give you Harry Potter. Try not to piss him off."

 

Like I said above, I'm not sure where there is to go with it. It's just too much trouble to plot out another story, and I'm still not sure the premise is worth it. The best I could come up with is sort of a sub-genre of TGYH, where instead of throwing out a random line or premise, someone gives out a noir-style title and we go from there, imagining what adult Harry is up to these days.

Harry Potter and the Case of the Blibbering Humdinger
Harry Potter and the Case of the Black-Haired Veela
Harry Potter and the Case of the Upside Down Kraken

Stuff like that. Short little glimpses into Auror Harry's life and adventures.

Stalin's Pipe Organs: That was mostly stream of consciousness, drawn from various other things I've been working on or thinking about. Vampires don't seem to be particularly important or dangerous in the HP 'verse, though people are still afraid of them, so I just took that and worked backwards. Glad you enjoyed it.

Tommy B: Thanks. I'm kind of surprised it came out that well myself, since I was being more or less honest in my views on vampires and lesbians. I think they're kind of boring.

 

Length: Whatever fits
Time: As long as needed

Prompt: "I've destroyed your soul, Harry Potter."

"And I've destroyed yours," The Boy Who Lived responded.

 

Hmm, this calls for an essay of some kind. Maybe 200-300 words that I could try. Hang on

 

Anyone care to toss me a prompt? I've a weekend at my disposal and wouldn't mind doing a one-shot. Something in the 3-5k range by Monday would be ideal.

Thanks!

 

What verse are to up to writing in, Persp?

 

Harry Potter, probably (though I could try to pull off a Dresden or Naruto if necessary). I'm in the mood to write about adults, so nothing too Hogwarts-centric would be best.

 

A Point Break inspired bunny has been popping in my mind since a couple of days ago. Don't know if you're going to like it.

Prompt:

Johnny Utah: Bohdi! This is your wakeup call I AM AN F... B... I AGENT!

Bodhi: I know, isn't it wild!

The thing is, I don't know who I would choose to represent Bodhi and Johnny Utah, but Harry Potter is one of them for sure.

 

Harry Potter grew up loving the stars. He loved everything about space, and the exploration of it. When he got to Hogwarts he found out that there was a perfectly accurate real-time map of the Galaxy for sale in a high street shop.

Imagine his wonder at such a look into the cosmos. Imagine his disappointment to find out that Wizards had explored the whole universe centuries ago with their divination magic and found out that humanity is utterly alone in the Universe. There isn't another sentient life outside of Earth anywhere.

 

I'd actually recommend Tonks as Utah and Sirius as Bodhi and set it in years 3/4 before Tonks joins the Order.

 

Prompt:

The death eaters laughed cruelly with their wands to the group's necks while Lucius confronted Harry for the prophecy.

A large ribbit sounded in the room, and everyone turned to look at Trevor in between Malfoy Senior and Potter Junior.

In one smooth motion, Neville bit his tongue hard enough to bleed, touched his bleeding tongue with his right hand, and then slammed his hand on the ground.

"Kuchiyose no Jutsu!"

 

prompt:

Sorry, but I should be going now. I need Time-Turner to prevent yet another problem, Yuri Andropov just started the Third World War. And please, find and fire the slacker that was supposed to Imperius him today.