• First Annual Ginny Kill Off
• Second Annual Ginny Kill Off
• Second Annual Draco Kill Off
• First Annual Snape Kill Off

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Seems the First Draco has gone missing. And there never has been a second Snape...

But since there is a lot of nothing going on, I figure its time to pump some amusement back into the forums and see what you all can come up with.

So lets get cracking, shall we?

Rules are simple:

1. 2500 Words or less.
2. Humor is preferred, but not required.
3. Graphic is preferred, but not required.
4. Ginny/Snape/Malfoy must die. (It doesn't have to be by Harry's hand, but most of us prefer Harry-centric)
5. The obvious high standards of Dark Lord Potter are also mandatory. (Meaning, make sure it's got correct spelling, and proper grammar where required.)

​

Most importantly: Have fun.

 

Here's my attempt, it may well have been done before and touches on cliché elements. Anyway, enjoy.

The flashes of curse light illuminated the dust that hung heavy in the air that constricted her lungs and obscured her vision. The fierce exchanges of spell fire echoed around the room making it impossible to discern one from the other. Nevertheless, Ginevra Weasley was queen of the battle field and danced a graceful path across the room, her fiery red hair fluttering around her as she dodged spell and blade alike. Each step she made was perfect and her form echoed the elegance of the swan as she felled each and every foe that came before her wand.

Neatly dodging a fireball that hurtled over head, she turned and her wand fluttered up, releasing a storm of blue bubbles into her attacker’s face that froze him in position. She delivered a quick kick to his midsection that broke him into a thousand glittering pieces.

“I guess I should have told you to freeze, eh Dolohov?” she said, suppressing a giggle and turned to engage her next attacker.

She dodged a clumsy stunner and wordlessly banished him into several of his companions, knocking them all to the floor.

“I’d call that a strike,” came a voice behind her and Harry Potter, her fiancée stepped up to her, seizing her into a long kiss. They both broke away to drop another Death Eater each, their hands still clasped. A second later they closed together again, this time back to back.

“I’ll give one thing to these Death Eaters,” said Ginny, smiling grimly, her eyes alight with the love of battle. “They sure know how to throw a party.”

“I suppose it was until we crashed it,” replied Harry and cursed a Death Eater who jumped from the smoke, swinging a vast axe.

Ginny kicked the axe into her hand and used it to neatly bisect another attacker. She was just preparing to swing it into the face of a second when Harry’s voice made her jump.

“Ginny!”

“What?”

The second Death Eater fell to her axe.

“Ginny!”

“What?”

Another died, screaming for his mother.

“Ginny!”

The hand on her shoulder jerked her awake, she looked up through bleary eyes at the man in front of her.

“Harry,” she whispered and he smiled a wan smile at her. She reached out to touch his face. “You’ve gotten so old.”

Harry Potter was no longer the young vibrant man she remembered. His skin was now mottled by age and lined with scars; trophies of his days as an Auror. Her eyes moved to her own hand and saw it too was old, wrinkled and flecked with liver spots.

“I’m old too,” she said, tears springing to her eyes.

“Yes, dear. Here, I made you a cup of tea.” He passed it to her and helped her drink it. The hot ceramic stung her fingertips but the warm tea inside her made her feel younger and better. She looked around and realised she was sat before the fire in the drawing room.

“I was dreaming,” she said. “Of the attack on Malfoy Manor.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I know, but I used to imagine fighting by your side, did I ever tell you that?”

“Every day.”

“Are we going to Harriet Longbottom’s wedding today? That’s Neville’s granddaughter.”

“The wedding was three years ago, Ginny.”

“Oh.” She began to cry again, though she didn’t know why.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He lifted her easily, he’d always been so strong, her Harry. He took her upstairs and laid her down on the bed, tucking the covers around her and standing at her bedside. He stroked her hair gently.

“Have you taken your medicine?” asked Ginny softly, already half asleep.

“Yes, dear,” said Harry, but Ginny detected steely sounds hidden beneath his calm, comforting voice. She opened her eyes wide and saw the look of intense anger on her husband’s face.

“Harry, what’s–” she began, but Harry with a sudden look of intense loathing seized the pillow next to her head and pushed it down over her face.

For a moment she lay still in complete shock, unwilling to believe what was happening, then she tried to claw the pillow away as her lungs gasped for air. The pressure on her face was unabated and she tried to scream, but all that came out of her mouth was a muffled, breathless yell.

“Shhh,” said Harry calmly and pushed the pillow down harder.

Ginny began to wretch, she felt lightheaded and disorientated. She clawed again at her husband’s hands but they remained firm. So strong, her Harry, so strong. Her lungs began to ache inside her chest.

“Shhh,” he said again and pushed harder.

She kicked lightly, but the fight was leaving her, darkness was enclosing around her.

“Relax,” he said. “It’ll all be over soon; quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

She let out the last of the air in her lungs as a last muffled scream, then the breathlessness overtook her, dragging her into the darkness. Her hand closed around her husband’s for a moment, then, as she died, relaxed and fell away.

Harry held the pillow down for another half a minute but it soon became apparent that she was gone. Calmly, he straightened his glasses and replaced the pillow. He walked from the room and went downstairs. He paused momentarily in the drawing room, to fold the blanket she’d snoozed under and to drink the last of her slowly cooling tea by the side of the chair.

He walked into the kitchen and put the mug into the sink, pouring a little water on it, he washed it the muggle way before replacing it on the shelf. He stared at his reflection in the window over the sink and out into the bright morning outside. A hundred years of deceit, of potions and of slavery. He reached up into the cupboard to his left and poured the last of amortentia down the sink. He looked at the bottle for a moment, before cleaning it thoroughly and replacing it in the cupboard.

Finally, he turned from the window and walked into the study. After all, he had floo calls to make and an obituary to write.

‘Former chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, Ginevra Potter passed away quietly during the night after a long struggle with Alzheimer's. She had a long and illustrious career, serving in Dumbledore’s Army, playing for the Holyhead Harpies and serving as the senior quidditch correspondent for the Daily Prophet. She is survived by three children and a very happy husband.’

Yes, thought Harry, that would do very nicely.

 

Here's my contribution: A future scene from Escape to Darkness, if I ever manage to get off the ground with the next chapter.

Enjoy...the death of Draco Malfoy!

***

“Ungrateful bitch!” Draco swore viciously, as he saw the emptiness of Astoria’s room upon his arrival home.

The news had just hit the well-to-do of society, likely leaked from a chatty Daily Prophet employee, since it was the headline of tomorrow’s paper. A series of bad investments called in, a paperwork mix-up that resulted in some Muggles confiscating money for “back taxes” – whatever those were – and marital troubles between his parents had bankrupted the Malfoy fortune, once valued at hundreds of millions of galleons.

Draco imagined the look on her fine features as she discovered that she was now poor – that they were living on a Ministry salary now. There would be no more expensive shopping trips to Twillfit & Tatting’s.

He wondered just how long it took her to make the decision to leave him. Probably not even the duration of brunch.

Draco harshly tore off his fine crimson Auror robe and flung it angrily across the room, as he fought the tightness of his throat that belied his feelings. A quick examination of the bedroom, Astoria’s sitting room, the nursery they’d never had a use for, and the parlor convinced him that there was now nothing left in the house to indicate that she’d ever been there.

A loud ‘Crack!’ sounded behind him and he turned around, drawing his wand. A red curse erupted from it, but his aim was off and the intruder was unharmed.

Draco was thankful for that, because in his angry haste, he’d nearly cursed his disheveled father.

“Draco! How dare you turn your wand on me!” Lucius cried, his voice acidic and accusing. His eyes were wild and roaming, as though he was on the lookout for hidden enemies.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Draco apologized as he placed his wand back in its shoulder rig. “You just surprised me…I wasn’t expected guests.” He eyed the empty parlor – his wife had even taken most of the expensive furnishings. Half of them were her family heirlooms; perhaps she was entitled to them, but Draco was still livid.

“Astoria left,” he blurted suddenly to his father. “She took all of her things. I think she heard about what happened to our fortune.”

He should have known better than to expect sympathy; after years of seeing the lack of feelings between his father and mother, how could he have expected the man to understand? Despite the arranged marriage to a girl many years his junior, whom he had never known before the first discussions of betrothal, Draco had developed true affection for his beautiful wife – to know that he was nothing to her without his money was a bitter pill for the Malfoy scion to swallow.

“I care nothing for your whore of a wife, Draco. I’ve come to talk to you about the killer! I can make a case for that Desjardins – I’ve known he’s trouble since the start, and –”

“Shut up you bitter old bastard!” Draco bellowed at his father. Lucius looked shocked – his son had rarely raised his voice to him before, and never would have dared to insult him.

“Look at you!” Draco continued, outraged. “Look at what the great Lucius Malfoy has become – a lunatic. You’ve become obsessed – and over what? A few odd occurrences? I’m Head Auror, Father, and I looked over the ‘evidence’ as you called it. It’s nothing. It’s just your addled mind, grasping at straws trying to blame someone for your own incompetence. Desjardins was at the right place at the right time, with the right amount of money. And lucky for everyone that he was! St. Mungo’s would be a mess without he and Mother.” Lucius’ face grew flushed and blotchy with rage.

“Desjardins is a thief and a liar! I told you, Draco, I think he’s behind everything! Don’t be such an ignorant fool! Even the death of Barty –”

“You’re crazy! You cannot or will not accept the fact that you are a terrible wizard who lost a massive fortune in a few months. You’re grasping at ridiculous notions, and you have the audacity to call me a fool? I’m the only reason you haven’t lost your respect earlier! You rested the laurels of Grandfather’s accomplishments for too long, and then tried to claim my own achievements! The only way I was a fool was to entertain the possibility of Desjardins’ guilt for as long as I did. The other Aurors in the department thought it crazy, just as I did, but I did it for you. No more.” Draco marched around his flabbergasted father and opened the door.

“Leave, Father. You are no longer welcome here. And if you try to come around the station, I’ll have my men arrest you.” Lucius looked confused as he eyed his son with a mad glint in his eye.

“Wha-what are you doing, Draco? You’re abandoning me? But, this is probably just what Desjardins wanted! Has he gotten to you, like he got to your mother? That bitch! She’s behind this betrayal, isn’t she?” Draco angrily drew his wand from its holster once more.

“Enough of your vitriol, Father, OUT!” Draco silently Banished his Father out the door, and slammed it shut.

It was a few hours later, and several generous glasses of Firewhiskey, that there was a knock on the door. Draco opened it viciously and spat, “What?” at the squirrely boy standing outside.

“Mr. Malfoy? Walter Coberly, Daily Prophet.” The boy looked a bit like those annoying twats, the Creeveys, from Hogwarts. Draco still saw the younger one, who was a janitor on his floor at the Ministry. But even beyond that, he looked vaguely familiar.

“I know you, boy…” Draco said ponderously. His bloodshot eyes tried to take in a clearer picture, but it wasn’t coming to him.

“You interviewed me once, sir. I was a witness to a crime –”

“Barty Crouch’s abduction.” Draco finished, finally placing him. “Well, come in, then. What do you want?” The mousey-haired boy followed Draco inside. He eyed the glass as Draco poured himself another helping of the whiskey, but wasn’t offered a glass, so he kept silent.

“Well, speak boy! I assume you want the story on the loss of my fortune? It was my damned father, so I know little enough about it.” Draco swallowed the glass of fiery liquid, and enjoyed the feeling of it burning all the way down.

“Actually sir, the story I’m covering is about you personally.” Draco scowled even deeper – how did these vultures find out so quickly about Astoria’s departure?

“Did that bitch tell you? I don’t need you writing some story about my marital troubles!” Draco said threateningly. The boy pulled out a paper and handed it to him.

“Actually sir, the story’s already written. Here’s a copy.” Draco unrolled the paper and nearly dropped it. Sure enough, the headline was about his family’s fiscal irresponsibility and bankruptcy. But underneath it was another story.

Malfoy heir takes own life in the wake of financial trouble.

“What nonsense is this? I’ve done no such thing!” A bolt of white light hit him, and he dropped the paper as his limbs snapped together. The boy reached into the revealed shoulder harness where Draco kept his wand, and held it in his left hand. Boy ran his own wand over his features and they changed. He grew older, and slightly taller.

The face of his attacker was sharp, gaunt, Draco saw as he wildly moved his eyes, the only part of his body he could move. He was thin, bordering on sickly, but he bore an odd familiarity.

“I think you’ll find, Draco, that soon enough you will die at the end of your own wand. It is understandable, I suppose – you cared deeply for your recently estranged wife, you were distraught by the destruction of your parents’ marriage by scandalous infidelity from both of them, and the loss of your fortune…well, it’s enough to drive anyone to desperate measures, I think.” Draco was trying to move his mouth, but only a whimper came out as he couldn’t move his jaw.

The attacker saw this, and remedied it; this kind of revenge kill was something to be savored.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this?” Draco frantically asked, as tears started running down his face in light of his helplessness. The spell clamped his lips shut before he could say more.

“Draco, you don’t remember an old friend like me? As for why I’m doing this…your father destroyed my life – everything I held dear – when he threw me in prison to rot for the rest of my life. I had to repay the favor. You’re not important at all, except that you used to be something he cared about. Before you abandoned him and threw him out of your house for bringing actual evidence to you, of course.” The shape-shifting attacker smiled then, and raised the fringe of hair from his brow to reveal a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Draco’s eyes grew impossibly wide and his face even paler.

Harry considered letting his childhood antagonist talk once more, but thought better of it.

“Of course, Desjardins was guilty of probably everything Lucius accused him of – he is me, after all. But now, Draco, it’s time for grief to overcome you as you place your own wand to your chest.” Harry pointed the hawthorn wand, a rich blonde specimen with fine grain, at Draco’s chest as he dictated.

Tears were running liberally down Malfoy’s cheeks now, as he closed his eyes tightly. He might have begged for mercy, if Harry hadn’t Full Body-bound his jaw shut and his limbs tight together.

He had little to offer Harry in exchange, anyway.

“Avada Kedavra!” Harry said, and a sickly green bolt of light traveled the miniscule distance to Malfoy’s body. The body bind spell let up instantly, and Draco Malfoy became a limp corpse on the floor of his drawing room. Placing the wand in his former classmate’s hand, Harry gathered up the newspaper and calmly left Draco’s house, Apparating once he reached the same spot that Lucius had left from a few hours before.

 

Here is my attempt for the third Annual Ginny KO, hope you enjoy. I don't expect to win, however I would like mercy on my awkward writing style with it being my first story written in a long time :

Harry Potter was not a happy husband. His marriage to his wife of nineteen years now, Ginevra Weasley did not turn out quite like he expected. He realized now that it was a poor choice to get married right after the end of the war, while hopes were high for the future. While the kids were at home, things weren’t so bad since he could spend his days with them. However, with them being at Hogwarts now, all she ever did was nag.

Harry also had come to realize that the old saying was true, if you want to see what your wife will look like in the future just look at her mother. Harry shuddered at the thought of the last time him and Ginny had made what is supposedly love. Harry thought about how she is a dead fish now since he refused to play some of her twisted sex games.

Divorce was out of the question however. It turns out other then the spouse being dead, there was no way out of a Wizard marriage. Besides, Harry knew he couldn’t kill her because of the kids. However, he was at his wits end and decided there was only one thing he could do. He took a swig of firewhiskey as he rose from the kitchen table of their home. Harry had quickly grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

Once he arrived at the Ministry of Magic, Harry quickly made his way down to the Department of Mysteries. Being the Head Auror gave Harry the special clearance to go down to the Department of Mysteries. Luckily, things had changed since Harry was in his 5th year when it came to security. Harry made his way over to the shelf of time turners, wondering how long it took the Ministry to get back to a normal supply again after that incident. Harry grabbed a time turner off the shelf while throwing the Invisibility Cloak over himself. He put the time turner over his head and around his neck like he remembered Hermione doing back in his 3rd year. He did the necessary number of turns, and only hoped it would be enough.

‘Success!’ thought Harry as he used the time spell to double check that he had arrived in the right time. Harry cast the disillusionment charm over himself and once again felt the feeling that a cold flood was running over him. To help increase his chances of success, Harry had brought his Invisibility Cloak and quietly was able to sneak out of the Ministry. Once he was out of the ministry, Harry apparated to his destination, the Burrow.

Harry had arrived on the outskirts of the Burrow as it was early evening, almost forgetting about the wards. The war was in full swing at this point and it would be almost five months before Harry’s parents died. However, Harry wasn’t here to change that. Luck was on Harry's side as he was able to get through the wards, and hoped that luck continued as he knocked on the door. Harry then waited while still disillusioned, hoping this plan would work.

A pregnant Molly Weasley opened the door, wand in hand as she saw nobody was outside.


“Hello? Is there anyone there?” called out Molly.


Harry took a deep quiet breath, and realized it was now or never. He raised his hand back and in one swift motion yelled “FALCON PUNCH.”

 

Throws stones.

 

Goddamnit I lol'd.

 

Harry never did like Floo travel.
​

Floo​

It was a warm summer evening and the sun had just begun to set. Harry peered into the mirror, noticing the scar on the left side of his neck. It was rather tender and even the skilled Healer from St. Mungo’s had not been able to completely heal the wound. Such was the price of an Auror’s work. Sometimes he wondered if he should have followed Ron into Quidditch. Ron’s vault was thrice the size of his own and he got to fly for a living. Still it had been worth it Harry thought. Two little girls were saved and he was promoted to Auror Captain.

“Gin-nay! Do we have to go to this event?” Harry fixed the collar of his dress robes so that the new scar wouldn’t show.

“Of course we do Harry. Just because you can’t seem to Floo correctly after all these years doesn’t mean that we should avoid it. Maybe you’ll get better.”

Harry protested against Ginny’s claim.

“It’s just so inconvenient. Too far away to Apparate or fly and the Ministry portkeys are impossible to obtain nowadays. And no I’m not avoiding the Floo because I can’t land right side up.”

Ginny walked over in a brilliant red dress adorned with a necklace of diamonds and patted him on the head like a child. She also stared at his neck.

“Poor dear, if only that was the worst of your problems. I can’t believe how much sick up I had to Vanish the last time you Flooed in. What on earth did you do to the collar of those robes?”

Harry kept his head high and gave her a haughty stare.

“I’m popping my collar. Boy Who Lived, Auror Captain.”

She snorted like a pig and spoke in the most annoying baby voice. It made Harry want to curse her mute. If he had known back then that Ginny talked like this, he wouldn’t have married her.

“Aww…Is poor little Harry getting a big head? Did his new scar make him all feel important?”

She pinched his cheeks as well and pulled his face to her breast. Angered by her tone her annoying habits, he pushed her away forcefully. She landed with a thump.

“Stop that. I don’t want to see you ever do that again.”

Her eyes glinted dangerously and he told himself that it was his imagination but it seemed as if her fiery red hair had gotten even redder.

“Fine, Harry James Potter. Maybe I won’t ever talk to you again. Now let’s go. We can’t be late again now can we?”

She huffed and picked herself off the ground and disappeared into the living room.

“Maybe I need a divorce.”

Harry spoke aloud and angrily walked to find his wife.

Ginny stood by the large marble fireplace. Why she had insisted on such an ornate hearth, he did not understand. She claimed it would be nice to receive visitors in a fireplace that one can stand in without crouching. Harry thought it was a waste of money.

She snapped her wand at the wood and with a quick Incendio, flames exploded in the fireplace. The inferno danced angrily, spitted sparks and emitted hisses. Harry gave Ginny and the fireplace a wary glance.

She thrust the pot of Floo Powder into his chest and gave him a steely glare.

“You first.”

“I thought you weren’t talking.”

Ginny stared him down.

“What? No way. I’ll fly or something. I’ll make my way there.”

Ginny gave another unladylike snort.

“With what? The new Lightningbolt broom that you don’t have? I’m surprised you didn’t pose in a picture with it or buy it with Dumbledore’s and Sirius’ inheritance that you’ve kept hidden.”

Harry retorted with contempt. Greedy bitch wanted more money from his supposedly hidden billions of Galleons.

“They named it after me. I should pose with the broom. It is my right. Also, if you must know, Dumbledore left me nothing and Sirius thought it would be brilliant to leave me two knuts and a wand. So if you want you can take that and shove it up your arse and make diamonds out of it you bitch!”

With that, stepped into the fireplace backwards and threw the Floo powder over his shoulder and cried out, “Cottage by the Seaside.”

As the green flames hissed angrily at him and he was whisked away, he could have sworn that Ginny’s fiery red hair had become the embodiment of fire. But before he could think of it any further, his world spun so quickly that he thought his arms were going to be torn out of his sockets or perhaps the Floo would rip his clothing to shreds and him with it. Something was very wrong. The last trip had left him so sick that he was heaving his guts out hours after the trip. Sure some Firewhisky was involved and a loony blonde may have cleaned out his “Frogalygloop infestations” but this proved that the Floo was out to get him.

Suddenly it was over and Harry was ejected out of the fireplace. Neville gave him a worried look as he offered a hand.

“Oh my. You don’t look so good Harry. You look like you could do with a Draught of Morning Sickness.”

The room was still spinning something awful and he closed his eyes to try and regain his senses. Suddenly, a terrible shriek filled the room and burning heat assaulted his face. Harry’s eyes shot open and with great instinct born from Auror training, his wand flashed in front of the two men and he spelled the heat away.

“Protego!”

Hell itself exploded around him, the heat so intense that it could only have been matched by the power of the Elder Wand. Harry exerted his will and his mind but they were knocked off their feet by the force of the great conflagration. Was the Floo really powered by Heliopaths, granting wizards the ability to travel through the fires of Hell itself? Perhaps Luna was right he realized as his back collided with a wall. Beside him, Neville had managed to cast a Cushioning Charm and seemed to just bounce off.

Suddenly, it was over and the terrifying shriek ended. Neville’s den was in disarray, furniture upended and soot had tarnished the walls. As the smoke cleared they spotted a figure by the fireplace laying face down. The fireplace was still burning along with Ginny Potter’s charred body. Her fiery red hair was her only recognizable feature and it seemed that it really was on fire. That fire was spreading through the den and threatened to consume the house.

“Dear Merlin! What in the name of wizardry is going on here?”

Neville cried as he swished his wand frantically, seeking to dispel the destruction. Other guests from the party made their way to the room and cried out in fright. Harry was content to lay where he was, not wanting to move his bruised and battered body. Blackness rushed to consume his mind so he spoke once before succumbing to the darkness.

“I’m never taking the Floo again. That shit is evil.”

 

I originally intended this as an omake to the whole planned Silence Game sequence of fics, but I figured I could toss this in here, considering the nature of this...

Execution Game​

by Silens Cursor​

Two and a half years after the events in Silence Game...


There is a time for everything: a time for war, a time for peace, a time to live, a time to die, a time to reap, a time to sow, a time for mercy...

And a time to be merciless.

The doors of the ancient chapel explode open at the touch of the Elder Wand - my wand. No light steams into the hall - it is three o'clock in the morning, and even the Muggle streetlights are dead.

No matter - there will be illumination soon enough.

I remember the feeling of surprise that he would take shelter here, behind the weight of cold history and faith. He probably thought that I would never find him here.

He underestimated me again - a shame, considering everything I have accomplished in those years after the Battle of Hogwarts. After I let him live...

The doors slam shut behind me, shrouding the hall in total darkness, but I continue walking, my boots tapping ominously on the floor, the sounds echoing through the hall, cutting through the silence...

I stop at the end of the hall and raise the Elder Wand. It is warm beneath my fingers... eager for what is to come...

"Illuminate him, Su."

There is a flash, and a cool white light erupted from Su Li's outstretched wand, soaring up to the high rafters of the ceiling. It was chill, and gave no warmth, but it was not meant to. It was only meant to illuminate, pay a testament to justice...

Su Li turns to me, her expression icy. She makes no sound as she approaches. Her hand brushes the edge of my pants as she sidles past me, her mirror-like eyes reflecting triumph - and eagerness.

She has learned well, indeed.

Directly beneath the light, he sits. Blood seeps down his face from a cut above his eye, and gashes litter his chest, the blood staining his fine white shirt. There is a foul smell - it appears, I note to my amusement, that he has soiled himself with fear. Completely unsurprisingly, yet satisfactory.

He looks as though he would want to scream my name... but he cannot. Su made sure of that. He cannot even open his mouth to scream - primarily because he no longer has a mouth. Only pale white skin is beneath his nose - a brutal spell to cast, and one of Su's favourites.

His eyes, pale grey, are fearful. I'm not surprised. He must have expected to die for his crimes, die a hero and a martyr for a new cause, like the man on the cross at the end of the hall.

But he is no god - he is standing against one. That would be what Hermione would say, as she proclaims my apotheosis. A lie, but a useful one, one that has allowed me to obliterate the Ministry and finally tame the goblins and most of the wizarding world.

And he remains one of the last obstacles to my final ascension.

"Good evening, Draco."

He thrashes silently in the chair, but he dares not rise, for he knows that I will strike him dead in a heartbeat. Or perhaps it is because Su ripped his hamstrings out of his legs, I cannot be sure.

"You knew this was going to happen," I said calmly, stepping closer and raising the Elder Wand. "You knew what would happen should you stand against me."

He looks at me with purest hatred, and I chuckle under my breath as Su hands me his wand. It is a good wand - one even I have used - but some things are necessary.

The wand snaps easily over my knee. His eyes widen as I hand the two pieces back to Su. Her eyes are burning with raw pleasure as she steps closer and casts a silent bit of magic over the wooden shards.

"And you know, I might have chosen to be merciful, Draco, if you had kept your mouth shut and your hands to yourself. No need to worry about that now, though. Su, if you will."

He throws his head back as agony rocks his body - probably having something to do with the two wand shards that Su just drove his bloody hands, but I could be wrong. Even as his mouthless face contorts with pain, I step closer, my eyes blazing.

"It wasn't hard to discover the truth, Draco," I whisper fiercely. "Su and I found her body... and from the marks on it, I know what you did. And even though you raped her brutally, she was probably the best you ever had. But by now, you should know not to take what is mine. Su?"

His pants are torn away, and a silent curse later, he is left convulsing in the chair, his manhood quivering and bloody on the floor.

"What made you do it, Draco?" I ask, keeping my voice light. "Was it the fact that your father died in Azkaban? Or was it when your mother was found dead in the manor, with the bottle of nightshade in her hands? Or perhaps it was when Astoria made that fateful choice to accept my offer and join the society I created? Or when my auditors found the truths of your fraud and took away every Galleon you ever owned? What was it, Draco? What made you so angry you thought you could rape and kill and get away with it?"

His eyes are filled with tears now, mixing with the blood on his face, but I do not care. A wave of the Elder Wand transfigures the severed organs into long, barbed metal blades, reminiscent of railroad spikes. His eyes widen as Su levitates them with a wave of her wand. A second later, he is being levitated too, flying up and up and up...

He lands with a sodden thud against the ceiling, looking down upon me with terrified eyes. Su is shaking next to me, and it does not require a keen mind to tell that she is quivering with ecstacy, relishing my plan.

Yes, she has been trained well indeed...

"You chose to hide behind a man who may have died for us all, but I ask you this now," I continue, the spikes hovering in the air and pointed straight upwards with another wave of the Elder Wand. "Who are you dying for?"

A flick of Su's wand causes Draco's legs to snap together. I can see droplets of blood making their long far towards the floor - blood and tears.

"No answer? Very well. Su, the honours are yours."

The spikes shoot skyward, and three new gushes of blood fall from the ceiling. Hmm, we can't have that...

Another wave of the Elder Wand, and the wounds seal. The skin around the gory slashes hardens... calcifies.

After a few seconds of casting, it is finished. I look upwards to see his panicked face thrash against the stone, but he's not going anywhere... crucified without a cross...

"It's over, Draco. They'll never see you... they'll never hear you... and unlike the last murder in this cathedral, nobody will ever know. Goodbye, Draco."

I turn to Su and pull her gently into my embrace. My hand slips down the back her skirt easily.

"My, you're wet. You're that excited?"

She answers with a savage kiss, and I know. It is the ultimate silencing - and she is aroused by it.

And deep inside, so am I.

"Very well then. Right here." I look up. "You hear that Draco? You'll see beauty one last time, because there's none where you're going."

And none likely where I'm going, but opportunity makes demons of us all.

 

Both boys stood in front of their former Professor Lockhart in what had previously been his office, watching as the handsome-faced man struggled to hurriedly pack up his belongings. The two young men shared a glance and, after a moment, the raven-haired boy Harry nodded, his face growing suddenly determined. The red-headed boy Ron took a deep breath and then opened his mouth, uttering the first thing that came to mind.

"Aren't you going to help my sister?" he queried, his voice trembling. "We figured--well, our friend Hermione--anyway, we figured out that the monster in the chamber is actually a Basilisk!" He stopped rambling and asked again, "Will you help my sister?"

The man before them stopped packing and spoke without turning around. "Well, you see boys, I'm not so sure that there will be anything left to save. Forgive me for being blunt, Mr. Weasley," he said, rolling a framed portrait of himself across his manicured fingers, "But the monster down in the Chamber--whatever monster it is--has most likely already robbed the unfortunate Miss Weasley of her last breath. As much as I would like to help..." He trailed off, laying the frame in a briefcase and fastening the locks on each side.

Ron's mouth hung open and he looked to Harry dumbstruck. What kind of man would leave a poor little girl--his sister for Merlin's sake--to die without even trying to save her!

Harry cried, outraged, "What do you mean you "would like to help?" You're packing up your things and preparing to leave the school!"

Lockhart just laughed softly, "So you've caught me red-handed, Mr. Potter. Yes. I'm leaving Hogwarts tonight."

Inwardly Harry seethed. He knew that Lockhart was a fraud, but to leave the school without even pretending to help was lower than he had previously thought possible. "You can't leave! I-" he took a deep breath, "I'll tell Dumbledore and-"

Lockhart snorted, "And what? The old man can't force me to stay. Ginny Weasley will be dead, the school will be closed tomorrow and if things go as planned, he'll probably be kicked out Hogwarts immediately. Lucius Malfoy will see to that I'd imagine. A little gold in the right hands and Dumbledore's reputation will be," he snapped his fingers, "tainted. Permanently."

Harry couldn't allow Dumbledore to be slandered and so he whipped out his wand, pointing it at Lockhart's back. "You--you're going to help us! You're going to the Chamber with us!"

This time Lockhart did turn around, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow at the young boys. "No, quite the contrary Mr. Potter, I'm staying far away from the Chamber. Or," and he nodded at Harry's wand, "are you going to try and force me?"

Harry's confidence was shaken, but he did not lower his wand. Ron stared wide-eyed at Harry, but after a moment he recovered, pulling out his broken wand as well. "If I have to, sir, I will." He glanced at Ron. "I can't just let Ginny die!"

"Very well," Lockhart said, and began walking around the desk toward Harry.

Harry took a step back and opened his mouth to scream Expelliarmus, but no sound came out. Lockhart jumped on Ron and ripped the wand out of the boys hand, knocking the red head to the floor of the office. Harry continued trying to cast a spell to no avail, and then Lockhart knocked Harry to the ground, starting a brawl that was over almost as soon as it began. Harry lie on his back bleeding from a cut on his cheek, and Lockhart stood back up holding Harry's wand.

"You foolish boys," he laughed, breathing heavily and noticeably sweating, "thought you could force me to do anything? Two second years expect to go into Slytherin's chamber and come out alive!" His lips formed a wry smile. "Although I will admit you're brave. Quite courageous of you to go up against me!"

He snickered. "But, too bad for you, now you're on the other end of the wand. Don't feel so courageous now, do you boys?"

Ron was still on the ground, tears silently streaming down his face, but Harry had gotten to one knee and looked ready to move against his former professor. Lockhart just shook his head.

"Well, maybe you, Harry. Yes, there's something special about you, young man, and I'm sure you'll be great in time. That's why I'm going to let you in on a little secret, and then do you a favor."

Lockhart walked to stand behind Ron, who scuttled around on the floor trying to keep his eyes on the man, and he cleared his throat as if preparing for a big speech.

"As you may well have guessed, I didn't do the things written in my novels. No, no. It would take me another lifetime to do all of those things, and I don't have that kind of time. Instead, I interviewed wizards and witches that had done these things and then I did a nifty little spell--one that I happen to be very good at. Would you like to see it, Mr. Weasley? Mr. Potter?"

The two boys watched their ex-professor horror stricken, and Harry's heart clenched. What is he planning to do?

"It's simple really. You just stand in front of the wizard like so," as he was standing before Ron, "and say Obliviate."

A beam of light hit Ron and his eyes went blank. Harry silently screamed, "Ron!"

Lockhart glanced at Harry. "Now don't distract me Mr. Potter. This is very important." He turned his attention back to the red-head, who was steadily ignoring everything around him. "You do not know what beast is in the chamber. You do not know where the entrance to the chamber is. You never found a note in Hermione Granger's hand. You do not know what happened to Professor Lockhart..."

With each word Harry was feeling more and more sick, and he was struck with a dawning realization that he was going to be hit with the same spell. He tuned out the rest of the professor's statements to Ron, trying and failing to form a plan of escape.

Lockhart nodded to himself. "That will do. And now for you, Harry. I told you I would do you a favor, and I will." He chuckled. "But I think I'll be doing myself a favor as well. Obliviate."

He cleared his throat. "You do not know what beast is in the chamber. You do not know where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is. You never found a note in Hermione Granger's hand. Professor Lockhart tried to help Ginny Weasley while she was in the Chamber of Secrets." His smile grew. "Albus Dumbledore is responsible for Ginny Weasley's death. You want to graduate from Hogwarts no matter what school you are accepted to. You want to become more famous than you already are. You..."

He thought for a minute and then laughed.

"You want to be just like Gilderoy Lockhart..."

He continued for a long time, whispering his great plan for the wizarding world to the focused and attentive young wizard savior, morphing the child into a pawn--the perfect pawn. Below them in the Chamber of Secrets Ginny Weasley went deathly limp, and eventually she passed away, forgotten by the only two boys who had a chance to save her.

 

Parting the Continents

by Big D

Disclaimer: Not Mine. No Profit. No Shit.

AN: Sort of a two-parter, with the sequel to be posted in the Rape-Off thread. I originally decided to adapt “Parting The Continents” for that thread, since people in IRC were bugging me to finish it, and this grew out of that. For the newbs who don’t know who Laurasia is, a quick refresher from way back when I first started this…

(Laurasia is a new character created exclusively for the movie versions of the HP franchise, and who is scheduled to appear in the HBP film. I have no idea what her role is supposed to be, and frankly I don’t really care. I never would have noticed her at all, except for a thread at Dark Lord Potter where a couple of dozen people sat around and cunt-blasted over the fact that the directors were now making up new characters.

Sensing vast lulz potential, and noticing that the actress who plays her (River George) is a nasty little British hottie, I immediately stated my unwavering allegiance to the Harry/Laurasia ship (henceforth known as “Larry”), and decided to write the first Harry/Laurasia smutfic. I’m still not entirely sure how Luna got involved, but I figured what the hell, and left her in.)

For the record, she got cut from the movie. I kinda dig that though. It means she’s all mine.


Harry slipped back into Professor Slughorn’s office, running over in his head what he had just heard while eavesdropping on Snape and Malfoy. This mysterious “plan” of theirs had end-of-year climactic shitstorm written all over it, and it seemed like he was the only one who cared. Hermione had her head shoved firmly in the sand, more worried about the scribbles in the margins of his textbook than what the people who kept trying to kill them every single year were up to. Harry had taken to making his own additions just to freak her out, like a fake spell that turned bookworms into wanton sluts (Babus Maximus) and an old family recipe for House Elf mince pie, made from real house elves.

Ron, on the other hand, had his head (both of them) stuffed so far up Lavender’s twat that he actually missed breakfast twice this week. Harry wished him well, but if local gossip was any indication, Lav’s chamber of not-so-secrets was overflowing with the kind of monsters that made Slytherin’s basilisk seem tame. For shits and giggles, he told Ron that Madam Pomfrey treated the clap with controlled splinching when the other boy mentioned that it burned when he peed.

Coming to a quick decision, Harry nodded to himself, pulled out his little notebook and jotted down a reminder to kill Malfoy at the next convenient opportunity, then circled and underlined it so he wouldn’t forget. He almost included a note that he should make it look like an accident, but then figured that a simple disappearance might actually be less suspicious, given that Draco was now apparently a Death Eater.

‘Cut up and feed corpse to Buckbeak,’ he wrote, then scribbled it out, deciding that a trip to Grimmauld Place would be too much trouble for one little ferret. ‘Feed corpse to house-elves,’ he wrote next, before something even better occurred to him. ‘Feed corpse to Slytherins!!!’

He tucked the notebook away with a satisfied grin and caught a flash of blonde hair coming towards him out of the corner of his eye. He turned to tell Luna that he was leaving, and to find out if she wouldn’t mind sucking him off in a broom closet before he took her back to her dorm, but stopped when he realized that the girl approaching him wasn’t his date, or as far as he could tell, anyone he had ever met before.

She was roughly his age and a tall for a girl, with very light blonde hair, cut just above her neck. Like most of the students there, she was dressed in the muggle fashion, in a black cocktail dress that left her shoulders bare, along with a generous portion of her slender back.

The girl stopped in front of him with a little bounce and flashed a cheerful smile. “Hello, Harry,” she said. “You wanna dance?”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it and frowned in confusion. “I’m sorry, have we met,” he asked carefully.

The girl’s smile faded away and she turned a little green. “I’m Laurasia,” she said, somewhat sheepishly. “I’m in Hufflepuff.” Noting his blank expression, she tried again. “We’ve had classes together for over five years,” she said quietly with a painful look on her face.

Harry shrugged helplessly.

“I was sorted right ahead of you,” she continued, becoming more earnest. “We rode in the same boat as firsties!”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “That’s right! You threw up over the side, didn’t you?!”

Harry wouldn’t have thought that she could deflate anymore, but she managed it anyway, staring at the ground with an embarrassed flush. “Yeah... I’d actually forgotten about that,” she mumbled at her shoes. “Thanks.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “And didn’t you cry when they put the Hat on you?”

Laurasia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Harry took the opportunity to go up on his toes and casually leer down her dress. “Yeah, that was me, too.”

“And didn’t you once switch your arms and legs in Charms? You had to walk upside down for a week until they could fix it!” Harry chuckled in remembrance. “Good times, good times...”

“Yeah...” Laurasia muttered unenthusiastically. “Listen, uh... I’ll just go, okay. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Harry reached out and lightly caught her arm before she could leave. “You’re not bothering me,” he told her.

She smiled again and moved closer, slipping her arm into his. “So you do want to dance?”

He shook his head and made a face. “Not even a little. Actually, I was about to leave. Wanna go somewhere quiet and make out?”

Laurasia blinked in surprise and looked around, her blush returning in full force. “What, right now?”

“No better time. I don’t believe putting off the really important things.”

She sidled up a little closer to him, pressing lightly against his side but not quite making eye contact. Harry muttered a silent thanks for shy but horny fangirls. “Um... I guess so? But didn’t you bring a date,” she asked.

Harry frowned again and looked around. “Yeah, where is she anyway?” He went up on his toes and spotted Luna near the refreshment table talking to Professor Slughorn. Pulling a slightly bewildered Laurasia behind him, he went to find out what she was up to now.

As they approached, he heard Slughorn responding to something Luna had said. “Muggle magic, you say? And how exactly is that supposed to work?”

“Well,” Luna responded with an eager grin. “What you do is take a pencil, just like this,” she produced one from the surprisingly deep neckline of her dress. “And you balance it on the table like so, with the sharp end pointing straight up.” She carefully set the pencil down and glanced back at Slughorn. “Move over here a little, Professor, so you can see it a better...” Slughorn shuffled around the table and leaned down to peer intently at the muggle writing utensil.

“But how do you make it disappear,” he asked curiously.

Harry sighed and reached over, plucking the pencil off the table just as Luna was moving into position to finish the trick. “Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but I really need to be going, and I promised Luna that I’d walk her back to her dorm.”

Luna pouted cutely at him. “But didn’t you tell me that you wanted Professor Slughorn to see this?”

Slughorn piped up. “Certainly, Harry! I’d love to find out what those Muggles try to pass off as magic!”

Harry tried to suppress a laugh and mostly failed. Luckily, Slughorn seemed to take it as good humor rather than dark irony. “Tell you what, Horace. I promise that I’ll personally show you just how it’s done before the term is out. How’s that?”

Slughorn rubbed his chins thoughtfully, sticking his thumb between the folds to root out any excess buildup. He wiped the greenish residue on a handkerchief from his side pocket. “Well, I suppose it can wait.” He seemed to notice Laurasia for the first time. “I’m sorry, my dear. I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Laurasia,” she nearly snapped. “It’s Laurasia! I sit in the front row of your class, Professor!” He stared at her blankly and she gaped at him. “Good god, man, you must know who I am if you invited me here!”

Slughorn shook his head, jowls smacking wetly against each other. “No, I’m certain I’ve never seen you before in my life, my dear.”

Laurasia closed her eyes and cursed under her breath. When she opened them, it was to find Luna standing right in front of her, their bodies nearly touching. She took a step back and the other girl moved with her, leaning over to stare down the front of her dress.

Luna turned to Harry with a grin. “I bet I know what we can make disappear down there,” she said excitedly. “And it’s a lot bigger than a pencil!”

Harry smiled at her fondly and threw an arm over her shoulder. “What am I going to do with you,” he asked as the three of them approached the door.

Luna snuggled against him. “Fuck me raw and spank me until I cry?”

“Only if you stop trying to kill the professors,” he admonished.

“Spoilsport,” she muttered. “You get to have all the fun!”

“You know,” Laurasia said, more than a little freaked out by the way the conversation had turned. “For some reason I suddenly wish I never existed.”

“Oh,” Harry said, reaching an arm around her as well. “Don’t let Luna scare you. She only does this to get attention.”

“Whatever works,” Luna murmured, then narrowed her eyes as Professor Snape swept around the far corner and began walking towards them, a disgusted look sliding across his pinched, sallow face.

“I see that some things truly never change,” the man growled. “Your father was a lecherous parasite and an abuser of women, Potter, and it’s clear that his blood runs strong in you.”

Laurasia meekly slipped out from under Harry’s arm and stared at the floor as the Slytherin Head glared at her. Luna merely laid her head on Harry’s shoulder and watched the taller man without blinking.

Harry let out a deep sigh. “Listen, Snape. I just spent several hours mingling with a group of people that I wouldn’t piss on if they were on fire, and these shoes are making my feet hurt. Can we just skip ahead to the part where you call me a disgrace, and then scurry off to your room so you can spend the rest of the night humping your sheets and thinking about my mother?”

Laurasia stared at him in shock, and Snape actually lunged forward to grab him by the lapels. “How dare you speak to me like that!” he hissed into Harry’s face. “You have absolutely no idea how much I’ve sacrificed to keep you safe, all in her name! You truly are a disgrace, Potter. A disgrace to her memory and to all the fools who’ve convinced themselves that you’re anything more than an idiot child living off a string of good luck!”

Harry put his hands on Snape’s chest and shoved him back on his heels. For a moment, he considered drawing his wand and killing the man where he stood, but after a few seconds the tension drained out of him and he calmly straightened his robes. He glanced at Luna, who had taken a step back and placed herself just outside of Snape’s peripheral vision, one hand subtlety grasping her wand.

“Yes,” Harry told her mater-of-factly.

A slight frown marred her face as she looked at him in confusion. “Yes?”

Harry nodded at her. “Yes.”

Luna’s frown was replaced by a sudden look of childlike delight and surprise. “Really,” she squealed.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he assured her, then stepped back several paces, drawing Laurasia with him so that she ended up pressed against him, her back to his front. Harry slipped his arms across the other girl’s stomach, rested his chin on her shoulder, and whispered into her ear. “If you’re squeamish, you might want to close your eyes now.”

Snape drew himself up again, shaking with rage as he glared burning holes at Harry, who simply gave him a tight-lipped, knowing smile from behind a few loose strands of the Hufflepuff girl’s fine blonde hair, then directed his attention towards Luna, who had fixed an unmoving stare of her own on Snape. The slender Ravenclaw was gulping in air like she was hyperventilating, stretching the fabric of her already snug white dress taut against her body. Her fingers were opening and closing, claw-like, and Laurasia realized with a shock that Luna’s dress wasn’t tighter because of the way she was breathing, it was due to the fact that she had grown a full six inches, and was now nearly as tall as Snape himself.

She felt Harry smile fondly against her cheek. “It takes her a few seconds to warm up, but the wait is worth it.” His hand slid along the underside of her left breast, above her dress, and Laurasia could feel him stiffening where he was pressed against her backside, but she was too absorbed in the spectacle unfolding before her to pay it much mind. A distant part of her mind was telling her that something was very wrong and she should get away from here as fast as she could, but it was getting harder to focus as the seconds ticked by. The idea that Harry might have put her under some kind of befuddlement spell when she was distracted was immediately dismissed. Harry Potter wouldn’t do anything like that.

He was one of the good guys, wasn‘t he?

Her brief introspection was ended by the sound of Snape‘s growling, but clearly worried voice. “Whatever it is your little girlfriend is doing, make her stop,” the professor said, drawing his wand. “Before I do.”

Harry hissed something barely audible, aiming his wand from behind Laurasia’s waist with his free hand. Snape spun around to deflect the Disarming Spell in time, but in doing so left his flank open to attack. In a blink, Luna had finished “warming up”, as Harry had called it, and shifted into a gigantic mass of pure white fur that nearly filled the corridor, tearing her clothes to shreds as she did. Letting out a roar that would have been heard in Hogsmeade if not for the Silencing Spell Harry had already placed on the area, the polar bear animagus pounced on Snape, dragging him to the ground and biting viciously into his skull. Luna shook her great snout like a pitbull, and Snape’s death howls were cut off almost before they had a chance to begin.

The Slytherin Head’s feet were still kicking when Luna planted a massive paw on his chest, and with one heave of her thousand pound frame, tore his head completely off his shoulders. She turned around, still chewing, then tilted her head back and swallowed it in one huge gulp. Luna licked her chops clean, stretched, and shifted back to her human form, much quicker than she had gone the other way. Completely nude, she let out a loud belch, then giggled like she had broken some silly rule and ran over to give Harry a hug, heedless of Laurasia being sandwiched between them. Luna kissed Harry over her shoulder, then brushed a second kiss across Laurasia’s unresponsive lips, pressing herself even more suggestively against the other girl.

Horror finally broke whatever spell, be it magical or just shock, that had been holding her in place and she tore herself out from between them, stumbling over her own feet and landing against the far wall. Not knowing what else to do, she huddled there, staring fearfully up at the pair.

Harry and Luna hardly seemed to notice. The still naked Ravenclaw merely slipped under Harry’s arm again, while he placed his hand on her bare belly and frowned.

“I wonder where it all goes,” he mused, caressing Luna’s trim waist, which clearly wasn’t up to the task of holding an entire human head.

“You shouldn’t ask,” Luna replied seriously, “You’ll kill the suspension of disbelief. Just say it’s magic and move on.”

“What have you done,” a shrill voice cried out, cutting off Harry‘s response. He glanced down at Laurasia, but she was still more or less catatonic. Frowning, he looked over his shoulder and spotted Malfoy standing about twenty feet away, a panicked expression on his face as he looked between them and the corpse of, not only his Godfather, but the man who had sworn the Unbreakable Vow to aid him in his current task or die trying.

Harry and Luna glanced at each other for a brief second, then turned back to Malfoy and said in perfect unison, “He tripped and fell… I swear.”

Draco didn’t say a word in response. He simply turned around and began sprinting back towards the Slug Club party, which was the only group of people in this wing of the castle. Luna calmly extracted herself from Harry and went to rummage through the shredded remnants of her clothing, looking for her wand, while Harry cast a Tripping Hex at the fleeing Slytherin and summoned him back to them by his shoes, sliding on his belly. Kneeling down, Harry put a knee into the small of Draco’s spine, then bent him backwards with one arm wrapped around his neck. Malfoy finally went for his wand, but Luna disarmed him before he had a chance to bring it to bear.

“To be perfectly honest,” Harry hissed into Draco’s ear while he struggled and sputtered for breath. “I don’t really care what you and old Snivellus there were plotting together. I’m just tired of looking at you.” With that, Harry reversed his wand and shoved it in Malfoy’s mouth, all the way down into his windpipe.

“Aguamenti!”

The torrent of conjured water flooded Malfoy’s lungs in seconds, and Harry immediately followed up with a second curse, which froze it solid. Shoving Malfoy face down to the stone floor, Harry stood up and serenely brushed himself off, watching as Draco beat frantically at his own chest and began to turn blue, both from the cold and the lack of oxygen. He flopped on the ground like a hooked fish, trying to breathe, trying to scream, trying to think of a way to save his own miserable life. He flipped onto his back and held out a beseeching hand to Harry, who had already dismissed him from his mind and set about cleaning up the corridor before anyone else came along.

Draco turned to Laurasia, tears streaming from his bloodshot eyes, and begged her silently to help him. A simple dispelling charm would be enough to save him, since it would vanish the conjured water in his lungs, but she was too horrified to think straight. When Harry reached down and took her by the arm, she went to him willingly, burying her face in his shoulder, never mind the fact that he was the one who kept killing people and freaking her out. Draco stared at her, a dumfounded expression on his now-purple face, at which Harry merely smiled.

“I’ll let you off with a warning this time if you say that you’re sorry,” he told Draco.

Draco gave it a shot, frozen lungs and all, but passed out three tries in, and finally died a few seconds later. Harry flicked his wand, transfiguring it into a party hat, which he summoned to himself and placed on Laurasia’s head while she sobbed into his chest. Luna came skipping along a few moments later, still not having bothered to conjure new clothing, twirling a bright pink dildo that used to be the Hogwarts’ Defense instructor’s corpse.

Harry took one look at it and shook his head. “I told you I don’t go for that kind of thing, Luna.”

She shrugged. “I thought we could sneak it into the Headmaster’s room. Apparently he goes for that kind of thing, and I think Snape would feel right at home.”

Harry flinched at the mental image, but enjoyed the idea immensely. “Are we forgetting anything,” he asked her.

“Ron,” she replied instantly.

Harry shook his head. “Not until the Christmas hols. Gotta have something to look forward to.”

Luna pouted. “Ginny,” she pleaded, bouncing on her toes.

“No, I promised the twins they could kill her.”

She deflated again. “Fine then. But I call dibs on McGonagall.”

He leaned down and kissed her again. “You got it.” He slipped off his watch and muttered an incantation over it. “Grab on.”

The three of them and their cargo disappeared as Harry whispered the activation phrase.

“Mischief managed.”


AN: The sequel will probably end up in the Rape-Off thread, with Harry and Luna doing terrible things to poor Laurasia. I plan to start on it tomorrow, but you know how my plans usually work out.

 

God dammit I love you Big D.

 

Joker!Luna- the icing on the cake.

 

A short death-by-cliché for Ginny.

###​

“Damn!” Harry swore under his breath.

“What’s wrong, dear,” his redheaded wife asked, dropping the dough she was working to the counter in a cloud of white. Though magic could knead, Ginny preferred using her hands. Not only did it make for tender pastry crust, but is also left opportunities for the corpulent woman to lick butter from her pudgy fingers—buttery fingers dipped in brown sugar and cinnamon, no less.

Harry looked over at the blobby woman and wished again that he’d taken up with Cho after the war. Though ditzy, Cho was an exotic dancer and damned hot, as required for her profession. The occasional shags he’d had with Hermione, his best mate’s wife, just weren’t enough to sustain a man whose libido, like his magical prowess, had skyrocketed after the final battle.

Scaling Mount Ginny, with her sour, fat-lady stink, was just not an option.

“Forgot to tell Ron to bring his own damned Firewhiskey. Bastard’s going to clean out the wet bar again.”

“Language, dear,” she said, putting a hand on her ample belly. “We wouldn’t want little Mollily’s ears to hear.”

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten through clenched teeth. His wife wasn’t pregnant, thankfully, yet she was fixated on that stupid name, a combination of "Molly" and "Lily."

“Just send him a Patronus message,” she said.

“Good idea.” Harry drew his holly and phoenix feather wand and concentrated on his happiest recent memory, the lapdance Cho had given him, gratis, for his birthday. He heard a whoosh and opened his eyes to see a massive, golden stag leave the end of his wand. Unlike a normal Patronus, this Prongs was not only corporeal, but also solid. It clopped across the floor, leaving faint divots in the wood, and then lowered its massive, 14-point crown and charged.

Ginny screamed as the magical construct slammed into her body and buried its antlers into her flesh. The sound ended in a wet crunch as she slammed into the kitchen wall, her back broken and her skull crushed. The Patronus wriggled its head free and turned toward Harry with a penitent look.

“Bad Prongs, bad,” Harry said, feeling horrified and a little elated. “Though she did make me relive my worst moments, Ginny wasn’t a Dementor.”

The Patronus nodded, then leaped through the window, which shattered on impact, and bounded across the adjoining meadow to deliver its important message.

Harry took a look at his wife's lifeless body and wondered whether it was too late to hire Cho for a private party.

 

Short death for Ginny.
-------

Ginny sighed as she waited at the edge of the forbidden forest. She had gotten a note from Katie Bell that Katie had gotten from Harry. He wanted to meet her at the edge of the forest. She could only think of all the things he would say to her. He would come out riding a gleaming white unicorn with tight leather pants and a half buttoned white dress shirt. They would marry and have 7 kids. Five boys named after her dad and oldest brothers and then two girls named after her and her mother. then they would live happily for years after. Best of all she didnt even have to give him any love potion.
-------

Lupin ran out of the castle towards the forbidden forest. He had come to Hogwarts to use the forest for his yearly change without any potion. Which happened to be at the same time as mating season for the werewolf. He transformed as ran towards the forest and howled to the moon. His enhanced nose smelt a young female and he ran towards her his mind in a daze.
-------

Ginny closed her eyes to help envision her perfect fantasy. Which now included her killing all of the death eaters and and Harry bowing to her seeing her as a queen. She then heard sniffing and knew that the perfume, that she also got from Katie, must have work and she waited for Harry to ravish her.
-------

Lupin smelled the maiden and went in a rage that scent was one of a person trying to be the alpha that was his position and no one would take it. He then started to tear apart the girl tearing her flesh from her bones and making sure to do it painfully. He looked at his work and did the closet thing a werewolf could do to a smile and howled once more. He then ran off into the night to lick his balls and get off to him killing a challenger to his position.
-------

Harry disabled his charms made to hide from a werewolf and looked at Lupins work. He wished he could call this his idea but he couldnt. Katie had come up with it after she got fed up with the slag following them when they tried to have private time. He looked at it once more even taking a picture to give to Katie. He then turned and went back to the castle a happy man.

 

I assume this is code for a golden shower?

 

Probably a Golden Patronus.

 

No, really?

 

Ya, really.

 

CHO RLY.