Gun Mage

Here you go, one big one shot that doesn't include OCs, alternate universes or just plain stupidness. All characters are from canon, just with some major changes. How did I get this idea? I'll be quite frank. I was originally going to write an OC squib whose only magical power was replenishing charms. Useless, or was it?! Apply a Replenishing charm to a gun and whammo, unlimited ammo! However, I decided to be realistic for once. So I made this!

Some of my readers have probably wondered where the hell I've been. Well, suffice to say, I've still been writing, but not Harry Potter. I've actually been doing quite a lot of orginal stories, trying my hand out at creating something original. And would you believe it, I wrote 22 books! Incredible, huh? Anyways, I figured it was time to see if I still had the magic, so to speak, and wrote this little gem up. Enjoy, and like always, if you want to adpot one of my one-shots, just tell me so, and I'll be happy to let you.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything here that is recognized as JK Rowling's stuff, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, etc and I make no money off of this. If Ms. Rowling would like to give me money, then I wouldn't mind.

Oh yeah, if any times or dates seem off, well, live with it I guess. I can't be wicked accurate to a tee. As for Petunia and Dudley, well, if Harry's mom can be smoking effing hot and have a bitchy sister who isn't, then a smoking hot Lily with a nice Petunia means she can be attractive. And if Petunia is attractive, that means Dudley can be too.

A four year old Harry Potter was currently standing by the kitchen table, his lightning bolt scar just barely visible at counter height. A his feet lay a juice pitcher, its orange contents splashed all over the floor. His uncle and aunt were giving him venomous glares.

"Do you know what you just did, boy?" Vernon asked quietly.

"I - I speewed the juice," Harry said in fear.

"Not just any juice," Petunia hissed, picking up the pitcher. "Freshly squeezed orange juice from twenty oranges! Do you know how much money you've wasted?!"

"I'm sowwy!" Harry cried, covering his head. "I won' do it again!"

"That's not good enough!" Vernon bellowed, grabbing the pitcher and shoving it into Harry's hand. "How're you going to replace our breakfast drink now? We've no more oranges boy!"

Harry thought desperately. "I'll refill!" he pleaded. "I'll refill!"

The jug went heavy and everyone went quiet. Harry looked down and noticed that the pitcher was now full of... orange juice?

Confuzzled, Vernon took it from the boy and poured himself a glass. Lifting it to his lips despite Petunia's fearful warnings, he took a swig. He sloshed it around a bit. Let it run over his tongue thoroughly. Swallowed.

He turned an inquisitive eye towards his wife. "Freshly squeezed orange juice," he said.

They both stared at the little boy in front of him. Petunia glanced at the jug of milk that was also on the table. It was half full. Or was it half empty? Anyways, she gave it to Harry. "Fill this," she ordered curiously.

Harry didn't know how, but his desire to please his relatives filled his mind and with a quiet slosh, the level of milk in the jug rose to the brim. His aunt squealed in delight, something he had never seen her do.

"Imagine, Vernon, the money we'll save on things like this!" she told her husband joyously, setting the jug on the table after filling a glass. She gave it to Harry. "Drink it, good boy."

"While it is... strange," Vernon mused, "You really can't outweigh the pros of it! Very well then Harry, I expect you to practice your - talent - as much as possible! Do you understand, m'boy?"

Harry beamed up at his aunt and uncle, who were smiling at him for the first time in his life. "Yes uncle Vernon, I'll twy hard!" he said enthusiastically.

"But you mustn't tell anyone else!" Petunia warned. "Or else they might want you to do it for them! Not all people out in the world are nice people Harry, you would do well to remember that!"

"Yes aunt Petunia, I will!" Harry said determinedly.

The rest of the day was spent with his relatives, seeing what else he could do with his powers.

Three years later...

"Harry, son, could you give me a hand in the garage?" Vernon called from downstairs.

Harry set down his coursebook and peeked his head out of the third bedroom. "Coming uncle Vernon!" he answered. He passed by his cousin Dudley's room on the way. "Hey Duds."

"Yo Harry," his lean cousin waved, before going back to his homework. "Can you help me with my Geography after?"

"Sure thing!"

Harry went into the garage, where Vernon was tinkering on his car, a Honda Accord saloon. Sedan, for you yanks. His uncle's head was underneath the opened bonnet. "What's up, uncle Vernon?" Harry asked, peeping into the engine bay. "Do you need me to refill the motor oil again?"

"Oh no, that should be fine for a few thousand more miles," his uncle replied. "I was more worried about... this!"

With some fiddling, Vernon brought out a piece of the engine, the camshaft, to be precise. "I haven't the foggiest idea how, but the ruddy things chewed themselves out!" he grumbled. "Useless Japs, the lot of them! Good for fuel economy, and nothing else!"

He gave Harry the cam from the SOHC engine. "Think you could make a replacement?" he asked hopefully. "I called the dealer today. The mechanic said that a camshaft like this would cost a hundred twenty pounds! I just started working at Grunnings, I can't afford something like that right now!"

Harry looked at the metal rod curiously. "I don't know uncle Vernon, I've never tried something like this before," he mused. "I'm very good at using my gift to refill liquids and even most foods, but metal is new territory for me. I'll give it a go, however."

Vernon looked pleased. "Right, just remember what we learned," he coached Harry, much like a football (of the kicking kind) coach would. "TSC: Trace, Scan, Create!"

Harry took in every bit of the camshaft into his mind, his pefect vision not missing even a minute detail. Taking a deep breath, he clutched the cam in his right hand and balled up his left. A moment later, his left hand stretched out as a lump of pulsating steel grew out from it, forming a nearly perfect copy of a new camshaft. Vernon whooped with joy.

"You've done it my boy!" Vernon cried jubiantly, taking the new camshaft from his grinning nephew. "Would you look at that!" he added, inspecting the piece of metal. "I have half a mind to send this over to those industrious little fellows in Japan! That would teach them a thing or two about quality!"

He showed Harry how to fit the cam into the engine, and they put everything back together. Getting into the car, Vernon started the engine and whooped for joy as it purred to life flawlessly. He shut it off and strode over to his nephew, his muscled arms bringing him to a hug. "Thank you son."

"No problem uncle Vernon," Harry smiled, heading for the door. "Me and Dudley are gonna work on our Geography now, okay?"

"When you're finished, I'll take you both out for some ice cream," Vernon said proudly.

(AN: Since the Dursleys aren't really ugly and overweight anymore, I've imagined in my mind that Vernon now represents Jeremy Clarkson, the funniest man I have ever seen in my life, Petunia (and Lily I suppose) like Amy Adams and Dudley looking like Zac Effron for some strange reason. Must be all the trashy OK! magazines my sister leaves around. Anywho, onwards!)

One year later...

"Would you look at that," Petunia said quietly, as the family of four sat down to watch the telly that evening. "It's getting even worse now!"

The unknown terrorst attacks in the UK were brutal. It had escalted to unseen proportions, and many, many people were dying day by day. Harry felt his beautiful aunt pull him and his cousin closer to her.

Vernon looked grim. "I heard that terrorists are getting into the country," he said gruffly. "By way of the channel. Mark my words, there'll be an attack."

And there was. Terrorists had bombed a Christian church in London, killing dozens, including the clergymen. Smaller attacks had sounded, scaring the people of Britain out of their minds. People seemingly dissapearing, only to come up later dead, with no wounds or signs of drugging. They were just dead. Some had even lost their minds. Vernon had decided to take a day off of work at Grunnings to stay home and console his family. It was a lucky thing he did, for his department at the company had looked like it had been torn apart by a huge monster. Luckily, no one was harmed seriously.

In a bid to protect his wife and two sons, Vernon decided that home protection would be in order. His father and grandfather, and their fathers before them had served their country in the military, and Vernon was a stout hunter, with all necessary licences for firearms. So, he decided to purchase a few. He came home one day after shopping in London, several large packages in his arms. He laid them out on the table.

"With the threat of these Unknown terrorists, I took it upon myself to give us some security, and peace of mind," Vernon said, gesturing to the boxes. "Now Pet, you may not agree with me, but other than the alarm system and motion sensors on the lawn, this is the best I can think of."

"Oh Vernon, I know you do the right thing," Petunia said with a pat on his arm and a kiss on the cheek. Vernon nodded grimly and opened the first box with a flourish.

Harry and Dudley understandly went "Oooooh!"

(AN: As far as I know through research, the gun ban in the UK was enacted in 1997... So I hope I'm still in the good.)

It was a hunting rifle, a Benelli over-under .45 caliber. It opened much like a revolver did, and two .45 bullets could be pressed into the chambers. It featured a lever-action cocking system.

The next box held a Remington model 870 full length shotgun. It took twelve gauge shotshells and could load five shotshells into its tube, the limit for Britain. It had a fullstock and looked elegant, if a gun could.

The smaller boxes held pistols of varying types. One was a Beretta M92FS, a standard pistol in 9mm caliber. I had the government restricted ten round magazine, as well as some spares.

The next pistol was one Vernon had always wanted to get, a Colt 1911. It was many army's standard sidearm, and very reliable. The fact that it used .45 caliber bullets and its seven round magazine was within the restriction didn't hurt either. This particular model had wooden inlays on the grips. It was a genmetal color, a replica of the ones used in WWII.

The last pistol was a standard Glock 17 9mm pistol. It was understandably plain compared to the other guns, but it was perhaps one of the most reliable.

Harry wondered where his uncle got all these weapons, and the money to purchase them with as well. In fact, everyone was. They all kind of... looked at Vernon.

"Right," he said, flustered. "Well you know Jenkins from work, that dodgy fellow? I had a word with him and found a bloke who did deals on the side..."

"You went to the black market?!" Petunia screeched.

"Come now Pet, I couldn't very well go to a licenced dealer!" Vernon argued. "The most I would be able to get would be a hunting rifle, and what good is that?"

As they bickered with eachother, Dudley and Harry were checking out the guns. They were wise enough not to touch them, but Harry went into one of the bags, pulling out a box of bullets. Opening it, he fingered the brass cylinder in his hand.

"Trace," he whispered, closing his eyes. Images came into his mind.

The cartridge was made out of thin brass. Inside it was a powdered composition, the gunpowder. The primer was some sort of plastic-like material, but reactive. The bullet itself was solid steel.

"Scan."

Due to the simple materials of the bullet, it would be ridiculously easy to recreate one, without taxing his powers in the slightest. The fact that it was fairly small helped as well. It was exactly 9mm in diamter and 19mm in length.

Harry smiled as he closed his left fist. "Create."

His hand filled up with cold metal objects and Harry opened his fist, letting a small cascade of bullets fall softly onto the wrapping papers of the boxes, drawing everyone's attention. He stopped after what seemed like a hundred bullets came out of thin air above his palm.

"Wow, that's wicked!" Dudley cheered, slapping Harry on the shoulder. "I've never seen you do so much!"

Vernon beamed at his nephew. "Good on being one step ahead of me boy," he smiled. "However, since you're powers keep growing, I was wondering if you were up to the task of performing something a little tougher?"

"Name it!" Harry said eagerly. Over the years he had been able to do much more than recreate simple liquids and foods, he could also make complete copies of nearly anything smaller than a dog.

Vernon began pressing bullets into the Beretta magazine until all ten rounds were in the magazine. He gave it to Harry. "Do you think you could use your gift to make it so that this will never run out of bullets?" he asked.

Harry was undaunted. A task like this would be difficult, but with enough will, he could probably do it. "I'm confident that I can," he said boldly, taking the magazine.

Holding it in two hands, Harry focused, his surroundings melting away. "Trace, Scan," he whispered.

The method of doing this would be hard. He needed to somehow make the magazine itself the catalyst for recreation, not himself. To do that, he would have to 'imprint' his copying abilities into it. But how? And how would he do it so that the magazine itself wouldn't replicate, but the bullets inside it instead? Tricky, very tricky, but very fun.

Harry focused on pushing his ability into the magazine, which was floating in his hands as if it were in complete X-Ray view. He could see inside it, through it and everything it was. He imprinted his power, a small bit of it on the halfway point, between the fifth and sixth bullets. He made it so that the power would affect the bullets, not the magazine. Pushing some more power in, Harry sealed it and the magazine dropped into his hands, where it had been floating a few inches above earlier. He opened his eyes and looked up at everyone, who were waiting with abated breath.

"I think I did it!" he said excitedly.

"Amazing!" Vernon cheered, trading hugging time with Petunia and Dudley. "We'll have to go somewhere quiet to test it out, but by Jove, if it works we'll never have to worry about reloading or terrorists again!"

Harry and Vernon did test out the Beretta later that week, and were pleased with it. While Harry couldn't give the magazine everlasting bullets without draining himself to death, the gun's slide finally locked back empty after over two hundred shots! Needless to say, all other guns were soon filled up.

A year after that...

Vernon woke up. Something was niggling at him in his sleep, and he sat up in bed warily. Petunia was still asleep next to him. What had made him so edgy? He checked the monitor of the houses' alarm system. The motion sensors had been tipped! He reached into the cabinet beside the bed and pulled out the shotgun. He crouched near the window and peeked out. Several men in black cloaks were standing outside, pointing up at the house. Padding out of his room carefully, with a newly awaked wife behind him, Vernon headed to Harry's room, while Petunia woke up Dudley.

"Harry, wake up!" Vernon hissed, the light sleeper that was his nephew doing so immediately. "There are suspicious men outside! Get your gun!"

Against Petunia's best interests, Vernon had taken it upon himself to teach Harry and Dudley how to shoot. Afterall, he couldn't protect his family by himself, could he?

Harry nodded silently, and Vernon was still amazed by it. Even after two years of learning how to shoot guns, the eerie calmness of his nephew still unnerved the man. Harry reached into his desk and pulled out the Colt 1911. For some reason, the big caliber gun was Harry's favorite. Dudley and Petunia snuck in afterwards, the other boy carrying both the Beretta and Glock. Petunia nervously held onto the rifle, in case one of her men needed it.

"Okay, we're going to head downstairs as quietly as possible," Vernon told his family. "Keep an eye on where you step! Next, we're -"

Whatever he was going to say was interupted by a huge explosion from the floor below. Petunia squeaked in fear and Vernon racked the pump on his shotgun, releasing the safety. His boys did the same. Barging out of Harry's room, Vernon greeted the first home invader with magically-enchanced buckshot, sending the man flying down the stairs he had stormed up on. Honestly, what kind of terrorist wears a silly skull mask?

His boys came out mere seconds later, guns at the ready. One of the men in black pointed some sort of stick at Vernon, and shouted, "Crucio!"

Vernon felt terrible agony ripping through his nerves, and dropped the shotgun as he fell to the floor, screaming in sheer pain. The man laughed as he shot another red lance of light from his stick at Vernon, making him cry out in pain again.

A gunshot made the attacker's head snap back, and he slowly fell onto his back down the stairs. Harry stood at the side of the stairs, the barrel of his Colt smoking and his eyes sparkling with unhidden rage. Dudley was even less merciful, as the ten year old pointed both of his guns at the black figures downstairs and fired rapidly at them, their screams mingling with his own. Petunia helped Vernon to his feet and the Dursley man grabbed his shotgun with a mad glare, racking it. He stepped in front of the boys, who stopped firing. Blasting at the cloaked men, he started hollering.

"Cast some sort of spell on me?!" he shouted, letting another blast out and scattering the attackers. "Attack my family?!" the recoil of the powerful weapon did nothing to the man. "BREAK INTO MY HOUSE?!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry felt some sort of sickening deja vu as the green bolt of light flashed past his uncle, missing him but slamming into aunt Petunia. She dropped to the floor, her eyes open wide and unmoving.

"PETUNIA!" Vernon screamed in anguish, throwing himself downstairs and causing all hell to break loose. Gunshots and wierd words were traded, and flashes of lights filled the main floor. Dudley and Harry ran up to Petunia.

"She's dead!" Dudley sobbed, clutching his mother. "They killed mum!"

"Well, we'll just have to kill them then," Harry said, his eyes taking on a glint. His cousin's blue eyes turned crystal as he nodded.

They ran downstairs to see Vernon get taken down by a purple flame that sliced him down the torso, a spray of blood erupting from his chest. Both Harry and Dudley watched in horror as their father (figure) fell slowly, facing them as he did.

"B - boysssss," he breathed, hitting the ground and closing his eyes. "Cup... board... Letter..."

Harry blinked twice before raising his gun, the first shot shattering one of the attackers' masks and jaw. "Time to die you monsters!" he screamed, as he and Dudley opened fire, killing the last four men before they could do anything.

They stood there afterwards, not knowing what to do next. Dudley noticed something.

"Where are the bobbies?!" he demanded. "It's been over fifteen minutes of explosions! Why aren't they here?!"

"I don't know," Harry said, walking out the front door. "Maybe there are more terrorist attacks?"

He turned around to see Dudley at the door as he stood on the lawn. His cousin's mouth was moving, but no sound came from it. "What? I can't hear you... of course!" Harry yelled, running back into the house.

"Those guys, they did something so that no one could hear what was going on inside!" he told Dudley.

"Are you sure?" Dudley asked. Harry pushed him to the door.

"Go out and see if you can hear me!"

He did and was shocked when Harry couldn't be heard, despite his obvious yelling. Dudley ran back in.

"Bloody hell Harry, d'you think those guys have magic like you?" Dudley asked, his shaking hands clutching his pistols nervously. "But a different kind?"

"Uncle Vernon said something about a letter in the cupboard," Harry remembered. "Let's go see if it explains anything!"

"Can - can we go put mum and dad somewhere safe?" Dudley asked timidly. Harry stopped on his quest to the cupboard under the stairs.

"Yeah, let's do that," he said quietly.

Seven years later...

Sixteen year olds Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley - also known as Bolt and Prime - were currently stalking down the streets of downtown London, sending many a person out of their way with their displeased looks. The years had been good to both boys. Both were healthy, well-muscled and attractive to a fault. Both were wearing expensive clothing, suits if you must know, from Prada. Harry had his black hair long and in a ponytail that reached the middle of his back, his shoulder-length bangs parted at the front to rest at the sides of his head. Dudley had shorter blonde hair, a few inches long and spiked up and back, looking windswept. It took a lot of hair glue to do that.

Harry was lean and cut, while Dudley was large and ripped. Both had more than one scar on their bodies (Harry had concealer on a certain one). Both had more than one gun on their bodies. Both were on the hunt. For whom, they knew only by the letter that Harry kept on his person at all times.

The letter that told him he was a wizard.

A wizard, amongst other things. That explained his uncanny ability to produce copies of virtually anything. Including money. One twenty pound note turned into thousands, and with Harry fine-tuning his skills, no serial number was ever the same. All authenticity checks (especially after they used their first hundred pound note) passed. They were as rich as they wanted to be. And money could buy anything. Like new guns.

After the invasion of their home, many strange people in red robes came to the boys' home. Luckily, this was after they had read the short letter in the cupboard, which gave a highly intelligent pair of boys precious time to think. The people were called Aurors, magical police. The men who had attacked them were called Death Eaters, followers of the man who killed Harry's parents and tried to kill him.

A long, overdrawn story told by a portly man wearing a bowling hat (Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic of magical Britain) put the boys up to date. After the cleanup and sincerest apologies (they really weren't) the wizards all left, telling the boys that muggle law enforcement would come to pick up the pieces, and that Harry and Dudley would be taken away the next morning to be placed somewhere safe.

That did not sit well with the boys. Wizards just killed their family, again so it seemed and they were supposed to trust more wizards?

Once the muggle (non-magical to the boys) bobbies came, they listened to everything the boys had to say, took the bodies of their parents and arranged for Child Services to pick them up in half an hour.

Again, that did not sit well. All guns had been confiscated (due to them being illegally owned by Vernon, but the police didn't care, since he was dead anyways) so the boys had to think fast.

They were gone in fifteen minutes. Harry grabbed supplies while Dudley took all the cash in the house and sentimental things. They booked it, sneaking through backyards and parks before stopping in a nearby forest. Harry used his magic to make legitimate enough copies of twenty pound notes and they found a nearby payphone and called a taxi. An hour later and they were in London.

The next few years flew by quickly. They had been caught by non-magicals, of course, and both boys put up a spectacular fight about being put in a home. Strangely, no magical people came for them. It appeared that they didn't care as much. Harry and Dudley were settled with Aunt Marge, a horrible woman. After stealing some papers from her office, Dudley got Harry to copy the woman's signature with his ability and they forged emancipation papers. When Marge found out, she didn't care at all. She was glad to be rid of the 'demon children' as they were called.

Some hidden camera work and one shocked jury later, the cousins were emancipated. Vernon had saved up a decent amount of money over the years and left it to his family, them, now. The boys, while young, hired an accountant and managed to get a nice flat in London, Oxfordshire to be exact. It was a modest three bedroom flat with everything they might need, and decent rent as well. They had been assigned a caseworker to make sure the two ten year olds were fine.

When Harry turned eleven a month after Dudley, a letter came to him via an owl. It was inviting him to a wizarding school of all things! Needless to say, the deep-rooted trust issues the boys had for wizards hadn't been upended, so Harry wrote back telling them he would prefer private study instead. They kept the letter about school supplies, and hired a magical guide (not all wizards were bad they supposed) and got into Diagon Alley, where they bought as much things as they could after converting money at the Gringotts bank. Harry also found out that he had a bank account there, a big one too.

A few years passed, with both boys learning as much as they could. Dudley wasn't magical, but he could do Potions just fine, and was quite good at them. Harry excelled at everything he did, using his method of Trace, Scan and Create to apply towards the shcoolwork.

It wasn't until they were thirteen when they were attacked by a fat mousy man who tried to kill Harry on the streets. They managed to be saved by other pedestrians, but the boys were shaken. The man acted as if he knew who Harry was, and escaped before he could be apprehended. The boys then vowed to keep themselves protected.

They found the same shady gun launderer their father bought from, and purchased a small amoury with their copied pound notes. They even got the man to make them custom pistols, since the boys favored small, concealable weapons the most.

Dudley received custom Beretta 93Rs. The pistols were capable of three-round-burst fire and used illegal twenty round magazines. Each had custom muzzle brakes, titanium slides and ivory grips. Since Harry had progressed in magical power thanks to his home-schooling, the charmed magazines could last for 500-600 rounds.

Harry himself chose pistols similar to his old Colt 1911. Two satin white STI Executives were based on the 1911, but aptly named 2011s. They featured satin white polished slides, chrome barrels, chambers, and frames, and white polymer grips with chrome magwells. Even the accessories such as the hammer, trigger, safety, slide release, etc were chrome. The guns used modular thirteen round high capacity magazines, and were chambered in custom .45 Infinity rounds. Of course, with Harry's help, they actually held up to 400 bullets.

Of course, there were the typical shotguns, hunting rifles, sniper rifles, assault rifles and the occasional light machine gun when they could get their hands on it. Their gun launderer, Chet, liked their business very much. The spare bedroom in the flat (which was also the biggest one) held all their toys, and was kept secure with many spells and some weak wards. Their basement held exercise equipment.

A few times the boys had run into magical people, the most notable being Minister Fudge, and Albus Dumbledore. The former usually left the cousins in a bitch fit. When it was announced that Harry Potter wouldn't be going to Hogwarts, the minister had tried to convince the boys to go, apparating into their flat like he was an old friend. Bad idea for wizard-wary kids like them. After he was unbound and had a healer take care of his wounds, Fudge left to get Dumbledore to try to convince Harry.

While not successful, Dumbledore fully respected Harry's decision to stay out of the wizarding world. After all, it was his plan to keep Harry out of the limelight, so to speak. Dumbledore left Harry with pamphlets on home tutors and correspondance, and left with an open invitation to Hogwarts, any time.

Now, being young kids with quite a bit of usable power in the future, who also didn't have a lot of money due to Vernon's saving being used for his and Petunia's funeral, and the cousins' new flat, the boys needed income. Money couldn't just keep appearing out of nowhere. And they could only use Harry's trust fund at Gringotts if he was going to Hogwarts, so that was out of the question as well. They released their accountant from their services and decided on what they could do. It took a lot of work and raised eyebrows, but with the help of a man named Alastor Moody, the talented young Death Eater annihilators were given jobs as anonymous Dark Wizard Catchers. Alastor's recommendations went far in the ministry of magic. This new job helped the young'ns go many places in the world, literally. America, Europe and Asia, which they loved.

They were fifteen when they made their first big bust. They had just happened to be patrolling this area in a dingy little town called Little Hangleton when screams and bright lights came from a nearby cemetary behind an abandoned house. Guns at the ready, the two cousins who were pretty much brothers now jumped into the fray, firing hot, searing justice at what they recognized as Death Eaters. There was a boy tied up to a gravestone, and he was pretty much half-dead when the two arrived.

Harry found himself face to face with Voldemort for the first time. His scar burned, and he almost fell, had it not been for Dudley, who decided that Voldemort needed a facelift, and helped it out with it by putting twin bursts of fire from his Berettas into it. It did not kill the man, but it made him and his wounded Death Eaters escape, wary of the strange weapons the two shadowed men used on them.

Their faces still obscured, the brothers helped the boy on the gravestone down, doing what they could to help his wounds. His arm had been slashed, and was bleeding a lot, and he looked to have been tortured with the Cruciatus curse. Once the authorities arrived, Harry and Dudley stuck around to hear the boy's testimony.

Apparently, Hogwarts was hosting some tournament between it and two other schools. It was supposed to be held the year before, but they caught one of the judges harbouring his Death Eater son in the school, so it was cancelled until this year. Harry stepped up to hear the rest of the story.

"It was a portkey," the boy, Cedric Diggory gasped as a healer set his arm right. "The cup was a portkey! It took me here... I saw a man coming, but he was too fast. I was stunned and bound before I could do anything. He performed some freakish ritual and... You-Know-Who came back! He came back!"

"Are you sure?!" one of the Aurors demanded. "Saw him with your own eyes? It wasn't just another Death Eater?"

"We saw the ugly bastard too," Dudley volunteered, showing his DWC badge to the nodding Auror, a tall African man with a golden loop in his ear. "I messed up that pretty face of his."

Harry started laughing.

"Bloody hell!" another Auror cursed, coming up to them. "Shack, check it out!" she said, her hair changing to an interesting purple color. "It's Peter Pettigrew!"

"What?!" the Auror, 'Shack', gasped. "Are you certain?"

"Well, half his face is gone but it's definitely him!" the female Auror replied, her hair back to bubblegum pink. "He's got a dark mark too!"

"This will change everything in the Sirius Black case," 'Shack' mused. "Get a camera over here, we'll need the evidence. Dark Wizard Catchers Bolt and Pride, I can see why Alastor Moody recommended you. Our many thanks for capturing... well, disposing of these Death Eaters."

"We aim to please, shoot to kill," Harry said, it was their motto. Dudley thought it was hilarious when they made it up.

'Shack' thought so as well since he grinned. "I am Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, just in case you need my name for any verification purposes," he told them. "We can take it from here, you'd best get back and do your paperwork, because I don't fancy doing mine yet."

The boys apparated to London, before taking a taxi to their flat. Kingsley shook his head with a smile, before looking over at the carnage that was the graveyard. "Self-entitled 'Gun Mages' indeed," he chuckled deeply.

"Well, not bad for a week's worth of patrolling," Dudley yawned as Harry searched his jacket for his keys. "I think we got at least three or four Nibblers, so that'll be good for around four hundred Galleons."

Harry found the key and inserted it into the lock, before looking around discreetly. As he turned the key, he used his magic to shift the wards as well. "Yeah, not bad, we usually make that in a month," he agreed, swinging the door open.

Both young men immediately had four barrels pointed at a figure sitting on their couch, sipping a cup of tea. The cup was put down slowly.

"Harry, Dudley, how good to see you again!" Dumbledore said genially, as if four guns weren't pointed at him.

"Hey Albus," both teens replied wearily, holstering their guns in their double shoulder holsters. "What's up?"

"Many things, but I suppose that isn't what you're asking, is it?" he chuckled as they sat down. Harry summoned some lagers into the room. "Oh yum, I love non-magical's beer!"

Dumbledore was one of the first people to quickly adjust to calling muggles non-magicals, since it was less derogatory and the boys thought it was better. They all took a swig before Harry set his mug down.

"No."

Dumbledore pouted, an odd thing to see on his face. "But I have not even asked yet!" he said.

Harry laughed. "You want me to attend Hogwarts still, don't you?"

"Well, yes..."

"Nothing happening, not without my brother here," Harry said, locking knuckles with Dudley, before sharing manly grunts of manliness.

Dumbledore frowned. "Yes, in the past, that has been our only problem," he conceded. "But, I have found a loophole!"

"Only you would," Dudley muttered.

"Since Dudley here is a squib, and quite remarkable at Potions, I was able to enroll him as a Special Subjects tuition," Dumbledore explained. "It's something that Hogwarts offered a long time ago for when squibs weren't so frowned upon in society. This tuition allowed these students to take courses that did not require practical magic, such as Herbology, Potions, Astronomy, Muggle Studies (though that may be pointless for you), Arithmacy and Ancient Runes!"

The two boys seemed to be having a silent conversation. "You can't say you aren't interested," Dumbledore sat back smugly.

"No dice," they both replied, and Dumbledore sulked behind his beer mug.

"I like our current job, it pays good money and keeps life interesting," Dudley announced. "Going to school means having to... ugh, conform. And we wouldn't be allowed to bring our guns."

"Yeah and we've already tested for our OWLs and NEWTs," Harry added, making Dumbledore's eyebrows raise. "We just didn't have the results publicated. We got good marks in all of the ones we could do. So sorry Albus, but no dice."

"Is there nothing else I can do to convince you to go to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore pleaded. "These dark times are troubling, especially for you Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes yes, Boy-Who-Lived and all that," he said dismissively. "No, we won't become students at Hogwarts because we won't need to be."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and both Harry and Dudley felt something ominous coming. "Well, when you say it like that..."

"Ya know, I thought for a moment that he wanted us to be teachers!" Harry whispered to Dudley as they stood on Platform 9 3/4, watching everyone bustle around. It was September the first.

"Yeah, this security job is a much better idea!" Dudley agreed. "A hundred Galleons a week is a good deal! AND we get to keep our guns!"

Both teens were armed to the teeth today. One of Dumbledore's spies had tipped them off about a surprise attack on the train by Death Eaters, before it would leave for Hogwarts, or maybe en route. In addition to their pistols, Harry and Dudley were wielding French FN FAMAS SV assault rifles. They had been given to them by the French Ministry of Magic, through their non-magical connections. They were very good rifles, with a wicked rate of fire, but God, were they ugly. Harry planned on fixing that later if he had the time.

Harry had applied his charms to the magazines, so they were good for ammo. Many a passerbyer would give them strange looks, especially the non-magical-born, but they ignored them and kept a wary eye out. Anyone suspicious or wearing a white skull mask was probably a Death Eater.

"You know, it kinda feels good, going to Hogwarts," Dudley murmured, looking everywhere Harry wasn't. "Doesn't it?"

Harry thought about it as well. For some reason, it was as if a part of him felt like it was going home at last. "Yeah, as annoying as it may seem, it does," he answered.

It was nearing the time for the train to leave. If nothing happened at the platform, Harry and Dudley would then get about the Express and patrol throughout its journey. Harry's ears picked something up.

"Avada Ked -"

A burst of automatic fire stopped the Killing curse from leaving the Death Eater's lips as he flew back in a spray of blood. Harry had recently discovered that bullets held Reducto hexes rather well. It was due to the fact that metal was a very good container for storing spells, just not casting them. Of course, the practical limitations of doing such a thing for anything other than protective charms on jewelry didn't make it that popular. At least until Harry figured out that A: he knew magic and B: bullets were metal. And oh, was it ever fun!

Death Eaters apparated onto the platform, and Harry and Dudley took up a back-to-back position as they lay fire at them, minding the innocents. "Come on, let's split up and keep the people safe!" Dudley shouted, breaking away from Harry.

"Got it!" Harry yelled over his shoulder, the FAMAS spitting out bullets at a truly digusting rate. It may as well have been a hose. Death Eaters had since learned to cast physical shields to protect themselves, but against the onslaught of hundreds of bullets, they didn't last long. Their only hopes were to have half shielding and half attacking, which they did rather well. Since Harry didn't have the luxery of using a wand (he never saw the need) he didn't have a shield and had to use cover.

He blind-fired as he helped some people get to the barrier, and managed to drop another Death Eater. Dudley was some distance away, helping the Aurors take out another group that had arrived.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry was blown back as his FAMAS was sent flying underneath the train. Cursing, he tried to get back up, only to have a wand pressed to his neck.

"Using muggle weapons, how filthy," a slippery voice sneered from under its owner's mask. Some blonde hair slipped out of his hood. "Nothing will beat a wand, mudblood."

"That's your take on it," Harry said, before quickly swinging his legs, going into a breakdance. It caught the DE off guard as Harry's legs spun around, kicking his into the air and making him slam hard onto the pavement on his back. Harry spun one last time and used his momentum to jump into the air slightly, landing on his feet. He quickly drew his pistols and shot the DE's hand, making him scream in pain.

"My take is that my gun just rendered your wand useless," Harry told the DE. He fired his other pistol and shattered the little piece of wood. "See? Now stay here for a bit, I'm a little busy."

Harry shot the DE in the knees and shoulders, incapacitating him with a swift kick to the head afterwards. He wouldn't have enough time to rescue his rifle, so he just went at it with his STIs.

Forty-six minutes later (Harry checked his watch), the DEs had either been killed, captured or escaped. Five guesses as to who killed the most of them. Dudley leaned against the train, using a barrel cleaner to clean the gunk out of his FAMAS. He had a dirty look at the pile of bodies that lay before him. There was a reason why he was called Pride. It was something he felt everytime he killed a Death Eater scumbag.

"So, what's the damage?" Harry asked, leaning next to his brother.

"I think I overheated the barrel with the constant firing," Dudley commented. "It looks mangled."

"Other than your gun."

"Oh, eighteen dead Nibs, twenty-one wounded and the rest escaped," Dudley told him. "No students were killed, but some parents were, I couldn't see how many. A few Aurors were hurt too, but they're well-trained so none of them died."

"So not bad at all," Harry said and Dudley agreed. "Wonder where Tommy gets all of the followers."

"Mail order?" Dudley suggested.

"Oh yeah, for sure," Harry rolled his eyes. "I can see his ad in the classifieds: Dark Lord looking for servants whose interests include killing and torturing non-magicals, pure blood, attacking little kids and homosexuality."

"That would be one hell of an ad," Dudley chortled. He sobered up when he saw all the upset-looking people.

"I think the young ones are definitely gonna be traumatized."

"No shit."

"WOW that was awesome!" a little boy shouted, giving both teens a huge smile before being ushered off by his mother.

"Well, most of the sane ones will be."

Fortunetely, the train ride to Hogwarts was peaceful, and they made it there without harm. Harry and Dudley walked down the cars of the train, accepting thanks and especially candy from the grateful students. Once they arrived to the station, they each got their own boat, and rode on each side of the boats that took the first years to Hogwarts. The older years had sufficient protection from Aurors. Once they arrived, Harry and Dudley peeled the excited little kids off their bodies and went to the antechamber of the Great Hall, as directed by Professor McGonagall. She had peered curiously at Harry for a bit, but was distracted by the Sorting Ceremony.

Once all the first years were sorted, Dumbledore stood up to announce the school.

"As you all know, we live in dark times," he said. "But Hogwarts is the light within the darkness, and you are all safe here, I give you my word."

"Says the guy with a shrivelled black hand," Dudley snorted.

"Yeah, I noticed that too!" Harry said. They debated its cause, though mostly out of humor. Dudley had suggested that excessive masturbation was the cause.

"I would like to remind you that the caretaker, Mr. Filch, has added all Weasley Wizarding Wheezes to his list of banned items," Dumbledore continued. "Please, try not to get caught with them. The Forbidden Forest is aptly named, I don't think you need any more explaining, and the first Hogsmeade visit will be in October."

Once the cheers died down, Dumbledore raised his hands. "Now, aside from having support from Minister Scrimgeour by having Aurors stationed throughout Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, we also have the pleasure of having two very special men here tonight, who will aid in protection," he said with that damned twinkle in his eye. "These two young men are extraordinary in talent and power, and have built quite the reputation as Dark Wizard Catchers. They alone are responsible for the capture or deaths of over sixty Death Eaters and dark wizards or witches. They are also the ones who rescued Mr. Cedric Diggory -"

"HERE HERE!" Cedric shouted, raising his goblet, and Hufflepuff cheered loudly.

" from capture from Voldemort himself, and the subsequent capture and identification of Peter Pettigrew's body, clearing Sirius Black's name and his release from Azkaban!" Dumbledore continued with a large smile. "Gentlemen, would you come out, please?"

Harry exited the antechamber, followed by Dudley and walked up to Dumbledore, as the student body stared at them. Both were young men. Both were very good-looking. Both were very muscled. Both had Prada suits and trenchcoats, looking very stylish.

"May I present, Harry Potter and his cousin, Dudley Dursley."

The roars that filled the Great Hall were nearly deafening, but Dumbledore managed to calm everyone down, while the two Gun Mages smirked to eachother.

"Yes, yes, the men you all know as feared Dark Wizard Catchers Bolt and Pride are none other than these two gentlemen here!" Dumbledore announced. "They wished to keep their identities a secret, so they could aid the wizarding world better."

"He totally pulled that out of his ass," Dudley whispered.

"It's to make everyone love us," Harry whispered back. "Seems to be working on the ladies."

Indeed, many a schoolgirl were giving the two lovey-dovey looks.

"Their use of magic differs from ours as well," Dumbledore said. "They are self-entitled 'Gun Mages' and use non-magical (or muggle to those ignorant of the word) guns that have been enchanted to fire magical projectiles. As you saw from the attack earlier today, they are very effective."

"Not as effective as that four-pack rocket launcher at home," Dudley grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley are not part of the student body, therefore they cannot be punished or told what to do by teachers or prefects alike," Dumbledore said, seeming to stare hard at a greasy, sallow man down the table. "They have been hired as part of the security staff. And before anyone asks, they have already completed their NEWTs."

A Gryffindor girl with curly brown hair that looked a little out of control lowered her hand sheepishly.

"Now, are there any questions?" Dumbledore asked.

"Why didn't you go to Hogwarts?" a boy from Ravenclaw asked. Harry stepped forward.

"I didn't think it was necessary at the time," he replied. "Next."

"Isn't your cousin a muggle?" a sneering blonde boy from Slytherin asked rudely. "Muggles can't come to Hogwarts!"

"I consider the term 'muggle' to be offensive, and I'll tell you once, and only once, to use 'non-magical' from now on," Harry said, his voice steely and quiet. "And Dudley's a squib, but that doesn't mean he has the highest Potions NEWT score in the last thirty years, almost matching the score of that from your Potions professor, Serverus Snape."

Murmurs followed this, as Snape's questioning look was met by Dudley's fierce one.

"What's a Gun Mage?" a little girl from Hufflepuff asked.

Harry grinned. "Dud and I made that up," he said. "Basically, it's anyone who can wield a magical gun, and wield it good at that. Others have tried, but none are comparable to either of us."

"Why's that?" Cedric Diggory asked.

"We invented Gun-Kata," Dudley answered, stepping up. "It's based off of Japanese katas, or martial arts movements. We took those, and molded them to fit with guns. Having magical guns doesn't mean anything if you don't know how to use them, it's the same as a wand."

"Wicked," two red-heads grinned, a boy and a girl.

"Can you teach others how to do it?" the brunette from before asked, raising her hand.

"We could, but we'd rather keep it a family thing," Harry said after exchanging a glance with Dudley. "No offense."

There were more questions, but Dumbledore forestalled them by raising his hands. "I am sure you have many questions, but now is the time to sleep, for your studies start soon! Off to bed with you all!"

"What about us?" Dudley asked as the students and teachers left the hall.

"Since the Head Boy and Girl are not Gryffindors, you may take the suites in Gryffindor tower," Dumbledore told the two. "They are more than large enough for anything you may need. Professor McGonagall will escort you there. Good night gentlemen, and safe work!"

"You too," Harry said, waving goodbye. He followed the Headmistress and Dudley up to Gryffindor. She stopped in front of the portrait hole.

"This is the entry to the Gryffindor commons," she told the two briskly. "The password changes every month. Please ask a prefect what it will be. For now, it is Arcturius."

"That it is," the Fat Lady in the portrait giggled, swinging open. "One Headmistress and two Adonis, coming in!"

"Honestly," McGonagall muttered.

There were still some students up in the common room, chatting to one another, or playing small games. They all stopped upon seeing the three that had entered.

"Gryffindors, Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley will be occupying the Head Rooms as of now," she said sternly. "If you give them any trouble, you had best hope that they deal with you, rather than I!"

"Yes Professor!" they all chorused, a little fearfully.

"Good," she said. She led Harry and Dudley to the stairs that led to the dormitories. The one on the left was for boys, and right for girls. "Head Stairs, please."

The wall melted away to reveal a center set of stairs, and they headed up. At the top was a waiting area, and two doors on each of it. "It doesn't matter which one you take, they're not gender specific," McG told them. "Please set your own passwords. If you'll excuse me, I have course planning to work on."

"Thank you professor," Harry and Dudley said.

"No problem at all Messrs," she said with a rare smile. "I can tell that everyone is happy that you're here, especially you Mr. Potter. Why, the castle has not felt this lively since your parents and their troublemaking friends! Goodnight!"

Harry chose the left room, while Dudley took the right. It took a short time to unpack, thanks to magic (they just had to whisper "Levitation" to their pistols and shoot their stuff) so they decided to get some music going.

Harry had taken interest in playing instruments when they saw a street musician playing the guitar for money. They hired some tutors for lessons, and even Dudley got into it. Harry could play the cello, violin, and any guitar. Dudley was more of a piano/drums/trumpet kind of fellow. They could both play the flute or clarinet as well, since those instruments built up their lung strength.

Harry pulled his Amati-made cello out and checked it, before taking the bow and running it on the strings gently. It was always perfectly tuned. Dudley had no trouble pushing the grand piano into Harry's room, thanks to Hogwarts.

"What should we play?" Dudley asked. "I'm in the mood for something mellow."

"You've read my mind," Harry grinned, preparing his bow. "Classical, then?"

"As long as it's not Beethoven," Dudley grimaced. Most of Beethoven's songs had been drilled into the boys' heads.

"Agreed, so how about a remix of... Nearer, my God, to Thee?" Harry suggested. "Bethany version."

Dudley made a face. "Christ, I said mellow, not downright depressing!" he laughed. "Right-o on your cue then!"

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger heard the beautiful noise of music coming from the Head suites, and shared a curious look along with everyone else. It was a haunting, but beautiful tone, and it was being played by a piano and a large string instrument.

"What is that amazing song?" Katie Bell asked, swaying slightly to the music. "It really hits you in the heart."

"It's called 'Nearer, my God, to Thee'," Hermione explained. "It's a hymm... Yes, I went to church!"

Everyone finally stopped staring at her incredulously.

"You think it's Harry Potter and his cousin up there that's doing it?" Ron asked.

"Most likely, though I never would have expected it," Hermione answered. "I'm going to go look!"

"Hey, Mione, wait up!" Ron protested as she headed for the stairs.

"Don't call me Mione!" Hermione scolded. "I hate it when you call me that!"

They went upstairs and to the open door that music was soaring out of. Peeking in, they saw a beautiful sight.

Harry Potter, swaying gently with a bow as he played the cello that was in front of him, his eyes closed and a peaceful look on his handsome face. Dudley Dursley was at home on the large ivory paino he sat at, his fingers seemingly one with the keys as he matched Harry note for note.

"Incredible," Hermione breathed, as they stood there, watching. "Doesn't it bring a tear to your eye Ronald?"

She looked over to Ron, who was furiously wiping his face. "Of course not!" he said thickly, and she just gave him a hug.

"You gonna stand there, or take a seat?" Harry asked, still not opening his eyes. "Might be more comfortable."

He didn't even slack once in his performance as he spoke to them. The two Prefects hurriedly sat down at the comforter nearby, as the two Gun Mages continued playing, adding some twists, Hermione could see. They were very talented musicians. Once they finished, she and Ron clapped enthusiastically, and applause could be heard downstairs as well. Harry set his bow down carefully and grinned at his cousin.

"Guess we shoulda locked the door, huh?" he said.

Hermione looked pouty. "Oh no, that was wonderful!" she said, looking pleased and flushed. "Where did you learn to play so well?"

Dudley stood up from the piano and stretched his legs. "We hired some top notch tutors when we were kids," he said. "Guess it paid off, huh Bolt?"

"With applause like that, I wonder what I'll get when I book a Death Eater," Harry laughed, packing his cello up in a streamlined aluminum case. Dudley left the piano in the corner of the huge room.

"So, how're you liking Hogwarts so far?" Hermione asked, trying to be courteous. "I'm Hermione Granger by the way, and this is Ron Weasley!"

"Hiya! Good food, big rooms, pretty girls," Harry admitted, giving her a flirty wink as she rolled her eyes. "I'm not complaining."

"Especially with the big fat paycheck," Dudley said, sharing a high five with Ron.

"Aren't you too young to be Dark Wizard Catchers?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"We're emancipated minors, not that it matters soon anyways," Dudley explained. "We'll be of age in the wizarding world next year. Since I got registered as a squib, my legal age is seventeen instead of eighteen now."

"What's it like being a Squib?" Ron asked, only to be smacked by Hermione. Hard.

"What's it like being a redhead?" Dudley smiled. "The only difference between me and Harry is that he has to charm my stuff, that's all. Other than that, we're equal."

"That's so postive!" Hermione gushed. "Everyone else would just hide away their squib relatives, but you two made things work, it's real commendable!"

"Yeah those gun thingies are pretty wicked," Ron agreed. "I saw you using them at the platform! Never saw a Death Eater duck for cover so fast!"

They shared a laugh. Harry glanced at his timepiece and saw that it was late. "It's been good talking to you, but you should get some rest," he told the two dissapointed prefects. "We all gotta get up early tomorrow."

"Okay, but come visit with us sometime!" Hermione demanded, to their laughter.

"We live with you guys, it's not that hard," Dudley said, as they headed down the stairs. "Wierd kids, huh?"

"That Hermione girl wasn't half bad looking," Harry grinned. "Some Sleek-Easy and BAM! I'd do her."

"You'd do anything with female genitalia," Dudley smirked, before Harry put him in a headlock.

"ATTRACTIVE, HUMAN FEMALE GENITALIA!" Harry hollered, as they horsed around. "And need I remind you that you're a bigger man-whore than I am? Mr. 'I've got 213 notches in my holster'!"

They didn't get any sleep until early morning.

"Damn you and your pillow fights!" Harry grumbled to Dudley in a grave voice the next morning, after only getting four hours of sleep. He had to resort to Stunning himself to sleep. Imagine the look on McGonagall's face if she saw him pointing his gun at his head and pulling the trigger! Hilarious!

"Damn YOU and tickling charms," Dudley muttered, rubbing his sore sides. Harry had brought guns into play after Dudley exhausted his pillow supply.

"Shut it you little pecker," Harry growled, stabbing at his eggs.

"I'll have you know my pecker's bigger than yours!"

"Oh yeah, 3/8s of an inch, big deal," Harry mocked. "I'm no slouch and you know it!"

"True," Dudley conceded. "Remember those girls from France?"

"You mean Aimee and Claire?!" Harry grinned wildly. "Oh, brother of mine, how could I not?! (It was only two weeks ago) Too bad their Veela friend didn't join in. That would have been mayhem, sheer mayhem!"

"Said she had a boyfriend or something," Dudley said regretfully. "She was all like, 'Oh non, I cannot do zat to my Weelleeum, eet would be terreeeeeblay!'"

"I told her I plowed her friend twice as much for her," Harry cackled, laughing his ass off. "The look on her face was priceless! I thought she was gonna throw a fireball at me!"

"Ahem."

"Remember the next morning?" Dudley asked. "It's all quiet and then you hear 'YOU'RE OW OLD?!' Never ran so fast in my LIFE!"

"Ahem."

"If they only knew who we really were, we'd probably get laid again," Harry said.

"Excuse me!"

They both turned to see McG, along with the rest of the students in the hall, staring at them. "Whoops," Harry laughed nervously, flicking one of his bangs to the side, a thing he did in situations like these. "Okay well, Obliv -"

"MR. POTTER!" McG hollered in horror.

"I wasn't gonna do it!" Harry protested, holstering his gun as the first years got back out from underneath the tables. "Honest! All it did was cross my mind!"

"Honestly, you two remind me of James Potter and Sirius Black so much that if Black weren't still alive, I'd belive they were reincarnated into you!"

"Yo, that's not cool," Dudley said. "Imagine that Harry, your dad in your body? It'd be like a perverted old man who was young again! No virgin would be safe from your clutches!"

"And what about you?" Harry shot back. "I heard that Sirius Black was a huge man whore, just like you! He probably slept with more girls than you did!"

"If he didn't get fresh with 333 witches, then yes, yes I did," someone said, striding up to them. Harry and Dudley saw a well-groomed Sirius Black come up to them with a mischievious grin. "So, Bolt turns out to be my godson, eh?"

Harry steepled his fingers together. "It would appear so, Mr. Black," he said in a freakisly accurate Dumbledore voice.

"What's that make me?" Dudley whined.

"The guy who didn't beat Sirius Freaking Black, that's who!" Harry said smugly.

Sirius let out a belly laugh. "Now now, he's got plenty of time to catch up," he said, winking at Dudley, who had an evil smile. "Since Harry is my godson and he considers you his brother, then you're both godsons as far as I'm concerned! That okay, Dudley?"

"Fine by me," Dudley smiled. "Now you can spoil us with all the money you got from the Ministry for wrongful imprisonment."

Sirius barked with laughter. "Considering I owe it all to you boys anyways, I wouldn't mind!" he said.

"So, what brings you to Hoggy Hogwarts?" Harry asked curiously, finding his new godfather a great riot.

Sirius puffed his chest out. "They've reinstated the dueling club, and Iwill be the teacher!" he said pompously.

"... So you're gonna get your ass kicked by five hundred schoolkids?" Dudley deadpanned.

"Hey!"

"Now now boys," McG said sternly. Sirius shot her a winning smile. "The majority of them are first and second years, so he may stand a chance."

"Minnie, how could you?!" Sirius cried in mock horror.

"What a lively morning!" Dumbledore said with a beaming smile, walking over to the group. "Sirius, it is good to have you back with us, legally, of course."

"Agreed Albus, agreed," Sirius nodded, shaking the man's non-withered left hand. Dumbledore noticed him eyeing the right one.

"I have had it looked at, do not fret," he smiled. "It is a problem that will soon be solved."

"Now if someone only looked at old Snivvy, then many problems would be solved," Sirius muttered.

"And if someone had fixed you upon your entry to Hogwarts, then the women would have had their problems solved," an oil voice sneered, as Snape billowed up.

Sirius was unfazed, and grinned at the dark man. "Ah, Serverus, I'll have you know with my track record, that none of those girls had a bun in the oven," he said jovially. "What's your track record again? Oh, and beakers don't count."

"That's enough you two," Dumbledore said sternly, while Harry and Dudley just rolled around on the floor, laughing.

"ANYways," Harry chuckled, wiping tears away. "We should probably go patrol a bit. We'll be back for lunch."

"What are you patrol plans?" Dumbledore asked.

"Walk around randomly and go into random classrooms and then question random people about random things while being random," Dudley said seriously.

"Ah, excellent," Dumbledore said with a nod. "Carry on then!"

As things settled down, Snape muttered to McG, "I don't know who's crazier."

She was hard pressed to disagree.

"So, anything interesting on your side?" Dudley asked, his face appearing in the mirror Harry held in his hand. Sirius had given him and Dudley their own mirror before they set off, saying that they could use them to contact eachother and him as well.

Harry was currently in the Dungeons, where Potions and the Slytherin commons were. "Not really, it's pretty dark and gross though," he replied. "You?"

"Thought I heard someone hiding in a broom closet, but turned out to be a couple doin' the nasty," Dudley laughed. "I am so glad I brought my camera. Schoolgirls are terrified of blackmail."

"You evil, evil bastard," Harry moaned. He came up to a classroom that had smoke billowing out of the door's cracks. "Well, I'm gonna go barge into a class, over and out."

"Yeah, see ya!"

Harry put the mirror in one of his vest's pockets, and knocked on the door before entering. It was a Potions class for Sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. The professor was some fat old guy named Horace Slughorn.

"Harry Potter, welcome, it's good to meet you at last!" Slughorn greeted happily, rushing over to shake Harry's hand. Harry discreetly squirted some cleaning alcohol onto it after. "I suppose you're doing your rounds eh? Exciting work, being a DWC! I know quite a few of them myself, never got to meet the two most popular however! You know Harry, if you'd like to become a full-time Auror, just give me a Floo call, I have many connections with the ministry!"

"Thanks," Harry said, not knowing what else to say. He had a different job in mind after this whole war. Was bachelor playboy a real job?

"As you can see, this is our first Potions class, and I started it with a quiz," Horace said, leading Harry around. "Miss Granger here correctly named all of the potions I had on display, and even brewed the best potion in class, earning her a free sample of Felix Felicis!"

"Liquid Luck eh?" Harry asked. "Dudley made a whole cauldron full two years ago."

"Dudley as in Dudley Dursley?" Horace's greedy, beedy little eyes lit up. "The Potions prodigy squib? He's your cousin and partner, is he not? Oh, I must simply meet him, we could have such a greet discussion involving many potions!"

"I'll talk to him about it," Harry said, a little unnerved by the man's eagerness to whore himself out to popular people. "So, uh, how're you liking this class?" he asked a random Gryffindor.

"Hi, I'm Lavender!" she giggled, giving him a coquettish smile. "It's much better than Professor Snape's classes!"

"Yeah, I heard that guy was a douche," Harry agreed.

Hermione gasped. "Harry, you can't insult a teacher!" she chastised.

"I can totally insult him cuz he's not my teacher," Harry said smugly, sticking his tongue out at her while Lavender and her mocha friend tittered to eachother. "What about you," he pointed to a Slytherin boy who was bordering on effeminate.

"It's not bad, makes no difference to me," he answered. "Blaise Zabini."

"What's this, an interogation?" the same rude blonde from last night sneered. "Gonna catch you a Death Eater, Potter?"

Harry squinted at the guy. The blonde hair was familiar. "Hey, you must be the son of that guy I shot the crap out of!" he said brightly. "I remember now, blew off his knees and shoulders, yeah, that's right. Wonder if he died or not..."

The kid looked incensed. "Why you!" he shouted, reaching for his wand.

Somehow, Harry appeared in front of the boy, sitting on his desk with a pistol lazily held in his hand sideways, pointing at the kid's face. "Hey hey now, put that thing away, you might hurt someone!" Harry scolded. "Makes me wonder though, does the term 'like father, like son' apply here?"

The boy pulled back harshly, his left arm tucked into his robes. "What's your name kid?"

"It's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy!" he bit out. "And you'll pay for putting my father in Azkaban!"

"No, I GOT paid for putting your father in Azkaban, learn proper Engrish," Harry chided. "Now let's see, Sleep."

"What?" Malfoy asked blithely, but Harry shot him in the face.

Screaming was expected.

"You've killed him, you murderer!" a girl with one effed up face screamed at Harry, while clutching Malfoy in her arms. Was it even possible to breed with pugs? "The Wizengamot will have you kissed by Dementors!"

"Relax, he's just sleeping," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Off, now!"

He nudged the unfortunate looking girl out of the way and grabbed Malfoy's hidden left arm. "Oho, look what we got here!" he chortled, holding up a pasty white arm adorned with a Dark Mark. "Looks like I just made a hundred gold!"

"Wish I could make a hundred Galleons," Ron muttered to himself.

"You wanna?" Harry asked.

"What?"

"Awaken," Harry told his pistol. He shot Malfoy again, freaking out the classroom yet again.

"You!-" Malfoy yelled, but Harry motioned at Ron, who caught his drift.

"Stupefy!" Ron said with a smirk, as Malfoy conked out. Yet again. "Merlin that felt great!"

"Hey look, Ron Weasley caught a Death Eater spy, good work man!" Harry said with such obvious, terrible acting that everyone either rolled their eyes or shook their heads. He took our his mirror. "Hey Pride, get the Aurors down to the Dungeons, I caught a rat. Oh, and don't tell anyone but the Aurors."

"Got it," Dudley said.

"Don't you need to tell Dumbledore?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Harry patted her on the head, making her scowl. "See Hermione, Alby is great and all, but he's got this warped sense of 'everyone is good' in his mind that he'd just let this little cumbubble go without a word. And if Dumbledore gets involved, then Snape gets involved, because that guy has a hard-on for Malfoy here for some reason. Always staring at him and whatnot, ugh... So if we get the Aurors here first, then they get first dibs, understand?"

"I suppose," Hermione said thoughtfully, ignoring his dirty language. "I wouldn't want to see a Death Eater set free, that's for sure!"

The Aurors came and had already hauled Malfoy off ten minutes before Dumbledore and Snape arrived, just as Harry said. The looks on their faces weren't happy, to say in the least.

"I must confess, that we have been hiding a secret from you boys," Dumbledore sighed in his office, as the brothers and Snape listened.

"You're gay lovers?" Dudley asked.

"NO!" Snape shrieked.

"Whoa, okay, jeez, don't lose your composure man!" Dudley laughed.

"You see, young Draco was appointed with the task to assassinate me during this school year, and Voldemort would kill his parents if he failed. Snape made an Unbreakable Vow to keep Draco alive, so he had to keep him out of harm's way. I myself had been hunting for Horcruxes - we spoke of this a few months ago - and injured my hand by trying to destroy Slytherin's ring," Dumbledore sighed. "The curse is eating away at my body. It was only my finger, but in the two months since, it is nearly at my elbow. Once it reaches my heart, I will die a most horrible death."

"And that involves Malfoy, how?" Harry asked.

"Because, you arrogant fool, the headmaster has set plans into motion that your feeble mind could not nearly begin to comprehend!" Snape seethed, his face red.

"I get it perfectly," Harry said, leaning forward in his chair. "Let me guess: Since you're already dying, you've taken measures to prolong it until the end of the year or so, so you can keep the children happy. Because you know you'll die, you figure you might as well be a saint and let Malfoy kill you, so his parents will be spared. Snape here will make sure this happens at all costs, even if he has to off you himself. That way, Malfoy's good, Snape's good, you bob your uncle like you're supposed to and everyone gets high."

"That is an amazing accurate telling of our plans," Dumbledore said with a grin. "How did you come up with it?"

"I just made it up on the spot, wow," Harry said, confuzzled.

"So you see the foolishness of your actions!?" Snape roared.

"Not really," Dudley said, reclining his chair. "Far as I'm concerned, your vow was just to make sure that little sperm defect stays alive. I'm sure he won't die in a Ministry holding cell."

"He's not in Azkaban?" Snape asked, relieved.

"Please, were not as stupid as your government," Harry snapped with an annoyed face. "All criminals capture by us are sent to cells in the Department of Mysteries, the really mysterious part. He'll have a nice reunion with his dad as ol' bubba lays in on him."

"Well, there is nothing we can do about it now," Dumbledore sighed. "I have no influence over Rufus as it is. We will simply have to change our plans."

"Yeah, you don't die anytime soon," Dudley told him. "You don't kill him."

"What about the Malfoys?" Snape asked in defeat. It was impossible, to be defeated by two teenaged brats, one of them being a Potter.

"Far as I'm concerned, the men can continue having their anal sphincters explored," Harry said. "As for the wife, well, whatever."

"Voldmort will surely kill her once he finds out about Draco and Lucius," Snape warned.

"And that's my problem, how?" Harry demanded. Snape flew over to the bookstand and pulled out a Hogwarts yearbook from his days at the school. Flipping through it, he stopped on a page and presented it to Harry. Harry looked at it.

"She still look like that?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"She got a sister?"

"One is married, the other is hopelessly psychotic."

Harry and Dudley held a private conversation. "Fine, we'll go save her ass, but only because she's a smoking hot woman," Harry conceded. "Just give me somewhere to go, and a portkey to it."

"It is done," Dumbledore said, picking up a pen. "Portus."

"Thanks, we'll leave at night time."

The two brothers headed back to their suites, gearing up before their new mission. Both put on vests with ceramic plate armor. They changed out of their clothes and donned tactical urban BDUs. Heading to the weapons lockers, they picked out their weapons. After a fierce game of Rock Paper Scissors, it was decided that Harry would give into Malfoy Manor to rescue Narcissa while Dudley provided sniper support.

Harry picked out a Steyr AUG assault rifle. The bullpup weapon was compact in design, but had a full length rifle barrel. It featured a red dot scope that had been magicked to work with... magic and the standard charmed magazine. Harry slipped a spare into his vest just in case 600 rounds wasn't enough. His STIs were in thigh holsters.

Dudley had chosen a big, American Barett M95, which had come out last year. It was a bolt action bullpup anti-material weapon, which used 12.7X99mm rounds, or .50cal. It's maximum range was 1800 meters, plenty for this mission. The charmed magazine held 100 rounds, give or take a few.

They spent the rest of the day formulating plans on how to get into Malfoy Manor, and pored over blueprints and maps of the surrounding area. They also contemplated whether Mrs. Malfoy was a potential pedophile or not.

Once they were ready, both teens held the pen and said, "Activate!"

They were whisked away to the outskirts of a massive manor located on top of a hill. Deciding to leave sight-seeing for later, Harry motioned for Dudley to get into position somewhere good.

"Good, keep in touch with the mirror, but quietly!" Dudley said, before going off to find a tree. Harry shouldered his AUG, and snuck up to the manor, some half mile away. It was a stupidly inconvenient way to make your guests walk all across the huge lawn when they decided to visit on foot. When he eventually made it to the mansion, he pulled out his mirror.

"I'm at the house," he whispered. He looked through one of the windows. "I see a few Death Eaters in there."

"I see you," Dudley whispered back, the mirror showing him squinting into his riflescope. "Four Death Eaters, one's form looks female. They're giving Malfoy some trouble."

"So, time to cause some mayhem?" Harry asked, holding a flash grenade up.

"Oh yes, indeed!"

They put their mirrors away and Harry pulled the pin on the flashbang. He waited two seconds, then used the butt of his AUG to smash the window, before chucking the grenade in. It exploded a second later, blinding everyone in the room. He heard a big ass bullet whistle through the air, and a scream that was cut off right after it. The sound of the BMG reached his ears sheer moments later. Dudley must have been quite far away, at least a kilometer.

Harry threw himself through the window, firing his AUG rapidly at the two Death Nibblers that were still blind. They were down, but where was the last one? Speaking of which, where the hell was Narcissa?!

"Corridor to your right, hurry!" Dudley's voice came from his vest.

"Got it!" Harry yelled, running like a mad man. He burst into said corridor, having to instantly flatten himself against the wall to avoid a flurry of killing curses. The female DE was dragging Narcissa by the arm and was about forty feet away. Harry dropped onto his stomach and fired pot shots at the DE, hitting her in the right thigh. She went down, cursing up a storm and Harry rolled to avoid a shitload of torture curses. Harry kept firing bursts at the pair, making sure not to hit them, but to frighten them. The fact that Dudley's big ass gun was hammering foot wide holes into the walls didn't make them any better off either.

As he kept firing and advancing, the chaos forced Narcissa to one side corridor and the DE to the other. Running quickly, Harry kept his finger on the trigger so the DE wouldn't pop out, and sprayed the wall, as he reached the intersection. Ducking into the corridor that Narcissa was in, he grabbed her, keeping a steady stream of bullets at the DE who was trying to get up. Throwing Narcissa against the wall, Harry used his wieght to keep her there, as he fired his AUG with one hand and grabbed another flashbang with his left. He pulled the pin and then grabbed Narcissa, booking it.

A searing blue light crept on their vision around the edges, and Harry exploded out of the corridor, hearing mad shrieks of whom he knew was Bellatrix Lestrange in the back. He manhandled Narcissa out the front door, as Dudley arrived, waving his Big Ass rifle around. "Got her, let's get outta here!" Harry said. "Fucking Bellatrix is in there!"

"The same Bellatrix that chewed her brother-in-law Rabastan Lestrange's throat off in Azkaban?!" Dudley asked wildly. "The same Bellatrix that then used his flesh-torn fingerbones to scratch murderous messages on the walls of her Azkaban cell? The same -"

"Yes, that one," Harry grumbled. "Let's go!"

"Let go of me this instant!" Narcissa shrieked, battering at Harry since she didn't have her wand, he did. "Unhand me now! You filthy mudlboods!"

Harry slapped her, hard. "Listen bitch, I got your husband and son in a prison cell that no one can find, let alone break into," he snarled. "You want your family to live, you shut the bleeding fuck up and come with us! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

She looked terrified for a moment. This was Bolt, the legendary DWC who turned out to be the equally legendary Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived?! He was positively frightening!

"Yes," she whispered timidly.

"Good, activate!" Harry growled, taking out the pen. They appeared in the suites. "Fuck, get off me Dud!"

"Shut up, I'm only like, five kilos heavier than you!" Dudley grumbled, doing so. They helped Narcissa get up.

"My son!" she demanded.

"Easy sugercakes," Harry held up his hands. "The Aurors are currently having a go at him. You can't visit yet."

"Very well," she sniffed. "Where will I be staying in the meantime?"

"Prison cell."

"What?!" she shrieked in outrage. "I am nota Death Eater!"

"You clearly don't mind having a family of them," Dudley sneered.

"I wanted out of it!" Narcissa hissed. "I never wanted my son to become a Death Eater, but he was too proud like his idiot father! And now look where it's gotten them! In prison, and if they ever escape, it's straight to death from the Dark Lord! I just wanted to be left alone!"

"Tell you what, we'll hide you somewhere until this all bowls over," Harry suggested. "My bed sound okay?"

"YOU ARROGANT, LITTLE, COCKY -"

"I'll have you know my 'little cocky' is way huger than your husbands sixer," Harry said, insulted. She gaped at him, at a loss of words. "That's right, all convicts have all their measurements taken. And if you think your hubby's inbred half sub was anything special, then you've obviously never been in the Eight Inches and Up club."

"What makes you think -!" she blustered. "Bring me to Dumbledore, now!"

Needless to say, neither boy got another notch on their holsters that night.

"Did you hear?"

Ah, early morning gossip. How quaint.

"The Malfoy Manor was burnt to the ground last night! Dark Mark and everything!"

"I heard the Malfoys betrayed You-Know-Who, and escaped somewhere!"

"Never would've expected that, no, seriously."

"HAH! Malfoy's got no ho-ome! Malfoy's got no ho-ome!"

"Ronald! That behaviour is unbecoming of a Prefect!"

"You've got a smirk on your face Mione."

"I do not! And stop waving that hundred Galleons around like you earned it! We all know it was Harry who really capture Malfoy!"

"Yeah but who got paid??"

Dumbledore leaned over to Harry and Dudley, who were currently sleeping in their bacon. "A commendable action," he said, waking them up.

"Whuzza?" Harry asked groggily, a piece of bacon covering his scar. "Yeah, used a rubber, no worries." He plopped back down. Dudley didn't even bother raising his head.

The first Hogsmeade would prove a nightmare to organize security for. The fifteen Aurors and two teenagers that had no place in law enforcement couldn't keep an eye on all two hundred odd students in the village properly. Even the Order members didn't boost the ranks up enough. It was going to be a pain in the ass.

"What's worse is every girl who is old enough to go to this stupid effing party Slughorn's hosting is buying a stupid effing dress, which means we've got like, a million girls out here," Dudley complained, heaving his M4A1 over his shoulder. Harry's was held loosely at his side. "EFF I hate that old man! He comes outta nowhere and starts pestering me about potions stuff! Hey I like the subject but I'm not a bleeding fanatic like he is! Next time I'm gonna knock his effing lights out."

"I'll take the picture," Harry said. "And don't worry about today. If anything bad happens, I'll use Shunpou."

Dudley looked sober. "It'd have to be pretty serious for you to use the Flash Step," he said. "I still can't belive you used it on Malfoy when you arrested him."

Harry shrugged. "I got permission from Lord Kyokyou to use it whenever I wanted, so why not?" he asked. "It's not especially taxing either. Being able to move at the speed of light is wicked!"

"I'm so not jealous at the moment," Dudley pouted. "Not at all."

"Potter, Dursley, get a move on!" Moody growled at them as he passed by on his broomstick. "As much as I'd like them to, the students aren't going to protect themselves!"

"Rogerrrrrr," Harry saluted, before Flash Stepping out of view.

"What the, that kid knows Shunpou?" Moody asked in surprised respect. "Damn kids these day."

Harry appeared in the main street of Hogsmeade, looking around. Several students waved at him, and he waved back with a smile. He started to patrol the village, doing his usual thing. Nothing would probably happen today. He headed into the Three Broomsticks for a brief moment, ordering a Gillywater to go. As he walked back outside, he took swigs of his drink as he watched students going around merrily, doing usual teenager stuff.

If I had gone to Hogwarts, would I have done such boring crap like that? he wondered. He ran into Hermione, who was on a date with an idiot named Cormac McClaggen, only because she wanted to make Ron jealous since he was going out with Lavender Brown. Yeah, good thing I avoided this highschool drama bollocks.

"Keeping watch, or getting drunk, Potter?" a snide tone behind him asked.

"A little from column A, and a little from column B!" he said.

He turned around to see an attractive witch with long brown hair and blue eyes. She looked strangely familiar. Actually, it was just her tone that was familiar.

"Cissy, good to see you again!" he said brightly, giving her a hug which made her fume. "How's the family?"

"I believe you know the answer to that," she ground out between gnashed teeth.

"What brings you to Hogsmeade?"

She looked around before leaning close to Harry. "Dumbledore put this glamour on me so I could blend in without suspicion," she informed him. "I was sick of staying cooped up in that Godforsaken school!"

"If you're bored, you can always join me in the Eight Inches and Up club," Harry said suggestively, waggling his eyebrows.

"I highly doubt that you would be in a club like that if it existed," she said haughtily.

"Oh? Then how bout I whip it out and prove you wrong?" Harry asked slyly, playing with the zipper of his slacks. "Course I can't stand around with my willy hanging out, so I suppose you could use those lips of yours to cover 'em up."

"You are a foul, disgusting pig Potter," Narcissa sniffed, flicking her hair and walking away from him. He followed, much to her distaste.

"Only to women who don't want me," he said with a grin. "They eventually find it irresistable."

"They must be some empty-headed witches to think so," she replied as they entered Honeydukes.

"You forget that you're a natural blonde?"

They exited five minutes later, still arguing.

"Potter, let me just say that without the aid of Amortentia or the Imperius curse, there is no way in HELL that I would let you bed me," Narcissa fumed, while sucking on a blood lolly.

"Come on, it'll be something kinky for once in your life," Harry said, taking big whisps out of his cotton candy. "I happen to know about one hundred and thirty different positions, and that's before including chains and straps!"

"You know what, fine!" Narcissa shouted, throwing her lolly to the ground. "You want me so bad, Potter, you've got me! Do your best, ravish me with all you've got!"

Harry stared at her, a piece of cotton candy falling off his lips. "You serious?" he asked.

She smacked him upside the head, really hard. "Of course not you bloody idiot!" she screamed, making several people stop and look. "I'm more than twice your age and you're enemies with my husband and son!"

"Way to not arouse suspicion," Harry smirked, gesturing to the audience.

"Oh do shut up," she grumbled, unwrapping a new blood lolly that she took out of her bag. "Potter, enough with this foolish notion of trying to bed me. It's not funny anymore."

"Alright, alright," Harry surrendered, holding up his hands. "You're just real easy to get riled up, probably why I did it in the first place."

"Idiot."

"Artificial intelligence."

"Oh har har Potter."

"You sure are good with women," Hermione told him the next day, as they sat down for lunch. She was being sarcastic, of course.

"Hm?" Harry asked. "Oh, her. Naw, it's just a thing I do to see how pissed off she gets. I'm rather good with women."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Hermione said dryly.

"Oh?" Harry said, his eyes lighting up with challenge. "Shall I prove it to you? I'll pick a girl out of the crowd and turn her into putty."

"No, how about I choose a girl?" Hermione said with a smirk. "Like, I don't know, her?"

She pointed at a Slytherin seventh year who had straight black hair down to her waist, crystal blue eyes and legs of an illegal length. "That's Tracey Davis," Hermione pointed out smugly. "No one's been sucessfully able to ask her out! Well? What are you waiting for, Casanova?"

"Pft, Casanova is old school, the new term is Potternova," Harry said arrogantly, getting up and walking over to the girl.

Hermione and all the people in the hall watched as Harry started to talk to Tracey, who looked pissed and annoyed. He kept at it, making her look angrier and angrier and Hermione was smirking victoriously, as the girls' hand hovered towards her wand. But then Harry leaned in closer to her and started whispering into her ear. At first, Davis was confused, but slowly her scowl turned into a frown, then a small smirk, then a smile and then she started giggling!

Harry was then so bold as to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his body. He continued talking into her ear, as she kept smiling at whatever he said, and started to thread his fingers through her silky hair, making her purr. Purr! Soon, she was running her hands up his muscled torso, a she began to whisper in his ear too, and from what it looked like, the red in her cheeks wasn't from anger. Harry finally pulled back and said one last thing to her, before nipping her on the ear and letting her leave with a light slap on her butt, making her shriek and giggly slightly, before leaving the hall in a hot and bothered state.

Harry came back and leaned on the bench, amongst cheers and slaps on the back from the men. Hermoine's glare ended that.

"How?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked innocently.

"How did you do that?" she asked, a little angrily. "She never speaks to any boy that likes her! She's never even dated anyone! How did you get her to turn into a giggly fangirl so quickly?!"

"Easy," Harry said, making everyone lean in closely. "I just told her what I was going to do to her when she comes to my room tonight."

"YOU WHAT?!" Hermione screamed.

"Well yeah, if you want the gist of it, I'll be getting the strawberries and melted chocolate ready at eight, then the hot tub fired up by nine -" Harry began, but Hermione was having none of it.

The poor girl was having an odd fit, and was turning redder and redder as Harry listed off the things he had planned, going lewder and more perverted as he went on. He finally noticed her state.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked Hermoine worriedly.

She didn't respond, and just chose to sit there, balling her fists tightly together as she stared at her plate and muttered to herself. Unbeknowenst to everyone else, Hermione was furiously contemplating on how Harry could accomplish such a thing and get any girl he wanted while she couldn't even get Ron.

"I think you broke her," Pavarti mentioned.

"Easily fixed, watched," Harry said. He placed his finger on Hermione's back, just above her shoulder blades. He trailed it down her back, before jabbing it into an area which would elicit -

"Ha-AAAHHHH!" Hermione cried out, leaping to her feet and arching her body, her arms pressed against her heaved out chest as she yelped in an incredibly erotic voice.

It was silent for a moment. Everyone just stood or sat there, not believing what they had seen or heard. Harry himself was still on the bench, his finger still where it had been.

Pavarti turned to Lavender "Ooooh, sexy!" she said.

Hermione, meanwhile, had recovered, and was glaring down at Harry. "HAR-RY POT-TER!" she roared.

"Ack, Hermione!" Harry cried, bolting. It was a damn good thing he knew Shunpou.