"Why is it that whenever I get raped, a fanfiction author is describing is at, 'as Uncle Vernons member penetrated him, the pain split him in two?!' as if they know what it's like being anally raped. Bitches." Harry-I've-Got-A-Scar-Potter groaned to his best mate, Ron Weasley.

"At least you're not always raped by your Uncle," said Ron consolingly, "sometimes Snape rapes you. It's variety, Harry."

"Yeah, but whenever Snape rapes me I get pregnant."

"Well, what about the times he doesn't force you?" Ron said, bringing up the brighter side of things.

"Well, I suppose it's a bit nicer. But we always end up shagging consensually when I'm a stripper in Muggle London or we meet in a gay bar over the summer." Harry reminded him.

"It's romantic, Harry," Ron said, looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

"Your moms romantic" Harry snapped.

"Wha-?"

"Nothing. It's not romantic when he ends up being my long long long long long long lost father."

Ron realized he couldn't help his friend, and also couldn't get the image of two hereditary greasy-haired males screwing, and stood up to leave.

"Well, I'm off to beat my girlfriend, Hermione, to a bloody pulp, so Snape can rescue her and shag her instead of you."

"I think Draco's already shagging her," Harry alerted him, "he found her suffering from an eating disorder, cutting herself, painting her nails, and listening to an Evanescence CD all at the same time while they, as Head Boy and Head Girl, shared a room together. He helped her-"

"-get her panties off." Ron grumbled, "anyways, I thought Draco was yours. You both bonded over abusive home lives and ended up boffing each other in the broom closet near Snapes rooms."

"Your mom boffs in a broom closet near Snapes rooms".

"What?"

"….nothing."