It was a dreary day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Harry Potter didn't have shit to do.

I'm Harry fucking Potter, thought Harry fucking Potter. How can I, one of the greatest wizards to ever exist, possibly be bored. I killed the Voldermort like five friggin' times. I'm practically a war hero. A god damn atom bomb.

His poor friends, Hermione and Ronny(the Bear), were no where to be found. Harry knew they had been avoiding him because of their intense jealousy. He was the king of the wizards and they were merely peasents in his godly shadow. Despite how inferior they were, Harry felt it was duty to be his friends at all times and he cursed them for their adscense.

Despite being in a swirling world of magic and wonder, boredom ruled Harry's world. He lay in his bed in a state of shear uselessness. If only some evil wizard lord can rise and threaten millions. So I can once again actaully do something with my life, pondered Harry fucking Potter.

Harry wished Ginny was still alive. In a sad and almost ironic death, Ginger Ginny had tripped and fallen down the stairs. Harry was sad to lose the sweet red-bushed poon tang but he quickly found warmth with the Whores of Hogsmeade.

The thought of whores reminded Harry of his childhood. When those puny muggles, the Durselsderry's, locked them in cuboard.(Hoping he would just die) Harry found comfort in reading old perilous land and fantastical journies. When Harry came to Hogwartz and became a badass, he didn't have time for nerd shit like reading. Harry was at school, why would he waste his time on reading?

As lame as it was, Harry was still considering literature. Could it be true? Harold Potter: GodWizard, TriWizard Champion, and Master of the Deathly Hallows(Harry only tossed the Death Stick for show, he soon retrieved the elder wand and repaired it. If anyone were to even give him and funny look, he would kill them on the spot.) might be reading a book.

NO! HP screamed internally. I SHALL NOT SUCCOMB MYSELF TO SUCH FAGGOTRY SUCH AS READING. No he would not read.

He would write.

So Harold went to fetch some parchment or scrolls...or paper...whatever the hell they use to write on in the HP Universe. Well it doesn't matter. matter because Mr. Potter took one look at that paper shit and thought, Fuck no. I'm rich, I don't need this crap. And in an act of defiance, Harry swept all the quills and ink bottles off the table, shattering them on the floor.

Harry then pulled out his brand new 32GB Apple Ipad 3©. He booted up the machine that was almost as close to godliness as Harry himself. Then he brought the writing app that costs Harry ten fucking dollars. Ten dollars for a shitty Ipad writing app. Can you believe that?

Harry then spend 3 hours staring at a blank page, not knowing how to begin his story. Harry had fought many battles and had experienced many a great things. Yet he couldn't come up with an idea a for a story. Harry was feeling a little lonely which brought his mind back to whores which brought his mind to his childhood fairy tales.

I KNOW. INSTEAD OF COMING UP WITH MY OWN IDEAS AND MY OWN CHARACTERS, I'LL JUST USE SOMEONE ELSE'S. GEE PEOPLE SURE WILL LOVE MY ROMANCE DRABBLE THAT HANDS WILL PUKE ALL OVER THE PAGE, Harry thought and began to work on his brand new high end super cool 32GB Apple Ipad 3©.

Harry moaned in absolute glee as his fingers went wild on this sure masterpeice. It was a really great idea, Harry would take the world of A Ballad of Bears and Broners and take the main characters, make them all get married and have erotic gay experiences. Just what the author wanted from her fans. Harry said as he tapped out a three thousand word desciption of IsaBella's wardrobe.

In just three hours Harry had written 46 chapters and a epilouge. The story was roughly ten thousand words.

Though Harry almost awkwardly loved his new masterpiece, it actually sucked complete balls. Harry barely had a grasp on the english language. Sentences ran on for miles. Words were spelled only as Harry pleased to spell them. Not a single fuck was given. It was truley a new low for any fandom of a beloved children's series.

But wheeeeeeeere to put such a novel? Harroldin Fuckin' Podder pondered.

That's when it hit him. , the true meeting grounds for the assbergered ridddled boys and girls across the globe. Harry knew that the kids on that website would love his story.

"The gayer, the better" Dumbledore used to say about the stories on .

Harry knew his story was perfect, so I didn't even bother to look it over. He slapped the story up using his 32GB Apple Ipad 3©.

The rest is history.

the end.