I do not, in any way, shape, or form, own Harry Potter. Warning: twincest. Lots of twincest, all of the twincest. I do not believe that anything in history has ever contained half so much twincest as this fic. Also, I highly reccommend that you read the first chapter of another story of mine, Remus Lupin and the Restaurant that Attracts Annoying Customers, since it's more or less a prequel to this story. With that out of the way, please enjoy this ridiculous story!

"Um . . ." Harry said awkwardly.

"Yeah, I don't quite know how to respond to that," Ellie agreed.

"So . . . what exactly do we do now?"

There was a brief pause before: "wanna shag?"

"Oh, I fully intend to shag you to Hell and back, but I was thinking more long-term."

Harry Potter and his twin sister, Danielle, were standing (appropriately) in a graveyard, looking at the dead body of Lord Voldemort. After being jointly entered in the Tri-Wizard Tournament during their sixth year at Hogwarts, they had expected to have a bizarre and difficult year. They hadn't expected to be kidnapped, used in a re-birthing ritual to return their mortal enemy full strength, then miraculously kill him almost immediately afterwards.

"I guess we'll have to go back to school before we do anything else," Ellie said regretfully.

"Yeah, but how?" Harry asked, equally disappointed with the necessity of informing the proper authorities. Sure, he would have told them eventually either way, but he rather felt that, after killing one of the most powerful Dark wizards of all time, he and his sister deserved some time to themselves. That they wanted to fill that time by having sex was of little consequence, or so Harry felt.

Dannie, as if reading his thoughts, took a step closer to Harry. "Well, we might not have to go back right now," she whispered, sending a slight chill down his spine. "We can certainly stay until we work out how to leave."

"An hour?" Harry asked into her ear as he pulled her shirt off, running his hands up and down her back.

"Better make it two," Ellie replied, unlatching and removing his belt before pulling his body into hers.

In point of fact, they were missing for another three-and-a-half.

In hindsight, the solution of simply reusing the Portkey that had taken them to the graveyard in the first place was rather obvious, and Harry couldn't quite help but feel rather foolish at not having thought it in three-and-a-half hours, not that he felt the time had been wasted. The crowds had, mercifully, been dispersed, so the only people present to welcome them were Dumbledore, who was trying very hard indeed to appear worried, Mad-Eye Moody, who didn't even bother and seemed rather cross at their arrival, and a very flustered Cornelius Fudge, who could feel his claims of competence slowly evaporate as they became more far-fetched the longer the Potter twins were missing.

"What happened?!" Moody barked furiously the moment Dumbledore had assured himself that the twins were unharmed (much to his chagrin). If he noticed their rumpled appearances, he didn't comment. They had, after all, just come from a fight with one of the most powerful wizards of the past century.

"Voldemort came back," Harry answered, sounding remarkably unconcerned. Fudge paled noticeably (Harry and Ellie had to keep themselves from snickering), Dumbledore stood up a little straighter, and Moody refused to show any reaction whatsoever.

"I believe we should continue this conversation in my office," Dumbledore suggested. "We have much to discuss."

"Actually, Voldemort's dead," Ellie informed him. "He insisted on dueling us, and I got a lucky shot in."

"Impossible," Moody growled.

"Look, can we go over all this tomorrow?" Harry asked, a little impatiently. "We've had a pretty long night."

Ellie nodded, refusing to react to the obvious double entendre. Obvious to her, at any rate.

"Please, Harry, Danielle, it is imperative that we-"

"Get some sleep?" Ellie asked. "Yes, I quite agree, Professor."

"As do I," Harry agreed. "C'mon, Ellie." With that, the two of them set off for the school, ignoring the calls from the three adults whom they were leaving behind. Taking pity on them, Harry turned to face them briefly. "It's not that we don't think this is important," he said carefully (and untruthfully), "but we really don't have the capacity to go over everything right now. We can talk first thing in the morning."

The last bit was a lie. The twins had every intention of sleeping in, and of spending a while in bed after waking up, besides.

"Besides," Ellie added, "it's nearly midnight already. I'd say we deserve a little bed rest after what we went through." They left without another word, Dumbledore unwilling to contest their point.

They eventually got to bed, although the first hour-or-so hadn't been particularly restful.

The twins slept until just after 11:45 the next morning, and they didn't leave their suite until almost one that afternoon. In fairness to them, though, they did take a rather long time in the shower. After the previous night's activities, of both the fight-to-the-death and incestuous varieties, they were both covered in small nicks, bruises, and, in Harry's case, bite marks. The fact that the shower had an unlimited supply of hot water did nothing to decrease the amount of time they spent in it.

It was with no small amount of satisfaction that they caught sight of an uncharacteristically annoyed Dumbledore standing outside their suite, looking, for the first time that either of them could remember, impatient. They had set up extensive wards to ensure their privacy, something that they considered common sense for two people who went to a boarding school and wanted to keep the fact that they regularly shagged each other senseless a secret. Evidently they were pretty powerful, if Dumbledore himself couldn't break through them.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry said cheerily.

"Afternoon," Dumbledore corrected snappishly.

"Sorry?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Afternoon. It's already afternoon."

"Yeah, well, can you really blame us for wanting to sleep in after the night we had?" Harry asked, mentally adding, and the morning. Hot damn!

"You'd think killing the Dark Lord would earn you some time off," Ellie agreed.

"You keep saying that," Dumbledore complained. "You keep saying that you killed him, but you obviously can't have."

"Can't we have?" Harry asked, nonplussed.

"The Dark Lord is immortal!" Dumbledore snarled.

"Evidently not immortal enough to survive a Killing Curse to the face," Ellie countered, starting to get annoyed. She and Harry were used to Dumbledore's eccentricities, but this was surely taking things a bit far.

"Does that make me immortal?" Harry asked, sounding somewhat awed. Ellie slapped the back of his head, but otherwise ignored him.

Harry rubbed the back of his head while Dumbledore frowned at his antics. "Come to my office. I wish to see your memories of the events of last night."

I don't think you do, both twins thought simultaneously as they began to walk behind Dumbledore to his office. The exasperated look they shared was enough to tell them both that the other had had the same thought. Harry discreetly snaked a hand around Ellie's waist as they walked, since Dumbledore wasn't paying them any mind.

This led to Ellie doing the same, which, in turn, led to Harry slipping his hand under her shirt and rubbing her stomach with it. Ellie responded by slipping her own hand down Harry's trousers and grabbing his ass. As neither of them were paying much attention to where they were going, they were caught completely off guard when Dumbledore turned to face them outside of his office.

Even more disarming, though, was the fact that he saw the positions of their hands, registered them, and did nothing further. No comments, no demands of "kindly remove you hand from you twin brother's right buttock, Ms Potter," no nothing. Not even a raised eyebrow. It was perhaps the oddest interaction either had ever had with their headmaster, which, considering the man's personality, was rather impressive.

Taking this as a positive sign, Harry moved his hand from Ellie's stomach to run it up and down her spine, still under her shirt. Again, Dumbledore said and did nothing. Ellie experimentally re-positioned her hand so that she could grab Harry's, ah, friend, and, when Dumbledore still didn't react, did so. "Were you planning on responding to this at all, sir?" Ellie asked as she began to stroke it slowly, if only to elicit a reaction, any reaction, from the old man in front of them.

"Nope," he replied, completely unabashed. Seeing Ellie raise her eyebrows (Harry had stopped following the conversation when Ellie had grabbed him) Dumbledore let out a small laugh. "I've spent enough time around the Carrows."

"Right, well," Ellie (who had no idea who these Carrows were) said, glancing around for a private place, "it'd be a shame to stop here, so we'll be in . . . that broom cupboard if you need us." Without waiting for a response, she released her grip on what she affectionately referred to as "Little Harry," snatched up the collar of Normal Harry's shirt, and dragged him into the aforementioned closet. She had just enough presence of mind to cast a number of privacy charms before ripping Harry's shirt down the middle and wrenching it off his chest.

The two stepped out around twenty minutes later, Harry now shirtless. Neither of them had ever learned how to magically repair cloth, which seemed like something of an oversight considering how many of their clothes they had destroyed since they had started rushing off to snog each other during their fourth year.

"I didn't give you permission to leave," Dumbledore snarled, his mood evidently having flipped completely during their (admittedly lengthy) absence. "I only said that I'm used to twins shamelessly fucking each other."

"Yeah, well, how used are you to trying to drag information out of a pair of horny teenagers when one of them has a hand in the other's pants?" Harry asked irritably.

"Too used," Dumbledore growled, much to Harry and Ellie's amusement. Bloody hell did that ever explain a lot.

The twins silently followed Dumbledore into his office, no longer doing anything to hide their amorous behavior. While they still had no intention of making the full extent of their relationship common knowledge, they were rather happy to finally be able to see somebody's reaction to it: in fact, the opportunity to do so had been, for a very long while, their primary (if sole) argument in favour of going public.

And, unfortunately, that person was Dumbledore. Dumbledore who refused to react to such an obvious scandal, even when clearly and extensively baited. No. Not "extensively." "Exhaustively." What sort of headmaster just watches when one student grabs another's genitalia and starts stroking it? Well, that could depend on what exactly the title of "headmaster" referred to, one supposes. If they could have done it without implicating themselves, Harry and Ellie would have contacted the Prophet with this in a heartbeat. A heartbeat.

Alas, however, it would implicate them, so they filed it away for future use. Something they didn't file away for future use, however, and instead used immediately, was a new addition to Dumbledore's decor.

"Professor?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Yeah?" came the irate response.

"Is there a reason you have a dead body in the corner?" Ellie asked, sounding more curious than anything.

"Yeah, it adds to the Feng . . Thing."

"Firstly, I think you mean Feng Shui. Secondly, allow me to rephrase my question," Harry said, now profoundly confused. "Is there a reason you have your dead body in a corner?"

Fast as lightning, Dumbledore sent a curse at Harry, who would never have been able to dodge it if he hadn't been expecting it. Before he could do anything else, Ellie shot a stunner, a body-bind,a disarming hex, and a binding spell at him. Dumbledore dodged the first three, but was hit by the fourth, knocked over by it, and quickly hit by three stunners and a body-bind. Harry manually disarmed him for good measure.

"Wanna check if Dumbledore's actually dead?" Ellie asked, looking at Harry hopefully.

"Gross! No bloody way, sis. I'm not touching that with a twenty-foot pole."

"Speaking of twenty-foot poles," Ellie said, taking a step towards Harry.

"You do realise we have actual stuff to do, right?"

"How narcissistic of you!" Ellie exclaimed delightedly, stepping behind Harry and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I say the words 'twenty-foot pole,' any you automatically assume I'm referring to your-"

"Just check if he's really dead," Harry pleaded. "If he is, we can use the desk."

"And if he isn't?" Ellis asked, leaning forward to nibble on Harry's ear.

"Then we'll have to floo the DMLE," Harry said, his tone making it quite clear that, despite the moral implications involved, he rather hoped that Dumbledore was dead.

"Fine," Ellie muttered, releasing Harry and walking apprehensively towards the prone form of what had once been an exceedingly manipulative old man. She tentatively held his wrist with two fingers, feeling for pulse, for several seconds. Detecting none, she turned to Harry. "Yeah, he's dead."

Torn between two very unrelated thoughts, Harry chose to voice both of them in ascending order of importance. "I might feel bad about that if he hadn't spent the last six years trying to get us killed. Also, that's kinda a turnoff."

"I agree with exactly one of your points," Ellie informed him as she walked slowly towards her brother.

"I was kinda hoping you wouldn't say that," Harry muttered as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "And really hoping you would," he added, slipping his hands under her shirt and unlatching her bra while he took several steps forward, gently lowering his twin onto the desk that had so recently been Dumbledore's.

It was at that exact moment that Dumbledore (the not-dead one), still bound, petrified, and stunned, started transforming, his body convulsing noticeably as it did, even through the body-bind.

"Now that," Harry said regretfully, "is a turnoff."

"Yeah," Ellie sighed. Not even the Potter twins, incorrigible sex-fiends that they were, could deny that watching a man writhing in pain as he transformed from a very old person to a much younger one was something of a mood killer. And really, as much as they claimed otherwise, the presence of Dumbledore's corpse in the corner was pretty unhelpful in and of itself. The only difference was, the negatives of that particular detail didn't (in their own, twisted, minds) outweigh the positives of shagging in the headmaster's office. The polyjuice thing, on the other hand, absolutely did.

"So we floo call the DMLE, then? Harry asked, sounding highly unenthusiastic, as he released Ellie and took a step back.

Ellie nodded sadly as she hopped off the desk and picked her bra up off the floor. "One thing, though," she said, looking at the young man on the slumped on the floor. "They'll probably question him with veritaserum . . ."

"And if they do, he'll tell the Ministry about us," Harry finished, fixing the man, whoever he was, with a hateful glare. "We'll have to invoke the whole 'not revealing irrelevant details discovered over the course of an investigation' thing."

"And then the only ones who'll know will be whoever hears his confession directly. They won't even be able to talk about it with each other. Nice."

"I have my moments," Harry answered smugly.

"Few and far between though they are," Ellie added.

Harry elected to ignore this as he made his way towards the fireplace, which, being Dumbledore's, was charmed so that only the people using it could hear the entire conversation: Ellie wouldn't be able to hear whoever was on the Ministry's side of the connection, nor could anyone, other than the first person to acknowledge him, on the Ministry's side hear Harry.

"Hey, Tonks," Ellie heard Harry say. "Yep, we got a bit of a situation here. . . . Don't tell anybody but Bones what I'm about to tell you. . . . Don't be stupid, of course it isn't. . . . Dumbledore's dead. . . . Yes, proper dead, is there any other kind? . . . Just send Bones over. Alone. . . . Well fuck you, too! . . . Thanks, Tonks. Love ya!

"Amelia Bones'll be here in a few minutes," Harry said, puling his head out of the fireplace and turning to face his sister.

"Who do you think he is?"

"Someone who really knows how to kill a moment," Harry answered, eyeing the man distastefully. "What I wanna know is, how'd he take Dumbledore out? He wasn't a exactly helpless, was he?"

"Who wasn't?" asked a new voice. Turning to face the fireplace, both twins watched as Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE, stepped out of it.

"Dumbledore," Harry and Ellie replied in unison, pointing over to the corner where the corpse of the man in question was still located.

"What happened?" Bones asked, striding over to his un-moving body.

"That man there," Harry said, indicating the man lying on the ground, "came to our suite-"

"You have your own suite?" Bones asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, we got it in our fourth year because people wouldn't leave us alone about our past," Ellie told her. "That was when Dumbledore finally agreed that we had a right to privacy and that the only way we could get it would be if we moved into one of the suites for students with special circumstances."

"I believe those circumstances are usually the fact that the suite's inhabitants are married, Ms Potter," Bones said, disapproval perfectly evident in her tone and facial expression.

"Yeah, well, even so, we needed a place where we wouldn't be hounded constantly, and that was the only option. Sure there's only one bedroom, but we're twins: we've had to share a room our whole lives." Harry completely neglected to mention that, as soon as they figured out how, they had transfigured the twin beds they had been provided with into a single, much larger, one. Bones would probably figure it out sooner rather than later, anyways. She was an inconveniently sharp woman, one of very few legitimately competent people that the Ministry employed.

"I suppose I see the logic in that," Bones conceded, albeit reluctantly. "Continue."

"Well, like I was saying," Harry started again, "that man over there came to our suite disguised as Dumbledore. He led us up here to talk to us about what happened last night-"

"Which is something else I expect full details on," Bones informed them humorlessly.

"-and when we asked why he had Dumbledore's dead body in the corner, he attacked us. We managed to bind, stun, petrify, and disarm him, and he transformed while we were trying to figure out what to do."

"I take it there's more to this story?" Bones asked, eyeing the twins with open suspicion.

"Yes, but before we continue, we would like to invoke the ancient magic that prevents you, as an investigator, from discussing, revealing, or acting upon any information you receive that isn't directly connected to this man's criminal activities over the course of your investigation of said activities," Ellie said seriously.

"Do I want to know why the two of you feel the need to invoke said magic?" Amelia asked warily.

"No you don't, but I can assure you that we haven't done anything criminal. Just stuff that most people, yourself included, are unlikely to approve of."

Bones frowned, but said, "I, Amelia Bones, acknowledge your invocation of said magics." The room was lit with a purple glow before she next spoke. "But I would also like to inform you both that I wouldn't have done that, had I any choice in the matter."

"That doesn't surprise us," Ellie said unconcernedly.

"Very well. Please stand back." Bones stepped forward and undid all the spells on the man save for the binding spell. He blinked up at her blearily before she kicked him in the shin. Taking advantage of his opening his mouth in surprise and pain, she placed three drops of what the twins recognised as Veritaserum onto his tongue.

What followed was a very lengthy, though interesting, explanation of how the man (Barty Crouch Jr) escaped Azkaban, spent years being imprisoned by his father, eventually broke free of his father's control, and left to join up with Voldemort. Upon reaching Voldemort, he and Peter Pettigrew (the mention of his name led to an entirely new line of questioning, one which revealed Sirius' innocence and acquittal. Pity he was a bit too dead to enjoy it.) plotted to kidnap the twins and use them in a re-birthing ritual, which necessitated Crouch's impersonation of Mad-Eye Moody all year.

"Then these two came back four-and-a-half hours later, claiming to have killed the Dark Lord. I took Dumbledore by surprise and killed him while his back was turned, then stole some of hairs to use in Polyjuice Potion. After that, I went to get the Potters, but they wouldn't leave their suite until 1:00 this afternoon, and I was nearly out of Potions that had Dumbledore's hairs. I didn't expect them to take so long. So when they stopped to shag in a broom cupboard, I ran back here to get more hairs from the old man.

"After that, we came back here, they noticed his body, and I tried to kill the boy. He dodged and the girl hit me with an incarcerous. Then they both hit me with more spells and the next thing I was aware of was you waking me up," he finished.

"Well," Bones said as she stunned Crouch, "he's clearly insane."

"No, that's all true," Ellie told her, sounding remarkably unperturbed.

"But-"

"Well, we obviously don't know about all of it, but we know for a fact that some bits are true, so the rest probably is, too," Harry interrupted.

"Like the part about Pettigrew," Ellie said. "We told Fudge about it three years ago, but he didn't believe use and had Sirius executed, anyways. He was innocent, by the way."

"And we were definitely taken to a graveyard yesterday, we were missing for four-and-a-half hours, we didn't leave our suite until 1:00 this afternoon, we stopped in a broom cupboard to shag, we noticed Dumbledore's body on the floor, he attacked us, and we bound, stunned, petrified, stunned again, and disarmed him. In that order," Harry rattled off merrily.

Bones just stared at them. When it became clear that she wouldn't respond without prompting, Ellie gave her a look. "Anything you want to say to all that, Madam Bones? Anything at all?"

Bones shook her head rather violently before answering. "You two are-"

"In an incestuous relationship?" Harry asked, smiling cheekily at her. She nodded mutely. "Yup," Harry reported casually.

"And He Who Must Not Be Named returned to power last night? And you killed him in under four-and-a-half hours?"

"Well," Ellie said, looking at Harry for confirmation, "the ritual took about forty-five, and we killed him in another fifteen minutes."

"And you spent the next," Bones paused to do some quick math, "210 minutes doing what exactly?"

Rather than responding, Harry took a step forward so that he was standing directly behind his sister and wrapped his arms around her waist. Ellie leaned back and gave a contented sigh, at which Bones bristled slightly, as though personally offended.

"So that's why you invoked the confidentiality clauses?" she snarled incredulously. The twins nodded, not seeing a problem with this. "That's disgusting," she said, looking thoroughly put out.

"Don't get all high and mighty with us!" Ellie snapped. "Purebloods have been intentionally inbreeding for a millennium to avoid intermixing with muggles! At least we're doing this out of love, rather than in a deliberate attempt to minimise the gene pool!"*

"I believe your niece, Susan Bones, is betrothed to Neville Longbottom?" Harry asked. Bones nodded grudgingly. "As I understand it, Susan's father is your brother, and her mother is Alice Longbottom's, nee Abbot, sister? And there's a second contract with Hanna Abbot, who's father was the oldest of the three siblings?" Again, she nodded, her irritation quite evident. "So multiple first cousins are fine, but siblings are where we draw the line?"

"It's different!" Bones snapped.

"Yeah, it is," Ellie confirmed smugly. "We chose this."

"And we'd choose it again," Harry added seriously. "Over and over and bleeding over again."

"Disgusting," Bones sneered again.

"Do forgive me," Ellie said, now starting to get seriously annoyed, and not a little impressed, with the woman's hypocrisy. "But I believe we were discussing a kidnapping, a murder, and the death of a notorious terrorist?"

For being the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones was distinctly unabashed at having to be told to do her job my a girl at least thirty-five years her junior.

"I'll summon my team," Bones managed to snarl before turning on her heel and walking into the fireplace. She forgot to throw any floo powder in first, which resulted in an interesting smell and a scream of inarticulate rage before she threw Dumbledore's entire box of floo powder into the fireplace and stormed into it.

"Should we be concerned about that?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Meh," Ellie said, shrugging unconcernedly. "Wanna go get something to eat?"

"Damn straight."

And with that, the two of them left Dumbledore's office to go to the kitchens, where the house elves were only too happy to stuff them senseless.

* I should probably take this opportunity to point out that the character's views don't reflect my own, and that Harry and Ellie's attempts to defend their relationships are those of the characters, not the author. That's also the reason the narration doesn't have any real commentary on the issue: it's based on the twins' perspective, and they don't see any issues with what they're doing. Finally, Bones would probably struggle to explain why exactly she has no issue with three first cousins marrying, but that isn't because I the author am totes fine with it, it's because she's from a society where it isn't considered taboo, and she therefore sees no issue with it.

AN: Didja read the first chapter of RLatRtAAC? (Long title, huh?) If not, there's a lot of stuff that won't make sense here. Or rather, there's one very glaring thing that won't make any sense here, that being Harry and Ellie's relationship, which I explained in that story's AN. I'd like to restate, though, just for safety, that I'm not condoning incest, just writing a story where it happens. Let's be honest here, it has comedic potential, we just don't like to see it because it's culturally unacceptable to find this sort of thing funny. That said, I personally find it hilarious, so whatever.

Just some things I'd like to clarify: the prophecy explicitly uses male pronouns to describe "The One With the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord," so Harry is still The Boy Who Lived. This story uses a somewhat crazed Dumbledore who was convinced that Harry and Ellie were evil incarnate, and thus did everything he could to get them killed, the reason being that unreasonable and insane Dumbledore is just funny to me. This story, if I ever choose to continue it, will focus on Harry and Ellie breaking into the Death Eaters' homes and stealing everything that isn't bolted down (as well as several things that are bolted down); partly for their entertainment, partly to cripple a potentially dangerous faction, and partly to give the bastards their comeuppance, since the ministry is more interested in the relative size of one's bank account than whether or not a person has committed multiple heinous crimes, Sirius evidently being the sole exception.

Something I really love about the twins is just how incredibly messed up their priorities are: everything is a big joke to them, up to and including Voldemort himself, but the moment someone questions their relationship, they get insanely pissed off. It makes them somewhat unpredictable and insanely fun to write, so who knows, I may wind up coming back to this story a year or so down the line. Regardless of my future plans, happy holidays! Thanks for reading! Duke out!

P.S. Harry and Tonks' conversation was of the "vitriolic best buds" variety: Harry wasn't flirting with Tonks, nor was he sincerely telling her to fuck off.