A/N- I was feeling very sick and very sorry for myself, and I knew that if I tried to do my homework, I'd do a pretty crappy job of it. So I thought that I could use something funny to read. Unfortunately, I have no internet connection at this house so I buckled up and wrote myself something. Think of every cliché ever used…well, I'm going to do the opposite. I was going to have Harry sort of involved in it, but I thought that I would bring him back and have him the normal one and everybody else as clichéd.

So here's a Harry that… has normal male nightmares, wasn't abused by his Uncle, can't cook, hates being called 'pup', did NOT try to commit suicide, doesn't stutter when Sirius is mentioned, sure as hell isn't the Heir to the founders and Merlin, doesn't use his penis as a wand, punches a goblin in the face, doesn't own any secret family vaults, definitely doesn't find Bellatrix attractive and didn't find out that Dumbledore was manipulative and diguise himself to sneak off to Diagon Alley where he didn't buy an illegal Time Turner and Dark Arts books from Knocturn Alley.

NOTE: May contain references to Rubber Bands

It was past midnight and it was dark and gloomy, as it tends to get when night comes around. There was a bedroom on the first floor of a very bland sort of house surrounded by multitudes of other bland houses, each with a bland murky brown door and a anything-but-bland new $60,000 BMW in the driveway. This was a rather common practice, putting bedrooms on the first floor of houses, because since the ground floor was filled up with rooms like kitchens and lounge rooms, there was no room for the bedroom, and trying to put one in the ground out the back was a good theory and all, until you ran into a pregnant gopher whose temper rivaled the worst mood a woman could get on PMS.

In this bedroom on the first floor of a bland house that was surrounded by lots of other bland houses and shiny BMW's, lived a rather strange boy. This boy was strange like most teenage boys weren't strange in that he had a body mass that rivaled a small Killer Whale, and was so fat that given enough liposuction, he could be converted into enough soap to wash the entire African population. Sure, they would still be starving, but at least they would be shiny and sparkling as they starved.

In the bedroom next to this strange boy was another strange boy, but in an entirely different way. No, this boy was not fat; in fact he was kind of thin in a sort of scrawny midget way. He didn't have a third arm, or a diseased nose, and his face wasn't covered in a large quantity of pimples that could be 'milked' to lubricate a thousand anything-but-bland new $60,000 BMW's, like the boy from across the road. Rather, this boy was strange because of the school he went to and what happened at this school.

Before one gets the idea of a teacher-student sex-scandal, the type which seemed to be popping up everyday all over the world in such a large quantity that it was only inevitable before a movie director decided to write a three hour movie on the hurts and joys of such illicit affairs, which would make women weepy and suddenly think,

'Hang on, maybe teacher-student relationships aren't so bad…' like the new American movie, something to do with mountains, except that had gay people in it, in which the people had absolutely nothing to do with jolliness or merriness but rather the appreciation of the male rectum. Ignoring the fact that it was currently 1995, and said movie was not due to appear for another eleven years, the plot will move on.

This boy was strange because at his school, his Headmaster dressed up in purple robes with silver stars sewn on them and was constantly wearing mismatched socks, while his other professors numbered among the strange, including one who appeared to be some kind of stunted dwarf, another who was half-cat, one who wore black all of the time and had a permanent scowl on his face and seven different kinds of fungi breeding in his hair, one who would put Mike Tyson to shame and one who lived in a tower for most of the year. No, this school was not filled with mismatched rejects from various fairy tales, it was run by wizards and witches who taught aspiring wizards and witches to become just like them. Go figure.

So this boy was an aspiring wizard, which makes him stranger than most teenage boys. However, there were similarities in that this boy thought that nobody understood him (Like Goths), thought that there were evil demonic forces out to get him (Like Goths), cried, thought the government was out to get him (Like Hippies), constantly made 'magic' potions (Again like Hippies) and wore a fancy version of a dress for most of the year. (Like Cross-dressers…but we won't go there) He was also depressed, lonely, sad, frustrated, bored, and had a rather ugly disfigurement in the shape of a lightning bolt on his pasty skin. Nearby on the table, there was a rubber band.

Harry squirmed in his bed, sweat beading down his skin and the white sheets wrapped around his thin frame. Suddenly his screamed, a loud and wailing scream that had half the neighborhood up to glare at number four Privet Drive and the other half to check on their anything-but-bland BMW's. Harry's eyes shot open and he gasped, shooting upright in bed. As he wiped the sweat from his face, the floor started shaking. Dust flittered from the roof and on the bedside table, a glass of water shook, ripples forming. Harry grimaced and drew back as the rumbling got louder, and louder, until his door slammed open.

"WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE BOY!" Uncle Vernon shouted. His three chins wobbled and his small beady eyes were…small and beady. His face was also a rather interesting shade of purple, so interesting that Harry couldn't help but stare.

"Is that normal?" Harry just had to ask, gesturing to the purple face.

Vernon grimaced. "YOUR AUNT THOUGHT THAT I WAS GETTING WRINKLES AND BOUGHT ME SOME PASTE!" He boomed. Outside the house, there were tired groans of anger and annoyance.

Harry ducked behind the bed quickly, and waited for the inevitable. After a few seconds, he peeked out, his eyes confused. "Strange."

"WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU DOING BOY?" Vernon boomed again, and appeared surprise to see Harry flinch in expectation. "YOU THINK I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU? DO YOU THINK THAT I'M GOING TO TAKE MY BELT OFF AND WHIP YOU, BEFORE PULLING DOWN MY PANTS AND MOLESTING YOU? DO YOU THINK THAT I'M GOING TO USE YOU AS A PUNCHING BAG?"

"No, you keep 'booming', I'm just waiting for you to explode." Harry replied honestly. He could still here the neighbors stirring; they were probably trying to put their pillows over their heads.

Vernon growled angrily. "WHEN I 'BOOM', IT IS A METHAPHORIC EXPRESSION THAT I AM YELLING VERY LOUDLY! THE LITERAL TERM IS NOT MEANT TO BE IMPLIED, RATHER, ACCORDING TO THE OXFORD DICTIONARY, THE TERM 'BOOM' IS MEANT TO INDICATE THAT I AM 'TO YELL OR SCREAM SOMETHING IN A LOUD AND ANGRY MANNER'! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

"OH, AND SHUT UP WITH YOUR DAMN SCREAMING!" Vernon added, booming for extra measure.

"For God's Sakes Vernon, Shut the fuck up!" Somebody screamed from outside.

"SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP OVER HERE!" Vernon screamed back.

"Shut the fuck up, you fat fuck!" A woman yelled this time.

"SUCK MY DICK WOMAN!"

"Jesus Christ man! Stop your damn yelling!" Another man screamed. "It's 1am in the morning!"

"SHUT UP YOU HOMOXEXUAL!" Vernon bellowed angrily.

Suddenly there was a small pop and Remus Lupin apparated into the room. His robes were shabby and patched and his hair was shabby and grey and his shoes were shabby and generally, the wizard just generated a sense of shabbiness.

"What's going on here?" He asked mildly, because he was such a mild man. He used mildness like a duck used water; he was just so mild, except for every fourth weekend where he would go outside, an animal rage and lust burning through his body, his eyes gleaming brightly in the night and he would buy himself a packet of condoms then walk to the red-light district to burn away his lust. Remus Lupin was a very lonely man. Oh, and he was a werewolf as well.

"ANOTHER FREAK! WHY AM I SURROUNDED BY FREAKS!

"Because you are a freak Vernon!" A neighbor shouted, and something heavy and solid slammed on the front door.

Vernon's eyes bulged and he stormed from the room, intent on going outside and showing the nobodies out there a lesson or two in manners. This left Remus and Harry alone.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Remus asked mildly.

Harry nodded slowly.

"Was it Voldemort?" Remus asked mildly.

Harry shook his head slowly.

"Was it Sirius?" Remus asked gently, which is just another form of mildness when you think about.

Harry shook his head.

"Was it the Third Task? The Department of Mysteries, The Philosopher's Stone, the Basilisk, The Chamber of Secrets, Tom Riddle, The Mirror of Erised, Lucius Malfoy, the Death Eaters, The Second Task, Aragog, Quirrell, vampires, werewolves, dementors, your parents or your Uncle and Aunt?" Remus questioned. At Harry's shake, he frowned, but only a mild. "What was it then? What could have had you screaming from your bed?"

"I dreamt that a flock of Veela made me their love slave." Harry answered quietly.

"That's it? Harry, that doesn't seem like such a bad thing." Remus answered slowly.

"It is when your penis falls off through overuse." Harry answered sourly.

Remus stared at him for a second, then disapparated.

The next morning, Harry cooked the Dursley's breakfast. He had been cooking for them ever since he had grown big enough to reach the stove. A random stranger might think that this means that Harry was a great cook, but in actual fact, he sucked. Badly. In all of this time, he had never gotten any better. There was any specific area that he was lacking in; it was more of the entire broad spectrum of cooking that he was terrible in. Still, Uncle Vernon and Dudley ate anything that didn't move, and a few things that did, while Aunt Petunia was so thin that she only needed the aroma of burnt food to be satiated.

After eating a rather burnt pierce of charcoal that once resembled toast, Harry wandered over to the front door, where Aunt Petunia was standing. Next to her lay her large Spy kit, complete with a black telescope, black binoculars, black wire taps and phone taps, a black wireless satellite internet connection, complete with the new version of Hack!Me 95 in the deluxe black version, and a small stethoscope, which surprise surprise, was also black. There was also a small rubber band in the kit.

"Zulu Alpha Foxtrot, this is Petty One-Dash-Nine. Target is in range." Petunia barked into a small radio handset as she peered past the drawn blinds.

"Copy that Petty." Came the voice on the other end of the radio, which was the weedy voice of Ms Smith, who was not a former KGB spy. No she wasn't a former KGB spy at all, who told you that she was a former KGB spy? The KGB had nothing to do with Mrs Smith.

Harry watched bemusedly as Aunt Petunia scribbled down something in a small black notebook, then turned around and glared at Harry.

"Let me guess, you want me to weed the garden...again, for the second day in a row. Of course, I only weeded the garden yesterday after I painted the door…again, for the third time in a row. Is there any other useless chores you want me to do repeatedly?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"Don't be stupid!" Petunia snapped. "I want you to clean the pool!"

"We don't have a pool," Harry said, a frown on his face.

"You will do what I told you to do!" Petunia shrieked, not in a high pitch but rather a low baritone. She stalked off, leaving Harry to stare at her retreating back.

"She's a bass!" Harry muttered in surprise.

Since he had nothing to do, Harry stepped out of the house, delicately avoiding the brick and broken glass bottles that had been hurled at the house door at roughly 1am. The sun was shining and the day was gloomy and overcast. For a moment, Harry frowned at the slight contradiction but shrugged it away. The street was as bland as usually, and the shiny BMW's that Harry liked staring at were gone, their owners at work. Harry jumped down the steps and sighed in boredom.

Suddenly he stiffened as he turned towards a spot on the hedge. There was something wrong with it, something that was wrong. Was it the leaves? No, they were as green as ever? Maybe it was the trimming? No, it was all even. Maybe it was the branches? No, they were still pink…pink?

"Tonks?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Wotcher Harry," Came a cheerful reply as a completely green Tonks with spiky pink hair walked from the Hedge. Her clothes were green, her skin was green and even the whites of her eyes were green. "What gave it away?"

"It's the wrong shade of green," Harry replied sarcastically, but Tonk's nodded thoughtfully.

"So, what's happening Pup?" She asked, only to grunt in surprise as Harry punched her in the mouth. "Merlin's Sixth Toe! What was that for?"

"Do I look like a dog to you?" Harry asked angrily. "Do I wear a collar? Do I have fleas? Do I eat Chum? Do I go whacko for Schmacko's? Do I go around and sniff other people's butts?"

"But Sirius used to call you that all of the time!" Tonks protested.

"Yeah, and I used to hit him as well." Harry shot back. Nearby on the driveway lay a rubber band.

Giving Harry a withering glare, Tonks rubbed her jaw. "Anyway, you're leaving your relatives today. Go and pack, and come back down in five minutes."

"In the middle of broad overcast sunshine?" Harry asked, then he frowned again as he tried to puzzle it out. "It's a little different than last year, isn't it?"

"Well, Hestia Jones was new so we wanted to make a good impression." Tonks answered. "And there was something romantic about riding on a broomstick alongside of Remus while basking in the moonlight. He is so dreamy sometimes. I mean, sure, he gets a little hairy now and then, but it's okay! Besides, do you know how long a werewolf's tongue is? He could probably part my thighs with his wet nose and…Hello? Harry? Where did you go?"

After a hasty minutes packing, Harry went downstairs, hauling his trunk and Owl Cage. Hedwig, who had continentally been hunting until this very second, flew through the open kitchen window where Uncle Vernon was sitting at the table. (When he should have been at work and he wasn't even though a few minutes ago he was said to have been at work in his not-so-bland BMW, but most likely the writer forgot this and added him anyway)

"Hang on, weren't you…" Harry trailed off as his Uncle purpled, this time because the heart was pumping more blood into the blood vessels were in his cheeks rather than any sort of paste that Aunt Petunia may have bought him to stop his wrinkles.

"WHAT IS THAT BLASTED BIRD DOING?" He roared, spittle flying from his mouth and onto the floor.

"Um…it's flying. That's what birds generally do."

"I THOUGHT THAT DRATTED THING HAD DIED, SINCE I HADN'T HEARD IT SINCE LAST SUMMER!" Uncle Vernon boomed this time, the metaphorical type of boom, not the C4-in-the-stomach boom, though the C4-in-the-stomach boom would have probably resulted in less spittle, happy neighbors and the bankruptcy of the local earmuff store.

"She was out hunting." Harry explained.

"OH? DID YOU LET HER OUT? DID YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE CHAINED YOUR BIRDCAGE WITH THE OWL AS PRISONER, THEN COME INTO YOUR ROOM LATE AT NIGHT WHEN IT MAKES A NOISE AND ABUSE YOU WITH WHIPS AND CHAINS? DID YOU THINK I WOULD MOLEST YOU AND BRAND THE WORD 'FREAK' IN YOUR STOMACH AND BACK?" Uncle Vernon boomed.

"No, I thought that she might be hungry." Harry answered slowly, eying Vernon curiously. "That and I thought Dudley might eat her. He ate a sparrow the other day, so… yeah…"

Vernon spluttered and seethed and fumed and raged and in general was very angry.

"Will you just shut the fuck up you big piece of shit?" A neighbor yelled faintly, and the kitchen window smashed as a brick broke through it and slammed into Uncle Vernon's head. Through a set of strange circumstances, the shards of glass clattered onto the kitchen sink, which caused enough vibration to upset a mug of hot tea, which spilt onto the microwave, which hummed and glowed and gave a nearby ant human intelligence as well shorting out, which caused a spark to leap out to the kettle, which tipped over onto the dish rack, where a drying sharp knife fell onto the ground at an exact angle of 63 degrees and at a velocity 6.282 meters a second, which by sheer fate, is 2 times Pie, which caused the knife to refract off the ground and hit a tumbling Vernon on the head. It would all have gone well if Vernon hadn't weighed an exact 161 Kilograms, which caused just enough seismic vibration to ripple the thermal air flows from a nearby heater vent that gave the bouncing knife enough momentum to slice into Harry's wrist as he bought it up to protect his face.

As the cut started bleeding, Harry felt extremely woozy and staggered back, clutching his wrist and moaning. He collapsed onto the ground and the world went dark for him. His last view was an inconspicuous looking rubber band lying on the ground.

Just as a little note of curiosity, remember the ant that had been struck by the microwave beam and had been given human intelligence? Well, it fled the house and went back to its hive, where it overthrew the Ant Monarchy and chopped off its queen's head. It proclaimed all Ant Hills as Republics and chopped off any ant's head that disagreed. After a few years, it had connected to every ant hill in the world and had formed a plan to overthrow the humans of Earth. It was an extremely good plan, well thought out and well detailed, with many contingency plans arranged. It was so good that the billions of mindless Ants were able to understand it, and the little war between Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter would have meant nothing because in six years time the world would have been ruled by Ants. Luckily, the intelligent Ant went for a walk one day and was wounded when struck by an Ant-sized version of a rubber band. It did an Ant version of a limp, crawled on an apple cake, where it was promptly eaten by Dudley Dursley. In a way, Dudley Dursley saved the world.

Harry groaned in pain as he opened his eyes. Faces swam above him, appearing concerned and anxious, and he could recognize Dumbledore.

"I had a dream about you," Harry mumbled, gesturing to Dumbledore. "In the dream, you pretended to be nice but you were manipulative and evil and you stole money from my large and extensive Bank Vaults, but I found out and I rebelled and bought a whole stack of books and trained in the summer and managed to kill Voldemort, embarrass you, make Fudge turn purple and disown my friends, because they were spying on me for you."

"That's sounds like an interesting dream," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. It wasn't a twinkle twinkling, like a Christmas tree at Christmas time or an airport runway; it was more of a reflected light twinkle. Contrary to popular belief, the twinkle had nothing to do with Legilimency; rather it was due to an unfortunate accident that involved a 1935 Ford, two streetlights, a half-opened chocolate bar and a drunk wizard who also managed to gain a rather detailed map of the London Underground branded onto his left knee as well as twinkle eyes.

"Nah, it was pretty stupid." Harry muttered and yawned. He felt a twinge in his left arm and looked down to see a bandage wrapped around it. Wrapped around this bandage was a rubber band. "So Tonks found me then?" He asked.

Mrs Weasley, who hadn't been mentioned before but was one of the faces that had swam…metaphorically, of course, above him when he was waking up, surged forward with tears in her eyes. "Oh Harry!" She bawled and grabbed the skinny teenage boy, pressing him against her bosom. Harry gagged and tried to move his head but she clasped it down harder, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his mouth was pressed against the breast of his best-friends Mum.

"Ddd, fff u stic, ccl 3" Harry garbled, or 'God, if you exist, Kill me!"

"What dear?" Molly asked, tears running down her cheeks.

"O seg, Ddd fff u stic, KILL ME!" Harry gasped for breath as Molly moved him away.

"Oh no!" Molly gasped in horror. "Harry, you don't still want to kill yourself, do you?"

"I meant that…er…what? Kill who now?" Harry asked in confusion.

"It wasn't your fault Harry!" Molly wailed and was about to crush him again when Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder, restraining her.

"Um…thank you?" Harry offered half-heartedly. "It…um…It wasn't your fault either?"

"Blame You-Know-Who! It's his fault that S-Sirius is dead!" Molly wailed, before gasping out loud and covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes shining disbelief and self-blame in them. "I'm so sorry Harry! I didn't mean to say his name!"

"What, Sirius?" Harry asked.

Suddenly the door opened and three people ran inside. One was a bushy haired girl, the other was a tall lanky redhead and the last was a petite redhead.

"Ron, Hermione, Ginny!" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried out, her eyes filling with tears.

"Mate, that was bloody stupid!" Ron snapped angrily, but a glimmer of worry sparked in his eyes. This spark had absolutely nothing to do with Dumbledore's twinkle; they weren't related at all, not even distant cousins. If the Spark and the Twinkle were to walk down the street and into a pub, they would ignore each other because they were both male and the Spark would be interested in the rather buxom Jolt in the corner while the Twinkle would be flirting rather miserably with the Shine behind the bar.

"Harry James Potter!" Ginny shrieked and raised her hand. Harry ducked to avoid a nasty slap and fumbled around for something as Ginny reared back again. He found a pillow and with as Ginny bought her hand down again, he pulled out the pillow and caught her palm.

"What the hell is going on?" Harry growled angrily.

"They are merely concerned about your attempted suicide," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Do try not to off yourself in Headquarters. Good day Harry,"

"I'm stilled pissed off at you," Harry called out to his retreating back as the aged man.

"I better go and start lunch." Molly sniffed, giving Harry one last sad look.

That left a weepy Hermione, an irate Ron and a bitchy Ginny still in the room.

"I did not try to commit suicide." Harry stated before they said anything.

"Harry, you cut your wrist vein. If Tonks hadn't come in when she did…" Ron started hesitantly.

"It wasn't your fault!" Hermione said, wiping her tears away. "S-Sirius didn't die because of you,"

"I know." Harry said frankly.

"He's in denial," Hermione said and started sobbing on Ron's shoulder.

"Come on Mate, would S-Sirius want to see you like this?" Ron asked desperately.

"What, surrounded by crackpots? I don't think so!" Harry muttered.

"We all care for you Harry James Potter! Don't do this; S-Sirius wouldn't want you to!" Ginny said, her brown eyes burning with determination. Note: Again, this is a metaphorical thing. In fact, let's just assume that all references to eyes and shines, sparks and fire-related words are metaphorical, save for Dumbledore's twinkling, which is real due to a very stupid accident that Dumbledore had vowed never to tell anybody and had been very angry with his brother when he did tell somebody about it and obliviated that somebody and started rumors that his brother had a thing for goats.

"I love you!"

"S-Sirius died how he wanted to, in a blaze of glory!" Hermione added.

"You're my hero!"

"Yeah Mate! S-Sirius hated being cooped up in here. At least he got to see you and do what he loved before he died!"

"I want your babies!"

Harry frowned and stared at Ginny. "Could you say that again please? I…I really want to make sure you didn't say what I thought you said."

"I said, S-Sirius would be disappointed." Ginny said, meeting Harry's gaze with a challenging stare. She flicked her fiery hair over her shoulder. To be politically correct, the hair in question was not really on fire but rather a striking shade of red that is described as being fiery due to its colour.

"Look at me! I'm S-S-S-S-Stuttering S-S-Sam. I like S-S-S-Singing and S-S-S-S-S-Snow and S-S-S-S-Sea S-S-S-Shells!" Harry jiggled sarcastically, waving his hands in the air. "How about this? S-S-S-Shut the hell up and help me from this bed!"

At the lunch table, things were as quiet as the unfortunate sparrow that Dudley Dursley had once eaten one grey morning. Molly and Hermione were weepy, Ron and Remus were concerned and Ginny and Tonks were angry. The rest of the table really didn't care but could see the tension between the Harry and the above abovementioned characters, that is, they couldn't really see the tension, they were just aware of it.

"So…" Harry said, breaking the silence. "This is nice. What is it, Chicken?"

"It's the pepper shaker dear," Molly said quietly, her voice trembling.

"Ah. I thought it was a little bit spicy." Harry said and put down the shaker, clearly expecting a laugh from at least one person from the table. Nobody made a sound. He frowned. "Jeez, who died?"

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake.

"He's in denial!" Hermione gasped and burst into tears. Ron comforted her, while Ginny stared at Harry angrily.

"Harry James Potter! You can't ignore the truth forever…" Ginny started.

"I know."

"S-Sirius is dead…"

"I know."

"I know you feel bad…"

"Of course I feel bad, My Godfather is dead!"

"But you can't blame yourself…"

"I don't!"

"You just have to accept the fact that he's not coming back!"

"Merlin!" Harry shouted and jumped to his feet, thrusting his arm vaguely towards the front door. "Look! It's Sirius! He's back! Oh my God! I can't believe…Nah, I'm just kidding!"

He sat down, grinning slightly at his own joke as he peeled a rubber band off his lunch and threw it aside.

"Why would you try to kill yourself?" Bill asked.

"I didn't! Somebody threw a brick at Uncle Vernon, which smashed through the window and made a cup of tea tip on the microwave which zapped the kettle which…What the hell makes you think I would commit suicide anyway?" Harry asked angrily.

"Well, You parents died, Cedric died, Sirius died, your relatives hate you, the Hogwarts students can't make up their mind if they hate you or not, the Daily Prophet hates you, Voldemort hates you, Malfoy hates you, the Death Eaters hates you, Rita Skeeter hates you, Aragog hates you…we'll just say a lot of people hate you." Bill answered. "You also have bad nightmares, which is a sign of depression."

"The nightmare wasn't about Sirius; it was much, much worse." Harry shuddered.

"Was it Voldemort?" Albus Dumbledore suddenly leant forward, his eyes piercing into Harry. Note: Read the above Note to find out why Harry was not literally impaled on a pair of eyeballs.

"It was Veela." Harry said, shuddering. "No offence Fleur."

"Zere zis zno zoffenze zaken," Fleur said airily.

"Veela? How are Veela nightmares?" Tonks asked in confusion. Bill however, had a look of understanding on his face, as did all of the other males at the table.

"Ah. Let me guess, you were a love slave to a flock of Veela and your penis fell off." Bill said in comprehension. He noticed the look of surprise on Harry's face and shrugged. "It's a common theme. All teenage boys have this dream."

A few hours later, Harry was walking past a room when he saw Ginny reading a book, her eyes wide with excitement. Frowning, he walked in. Once everybody had gotten over the whole 'Harry tried to kill himself thing' even though it was more of a 'Harry did NOT try to kill himself, why won't you morons listen to me thing' the reception had been quite nice. Hermione babbled on about her books, Ron talked about the Cannons and Ginny tried to act like a sophisticated woman and failed miserably.

"What'cha reading?" Harry asked curiously.

Ginny looked up. "It's a really good book called Magical Inheritance. The main character, Hailey, turns sixteen and suddenly discovers that she is the Heir to the six founders of her ancient school, and the Heir to the most powerful Witch of all time. She gets all kind of cool powers, like elemental powers and Multianimagus and beastspeaking and all that sort of stuff. She then discovers that there is an evil Witch that is trying to kill her and she goes back to school; falls in love with her best friend's sibling and defeats the Evil Witch and have babies! Lots and lots of babies!"

"It sounds kind of stupid to me." Harry remarked.

Ginny glared at him. "Shut up!" She said. Suddenly her eyes narrowed. "Isn't it your birthday tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Um…yes." Harry said slowly.

"What if this happens to you?" Ginny asked excitedly. "Merlin's underrated half-sister! You could be the Heir of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Merlin!"

"Yeah, I might also be a possible contender for the throne of France, but it isn't likely!" Harry said, snorting.

"Imagine the cool powers you're going to get!" Ginny said, before she sighed dreamily. "And you might fall in love with your best friend's sibling!"

"Hermione has a sibling?" Harry asked in surprise. The rubber band sprang off his bandage and flew through the air with a familiar twang, landing next to another rubber band.

Ginny leveled a glare at him. "Not that best friend."

"Well there's Hermione and Ron, and Ron only has you as a sister, so…oh!" Harry said softly. "Um...Ginny…I'm not gay. I know Malfoy saids a lot of things, but come one! I always thought that you would believe me!"

Ginny wasn't listening. "You would fall in love with the sister of your best friend, the one who you ignored and who had a crush on you, but she would play it cool and flirt with you constantly until you went mad with love and desire. Then she would be the sophisticated woman and develop the relationship and you would love her and she would have your babies and you would get married to her…Harry, Harry? Where are you?"

The next morning, Harry walked downstairs to the Kitchen, only to be met by an extremely excited Ginny, who was literally and not metaphorically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Did it happen? Are you really the Heir of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin? Did you get kinds of really cool powers? Are you nervous that you might hurt somebody with these powers? Will…Will you fall in love with your best friend's little sister?" Ginny shot out before Harry had even opened his mouth.

"Actually, I had a weird dream last night, something that had nothing to do with Voldemort." Harry said and leaned in closer. Ginny giggled helplessly as she moved forward. "In this dream, Merlin himself appeared to me. He told me a lot of strange things and said that I really was the Heir of the Four Founders and himself. You were right Ginny! You were right!"

Ginny clapped her hands together, her eyes going dreamy. "If I was right about that, could I be also be right about the…other thing?"

"You know, my father also appeared to me in the dream," Harry whispered confidentially. "He told me that all Potter men had fallen for redheads in the last seven generations."

"Really?" Ginny whispered.

"Nah, I'm just stuffing with you!" Harry said, drawing back and grinning cheerfully. "About my father, anyway. The Merlin stuff really happened."

Ginny looked crushed but she perked up at his last sentence. "So you really are the Heir of Merlin, and Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and Slytherin?

"Yep, that I am." Harry said sarcastically.

"What kind of powers do you have?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"Oh, I have loads and loads of them," Harry said mockingly. When Ginny still didn't notice the tone of his voice he sighed. Beckoning her closer, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "Merlin told me to give you a message. It was very important he said, had something to do with your destiny, something you needed to do in order for your life to go well…"

"Was it to love you?" Ginny asked softly.

"No, it was…it was…" Harry looked around nervously. "It was…to GET A LIFE! Geez, you have problems Ginny, you really do."

Ginny drew away from his, glaring at him angrily. "That wasn't funny Harry James Potter!"

"No, it was hysterical!" Harry said, and laughed loudly as he walked away. Ginny could hear him talking to himself as he left. "Heir of Merlin? What a load of bullshit!"

That morning at the kitchen table laid a stack of wrapped presents. Harry grinned when he saw them and eagerly approached them. Mrs Weasley, who was cooking breakfast, looked up. Tears welled in her eyes as they usually did these days, but she smiled comfortingly.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" She said loudly.

"Thanks Mrs Weasley," Harry said as he quickly jumped into a seat. It was a hard dilemma that had faced teenagers for decades, if not centuries. Presents or food? Presents or food? Fuck the food, give me my presents! "So, are we opening the presents now?"

"If you want to," Tonks said happily, but Harry had already torn into the presents.

"This is from me!" Ron said with a grin on his face.

Harry tore opened the packet to find an orange book.

"It's the Cannon's!" Ron said excitedly. "I saw it in a shop the other day and I knew I had to get it for you."

"Aha," Harry said slowly, before he painted a smile on his face. "Would you like to read it Ron?"

"Would I ever?" Ron exclaimed and snatched the book away from Harry.

Hermione's present was a book, which was no surprise really. It was titled, How to pass your NEWT's when you have suicidal tendencies.

"Hermione, I don't have..." Harry started in exasperation. Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she let out a sob.

"He's still in denial!" She broke down, crying bitterly on Ron's shoulder.

"Harry mate?" Ron said quietly, absently patting Hermione on the head. "You owe me a new jumper,"

Harry nodded sourly. He also received sweets from Tonks, joke stuff from Fred and George, rock cakes from Hagrid, a jumper from Mrs Weasley and a packet of Muggle condoms from Ginny, who cocked her eyebrows suggestively.

"You can be such a slut sometimes," Harry muttered to himself.

"What was that Harry?" Mr Weasley said.

"I said thank you!" Harry said loudly, and breathed a sigh of relief. Calling the only daughter

"Harry, I do believe it is my turn to give you a present!" Albus Dumbledore said with his twinkling eyes.

"Ooh, this will be gold!" Harry muttered gleefully, rubbing his hands together. "I really liked your last present!"

Albus smiled calmly and handed Harry a slim, almost flat book with a rubber band wrapped around it. It was made of black leather and titled on the front in ornate golden loopy writing was, "Isn't it about time you found ways to kill a near-immortal Dark Lord who has six horcruxes and a legion of minions with only a fifth year Hogwarts education and a secret power that the Dark Lord Knows Not?"

"Are you trying to tell me something Dumbledore?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dumbelodre shrugged slightly, his eyes twinkling..

"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked Tonks softly, gesturing to a loudly humming old man with wrinkled robes.

"That's Edgar. He's a little deaf these days," Tonks answered. "He's a super accountant though; we hardly have to pay any tax."

"What about those two surly looking people? Are they new American Auror's sent over by the Magical CIA to oppose Voldemort?" Ron asked, pointing at people who were indeed surly-looking. They had a grumpy look on their face that seemed to have been carved there at birth.

"That's Utah and Florida. They are American, but there plumbers, not Auror's. The third floor toilet had a leak this morning." Tonks answered.

"Do we have any new Auror's, or Hit Wizards, or Unspeakable's?" Harry asked.

"Only Henry," Tonks said and pointed at a bearded man with no arms. "He was an Auror for twenty years until he got his arms blow off."

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked sympathetically.

"No, camping accident." Tonks replied.

"Um…how does he hold his wand?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"He can't. Luckily, he found another and more natural…er…'wand'…to channel his magic through." Tonks answered slowly.

"Natural wand?" Ron asked in confusion, but Hermione blushed.

"Er…does that work?" She whispered slowly.

"It works well enough only if he stays away from fire-based smells. He lost a testicle that way back in '79." Tonks said, shivering slightly.

"Dueling Death Eaters?" Ginny asked.

"Trying to start his barbecue." Tonks answered sadly. "He has to wrap a rubber band around the other one to keep it from falling off,"

Harry shook his head slowly. "This is the group that's meant to oppose Voldemort?" he muttered. "We're all fucked."

"Okay everybody, listen up!" Kingsley called out. "It's Potters birthday so he's going to Diagon Alley. Tonks, Edgar, Henry, you're with Potter."

"What?" Edgar asked with his voice croaky and dull.

"You're escorting Potter to Diagon Alley!" Kingsley said, a little bit louder this time.

"There's a Copper in Von Billy?" Edgar mumbled.

Kingsley sighed and pointed at Harry. "Diagon Alley!" He shouted loudly.

"Ah, I get you sonny." Edgar said and winked.

Kingsley sighed, suddenly looking very tired. "Off you go."

"I'll go first!" Edgar shouted and approached the fireplace. He threw in a fistful of powder, and as the flames turned green, he said loudly. "I love Asian food!"

"What?" Tonks muttered.

Edgar stepped in and took a deep breath. "Thai and Chilly!" He shouted, disappearing in a whirl of green flames.

"I doubt we'll ever see him again," Harry remarked.

Diagon Alley was rather quiet as Harry's group walked down the magical street. Some wizards and witches scurried past, keeping their hoods down and their children close. Surly Auror's that had the same expression as the two American plumbers patrolled the streets in their blue robes, their expressions grim and…surly. As Harry approached Gringotts, he noticed two extremely ugly Goblin guards with spears standing out front.

"New security?" He asked Tonks, who nodded.

"The Goblins are a little bit touchy these days." She remarked. "Bill almost lost his legs the other day for mentioning the word thief!"

The group walked into Gringotts, where more armed Goblins stood, glaring at them angrily. Tonks shifted uncomfortably while Henry frowned.

Harry walked up to a nearby counter. "I'd like to visit my vault, here's my key."

The goblin behind the desk was an ugly little runt, with a very ugly nose and an even uglier forehead. There was just no feature of this goblin that wasn't ugly, the whole creature just radiated ugliness and for a moment, Harry almost gagged. It glared up at him with its ugly little eyes.

"You want to visit your vault?" It asked sourly. "Well, I tell you where you can visit! You can visit my big fat arse! Screw you, wizard-boy!"

"What?" Harry said in disbelief.

"I said…'S-Screw y-you, W-Wizard B-Boy!" The goblin said slowly. "What are you, deaf?"

"You stupid ugly little runt!" Harry growled.

"Ugly? That's a bit rich coming from a boy who wears glass over his eyes! Hey four-eyes, how's the weather up there?" The goblin mocked. "You wouldn't know a piece of gold from a piece of camel shit!"

"Sure I would, the camel shit would look like you!" Harry snapped back.

The Goblin growled like a deranged dog and leapt at him, its claws glistening and its teeth bared. Harry stepped backwards, cocked his fist and slammed it into the goblins head. It gave a shriek and dropped to the ground, whimpering softly. Harry smirked above it, just as another goblin rushed into the room.

"Oh dear!" It muttered. "Did Grifola hurt you wizard-boy?"

"Is that Grifola?" Harry asked bluntly, pointing to the whimpering Goblin.

"Oh dear!" The short goblin muttered again. "Forgive her…"

"Her…?"

"She never knows when to stop flirting with customers." The other goblin finished.

"Flirting?" Harry asked, choking up at the thought. "She sounded like she was picking a fight!"

"That is flirting, is it not?" The goblin said, puzzled. "Ah! You do not know the Goblin mating rituals!"

"You know what, I really, really, really don't want to know!" Harry muttered.

"We goblins mate every ten years, during that time the females are most grumpy and frustrated. This mating season lasts a full month until all female goblins are impregnated. The female who is the most aggressive is considered to be the most attractive." The goblin went on. "The angriest female gets the biggest vault of gold to complete the ritual."

"I'm sorry; they have sex in our vaults?" Harry chocked.

The goblin blinked. "Gold is considered to be the most potent goblin aphrodisiac in the world," He remarked. "This means that Gringotts is the largest Goblin brothel in northern Europe, bar none."

"This bank is a goblin brothel?" Harry asked slowly.

"Why you think there were so many Goblin rebellions? Wizards were continually finding goblins mating on their gold. Strangely, they thought that they were trying to steal it." The goblin said, genuinely confused that the wizard in front of him did not know this.

"Do all wizards and witches know this?" Harry asked.

"Of course they do!" The goblin appeared surprised.

"So you tell them?"

"Well, no. It is assumed that they would know, unless they are totally ignorant about sex." The goblin admitted.

"Human sex is much, much, MUCH different to Goblin sex," Harry said, groaning slightly at the mental image. "Look, can I just visit my vault?"

The goblin looked at the key closely, and then its cheeks blossomed into yellow splotches. "That vault is occupied at the moment, young sir."

"Occupied? As in…No! God, no! Please tell me that…Oh that is wrong! Very, very wrong!" Harry moaned loudly.

"I am sorry young sir,"

"Well, do I have any other vaults?" Harry asked. "Any hidden family vaults? Trust fund Vaults? What about the Black family vault?"

"No, the Potter's do not possess a family vault." The goblin remarked. "Nor do they possess any trust fund vaults."

"So, there are no secret hidden stashes of weapons and ancient books?" Harry asked, slightly disappointed.

"I'm afraid not Sir," The goblin answered.

"Pity. That would have been cool." Harry mumbled.

"And the Black Family Vault was given to a Mrs Andromeda Tonks, on specific instructions by a Mr Sirius Black." The goblin said, squinting at a scrap of parchment. "A total of…182 galleons was handed over."

"I thought the Black's were rich?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Mr Sirius Black blew most of the money on stocks."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Stocks regarding the revival of the UUSR."

"He's lucky he's dead."

Twenty minutes later, the first Death Eater's apparated into Diagon Alley, their faces covered by white masks.

"Avada Kedavra!" One Death Eater hollered, and a streak of green light soared towards an Auror, who threw himself onto the ground. The green light exploded in a burst of green flickering flames and as the Auror stood back up, waving his wand sharply. Hexes and curses burst from both Auror and Death Eater wands, and flashes of light rained between the two groups and soon the Alley was transformed into a battle zone. Nearby, Tonks shoved Harry into a nearby alley.

"Stay here!" She whispered, withdrawing her wand. "Henry, you stay with him!"

Henry nodded and hesitated. "Tonks, I need to…um…charge my wand…"

"Merlin's fourth abandoned puppy!" Tonks growled, and with a withering glare, she pulled up the top of her robes, revealing her perfect breasts. Harry stared, his eyes wide open, but Henry frowned and concentrated. A bulge was visible in his pants and he gave Tonks a winning smile, to which she grunted and let down her top, dashing from the alley.

"What was that?" Harry asked after a few seconds.

"As you are no doubt aware, I have no arms." Henry said.

"Really? It's hardly noticeable!" Harry said quickly. "Now that you mention it though…"

"Since I couldn't hold a wand any more, I devised a way to make a natural magical conduct through my penis. However, my penis will only work as a wand when I have an erection, otherwise I can't aim. You see, I find that my penis is much larger than many other penises, which allows me to move more naturally and aim my penis to a far better degree of accuracy. It's all in the penis Mr Potter, it's all in the penis." Henry said proudly, the bulging his pants very prominent now.

"That is just…" Harry started with a disgusted look on his face, before a Death Eater stalked into the alley.

"Potter and a cripple!" He hissed. He raised his wand, just as Henry jumped forward.

"Stupefy!" Henry shouted, and a crimson beam of magic rocketed from his…crotch…and struck the Death Eater in the chest. The Death Eater fell limply, a look of surprise on his face.

Henry gave Harry a smug look, to which Harry flinched. Three more Death Eaters ran into the alley, one of them being Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Henry Hayes and Harry Potter!" Bellatrix shrieked. The two anonymous Death Eaters standing next to her moved forward at her command. Henry gave a loud roar and leapt forward, his…crotch…emitting jets of sparkling magic as he dueled with one Death Eater, while Harry and the other Death Eater watched.

"That is wrong on so many levels." Harry said, shaking his head.

"You're right about that." The Death Eater nodded.

"You're meant to be trying to kill him, not invite him over for a tea party!" Bellatrix shrieked.

The Death Eater started and with a flick of his wand, summoned a wave of dark energy that spiraled towards Harry.

Harry jabbed out his wand and desperately shouted, "Protego!"

A silver shield formed around him and deflected the dark magic, but he was knocked off his feet for a second and landed painfully on his arse. Despite the year of teaching the DA and the experiences he had gone through, Harry was by no means a master of magical dueling. In fact, he was just slightly better than average only due to experience. He wasn't going to be out-dueling the Death Eater's anytime soon, let alone Lord Voldemort. In fact, Harry had an amazing survival skill called 'Getting the fuck out of there'. Unfortunately, this skill didn't apply in the one-way narrow alleyway, so he prepared to fight an honest battle.

"Stupefy!" Harry roared loudly.

"Protego!" The Death Eater blocked, sending the crimson beam of magic spiraling away. "Crucio!"

"Fuck off!" Harry yelled, swiping his wand through the air as he leapt to the side. "Expelliarmus!"

Henry was down the alley, thrusting his hips as he parried and directed curses and hexes towards the Death Eater he was facing, while Harry and the Death Eater were using every dirty trick they knew of to try to gain the advantage over each other.

"Look, it's Salazar Slytherin!" Harry yelled, gesturing behind the Death Eater.

"Nice try Potter!" The Death Eater sneered. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry ducked and flicked his wand sharply. "Accio Death Eater!"

"Protego!" The Death Eater snapped, dispelling the force that tugged at his body. "Look Potter, its Goody-goody Gryffindor here to rescue you!"

"Yeah right!" Harry snorted. "Petrificus Totallus!"

As the Death Eater parried the curse, Bellatrix Lestrange, who had been largely ignored, called out in a sultry voice.

"Henry Hayes, look at this!"

Henry automatically focused his gaze on her for a split second and cried out in shock. Bellatrix was standing there in the nude. Despite popular mythology, she in fact was NOT attractive and definitely not beautiful. Twelve years in a 3 x 4 isolation cell had done terrible things to her. Things were wrinkled and deformed and horrible. Certain other things were saggy and withered and there was a hump growing on her back. Her toe nails were crusted and broken and her bones stuck out of her body.

"Merlin!" Harry groaned, completely ignoring the Death Eater in front of him, who decided that this wasn't a trick and turned around. As Harry gagged, the two Death Eaters swallowed; their eyes wide with shock and repulsion behind their white masks.

"No!" Henry cried out, shielding his eyes, but it was too late. His 'magical wand' started shrinking despite himself and Bellatrix laughed shrilly as she conjured her clothes back on.

"Avada Kedvara!" She shrieked, and a soaring wave of green light enveloped Henry, who fell to the ground with his penis half-erect.

Harry felt a wave of rage come over him and he aimed his wand at Bellatrix. "Crucio!" He snarled.

A brief flash of red was all the warning Bellatrix had, but it was enough and she casually sidestepped. A quick flick of her wand and a loud bang later, and Harry had been disarmed and thrown off his feet. He landed painfully on the ground and suddenly felt a surge of panic through him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the famous Harry Potter," Bellatrix drawled.

"It took you this long to recognize me?" Harry asked, desperately patting the ground for something to use. His hands closed around something elastic and thing- a rubber band and he picked it up very carefully, trying not to alert Bellatrix to his movements.

"I knew it was you! You were foolish to try to out duel my men!" Bellatrix snapped.

"Um…No it wasn't." Harry said, grimacing as he got up.

"Don't be smart with me, brat!" Bellatrix growled. She fingered Harry's wand and smiled chillingly. "You will now die by your own wand!"

She raised the wand, a fanatic and crazed look in her eyes. This was achieved by having one eye peering upwards at the sky and another eye looking downwards. Bellatrix was quite proud of that look, since few Death Eaters had ever been able to replicate it. "Prepare to die Potter!"

Harry quickly bought his hands together in a prayer motion and bowed his head. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallow be Thy name, Thy Kingdome Com, Thy will be done…"

This quick improvisation stunned Bellatrix for the two seconds that Harry needed, and he quickly stretched out the rubber band, closing one eye as he aimed it at Bellatrix. Long ago, when he was still in primary school, Harry had been a master at flicking 'stuff'. It was usually a combination of running away really, really fast and a good flick of 'stuff' that allowed him to escape from Dudley and his Gang, Aunt Marge's dogs and the Mormons. It usually ended in Harry sitting on a nice high wall while Dudley ran home screaming for his mummy, the dogs scuttled off for their mistress, and the Mormons scurrying away ranting about sin and death and how God would punish him. This had only failed one time, which is coincidentally where Harry had learnt that prayer in the first place.

TWANG! The rubber band leapt from his finger with deadly accuracy, twirling through the air past the two confused Death Eaters, and striking Bellatrix straight in the eyeball. If it had been the eye that had been peering upwards, the 'fanatic' eye, or if Bellatrix wasn't as tall as she was, then things wouldn't have changed and Harry would have come down with a case of slight terminal death. Unfortunately for Bellatrix, it hit her 'crazed' eye directly on the pupil during mid cast.

"Avada kedavrAGGH!" Bellatrix cried out in pain, bringing both hands to clutch her eyes. Unfortunately for the Death Eater to her left, Harry's wand was still in her hand, and a jet of green light slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Bellatrix!" The other Death Eater cried out. "Look where…ARGH!"

An arc of ebony shimmering magic sliced into his torso, and for a second the Death Eater stood there, gazing at Harry with shocked eyes. "This is Bullshit man!" He whispered, before his spleen decided that they really wanted to see what the fuss was about sunlight and jumped out of his mouth. After deciding that it really wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, the scuttled along to a nearby cellar. It wrote three poems and won the Pulitzer Prize before it was eaten by a starving house-cat.

Harry, meanwhile, softly moved towards the entrance of the alley. He stopped next to Bellatrix and held his while he gently reached over the sobbing and cursing witch. Bracing himself, he kicked her in the shin and darted out of the alley, followed by a rain of curses, some verbal and some magical.

Diagon Alley was a mess. Two Auror's were on the ground, groaning and holding their bleeding heads, while four Death Eaters were hang up by their ankles, screaming expletives and death threats. Nearby, Tonks dueled with a large Death Eater, who had a faint metallic sheen to his skin. The man was really crap dueler; he made a first year look like Albus Dumbledore. He was slow, fat and useless. However, Tonks curses were evaporating as soon as they touched him, and the man was stupidly grinning as he waved his wand slowly, sending continuous blasts of weak orange magic.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Tonks shouted, but the blast of magic simply fell apart as it impacted on the large man. Harry spotted a large piece of broken timber and smiled nastily. He picked it up, crept behind the man, and swung it with all his might at the large Death Eater's head.

CLONK!

The Death Eater swiveled around and Harry grimaced as he took a step backwards. Tonks blasted the Death Eater several times in the back, but the curses and hexes fell apart, and the Death Eater ignored her as he approached Harry.

"Get out of here Potter!" Tonks cried.

Harry ignored her and swung the piece of wood at the guys face.

CLONK!

The man was grinning now, a stupid and rather ugly grin. "Me get transfigured into Super-Wizard! Me not get hurt! Me smart, no?"

Harry took another swing, this time at the man's chest.

CLONK!

The man raised his wand, an expression of extreme concentration appearing on his face. "Expell- Expeli- Epxla- Expell- Expelmus"

The last word produced a rather pathetic red mist that evaporated in the air. Harry grinned suddenly and with a quick but hard thrust, he slammed the wood down on the man's crotch.

CLONK!

"You didn't!" Harry gasped, and flinched when the man nodded slowly.

"Me smart!" The man grinned stupidly.

"No, you very, very dumb!" Harry muttered. The man raised a fist and with movements that were much quicker than Harry was expecting, he launched a fist that smashed through the wooden stick and sent Harry hurtling to the ground, unconscious before he even touched it.

"Three words. Ouch!" Harry muttered as he woke up.

"That was only one word mate," Ron said hesitantly.

"Go back and count them. There were three words in that sentence!" Harry replied grumpily. He gingerly touched his head and winced at the rather large lump there. "Well, there goes my ability to read." He remarked dryly.

"Moody wants to speak to you," Ron said. Again there was a slight hitch in his voice, but he was gone before Harry could properly interpret it. His head felt like a herd of elephants had trampled over towards Number Four Privet Drive, where they got eaten by Dudley, who then proceeded to stop on Harry's head.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Somebody roared from the doorway. "COSTANT VIG-Just kidding…OW!"

The book that Harry had thrown slammed into Ron's face. There was a distinct crunching noise as his nose broke, and he glared at Harry with tears in his eyes and blood streaming down his nose, before whirling around.

"Did you enjoy that Potter?" Somebody asked softly, and Harry whirled around to see Moody stepping from the shadows, his blue eye penetrating Harry with its big…blue…thing.

"Hey, if somebody thinks it's funny to scream at the boy with the concussion, they deserve to get hurt." Harry defended himself.

"Those Death Eaters deserved to die as well, didn't they?" Moody asked. His face was set in stone, harsh lines curved his chin and his eyes…eye…was as hard as rocks, the types of rocks that were hard and dense and not the little crumbling ones made of first, which technically weren't rocks but more like dirtballs.

"Um…who?"

"Did you enjoy killing them? Did your blood sing out for more?" Moody said, pacing around the darkened room. Harry watched him carefully, more than slightly freaked out.

"Moody, what…?"

"We know what you did!" Moody suddenly roared. Harry winced and grappled for the nearest thing, a glass of water, and hurled it at the paranoid ex-Auror, who swiftly ducked into the shadows. As the glass smashed on the wall, Harry snarled angrily.

"I'll repeat myself…I have a concussion!" He hissed.

Moody said nothing, hiding in the shadows. After a few seconds, he came back, but this time his eyes reflected grizzled warmth, and he had a small smile of understanding on his face. "I understand you know. I've been in your situation before."

Harry was understandably feeling a little confused.

"Sometimes you let you anger escape you before you can hold it back in," Moody said sympathetically. "After all, Death Eaters have ruined your life."

"Moody, I don't exactly…" Harry trailed off as Moody dived back into the shadows, only to return with his 'bad' face on.

"So you decided to ruin theirs. When did you decide to learn the Dark Arts? Was it after your fifth year? Was it when Sirius died, and you yearned for nothing more than revenge?"

"Dark Arts? Moody…" Harry began.

"Don't lie to me boy!" Moody hissed. His wooden leg clanked along the ground as he paced furiously. "Where did you learn Dark Magic from? Was it from books? Did you escape our watch one day, disguise yourself, summon the Knight Bus, visit Knocturn Alley and buy an illegal time turner and books on dark magic so you could train right under our noses? Did you finally snap and think to yourself, 'Why am I listening to a manipulative old coot anyway?'

"Um…No," Harry answered in bewilderment but Moody had gone back into the shadows, and had returned with a sympathetic look on his face.

"It must be hard, being alone for all of your life. Did you think that the shadows could comfort, hide you in warmth like they use to do in your old cupboard?" Moody whispered softly. "Are you determined to take the fight to Voldemort?"

"Hell no! Keep that snake-faced prick away from me and I'll be happy!" Harry snapped.

Moody smiled nicely, well, he attempted to smile nicely but his grizzled and scarred face twisted in such a way that Harry started.

"Are you scared and lonely?" He asked softly. "We are here for you Harry! Turn back away from the Dark!"

"I think you should shut the fu…" Harry started heatedly, but Moody had drawn back into the shadows. When he came out, he held Harry's wand with him and his eyes glittered angrily.

"This cast several Dark Curses, Killings Curses among them." Moody said sharply. "Will you admit that you cast those curses?"

"I didn't! Bellatrix disarmed me and used my wand!" Harry protested.

"Stop lying!" Moody roared loudly. He jumped back into the shadows and jumped in less than a heartbeat.

"You can tell me the truth Harry. I won't judge you."

In the shadows and out again.

"I know what you're up to, Dark Wizard Scum!"

In the shadows and out again, again.

"Everything's going to be just fine,"

In the shadows and out again, again, again.

"I'll see you rot for this!"

In the shadows and out again, again, again, again

"Nobodies talking about prison here, we're just concerned for you."

In the shadows and out again, again, again, again, again

"Dumbledore got you off the hook this time- But I'm watching you, scum!" Moody growled. He hurled the wand towards the bed, and Harry snatched it angrily. As soon as he had touched the wand, Moody had leveled his own at Harry's head.

"I know what you're thinking," He hissed. "You're thinking, 'Did Alastor Moody utter the first five syllables of the Killing Curse, or did he not?'. For you, scum, it's all about luck! Tell me; do you feel lucky…punk?"

Harry watched Moody withdraw his wand and storm from the room. Suddenly feeling very angry, he shouted at the ex-Auror's retreating back. "You're meant to do the Good Auror/Bad Auror with two people Dickhead!"