Hello One, Hello All who have decided to take the time out of their day to read this story. Prepare to be... well... amazed, it really depends on the person. Any who, this one may be under the Humor genre but it takes a while before it really gets going... around when the gang go back to Hogwarts.

Yes, this is SLASH! Be warned, if I get a flame saying 'WTF!? Are fucking blind or just fucking stupid? Faggotry is just disgusting and you should all go die because the Bible says so.' Like I see in so many different place, I'll greatly enjoy verbally reeming your ass until all of your morals need to be stripped away for inspection, your life and the way you live it is put into question, and you don't even really like who you are anymore now that all of your possible faults (personality-wise) are laid out before you for critiquing. Thank you~

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the songs that appear in this story, or any references to other Anime, Books, Historical Figures, Comedians, Shows, Movies, or Manga. They all belong to their respective owners and I ensure you that I make absolutely no prophet from posting this story. I also dedicate this Lady Androgene, who is amazing funny with her works, I highly recommend her Katekyo Hitman REBORN story You and Me Baby, Ain't Nothin But Mammals. Hilariously funny with D80, 1827, 69Everyone, and 1880. Rated R for Ridiculousness... Hers is... Mine is rated M for Molestation... Poor Harry.

Now, onto Meat and Potatoes, I give you...!:

Blurred Lines

The title alone should be more than enough for you to realize the structural integrity of this story... I highly recommend you seek out a doctor if your mind's eye is still weeping longer than one week after this story. Enjoy. Rated M for Molestation (large possiblity).

Chapter 1: You Never Had It So Good

Pack your bags real good; you'll be gone for a while.

Song of the Chapter: So Good - B.O.B

Harry Potter laid awake in his room late at night... er... early in the morning now. That nightmare had been odd and had made his scar burn, which didn't really surprise him anymore. Everything made his scar burn as though it were a brand; seeing Snape in a tutu doing a lapdance would make his scar burn (not to mention his eyes melt from their sockets and his mind completely collapse). He 'tsked' in annoyance as he turned his head to the side, long hair (he had styled it after some fellow called Tensa from a Japanese Show named Bleach) splaying across the pillow in waves and spikes of jet black.

He reached for his glasses (frameless rectangular lenses and a new perscription from Sirius for his birthday) and put them on, sitting up as the sun rose from the sky. Sun was up, and that means he could continue his job of being the human house elf for his relatives who ate too much, dieted obsessively, and probably had anal seepage from all the Red Bulls they drank. He shuddered, best not think thoughts that made his brain shudder... it wasn't at all pleasant.

He threw the sheets from his waist, opening the window for Hedwig when she brought back The Daily Prophet and his friends' responses. Tucking a music player with a magic implant that played whatever song he wanted whenever he wanted to listen to it (a gift from Hermione; he had given her a book about the structuring of spells and wands written by some distinguished wand-maker in return), he put in his headphones and padded across the room.

Nowadays, Dudley the Diabetic's clothing was simply too large for him (he had finally achieved that goal of being wider than he was tall that he'd been working towards his entire life... the reality that he could make stupid and fat jokes was just peachy for Harry). So in light of the premonition he had late into his third year of Hogwarts Education (one in which he had been looking into the legend of Moby Dick and had instead seen Dudley flopping about in the water roaring that he wanted more candy), he had gone to Hogsmeade and bought outfits (dress shirts, loose and fitted jeans, jackets, shoes, sandals, shorts, tanktops, and the like) in order to last him the winter (summer). After all, he didn't have the insulation that Dudley did in the form of pure blubber.

Today, he pulled on a pair of stylishly fitted jeans with a striped white and silver loose tanktop with a black belt around his hips. Tying most of his hair (with the exception of the hair framing his face that wouldn't go into a ponytail) back, he opened his bathroom door. Brushing his teeth, washing his face, taking a piss, and washing his hands, he paused as he was about to leave.

His emerald eyes stared back at him. At fourteen years old, Harry considered himself fairly intelligent (Snape would have vehemently disagreed if he knew), and he trusted his intuition. His intuition was almost always right, although it usually led him on the path that had most people think of him as some self-sacrificing martyr for the Light. He wasn't... he just had morals and followed them. That gut feeling flared and he knew that if ignored those dreams, it would bite him in the ass. A lot of things bit him in the ass, he considered the thought. Biting... perhaps he should finish up becoming an Animagus... then he might be able to bite his own ass. Food for thought.

He sighed, wearily opening the door and stepping into the hallway, his relatives were still asleep if the wailing and neighing were any indication, and would stay that way for while. Meaning, that he could get his chores done, do his summer work, and pack up before the Weasley Family showed up to collect him. He certainly didn't think he'd be going to such a large Quidditch event when Ron had first suggested it, but Pigwigeon's letter had stated differently. In fact, he was lucky to even be able to go... Merlin knew his Uncle would fly into a rage; yelling, screaming, throwing things, accusing, and throwing his body weight around so much that an Earthquake in Russia would be recorded.

Which wouldn't really matter short-term because he wouldn't have to see them for almost a year. Long-term, however, was a different story. Harry didn't really like the thought of being locked in his room with bars on his windows and locks on his door being fed cold soup through a cat-flap in the door. It was a detested thought and he was severely lucky that the Weasleys had been there to bail him out of his, very literal, jail cell. That's not entirely true; prisoners get better food than I did... He scathed as he entered the kitchen and began to pull out his ingredients.

Eggs were set on the sparkling counter, bacon strips set on a plate, bread package opened, grapefruits set out, jam next to them, and potatoes (around nine) washed and peeled before they were boiled. Deft fingers cracked the eggs into a clear bowl before whisking the yolks and white together expertly. A pan was heated and bacon laid atop it... the sizzling of grease filling the air with sound and the smell of frying pig permeating the kitchen. As he waited on the potatoes, he popped the bread into the toaster after it was slathered in butter and sliced the grapefruits in half.

The bacon was flipped and the potatoes drained in a colander before he took a knife and began shredding them to make Hash-browns. He paused to add cheese to the mixture of eggs and stir it in before taking the bacon out an putting it on a plate as he placed the shredded potatoes on the pan with vegetable oil to cook them it.

The toast popped up and he placed globs of jam in their centers before arranging them on another plate and setting it on the small circular dining table in the breakfast room. The grapefruits soon followed and Harry moved back to the stove and began managing the eggs, adding in a dash of Creole seasoning to spice it up and small amounts of milk to fluff them up. When those were done they were placed in a small bowl and put on the table. By now the hash-browns were finishing up, so he placed ketchup, salt, pepper, plates, silverware, and glasses on the table with orange juice in them. Napkins neatly folding into triangles. The Hash-browns were placed in a bowl and put down as well. He quickly gathered the jam and butter before placing the dirty pans in the sink to be washed later.

Chicken was taken out for dinner later as Petunia had instructed and Harry turned and began washing the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher before hurrying out to do the gardening-

"I must say, Potter." That soft, subtly threatening voice caused him to freeze as Severus Snape appeared out of a shadow. "You made yourself such a nice breakfast... one worthy of a celebrity." He noted duly, Harry sighed. The only thing he ate was a grapefruit (it should be the resident whales, but tell horse-face that and she might hoof him in the ass).

"Professor, as much as I enjoy your classes and never ending torment of me for a morally arbitrary factor that I have no control of, why are you in my relatives' house?" The raven asked, grabbing a rag and cleaning the stove before putting a kettle on with water heating.

"The Headmaster sent me to collect you for the Weasleys, as Muggle houses are restricted from being connected to the Floo Network; surely you should know this, Potter." The man stated, leaning against a counter, watching with a critical eye as his student gathered a cup and place a tea bag, one cube of sugar, and bit of vanilla and cinnamon into the bottom of a cup before pouring sufficiently heated water into the cup and stirring before putting milk into it and offering the cup to the Potions Master.

Snape took it cautiously and eyed the boy as he washed the kettle. "I really wouldn't. I don't bother with the corrupt politics of Ministry, and am Muggle-raised," Fuck that, he was enslaved, "And I never really knew the limitations of the Floo Network." He shrugged, "I'm hardly able to even let Hedwig out, lest it seem unnatural and strange." He recited, listening as the wailing and neighing ceased.

"Boy!" And it began, first with the elephant of man stomping down the stares, just as he always did, and just as he did every morning, his eyes lit up at the sight of food. And he then turned into the fattest race-horse Harry had ever seen in his life, galloping to the table and beginning to eat. Snape was ignored.

Petunia meandered in afterwords, Dudley waddling awkwardly behind her. Soon the sounds of eating filled the establishment, though Petunia only had some eggs and a grapefruit. Harry sighed and put a bowl of grapes in front of her. The woman, though annoying, was detrimental to her own health, and Harry couldn't help but worry about it. She thanked him with a flicker of a glance.

Harry stepped back, measuring out Vernon's arm length before standing a foot outside of it (just in case he decided he wanted to grab him by the neck like when he was eleven), Snape rose a brow. "Right, the Weasleys aren't going to be able to come-"

"Shame, that." Vernon muttered around bacon, not looking up, "Well, at least you'll have stuff to do while we wait out the rest of summer." He snapped waspishly, face beginning to manifest it's puce shade that Harry had come to associate only with Vernon.

"-If you would have bothered to look up, you'd know that they sent someone else to get me, and that we were about to leave. The chicken's de-thawing, house is clean, yard work complete, breakfast made, and lunch in the fridge. You can start fending for yourselves tomorrow." He stated airily, shoving his hands in his pockets. And they'll explode in 3... 2... 1... Boom!

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK THIS IS?!" Vernon roared, face now a plum shade and his temple vein pulsating like an anaconda. "A-"

Harry looked at him evenly, "Well, we both know the answer is not a freak show. " He stated, eyeing the fork that his uncle's pudgy fingers clutched at with trepidation. "Professor Snape agreed to bring me to the Burrow." He stated.

Beady eyes fixated on the man in black who stood with his arms crossed and hip against the counter, black robes fluttering like shadows around him. Vernon spluttered, Petunia had gone pale, but Harry urged her to continue eating grapes as he placed an eating schedule for her on the table. Snape regarded them coolly, but paused to wander why the whale of a boy had his hands clutched over his bottom and was edging in a strange waddle to a corner.

Harry huffed, watching his uncle stand, as though it would help. "IF YOU THINK-"

"I don't think anything. You agreed to allow me to go to the Burrow this summer and to go to the Quidditch World Cup, the agreement was made and will be fulfilled. I will be leaving and we'll be rid of one another for almost another year." Harry stated easily, "Who ever comes and retrieves me to take me to the Burrow should be of no consequence to you."

Vernon's mustache blew hither and thither as he fought the raging urge to choke out his nephew, which Harry had come to know was a common fantasy of his uncle's. "Fine, boy. Do whatever the hell you want to. Just don't come back until next year." Petunia nodded, not looking up from her bowl of grapes as she perused a magazine.

Harry nodded, leaving Severus briefly to send Hedwig to the Burrow with promises he would be there soon, she had nipped his finger but had cooed softly as she left in a flurry of feathers. Harry had then packed up everything he could into his trunk (which had a small extendable charm on it) and left the room neat, as though he had never been there.

Harry backtracked and grabbed a silver cross that had once belonged to his mother, it was silver with blue inside and a thin ring hanging in front of it, putting the small braided chain around his neck. He smiled before hurrying back down the stairs, slim black shoes in hand and black socks on his feet.

Snape had finished his tea and had his magic cleaning the cup and putting it up. "Ready, Potter?" He drawled, looking down at the boy, who smiled, tucking his wand into his pocket.

"Whenever you are, Professor." He followed the man to the living room, where the dark man stopped.

"Put on your shoes." Harry nodded, stepping into them, "Grab my arm, brace yourself, and if you puke on me, I'll give you so many detentions your joints will disintegrate from all the cauldron scrubbing." He warned, huffing as Harry merely grabbed his arm.

A loud crack and the strangest sensation of being squashed through a tube of toothpaste after a heavy lunch along with feeling his equilibrium being set off balance, and Harry's feet found purchase on the ground before gravity and inertia took their toll and he tipped over. "Uagh..." He fought the urge to upchuck the grapefruit and sucked in deep breaths as his head righted itself... "Never ever doing that again..." He muttered to himself, shaking off most of the vertigo.

Snape was less than amused, but he appeared fine that Harry didn't puke at all and knocked on the back door of the rickety house. Shouting could be heard and a plump, red-headed woman with fiery hazel eyes smiled at Harry, pulling him into a crushing hug that radiated so much estrogen and maternal love that Harry found himself struggling to breath. "Oh! Harry, how have you been dear?" She asked, pulling away, "You look a bit peaky... but we'll fix that right up." She cheered.

"I'm quite alright, Mrs. Weasley." He assured, "Just a bad case of vertigo... and motion sickness." He explained, feeling a little green around the gills at the flurry of movement in the room behind the Weasley Matriarch.

Snape nodded, "Molly." He acknowledged, before disapparating with a resounding crack. Harry almost puked at the thought of going through the apparition again.

Molly Weasley sighed at the Potions Master before leading Harry inside. "C'mon dear. Everyone's been waiting on you!" She smiled.

The Weasley family never failed to ensure that Harry felt as though he wasn't completely alone in the world. Even if he did sometimes wonder if Ginny stalked him; or if the twins were evil geniuses. Other than that, Bill was like the cool older brother he never had, Percy was like the overbearing male version of Hermione, and Charlie worked with Dragons (how fucking awesome, right?). They were all lovable to Harry, they were all like his family. Sometimes, Harry wished he could just come to the Burrow instead of Private Drive for the Summer Holidays.

They air they breathed was saturated in magic, the trees grew with it, the house teemed with it in every single nook and cranny and Harry loved it. The feel of it; it was as though he were back at Hogwarts. Though perhaps it was because he had always been so magically deprived as a child and now that he had spent time where there were large quantities of it, he had grown addicted to it. The Weasleys didn't understand because they were always around magic, so they couldn't become addicted to it because it had always been there. For Harry... he likened it to nicotine.

The time difference between Little Whinging and wherever the hell the Burrow was situated meant that he had completely missed lunch... which was fine by him. He had done most of his homework (to Molly's absolute delight), and had insisted on helping her cook. The clacking of Bill and Charlie's table war outside drew Harry's attention and he stepped out and leaned against the door frame as he watched the wooden pieces of furniture have an aerial battle.

The door on one of the middle floors opened, Percy's voice floating through the Midsummer's air. "Could you two please keep it down! I am doing important work for the Ministry!" He called, causing his elder brothers to snort in time with the twins, Percy's face flushed.

"Pffft... yeah, great job on that!" Bill called, snickering.

Charlie tilted his head, "How are those Cauldron Bottoms coming along?" He asked, smirking as the window shut with a decisive clack. Percy had had enough of his brothers' teasing.

To Harry, it was like watching the twins torment Hermione at school all over again. Which, to him, was really sort of ironic. He hadn't even seen Hermione except for a passing glimpse of the girl watching her kneazle cat hunt the gnomes while reading the book Harry had given her, diagrams surrounding her. Harry had already read the book and knew she was using the information to draw diagrammatic structures of spells and wands.

The battle, however, ended as Bill and Charlie set the tables down and began to set and repair them. Hermione setting up shop and drawing more diagrams, Crookshanks settling in her lap and watching her work, even appearing to occasionally help. Harry shook his head and wandered back into the kitchen, beginning to mash potatoes and add in garlic, butter, parsley, and basil, along with some milk for fluffiness. The Pumpkin Pie was pulled from the oven and the Coconut Cream Pie from the freezing cupboard. The large Turkey, stuffing, and the Chicken Pot Pies all filing out with the mashed potatoes and pies floating after them.

Harry walked out to sit between the twins, Ron sitting with Ginny and Hermione, only to be pulled between Charlie and Bill. "Sooooo... Harry." Charlie began, smirking at the emerald eyed fourteen year old.

Bill picked it up, "Are you excited for the Cup?" He asked, tilting his head, looking at the Gryffindor Seeker in interest. Of course they would want his opinion, ever since he had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, they had been undefeated (save against Hufflepuff last year).

"Yes, after reviewing the prospects... Ireland will win." Harry stated, smiling serenely as Ron spluttered, Molly was quick to admonish him about wasting food and rudeness, leaving his friend embarrassed.

"But Bulgaria's got Krum!" He stated, as though that fixed everything. The twins looked like they were most disappointed in their youngest brother.

Fred sighed, "Oh Ronnikins ("Don't call me that!"), Bulgaria's got one good player-"

"But Ireland's got seven~!" George ended, smirking as they continued their debate with Ron. Ginny hopping in every now and then. Percy and Authur talking Ministry Business with Hermione interjecting her information every now and then. Molly was ragging on Bill and Harry to allow her to trip their hair.

"Just a trim." She wheedled, magicking a pair of scissors from the malletspace that was usually reserved for Anime heroines to store large hammers or bazookas in. That meant those scissors were a dangerous threat. Harry shook his head in fear, clutching at the soft silky strands as they they were his babies.

"N-no thank you Mrs. Weasley..." Harry scooted slightly away from her, he and Bill huddling away from her as far as possible.

"Mom, I like my hair the way it is." Bill stated, tiredly picking at his pie under his mother's protests.

"What do the people at work say?" She asked, trying to instill reason in her eldest son.

Bill rolled his eyes tiredly, "No one at Gringotts gives a damn what I look like as long as I bring in plenty of gold and continue breaking curses." He argued back, sighing in relief when Molly turned to Ginny and began talking, Bill fingered his hair. "I'd rather not have my hair an inch from my scalp." He muttered darkly, glancing at his mother.

Dinner, overall, was a pleasant affair. Until Hermione and Percy got into a heated debate over Ministry Politics. "I'm saying that the system is corrupt, your precious Minister is just incompetent-"

"Minister Fudge is not incompetent, he's a brilliant leader and works for the greater good-"

"Calling that puppet brilliant is like calling Snape effeminate-" Harry shuddered at the mental image that he had just that morning of his Potions Professor in a tutu, but this time with make up and hair pinned up. Some of the Weasley's gave him concerned glances.

"Which has nothing to do with corruption-"

"It is as plain as day when you really review the policies the man tried to pass."

"And who helped catch Sirius Black?"

"While also stationing dementors at a school where underage wizards are trying to achieve an education, which the Ministry has no proper value for at all!"

"Which is a good thing, because he got in the school-"

"-And the dementors did nothing about it, but attack the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Seekers in the middle of a Quidditch Match-"

"They were protecting the school, on the Ministry's order-"

"-Proving that the system is corrupt."

"I beg to differ-"

"Another example: they did nothing but try to shut down Hogwarts when the Basilisk was on the loose-"

"-A good choice if it hadn't been killed-"

"-The point that they didn't even try to catch it is even more disturbing-"

"-Yes, well the Ministry isn't exactly filled with everyone as wonderful as Fudge-"

"Which is a brilliant thing, or else our government would have collapsed of sheer idiocy!" Percy looked ready to explode after Hermione got the last word over him

The two scholars harrumphed and turned away, Ron appeared to despair. "I knew this would happen if they ever talked to one another! Ugh... My head hurts." He muttered, laying his head on the table.

Harry nodded while the twins, Bill, and Charlie watched the two intellects' minds clash over some other policy before they all filed away to bed, Harry stayed outside, peering at the stars with critical eyes before sighing.

"I should take a shower..." He muttered, trudging inside.