Chapter 2: The Plan
“Who am I? Where am I? And when the hell did I grow breasts?”
“RON! Will you please stop waving your skanky hand-me-down briefs under my nose?!”
“But you fainted, Hermione, and we couldn’t find any smelling salts. So Harry and I decided to improvise.”
“Erm... yeah… thanks… I guess.”
The wench was clearly ungrateful. After all, it was my idea. And why the fuck are we talking about Ron’s soiled undergarment when my Sevvy is abandoned without me. I must refocus this conversation onto clearly more important matters.
“Well, now that you’re awake, Hermione, have you come up with a plan for me to shag Snape, my one true love?”
“Ron, may I borrow those vintage briefs for a second?”
She grabbed Ron’s briefs.
“I’ll give you a plan, Harry.”
“Hermione! Oww. That hurt!”
“You think that hurt? And you want to be shagged by an aged beefcake?”
“Yeah Harry, wouldn’t you rather have my 16-year-old power tool bulldoze your tunnel?”
“Hermione! Don’t hit me with my own underwear. I know where it’s been.”
Hermione dropped the briefs, ran into the kitchen, and washed her hands with bleach. This is ridiculous. I want my fucking plan! I must entice Hermione to help me before she faints again.
“So Hermione, d’you have a plan yet? My virginal oral cavity aches for Snape’s slimy love.”
Hermione turned a funny shade of green. “I think going to be sick.”
Ron also looked green. “Me too. D’you want to share an outhouse?”
Hermione rushed toward the door. “I am going to be sick.”
Ron chased after her. “Don’t be sick, Hermione. I know we’re both lusting after Harry, but I can put on glasses and pretend to notice your breasts. Look, they’re big and firm and bouncy.”
“You noticed! Where did you say that outhouse was?”
They started to run off together. Wait a minute. Het sex is NOT ALLOWED in this fanfic. That’s a felony in some boroughs. And I still don’t have a fucking plan…
“Hey guys, come back! What about my plan?!”
“Give us 15 minutes…”
[15 minutes later]
“So how was it?”
I am clearly disinterested, but trying to sound supportive so that Hermione helps me to shag the Slytherin Sex God.
Ron looked like Christmas had cum early. “It was bloody brilliant!”
Somehow Hermione didn’t look half as excited.
“Well, let’s see. I had hoped to play with Ron’s 16 year old power tool, but somehow all I found was a stub buried in a bushy red mane. I mean… I TRIED to get the frightened baby chick to come out of its ruddy nest, but I refused to bend over and pretend that I was you, Harry. So finally I just let Ron fumble with my knockers.”
“In the outhouse?”
After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Mrs. Weasley barged into the room.
“Oh, Harry dear, you’ve finally arrived and you look so manly now that you’ve turned sixteen. Would you like some milk and sushi?”
She exposed her right breast and started unbuttoning her skirt.
Ron looked upset. I wonder why? Did he want to help cook, too? I can’t believe these Weasleys cook in the nude. Aunt Petunia only cooked in studded garters.
Ron looked outraged. I wonder why? Hasn’t he seen his mum cook before? Should I tell her I’m lactose intolerant?
[sometime later on the Hogwarts Express]
It’s been a month and still no fucking plan. I HATE HERMIONE GRANGER. Well, maybe hate is too strong of a word. But she’s on my shit list at the moment.
And I can’t possibly come up with a plan of my own, because that’s totally OOC. I hate J.K., too. Well, maybe not hate but…
Why am I wasting precious seconds thinking about females when I could be fantasizing about my slimy sexpot? I wonder if he loves me. Let’s see…
“He loves me [pluck] oww…”
“He loves me not [pluck] oww…”
“He really loves me…”
“Hoot hoot.” [translation – “If you pluck one more bloody feather I will personally castrate you!”]
Hedwig has no sense of romance.
[the carriage door opens]
“Fred, George, what’re you doing on the train? I thought you had left school to start Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes?”
Fred grinned. “Yeah, yeah, canon, logical explanations, whatever. We’re glad we got you alone, Harry.”
“Yeah, Harry. We want to teach you some new moves. Don’t we, Fred?”
Why did George just wink at him? Hmm… I wonder if Snape likes new moves…
“Really, will these moves help me with my plan to seduce the potions master?”
“Well here’s the thing, Harry. The potions master is a mature, sensitive, experienced greasy slimebucket. He probably already knows all of the moves that we’re about to teach you, which is why we’re here to help you on your quest.”
“You guys are great. Hermione refuses to help. It’s about time that somebody assists me.”
George winked at Fred again. “It’s our pleasure, Harry. We’ll teach you everything we know so that you can be prepared. You don’t want Snape to think that you lack… experience.”
“So what do I need to learn?”
“Let’s start with the basics. First, there’s the missionary position. Just take off your pants, lie down and wait for Uncle Georgie to give you a big surprise.”
“Ooh, I like surprises.”
“Wait a minute. Uncle Freddie won the coin toss. I get to surprise him first.”
“You did not, you lying bastard.”
“I did, too, you miserable whore.”
“All right, Uncle Georgie has a compromise. Why don’t we make a Potter sandwich?”
“That’s fine, so long as Uncle Freddie gets to be the sandwichor and not the sandwichee.”
“But I promised Harry that Uncle Georgie would give him his first surprise.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll give him a much bigger surprise.”
“We’re identical twins; it’s the same size surprise.”
“But Uncle Freddie knows how to maintain his surprise for more than sixty seconds.”
“What?! Uncle Georgie’s the one who keeps going and going. I’m the… wait a minute. Harry? Harry? Oh, fuck! He’s gone!”
[in the Prefect’s Carriage]
Bloody twins. I can’t see how arguing would help me seduce Sevvy. Maybe if I talk to Hermione again she’ll cave…
“Ron, they’re not made of foam rubber. Stop playing with them. We’re supposed to be listening to the Head Girl.”
The Head Girl started talking. “Blah blah blah.”
“But Hermione, they’re big and they jiggle. Oh hi, Harry. Do you want to play trampoline on Hermione’s…”
The Head Boy started talking. “Blah blah blah.”
“Do we have a plan yet? C’mon guys, I’m getting desperate here.”
“Mr. Potter, you’re in a car you don’t belong in and you are interrupting an important informational session. As the Head Boy, I’m giving you have detention with Professor Snape.”
“Woo hoo, a plan!”
End of Chapter 2
Author’s Note: This chapter was written as our opening entry for the new closed community, hphumor.
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