Recipient: smilevampy Prompt: Death Eaters as college fraternity boys, a la "Animal House." Word count: 279 Rating: R, for awkwardness
“Nerds. NERDS!”
It was a fitting kind of thing to happen, really. The skies had again filled with the Dark Mark, from which shot down flame. Voldemort himself had made a dramatic entrance in an unholy glow from over the horizon, and the Death Eaters had captured Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The ensuing dark ceremony within the bowels of the Death Eaters’ penultimate lair - underneath an abandoned Little Ceasar’s, it turns out; no wonder nobody could ever find it - quickly culminated in an array of magic being ignited by the Death Eaters’ collective powers, for the sole purpose of killing Harry and bringing about an age of fear.
“NERDS,” bellowed Fenrir.
Ron gaped in amazement from atop his crucifix after the ensuing silence. “That was bloody brilliant, Harry. What did you do?”
Hermione, having comprehended the situation, noted, “The power what Harry had bestowed upon him by his mother’s love seems to have reflected this spell in a peculiar way. And Harry is unconscious right now, dear.”
“Bloody hell,” Ron exclaimed. “But how did it do... they...”
Snape, chortling, untied one of Harry’s hands from his crucifix and placed some shaving cream therein. Lucius Malfoy, armed with a sizeable feather, tickled Harry’s face.
Harry snored loudly, smearing the shaving cream onto his forehead, over his now-glowing scar. Zzz.
“Oh,” said Hermione, “Harry’s just asleep.”
“Oh, alright then.” An awkward pause later, aside from the Death Eaters’ raucous laughing at the shaving cream stunt, all color then drained from Ron, looking at Harry out of the corner of his eye. “Er, Hermione?”
“Yes, Ron?”
“It affected Draco in a different way.”
Harry giggled in his sleep. “Five more minutes, mom...”
Prompt: Death Eaters as college fraternity boys, a la "Animal House."
Word count: 279
Rating: R, for awkwardness
“Nerds. NERDS!”
It was a fitting kind of thing to happen, really. The skies had again filled with the Dark Mark, from which shot down flame. Voldemort himself had made a dramatic entrance in an unholy glow from over the horizon, and the Death Eaters had captured Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The ensuing dark ceremony within the bowels of the Death Eaters’ penultimate lair - underneath an abandoned Little Ceasar’s, it turns out; no wonder nobody could ever find it - quickly culminated in an array of magic being ignited by the Death Eaters’ collective powers, for the sole purpose of killing Harry and bringing about an age of fear.
“NERDS,” bellowed Fenrir.
Ron gaped in amazement from atop his crucifix after the ensuing silence. “That was bloody brilliant, Harry. What did you do?”
Hermione, having comprehended the situation, noted, “The power what Harry had bestowed upon him by his mother’s love seems to have reflected this spell in a peculiar way. And Harry is unconscious right now, dear.”
“Bloody hell,” Ron exclaimed. “But how did it do... they...”
Snape, chortling, untied one of Harry’s hands from his crucifix and placed some shaving cream therein. Lucius Malfoy, armed with a sizeable feather, tickled Harry’s face.
Harry snored loudly, smearing the shaving cream onto his forehead, over his now-glowing scar. Zzz.
“Oh,” said Hermione, “Harry’s just asleep.”
“Oh, alright then.” An awkward pause later, aside from the Death Eaters’ raucous laughing at the shaving cream stunt, all color then drained from Ron, looking at Harry out of the corner of his eye. “Er, Hermione?”
“Yes, Ron?”
“It affected Draco in a different way.”
Harry giggled in his sleep. “Five more minutes, mom...”
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