Harry Potter Lust, Pride, Envy

Lust, Pride, Envy

Voldemort walked into the room and saw his lackeys Peter Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy, and his supposed lackey but obviously a spy Severus Snape. The three men were sitting around a table in the dark grimy room, performing essential Death Eater duties. Such as playing "Go Fish."

"Got any threes?" Lucius asked, his icy gray eyes glaring at Pettigrew. Lucius was losing, and being a spoiled brat at heart, was in a rather grumpy mood.

Whether Pettigrew had any threes or not, Malfoy never found out. Voldemort cleared his throat, and both Pettigrew and Malfoy jumped out of their seats and fell into bows in front of the Dark Lord. Snape rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, but reluctantly followed suit.

"My humble followers," Voldemort addressed them, his wicked red eyes gleaming. "This time I have done it! I have found the way to finally destroy Harry Potter! This plan is foolproof!"

"Just like the last plan, the one that got me thrown in prison?" Lucius asked bitterly. Voldemort glared at him.

"That was your doing, I believe, and the rest of my pathetic minions. This plan doesn't depend on incompetents such as yourself, thankfully enough."

"But those schoolchildren were just so tough!" Lucius whined in a Draco-esque fashion. Voldemort shot him another look.

"Well then, you should be glad that you will never have to face them in battle and lose again. Not when I cast this spell on them." Voldemort dramatically pulled out a box with seven white glowing orbs. They were about the size of large marbles.

"These orbs contain the Seven Deadly Sins: Lust, Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, and Anger. If we curse Potter with one of these sins, and five of his closest friends, then he will destroy himself or be destroyed."

There was silence in the room for a moment. Then Pettigrew, ever the sharp one, spoke up.

"That's only six sins, what about the seventh?"

Voldemort's eyes gleamed in excitement.

"Ah, Wormtail, this is the brilliant part. We use the last curse on an enemy with whom Potter has close contact. With his closest friends and his worst enemy all working against him, how could Potter not be destroyed?"

Lucius cleared his throat.

"Uh, great plan, your Darkness, sir."

"Oh, don't brown-nose, Lucius," Voldemort snapped.

With that Voldemort opened the case of small spheres. He picked up one at a time, murmured an incantation, and said the name of the unlucky student chosen to bear the sin. When he finished, he turned to his entourage, with an evil smile lighting his evil features, and laughed evilly.

"It is done, then," he said with a satisfied smirk. "Now we simply have to sit back and let the children destroy themselves. Dumbledore will never know we had anything to do with this."

Malfoy and Pettigrew cackled in unison, but Snape didn't.

"Um, my Lord, I need to go tell Dumbledore what you di-, I mean... I need to go back to Hogwarts to find out more of Dumbledore's secret plans and tell you every last detail, even if it never seems to help you any."

Voldemort nodded.

"Very well, Snape. One of these days some of the information you give me may be very useful indeed. Even if it appears to be wrong most of the time."

Snape made a mock curtsy, then hurried out of the dark grimy room, into a dark grimy hotel lobby, and into a dark grimy alley. He knew he needed to get back to Hogwarts before something horrible happened.

Actually, once Snape got to the alley, he changed his mind and decided to go a bit more slowly. It wasn't like Potter would die anytime soon. Maybe he would just suffer slightly. Or a lot. Maybe Snape would just take his dear sweet time getting back to Hogwarts, while Harry and his fellow students dealt with their sudden urges. A few extra minutes couldn't hurt. Or a few extra days.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in Herbology when he began to ponder how beautiful Harry Potter's messy black hair really was.

He shook his head, then whacked himself with One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, but the thought didn't go away.

Then he started to contemplate how Hermione Granger's teeth had actually gotten quite smaller since the first time he had seen her, and how her lips were beautifully shaped and rosy.

He pinched his thigh under the table, but that just reminded him that Ron Weasley had long, muscular legs that were really quite attractive.

It was that revelation that made him consider gouging out his mind's eye. He looked around the room to find something to distract him, and his eyes fell on Gregory Goyle.

Ah, he sighed to himself. I will find nothing erotic about Goyle. Except for his strong, brawny chest. And maybe his submissive qualities. Draco had already embarked on a fantasy involving Goyle submitting to some private time after class when he realized what he was doing. This made him ponder an even more drastic step of stopping his thoughts.

Such as castration. Or maybe leaving the room immediately would suffice. He jumped up while mumbling an apology to Professor Sprout, and fled.

Draco ended up outside the Slytherin common room a few moments later, out of breath from running. He stumbled up to the stone wall, muttered the password ("morals, schmorals"), and entered the common room still cursing himself for the unholy thoughts.

It was there he saw the coffee.

Graham Pritchard had brought a magical coffee machine from home, to fuel the addictive substance needs of the Slytherins when harder drugs were not available. Draco had always had, well, a thing for coffee, but he now realized he had never fully appreciated the silky smooth look of the beverage. Or the somewhat erotic smell that radiated through the air when coffee was being made.

Draco approached the table that the pot was placed on nervously. Someone had just started a new pot, and the sight of it being filled ever so slowly nearly drove Draco mad with desire. But he managed to control himself, and walked closer in what he hoped was a winning and engaging way.

"Hello, Mr. Folgers," Draco said, trying to keep his voice in a low and sensual drawl. "How are you this beautiful afternoon? You're looking nice and wet today."

The coffee dripped sexily.

"I was wondering," Draco started, licking his lips. He noticed his mouth appeared to be a bit...dry. "Would you allow me to take a little taste of you?"

Draco waited in nervous anticipation, waiting for rejection. But to his delight, the coffeepot made a gurgling sound that obviously indicated agreement. His hands shook as he grabbed a cup. Always remember to use protection; he admonished himself as he pulled a knitted cozy over the mug. This would keep the coffee warm during the act.

Draco had just poured himself a brimming cupful and was bringing it to his lips when Hermione Granger walked out of the Slytherin boy's dormitories.

They stared at each other for a moment. Draco was in shock, but Hermione just flung her hair behind her shoulder with a quick flick of the neck. Scratch that: she tossed her shining, thick hair behind her perfectly formed shoulder with her delicate, lightly tanned neck.

Hermione walked to the coffeepot and helped herself. Draco found himself fleetingly shocked at this indiscretion of the coffee - and right in front of him too! - but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Hey beautiful, where did you come from?" Draco purred. _Where the hell did that come from?_ Draco thought frantically, but Granger's impatient sigh immediately distracted him from the inappropriateness of his flirting. Her haughty attitude put him in mind of activities where her superiority could be quite useful…

"I came from your bedroom, Malfoy. If you were as intelligent as I am you would have surmised as much." Draco could hardly bear the disdain in her lilting, amatory voice. Then he remembered that she was simply speaking to him as she always did.

"I knew that," Draco said. He attempted to snap at her, but instead his voice came out soft and coaxing. "Why were you in my dormitory?"

"Why not? I believe that I can go anywhere in this castle that I please," Granger said loftily. Draco thought she was awfully cute when she was being rude. "If you must know, I was searching for any illegal items. I will be Head Girl next year, naturally, and I want to cut down on rule-breaking. And since all criminal activities originate with Slytherin, I thought it prudent to start here."

"Well, maybe you missed some of my contraband. How about I give you a personal tour of the dormitory? My bed is often where the illegal exploits are committed. I think you should investigate most thoroughly."

Draco raised an eyebrow, hoping to look dashing. Hermione looked at him with utmost disgust.

"Thank you for the offer, Malfoy," she answered, wrinkling her adorable nose, her lip curling slightly. She really did have perfect lips. "But if there was anything there I would definitely have found it. Good day."

With that Hermione marched to the stone wall and left. Draco couldn't help but notice how her hips swayed as she walked regally into the hall beyond the door.

He then turned back to his unfaithful, treacherous coffee and took a long, satisfying sip.

"Slut," he muttered, glaring at the blasted pot as he devoured a rather charming chocolate biscuit.

Hermione Granger walked up the stairs, headed for Gryffindor tower. She was confused at her behavior of a couple minutes previously. What had possessed her to speak that way to Malfoy? Sure, he was an arrogant git, but he had been surprisingly nice - almost too nice - considering that she had just broken into his dormitory. He really didn't deserve the rudeness.

On that note, what had possessed her to enter the Slytherin dormitory? It was their private property that she had just violated. Even though they had been harboring more lewd photographs than she had known existed, they were still humans that deserved to be treated as such.

But then why had she threatened a trembling first year to obtain the Slytherin password in the first place?

Sure, she was more intelligent than practically anyone that she had ever met, but did that give her the right to trample on everyone?

_Of course it does_, said the smug little part of her personality that seemed to be very large today, as if it had gone through a sudden growth spurt.

_No it doesn't!_ squealed the moral piece of her nature, which had apparently been on vacation a few minutes ago.

_Yes, it does_, insisted her snobby side.

_I said no_! Her values were beginning to get upset. Soon they would be throwing a temper tantrum.

_Who is first in the year? Who got an "Outstanding" in almost every subject on her O.W.L.s?_ The mean little person who had apparently taken over her mind persisted. _Who is the one they always come to for help with homework? You! Why shouldn't you deserve a little respect? _

_Well, you do have a point there_, the upright, straight and narrow side of her admitted. She was the best in Hogwarts at every class. She was even trusted with a restricted magical object in her third year! Was it even conceivable to be cleverer than she? Hermione was fairly certain that it was an impossibility, and she smiled to herself as the conceited tyrant in her head strangled the ethical idiot, who died screaming no, I'm on your side!

Hermione was ruminating on the topic when she walked up to the Fat Lady's portrait, gave her the password ("We're better than Slytherin, ha!") and entered the Gryffindor common room. Ron was sitting in a chair near the fire, glaring balefully at Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. The two girls were sitting together, giggling and braiding their hair.

"Stupid gits, they think they're so clever," Hermione heard him mutter as she walked up. "With their nice, normal colored hair-"

"Hi, Ron!" Hermione said brightly, plopping down on the seat next to him. He barely glanced at her, but she barely noticed. "Don't you have homework? You will need my help with it, I suppose."

She made to get into his bag and withdraw his books, but the injurious look on his face stopped her. She began to feel irritated. She was offering up her precious time and energy to help him, and here he was refusing. As if he had a right to! The blow to her pride didn't so much hurt as it was crippling.

"I don't think it's fair," Ron now announced to her. "You have the brains, and Harry has the fame. What do I get?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's perfectly fair," she explained slowly, hoping if she enunciated he would understand. "You simply aren't good enough."

Ron's face turned a bright, shiny red. Hermione was completely baffled. Did he really expect that he was better than her, that he deserved something that she didn't?

"But I want what you guys have!" Ron snarled, jumping out of his seat. "And I don't care what you say, I should have it!"

With that last happy thought, Ron jumped to his feet and stalked out of the common room. As he neared Parvati and Lavender, he hissed something that Hermione didn't catch, but it was apparently offensive. The girls looked as though they were in shock as Ron went on his way, almost tripping as he climbed out the portrait hole.

Hermione sighed to herself. Some people were so emotional. It was a pity that everyone couldn't have the same cool intellect and self-possession as she.

Ron Weasley stormed down the hall, feeling very sorry for himself. And a little ashamed at how he had treated Hermione and the other two girls. He really shouldn't have been such a prat. It was completely uncalled for to run out on Hermione. And it hadn't really been necessary to tell Lavender and Parvati that it looked like they were wearing dead kneazles for wigs. It seemed that his inner child had suddenly become very spoiled, and wanted everything everyone else had.

Then again, Hermione did have all the smarts, she was also pretty, and the other two did were great looking as well. His mood soured even more as he spotted Seamus and Dean walking, laughing and talking with two pretty Ravenclaw fifth years. What did they have that Ron didn't? Why couldn't Ron get any of the girls that he liked? Everyone had everything that Ron had always wanted.

_No fair_, whined the baby inside him, why _can't I date a good-looking girl? Why do I have to look like a clown?_ Ron looked down at his large feet and ran his fingers through his mop of curly red hair, and scowled horribly at some passing first years, who looked rather scared and scampered away from him.

Even his little sister. Ron's scowl deepened as he came across Ginny. She was sitting at the Gryffindor table, and was eating from a box of chocolates, which was sitting on top of another box of chocolates, which was on another, and another. Behind the chocolate boxes on the table were about fifteen pitchers of butterbeer, and approximately three dozen chocolate chip cookies piled on a platter.

Ron felt himself burn with jealousy.

_Me want, me want!_ wailed his inner child. Ron went and sat next to his sister, who gave him a suspicious look and pulled the nearest box of chocolates out of his reach.

"Ginny, I want that," Ron said, holding out a hand. "Give it to me."

Ginny shook her head, and said something intelligible through a spray of crumbs as she ate an entire cookie in one bite.

"What?" Ron snapped, glaring at her as she washed the cookie down with a swig of butterbeer.

"I schmaid..." Ginny swallowed, "I said, you can't have it. I've never wanted to eat so much in my entire life."

Ginny had to stop talking, as she had stuffed three pieces of chocolate in her mouth at once.

"But it's not fair!" Ron wailed, slumping in his chair. "Everyone gets what they want, but not me! No, I had to grow up poor with five older brothers teasing me, and had to get stuck looking like a red-headed scarecrow, and wanting a girl I can't have."

Ginny said something, but her mouth was so full of chocolate that all that came out was a gurgle.

"What?" Ron snarled, looking on enviously as she swallowed those chocolates and drank some butterbeer to clear her throat.

"I said, I'm no better off than you! I grew up poor with six older brothers teasing me, looking like a red-headed scarecrow, and wanting a guy I can't have!"

"So what, you're a girl!" Ron bellowed, standing up suddenly and almost knocking a couple of pitchers over. "Everyone knows that female red-heads are good looking, while the guys are just funny-looking!"

Without warning, Ron grabbed two of the chocolate boxes.

"Ha! They're mine now!" he said gleefully, while pulling a pitcher of butterbeer toward him.

Ginny stood up now as well, and picked up the platter of cookies, grabbed the remaining two boxes of chocolate, and charmed the pitchers of butterbeer to follow her.

"Ron, you are mad," she chided him as she took a huge gulp of butterbeer, and stuffed another chocolate in her mouth as she walked away.

Ginny Weasley didn't understand what was wrong with her older brother, but at the moment she really couldn't care less. For some reason, all she could think about was food. The chocolate, butterbeer, and cookies were wonderful, but they just weren't stopping the cravings. She needed to go to the kitchen to find some steak. And mashed potatoes. And treacle tart and pumpkin pasties and ham sandwiches and oven-baked chicken...

Ginny's mouth began to water and she began to walk faster, stuffing more chocolate in her mouth. However, the chocolate only made her hungrier, and by the time she reached the hall with the painting that concealed the kitchen door she was in a full-scale run. She saw the painting of fruit, which looked to her as an oasis of cool water would look to a traveler in the hottest desert in existence. Thinking of deserts reminded her of desserts, and she began running even faster.

This was why she slammed right into Luna Lovegood a moment before reaching the painting. Luna toppled right over to the ground, and lay there with her eyes closed.

"Luna!" Ginny dropped to her knees while stuffing a cookie into her mouth and swallowing it almost whole. "I'm sorry! Let me help you up."

"No, I'm fine." Luna yawned so widely that Ginny could see down her throat. "I've never been so tired. This floor is quite comfortable; I think I'll take a nap."

Ginny glanced dubiously at the cold stone floor, then back at Luna, who opened her eyes slightly as she smiled up at Ginny.

"Can't you go to your dormitory?" she asked her, taking a huge swig of butterbeer. A bit slopped over onto the front of her robes, along with a large amount of drool as Ginny suddenly remembered that she could ask the house elves to make her some steak and kidney pudding.

"No, I don't really think I have the energy," Luna answered vaguely, her eyelids beginning to close. "I'm fine right here, thank you."

Ginny shrugged as she ate four cookies in quick succession. As long as Luna was all right, she didn't think it would hurt her to sleep right there on the floor. And anyway, there were far more important matters to attend to. Such as getting to the kitchen right now, before the hunger gnawing at her insides consumed her.

"Bye, Luna," Ginny called as she ate five chocolates, went to the fruit painting, ate two cookies, tickled the pear, drank half a flagon of butterbeer, and opened the kitchen door. Her last look back at her friend saw Luna resting peacefully. Ginny didn't even ponder the strangeness of this as she spotted a cake on a table in the kitchen, and went into a headlong dive to reach it.

Luna Lovegood had to study for her O.W.Ls, but she didn't really care. In fact, at the moment she really didn't care about anything. What did it matter if she got poor grades? There were better ways to pass the time than studying, or doing constructive things. Relaxing was the only important thing, the only thing worth doing. She didn't even have the energy to consider Ginny's odd behavior of the moment before, or to wonder why Ron Weasley gave her a filthy look as he stalked past her. She distinctly heard him mutter something about how some people are so darn lucky to be able to rest whenever they want, but the strangeness of this statement was lost on her as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

Luna was dreaming about relaxing in bed when she felt someone very heavy step on her. However, she couldn't summon the strength to open her eyes until she felt a hand rifling through her right pocket.

"It's not polite to rob someone while they're trying to take a refreshing nap, you know," Luna said vaguely, not particularly caring whether she was robbed, but quite aggravated at being awoken.

"What? I wasn't robbing you! You're mental, Luna!" Neville Longbottom stammered as he stuffed several Galleons into his pocket.

"Well, then, why'd you wake me? I was trying to sleep," Luna sighed as she closed her eyes, but her eyelids popped open again when she felt Neville's hand in her left pocket.

"All the Galleons were in the right one, you've got them all now," Luna said as she sleepily pushed his hand away.

"D'you have anything else valuable?" Luna heard Neville's voice from very far away; it was an annoying buzzing keeping her from blessed sleep.

"Take the bracelet on my right wrist. It's an antique, it'll probably fetch quite a bit. Now let me rest."

Luna felt Neville remove the bracelet, and sighed as silence finally enveloped her and she was able to drift off to sleep.

Neville Longbottom took the sword from a suit of armor in the kitchen corridor as he walked by, and was forced to run as the irate armor came after him. As he ran, sticking the sword in his belt, he ponder his tendency of late to beg, borrow, or steal anything worth gold that he could get his hands on.

Neville had never been very prone to take things from others, even as a small child. He had always been able to ignore any urge to steal what didn't belong to him, and the more he ignored it, the lesser it became. But currently, the tiny tendency towards thievery in him, normally seeming about the size of a mouse, seemed to have enlarged into a raging, ravenous dragon, hell-bent on money. And more money. And more money. There didn't seem to be any end to the depths of want in Neville's inner bandit, and as Neville snatched the bookbag from a first year as he ran past her, he wondered how such a thing had come about.

However, Neville didn't have the time to ponder the topic. As he entered the corridor adjacent to the kitchen corridor (the suit of armor had long since given up the chase), he saw Harry Potter marching down the corridor, a look of righteous fury on his face.

Neville immediately concealed himself behind a hanging tapestry, and watched as Harry stormed by. It seemed as though he were looking for something or someone, and Neville noticed that Harry appeared very distracted. The thought occurred to Neville that Harry wouldn't be likely to notice if Neville slipped behind him and carefully extracted his money bag from his pocket...

Waiting for a moment when Harry was opening a classroom door and peering inside, Neville snuck behind him and tried to slip a hand in Harry's right pocket without him noticing.

Abruptly, Neville found himself on the floor, the side of his face throbbing and Harry looking down on him with great ire.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Neville?" Harry screamed, spit flying from his mouth. Neville noticed that Harry looked quite deranged, and was unlikely to leave his pockets open for picking anytime soon.

"Nothing, Harry, I was going to tap you on the shoulder to get your attention but you hit me." Neville surreptitiously eyed Harry's watch as he tried to placate the unreasonably angry boy. The watch could fetch a Sickle or two, but would it really be worth risking a beating to get it?

"You were not!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. His face was twisted in rage, and Neville saw that he didn't seem to notice that Neville was edging closer. "You were putting your hand in my pocket, I felt it! What are you, a pervert?" Harry took an aggressive step forward to appear as a threat, and Neville silently thanked him as he reached a tentative, subtle hand toward his pocket.

"Um, my hand slipped," Neville tried to excuse his earlier behavior, but it was exceedingly difficult to lie and steal at the same time without Harry noticing.

"You're lying!" Harry snapped viciously. He took another step forward and pushed Neville on both shoulders. This was the best thing that could have happened for Neville, for the moment that Harry had pushed him Neville had managed to snatch his moneybag out of his pocket. Harry hadn't noticed, and Neville was able to shove the bag into his own pocket as he toppled to the ground.

"Stay away from me, Neville," Harry ordered. He looked as though he wanted to say a great deal more, but with a last furious look stalked off, leaving Neville sprawled on the ground.

Sighing in relief, Neville stood and brushed himself off. He set course for the Great Hall, reasoning that there were probably many people there with plenty of money. And they were bound to be a bit easier to pick-pocket than Harry.

Harry Potter stormed down the corridor, angrier than he had ever been in his life. He really didn't understand why he had blown up at Neville like that. His rage seemed out of control and completely inappropriate, yet he couldn't seem to get hold of himself and stop the burn.

As Harry stalked down the corridor, he felt his fury flare up again as he noticed a fourth year couple kissing in the hallway.

_Stupid prats_, Harry thought bitterly. _They're going to make someone ill. I should go and- _

With a great effort, Harry managed to prevent himself from turning and attacking the two students, whom he didn't know or particularly care about.

_What's wrong with me_? Harry berated himself, quite enraged at his lack of control over his anger. I just need to calm down. I'll just go to Madam Pomfrey and get a Draught of Peace or a Calming Concoction, something like that.

But for some reason unknown to him, the thought of going to Madam Pomfrey caused a surge of ire so great that it caused him to kick a stone statue as he rushed past it. The pain in his toe fed the flames of his fury even more, and he punched the statue in retaliation for hurting him.

Limping as he nursing his bruised and bleeding knuckles, Harry entered the corridor that led to the kitchen, not really understanding what he was doing or where he was going. All he could think about was that somewhere there was someone who had to pay for something.

With all-encompassing revenge on his mind, Harry marched purposefully down the hallway. The first person he came across was Luna Lovegood, who was in a deep sleep curled up on the stone floor. The sight of Luna resting peacefully absolutely infuriated Harry.

Blocking the corridor so people can't get by, how inconsiderate! Harry thought in indignant wrath. Walking aggressively to the spot where Luna lay, Harry prodded her roughly with his toe. When she didn't immediately wake and apologize for her horrible behavior, Harry became even angrier, and was readying himself to give her a right kick in the side when he was startled by the appearance of Ginny.

"Oh, good afternoon, Harry," Ginny mumbled through a mouthful of a quadruple decker ham sandwich. Harry noticed that she was carrying an extremely large basket teeming with all kinds of food and desserts.

How dare she carry around all that food, Harry thought furiously to himself. She needs to stop being so damn greedy. He was about to tell Ginny off forcefully for her crime, but before he could Ron caught his eye.

Ron was skulking down the corridor, looking glum. When his eyes lit on Harry his expression became even more sullen.

"Oh, if it isn't the great Boy Who Lived," Ron said sarcastically. "Spot some heroic thing that needs done so you can get even more attention? You self-righteous prat."

Only the thought that Ron was his best friend, and it probably wouldn't bode well for their relationship, stopped Harry from tackling him to the ground and beating the hell out of him. Instead, he opted for telling him off.

"Shut up, Ron! The last thing I need right now is your pathetic jealousy!"

Ron's face turned red, and he was obviously about to retort hotly when Hermione came upon them.

"Harry, Ron." Hermione sighed and shook her head in dismay. "It is too bad that the two of you possess such low intellects, or you would be able to lay aside your petty squabbles and see that there is nothing to be fighting about."

"You have no idea what we're fighting about!" Harry screamed at her. Hermione looked at him with maddening pity and contempt in her eyes.

"Harry, I'm so intelligent that I hardly need to ask what is going on. My keen instincts judged the situation in a second at the most. Now, you two need to come back to the common room so I can help you with your homework, since you are both absolutely useless without me."

"I am not useless-" Harry began as he started toward Hermione, determined to shake some sense into her. Fortunately or not, depending on how you look at it, this was the moment that Draco Malfoy happened upon the scene. He was holding an empty coffee pot and had an insane, hungry look on his face.

"Potter!" Malfoy looked at Harry with a very happy - almost too happy - expression on his face.

"How dare you talk to me!" Harry spat. "I hate the very sight of you! I'm going to pound you for daring to talk to me!" With that, Harry rushed toward Malfoy, pulling his fist back in preparation to punching his lights out. However the complete lack of struggle or fear from Malfoy made him pause.

"What is wrong with you? Why aren't you fighting back?" Harry couldn't believe Malfoy's nerve. At first he had the gall to actually talk to Harry, now he wasn't even putting up a fight?

"You mean you don't want me to be submissive?" Malfoy said in a strange, low voice. He had an unholy look on his face as he looked Harry up and down. Suddenly terrified on top of his anger, Harry let go of Malfoy's arm and took a step backward.

"You aren't going to, um, pound me?" Malfoy asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice. He then noticed Hermione, who had been watching the proceedings with a disgusted, bored look on her face.

"You know, I've always thought that air of superiority you have is immensely attractive." Malfoy smiled and sidled over to Hermione, but she fixed him with a snobbish look that seemed to quell him. He then turned his attention to Ron, who was shooting murderous, lustful glares at Malfoy's designer clothing.

"I like that look you're giving my robes, Weasley," he purred. "It's like you want to tear them right off of me." Ron went pale as Harry's rage finally boiled over.

"Stop that, Malfoy, you're going to put someone off their food!"

"Fat chance of that," Ginny muttered, biting a huge hunk off of a turkey leg. Malfoy's eyes lighted on her and brightened.

"Hey, other Weasley, why don't you come to the kitchen with me to refill my coffee?"

Ginny had been ignoring Malfoy until she heard the word "coffee." At that, she looked up and shot the empty coffee pot a lecherous look. Before she could answer Malfoy, however, Harry stepped in.

"Ginny won't be going anywhere with you, Malfoy! You're evil!" With that, Harry ran at Malfoy and tackled him to the ground. Unluckily, they landed right on top of Luna, who woke with a start.

"Oooh, a threesome," Malfoy said in ecstasy. Displeased, Luna tried to get out from under the two boys.

"I'm too tired for a threesome!" she exclaimed. "You two woke me from a perfectly good nap!"

"If Harry gets a threesome I want one!" Ron complained. Hermione simply rolled her eyes, as Ginny grabbed Malfoy's empty coffeepot from the ground.

"Not even a drop left!" Sniffing in indignation, Ginny let the pot drop again and turned her attention to a stack of buttered toast in her basket.

Harry ignored them, and started hitting Malfoy in the face as hard as he could. Even as his nose started to bleed and his lip split, Malfoy looked as though he were thoroughly enjoying the pain.

"God, Potter, I didn't know you were so into discipline!"

Howling in rage and disgust, Harry frantically got off of Malfoy and cast his eyes around for his wand, which he had somehow dropped in his exasperation. Instead, he again felt hands slipping into his pocket, and turned to grab Neville's arm.

"What did I tell you, you pervert!"

"A pervert!" Malfoy stood up and looked at Neville in delight. "Well, I usually don't go for the plump, semi-Squib types, but if you're willing, Longbottom..."

Neville's expression looked horrified for a moment, then he began to eye Draco's expensive watch.

"Well, all right then, Malfoy," Neville said, sidling up to Malfoy and putting an arm around his waist. Harry seemed to be the only person who noticed Neville's hand slipping into Malfoy's pocket and withdrawing his moneybag.

"Hey, why does Malfoy have all the sex appeal?" Ron looked simply green with envy. "I mean, Harry and Luna jumping all over him, Ginny wanting to 'go to the kitchen' with him, and Neville too! Why can't people be interested in me?"

"Well you see, Ron, money works wonders," Hermione explained loftily. "This I know, seeing as my parents are wealthy dentists. You frankly do not have to clout to attract gold-diggers, as these people obviously all are."

"I am not a gold-digger!" Harry shrieked. "And I wasn't jumping all over Malfoy like _that_! I just wanted to beat his sorry arse to a pulp!"

"I really just want to go to sleep," Luna now put in. She was curled up on the floor, her eyes sleepy and reproachful. "All of you are being quite loud."

"And all of you are going to be getting detention," a silky voice abruptly put in. All of the students turned to see Professor Snape watching them from the shadow cast by a large statue. "Potter, a detention for giving me a headache with your screeching." Snape gave Harry a smile as Harry clenched his fists in impotent rage.

"Weasley, a detention because you're just rather pathetic." Ron looked satisfied, at least, for getting what Harry had received.

"Miss Granger, a detention for thinking too much of yourself." Hermione looked as though she would have a heart attack at the insult to her flawlessness.

"Miss Weasley, a detention for stealing from the kitchen." Ginny shrugged, beginning to take another large bite of her turkey leg, but looked astonished and desperate when Snape Vanished it and the rest of her food.

"Longbottom, a detention for attempting to steal from me." Snape slapped away Neville's hand which had been about to snake into his pocket.

"Miss Lovegood, a detention for sleeping in improper places. Miss Lovegood?" Snape looked immensely displeased when Luna didn't even stir.

"And Draco, if you weren't my favorite student I would give you a detention for having horrible, horrible taste in romantic partners."

"I wouldn't mind a detention with you in your office, sir," Malfoy said, looking hopeful. Snape gave him a look, and sighed when Malfoy winked at him.

"I supposed I've had my fun," Snape said, looking a bit depressed. "Finite Incantatum!"

Harry suddenly felt his anger lift, being replaced by utter relief that he could finally calm down. Looking at the others, he saw that Ron looked slightly confused and very discomposed, Hermione looked mortified, Ginny looked rather sick to her stomach, Luna was getting up off the floor and wincing, Neville was frantically pulling Galleons out of his pocket and looking at them in horror, and Malfoy looked utterly disgusted.

"I hit on Gryffindors," he groaned, looking queasy. "A couple Weasley's, even. I'm so dirty."

"Harry, Hermione, I'm sorry I was such a prat," Ron said, looking horribly embarrassed. "I'm really not that jealous of you guys. Seriously, I'm not."

"It's okay, Ron," Hermione consoled him. "If you forgive me for being so arrogant. I don't think I'm better than the both of you. Really. I don't."

"No problem, Ron," Harry said generously. "And I shouldn't have yelled. Or hit Neville, or beat up Malfoy and smashed Luna, or-"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ginny cut him off, moaning. Harry noticed that her stomach was quite distended. She leaned against Luna, who patted her shoulder comfortingly.

"I need to be off now, loads of homework to do," Luna said in dreamy cheerfulness, quite unaffected by the whole mess. She accepted her money and bracelet back from Neville with a smile, and as she left he turned to the rest.

"These are yours," he said nervously, handing Harry back a large amount of Galleons and Sickles. "I have to go find about ten other people and a certain suit of armor..."

Neville wandered off, mumbling to himself and looking miserable, as Harry turned and glared at Snape.

"So, sir, what happened to us? Why did we all go mad like that?"

"Oh, an evil plan of the Dark Lord's," Snape said in an offhand manner. "You can blame everything that happened on him." He beckoned to Malfoy, and put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as the boy shook in suppressed horror. Harry could have sworn he heard Snape ask Malfoy if he had meant what he had said about detention as they walked down the corridor and the fact that Malfoy ran away screaming hysterically seemed to confirm that fact.

Shaking his head to rid it of the nasty mental pictures, Harry turned back to the others.

"So," he started awkwardly. Hermione and Ron were avoiding his and each others' eyes, and Ginny had her hands clutched around her stomach.

"I really am going to be sick," she said, her eyes widening as she ran off toward a bathroom. Harry watched her go, feeling too embarrassed to look at his two closest friends.

"Let's pretend none of this ever happened," Hermione then said, falsely bright. "We didn't mean any of it anyway, did we?"

"No, of course not," Ron said swiftly. "So let's forget about it. Except for when we torment Malfoy for hitting on us."

Hermione and Harry agreed. The three of them started toward the Gryffindor common room, secure in the knowledge that after this they were all still best friends, and that they would always be able to torture Malfoy with his lustful pursuits.

Epilogue

"My plan was foiled yet again!" Voldemort paced in front of his two cringing Death Eaters, and one yawning spy.

"My Lord, I'm sorry," Lucius said as he trembled. What he was apologizing for was unknown; he just seemed to think an apology was in order. Pettigrew nodded his agreement fearfully.

"Shut up, Lucius! Stop sniveling, Peter! Severus!" Voldemort rounded on Snape, who was filing his nails and looking preoccupied.

"Yes, Master of All Things Unholy?" Snape said, sarcasm positively dripping from his voice. Voldemort affected not to notice.

"How could my plan have failed? It was ingenious, it was flawless, it was fail-safe!" Voldemort's eyes were popping, and he seemed in imminent danger of cardiac arrest.

Snape considered what would be the best lie, then opted for the safest tactic.

"It was all Potter's fault," he said gravely. "He figured out too quickly what was happening, and stopped the spells before they could advance enough to hurt the children badly. That rat bastard."

"You have to be sworn to the Dark Side to be able to stop those spells," Voldemort said slowly, looking at Snape with a rather suspicious look in his fire-engine red eyes. "How could Potter stop them?"

"Um, he swore himself over to our side," Snape quickly improvised.

"Oh, that makes sense," Voldemort muttered as he frowned thoughtfully. "Well then, if he's one of my followers now I can stop trying to kill him. I suppose I'll focus my attention on the other boy that could have been in the prophecy, Neville Longbottom. Now, all I need is another fool-proof plan..."


End file.

Harry Potter, Humor, Parody