Rating: R (downgraded from NC-17) for language, lots of crack, and a rampant case of innuendo
Pairings: Harry/Hermione, Harry/Snape, Harmonians/delusion
Summary: Now that the whole good vs. evil rubbish has been disposed of, Harry can finally pursue his real quest.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR, the delusions belong to Harmony, and the snark belongs to me.
Author's Note: Inspired by this comment I made on Fandom_Wank and fellow wanka life_on_mars's request for an expanded version. I suppose I'm going to hell for this.
It was over. Voldemort had been defeated.
It hadn’t been easy, and there had been many casualties. Among others, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Tonks, Viktor Krum, Lavender Brown, Nigel Creevey, and the big black guy who kept asking all the questions in Trelawney’s class third year had all lost their lives.
Oh, and Ron had died, too, but he had always been a fucking pansyass woman-abuser, and frankly Harry was glad to be rid of him.
That fucking whorecrux Ginny Weasley had also perished, but actually she had died several days before the end of the war, from about 87 varieties of venereal disease, one for each of the blokes whom she had invited into her Room of Requirement. Thank fucking Merlin the effect of the love potion she had slipped Harry had worn off before he had allowed his Philosopher’s Stones to come in contact with her Kneazle.
Now it was time for Harry to fulfill his real purpose in life: to Explode in Hermione’s Snap, to make his Gobstones spurt into her Entrance Hall, to send his Whizzing Worm into her Crookshanks.
"Hermione Caina Granger, I love you," breathed Harry as he caressed her silky brown hair. She grinned at him, showing her beautiful, straight, perfectly proportioned white teeth.
"I love you, too, Harry. I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. Do you remember that day? We were on the Hogwarts Express…."
Hermione continued reminiscing, and Harry adjusted his own Hogwarts Express. It was nearly eleven o’clock, and his platform nine and three-quarters was crowded beyond the point of comfort. He had waited so long, and now it was time.
"Hermione," he groaned as she fondled his Pocket Sneakoscope with her Hand of Glory. "Hermione, I—"
"Not so fast, Potter." Harry looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway. The sight of his professor caused Harry’s tent to fold faster than the ones at the Quidditch World Cup had burned.
"Professor Snape," Harry gasped. "Can’t you see you’re intruding on a very private moment?"
"Oh, no doubt, Potter. I see that Miss Granger has mastered the use of her Put-Outer in record time. Miss Granger, you always were a…precocious student," Snape drawled silkily.
"Yes, well, Professor," said Hermione airily, "would you mind leaving us alone? I mean, thanks for helping kill Voldemort and all that, but…we’ve waited a very long time for this moment, and now that Harry and I are finally canon, we’d like to do the Hippogriff, and we don’t need you watching."
"I’m sorry to say, Miss Granger, that I cannot allow for this to happen, for I, too, have been waiting for Potter, and I will not allow you to come in the way of our love."
"Er—what?" sputtered Harry.
"You heard me correctly, Potter. I’ve longed to dip my wand in your cauldron for seven long years." Snape reached down and started stroking his Slytherin serpent. "My Remembralls have been burning bright red for you, Harry Potter, and I can’t pretend to forget this desire any longer. I must toss my parchment into your Goblet of Fire!"
Snape stalked across the room towards Harry, his robes swishing, and pulled Harry off of Hermione and into his own arms.
"Oh, Harry," he said, unsheathing Harry’s Gryffindor Sword in one swift motion. "I’ve been waiting so long to toss my Quaffle through your hoop, to tickle your Golden Snitch, to Beat your Bat, to send my Bludger straight into your—"
"Not so fast, Snape!"
Harry looked towards the door once again and saw a handsome, deranged-looking man standing there.
"Barty Crouch, Jr.!" Snape erupted. "What are you doing here? I thought the Dementors had sucked you dry."
Crouch looked confused. "Where did you get that idea? The last time I saw you, I was flicking my tongue as you brandished your wand in my face."
Snape, who still had his hand wrapped around Harry’s Gryffindor pride, furrowed his brow. "Well, then…if the Dementors didn’t Kiss you, then what happened?"
"After you showed me yours and I showed you mine—" Crouch paused for a moment as he adjusted his Winky "—I simply walked out of Hogwarts. Since I was a wanted man in the wizarding world, I decided to live amongst the Muggles for a while. I had no marketable skills, so I fell into the only profession available—"
"Prostitution?" asked Hermione, adjusting her robes to cover her Burrow.
"No, foolish Mudblood, acting. I got the title role in a Muggle television show called Dr. Who." Crouch flicked his tongue several times for good effect.
"Doctor who?" asked Snape as he fingered Harry’s boomslang skin.
"Yes," replied Crouch.
"No, Doctor who?" repeated Snape.
"Yes, Dr. Who," Crouch said again.
"No, what I want to know is—never mind. So what do you want, Crouch? Get on with it so that I can finally explore Mr. Potter’s cupboard under the stairs."
"That’s just it, Snape. I cannot allow your Prongs to get anywhere near Harry’s Moony." Crouch cleared his throat and then continued, "Hello, my name is Barty Crouch, Jr. You killed my master; prepare to die."
And before anyone could do anything, Crouch pointed his wand at Snape and ejaculated, "Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light shot out of the tip of Crouch’s wand and hit Snape squarely in the chest. Snape’s body immediately became flaccid, and he dropped onto the ground.
Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK, and Harry looked over at the doorway to see Neville Longbottom standing there holding his toad, Trevor.
"Oh my god! Dr. Who killed Snarry!" Neville shouted.
Trevor the toad then croaked out something that sounded remarkably like, "You bastard!"
Then, with another deafening CRACK, both Neville and Trevor disappeared into thin air. Crouch grabbed Snape’s limp body and dragged it out of the room, and Harry found himself alone with Hermione.
"Well…now that that’s all over…," said Harry, pulling out his lunascope and crystal balls as he approached Hermione once more.
"Harry," she breathed as he stood over her. "There’s just one thing you should know before we explore each other’s Forbidden Forests."
"What’s that, my love?"
"Well," said Hermione, "it’s just that my Slytherin locket’s never been opened before, so I—I’m a bit nervous."
Harry smiled down at her. "Don’t worry, Hermione," he said as he gently pried open her Vanishing Cabinet and began to tickle it with his sugar quill. "I won’t hurt you."
Harry’s Parseltongue then opened Hermione’s Chamber of Secrets, and before the cock could crow, his Basilisk was sliding through her plumbing.