El-oh-el in the C of S

By KillGenevieve

The onset of night had brought with it a slight breeze that momentarily alleviated the oppressive heat. However, Harry Potter still tugged at the collar of his robes in an attempt to expose just one more centimeter of his saturated skin to the cool gust, which felt like a long awaited embrace from a lover at that point. He felt the sudden urge to tear off his clothes and let the zephyr engulf his sweating body (which he was positive all the girls in the castle watching him at that very moment were longing for), but the air stilled a moment later, leaving him with a great lump of disappointment in his belly and a fishy smell in his nostrils which could only indicate merpeople breeding season in the Black Lake.

"Merlin's beard," thought Harry exasperatedly, "this means Hagrid'll be out here guilting us into collecting fish people eggs for days! Note to self: do NOT suggest a visit to Hagrid's any time soon."

With a flip of his hair (again, for the ladies he was he knew were there) and a burning desire to not be anywhere near the lake in case the aforementioned giant also caught a whiff of the lake's scent and came running, Harry trudged back up to the castle, where a 24-inch essay for Professor Snape awaited him like a needy spouse who'd been alone all day. Oh, good dear, you're home! I was getting so worried that you'd miss dinner with the children! How was your day? He could imagine the blank parchment saying all this as he would sit down to attempt progression past writing his own name for the fifth time.

The whole reason he'd been strolling by the lake in the first place was a valient effort on Harry's part to clear his embarrassingly vacant mind (with the small hope that the non-medicinal antidote for all six poisonous "Burbulous Konkoctions" would fall out of the sky from the womb of a low-flying thestral, as 17th century potions were not his forte), but Snape's infuriating gloat of a voice rang through his ears every time he tried to think about something other than doing homework all night long.

"Second note to self (he always imagined a cute little French secretary taking these notes in his head): ask Hermione about that Memory Charm that I can't quite get the grasp of...kind of like every other aspect of magic they're teaching me in this stupid school!" he thought bitterly as he shoved through the double doors, "A bloody war with Voldemort is going on and I 'm stuck here, failing all my miserable classes! This isn't fair, I'm the boy who lived!"

Suddenly, the teenage angst bubbled up in his throat and the pubescent wizard knew he was about to break down into sobs of despair. Realizing that a dreadfully attractive second year boy crying would only attract hoards of love-struck girls from every grade level (a wise thought that would only occur to a humble warlock boy such as himself), Harry ran like the solar wind to the most inconspicuous hiding spot a male could find: the girls' lavatory.

As he wrenched open the door, he noticed a gigantic hole where one of the sinks would have been had it not been levitating 17 feet in the air. Figuring that the legions of girls were still in hot pursuit (in reality, no one had actually seen him exit or reenter the castle), he dashed to the opening, muttering angrily all the way.

"Oh, if only I weren't so angry or orphaned or famous or attractive or--oh, hi, Ginny! How're y--WAAAAAH!"

And with that, Harry fell (as manly as he could manage) down into the dark abyss that stretched infinitely before him.