I hate wands. Theres something truly about them that repulsed me. Bits of former living things encased in wood, and capable of manipulating souls with a flick and a few words. Teenagers able to bend physics over and give it a dry buggering. Wands also seems capable of erasing all common sense from their wielders, the second they touch one.

Myself included.

In accordance with my lack of common sense, I'd done a great many experiments with magic. After many bitter disappointments in my attempts to find extraterrestrial life on earth, I decided to try and travel to them.

Experiment #1: Portkey space travel.

Portkeys do not appear to be capable of penetrating a Faraday cage was my first discovery. With a vague idea of the basics of physics, I sent a timed portkey clock to the moon. When it came back, it was 2.12 seconds behind the synchronized wristwatch. I was very disappointed with the confirmation of Einstein's theory of relativity. The portkey traveled at the speed of light or somewhere near it. It would be far too fast to navigate in space with. Time nearly stops for atoms traveling at the speed of light.

Outcome: Portkey space travel is out. I would not age while using it for galactic travel, but the universe around me would age at a greatly accelerated rate. There would be no way to perceive my location or destination when millions of relative years pass for every second I experienced. Ability to dodge theoretical 'dark energy' or theoretical 'dark matter' would be greatly impaired. Outcome can change after I find a way to tell relativity to go fuck itself.

Experiment #2: Apperation space travel.

I began with observing my apperations using easily stolen slow motion and high definition cameras. At 1000 frames per second, you can see on average four frames at the moment of apperation. It appears that my body collapses into itself in an inwards spiral. My next step was apperating with large objects. It appears that the center of mass, relative to weight, between myself and large objects collapse in a spiraling motion before disappearing. My next test involved apperating with a 8x12 foot, two foot thick, solid lead Faraday cage, and clock to the moon and back. There was no time difference between the clock left on Earth and the synchronized clock inside the lead box. I could barely escape from the cube before I experienced the symptoms similar to heat-stroke. I assume it is magical exhaustion, as I had no experience with magical medicine.

Outcome: Apperation is also out. Apperation appears to be the possible formation of an event horizon of an Einstein-Rosenberg bridge. The spiraling motion suggests that even magical transportation follows the laws of relativity... kinda. It appears that the longer the distance, the more energy the transportation takes. 300,000,000 kilometers and back appears to be my limit. Outcome can change after I find a way to to tell magical exhaustion to go fuck itself.

And then the LSD wore off...

-000-

The healer poked and prodded me with his wand as muffled insults spewed from my mouth. I was having fun. If the healer can get me out of Draco's head, I win. If the healer can't, I still win. I don't know what I'd do if I have to wake up on Draco Malfoy's first day of school again. It won't be pleasant for anyone to say the least.

The silencing charm only works on me, when I let it. As long as I'm awake and sober enough to think relatively clearly. If I smoked and eighth of sugar-leaf, I was still fit to use magic... and drive.

If I drank three forties, smoked an eighth, parachuted two ex-ohs, and a sniffed a few dozen bumps of white girl... I still drove. If a bit dangerously. Magic was the same.

After four years of wandlessly warping reality, I knew my fare share of magic tricks.

A few minutes under my 'mothers' tender glare, the healer started sweating. A few more, and he was shaking in his ugly little leather shoes. "I detect one spell in his blood that I can't seem to remove."

"What kind of spell!?" Narcissa grabbed the healer by the robes and shouted in his face.

"F...fer... fertility based." The frightened healer stuttered out. A big dick spell? I laughed through the gag. "He will only be able to have one-" I stopped laughing.

"That curse runs in the bloodline." Lucius interrupted. "Keep searching."

The ropes binding me vanished with a crack. I have a pretty short temper when my junk is involved. It may not really be 'my' junk, but... It was my junk! I spit out the cloth gag. Lucy began to pull his wand. The healer jerked out of the mega milf's death grip and shrieked like a little girl.

A snap of my fingers made all the difference in the world. The examination room was silenced as the door melted into the wall. Sabrina the middle-aged bitch found herself ball-gagged and hogtied in a French maids' outfit. The healer gained a gimp mask and a sturdy set of iron shackles. Lucy though... got special treatment.

Armless, legless, and without larynx or eyelids, Lucy was in the form I favored for Nazi interrogation. The healer started to squeal through the gimp mask before I silenced him and Narcissa. I stepped over to Lucy and popped a squat on his heaving chest. Hissing and gasping sounds escaped his quietly screaming face.

Resting my hands on his temples, I gazed into his eyes. I 'imagined' myself punching a hole into his mind. I then imagined a straw in my mouth, sucking in his secrets. I felt ill as a stream of memories flashed before my eyes.

Lucy with a little muggle-born girl...

Lucy with a little muggle boy...

Lucy with a geriatric muggle...

A death-eater initiation ceremony...

A curse in the Malfoy bloodline to only be able to father one child...

My temper passed all realms of reason as my rage was amplified by my sobriety. "Die you long-haired knock-off Nazi rapist!"

I imaged the left and right sides of his brains colliding at the speed of light. I realized as soon as I did it, the mistake I had made. As the first two atomic nucleus's touched something for the first time since a previous supernova, the UK burned with nuclear fire.

-000-

"Young master must wake up-" "Argh!" I yelled as I slapped the house-elf across the face. He or she wailed loudly as 'it' fell off the bed and flopped to the floor.

"Does this shit ever end!" I screamed to the ceiling.

"Of course it does," a females voice said from the foot of the bed.

Liz Hurley stood at the foot of my bed. Silky brunette hair flowed down graceful shoulders. A large serpent curled around her shoulders. The tiny shimmering red bikini looked a few sizes too small. I don't know if I should shit myself or celebrate.

"Subtle," was the first thing that came to mind.

"No need to play a guessing game on just who is pulling your strings." The supermodel smiled in a way that was more sinister than friendly.

"uh..." I could think of nothing to say to this... entity. In lieu of words, I conjured a lit joint and took a long toke. "So- cough cough- how exactly did you become my string-puller?"

The Morning Star raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, stupid question. So... uh... What can I do for you oh Shining One?"

"No more joints for you, you rude little shit." She/He/It snapped it's fingers in a very familiar fashion. My joint vanished with a crack. I found myself on my back with one of 'not Liz Hurleys' ruby studded heels digging into my throat.

"Whatever you like," I managed to wheeze out through my pinched windpipe. Her heel let off on the painful pressure. I broke into a hacking cough as my lungs drew in sulphuric scented air.

"I'm in need of entertainment," The Lord of Pride put it's hands on it's hips and bent at the waist to peer down into my frightened eyes. The little red strip of shiny fabric hiding The Beast's nipples from view did nothing to conceal the jiggling busty mammary glands. "And you will provide it."

My brain was running at the speed of a million dirty thoughts a second.

The serpent uncoiled from her shoulders and slid down between her cleavage. A sharp shiny heel struck me in the side of the head, "Pay Attention!" The serpent bit me in the side of the neck.

"Jesus Christ!" I squealed as the serpent bit down.

No ogling Satan ever again!

"When has he ever helped you? I don't think he'll start now." The Light Bringer crossed her arms and it pushed her her bust up and out.

The serpent shook it's head like a dog with a bone.

"I'm listening! I'm Listening!"

-000-

Hogwarts Express, September, 1st, 1993

I sat in the last compartment on the train, sipping a margarita and nursing my aching head. Crabbe and Goyle sat opposite of me, munching on some truly freaky candy. Who the hell came up with cockroach clusters? "So guys," I got their momentary attention, speaking for the first time since the Son of the Dawn dropped the bomb on me.

"I need a favor."

"Are you alright? Why do you sound so funny, Draco?" Vinny the crab inquired.

"Don't worry about that, I need you to do something." I waved away the chubby little boy's concerns.

"Anything" Goyle answered for them both.

"Thanks, boys." They slumped over, leaning on each-other as their eyes closed shut.

As my mind reached out to begin warping the minds of the boys, only one thought crossed my mind. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke. I need a toke.

I attempted to conjure a loaded bong, but it didn't work.

Damn Lucifer the extortionist.