Here is some more poo to add to the pile. HA Ha hA hahahaha!!! I must be REALLY bored…

Harry Potter: The Boy Who Died

One day, at exactly three past two, Harry Potter died. His friends were distraught.

Hermione: Oh, me!

Ron: Oh, my!

Hermione: Harry Potter died!

Malfoy: Oh dear, how sad

Ron: I think I'm going to spew

Malfoy: Please don't

Ron: I will!

Hermione: What ever shall we do?

No one asked how or why Harry Potter died. To them, it was quite obvious. Who else would try to kill Harry Potter but Lord Voldemort? Really, you would be a fool to think otherwise.

No one knew that Dumbledore had killed Harry Potter. No one even suspected. No one thought that Dumbledore, with his disturbing smile and twinkling sapphire blue eyes, was capable of such an inhuman act. For really, in killing Harry Potter, Dumbledore had sealed the fates of every single person living on the earth. Because everyone knew that Harry Potter was the only person who could kill Voldemort (this secret had leaked out when Snape was on a drunken rampage).

No one suspected, that is, except for Malfoy, because Malfoy had a sick and twisted mind. But no one really listened to Malfoy anymore because he had lost all his status when his father went to prison. And since Malfoy had never bothered to make any real friends, he was now bitter and lonely and had taken to slinking around the castle and finding out dark secrets that were of no use to him because no one would listen to a word he said. That was how he found out about Dumbledore.

To be fair, Harry Potter had been more manslaughtered than actually murdered. In fact, you could probably say that Dumbledore had just been in the wrong place in the wrong time. Nevertheless, Harry Potter was dead, and he had died needlessly at the hand of the one man he had thought he could trust.

It had happened like this:

Dumbledore had been lying face down in a disused Hogwart's corridor pretending to be dead, and Malfoy had been lurking in the rafters above, and Harry Potter had been on one of his midnight strolls. He often took midnight strolls, so he could continue to dwell on how unfair his life was, and how everyone he loved always died in some horrible manner. Harry Potter was so lost in thought that he did not see Dumbledore's body lying stretched out on the floor. Dumbledore didn't hear Harry Potter coming because he was going deaf. Malfoy didn't say anything because he had a sick and twisted mind.

Then Harry Potter tripped over Dumbledore and died instantly. It was not a glorious death, nor a particularly untimely one, but it was a death, and one Dumbledore had to cover up. And cover it up he did.

Most people got over it in time, and some, like Ron, realised it was even pleasant not to be always living in the shadow of a hero. Others, like Hermione, had strange urges to talk about, and even eat, poo. Unfortunately, there was still the problem of who was going to kill Lord Voldemort. Malfoy volunteered but no one took him seriously, and so they had to pick Neville Longbottom, because he had the right birthday or some such nonsense, and he had the added bonus of having never eaten poo…