Title: Take that, Potter!
Author: MajinSakuko
E-Mail: MajinSakukoyahoo.de
Beta-Reader: hailiebu
Disclaimer: I own nothing, JKR everything else
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Main-Chara: HP/DM, SS/RL
Rating: PG-13
Genre/s: Humour, Romance (Slash)
Warning/s: Silliness, a bit morbid, reader's action
Summary: Draco curses Harry, but, as it is so often the case in these fics, it
goes awfully wrong. Or does it? H/D Slash with a healthy dose of Snape/Lupin
A/N: Takes place in Harry's seventh year. A/U after middle of fourth year. Wormtail
paid his wizard's debt, cooking Voldemort in the cauldron instead of reviving
him. Sirius is liberated, Cho and Cedric are together, and Harry is free for
all - evil - purposes.
Please follow the instructions while you are reading!
From the second Harry Potter cracked open his eyes on this fateful Monday morning, he knew it was destined to be a crappy day. Monday mornings usually were, what with all the Potions lessons first thing after breakfast, but this Monday was worse. Harry just knew it. It was, as they say, in the air.
At first, Harry overslept and had to hurry to wash up. When he stood in front of the mirror, it told him (apart from the usual "Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!" and "Ever heard of a hairbrush, tousle-head?") to "Love yourself - no one else does, anyway."
Harry gaped at the mirror in shock. Love advice - and such a crude one to boot - was not something he cared to receive. Maybe someone had hexed the mirror? Harry frowned. That would have been Fred and George's field of expertise, and those two pranksters had left Hogwarts already. Harry's already downtrodden mood went down even further. He shot a last glance at the mirror, wincing at his own forlorn look - no one loved him! - before leaving for breakfast and the next surprise - but he didn't know that yet.
Harry was just busy stuffing himself with pancakes and the likes while surreptitiously glaring daggers at all the cute couples around him - how dare they be happy and in love when he was not? - when the owl post arrived. He didn't bother looking up as he wasn't awaiting any letters. Thus he was surprised that a small barn owl that he didn't recognise landed on his plate. The owl carried a letter in its beak - a red vibrating one - and its gaze was piercing.
"Oh!" said Hermione. "Who's sending you this kind of letter, Harry?" Her eyes held a strange gleam to them, causing Harry to squirm uncomfortably in his seat.
"Dunno," he said.
"Whose owl is that?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"I dunno," Harry repeated, untying the letter from the owl's leg and watching the bird fly back out of the window, maple syrup dripping from its talons. The small envelope was nearly throbbing in his fingers, and Harry feared that the Howler would start screaming any second now. He hated those letters; they were so bloody embarrassing. He'd only gotten a Howler once - unlike Ron who was receiving them on a regular basis from his mother - after he'd killed Voldemort so-to-speak. Obviously, only one Death Eater was going to miss his master; the others had sent Harry thank-you gifts and good-luck cards. It was a bizarre world he lived in.
The red envelope leapt into the air right in front of Harry. It ripped open, morphing into a mouth. For a fleeting moment, Harry could have sworn that it was smiling coyly at him before it screamed, "YOU!"
Choose the Whisperer or the Howler