Into The Burrow
Written by Mel, the Olive Sailor
Summary: After a freaky-psycho-chick-writer read and watched the "Harry Potter" series, she knew it was her duty to change it into what she, and some others, imagined. One shot and yaoi.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the series… J.K. Rowling does, that lucky bastard. (I wish I owned the Weasley twins, Sirius, Lupin and Neville.) : 3
WARNING: I have realized (like many of you, I'm sure) that I'm a perverted fan girl/boy and that my mind sometimes goes off without my knowledge. So, I'm just telling you to be careful in my brain's perverted-ness. All of this was thought up while I was watching or reading the series.
Source:
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Year Two by J.K. Rowling
Scholastic Paper Back, Copyright 1998-1999
Original Text:
Chapter 3, "The Burrow"
Pages 40-41
Hi.
I'm back again to write these weird modifications to Harry Potter.
So, here's a simple guide to follow throughout these changes:
Everything in Italics is real from a book or movie (unless I'm putting stress on a word).
All the writing that's Normal and unchanged is my own creation.
That's the guide.
Okay, now that that's all over…
Please enjoy my first modification.
Into The Burrow
Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace: Nearly everything in Ron's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Harry realized that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks, and waving energetically.
"Your Quidditch team?" said Harry.
"The Chudley Cannons," said Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black C's and a speeding cannonball. "Ninth in the league."
Ron's school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics that seemed to feature The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Ron's magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawn on the windowsill, next to his fat gray rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun.
Harry stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking one by one back through the Weasleys' hedge. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion.
"It's a bit small," said Ron quickly. "Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning…"
But Harry, grinning widely, said, "This is the best house I've ever been in."
Ron's ears went pink.
(Mel Note: This is where the perverted part of me imagines stuff.)
Harry smiled and pushed Ron down onto the bright orange bedspread, taking his chapped lips into his own. He maneuvered himself on him, sitting, legs spread, over Ron's pelvis.
Weasley's shaking hands clamped down on his waist, sneaking up his dirty shirt.
Harry's tongue entered Ron's mouth, invading every crevice, tasting everything.
Harry's body began to lift a bit; the bulge in Ron's pants was expanding. Harry, whose mid-section was only four layers on clothing from Ron's you-know-what, could feel it and was getting hard too.
Ron, slowly, determined to cause friction between them, sat up. Harry was still in his lap, their limbs all over each other's bodies. Ron's digits were searching the familiar ground called "Harry's Chest" while Harry's skinny legs were wrapped around the redhead's waist, pressing heat on his abdomen. Their mouths were still at each other.
Ron decided to take this further. He stood up, with Harry still with him, and went towards the wall, pushing Harry against a Chudley Cannons poster. Ron took the brunette's hands and slammed them on the wall, frightening the Quidditch players.
"No! Not here, lads! Get a room!" The captain shouted.
"But, this is a room…" another said.
"Oh yeah."
Harry smirked into his kiss at the comments. Ron had taken off his sweater and was working on Harry's. The force of the sweater on Harry's head made his glasses all to the floor with a clatter. Ron was about to go fetch them when Harry stopped him by saying, "No… please don't get them… I only want to feel" —he grabbed blindly at Ron's pants— "this."
Ron chuckled, "Okay."
Harry could only see in blurs, but Ron came closely into him. He kissed him softly, the sweet sound of the smack echoing in the small, hot room.
"Turn around", whispered Ron and Harry did.
Weasley gripped Potter's hands from behind and stretched them out to either side. Their fingers knotted like shoelaces.
Harry was breathing hard, he could feel Ron at the small of his back. Ron's exhale traced the curve of Harry's neck and shoulders, then he said softly "You'll let me go all the way this time, right?"
Harry stifled a laugh.
"Of course… after being away from you all this summer, why wouldn't I? I've wanted it so bad."
"Me too."
One of Ron's hands let go and traveled down to the fly of Harry's pants. He un-did the button and pulled the zipper down.
The loud bang of the door hitting the wall sounded through the room.
"Hey, Ron, Harry… we were wondering if you—"
The twins stopped dead in their tracks to see Ron's red head hit the ground.
Fred and George stared and then burst into laughter.
"Oi, what's happening here? Why've you got your shirts off?" George asked.
Ron rubbed his head.
Harry spoke first.
"We — umm — w-we were seeing, uh, who has more… muscles. Yeah, that's it." he said to the tall, red blurs.
"And clearly it's Harry! I mean, did you see that blow?" Ron stood and handed Harry his glasses.
"Apparently, that's not all you're showing!"
George laughed as he pointed down to his brother's pants.
Ron covered himself and blushed.