Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise. Nor do I particularly want to. I do not own Hungry Bitches. Nor would I take it if it were gift-wrapped.

Warning: Parodic nastiness ahead. If you have seen the trailer commonly referred to as "2 Girls 1 Cup" you'll recognize elements of it in this story. If you haven't seen the trailer, you don't want to. Trust me on this. If you're looking for literary merit, a plot that makes any kind of sense, or a worthwhile way to spend a few minutes, this story is not what you're looking for. Trust me on this.

...oooOOOooo...

2 Girls 1 Cup

'H' 'a' 'r' Was it one R or two? Spelling never made any sense. 'r' 'i'. That doesn't look right, but with this worthless eye always needing cleaning, nothing ever looks right. 'J' 'a' Blast this old, arthritic hand for getting tired already! 'n' 'e' What was that? Nothing. 'P' 'o' 't' 't' 'e' 'r'. Fold it up and we're off downstairs. You'll get yours, Potter, wait and see.

...oooOOOooo...

Harry sat next to Hermione at the Selection Feast. She was his lifeline, the only thing keeping him from going crazy. It had been a mostly bad summer (Dursleys and Death Eaters), a poor first two months of the school year (Death Eater spawn feeling their oats on top of the usual Snape, Trelawney, and DADA professor of the year), and an utterly rotten last few days (swaggering Durmstrangers lording it over the Hogwarts students and staff, prissy Beauxbatoners complaining about everything, Slytherins showing off to impress the Durmstrangers, Ron obsessing over that one French girl, and that one French girl). And today, of course, was Halloween, hardly a stellar day on the Harry Potter calendar. "I tell you, Hermione, if this Halloween is like every other Halloween, I'm going to lose it. I'm tired of the garbage that keeps getting dumped on me."

"Just relax, Harry. It'll be fine. Just wait and see."

Harry looked at Hermione skeptically but kept quiet about his dreams of rampaging through the school or of feeding Dumbledore's beard into a kitchen garbage disposal.

Before long Dumbledore was reading the names as they came flying out of the Goblet of Fire.

"For Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacouer."

The prissiest French girl, the one Ron (and half of the other boys in school) had been drooling over, walked up between the tables, head high and never looking to the side. Like a goddess accepting her due without acknowledging her worshippers. Although Harry noticed that few of the girls in the Great Hall were applauding, and no other student from Beauxbatons. Sure, she was nice to look at, especially that trim behind which was nicely outlined by her blue uniform (much more flattering than the shapeless, black sacks Hogwarts inflicted on their students) but there had to be something wrong with her if she didn't have any friends to applaud her selection. And that was besides the compulsion charm she always had on her. It felt a little like the allure from the veela at the world cup, but the veela were ugly once you broke through the allure. Whatever her problems might be, this girl was not ugly.

"Harry!" Hermione elbowed him hard. "That's rude! How would you like it if people stared at you? If they undressed you with their eyes as you walked by?"

"Ah, Hermione? Boy Who Lived here. Fan-girls in every year, in case you haven't noticed."

"Hmmph. It's different for girls. It would serve you right to have to be a girl for a day."

Soon enough all three champions had been selected. The judges headed after the champions as Dumbledore turned to the students to dismiss them.

But with a final burst of flames, one more piece of paper came flying out of the cup.

"Harri Jane Potter? No, it must be Harry James Potter. Harry Potter, please come up here."

"What? I can't be a champion. I never put my name in the cup."

"Nevertheless, your name has come out. Please join the other champions."

"I will not. I refuse to participate in yet another thing that will kill me at Hogwarts."

The flames coming out of the Goblet of Fire rose higher. A magical pull from the Goblet to Harry strengthened until he couldn't ignore it. It was like Moody's Imperius, telling him to do something. Harry held his wand high. "I, Harry James Potter, will never participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

The cup's pull relaxed, and so did Harry. Then, with a burst of flame that almost reached the enchanted ceiling, the Goblet of Fire sent Harry tumbling with an overwhelming magical wave.

Being somewhat familiar with magical attacks, Harry got up and began checking for effects. Head, arms, hands, legs all in place. No fur or fangs. No tail. Balance was off a bit. Harry felt his chest, then pulled out the front of his pants in front of everyone. "Aaaagh!"

Dumbledore looked at the paper fluttering in his hand and read the words outlined in fire. "Harri Jane Potter, the Goblet has spoken. Please accompany me to meet with the judges and other champions."

Not giving Harry – Harri – time to get over the shock or even to adjust to his – her – new body, Dumbledore floated her behind him.

...oooOOOooo...

Harri stomped out of the side room in a high dudgeon. For what seemed like hours she'd been interrogated about her name being in the cup. Morons. Harry's name had never been in the cup, and if he'd wanted to cheat his way into the tournament, he wouldn't have done it in a way that got him turned into a girl.

And if he had wanted to be a girl, it would be a more obviously girly girl. That was the other half of Harri's current bad temper. That prissy princess Fleur was bad enough but then cow-woman Maxime had hooked a finger into the top of Harri's shirt to take a look. "Are you quite sure your champion was changed into a girl, Dumblydoor? He still looks like a boy to me."

Harri's punch to the large woman's crotch didn't do anything except hurt her hand. "Ho ho ho. He's aggressive. Per'aps he will survive the tournament. But you will find I am too much woman for you, leetle boy."

Coming back into the Great Hall, Harri saw that the briefing, er, interrogation, er, confrontation could not have taken long at all. All of the students were still at their tables eating what must be a second course of sweets.

Harri stopped short when the mob of students noticed her. The hostile looks were rather familiar from past years, but totally undeserved tonight. Not that Harri expected much better from these brainless sheep.

But Miss Prissy Princess was too busy taking in the adulation of her throngs of worshippers or basking in her own glory or whatever was going through her bird brain to notice that Harri had stopped. The larger girl plowed into the smaller, sending the smaller flying into a dish of chocolate custard.

Harri stood up and turned to face Fleur slowly, gloppy brown smeared across her face.

The French girl gave a delicate, supercilious, and oh-so-upper crust laugh at Harri's appearance. "Get used to the mud, leetle boy. That is where you will be when the real champions are done with you."

Harri growled, murder as well as chocolate in her eye.

"Oh ho, be careful, leetle boy. You don't want to hurt your other hand."

That was the final straw. With a roar of fury, Harri leaped at the blonde French girl. They went down in a tangle, arms flailing, wands forgotten. They were rolling around too fast for any spells from the few competent adults to tag them and put them to sleep. Not too fast for the audience to enjoy the show, however.

Fleur was bigger than Harri, but she had a bird-boned structure which didn't allow for much strength. Harri, while small, was wiry and tough. And Harry had grown up with Dudley's friends beating on him. Fleur didn't stand a chance.

Dishes went flying as the two flailed around, spreading deserts over everything. Chocolate had apparently been the evenings feature, and featured prominently in the smears on hands and clothes.

And breasts. Fleur's top came open with a blizzard of snowy white flesh which didn't stay white for very long.

It didn't all go Harri's way, though. Fleur got in a solid kick. Harri couldn't help it. She'd eaten a large dinner. She puked the whole thing up. Right into Fleur's face.

Enraged even more than before, Fleur grabbed Harri with renewed energy. Harri's robe came down and then her shirt ripped, spilling her not-so-bountiful new assets out for everyone to see.

"So… ah… is Harry a boy or what?" "Uh, a girl?" "Maybe a he-she?"

The comments from the peanut gallery did nothing but enrage Harri further.

A cup had landed on the floor near Harri's butt. A fudge brownie had fallen into the pumpkin juice. Perfect. Harri scooped out a handful of the loose brown solid mass and smeared it across Fleur's perfect, perfect face. A large clump went into her mouth.

But before Fleur could use her rage to shred this puny, English pretender, a pair of stunners caught the two and ended the fight. But not the free show, as the two half-dressed, filthy girls were left lying on the floor of the Great Hall as the students were shepherded out.

...oooOOOooo...

Harri waited her turn in the tent. It shouldn't be much longer, judging by the crowd noises. She already had her plan and a backup plan, so she had nothing left to do but fume over the past month and the past hour.

The most recent annoyance was Bagman. Harri didn't know if he'd have made the offer of extra assistance if she'd still been a boy. She didn't know which answer would be more disturbing, either: Bagman offering special help to Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived, or Bagman offering special help to Harri, the Girl-Who-Had-the-Figure-of-a-Twelve-Year-Old.

The last month and a half had been very trying. Like Halloween, but more spread out. It started with where Harri was going to sleep. The girls didn't want him in the girls' dorms, even though Harri was now able to go up the stairs without setting off the alarm. Her roommates for the past three years were perfectly happy to have her continue sleeping where she had been. Some more perfectly happy than others. Seamus's face was openly lecherous when he suggested they all get undressed and ready for bed, while Dean tried to chat her up. Ron was torn between angry that Harry had cheated his way into the tournament, halfheartedly supportive of his friend, and perfectly happy to go along with Seamus's "ready for bed" suggestion. Even Neville didn't offer any support beyond blushing bashfully.

Classes, at least, weren't much different than before. The classwork was the same for boys and girls, after all. Even Snape couldn't honestly be said to be much worse than before Halloween, but that was only because he had been an utter dick from day one.

It was really the time outside of class that had been the problem. Stares in the hallways, whispers as she went past, and awkward conversations. The occasional taunts from Prissy Princess just to make the day complete. Those ended once Harri made arrangements with the kitchen elves to supply her with mushy chocolate brownies and she started flinging them as soon as Fleur opened her mouth. At least the other Beauxbatons students were leaving Harri alone. It still seemed they did not much care for their own champion.

Even Hagrid was treating Harry differently. A week ago he had started to invite her to meet him outside the school late at night, "Fer sumthin yeh'll love ta see. It'll help ya in yer task, too." But then he seemed to have second thoughts and he canceled the invitation saying it wasn't proper for him to meet a young lady late at night all alone. Probably Hagrid had planned to show Harri the dragons. That didn't matter. She had found them for herself one afternoon while flying around to get away from eyes and whispers.

Finally it was Harri's turn. She came out of the tent at Bagman's announcement and strode confidently to the judges' stand. The Goblet was there at Harri's insistence. Against expectation, it was still burning. She claimed it was to keep alive the tendril of magic which kept Harri in the contest against her will and kept her a girl, also against her will. Harri had demanded that the Goblet be brought out so she and Dumbledore and everyone else could see if the contract was deemed fulfilled.

At the whistle, Harri walked up to shouting distance of the dragon and asked in parseltongue, "Greetings, mother. Have you been kidnapped for these fools' entertainment just as I have?"

The dragon roared. To everyone else it sounded ferocious and threatening. To Harri it was the beginning of a productive conversation.

Harri carefully walked toward the head of the dragon, wand held down. Suicidal, or so the yells and cheers of the audience indicated. The howls of anticipation turned to screams of horror when Harri broke open the magical collar holding the dragon safely in place.

With a whoosh the dragon was in the air, buzzing the audience in the stands for the sole purpose of scaring the shit out of them. Of course, the adults in the judges' stand would be made of sterner stuff than the children in the crowd and so there was a second part to the plan.

With one last whoosh the dragon headed straight for the judges' stand, pulling straight up at the last moment. This impossible feat of aerobatics was made possible by the dragon lightening its load by hundreds of pounds. Hundreds of pounds of dragon shit. Most of it went on the judges, as intended, but a goodly amount splattered all over the Goblet of Fire.

Some even hit Moody in the face just as he was taking a sip from his ever present flask. Dragon shit and whatever he was drinking didn't mix and within moments he was on the ground screaming as his features shifted to a younger face. His eye popped out. Not that anyone was paying attention to a man on the ground just at the moment.

Harri ran up with the golden egg as the judges moaned and cursed and stood up and wiped their faces. She was just in time to see the last flicker of fire go out. Hoping against hope, she felt around her magic… and found that the tendril tying her to the cup and to the tournament had disappeared.

Now there was just one last thing. Not worrying about the hundreds of people around her, Harri stuck her hand in her pants.

And found she was still a she.

Enraged, Harri screamed and then kicked the cup formerly known as the Goblet of Fire. But it was still full of smoldering dragon shit and it was still sitting in a pile of dragon shit. Runny dragon shit. Harri lost her footing and landed with a splat, getting shit all over her. Perfect.

...oooOOOooo...

Author's Note: I make no excuses.