Harry Hunting

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: What!! I don’t own Harry Potter? Then I was deluding myself all
these years. I knew the pink elephant was lying.

“I’m not tense just terribly, terribly, terribly alert.”


It was night at the beginning of another term at Hogwarts for
Harry Potter. The introductory feast had passed without incident and people that
had placed bets on Harry creating a scene, had lost money, making the Ravenclaw
betting ring very happy. Harry was helping some of the kids who had lost money
pay their way through school because of it.

This year, the rooms were split into doubles with only two people sharing a
room. Harry and Ron had settled their stuff in quickly and had spent the rest of
the night sharing well worn copies of porno magazines, obviously for the
articles. Those jokes are really funny.

After Ron had finally fallen asleep, with his curtains firmly closed
and his favorite magazine in his left hand, Harry was
left sitting in the seat under the window staring down at the long grass leading
down to the lake. If Ron doesn‘t slow down on the wanking, the guy is going to
have arthritis in his wrist before he was twenty.

In a room not that far away from Harry, a group of people sat around a table
plotting to take over the world. Woops! Wrong room! We want the one next to it.
In a room slightly further away from Harry, who was doing the depressed brooding
hero thing, a group of Harry Potter’s fans sat around a table plotting the hunt
(and eventual capture) of the sex god Harry Potter. “So, did you see him
tonight? He looked so yummy.”

“Yeah, he has the whole sickly Victorian poet look going for him.”

“Couldn’t you just picture him in one of those big white shirts with the puffy
sleeves?” The room is quiet for a moment as everyone pictures Harry in a puffy
shirt.

“Okay, so, we’re agreed. This year we aren’t going to look from afar. We are
going to catch Harry no matter what.”

“Yeah. Who knows? He might be killed before the end of term.”

“No way, he kicks Voldemort’s butt all the time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know, in the big fight something could go wrong.
We gotta be careful of our Harry.”

“So we‘re agreed. We’re going to do whatever it takes to get Harry into bed and
fuck him ten ways to Sunday.”

“No, not like that! We are going to make love to Harry.”

“And. . .”

“Okay, and fuck him ten ways to Sunday.” Someone pulled an item out of a bag
lying on a chair next to them.

“Is that...a sex toy?”

“Oh sure, I’ve been collecting this stuff since second year, like there was this
really cute spiked collar and chain with emerald green inlay that I just had to
buy.”

“That is going to look so awesome on him.”

“I saw this adorable little miniature whip. It’s so handy. It fits in your
pocket and you can have your name inlaid in gold or silver.”

“Do you still have the catalogue? I would so love one.”

“Sure, I was going to send in a new order soon.”

“First thing, someone has to get his class timetable, and his room position.”

“You’re in Gryffindor, so you do it.”

“Okay and I think I can get a hold of some of his underwear like I did last
year.”

“Do you still have that book on voodoo love potions?”

“I did have it, but I think I lent it to a friend.”

“Do we get to synchronize our watches?”

“What?”

“It’s a muggle thing.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“So has anyone seen the latest Harry Potter fan club news letter?”

“Not yet. What\'s in it?”

“Oh there’s this really cool article about the preferred sexual positions of
Gryffindors, with an in-depth investigation by A. Lady.”

Let us leave this room before the occupants start talking about topics that no
one dares contemplate.

The next day, Harry crept into the shared male bathrooms. Picking up his washing
gear, the glass bottle of shampoo that he had been holding slipped out of his
hands.

“Fuck it.” Harry grumbled to himself. He cast a quick cleaning spell.
A voice spoke from behind him.

“You never have been a morning person, have you?” Seamus was walking into the
bathroom to have a shower.

“No, I’m not. The day hasn’t really started for me until I’ve had a shower.
Everything before that is a strange blur with annoying moving bits.”

Harry walked into one of the stalls and started up the shower. Slipping on a
piece of glass and fluid he had missed with the cleaning spell, he slipped and
fell.
Fate laughed

“Hey, Harry, are you alright? You haven’t drowned in there?” Seamus shouted over
the sound of their showers as he heard a thick thudding noise from Harry’s
shower booth. Harry stopped banging his head against the wall.

“No, everything’s fucking lovely.”

It was the first class of the new term and Harry was slinking into his Advanced
Potions class, carefully trying to keep his head down and not be noticed by
Snape. Fate heard and, as nothing interesting was going on in the rest of the
world, decided to stick her foot in.

Harry who had been carefully easing himself into his customary seat tripped and
sent his potions equipment flying in twelve directions.
Snape, who had been at the front of the room preparing the paperwork for the
class, turned around sharply and spotted a flustered Harry trying to pick up his
scattered books and tools. A notebook had slid under a desk and he dove down to
get it. “Potter, I can see that you have graced us with your glorified presence
for another year.” Harry grabbed the notepad.

“Yes sir, I was just being my clumsy self.” Snape scowled

“If this is heralding the rest of the year, I don’t know if we’ll all survive.”
Harry just grinned and picked the rest of his stuff. You slimly little git! Why
don’t you get over yourself? Most people manage to realize that high school is
not the end all and be all of life. Everything you do in life does not center
off what happened in high school. Just get a life.

Sitting down at his table, Snape picked up a sheet of parchment from his desk.
“I have picked your lab partners personally to better help you comprehend the
complexities of potion brewing and enhance your dexterity with ingredient
management, to ensure your preparedness for your exams this year.”

FLASHBACK
Snape, very drunk, was dressed in a red and black smoking-jacket-style dressing
gown, singing to himself, “. . . . and most of all it’s true, I did it mmmyyyyyy
wayyyy.” In one of his hands is a dart; in the other is a tall Bloody Mary.
Before him, stuck on the wall of his office, are two lists of the Slytherin and
Gryffindor pupils for his potions class.
END FLASHBACK

“The pairings for class assignments are: Zambini with Weasley,” Harry held his
breath. Maybe there would be an odd one out and he could work by himself. ”Goyle
with Finnigan, Malfoy with Granger, Potter with Parkinson,” Harry slumped down
in his chair. Well at least it’s not Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle, “and Crabbe with
Longbottom. I hope with these partners you will learn together and thus increase
your marks. But I truly doubt that this will occur.”

The class shuffled over into the new pairings; some arguments arose over who was
shifting over with whom. Harry walked over to Parkinson’s table as she had not
been sitting with anyone. “So, read any good books lately?” Pansy sneered. I
swear the Slytherins must be given a pamphlet on ways to be condescending and
just general pains in the arse to others when they join up.

“Potter, I’m going to be blunt from the beginning. Snape hates your guts. Being
your partner places me in the line of fire. If you fell off a cliff right now I
couldn’t be happier. So please don’t do anything while I’m with you to catch his
attention.” A sudden urge comes over Harry to get up on the desk and start
singing show tunes at the top of his voice. Under his breath Harry starts to hum
as he sets up his equipment, “Start spreading the news, I’m leaving today. I
going to be a part of it New York, New York,” and is ignored by Pansy.

From the front of the class while the student body is busy annoying the hell out
of each other, Snape reaches into a small drawer and slyly pulls out a small
silver hip flask and takes a quick nip.


A/N Who cant see Snape as an under the desk drinker. I would if I had to teach at Hogwarts.
Thanks to Beta RandH4ever