Now that's what I call Davy, Vol 2.

As we all know, the internet appears to be crammed to the gills with Harry Potter slash fiction; that is, JK Rowling's fictional characters written into scenes in which they hop into bed with one another at the slightest provocation. The popularity of this activity cannot be denied, although I must confess that I cannot see the attraction of taking a bunch of imaginary 12-year-olds and pretending they’re 17 so as they can shag each other. After all, if you did that with a real 12 year old there’s a fair chance you’d be locked up for it, so there’s always something about the whole affair that leaves me feeling a bit…wrong.
However, that’s all by the by as I discove that attandance at Nimbus 2005 – the Harry Potter fan convention help in Salem, Mass. – was more than 70% female. Suddenly, previously undreamed of potential benefits of getting into the this whole Harry Potter malarkey become plain, and I reckon if I make my name as a slash writer now, it may be worth my while starting to save for a plane ticket for next year.

Rather than write an entire story, I thought I’d just give edited highlights of a few days in he average life of a Hogwarts student, set just post the events of “Order of the Phoenix”…

As Ron shifted miserably in the plumpest chair that the Griffindor common room contained, Harry looked up from the chessboard he was studying and frowned.
“I say, Ron, I wish you’d keep a bit quieter. I know extra lessons with Snape aren’t the best thing in the world, but there’s no reason to keep fidgeting. He only kept you for an extra half an hour”
Ron nodded miserably.
“I suppose it was intended for you own good. After all, Professor Snape did say he wanted you to stay back because you’ve got a little behind.”
At that moment the door burst open and Hermione tottered in wearing a dreamy expression and weaving somewhat uncertainly. Ron seized on the opportunity to change the subject.
“Hermione! Where have you been?”
Hermione snapped out of her reverie. “Oh, I’ve been in the forbidden forest. Firenze the Centaur asked me to…rub him down. I’ve been there all afternoon. He must have galloped me about for over an hour.”
Harry nodded. “They say it’s a great honour to be allowed to ride a Centaur” he said.
“It was” breathed Hermione, elbowing Ron off the comfy chair.
“Anyway,” said Harry. “I’m still sweaty from my Quidditch earlier. I’m off for a shower.” Standing, he left the common room, failing to notice the dark figure that slipped from the shadows by the fat lady and followed him…

****

Draco recoiled in disgust and fury.
“What do you mean you enjoyed it, Potter? My father used the Imperius curse on me so I’d do that to pay you back for what happened to him in the shower block at Azkaban!”
Harry leaned back against the taps. “Haven’t you heard, Malfoy? Your father’s sentence has been increased to life, and he’s sharing his cell with a half-giant called Bubba. I think we’ll be having a few more of these little meetings before you’re done. Now drink that engorgement potion and get going.”
With jerky steps, Draco approached Harry again, aghast at the horror of what he was doing…

****

In the shadows of a cell beneath Azkaban prison, a half-giant pointed a fat finger at the quivering figure on the bench. “You’re my puppy now!” It boomed…

****

The next day was bright and sunny as the class made their way down to the lake for their care of magical creatures lesson. Hagrid, all smiles as usual, greeted them with his usual cheer. “Today, class, we’re going to be studyin’ the giant squid. I calls him Mr. Tickle. Raised ‘im from a little squidling meself, I did. So come on, move forward! He’s perfectly safe! Nothing to be concerned about!”
Neville Longbottom stiffened as a tentacle shot out of the lake and up one trouser leg. Hagrid beamed again. “Taught ‘im to do that meself” he smiled. “Passed many a long winter evening with ‘im, in that way.”
Another tentacle shot out of the water and up Neville’s other leg and he was slowly lifted off the ground.
“Now then,” said Hagrid. “He’s got six more tentacles, so I need three more volunteers!”
As one the class edged backwards, except for Cho Chang who elbowed her way forward eagerly.
“I always said she was wrong for you,” hissed Hermione in Harry’s ear as Cho whipped off her skirt. Above them, Neville’s cries abruptly changed in pitch as a questing pseudopod found its goal.

****

The sun was shining many miles away over Privet Drive, and a tall thin figure all in black stormed up the driveway of Number 4 and rapped on the door. It was opened by Vernon Dursley who looked with undisguised surprise at the man in front of him.
“I’ll come straight to the point” snapped Professor Snape. That boy. Potter. He’s you’re responsibility and he’s….” Snape paused and looked at the man in front of him. “Vernon? Vernon Dursley?
“Snape!?”
“I haven’t seen you since that time in Ibiza in 1988!” Snape gasped and then paused. “You’ve grown a moustache, I see.”
Vernon Dursley nodded.
“So…” said Snape. “What are you doing with yourself?”
“I make power tools” said Vernon, meaningfully.
“Really? I’m in...stimulants” said Snape.
Vernon looked about quickly. “Petunia is out with Dudley” he said. “Perhaps you’d better come in.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve got a hammer I could show you?”
“Ballpeen?”
“If you like.”
The door closed behind them with a quiet click.