Disclaimer: Since we're going to be going to a ball game, I thought you might tell me the names of some of the players.

Who's a Hero?

Harry Potter was feeling down. It had been some weeks since he'd gotten back to the Dursley House and he was feeling down. His godfather was dead, Voldemort was back, and his love life was non existent.

"If only there was someone that could fight the Death Eaters," Harry mused to himself, "someone who could beat them at their own game. Someone who could bring hope back to the magical people of the United Kingdom. Someone who could investigate those strange screams coming from the guest room." Harry sighed, there was no one like that in . . . wait, strange screams coming from the guest room?

With the stealth of a stealthy cat, Harry crept down the hall towards the source of the source of the strange sounds. Pausing before the door, he took a deep breath and . . .


"I don't know twin of mine," George said, "what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that we kidnap a Malfoy or two, butcher them, and sell them to the Hogwarts elves as mystery meat."

"Then we can sell the story to the Daily Prophet."

"It'll be our greatest prank ever," Fred agreed, "it's brilliant."

"And profitable."

"I . . ." He cut off when they heard a knock on the door. "Who's that knocking at the door?" George asked.

"Somebody's ringing a bell." Fred noticed, "Do me a favor. Open the door, and let 'em in…"

The two twins stalked towards the door and flung it open. "Harry."

"My man."



"What can we do for you?"

"You wouldn't be interested in helping us pull off our greatest prank ever would you?"

"Maybe later," Harry demurred. He regarded them with flat dead eyes, eyes that had seen sights that no man should see. "For now . . . we've got bigger fish to fry." Harry pulled out a mammoth cod. "Like this one."

"Is that a cod or a fluke?"

"Believe me, that's no fluke." Harry added, "I found it after leaving home, when I visited my happy place."

"We'll get the grill ready," George offered.

"Was there another reason for your visit?" Fred asked. "Not that we're big on following the rules but . . ."

"Didn't Dumbledore lock you in with jackals during the summer months, you know the only home you've ever know that is less friendly then a dementor spawning bed?"

"I don't have a home anymore," Harry said firmly, "not after . . ." His lower lip quivered.

"Was it Death Eaters?"


"The french?"

"French mimes?"


"Traveling salesmen?"

"No," Harry said, "worse . . . so much worse. I . . . I don't want to talk about it."

"Worse then Death Eaters?"

"That's not important," Harry said quickly, "I came here for your help."

"Our help?"

"I'm gonna take the fight to Voldemort," Harry explained, "Death Eaters are a superstitious and cowardly lot, but I'll need a disguise and a bunch of cool gadgets. I figured that two pranksters like yourselves could help with that."

"Harry," Fred began.

"We're in," George said for both of them.

The twins wen t all out outfitting Harry. They gave him a poorly constructed costume that they made themselves, they were pranksters not tailors. A silk domino mask with matching cape that they bought from a store that sold personal items such as 'back massagers.' And they gave him an enchanted rapier that they purchased from a 'reputable businessman.'

"Wow," Harry said as he admired the fine toledo steel blade, "how did you guys afford this?"

"Well," George said, "you did give us all those Galleons."

"And we got the 'fell off the truck' discount on it too," Fred added.

"What are the enchantments on it?" Harry asked.

"It makes you the greatest swordsman in the United Kingdom," George replied, "able to do flips and jumps and whatnot . . . oh and it also lets you carve question marks in things."

"Along with the whole unbreakable and eversharp jazz that always gets put on a magical sword."

"Excellent," Harry said in a low gravely 'dark hero' voice, "there's only one thing I need now."

"What's that?"

"A name," Harry replied.


"Did you have one in mind?"

"I was thinking of calling myself . . ."


Meanwhile, an indeterminate amount of time later. A number of Death Eaters approached Diagon Alley with murder and mayhem on their minds. Without speaking a word, they broke up into small groups to block the exits . . . by the time the sheep noticed that they were being corralled, it was already too late.

"Leave one in ten alive," Snape ordered, "but take their eyes and ears . . . leave their tongues so that they can carry word of what they saw."

"Then should we cut out their eyes?" One of the younger Death Eaters asked. "Cause then they wouldn't see us torture their loved ones to death . . . come to think of it, if we destroyed their ears then they wouldn't hear it either."

"Ok," Snape sighed, "torture them and their families but don't blind and deafen them until after you've killed their families."

"Right . . . only."

"Only what?" Snape demanded.

"Should we cut off their noses and cripple them too?"

"I'd assumed that the tortures that you were going to force them to undergo would leave them noseless and crippled," Snape said arrogantly.

"Right, just making sure."

"So should we avoid tortures that would blind and or deafen them?" One of the other Death Eaters asked.

"Yes," the first Death Eater agreed.

"No," Snape disagreed, "just save that till the end . . . does anyone else have any questions? Ok then, let's get this thing . . ."

"I have a question."

"For gods sakes what?" Snape screamed.

"That last group," he began, "if we blind them then they won't see the other survivors get blinded and if we deafen them then they won't hear the deafenings."

"Do it one at a time so that the last survivor sees all the rest get blinded and deafened," Snape sighed, "anything else?"

"That was my only question."

"Is everyone else sure that they don't have any questions?" Snape said in a tired voice. "Not even one . . . good then lets . . ."

"Halt evil doer."

"God damn it what now?" Snape was ready to cry. "And why couldn't you all have asked these questions before we left?"

"I'm not here to ask questions," a mysterious figure replied from the top of one of the buildings, "I'm here to halt your evil deeds."

"Kill him," Snape said calmly, "And no questions this time," he added quickly as several Death Eaters had raised their hands and opened their mouths. With a shrug they raised their wands and unleashed a flurry of spells at their newly revealed foe.

"Ha ha," the figure laughed. He made an incredible back flip off the roof and landed in a midst of his foes. "Prepare to taste my blade," he said gamely as he whipped out his blade and began stabbing and slashing.

"Arg," Snape screamed, "my ass . . . you just stabbed me in the ass."

"Ha ha," the masked man laughed, "that's not all I'm gonna do." The blade flashed and Snape was the not so proud recipient of a new question mark shaped gash on his chest.

"Retreat," Snape screamed. In a flash, every Death Eater disappeared with a pop.

"Wait," one of the former hostages whispered to another, "why didn't we do that?"

"Shhh," their friend whispered back, "do you want to make us look stupid?"


"No need to thank me good citizens," the masked hero replied. His blade flashed as it carved question marks into everything within arms reach. "Ho ho ho and away I go." The hero made an incredible leap onto the roof of one of the nearby buildings.

"Wait," one of the former hostages screamed, "who are you?"

"Me?" Harry asked. "I am the terror that stalks the night, I am the untied shoe that trips up evil, I am . . . the Purple Gash." With that, the magical world's newest hero disappeared.

"What'd he say?" The hostage asked.

"Eh?" The senile woman to his side asked. "Who?"

"His name is the 'Who' everybody," the hostage called out.

"Stupid name."

"Yes but it explains all the question marks he left behind doesn't it?"

"True . . . but it's still a stupid name."


Harry watched from afar as his people celebrated their rescue thinking that perhaps hope again walked the world in the form of young boy in a stupid costume.


The Death Eaters were not happy about being defeated by a mentally disturbed man in a funny looking costume . . . though to be fair, they were all mentally disturbed men in funny looking costumes so their opinions didn't count.

"We can't let this insult stand," Lucius purred.

"My poor abused ass," Snape whined, "why did he have to stab me there."

"We must strike back," Lucius continued, "must crush the seed of hope that the hero has planted."

"Excuse me." One of the other death eaters held up his hand. "But I've got a question."

"Yes what is it?" Lucius demanded. "And be quick about it."

"Wouldn't it be unplant?" He asked. "Or dig up maybe?"

"Wouldn't what be?"

"Well . . . you said crush the seed," the Death Eater said reasonably, "but shouldn't it be unplant or dig up? Or if it has to be crushed then shouldn't we dig it up first and then crush it?"

"Or unplant," another Death Eater added helpfully.

"Yes, or unplant."

"Fine," Lucius agreed, "unplant or dig up and then crush the seed of hope . . . everyone happy now?" He looked around. "Good, now let's be off."

"Off to where?"

"Why, our attack of course."

"Yes I understand that. What I don't understand is where our attack shall be."

"Why, the same place we always attack."



"That creepy grave yard then?"

"Not there either."

"D . . ."



"No you idiot," Lucius screamed, "Diagon Alley."


"Happy now?" Lucius growled.


"Then let us be off to attack Diagon Alley where we shall dig up or unplant the seed of hope and then crush it."

"Yay," the Death Eaters cheered.


Amelia Bones was enjoying a pleasant day out with her niece. The sun was shining, the air was sweet, and there were several sales on monocles and other assorted items that were vital to the smooth operation of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Bwahaha." And with one little laugh, everything started to go wrong.

"Get behind me Susan," Amelia hissed.

"Death Eaters?" Susan said fearfully. "Oh no."

"Oh yes," Lucius Malfoy replied, "my master will reward us greatly for your deaths."

"You'll hurt her over my dead body," Amelia replied grimly.

"I was actually planning to do it beside your dead body," Lucius mused, "but over sounds good too . . . good thinking, it'll be much more comfortable than on the cold hard ground"

"That's not what I . . ."

"Ha ha!"

"Look, there on the roof top!" said random Death Eater #4

"It's a bird!" Observed random Death Eater #71

"It's an owl!" random Death Eater #17 (real name Randal the particularly inbred)

"Owls are bird you idiot!" random Death Eater suggested helpfully "Besides, it's a frog!"

"'tis not bird nor owl, nor even frog," Harry announced, "It's little old me, the Purple Gash!"

"Who?" the assorted Death Eaters chorused.

"It's Who everyone, We're saved!

"Ha ha." Another little laugh restored hope as every eye turned to regard the figure standing on the roof of one of the shops . . . well, every eye except the ones belonging to Amelia Bones anyway.

"Reducto," she said with a benevolent smile. She sighed in contentment as Lucius's stomach burst open and his intestines began snaking out the gaping wound.

"Halt evil doers," Harry shouted as he made yet another incredible back flip off the roof of the building and into the midst of the afore mentioned evil doers.

"Reducto," Amelia said. Her smile grew as another Death Eater fell to the ground and attempted to stuff his assorted organs back through the gaping hole in his abdomen. Thank the lord for incompetent foes.

"Taste my steel you bastards," Harry shouted as his blade pierced another Death Eater as he lunged.

"Distractions are nice too," Amelia amended her previous thought. "Reducto."

"Retreat," Lucius screamed. He activated his emergency Portkey and landed back at his spacious home, belatedly realizing that if he hadn't ordered a retreat then several idiots may well have stayed behind to provide a distraction. On the other hand, the activation of so many Portkeys would be sure to cover up the traces of his making it impossible to track. "Damn I'm good," he said smugly. Deliberately ignoring the fact that the Ministry had no way of tracking Portkeys to sooth his battered ego.


Amelia watched with a smile as several members of the Department of Magical Street Cleaning removed all traces of the battle. Traces such as six feet of intestine that Lucius had left behind in his hasty flight.

"I love the smell of burning flesh and ruptured bowels in the morning," Amelia said to herself, "it smells like . . . victory."

"That's disgusting Aunty Amelia," Susan said with a scrunched up nose.

"Who was that masked man?" One of the 'sheep' asked.

"I think he called himself . . . the Backdoor Intruder?"

"No that's not right," another said quickly, "it's Who."



"No, who?"

"No what?"


"No he was here."

"He who?"


Sensing that the conversation would not become more intelligent in the near or even the far future, Amelia took her nice by the hand and led her to the nearest shop serving intoxicating beverages.

"Two shots," Amelia ordered as the walked through the door.

"You gonna be at your usual table?" The bartender asked.

"Yep," Amelia agreed as she led her niece to a corner booth.

"Two Aunty?" Susan asked with wide eyes.

"One for me and one for you," Amelia replied.

"But . . . I'm not old enough to drink."

"Old enough to cast a head exploding hex, old enough to drink." Amelia said philosophically. "Who's gonna bust the Director's niece with the Director there?"

"Ok Aunty," Susan agreed, "I didn't think you noticed."

"I'm probably the only one that did," Amelia replied."Where'd you learn that anyway?"

"Harry Potter taught it to me," Susan explained, "along with a whole bunch of other things."

"Other things?"

"Not that," Susan said quickly. "Not that I haven't made a pass at him. . . along with every other girl at Hogwarts and some of the boys," she muttered with a frown, "all went over his head . . . I don't even think he realized what I was suggesting. I'd almost swear Luna was right about needing a special way to approach him, but I'm not sure where we can find lederhosen and a tub of pudding during the normal school year. Maybe, I can pack some in advance..."

"Yes well," Amelia said with a cough. Hoping to steer this conversation away from her niece's sex life. "Speaking of Harry Potter . . ."


Harry watched over his people in the classic hero standing on a tall thing looking over people pose. They were his sheep and he was their shepherd and he briefly wondered if that meant he was supposed to have relations with some of the ewes. That thought brought to mind the horrible things he'd seen at the horrible place involving the horrible people so he did what any reasonable person would have done under similar circumstances, he curled up into a ball and wept for several hours. Besides, he wasn't a New Zealander, an Australian, Aberdonian, or Welsh . . . wait maybe he was Welsh. Harry scratched his chin, wondering just where the hell his parents came from anyway.


Susan looked at her aunt with wide pleading eyes, begging the older woman to agree to her request.

"Please Aunty Amelia," Susan begged, "please."

"Well . . . I suppose," Amelia agreed, "but only if you're careful."

"I promise," Susan agreed happily, "now all I need is a good name."



"I said what."


"And what?"




Harry made his triumphant return to the Twin's office space later that night after he'd finished sitting on a ledge staring at people. It was actually quite boring, he really didn't see why the other heros liked to do that.

"Harry," George greeted him at the door.




"How are you doing?"

"Confused," Harry admitted.



"Does being a hero mean that I have to shag sheep?" Harry asked. "Because I'm not sure I wanna be a hero if it does."

"Uh . . . no Harry."

"Where'd you get that idea?"

"Nowhere," Harry said quickly, "I'm just glad I have someone as stable as you guys here to help me."

"Sure Harry . . ."

". . . no problem."


Susan had gotten her costume together in record time. Her pants and tunic had come from an old costume her mother used to like wearing for 'personal time' as her aunt had explained it. Her mask was easily fashioned from a porcelain plate with a bit of charm work and covered half her face like something from the phantom of the opera. Her cape had come from an old set of crimson silk sheets, better to get blood stains on something that won't show them her aunt had advised. And her sword had come from the kitchen junk bin, like Harry's it was charmed to give her the abilities of a superb swordsman and gymnast . . . not to mention the fact that it could carve a question mark into just about anything.

"Ta da," Susan announced as she jumped out from behind a privacy screen, "how do I look?"

"You look stupid," Amelia said honestly.

"That's the whole Point Aunty," Susan replied primly.

"Oh . . . good job then."

"Thank you Aunt Amelia," Susan said with a pleased blush, "where'd you get this sword?"

"Busted a guy trying to sell them for two galleons a piece," Amelia replied, "he'd stolen them from a company in Toledo Spain. The company didn't want them back since they were part of an off batch, accidently enchanted to carve question marks into things."

"Do you have more of them?" Susan asked hopefully.

"I grabbed all of them," Amelia agreed, "thought we could hang them up around the house or something."

"Thank you Aunty," Susan said. She hugged the woman. "You're the greatest."

"Glad you think so," Amelia said with a grin, "so what are you going to call yourself?"

"That's right," Susan agreed.

"What's right?"

"Uh huh."

"What are you talking about?"

"What is what we are talking about," Susan confirmed.

"Did you chose a name for yourself?" Amelia demanded.

"What," Susan replied.

"Why don't you just write it down on this paper," Amelia said with a tired sigh.

"Write What?"

"Your hero name."

"Ok Aunty," Susan said. She wrote it down and handed the paper to her aunt.

"What?" Amelia read in shock.

"That's right."

"Why did you chose that name?"

"Because Ha . . . the other hero is Who."

"And you're what?"


"Now all you need to find is where, when, how, and I don't know."


"That one too," Amelia said with a nod, "forgot about that one."

"Could you explain that?"

"I suppose I could," Amelia mused.

"Please do."

"Ever heard of Abbott and Costello?" Amelia asked with a grin.


It was a very dispirited group of Death Eaters that met the Dark Lord that night. None of them wanted to tell their master about their failure, but they all knew the penalty for withholding information.

"Who beat two squads of your minions master," Lucius said quickly, "but with your permission we'd like to send two at once rather then one at a time to kill him."

"Kill who?"

"Yes master."

"Who beat you?"

"I regret that master," Lucius simpered, "but I think we can kill him."

"Kill who?"

"That's right master," Lucius agreed.

"Who do you want to kill?"

"Who master," Lucius replied.

"CRUCIO," Voldemort incanted. "Now then, who do you want to kill."

"Who master."

"CRUCIO. Perhaps you'll answer me Severus," Voldemort purred, "who beat you?"

"I'm sorry master," Snape said as he kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe, "he won't beat us again."


"Yes master."

"CRUCIO." Voldemort took several deep calming breaths. "You will find this man that thwarted my plan and you will destroy him, take as many Death Eaters as the job needs but bring me his head."

"Thy will be done my Lord."

The Death Eaters gathered together to prepare their assault on Diagon Alley. As they'd suspected, their master's rage at the defeat was swift and terrible. They would not fail again.

They appeared in a group in the middle of a busy crowd and drew their wands to bring carnage to the world.

"Halt evil doers," a high pitched voice ordered from one of the roof tops, "you shall not defeat me."

"Or me," another voice agreed from another part of the alley. The two super heros jumped off their buildings and began dealing death at the point of a sword.

"Hah," Susan laughed as she gelded Snape. "And Hah again," she said as the Lucius lost the ability to reproduce. Always use low blows, her aunt had advised, unless you feel like blinding them or something. Whatever you do, never fight fair . . . unless you're a sucker that want's to learn what it feels like to annoy me, in that case by all means.

"Silence fiend," Harry screamed at the tongueless Death Eater that foolishly tried to surrender.

"Retreat," Lucius screamed as he grasped his bleeding member. "I mean . . . Attack," he said belatedly remembering his prior conclusion on the nature of the value of a sound exit strategy. In seconds, the street was cleared of Death Eaters and the two heros realized it was time to make their escape.

"Fare thee well good citizens," Harry yelled as he made an incredible jump to the roof of the nearest building.

"Wait," One of the people screamed, "how can we ever repay you?"

"No thanks necessary," Harry said with a grin. "It is my duty. For I am . . . the Bearded Clam."

"And who are you?" One of the crowd asked Susan. They all turned to hear her reply.

"What," Susan corrected.

"What are you?" He said dumbly.

"What I am," Susan agreed, "hi ho away."


The Death Eaters all got some much needed medical attention then crawled into the throne room to tell their master the bad news.

"Who defeated you?" Voldemort demanded.

"He had a girl with him this time master," one of the Death Eaters simpered.

"Who is the girl?" Voldemort demanded.

"Who is the boy master," the minion corrected "we don't know the girl."



At that very moment, Dumbledore was sitting in his Office enjoying a hearty meal of curds and whey. When along came aside him, looking so grim, came the Deputy Headmistress with something to say.

"Yes Minerva?" Albus asked.

"Harry has disappeared," Minerva said with a frown, "and you don't plan to mount any kind of search?"

"Harry's old enough to make his own decisions," Dumbledore said as he plopped a particularly large piece of nose candy into his mouth, "it isn't my decision to interfere with his choices."

"Since when?" McGonagall challenged.

"Since my new crop finished drying," Dumbledore replied. He couldn't wait for the next batch of the special brownies to finish baking. "Besides, there's a new hero protecting our world so I think we can just sit back and let him deal with everyone."


Susan was coming down from the largest adrenalin high of her life as she stumbled back into her house.

"So how was it?" Amelia asked mildly.

"Funniest thing I've ever done," Susan replied with a grin, "I can't wait to do it again."

"So long as you're enjoying yourself," Amelia said with a shrug.

"Oh I am," Susan agreed quickly, "may I use the floo? I have a few calls I'd like to make."

"Have fun."

Susan wandered over to the floo and tossed in a large handful of powder.

"I'd like to make a conference call," she said clearly, "to the Abbot house, the Lovegood house, the . . ."


Narcissa returned home from her latest business affair to find her husband sobbing and clutching his best friend to his chest.

"I presume that there's some reason you have that thing out?" Narcissa asked with barely a raised eyebrow. "What happened to you?"

"I know," Lucius sobbed, "I need your help to put it back on."

"That wasn't are agreement," Narcissa said archly. "Our agreement was that I agree to marry you and in return I get a generous allowance and I never have to touch you. Besides, it's so small, it's not worth saving. Ta ta."

"At least call a healer," Lucius screamed, "Narcissa . . . Narcissa."


Susan stood in the middle of a large group of girls that had descended on Diagon Alley with no intention of buying new shoes.

"So what's this about?" Hermione demanded.

"So glad you could make it Hermione," Susan ignored the annoyed girl, "how have you been?"

"I've been fine," Hermione replied, "how'd you get my phone number anyway?"

"My Aunt is the head of the DMLE," Susan said with a shrug, "as for what this is about . . . just watch."

"Watch what?"

"Death Eaters are going to attack in a few minutes," Susan said with a glance at her watch.

"We have to do something," Hermione said franticly, "warn the people."

"Oh?" Hanna asked. "Why? It's not like it's an unusual occurrence, there have been seven Death Eater attacks today."

"Seven while we were here watching," Susan corrected.

"So then . . . huh?" Hermione's eyes crossed.

"Just watch," Luna advised.

As the other girls had predicted, in less then five minutes several pops announced the arrival of several nervous Death Eaters. Five of which immediately wet themselves and began glancing nervously at the rooftops.

"Ha ha." The laughter seemed to echo throughout the alley. "I am the terror that stalks through the night."

"It's him," one of the people cheered.

"Who?" Another asked.

"That's right."

"I am the old gum that sticks to your shoe." A figure seemed to rise from the shadows. "I am . . . the Crimson Tide." He leapt from the shadows and dispatched several Death Eaters with powerful blows. "Ha ha."

"Let's get the hell out of here," Death Eater #42 squealed. And with another series of pops, the Death Eaters fled the field of battle to the jeers and cheers of the waiting spectators.

"Fare thee well good citizens," Harry called to the crowd, "and no need to thank me for doing my duty. For I am . . . the One Eyed Snake." With that last message, he fled into that shadows.

"Who was that masked man?" One of the adoring people sighed.

"That's right," another said absently.

"Oh my god," Hermione said in shock, "that was Hamumph." Her eyes widened in outrage as Susan slapped a hand over Hermione's mouth.

"Shhh," Susan hissed into the other girl's ear. "This way." She led the group of girls into a convient isolated alley to continue the conversation.

"Why'd you slap your hand over my mouth Susan?" Hermione demanded.

"You were about to tell the world that the masked hero was really Harry Potter."

"You . . . you knew?" Hermione asked in shock.

"Everyone with more then two brain cells to rub together knows," Susan agreed. She cut off as a couple of other students walked by.

"No mate," Ron said to Dean, "I've got no idea who the Who really is . . . maybe it's Professor McGonagall."

"Wha?" Hermione stared in shock as the boys walked away.

"Like I was saying," Hanna said, "everyone that's not an idiot knows it's really Harry."

"We just figured the guy deserved a break after the last couple years," Susan picked it up, "so we pretend not to know it's really him."

"I'm still not sure it's Harry," Luna said firmly, "sure he looks like Harry. But I'd have to see them together to be sure that they're the same person."

"I . . . but . . . you . . ."

"Leaving that aside," Susan said firmly, "I've come to the conclusion that Harry can't be allowed to do this alone. That's why I've adopted the mantle of What, Who's loyal sidekick. Anyone care to join me in fighting the good fight?"

"I think I'll speak for the group when I say that we all agree," Hanna said with a grin, "right girls?"


"Then all we need to do now is pick our heroic identities," Luna said cheerfully, "I'll be naked girl. Harry's perky naked girlfriend . . . Hermione, you can be . . ."

"You can't be naked girl Luna," Hermione interupted.

"Why not?" Luna demanded. "It's my turn to be Harry's sidekick and everyone else got to pick their own heroic name."

"It's not your turn and . . . Susan," Hermione said, "help me out here."

"I don't think it's the name Hermione has a problem with Luna," Susan said, "it's the costume."

"What's wrong with it?" Luna asked in confusion.

"Everyone will know who you are if you don't wear anything Luna," Susan said slowly.

"But Luna Lovegood wears clothes," Luna explained, "naked girl doesn't so she can't be Luna Lovegood . . . she'd get cold."

"That won't work at all," Hermione said firmly.

"What if I changed my name to shirtless girl?" Luna asked.

"I think both could work," Hanna mused, "doubt anyone would look at her face."

"So it's settled," Luna said with a grin.

"No it's not," Hermione said in frustration.

"She's right," Susan agreed.

"I am?"

"I know," Susan sighed, "we should all stick to the theme."

"What theme?"

"Ever heard of Abbott and Costello?"


It would be several hours before the magical world got a look at their newest group of Super Heros, several hours before the fall of Lord Voldemort, and several hours before Cornelius Fudge died of spontaneous Human Combustion.

"This nameless hero is too much for you my Death Eaters?" Voldemort purred. "Too much for the purest of the pure, the elite of the elite?"

"Who's too much for us," a Death Eater agreed.

"The hero," Voldemort said.


"CRUCIO." He smiled as they screamed, as they convulsed, as their bowels released . . . the smile disappeared. "Come with me my minions, I shall lead you into battle myself and we shall take what is ours."

They arrived in Diagon Alley and the Dark Lord was taken aback at the size of the crowd that awaited them. It seemed like every Auror, every government official, every person with magical blood flowing through their veins was waiting for them with wands drawn. A small trickle of fear made its way down Voldemort's leg as he contemplated just how bad the situation was. It seemed that he had pushed the sheep of the wizarding world too far and that the sheep had decided to push back.

"He's here everyone," one of the men yelled, "let's get this show on the road." The cheering crowd began shooting sparks into the air to celebrate the momentous occasion.

"Or not," Volemort said to himself. It seemed that she sheep knew their place after all and were greeting him in a manner that befitted their conqueror.

"Not so fast fiend," Harry called from a roof top.

"Who dares?" Voldemort screamed.

"That's right," Susan agreed from another roof, "he does. And What is beside him."

"I don't know?" Hanna said. "Why?"

"Me too," Luna said.

"We won't let him stand alone," Hermione agreed from her own roof. "But How will we do it?"

"Anyway we can," Hanna said firmly, "for together we are . . ."

"The QUESTIONERS!" The girls all screamed together. They looked down to see a headless Dark Lord, several Death Eaters with their hands up, and Harry cleaning the blood off his blade.

"Thanks for the distraction ladies," Harry said grandly, "without it I may have never been able to walk up to this foul fiend and stab him in the back half a dozen times before chopping off his head . . . ha ha."

"You've defeated the Dark Lord," a reporter said in an awe filled voice. "There's just one thing I want to ask you."

"What's that good citizen?" Harry asked.

"Who are you?" The reporter demanded.

"That's right," Luna said with a wave at Harry, "Who is he."


"That's her," Luna said with a wave at Susan.

"What is your name?"

"No, what is her name."

"No," he sobbed, "that's not what I mean."

"Then speak more clearly," Luna advised.

"Your name is . . . fill in the blank."

"My name is not fill in the blank," Luna said with a scandalized expression on the portion of her face not covered by a mask, "it's . . . I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No," she disagreed. "I don't know," she said clearly.

"Why are you doing this?" The confused innocent bystander sobbed. "Can't you just speak clearly?"

"Doing what?" Hermione replied.

"You're not doing me," Susan said quickly.

"I'd like to do you both," Luna said dreamily.

"Who?" Another innocent bystander asked.

"Him too," Luna said enthusiastically, "it would be fun."

"How would it work?" Hermione asked, her eyes crossed as she tried to figure out how everything would go together.

"I don't know," Hanna admitted.

"Quite well I think," Luna replied.

AN: For those wondering what unspeakably horrible thing Harry saw, well I'll give you a hint. He saw one big happy sweaty Dursley family . . . and one dog showing each other how much they love each other, there were a few other things involved but I feel dirty enough just typing that much. Enough to crack anyone's sanity I think you'll agree. Polish by dogbertcarroll, , SlickRCBD, and Clell65619. Google 'Sheep Shagging Bastards' that and some Australian comedian are the genesis of the sheep comments. I added the lines about Abbot and Costello because several people I talked to had never heard of them or of 'Who's on first.' I suggest you google both with a video search. Proving once again that the greats are great.

Omake by and clell65619

"Is this better? I'm wearing a mask!"

"Oh yes Luna, that domino mask completely disguises you." Susan said sarcastically.

"Yes, but that's all you're wearing. In any case, even if the boys might not know, your dorm mates will recognize you from that mole."

"It's a fake mole! It's part of the disguise! I don't really have a mole shaped like Salvadore Dali in profile. It's supposed to draw the eye."

"I think the lack of panties two inches further down does that well enough."

"Besides, if you want to be a superhero, you need body armor, and weapons." Hermione's face took on a far away look, "Lots and lots of weapons."

It was Susan's turn to be taken aback. "You seem to have given this quite a bit of thought Hermione..."

Omake by ironchefor

"So, does anyone know how 'Greased Lightning' got his name?" Ginny asked curiously.

Ron, Dean, Neville, and Harry started snickering. Something about being 'fastert han a speeding bullet' wafted its way down the table from Ginny's former Muggle-born boyfriend. None of the other boys noticed that Harry's smirk an dlaugh was directed at their comments, not the masked superhero.

"No," came Luna's airy voice. "Think more along the lines of 'Lightning: So big and powerful, he'll blast you out of your shoes.'"

Ginny, Hermione, and Susan began giggling while the three boys looked rather deflated. Harry however wore his well-practiced poker face, giving away nothing.

"Oh yeah, well... what about 'Greased?'" Ron objected, a little too defensive. "Stupid git's probably related to Snape... bloody man's never heard of shampoo..."

"One word, Ron: Astroglide," Hermione explained. She hoped she didn't sound TOO enthusiastic in defending the masked crusader.


Despite her best effort, Hermione betrayed herself and cast a quick glance at Harry.

"Luna did say big."

Omake by canoncansodoff

Amelia steered Susan towards a corner booth and shoved a shot of firewhiskey in front of her niece. She remembered her first kill far too well, and knew what was her dazed-faced charge must be experiencing.

"Drink up, Susan."

"But"¦I'm not old enough to drink."

"Old enough to cast a head exploding hex, old enough to drink," Amelia said philosophically. "Who's gonna bother the Director's niece with the Director here?"

Susan's eyes flashed as she quickly checked her hair and makeup. "Oh, Auntie, Who's attention wouldn't bother me in the least."


"No, Who...do you think he was wearing a codpiece, or was that all him under that spandex?"




"No, Who."

"Who was wearing a codpiece?"

"Merlin, do you really think so?"

"Merlin was wearing a codpiece?"

Susan placed a comforting hand on her Auntie's shoulder.

"It's okay, Auntie...Harry told us to expect a period of dazed confusion after we finish a battle."

"Who said that?"

"No, Harry did, Auntie."

Susan shook her head sympathetically as she downed her shot of firewhiskey. Slamming the shot glass down on the table she asked, "Another round?"

The MLE Director's monocle slipped at her niece's behavior.

"So you drink like an adult witch?" she asked. "Need I worry about your sex life as well?"

"Oh, Auntie"¦you don't have to worry about that."

"I don't?"

"Of course not. Who is going to ravish the niece of the MLE Director? Who would be brazen enough slip his hands into her knickers? Who would dare take the virginity of the MLE Director's niece?"

"Who indeed?" Amelia asked primly.

Susan smiled brightly as she scooted around to give Amelia a hug. "Oh, thank you for seeing it that way, Auntie!"

Omake by moshehim

"I'm going to kill Which!" said Crabb.

"You are going to kill a witch, idiot," said Lucius Malfoy. "Even Goyle can mannage to speak the Minis... err... Dark Lord's English correctly!"

"Which witch are you going to kill?" asked the aforementioned Goyle, as if drawn over by the mention of his name.

"Which!" replied Crabb.

"Which one?"

"Yes, her."

"Her who?"

"No, you moron, you know, Who is to dangerous! I'll go for killing The Which!"

Belatrix lastrange heared Crabb talking. "You-Know-Who is to dangerous, he'll kill the witch instead, will he?" she mused. Drawing out her wand, she took aim, and, completely out of self- preservation and dedicated service to her Lord and Master – nothing personal, no joy or entertainment, none at all - cast: "Avada Kedavra!"

"Ooops! Sorry, Goyle, meant to kill him."

"Who?" asked Lucius.

"No, Crabb."


"Not him either, Crabb! Crucio, Lucius, don't interrupt me! Oh well, now lets try that again. Avada Kedavra!"