Pet Peeve#1: Why the eff should I have a disclaimer that I'm not making money off this? If I'm writing on a fanfiction site for Athena's sake, you'd think that would be obvious. (That being said, some people have hilarious disclaimers.)


Harry ducked out of the portrait hole and strode confidently away from the Gryffindor common room. He smiled slightly as girls screamed and rushed towards him.

"That's right ladies, give old Harry Potter some love." He said, smiling and stretching his arms out to encompass all his fan girls. Ever since becoming captain of the Quidditch team, Harry had been finding that his natural talents at the sport, as well as being the highly successful captain of the equally successful Gryffindor team had led to girls fainting in the halls offering to let him steal their knickers whenever he winked at them. To his surprise, Harry discovered that he liked the positive attention. Having girls falling at his feet and being the envy of every male in the school was far preferable to having everyone believing that he was a liar and ought to be hamstrung for every misdeed the Prophet claimed he had committed.

The girls, as one, screaming again and running towards Harry composed a wave of sultriness and exuded mating hormones that lit Harry's brain on fire. Harry shuddered in place and waited for the girls to fall over him and start giving him the love. He closed his eyes, beamed, and stretched his arms out wider to encompass them all.

A blast of rushing wind screamed past him, nearly knocking him off his feet and left him reeling in circles, trying to regain his balance. Harry swore under his breath and cursed himself for not exercising besides Quidditch practice; the exercising that Quidditch offered only kept the top half of his body in shape. Everything below his abs was flab. Imaging what his staggering in drunken circles would do for his fledging reputation as a sexy stud made him wince.

Finally regaining his balance without getting up close and personal with the flagstones under his feet, Harry turned in a bewildered circle looking for his fan girls and finally noticed a cloud of dust off in the distance, outside a window. Highly confused, Harry found the nearest exit and began following the dust cloud.

"Someone must have Confounded them!" he said to himself, sure that an attack was beginning on the thirty hottest girls in school. "It must be a ruse to make me leave the relative safety of the school and meet my demise at the hands of Voldemort and his evil but accursedly attractive Death Eaters!" Determined to save his loyal, sexy fangirls (and Millicent), Harry doggedly followed the receding trail of dust.

Rounding the corner of the lake, Harry nearly tripped over a slowly crawling form that was covered in dusty footprints and a few purplish bruises on the visible skin that were clear imprints of Hogwarts uniform standard issue black dress shoes, designed to go well with your robes, no matter the occasion! Harry belated recognized the girl as Hannah Abbot.

"Hannah?" he asked, disbelievingly. How could the girl's hair get so matted and her eyes so bloodshot in such a short time? He'd seen her, looking gorgeous and wanton mere minutes before, flinging herself at him outside the Gryffindor common room. She looked up and past him with glazed, unseeing eyes, still smiling despite her obviously uncomfortable state.

"What a man!" she said, words barely slurred at all. "Must…reach…the sexy beast. How can one man have so much testosterone?" Hannah twitched and fell over, one hand still outstretched in the direction of the dust cloud. Horrified by the treatment that the rest of the girls must be enduring, if Hannah's condition was anything to go by, Harry ascertained that Hannah was still breathing, then took off at a dead run for the other end of the lake.

Panting and sweating, Harry was about to collapse with a dreadful stitch in his side when the faint sound of shrieking girls met his ears. Immediately a new burst of energy flooded his veins and he found the strength to speed up to a slow jog for the remaining half a kilometer.

"I'm coming, ladies!" he croaked, wondering if Dobby would hear him and come with a glass of water if he asked nicely for one.
The group of girls was hidden by a large outcropping of rock that jutted out into the lake. Manfully, Harry waded around it managed to reach the other side without getting more than his shoes wet. Nothing could have prepared the hero for what lay on the other side. When he finally managed to blink enough sweat out of his eyes to focus clearly on what lay beyond him; the world's sexiest man standing on the body of Harry's most dreadful foe, shouting triumphantly, and holding his wand above his head. The crowd of adoring girls surrounding him, clamoring to be heard.

"Neville, I want to have your babies!"

"We love you, Neville!"

"How did we never notice before how HOT he is?"

Harry's brain could not handle this input of imformation; twitching slightly, he collapsed on the ground.
Harry came to when a US size 5 three in heel impacted with his chest. Moaning, he blinked and noticed that he was staring up Parvati Patil's robe with a wonderful view of her white flowered knickers. The crowd had shifted to encompass Harry, and the star struck girls were not cognizant enough of Harry's presence to care if they were standing over him.

"Nevile…" Harry barely managed to push the word past his cracked and dry lips. In an instant, his attentive friend was at his side.

"Harry! I'm so sorry, I had no idea how devastating I can be! I didn't mean to kill your arch nemesis, destroy his horcruxes, and make every female in Hogwarts fall desperately in love with me, but now that it's happened you won't be too sore, will you?" the teenager actually looked worried and Harry waved a hand feebly. Neville snatched at it and tenderly helped Harry to his feet. Now both of them were completely surrounded up the females, all trying to tug Harry away from the object of their adoration in order to be closer to him than Harry was.

"Wh..what did you do that was so potent?" Harry managed to ask. Neville turned from where he had been whispering something in Tonk's ear—how the hell did she get there, when, and why? Harry wondered—that caused her cheeks and hair both to flush bright red. Neville turned away from her with a brilliant smile.

"Eh, what did you say, Harry?" the sheer force of Neville's smile knocked out every girl who looked directly on his handsome face, and when he made eye contact with the hapless Harry Potter, the boy's face turned deathly pale and he collapsed, all the testosterone in his body turning into estrogen making him faint before the power of Neville's manliness and attractiveness. Sighing slightly, Neville lay Harry at full length on the ground. He stood up and shrugged.

"Honestly." He murmured to himself. "Who would have thought that a simple straight-toothed smile in a ruggedly handsome face would wreak so much havoc?"

All around him, the crowd of girls spontaneously orgasmed as Neville lifted one eyebrow and and motioned for the girls to follow him back to the castle.

"I have a feeling that the Room of Requirement will be happy to service us, ladies." he chuckled, leaving the prone forms of Harry and Voldemort to be carried to the terminal ward of St Mungo's by thousands of field mice.


Seriously, I have no idea when Matthew Lewis went from being an ugly little kid (he had cotton stuffed in his cheeks throughout all of the movies to make him look that way) to the freaking hottie he is right now.


(I do enjoy getting reviews, and if you review one of my stories, I'll read and review at least one of yours!)