Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Probable Problems Performed Perfectly under Polyjuice
One hell of a response
Harry Potter looked into a room with complete and utter horror. He didn't plan to be put into a situation where he found his girlfriend fucking her own brother but he found himself there none-the-less, and hyphenatedly so. He looked towards many sources as to the possible reason for the predicament and found only one reason. YOU. You, my gentle reader where the reason for this and no one else.
Harry Potter prayed for another solution to this but found no other reason except that the gentle reader of this story found it to be rather like a train on the tracks that had come to a point that would go no futher.
He reached up from the pits that he found his rather lacking Gryffindor courage to be an whimpered rather weakly. 'Why?' He thought and then before answering his own questions sat and stewed. He had no direction, nor encouragement towards which way the passer-by wanted him to go. He didn't look towards praise or atta-boys I can't wish to see what you do next.
Harry just simply wanted it to end. But for some unknown reason he knew that there were UNKNOWN people whom tended to rate what was happening without so much as a word to the kind and gentle narrator
So this is where we found our story, sitting in limbo. The story wanted to be told but the readers didn't really care one way or another because their rather full tube of tissue was sitting there unused, unwanted but mostly because they didn't find a description that declared a Harry/Draco ship and that it wasn't a poofy challenge to get them all pointing north.
In fact, Dorothy approached this journal and found that not only were the entries not friendly whatsoever, but that the rainbows weren't imprinted upon a bumpersticker with friend catch phrases leading the reader towards orange as the new pink.
If you're reading this, in fact then color me disappointed that you didn't invest enough of an opinion to say that it sucked the first go around, and if there is the glint of hope that you liked the hack job I did, well, too little too late.
Have a nice day, Harry.
Harry watched in utter horror as the worlds appeared on the pages before him, scolling from left to right in a frantic manor which clearly indicated that the words that flittered across the page were actual actions, actually happened and coming to life in front of him.
He stood up and quickly threw the planner down, now recognizing it as one that was given to him by his best friend, Hermione Granger. This couldn't be happening, it had to be Tom Riddle, but the denial that the script was his and not that looping formal script he remembered his second year, well. There was the rub.
He turned and quickly picked the book up again and this time opened it at the front and started reading again.
Harry,
I don't know what the bloody hell is going on. I just got this strange book. It appeared in my room as if it belonged here, and I started reading. It reminds me alot of Tom's diary and scared me initially to find a rather disturbing story about horcruxes and incest. I didn't want to believe it at first. When I threw the strange book away I noticed how much it reminded me of the day planner that Hermione had given me, and looking across the room like I am now I realized that perhaps it is the same book, which in and of itself is rather disturbing. Was the book sent to me from the future? More so, is it a prank from the twins? Time with tell, but one thing is definitely for sure. It scares the shit out of me.
Harry
Harry dropped the book again and with a deep sigh walked briefly across the smallest bedroom at number Four Privett drive and retrieved the other dayplanner, and noticed the start of an entry on that very same page.
Harry, was written on the top of the page.
Harry Potter looked into a room with complete and utter horror. He didn't plan to be put into a situation where he found his girlfriend fucking her own brother but he found himself there none-the-less, and hyphenatedly so. He looked towards many sources as to the possible reason for the predicament and found only one reason. YOU. You, my gentle reader where the reason for this and no one else.
Harry Potter prayed for another solution to this but found no other reason except that the gentle reader of this story found it to be rather like a train on the tracks that had come to a point that would go no futher.
He reached up from the pits that he found his rather lacking Gryffindor courage to be an whimpered rather weakly. 'Why?' He thought and then before answering his own questions sat and stewed. He had no direction, nor encouragement towards which way the passer-by wanted him to go. He didn't look towards praise or atta-boys I can't wish to see what you do next.
Harry just simply wanted it to end. But for some unknown reason he knew that there were UNKNOWN people whom tended to rate what was happening without so much as a word to the kind and gentle narrator
So this is where we found our story, sitting in limbo. The story wanted to be told but the readers didn't really care one way or another because their rather full tube of tissue was sitting there unused, unwanted but mostly because they didn't find a description that declared a Harry/Draco ship and that it wasn't a poofy challenge to get them all pointing north.
In fact, Dorothy approached this journal and found that not only were the entries not friendly whatsoever, but that the rainbows weren't imprinted upon a bumpersticker with friend catch phrases leading the reader towards orange as the new pink.
If you're reading this, in fact then color me disappointed that you didn't invest enough of an opinion to say that it sucked the first go around, and if there is the glint of hope that you liked the hack job I did, well, too little too late.
Have a nice day, Harry.
Harry watched in utter horror as the worlds appeared on the pages before him, scolling from left to right in a frantic manor which clearly indicated that the words that flittered across the page were actual actions, actually happened and coming to life in front of him.
He stood up and quickly threw the planner down, now recognizing it as one that was given to him by his best friend, Hermione Granger. This couldn't be happening, it had to be Tom Riddle, but the denial that the script was his and not that looping formal script he remembered his second year, well. There was the rub.
He turned and quickly picked the book up again and this time opened it at the front and started reading again.
Harry,
I don't know what the bloody hell is going on. I just got this strange book. It appeared in my room as if it belonged here, and I started reading. It reminds me alot of Tom's diary and scared me initially to find a rather disturbing story about horcruxes and incest. I didn't want to believe it at first. When I threw the strange book away I noticed how much it reminded me of the day planner that Hermione had given me, and looking across the room like I am now I realized that perhaps it is the same book, which in and of itself is rather disturbing. Was the book sent to me from the future? More so, is it a prank from the twins? Time with tell, but one thing is definitely for sure. It scares the shit out of me.
Harry
Harry dropped the book again and with a deep sigh walked briefly across the smallest bedroom at number Four Privett drive and retrieved the other dayplanner, and noticed the start of an entry on that very same page.
Harry, was written on the top of the page.
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