The Sugar Quill
Author: B Bennett (Professors' Bookshelf)  Story: Chainsmoking Harry  Chapter: default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.



I always thought the ending of this was lame, and I was bored, so I added on - there you go. This is meant to be humorous, and all references are made in good fun. Leather clothing borrowed from Cassandra Claire; Ginny's garment appropriation characteristic borrowed from the Queens of H/G. Rated PG-13 for smoking, cursing, and sexual innuendo. If you're underage, read something else. JKR would be appalled.


Ron and Harry are sitting on Gringott's steps. Harry is chain-smoking.

Ron: Do you really think you should be chain-smoking, Harry?

Harry: Of course not. But Captain Kathy and B both have this idea that me smoking is hysterically funny, so here I am Say, where's your girlfriend?

Ron: [ears pink, cheeks adorably redden] You're really funny, Harry. Just because I wrote her five times a day this summer and ran what was left of my Viktor Krum figure through the Muggle wood chipper Dad keeps in the garage when she was contemplating going to Bulgaria doesn't mean she's my girlfriend.

Harry: She must be. You've nothing else - you're talent-less, do poorly in school, self-centered, and are likely to betray me once we get older. Ergo, Hermione is your consolation prize.

Ron: [stares at Harry, shocked] You really think that, Harry?

Harry: [flicks cigarette] Ah, come here, you big lug. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings [throws arm around Ron's shoulders].

Ron: [wipes face with back of hand] I can't believe you said that.

Harry: I'm sorry. You know you're my best friend [pats Ron's back]. Say, Ron?

Ron: What?

Harry: Did I ever tell you I really love your hair?

Ron: [yelps and jumps away] You just squeezed my-

Harry: [shrugs and goes into his pocket for another cigarette] Yeah, well, it's the whole Kathy and B Therapy Theory. I like to call it KBTT. They think I'm going to be really messed up come 7th year, so I figured a crush on my best friend fits well with that idea. Hey, look who's here! It's Charlie!

Charlie: Hi! It's me, Charlie!

Ron: Charlie, what're you doing here?

Charlie: [shrugs] I don't know! I was just hanging out with my dragons, and all of a sudden I'm here, wearing this [gestures to attire of dragonhide boots and loincloth]. I asked B why she pulled me into this story, but all she'll do is smile and tell me I'm pretty. [squints over Ron's shoulder] Hermione? Is that you?

Hermione: Hi Harry! Hi Ron! Hi Charlie! How're you doing? Do you like my hair? I straightened it with my personalized hair conditioner, because as we all know, curly hair is unattractive. Over the summer I also grew 6", developed a sudden passion for the Muggle group Backstreet Boys, and started dressing like a tramp [spins to model micro-mini and low cut belly shirt]. What do you think?

Harry: [slides arm around Hermione's shoulders] I like!

Ron: [glaring] Hey, watch it!

Harry: [shrugs] Sorry, mate, but this fits with KBTT. Come, Hermione, I know we're only 15, but let's go somewhere and I'll make you breathless.

Lavender: Don't worry, Ron, you have me!

Ron: Lavender? What in bloody hell are you doing here?

Lavender: I'm a plot device for people who hook up Harry and Hermione in fanfic but don't have any idea what to do with you. We're in the same year, so of course we're perfect for each other. I thought we could get married the summer after graduation, right before you get a dull job with the Ministry, during which time Harry will become either an international super spy or a world famous Quidditch player. Would you prefer a garden or church wedding?

Ron: I don't think so, Lavender. And sorry, Harry, but you're not making Hermione breathless or anything else. She's mine.

Hermione: Oh, Ron! Normally, I'd immediately have to set fire to my bra if anyone referred to me like that, but I know you don't really think of me as just a possession to be won.

Ron: Of course I don't! Listen, I need to know something. When you told me after the Yule Ball that if I didn't like you going with someone else then I should ask first next time, did you actually mean you wanted me to ask you, or did you mean it in a non-specific way?

Hermione: Non-specific? I'm sorry, I'm confused - what's non-specific about "you", "ask me", "next time", and "first"? I don't quite understand what you're-

Ron: Never-mind. Hermione, I know we argue a lot, but you rock my world. Will you be my girlfriend?

Hermione: Oh, Ron! Yes!

Ron: [reaches for Hermione's hands and leans in for a kiss] Hermione, you're wonderf - [pauses]. Harry, is that your hand on my ass?

Harry: [drops hand quickly] Oh, yeah. Sorry.

Ron and Hermione stare into each other's eyes. They lean close, their lips almost touching...

Harry: Tsk. This'll never work.

Ron: [turns around, exasperated] What?! What won't work?

Harry: This. Sure, you think you're attracted to each other, and maybe you'll have a happy year or two, but you won't last because you bicker, and everyone knows married people never bicker.

Ron: [stares at Harry] Harry, my dad collects plugs.

Harry: Yeah, I know. What does that have to do with anything?

Ron: Muggle plugs. The little end bits from electric lamps. Do you think Mum likes that? No. Do they fight about it? Yes. Did Mum not talk to Dad for an entire week when he dragged home another Muggle car even though he got a reprimand from the Ministry when we crashed the first one? Yes. Does this mean they don't love each other?

Harry: [shrugs] Why ask me? I'm all messed up - KBTT, remember?

Ron: Come on, Hermione. Let's go somewhere a little more private.

Hermione: Bye Harry! Bye Charlie! Bye Lavender!

Ron and Hermione leave.

Harry: [shrugs, turns to Lavender] So, you busy tonight?

Lavender: Sorry, Harry, but I've never seen a fanfic where we hook up, and this isn't going to be the first. Buh-bye.

Lavender leaves.

Bill appears with a soft 'pop' next to Charlie.

Charlie: Bill! B got you too, huh?

Bill: [sighs, glances down at dragonhide loincloth and boots] Doesn't she realize this isn't canon? Hey, wanna hit The Three Broomsticks? I bet Rosmerta'll give us free pitchers if we come in like this.

Charlie: Woo hoo, free beer! You coming, Harry?

Harry: I dunno. Think Draco'll be there?

Bill: Draco Malfoy? What'd do you want with him? He's a miserable git.

Harry: I don't know. I can't put my finger on it, but something about the leather loincloths reminds me of him.

Charlie: Right. Well, maybe you'll get lucky. Coming, mate?

Harry: [shrugs] Sure, why not. Let's go.

Charlie [pauses suddenly]: Harry? Get your hand off my -

Harry: Whoops! How'd that get there?

Charlie: [sternly] You know I don't play for that team, Harry.

Harry: I know, I don't either! At least, I don't think I do. I'm confused.

Bill: [drops arm around Harry's shoulders] That's OK, mate. You're not the first to have trouble keeping your hands off a Weasley man's backside. It's our lot in life to be so irresistibly attractive. And don't worry about KBTT. You'll figure it out.

Harry: [brightens] Really? Kewl. Hey, want a cigarette?

Charlie: Thanks, but I only do billywigs.

Bill: [sighs] Great. If you're planning to do that at the pub, just remember that you're wearing a loincloth. And if I know B that's all you're wearing.

B: [appears with a pop, Ginny beside her] Damn straight.

Charlie [slides arm around B's waist]: B! Baby! Why haven't you returned my owls? You promised we'd have dinner this weekend.

Bill: [glares warningly at Charlie] Watch it - she's dating me, right, B?

B [tosses head]: Take a number, sport. And tell Percy if he doesn't stop sending me flowers and bonbons, I'm calling the cops. What is it with you people?

Bill: How can we help it? It's that stunningly logical mind of yours - you're irresistible. But what're you doing in your own story?

B: [gestures to Ginny] Someone has to keep track of this one. I told her to sit quietly and behave herself, but she keeps wondering off [raps knuckles against Ginny's skull; Ginny giggles and blushes]. Not a thing up there, is there?

Bill: Nope. All she does is giggle, blush, giggle╔it is a bit annoying.

Ginny: [giggles, blushes] Hi, Harry. I wrote you a Valentine.

Harry: But it's not February.

Ginny: [giggles, blushes] Oh, Harry, you're so smart! By the way, here are your socks.

Harry: [looks down to see ankles, now bare] How'd you do -

B: You don't want to hear it. Just ask her out already, tell her you'll love her for all eternity, and make everyone happy, ok?

Harry: [looks puzzled] Ginny? But I like Cho. Ginny's Ron's little sister, I couldn't... Ron really has nice broad shoulders, don't you think? Hermione's a lucky girl. Sometimes I -

B: [snaps fingers] Hey! Cupboard Boy! I'm talking canon here. You're attracted to Ginny, or at least everyone seems to think you will be and isn't that all that matters? Kiss her already, would you?

Harry: [bites lip] Gosh, I don't know, I've never thought of Ginny like that before. [turns to Ginny] You do know that Voldemort is after me, and that I could by brutally murdered at any moment, right?

Ginny: [giggles, blushes] I like paper.

Harry: [a glow spreads over his face] Ginny! Baby! Come'on, let's find an empty broom closet and I'll show you How Deep is My Love.

B: [grabs back of Harry's robes] Nuh-uh, kiddo.

Harry: [pauses] What? But I'm -

B: I said no - you're fifteen. Some kissing in a deserted classroom, a little groping on the common room sofa after everyone else has gone to bed - maybe. But no sex in my story at your age. [turns to readers]. Got that, those of you who blew right by the "please read another story if you're too young" warning? And while I'm at it - if you're underage, for the love of God, please stop sending us smut to beta! We can only take so much!

Harry: Oh. [looks momentarily disappointed, then brightens] Hey, we were on our way to The Three Broomsticks? Want to go?

Ginny: [giggles, blushes, giggles] I like butterbeer.

Harry: [smiles happily at Ginny] Do you smoke?

Charlie: [slips arm around back around B's svelte waist] Coming?

B: [snorts] Someone's got to keep you off the ceiling.

Bill: [offers B his arm] And I'm not taking no for Saturday night, B.

B [sighs and takes Bill's arm]: Fine, whatever. Harry, give me a cigarette.

Harry: But you don't smoke.

B: I just started; you've driven me to it.

Bill: [pats B's arm reassuringly] It must be hard to be such a talented writer, on top of being charismatic, witty, and so stunningly beautiful. How do you do it, B?

B: Don't push your luck with the pick up lines - I've heard every one your family has to offer. Now come on and you can buy me a drink, because as far as I'm concerned, this story is finished.

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