The Depths Of My T00by Woes

The depths of my t00by woes

The summer of June 14^th was lovely, birds were singing, flowers blossoming, and various other clichés mingled happily under the beauteous sun. However, one person wasn't following the bright and sentimental story script meant for children around the world, and unfortunately, this said person was also the star of the show. Harry Potter, vanquisher of evil demons and their bosom buddies, was suffering from an acute chronic of teenage depression.

Harry's depression, which had suddenly reeased itself like a Vanilla soufflé, had risen from many things; a disfiguration above his eyebrows, sexual tension between two clueless sidekicks, and the alarming amount of slashed objects around the whole school.

And as if that hadn't been enough, a Saviour of the World, defined by the Oxford Dictionary, had turned into [proper noun] one, named Harry Potter, who is a sex idol for witches between the ages of 12 to 40.

Relieved by Ron's sensible parents, Harry was glad that at least Molly wasn't thinking of constantly shagging his son's best friend, although he couldn't quite trust Mrs. Granger, or Madam Hooch's hawk-like eyes, for that matter...

Of course, it was expected that a Saviour of the Worl, and one so cute as Harry himself, must occasionally deal with such problems, but today had gone too far. This morning, Ginny Weasley had spilt pumpkin juice on him, and insisted on rubbing it off herself; though how anyone could accidentally spill pumpkin juice on his upper thigh 20 metres away still remained a mystery.

Harry had also discovered, through an overdue-book howler from Madam Prince, that Seamus Finnegan had borrowed "Homosexual advice for Squibs" under his name again. The particular school howler, usually given to students with considerably overdue book lists, not only wrongfully accused Harry of misdoing, but left the breakfast hall in titters about his preferred sexuality.

The afternoon had been no better either. Harry, after realising why Ron avoided any close contact with him during the morning, had rushed to the library to explain that it was Seamus who was homosexually inclined. However, when he did get there, he overheard Hermione asking Ron about the size of his wand; and therefore hurried away in hopes of progressing a relationship that should have been started ages ago.

And then, there he was, the Boy who was Unloved and Uncherished by the world, walking forlornly down the corridor. Still, even at that dark hour, Harry reasoned to himself that his day could have been much worse. He could have been abducted by Hungarian apes, forced into a harem by Voldemort, or had Malfoy prancing around the corner, thinking he resembled perfection...

Which he didn't, Harry grinned. He had discovered, one day in Potions' class, that Malfoy's left eyebrow was asymmetrical with his right one. And with that thought now in his mind, Harry cheered up enough to move on with the rest of his day.

However, what Harry did not realise was that the Oxford dictionary had also redefined angst being [cliché] Draco Malfoy walking appearing around a corridor, with a smirk on his face...

Harry turned the corner leading away from the library. However, as his eyes glanced around the corridor, they saw none other than Draco Malfoy, with an air of pure bastardly breeding approaching from the other side.

Stopping in his tracks, Harry wondered if it was too late to make a mad dash and run away. However, the minute that thought was in his mind, the almost egoist Gryffindor side of his brain made his legs stay put.

A millisecond later, and Malfoy's grey eyes had already started boring holes into his face with hatred.

"Potter, get out of my way."

"I wasn't in your way, Malfoy." Harry replied, thinking that if he hadn't been so depressed, the situation would have been rather funny. Someone should tell Malfoy that his lines were getting much too predictable.

"Was that a comeback I heard, Potter? Malfoy drawled, "Save it for the mudbloods, they might think it's really witty..."

Harry narrowed his eyes angrily. "Go bother someone else, Malfoy," he replied bluntly.

"They're not as the almighty Potter."

Harry silently groaned, and scanned all his encounters with Malfoy and how he got out of them. As the memory of Malfoy's face sprouting tentacles on platform 9 *'s surfaced, he searched for his wand, but found that it wasn't there.

And as desperate as he was, Harry wasn't quite ready to use his other wand yet.

"Look Malfoy, just leave me alone."

"Making a threat, Potter?"

Harry sighed.

"You heard me Malfoy, I'm not having a brilliant day." The moment Harry had said that, he mentally kicked himself, and braced for the sarcasm that was to come.

Why did the Malfoys, with their sarcastic bigoted remarks, always have the upper hand in everything?

"Oh, so now you're not having a brilliant day Potter?" Malfoy sneered and then began to mimic Ginny's high-pitched voice. "Oh Harry, can I rub of the pumpkin juice I accidentally spilt in your lap? Oh Harry, what's wrong, is your deformity hurting again?"

And before Harry could defended himself, Malfoy had spat angrily, "Well, damn your t00by woes, Potter."

Shocked and dazed, Harry hadn't known what to think, except that something was really wrong. Something was always wrong when a Malfoy spoke a word that wasn't in the English formal language.

"T00by, Malfoy?" he hesitantly asked.

"Of course they're t00by, Potter" Malfoy snapped. "You think you're depressed about those rumours of your homosexuality? Please, Potter; that debate was finished years ago."

Harry's cheeks flushed a Weasley red and mumbled, "I'm not gay, Malfoy."

"Of course, Potter?" Malfoy smirked, as if he had just proved a point, although Harry had no clue as to what it could.

A silence filled the air and Malfoy, looking thoroughly satisfied with himself, had started walking off before he heard-

"It's not like you don't swing that way either, Malfoy."

"Don't be a t00b Potter," he turned around and replied, " I shag anyone who takes my fancy."

Again, Harry heard that word. What on Earth did Malfoy mean with it?

"T00b, Malfoy?" he asked the retreating Slytherin.

Malfoy stopped in his tracks for a moment. "If you must know," he sighed, "t00by means dorky and stupid behaviour. T00by-ness, in other words Potter, is the epiphany of you."

Harry, feeling the surge of Gryffindor bravely again, returned the insult. "If I'm t00by, Malfoy, I'd hate to hear what you call yourself."

And the last thing Harry heard was the sarcastic sigh, "Ever so dense, Potter."

...

Late that night, as Harry walked into the Common room, he spotted a bunch of arms and legs, in fact the arms and legs of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley hurriedly extracting himself from their embarrassing position.

Hermione, the first to open her mouth, was just about to give some excuse when Harry, feeling strangely happy, stopped her in mid-sentence.

"Don't be a t00b, Hermione. I overheard you and Ron in the library."