The Magical Twenty-Six

There are some things that should never be discussed. There are certain things that should never be eaten. There are certain things that should never be seen. There are certain people who should not reproduce.

It would seem that all of these clues would point towards the Weasleys; however the occurrence that should never be discussed is coming to a berth. Some things cannot lurk behind closed doors forever, no matter how atrocious or horrible they may be.

This particular introduction is to prepare you for absolute horror. If the author of this story were to jump in headfirst to this incident, you would never survive. So, for this reason, I have decided to break it to you gently.

Dating is a curious practice. Often people date others because they feel that they are compatible, other times because they find that the object of their affection is too damn sexy to pass up a chance at getting in his or her pants. Some people even stick by the phrase that "opposites attract," despite the many problems that would seem to cause. However, the couple that I am here to discuss feels that they are all three: compatible, opposite enough to make things interesting, and so damn sexy to one another that they cannot keep their hands where they belong.

The couple that I am referring to is none other than Rubeus Hagrid and Filius Flitwick. I know, shocking, but I am here to tell a tale of romance that will not only make you want to puke all over your keyboard, but also fill you with the most peace and lightheartedness that you have ever felt. Here it goes:

A normal date between Hagrid and Flitwick consists of three things: dinner, a fun activity, and a little something else. On this particular day they decided to have a picnic in the dungeons. It was near Halloween and storming outside, so their outdoor dining excursion had to be cancelled. Hagrid looked into his lovers eyes and said, "Hey, Flity, if you pass me that leg of meat, I'll give you a kiss." The half-giant looked at his comrade seductively.

"Hagy-poo," replied Flitwick, "it will take more than a kiss to get me to give you that Hippogriff leg. Don't you remember that that is 4,000 Weight Watchers points? I am here to help you not hurt--now, darling, don't give me the puppy dog eyes! You know perfectly well I can't resist you when you look at me so pathetically!"

Hagrid continued to stare at his boyfriend with the saddest expression he could possibly muster. The half-goblin couldn't help but give his lover what he wanted. Hagrid put the entire leg in his mouth and sucked the meat off in one go. "That was delicious! The best you've ever fried!" Hagrid praised his significant other. "However, it was not as delicious as something else I can think of." He gave Flitwick a knowing, lusty look.

Flitwick blushed. "You know what happens now," said Hagrid.

Due to the graphic nature of the scene, which is triple-X dealing that I am certain no one wants to read about, we will skip forward to the rest of their date.

While you may not know this, it is my duty to inform you that one of Hagrid's favorite pastimes is fishing, so what better a way to pass the time than to go down to the Black Lake to go whaling...because regular fishing didn't impress Flitwick, who was a three time world champion fisher (he won only using his toes, yes, he's that badass). So, off Hagrid and Flitwick went to the Black Lake, Hagrid carrying the binoculars, Flitwick toting the harpoons and such. They were both clad in their whaling gear: Flitwick, a black plastic and chainmail slicker and Hagrid in a pink see-through poncho that appeared to have once been an advertisement for Kotex Tampons.

They manned their magical boat and floated to the middle of the lake. Suddenly (and wonderfully for dramatic effect), Moby Dick himself rose from the rancid waters of the Black Lake. "CALL ME HAGRID!" yelled the burly man, wielding his harpoon like a beauty queen shows off her flowers. Throwing the harpoon with as much strength as he could muster, Hagrid screamed, the epitome of manliness.

After Flitwick had levitated the harpoon from the one foot that Hagrid managed to throw it, Flitwick took his kill shot. And by this I mean that he threw himself from the boat and onto the back of the great white whale. As Flitwick poised the harpoon in the air, ready to strike, Hagrid began to wail.

"NOOOO, FLITY!" he sobbed. "THAT WHALE IS A WHALE OF MYTH AND LEGEND! TO KILL HIM WOULD BE LIKE KILLING DUMBLEDORE!!!"

"But, Haggy," replied Flitwick, "Dumbledore's already dead." Of course this made the large brute cry even harder. In case you haven't noticed, Hagrid is a bit of a wimp. "Aww, come here, baby," said Flitwick soothingly as he threw his harpoon nonchalantly off of the back of the great white whale.

At this moment, however, Ron Weasley happened to be swimming through the Black Lake. He was wearing a pair of bright orange water wings that still did not compare to the color of his hair. The harpoon stabbed him straight through the chest, unbeknownst to Hagrid and Flitwick, who were smooching and rocking the boat.

"Hagrid," started Flitwick, "I've been meaning to ask you something for a long time."

"What's that dear?"

The short man blushed. "Will you...will you marry me?"

Happy tears ran down Hagrid's cheeks. As he nodded his head he knew that Flitwick would make him the happiest half-giant in the world.

Definitely