Challenge note: This was written for the Slashing the Slashers Challenge. My job was to take two people, put them together somehow, and throw them into the fanfic universe of my choice. This was the result.

Harry yawned. The late-spring sun was bemusingly warm, and the tree he was leaning against exceedingly comfortable. He could hear giggling from a few trees away, where a couple of seventh year girls were recovering from their last day of N.E.W.Ts by picnicking under an oak tree.

He forced his eyes open and looked at Hermione's book. It was probably her usual "light reading. It looked excessively dull. Straight text, blocks and blocks and blocks of it. And what was the use of a book, he thought, without words and pictures? He rubbed at his eyes, wondering if a nap before dinner would be out of the question--

--and then a Blast-Ended Skrewt wandered by, and Harry sat up straight. "Ah, Hermione?"

No response from Hermione, who probably wouldn't leave that book until the Skrewt blasted it to pieces. Harry expected to hear panicked screams, but maybe no one was looking. He struggled to his feet and followed it.

It walked towards the oak tree Harry had just noticed. "Watch out!" he yelled, then stared open-mouthed as the Skrewt wandered up to the nearest girl and sniffed her. Instead of screaming at the top of her lungs, she reached out to pet it.

"It, um, blasts," Harry said.

"He's not blasting me, are you, baby?" she said. She scratched it under its, um, end, and it wriggled like a dog. The other girl leaned over too.

"You've got a nose!" she said as she bopped it lightly.

Harry blinked. "No it doesn't."

The first girl looked up and saw him for the first time. "Gork!" she said. She poked her friend. "Look who it is, Lishan!"

Lishan looked up. "Aiya!" she said. What was with these girls? "It's The Boy Who Lived. "She laid her curl-topped head on the other girl's shoulder. "You said he'd been bad. He doesn't look bad." She pinned him with big hazel eyes. "Does he, Maren?"

"Wait a sec--" Harry started indignantly, but Maren was already laughing. The Skrewt was nosing through the ends of her sleek brown hair, which reached almost to the ground as she sat.

"He's not bad...he's just no good." Her hand was tangled in Lishan's curls, sort of petting her too, and the flirty tone in her voice was not aimed at Harry. He swallowed.

"I--with the--you--I should--"

"There goes the baby," Maren said, and the Skrewt was indeed headed for Hogwarts proper. "Aren't you going to--"

Harry headed after it, walking sideways and then almost backwards as Maren and Lishan bent their heads together, talking...he was pretty sure they were talking.

"Oof!" His foot caught on something, and Harry's hands flew out to catch himself. They encountered nothing.

And nothing.

And more nothing.

After a bit more nothing, it occurred to Harry that he was falling. "This is not good," he said to the empty air. It echoed back at him oddly. "Oh, this really isn't good at all."

There was a whoosh of air. Something big, really big, was falling, and in defiance of several natural laws it was falling faster than Harry. He windmilled off to one side.

It was a big, gray...farmhouse. Followed closely by a bicycle, an oil can, and a little black dog, its scruffy fur standing on end.

Harry glared at the dog. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm quite sure that you're not supposed to be here," he told it.

It barked at him once and then Transfigured into the Blast-Ended Skrewt. A burst of flame caught the edge of his robes.

"Aaaaah!"

When Harry looked up--or rather down--from batting at the flames, the ground was rapidly approaching.

Thump!

He lay still for a moment, doing a rapid status report. Bones all in one piece, check. Robes slightly singed, check. Stupid bloody Skrewt waddling away way too fast--oh, great. He hauled himself up and stumbled after it.

The Skrewt was passing through a wide doorway. There was writing next to it; as he stopped to read, the words shimmered and a deep, familiar voice ("Snape?" Harry gasped) began to recite them:

If you are a wizard, come in.
If you are a wizard,
A witch,
A diviner,
Animagus,
Enchanter,
A Quidditch broom flyer,
If your soul is magic, come, sit by my fire,
We've potions to brew and it's time to begin.
Come in!
Come in!

He stepped cautiously through the door and found himself in the Potions classroom. Snape was in his usual position at the front of the room. Only one seat was occupied. It was Lishan, from the--um--picnic. She was crunching up biscuits and dropping them into her cauldron.

"Detecting an unregistered Animagus is particularly difficult," Snape said, and Harry's fingers automatically reached for the quill he wasn't carrying. "But if a solution containing these crumbs is ingested, the Animagus will give off an orange glow."

"Wow," Lishan said. She looked up and waved at Harry. Snape continued on, not even noticing him for once. Harry stepped closer and noticed something at her feet.

"Who's that?" She nudged the body with her foot until blond hair came into view. "Draco? How did--what did--you--"

"He tried to eat my biscuits," she said. "I like my biscuits."

"So you--"

She whipped one hand out in a fairly realistic-looking karate blow. "Hi-ya!"

"Ohhhh." He backed away. "Well, congratulations, I suppose. I'm going to just--um--" He saw the Skrewt waddling out the door. "'Bye!"

The stairs out of the dungeon seemed much longer than usual. Harry trudged up them, wondering if this was going to take all day and if his legs always ached this much climbing this staircase and how that blasted creature had gotten out of sight again. Then he got to the landing--

--and stared at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Huh?"

"Password?"

"Evil Cheesecake."

The common room was pretty quiet. Just Percy, Fred and George, and--oh dear--Lishan's friend Maren. Wait. "Percy, why are you here?"

"Why shouldn't I be here? Potter, what did you do to your robes? Don't make me take points from Gryffindor." Percy glared at him and went back to braiding one side of Maren's hair. Fred and George were working together on the opposite side.

"We tried our newest invention on Seamus," Fred said cheerfully.

"Oh? How did it work?"

"He died!" George exclaimed.

"He what?"

"It was great! He said it was the best one yet."

Harry shook his head. "Seamus said that?"

"Yeah, Fred, hand me the barrette." Fred handed over a red fluffy hair thingy.

"Before he died?"

"No, after. Honestly, Harry, keep up!"

"Don't blame Harry," Maren said. "He's had a long day, you know?"

"Plus he's bad," Percy said, finishing his braid. Maren pulled them both forward and examined them critically. "Well, not really bad, just--"

"I don't want to hear it," Harry said.

Maren jumped up, twitched her hair so her braids flew behind her back, and grabbed Harry's hand. "Come with me."

Harry wasn't even surprised when the portrait opened out to the Quidditch field. Maren let go of his hand and ran ahead of him. After a few steps she leaned down and did a handstand. Her robes stayed in place, with her toes just peeking out from beneath--above--them. She made it to midfield before turning back to her feet. Her braids were sticking straight out to the side now.

"We're going to play!" she said and did a spontaneous backflip.

"Play what?"

"Silly!" someone said behind him. Harry turned to see Lishan, carrying two brooms. "Skrewt-itch, of course!" She handed a broom to Maren and something to Harry.

"This is ham." He looked closer. "This is green ham."

"So?"

"Lishan," Maren murmured.

Lishan huffed. "Fine." She waved her wand over the ham. "Samiam!" she intoned, and the ham turned ham-colored again.

"Boys." Maren rolled her eyes.

Lishan nodded. "Oh well. Ready to play?"

"Kiss for luck?"

Harry stared fixedly at the ham.

"Okay. Go!"

Their brooms were close enough to ruffle Harry's hair as they took off. He squinted up, trying to see the Snitch--

"Oh. That's where it went."

The Skrewt was paddling its way through the air. Both girls were technically chasing it, although they were spending a bit more time doing loop-the-loops and barrel rolls than Harry was accustomed to.

Round and round and round... Amid shouts of "Aiya!" and "Gork!" they closed in on it. They slowed their brooms until each faced one end of the Skrewt. Each reached out and tapped it--

"Uh-oh." The Skrewt was falling. Right towards him. "Uh-oh."

It came closer and closer--

--it was blotting out the sun--

--it was going to squish him--

--he couldn't move--

--it was almost on top of him--

--it was--

"Oof!" Harry jerked upright, pushing it off him. Then he stopped and looked at "it" again. "Ron?"

"Ow! Harry, are you all right?"

Harry just blinked up at him.

"Ron!" Hermione shoved Ron away. "You idiot. Harry, are you all right? Honestly, climbing trees like that. You should expect to fall out. I can get Madame Pomfrey if you want."

Harry sorted out which statements belonged to him. "No. No, I'm all right. Ron, did you fall out of the tree?"

"Yeah, right on you." Rob stopped checking his own injuries to grin. "Good aim, huh?"

Hermione drew breath to scold, but Harry just laughed. "Aiya." He leaned his head back against the tree. "Gork."

"What?" Hermione asked. "Harry, are you sure--"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. But if you see any Blast-Ended Skrewts, run in the other direction." He started laughing again at the looks on his friends' faces.

--the end--