Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Infertility (WIP)

The Demented

UGHHHHH OMG We would have more done if COUGH COUGH ERIN COUGH COUGH would have updated!!!!!!!! Sorry guyz, your loyal author JAMIE will try to add more because I know y'all are excited for more.

Also, this is our first author's note!!!!!!!! So exciting, what a milestone. Sorry guyz if it ruins the immersion.

Also also, if ANY of you guyz think this is a troll, ur WRONG!!!!!!! This is extremely serious writing by very serious people on a very serious account about a very serious topic in a very serious story which is in a very serious writing style.

Love ya!

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   Long after Harry had relieved himself, he thought it would be a good idea to try and Apparate again. "How hard could it be?" Harry protested against his better judgement. His concussion smuggled away any sense of rationality and he was left stumbling around like a fool with a blindfold. So of course, desperate to get home, Harry was going to take what he could get, logical or not. 

   He close his eyes and concentrated on home, on his pre-made vegetable platters and his abundance of tea. His favorite spot by the window where he liked to watch the seasons descend from above — the sun's rays reflecting off the glass and scorching the sidewalks in the summer, the blur of colored leaves in the fall, the snowflakes in the winter, and the sparkling rain in the spring. And then he thought of his faithful wife Ginny — her wild red locks, and how she smelled like cedar wood chips and the freshly cut grass of the Quidditch field and broomstick closets like the ones that they used to m*ke out in at Hogwarts...

   Except Ginny didn't make him think of home, because she was never there. Sure, she made him think of long hours at work and loyalty and "remember to pay your fr**king taxes" and "shoelace", but never, not once, of home. 

   So he focused on his tea. His ginseng instead of Ginny. Oolong instead of "too long since I've last seen you." Chai instead of "Bye." Chamomile instead of "Have a meal all by yourself because I won't be home tonight. Or tomorrow night. Or any night at all. I love you, just not enough to make sure you're doing okay or that your Ministry coworkers aren't giving you a hard time. I love you, just not enough to drop by the house and want to stay. I love you. Just not enough." 

   Tea was always there for him, right? Not once had it left Harry's side, and even if it did, he could always go buy more. You couldn't buy more Ginnys. You can't go into your local grocery store and ask if they had a Ginny Weasley in stock. 

   Wallowing in pity, Harry's original task was forgotten. He just sat in the corner and tried to hold back his manly tears. 

   "I'm never getting out of this place. It's not like there's a door or anything leading out, that's ridiculous. GINNY, COME BACK TO ME!"

   Harry heard the stomps of presumably Hagrid rushing into the room. "What the h*ck do you want, Harry?" 

   "Hagrid? What are you doing? I called for Ginny. Silly Hagrid, you don't even remember your own name." Harry laughed maniacally at Hagrid's stupidity. 

   "What? No! That's my... my, uh, girl name. I thought it was nice. Gotta get it legally changed now. Send Molly my thanks for the inspiration. Toodles." Hagrid started walking out of the room. 

   "Wait!" Harry objected. "Hagrid, did you know I'm the official name changer of the Wizarding world? That's why I have so many titles, I gave them to myself. You wanna get your name changed? I've got papers just for you. I keep official name changing papers for all my friends, in fact," Harry said speedily, taking a load of paperwork out of his coat pocket. He flipped through them, licking his fingers to separate pages, and then waved around a couple he selected out of the bunch. 

   "See? I've even got a pen, I can just sign them..." 

   "NO!" Hagrid shouted, his voice going up two octaves. He cleared his throat. "Uh, I mean, no. Yer' too kind, Harry. But that's kinda creepy and I don't think I'm ready to change my name right now —" 

   "You were ready a couple minutes ago, weren't you?" Harry gave him a death glare. "Are you making me waste my time? I won't allow this. Now, since you can't seem to get it through your thick skull, I'll walk you through it. See this thing in my hand? It's a fountain pen, nifty, right? Right. Now I'm going to lower it to the parchment, like so," —He brought his hand down on the signature line— "And sign my name. 'Harrrrryyyyyy Pottteeeerrrrrrrrr. Official Name Changer.' There we go! That wasn't too hard, was it?" He looked up, grinning, at Hagrid — no, Ginny, as his signature glowed gold and the papers disappeared. Ginny looked stunned, staring at the place the papers used to be. 

   "Uh, uhhhh, thanks, Harry. Real, uh, real nice of you. I mean ya. Real nice of ya. I'm just gonna goooo...." Ginny's voice trailed off and she?/he???? scooted out of the room. 

    "Why does everyone leave me?" 

That was a good business idea though. Harry loved Ginny with all his heart, almost as much as he loved tea. He was sure that consumers would love her too, almost as much as they love tea. She was very faithful, that one.

Anyway, escaping, back to business (and not the selling Ginnys kind).

Harry waved his wand majestically and gracefully. Waving it over his outfit: loose-fitting, dark grey sweatpants that were very comfortable, yet appropriate to go out in public in. On top, he wore a simple, warm, white, waffle-knit long sleeved shirt that was crisp and surprisingly had no tea stains on it. On his feet he simply wore thick winter socks in a cozy-looking brown color with white specks of yarn woven in, the toes were a solid-looking light grey, contrasting with the dark grey of his sweatpants. Ginny had given him those socks, back in the good old days, back when they were in love.

He tried to Apparate and summon that twisting, claustrophobic feeling in his stomach. He tried to no avail. His wand wasn't even working, perhaps worn out from all those wand fights with Malfoy and Voldemort back in the day. He missed those days even if he was constantly in danger. Now that he married Ginny, he couldn't have wand fights anymore. With anyone, not just Draco and ol' Voldy, it wasn't morally correct.

"Lumos"

"Wingardium Leviosa"

"EXPECTO PATRONUM"

Nothing was working, so Harry put his wand back in his pants (the pocket, mind you). He was going to have to figure this out the Muggle way. He used his orbs to looks around the dank and depressing room. There was a door. He turned the knob. It didn't open. Harry was still wondering why he was here. He thought back to how he got here, it was all thanks to that h*cking doctor and his h*cking note. 

WHAT WAS HE GOING TO DO?

For once in his life, Harry Potter needed help. He had had many miracles in his life, but this one might be the one that never comes (heh).