Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Infertility (WIP)

Lactose and Tea Leaves

   We work on the chapterz in partz, so you may want to check back to see if we added anything before moving on. It can be super confusing otherwise. Thx guyz for all the viewz. XOXOXOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOOXOOXOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOOXOXOXOOXOXOXOXOOXOXOOXOXOX <3

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   Finally resigning to his fate, Harry slumped against the wall with a sigh. It was completely hopeless. All time was a blurred together with the absence of a window to check outside... oh look! A clock! 

   It was one of those fancy grandfather clocks that were taller than you and had the fancy hands; the wood ones that stood upright. 6:14, it read. 

   Harry wasn't entirely sure if that was A.M. or P.M, but regardless, he was most definitely late for work. He always woke up at 6:30 to go to work, so this meant it was either the evening or the next morning. Honestly, with his concussion messing everything up, it was a 50/50 chance for either option. 

   Harry rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes and slumped to the floor. God, Hermione was going to kill him. 

   A tiny pop resounded throughout the basement. Was that stupid broken record of a house elf back again? He sat up, looking around to check, and saw not a house elf, but Hermione emerge from the shadows. Her eyes were wide and she looked like she was in a state of borderline panic. 

   "Harry! Oh my, Harry, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you... Harry, I have to tell you something. Draco, he..." 

   "He what? Did something happen?" 

   "He..." 

   "I sure hope he got into some tragic accident, that little g*t deserves to die." 

   "HE'S LACTOSE INTOLERANT!" 

   And Hermione disappeared. 

   "Wait! Hermione! How did you Apparate out? How do you even know he's lactose intolerant? Why does it matter?! You could've at least brought me some useful news, like you pushed him off a bridge or something! GOSH!" 

   Harry's expression turned grim. "That nasty little bugger. When I get out of this place, I'm going to curse him in places where the sun don't shine. UGH, I HATE HIM! IT'S NO FAIR!  I haven't had a decent wand fight with him in years! Thanks a lot, Ginny! Ugh! I hate you, Ginny! It's not fair!" 

   He spent the next half an hour cursing out Ginny. Which one, Hagrid or Weasley, he wasn't sure. But he sure felt good afterwards. It was only then, after several hours that consisted of him crying, peeing, yelling, screaming, complaining, whining, actually trying to escape (surprising coming from Harry), and cursing, Harry remembered the house elf. 

   "Oh..." Harry cautiously walked back over to the house elf who had a passive and annoyed look upon its face. "Hello, Mary Pop-- Agh, whatever! H*ck pressing A to continue. Take this stuff and go, I'm tired of your st*pidity." The house elf shoved a pouch into Harry's hands and Apparated away.

   Harry eagerly looked inside, he loved gifts! However, inside the burlap bag riddled in spots of moisture, there was no fun toy (he was hoping for another fidget spinner to add to his collection of 68) or delicious candy. It could have been a boring, "practical" gift from Hermione it was so boring.

   "UGHHHHhhhhhhhhhhh!" Harry pulled out a note, it read:

Dearest Harry, I don't have much time. Their backs are conveniently turned so they can't see me writing this. I have been kidnapped because I have information to tell you that they don't want you to know. I need you to save me so I can tell you. I can't write it here because it wouldn't be professional and because it might be intercepted. I DID NOT pay 10 million pounds for 1 hour of becomearealdoctornotascam.com to be unprofessional. I have disclosed a map with my location tracked on it. I also disclosed a Swiss Army knife, I'm afraid magic won't be able to do much against them. Please come mentally, physically, spiritually, and s*xually prepared, if they were able to kidnap me, ME (a brilliant wizard), you can barely stand a chance. Good luck and farewell.

"Doctor" HazelNUT (hehehe)

"UGHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh!" Harry groaned very loudly; he hated work. Why did he always have to save the world?

    Harry threw up his arms in vexation. "You know what? H*ck it. I'm not doing Doctor HazelNUT (hehehe)'s dirty work. He wants to escape so badly? He should've done it himself, considering how bad the  people who kidnapped him are at their job. They didn't even pat him down, he snuck in contraband!" 

   Harry was about to tear up the letter when he saw writing at the very bottom of the note, written so small it was like the fine print in adoption papers. At least, that's what Harry assumed. He wouldn't know, of course, because all of his children were very much biological. 

   "P.S: Harry, my dude. Listen here. You even think about abandoning this quest and I'll fre*king tear you a new one. Got it? K cool." 

Harry rolled his orbs at this, like a shiny Hulk doing a cartwheel on a white canvas. Such informal writing. What was this savagery? We're not cavemen. And then, another note:

"P.S.S. As a last resort to convince you, I have milk."

Harry sat there for a good minute wondering why in the world milk would convince him to save this random doctor guy, but then it clicked. Milk = lactose. And Draco was lactose intolerant.

Milk had been off the market for years now because of some alleged "eggnog incident". Something about H&M selling black market eggnog. They didn't want people trying to re-spark this, so they just banned all the ingredients in eggnog until things could be sorted out. Of course, things were never sorted out because the Prime Minister was killed in his sleep, resulting in the government closing all their doors.

Milk was a precious resource, a delicacy almost. This was too good to be true. He would poison Draco's tea and the world would be at peace again (he would miss the wand fights though).

"This is great!" Harry exclaimed. He laughed out loud in marvel and pumped his fist in the air. He was like a kid again getting his first Beyblade set and LETTING IT RIP. And he was experiencing that exhilarating rush you only get when you go motorbiking or skydiving or when you have your first k*ss.

   Finally satisfied, Harry opened up the attached map. It was like the Marauder's Map. It was fraying at the edges and slightly yellow and water-stained; the type of thing you'd find at some antique shop on the side of the road.

The sort of antique shop that you'd sell all your OG Beyblades at to get some sweet moola, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't forget about them. But it's over with, they're sitting at some window collecting dust, disappointed every time someone walks through the door and doesn't spare a glance at them. 

Hypothetically. Harry would never do something so outrageous... 

Harry was ready to break down into tears -- those poor Beyblades didn't deserve that -- but, for once, Harry had a sense of purpose. So he looked down at his map through his tears and started his quest.