#harry potter crack fics

[violet-phoenix-nebula]

Okay, I considered using a sideblog for this like I would my alt on reddit and then I remembered... Jesus christ, this is tumblr, nobody here actually gives a flying rat's ass about weird fandom shit.

So, that being said, are there any Albus/Hermione shippers out there? Like, any at all? Even as a crack ship? Time travel, anything? I mean, Hermione/Voldemort exists in surprising amounts so there has to be somebody and my guess is that anyone who ships it is probably here on our beloved hellsite.

Anyway, if you're out there then sound off in the notes or in asks/DMs cause I'm curious and I also kinda have a fic idea (don't ask me where it came from, I have no answers) that I'm searching for both brainstorming help and a potential audience.

[pendragonsclotpole]

this is probably me just hitting peak insanity after scrolling on this website for too long but like

whoever had the brilliant idea of making the well-known old merlin character into a young man (younger than arthur, mind you, and upending the stereotypical mentorship role characteristic of the legend!) and basing the entire story on the bond (romantic! i will die on this hill) between merlin and arthur and THEN MAKING IT WORK was a genius

like imagine if 500 years from now when an ip like harry potter is public domain and ubiquitously known as a tale of magic, someone just straight up decides to rewrite the story by de-aging dumbledore and making him the same age as Harry and then writing an entire story based on their bond.

we’d all freaking look at them like they were crazy

[iamnmbr3]

Harry: So I chose someone a little bit unusual to go to Slughorn's party with me but-

Ron: Oh no. Oh no. It's happening isn't it? It's actually happening.

Harry: What?

Ron: Is the person very blond?

Harry: Yes.

Ron: With silver eyes?

Harry: Yeah actually. How did you-

Ron: And do they idolize their father and repeat all of his crazy views as fact?

Harry: Yup! You've guessed it! Or did someone already tell you I'm going with- Ron? Are you alright?

Ron: I can't believe it. It happened. It actually happened. Hermione and I saw this coming but oh Merlin.

Harry: What's wrong with taking Luna?

Ron: Luna? .... Oh. Oh. LUNA. LUNA LOVEGOOD.

Harry: Obviously.

Ron: YOU'RE TAKING LUNA LOVEGOOD! THANK GOD!

Harry: ...Yes. Who did you think I meant?

Ron: Nevermind but wow you sure have a type huh?

[loz-tearsofahomo]

Sirius & Barty bored in azkaban

Sirius: bart

Barty Crouch Jr: ...

Sirius: pssst barty

Barty Crouch Jr: ...

Sirius: BARTEMIUS CROUCH JUNIO-

Barty Crouch Jr: WHAT.

Sirius: Truth or Dare

Barty Crouch Jr: cant bloody do dares in here can we?

Sirius: TRUTH or DARE

Barty Crouch Jr: only if I can ask first-

Sirius: no-

Barty Crouch Jr: yes-

Sirius: -fine

Barty Crouch Jr: Truth or Dare

Sirius *rolling his eyes*: truth

Barty Crouch Jr: did you and that lupin kid ever get round to fucking

Sirius: ...

Sirius: How the fuck did you know that-

Barty Crouch Jr: My gaydar never lies-

Sirius: your WHAT

Barty Crouch Jr: -the horny levels were through the roof-

Sirius: OKAYMYTURN

Barty Crouch Jr: -I mean really it was obvious

Sirius: are you fucking done now

Barty Crouch Jr: right, truth

Sirius: You didn't even let me ask

Barty Crouch Jr: This might surprise you pretty boy but I don't actually care.

Sirius: ugh whatever

Sirius: ...

Sirius: Who was Reg's most surprising kiss

Barty Crouch Jr: ooo hoo hoo

Sirius: what

Barty Crouch Jr: Oh get fucking ready for this, god Reg is gonna murder me from the grave

Sirius: well it couldn't have been that bad-

Barty Crouch Jr: It was potter.

Sirius: haha funny joke now cmon-

Barty Crouch Jr: I'm not joking.

Sirius: ...

Sirius: ...

Sirius *looking up* : JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER SO HELP ME GOD YOU ARE GETTING A FUCKINT BEATING IN HEAVEN OH MY-

Barty crouch jr *looking down* : Reggie please don't kill me

Sirius *still yelling at james from the grave* : ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, YOU GO AND DIE ON ME THEN NEXT I FIND OUT YOU KISSED MY PERFECTLY INNOCENT LITTLE BROTHER-

Barty Crouch Jr: I mean- he was a death eater not exactly innocent-

Sirius: oh shut up will you I'm having a bad day

Barty Crouch Jr: well what do you fucking expect this is azkaban

Sirius: doesn't mean you have the right to make it worse.

Barty Crouch Jr: well I mean he did betray the dark lord so there's that-

Sirius: WHAT

Barty Crouch Jr: well duh you didn't know

Sirius: WHAT DO YOU MEAN DUH OF COURSE I DIDNT KNOW

Barty Crouch Jr: fucking stupid gryffindor, yk i got twelve Os on my NEWTS

Sirius: NOBODY CARES!!! ALSO I'M HAVING A CRISIS RIGHT NOW

[bitui-n]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55248235/chapters/140140240

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry is at a Quidditch game, and he’s having a dreadful time. There should be some universal rule that negates this possibility. It’s Quidditch, he’s Harry – it’s the perfect pairing. He should be watching the Wimbourne Wasps crush the Ballycastle Bats and munching on some delightful treacle Sugar Sweeps while enjoying his first date in months.

Except they only have the licorice-flavoured Sugar Sweeps.

Except his team is losing horrendously.

Except his date – Jeanine, or Jeannie; something with a J – is more interested in flirting with anyone other than him. She’d tried to catch the eye of the unfairly attractive man sitting on Harry’s other side for a good twenty minutes. When she made no progress, her attention shifted to orchestrating a threesome with her friend and Draco. Rude.

(And no matter how far they’ve come from the bitter rivalry of their youth, Harry still hates to lose to Mal– Draco. He’d feel worse about that if the other man didn’t feel the exact same way – and if the prat looked less bloody smug.)

This is the last time he lets the blond convince him to go on a blind double-date. Merlin, what was he thinking when he agreed to this?

The Wasps call a timeout to discuss strategy (not that it’s likely to help at this point) and that’s when the worst of it happens. Some genius decided Quidditch needed a kiss cam for the slower moments of a match. If Harry ever finds out who, he’s going to hex their toes off.

That’s the thought that runs through his mind as he sees himself and Jacqueline on each of the floating screens bobbing around the Quidditch stadium.

His eyes slide helplessly to the side, where Jasmine is already inching away from him. This is so bloody embarrassing. He can feel his cheeks redden in mortification and is sure his deer-in-the-headlights expression will be immortalised in tomorrow’s Daily Prophet.

He sure wishes he had a time turner – he’d go back to this morning and stay in bed the whole day.

He can hear laughter breaking out from the other spectators the longer the camera lingers on him. Why haven’t they moved on to another pair? Or at the very least shifted three feet to the right; Harry’s certain Jolene and her friend or Draco (or hell, all three, why not) would be happy to give the viewers a show.

And then he feels a tap on his left shoulder. 

It’s not that he’d forgotten about the extremely hot man sitting to his left. But the reminder of the human perfection to his side while this debacle unfolds kind of makes him want to stand up and leave. Or blow something up.

He turns to Mr. Sex-on-Legs and smiles weakly. The man returns his smile, and while it’s a little sharp, it’s not mocking. Hurray for small mercies.

“May I?” Unreasonably Handsome Stranger asks.

“Uh,” Harry replies eloquently. May he what? Harry swiftly decides he doesn’t need more details. This man could be asking for his kidney and as long as it makes this whole situation less painful, Harry’s on board. “Sure…?”

Unreasonably Handsome Stranger tilts Harry’s face up and swoops in. Harry can’t stop the confused squeak from leaving him – so much for less shameful – and then he’s being kissed within an inch of his life. Holy shite.

This is awesome.

Harry kind of forgets why this man is kissing him and what’s going on around him, because it doesn’t matter. The most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in real life is pressing his lips against Harry’s with intent, with skill – is that his tongue? All higher brain functions have ceased in order to enjoy this moment to the fullest.

When they finally pull back for air, Harry finds his hands are gripping the man’s collar and holding him close. He figures that’s fine, considering the man has one hand wound through Harry’s hair and the other is still cupping his jaw.

“Wow,” Harry breathes, brain still taking a break from thinking. The other man smirks knowingly at him, and Harry would probably take offence to that if the man’s perfectly formed cheekbones weren’t flushed pink, showing he’s not as unaffected as he might pretend to be.

“Er. I’m Harry.”

“Tom.”

“Nice to meet you, Tom.”

This makes Smokin' Hot Tom chuckle, which in turn makes his eyes crinkle up adorably. Oh bother – Harry might be in trouble.

He’s aware, peripherally, that someone behind him is aggressively clearing their throat. He only bothers to care about it when Tom shoots an unimpressed look at the source of the noise.

When Harry turns to follow Tom’s gaze, he comes face to face with an irate Julienne, her glaring friend, and Draco, who can’t seem to decide whether he’s impressed or pissed off.

He shrugs, grinning dopily. “It just isn’t going to work out, Josephine.”

She gives him a baleful look. “My name is Petra.”

Whoops. Not even close. “Sorry – Petra. Have fun with Draco and …your friend.”

He sends a teasing salute to Draco and starts dragging Tom towards the exit. Speaking of having fun – he’s sure they can find an alcove somewhere around here to continue what Tom started.

—

Harry’s picture is indeed in the Prophet the next day. But he supposes that’s only to be expected when he’s caught publicly snogging the visiting ambassador from the French Ministry of Magic.

[uhhlifeig]

Gothic - October 18 - word count: 533 - @wolfstarmicrofic

It was a dark and stormy night, which was absolutely perfect for Sirius Black, self-proclaimed Lord of All Things Goth. 

He stood dramatically on the balcony of Potter Manor, his black cape billowing in the wind (which, incidentally, was being created by a very dedicated fan positioned just out of sight).

The skies were angry, much like Sirius felt every time Remus refused to acknowledge his superior knowledge. The audacity of the man to wear khakis during a thunderstorm.

Sirius narrowed his eyes into the raging abyss, letting out a deep and theatrical sigh. His eyeliner was on point tonight. Everything was perfect.

“Why are you on the balcony again?” came the weary voice of Remus from behind him. “And why are you wearing a- is that a towel?”

Sirius did not turn to acknowledge this blatant disrespect. No, instead, he clutched his cape tighter around his shoulders and whispered, “Because, Moony… it is my destiny to brood here. And no, this is a cape.”

Remus blinked at him. “Right,” he said slowly. “But you’re getting water all over the floor. It’s leaking in through the doorway.”

“Let it leak, Moony, for it is a metaphor. A metaphor for the soul’s inevitable decay, for the relentless seepage of despair into the hollow chambers of one’s very essence.”

Remus, dressed in a very un-goth, un-punk cardigan, crossed his arms. “It’s a metaphor for you not closing the bloody door.”

At that, Sirius finally turned, his hair somehow artfully damp and not at all like a drowned rat (he had so perfected this look). He raised a single eyebrow, the eyebrow of someone who understood suffering.

“Why must you be so mundane, Remus? You don’t understand the art of suffering. Of brooding. You, with your-” he gestured vaguely, “-knitted sweaters and warmth.”

Remus glanced down at his cardigan. “It’s cold.”

“That’s the point!” Sirius cried, sweeping dramatically into the room, wet cape swirling behind him like the shadow of a tormented soul. “You must embrace the cold. Let it chill your heart until only darkness remains. Then- then you’ll truly understand me.”

Remus sighed. “Sirius, I’m not going to freeze just because you think it’s ‘aesthetic.’”

Sirius gasped, scandalized. “Aesthetic? Aesthetic? This is not about aesthetics, Remus. This is about-” He paused. “This is about existential despair and mortality. About gazing into the void and having the void gaze back!”

Remus stared at him, unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Are we still on for dinner, or is this a night of ‘wallowing in the darkness of your own existence’?”

Sirius straightened his cape, once again adopting his perfectly gothic posture. “The darkness calls to me, Moony. It whispers of loss, of shadowed corridors and forgotten tombs.”

“The Italian place, then?” Remus asked.

Sirius faltered, torn between his duty to brood and his love of garlic bread.

Remus, ever the practical one, clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Lord of the Shadows. They’ve got wine.”

Sirius exhaled a long, suffering sigh, but his resolve crumbled at the thought of pasta. “Very well, but mark my words- tonight, I will dine... in despair.”

Remus rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket. “And I’ll order you extra breadsticks, as usual.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 5 - Folklore

@wolfstarmicrofic October 5, word count 227

Remus and Sirius had snuck out into muggle London. They’d promised to stay in Diagon Alley, but Sirius had twisted Remus’s arm and, anyway, Remus knew muggle London like the back of his hand. 

Sirius seemed a bit too interested in what a pair of muggle children were doing. They were taking exaggerated footsteps across the paving slabs that made up the footpath. 

“Come on,” Their father begged, trying to hurry them along. 

“We can’t!” The bigger one squealed right before the smaller one burst into tears. Their father sighed, gathered the crying child into his arms and took the other by the hand, leading them away.

“What was all that about?” Sirius asked. 

“A thing muggle children do. If you step on a crack, it’s supposed to break your mother's back. Obviously, there’s nothing…” He petered off as he watched Sirius begin to step on as many cracks as he could. “Sirius,” Remus chuckled as his boyfriend danced about in an odd jig. “It’s just a made-up thing that kids do. It doesn’t actually do anything.”

“Yes, Moony, but all muggle Folklore comes from our world, so I just have to find the right crack,” He beamed, jumping to the next crack. Remus shook his head but smiled fondly at the ridiculous boy and joined in, trying to find the crack that would break Walburga’s back. 

[babooshkart]

Draco slows at the perfect moment, gliding up the gentle slope behind the cottage, and then Ron’s running toward them, whooping, and the bike is safely out from under their feet. Harry gets his arms around Draco’s waist and gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, Ron’s arm brushing against him where it’s slung around Draco’s shoulders, and he knows just from how they move that Ron’s kissing his temple.

commission from @dodgerkedavra for their fic Bike Dream for @dronarryfest 2024 💕✨ This was a joy to work on (look at their happy faces!!!) and the fic is a real treat 🥹💕 y’all gotta go read and lay in bed to giggle and kick your feet ok

[winn-wynn]

Fuck it we ball here’s one of my fanfics I wrote years ago

This my ao3 account: wynniwirt

[hp-fanfic-archive]

How to Tame Your Boyfriend by duplicity (@duplicitywrites) Pairing: Harry/Tom Riddle Rating: T Word Count: 3k Harry has an overprotective, seven-foot-tall demon boyfriend named Tom who moonlights as a golden retriever. (translation available in 中文-普通话 國語)

[star4daisy]

writing snippet

thx for tagging me @214lilacsky here's a lil unedited snippet from the rosekiller sexuality crisis fic that I might post today heheh

Kissing had never felt like this before. Barty wasn’t sure if it was because it was a man or because it was Evan, but he knew he needed more. He needed to stand closer, pressing their bodies together until he could feel all of Evan against him, kissing him with so much passion he had to take a step back, Barty walked with him, trying to brand himself against his skin. He craved Evan's touch. Nothing he did felt like enough. Barty could have stripped them of their shirts in the middle of the party so he could feel Evan’s chest against his and still, they wouldn’t have been close enough to satisfy him. He feared nothing would. “Damn, they’re really going at it, aren't they?” Potter sounded surprised.

np tags: @fromagony @sanguineerose @jamespottersmixtape @curly-chip @sommerregenjuniluft @jaylienpotter @starchaser-lily @orchideous-nox

[devdevlin]

A brief (and inappropriate) retelling of Hermione's polyjuice incident.

DON'T ASK. I don't know where this came from, ok? Ok. My pregnancy brain is fried and apparently, I don't know what shame is anymore, so here you go, have an odd and uncalled for drabble. I'd say don't judge me... but tbh, I probably deserve it 🤷‍♀️

"Ahh!"

At the distant, high-pitched scream, Tom slowly lowered his newspaper.

There was a concerning stretch of silence, until a quiet shuffling from upstairs started; hurried, panicked footsteps, ones that told him he needn't get up. Whatever the problem was, it would undoubtedly come to him.

Tom resumed his reading.

Sure enough, not even five minutes later, and the footsteps gradually pattered their way down the stairs.

"...Tom?" he soon heard echoing in from the other room.

"...Yes?"

"Can you... I think I need your..."

Hermione, he knew, would rather eat her own pants than come to him for help, and so, properly intrigued, Tom folded his paper and put it aside. "What's wrong?"

There was another pause and some more shuffling from the doorway, before a quiet, "do you promise not to laugh?"

Tom laughed. "That will depend on what you're about to say."

"Tom!"

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Promise you won't laugh!"

"Fine, fine, I won't laugh," he promised, leaning forward eagerly in his chair. "Just come out. You're starting to worry me."

Another stretch of quiet. But then, right as Tom was about to get up and force her out—

Hermione stepped into the room.

Tom prided himself on his self-control. It was one of his best qualities, one that set him far apart from the rest of his peers, but even he wasn't above snorting at the sight of her.

She immediately turned and walked back out.

Tom, at a complete loss, covered his mouth and muffled his chortling as he got up and followed after her. "I'm sorry," he called out. "Wait, really— I'm sorry. It just wasn't what I was expecting, that's all."

He caught her in the kitchen, where she whirled back and glared at him. "You promised!"

"I did, I know. I'm sorry," he said, but he wasn't really. Because with a pair of ginger ears and a squashed nose, with her pants riding low enough on her hips for a long, bushy tail to poke out the top, she looked... hilariously...

Cute.

"Are you going to help me or not?!" she snapped, gesturing to herself.

Tom looked her down and up, taking her all in. Huh. She had claws, too. "How did this happen?"

"I... a little bit of polyjuice, is all. But I must've added the wrong hair..."

"It would seem so," he said. "Whatever were you playing with polyjuice for?"

"I... well... I just wanted to... surprise you," she admitted. "I know you don't like to celebrate, but I thought... it's your thirtieth. I had to do something, and I thought this might be a way to do it that you'd be okay with."

"You thought I'd like it if your gift... was yourself in the form of a cat?"

"No! No, not a cat..."

"Who were you supposed to be, then?" he asked suspiciously.

"...N-no one."

"Hermione."

"I..." she sighed, and then grudgingly muttered, "I was trying to turn myself into you."

This time, he tried—he really did—but his laugh couldn't be helped.

"Tom!"

"Sorry, sorry," he repeated, "I'm sorry. But, honestly, why would you—"

"I have another batch upstairs," she said, flushing. "Once I was you, I was going to come down and offer you the other batch, so that you could turn into me, and then... I thought we could... you know."

Slowly, as her words sunk in, Tom grinned a wide, involuntary grin. "Actually... now that you say that... I'm not quite sure I do know," he said, stepping towards her. "Why don't you tell me more?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "This is humiliating enough without you rubbing it in! You know what I mean!"

"Do I?"

Her ears flattened.

"Well..." he said, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing again as he closed further in. "As unfortunate as this all is... it doesn't all have to be for nought. Maybe we can still... make this work."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Just me... you..." He leaned into her and reached around to trail his hand along her thigh, until he reached the base of her tail at her waistband. He gently gripped the base. "...and your tail..."

He slipped his fingers down the length of it, over the silken, ginger fur, until she swatted him off.

"No! I— stop that!"

"Why?" he said. "It'll take hours to wear off. I can think of several good uses for all this until then."

"Absolutely not!" she snapped, pushing back from him. "Wh-what do you mean, good uses?"

"What do you think I mean?"

"I... I think that if you can't help me, then I'd rather not know about—ahh!"

As she'd turned to storm off, Tom took hold of her tail and pulled, hard enough that she stumbled back, her back colliding flush against his front.

"Something like this, I think," he murmured low in her ear, keeping his grip on her tail tight, holding her in place.

"Tom, that—ow, that hurts."

"Good."

She tugged to free herself, but Tom didn't let go, and twisted them to shove her forward, pinning her between himself and the counter.

"Ow, I mean it!" she hissed.

"So do I," he drawled, and now that he had her pinned, he took her tail in his other hand too, and sliding it up, right to the base, and stroking down its length firmly. "Tell me... what does it feel like?"

The tip of her tail twitched against his leg at his touch. "It's... ah, um," she squeaked. "Sensitive."

"Is it? Well, why don't we find out just how sensitive it is..."

"Tom—"

"Shh, shh," he shushed, slipping his fingers around the tail and down, down beneath the waistband of her pants to where the fur ended and the smooth patch of skin just below it started.

He felt it as she shivered and a tremor jolted up her spine, joined by a quiet, gentle—

"Oh," he breathed, "you can purr?"

"I... I didn't know... I didn't mean to..."

Tom laughed into her neck. She sounded mortified.

"It's all right," he told her, stroking even lower, brushing right against where the skin became silky and started to pucker. "I don't mind, but... now that you mention it, I do wonder how it'd feel if you purred with my dick in your—"

"Tom!"

"I'm just curious. It is my birthday, after all..."

[profoundmakerdreamerss-blog]

Is it just me or we barely have any tomarry heist au's??? Like, imagine them teaming up and breaking into places — Tom doing the planning/breaking in and Harry doing the stealing and making plans on his feet if they have any problems. Imagine, everyone is after them but no one knows who they are — and they are ALWAYS successful.

[keystonepublishing]

First Encounter by Lyris Malachi

I'm sure some of you have heard of the infinitely iconic My Immortal, the fanfic that was the talk of the Harry Potter fandom in it's heyday. But here's a secret for you:

There was another fanfic, also during My Immortal's rise in 2006, that was also infamously talked about - the Hogwarts x Giant Squid fic.

I am not joking.

First Encounter by Lyris Malachi was a fanfic from Fanfiction.net that got shared around pretty quickly because of it's ridiculous nature - the giant squid doing the naughty with Hogwarts school itself. While it wasn't the most cracky of Potterverse crackfics during the golden era of the fandom, boy was it notable to fans!

But over the years, the fanfic has faded from popular memory even within the Harry Potter fandom. For me, this will not stand. I did not scour through Fanfiction.net forums, Livejournal posts, and blog comments where people laughed at the subject matter, just for it to be forgotten!

So, I did it. Sixteen pages in total. If, by the worst case scenario, the Fanfiction.net archive collapses, I can hold this small bind high and proclaim that there was a fic from 2006 that was famous for it's premise - the Giant Squid of Hogwarts x the building of Hogwarts school itself!

[bitui-n]