3. Heartlessness Destroyed by Dhampire Hunter
Is it possible for Severus Snape to have a heart? Duh! Severitus. Slightly better summery inside Slytherin!Harry Vampire!Harry
Harry Potter - Rated: T - English - Horror/Supernatural - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1,065 - Published: 9-12-09 - Harry P. & Severus S
Ignoring the Slytherin!Harry.

"Ugh! I can't believe he gave you detention for that, Harry!"

Harry grimaced and made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, but the rest of his speech was cut off as Hermione came up behind them.

"Really, you can't, Ron? You can't believe Professor Snape gave Harry a detention for putting slices of frog liver on his seat when he wasn't looking? Because it seems pretty believable to me."

"He was asking for it," muttered Harry. "Sometimes I wish there was something I could do to really get back at him for what he's done. It's all his fault anyway, he practically encouraged Malfoy to throw that vampire blood at me."

The three winced at the recollection, when Snape had turned his back and Harry had gotten a few swallows of vampire blood in his mouth. The incident had left him sparkling in the sunlight forevermore with a pale complexion and a craving for blood, which he now drank a glass of every night before bed, usually the blood of an orangutan. Dumbledore maintained that it hadn't been Snape's fault, and Malfoy had suffered for quite some time, but for Harry and Ron, despite Hermione's halfhearted protests, something was wrong with the whole picture.

Ron held the Great Hall door open as they entered. "Yeah, sometimes I wonder if he's even got a heart at all."

Harry didn't miss the Look from Professor McGonagall in his direction as Snape leaned over to tell her something, the usual sneer on his face. He grimaced again and forced down the rest of his lunch, dreading the detention to come. The rest of the day passed in a blur, and he trudged down to the Potions Dungeon with a heavy heart that night.

"Mr. Potter," came the sneering voice from the dungeon. "Please be so kind as to shut the door behind you."

Harry stepped in, closing the door carefully behind him. "Yes, Professor."

"Due to the nature of your... prank," he said, pronouncing the word as though it was a kind of toad, "You will be removing the livers from enough frogs to get my sixth-year advanced class through next year."

Harry had no idea how the next words made their way to his mouth, without bothering to check with his brain first. "Ron's right, you have no heart."

Snape blinked, so taken aback, for the moment, that he had no response ready to hand. Then he cracked an amused expression, which might've been a smile, had it not also spelled D-O-O-M in neon flashing letters to Harry.

"Potter, you swallowed vampire blood last year." Harry tried to keep from looking blank, but only succeeded in looking blankly terrified. Snape sighed. "You really are your father's son."

Well-chosen words, the usual barb jostled Harry from his mental state and he glared. "My father, sir, was--"

"About as subtle as a brick wall," Snape drawled. "You're a vampire, which means that you can see body heat. Which means you can see that I have a heart, and, furthermore, that it is beating."

Harry blinked, and, curious, allowed his eyes to relax. Very, very faintly, his eyes located thermal images, proving that Snape indeed have a heart. He opened his mouth, but was cut off again.

"But thank you for the compliment, Potter. Which reminds me, why don't you also remove the hearts from those frogs and pickle them? Should keep you out of... trouble, for a few hours." The malicious sneer made it perfectly clear that there would be no Quidditch practice, and furthermore that this was part of the plan. Harry sighed and got to work on the frogs. Life as usual, he supposed.

3. Heartlessness Destroyed by Dhampire Hunter
Is it possible for Severus Snape to have a heart? Duh! Severitus. Slightly better summery inside Slytherin!Harry Vampire!Harry

Meir Brin of the Hogwarts Fanfiction Academy shook her head sadly. "There's no doubt about it," she told the assembled staff. "Madam Pomfrey says it's as bad a case of Severitus as she's ever seen."

"So, he's just going to keep doing that?" said Professor McGonagall. "Sort of... splintering like that?"

"Until the disease runs out of non-canon versions of Harry Potter to sever off him. Or until Professor Snape can brew the cure," Brin amended almost as an afterthought.

Harry Potter lay on a medical bed before them, looking pale, but fortunately sedated. Before their eyes, he grew filmy and indistinct, like a snake's skin just before molting. Then, as though someone had taken a knife and pared off an extra layer, a second Harry separated itself from the first and came to stand at the foot of the bed. This new Harry was almost the same as the first except for the Slytherin crest on his robes and the look of deep angst and woe on his face. He opened his mouth as though to bemoan his existence, but he was clouted soundly on the head first. He crumpled to the ground, revealing Madam Pomfrey and a very large case of medical supplies.

Pomfrey shrugged. "It's better for the patient this way."

The staff shook off their surprise and moved the new Harry to a bed of its own. At that time, Severus Snape appeared.

"How is it going, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape scowled. "The same as before, Headmaster. It won't work unless I can have a heart." He eyed Harry speculatively.

"Yes, it is a shame we had to destroy the last one," Dumbledore said, casting a look of regret toward a bed with a sheet thrown over it. The sheet didn't quite disguise the fact that the body beneath had a rather large stake through its chest. "But perhaps this new one will be of more use."

"We shall see," said Madam Pomfrey. "I'll ask you all to please keep back, this is a very sensitive matter."

The staff gave Pomfrey her space, as none of them really wanted to see what was about to happen. There came a sound awfully like splorch, and a smell of freshly cut grass and warm dust filled the room.

"Summery," Meir Brin commented. "Weird."

The others nodded.

A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the screened-off bed and held out a porcelain bowl to Snape. "There you are," she said. "One heart."

"Good," said Snape, though not as enthusiastically as he might have had the organ in question come from the original and not a copy. "The potion should be ready by the end of the day." He took the bowl containing the heart and returned swiftly to the dungeons and his potion.

Warning: slightly, er, noncon. Although utterly non-explicit, because we realised halfway through writing this that we don't actually know how to write het. We have taken the liberty of assuming the author of the fic summary is a Sue, and inserted her into this fic. Enjoy, or something.

***

'Like, here kitty kitty?'

Hissing softly, Greebo shrank further back into the dark recesses of his latest hidey-hole. The creature, whatever it was, surely wouldn't find him here. He flicked his tail, annoyed, as he heard the soft footsteps getting closer.

'Mister kitty cat, won't you come and play?'

Even the voice was unnatural, smooth and yet tinkly and making all the hairs down Greebo's spine stand on end. And that was to say nothing of how the thing looked...

'Gotcha!'

Suddenly there was light.

Greebo skittered out from his den of discarded wooden crates, and made a break for it through the impossibly slender and slightly sparkly legs in front of him. A perfectly manicured hand shot out, and missed him by a whisker. He skidded round the corner at high speed.

And stopped. Ahead was a blank wall, too high to leap. Behind, and rapidly approaching, was a beast straight from the Dungeon Dimensions. It gave a feral smile as it advanced.

There was only one possible escape, and Greebo took it.

There was a horrible moment where morphic resonance twanged like a piano-string, and then he was lurching to two flat, clawless feet.

The terrible beast was now at least a head shorter than him. Greebo grinned. He liked having the advantage. He wasn't well equipped, in this form, to bite the back of the creature's neck and shake it until bits snapped, but these strong human arms ought to be good for something. He reached out, and seized the thing with one hand.

'Mroooowl?'

'Erk!'

Mrrrroww!'

It struggled in his grasp, but something still wasn't right. Like any self-respecting cat, Greebo was in the habit of playing with his prey before eating it, though he was willing to concede that tossing it into the air and catching it might be a little difficult without paws. He'd been quite willing to give it a try just a moment before, but as his fingers tightened round its throat, he found himself overcome with an urge, or, more accurately, an Urge, to play with it in a slightly different manner.

He sniffed. Ah, there was the reason. The Beast had, it seemed, been party to similar Urges. Had being the operative word here. Now it seemed mostly to be harbouring fear. But Greebo was rather sensitive to smells, and both were lingering.

Well that was fine. Greebo rather liked fear. And Urges too.

He also liked the way this human form wasn't lumbered with clothes when Nanny wasn't about. It made things so much easier, not having to try to handle buttons. This meant that he was rather exposed, of course, but the fiend didn't seem to have any idea at all about not playing fair, and kept its knees resolutely down. And pressed tightly together.

He looked down.

Ah.

Yes, definitely Urges. The sparkling, whimpering creature followed Greebo's gaze, and gulped.

We will draw a delicate veil over the story at this point, and reconvene several months later ...

'Oh, Greebo, you naughty boy!'

'Naughty doesn't really cover it, Gytha,' said Granny Weatherwax, looking down at the sad, mewling heap on Nanny Ogg's doorstep.

'I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, really,' Nanny said, clucking. Granny sniffed.

'And why are they so glittery, d'you think?'

'Search me,' said Nanny, picking one of the strange kittens up and inspecting it closely. 'But don't you think they've got his eyes?'

'So long as they haven't got his temperament.' Granny sniffed once more, then peered at the dangling scrap of sparkling fluff in Nanny's hand. 'Well,' she added. 'They've definitely got his smell.'

'Oosa widdle sweetie den?' asked Nanny of the kitten. Granny rolled her eyes.

'Widdle sounds about right,' she said.

Barnabus tried to blink as the message ended. The tasoth had received many strange instructions over the millennium, ranging from a giant jellyfish with poison replaced with weapons it could not use to a T-Rex with a sonic cannon, but an underwater cat was particularly strange. Still, when commands came from T'leth, he obeyed.

Barnabus picked one of the lobstermen on the base at random to help with the design. After a few hours, the design seemed mostly complete, but something seemed off. The half-inch thick aqua plastic armor was somehow un-catlike. When he asked the lobsterman about it, the lobsterman said, "Yes, but it may run into X-com troops."

"Oh. Okay then, the armor is fine. Actually, give it more armor."

Something seemed vaguely off about the cluster of facial tentacles, but Barnabus decided it was good enough and sent the design to the cloning vats.

To make a cat, you must first make a deuterostome.
Take an ovocyte, make it divide for a certain number of times, until you get a hollow sphere called a blastula.
Then, fold one half of the blastula inside the other and stretch it somewhat (the exact way depends on species). You'll obtain a gastrula, with a hole at one end which will become the anus. The ectoderm (outer layer), mesoderm (filling the former hole of the blastula) and endoderm (inner layer) are formed at this step. You have now a deuterostome.
Then, you'll have to get a chordate.
Development continues with neurulation: the neural tube is formed by folding the dorsal ectoderm along the notochord (structure existing in all chordate embryos, but which persists in only a few chordate species). Then, somites (corresponding to future vertebrae) form, one after the other. You have a chordate.
With a chordate, you then make a vertebrate, a gnathostome (jawed vertebrate, jaws form from branchial arcs), an osteichthyan (the name means bony fish, as opposed to cartilagenous fish (chondrichthyan), but it also includes tetrapods as well). Than you get a tetrapod, by forming the limbs. The tetrapod becomes then a mammal and then a cat.
Let the cat grow for a while, and you're done.

Well, in fact, it's a bit more complicated, but that's a rough outline.

What a brilliant idea! I'll have to take a pass for this round, I've been sporking a Harry Potter/Twilight fic that has kind of drained my brain. I still love the idea though!

"I must make a cat," said Dr. Frankenstein. "Igor, bring me my spare parts kit."

"Yeth, mathter," said Igor as he wandered off in search of the spare parts kit he had to find.

"And I need a lantern, as well!" Frankenstein shouted at his servant's back.

Several hours later, Igor returned with a large box and a battery power lantern. "I have returned, mathter"

"Excellent. place the kit on the table, please. and hand me the lantern." said the doctor.

several more hours elapsed, and the good doctor looked at his creation. it looked like a cat, but each of its limbs had differently coloured fur, and a small lantern next to its left eye. "excellent. now we need a thunderstorm." He attached several wires to the cat, and then to a large electrical cable. "or, of course, we could simply use the town's power grid." and he flipped the switch. and the world went black.


*how's that?*

Must it be within the fandom originally used? Because if not, I can already think of something (still fanfic, but in a different fandom) to do with the last one.

If not, well, I'll try something else.

1. The Road to Lothlorien by KounetsuDeb
With orcs behind them and the maze of forests ahead of them, the fellowship could use a guide. Luckly Haldir is there to guide their way, unless he's too distracted by the green-eyed wizard among them. boyboy implied.

Boromir shook his head. "Orcs behind, the Witch of Lothlorien ahead... we could use a guide, Aragorn."

Aragorn looked uncomfortable. "I am myself uncertain what course to take," he said. "The last time I was here... it wasn't quite so, well..."

"Maze-like?" Gimli suggested. "For all Elves are strange creatures, I wouldn't expect them to sculpt their whole forest into a labyrinth. Crazy lot."

Ahead, Legolas stiffened. "You speak of the Lady of the Golden Wood," he reprimanded the dwarf. "Show a little respect."

"I have to agree with Gimli," Boromir put in. "The maze is a bit much."

Suddenly a voice called out from the single tree they were passing. Legolas smirked, and Aragorn let out a chuckle. "What?" Gimli demanded. "What did he say? I know Elvish speech when I hear it."

It was Frodo who answered. "I make it 'We may be crazy, but at least we're not lost,'" he said.

Gimli scowled at the tree. "Come down here and say that, Elf," he snapped. "My axe will-"

"Be useless, I rather suspect," Aragorn interrupted. "I recognise your voice, Haldir of the Galadhrim. Come down and make our acquaintance."

"What need have I of acquaintance, when I already know who you are?" Haldir said, dropping lightly to the floor. "Nine left Rivendell, and nine have come... uh." He stopped, blinked, and stared at the ninth member of the party. "Who is that, and why is he glaring at me?"

Aragorn glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, him. We found him in Hollin -- it was very strange. Mithrandir called him a wizard, but he doesn't seem to speak Westron."

"Or Sindarin, or Quenya, or Rohirric, or Adunaic, or the Black Speech," Sam muttered. "Or Telerin, Silvan, any of the tongues of the Avari-"

"Yes, thank you, Samwise," Aragorn cut him off. "He seems to be rather jealous of Elves in general, though -- practically green-eyed with envy."

"Does he have a name?" Haldir asked, still watching the 'wizard' cautiously. Merry sniggered.

"We don't know," the Hobbit said. "We just call him Boybo-"

"Haldir," Aragorn cut in, trying to get the border guard's attention. "Can you please help us make sense of this maze?"

"... what? Oh. Right." The elf shook his head and turned back to the Ranger. "You're too far from Caras Galadhon to get there tonight, so if you'll come with me, there's some flets you can rest on..."