The Day the Cow Rampaged
Title: The Day the Cow Rampaged
Rating: R
Genre: Humor/Parody
Summery: What if Were-cows were to exist, and what's more, what is Daphne Greengrass was to be bitten by one?
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Characters © Rowling.
Gift For: chaoskirin!
It was on a lovely afternoon in spring when Hagrid brought in cows for his Care of Magical Creatures class. They were the prettiest and most docile things, and everyone agreed that they were an improvement over the ‘orlicks’ that had been brought in last week, they also all agreed that they weren’t entirely sure what the common cow had to do with magical creatures but nobody was complaining. As they took turns petting and feeding the docile creatures treats from the palm of their hand, Lavender Brown giggled and patted hers affectionately on the nose.
“Aren’t you a sweet one?” The pretty blonde cooed, “And pretty to boot! We make a fine match don’t we?” She looked up with a smile sweet enough to rot teeth, her classmates laughed and nodded in agreement, all eyes were glued to her breasts that appeared to be bouncing quite nicely to the tune of ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. Well, except one set of eyes. Daphne glared hatefully at the cow Lavender had just been petting and doting upon. The cow, sensing the Slytherin’s rather bad vibes (it is a little known fact that cows are quite possibly the most karma sensitive creatures on the face of the earth) stomped on her foot and bit her left breast off. It was more painful to her ego than to her body (though this is debatable), mostly do to the fact that despite her screams of pain nobody so much as glanced at the girl who was positively spewing blood and when they noticed her at last nobody believed her breast had been bitten off.
“They looked the same size as ever,” said students who were later questioned about the incident. “Yeah, Greengrass has always been a bit small in that area, her boyfriend’s more racked than her!” Agreed onlookers who were waving signs reading ‘HI MOM!’ behind the students who had been questioned and had their pictures taken for the Daily Prophet.
That night as she laid awake in her bed, furiously casting glares at Clare who, despite Daphne’s sudden vulnerability and hurt ego had NOT come onto her once despite the fact that it was a well known fact that the tall and generally bad tempered girl’s hatred for the male sex made even Voldemort take a step back and say, “What about love and peace, man?”, an event that shocked his Death Eaters and later led to his being cast in several staring roles in various Bollywood films. Grunting and grumbling, the ever irritable Daphne swung herself off her bed and marched towards the window that for some reason existed in the Slytherin dungeons, her hooves making noises oddly similar to that of two coconuts being struck together. “Nice sound,” she said, thinking on the lovely clopping noise they made. She pause for a moment looking thoughful. “HOOVES?!” She shrieked. She stared in horror as her body began to rapidly mutate and change into something large, spotted and with a fine set of udders to rival Lavender Brown.
“HELP!” She shrieked, positively having a, pardon the pun, cow, “I’M TURNING INTO A WERECOW!!!” Clopping about the room on her hooves the Slytherin charged about raising a ruckus in an attempt to wake up her housemates.
“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Roared Pansy, flinging one of the folding chairs she kept under her bed for such occasions at Daphne.
It was a fine throw and the chair struck Daphne squarely in the head and knocking her to the floor. This, however, did not deter the werecow from shrieking from her new position on the floor, a trickle of blood pouring out from her forehead. “BUT I’M SERIOUS THIS TIME!! I’M REALLY TURNING INTO A WERECOW! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DOOOOOOO?!” She broke into a series of loud and rather messy sounding sobs that sounded oddly similar to the noise Millicent’s cat made when vomiting.
“Remind me to wear my slippers in the morning,” grumbled Millicent, pulling her pillows over her ears and drifting back to sleep.
“Daphne?” Came a voice to Daphne’s left, she turned to see the face of Clare looking down on her in apparent concern.
With a large bubble of snot form out of her now large and hairy nose, she let out a strangled sob. “Oh Clare! You’ve finally tried to seduce me in my moment of need! But you mustn’t! You know Michael is still al-OW! WHAT THE ASS?!” This last bit was caused by the fact that Clare had picked up the folding chair and smacked the blubbering werecow with it. “LOOK! I’VE CAUGHT YOU LOOKING AT ME IN THE SHOWER-OW! STOP IT! YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SO SH-DAMMIT WOMAN! JUST ADMIT YOUR LESB-AAAAAAGH! I’M BLIND! I’M BLIND!”
“Daphne,” came Clare’s voice again, followed by the clatter of the chair being dropped, her voice oddly warm for the usually icy Slytherin.
“Yes, Clare?” Was Daphne’s teary and tender response.
A suspenseful moment of silence passed between the two girls, broken by Clare grabbing the front of her collar roughly, and bringing her face so close to the other girl’s. “Get the hell out, Pansy is quieter when she brings Grawp in for late night toe humping.”
“Damn straight!” Came Pansy’s triumphant cry from behind the curtains of her bed.
And with that said, Clare dragged her friend the werecow out the door and kicked her down the stairs of the girl’s dormitory and sent her flying out of the Slytherin dungeons with a flick of her wand.
Daphne went flying and struck a wall outside the Slytherin dungeons, sliding down slowly before finally falling to the floor with a splat. Confused, frightened and overcome with the urge to graze Daphne struggled to her hooves and wondered what she ought to do next. There really wasn’t much for a werecow such as herself to do, so she made a note to send a formal complaint to Dumbledore about Hogwarts being discriminatory against her newly acquired species and decided that when life gives you a fine set of udders you ought to make your worst enemy feel inadequate about their own assets. With that in mind she trotted off to the Gryffindor tower, a place she had never actually been to, but due to a strange coincidence she managed to find it not only in a timely manner but she also discovered a clever shortcut that not even the Weasly twins had managed to find.
The portrait of the Fat Lady tried to refuse her admittance, but Daphne put up a good argument (“I’M A WERECOW, DAMN YOU. I HAVE UDDERS!”) and was allowed into the commons with very little fuss. Once inside she stormed up the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitories and into the room where Lavender Brown and her fetching assets were resting. With hooves clacking against the ground, she angrily pulled back the curtains to every bed, all of which were strangely empty, before at last discovering one that help not only Lavender but Parvati, Hermione, Ginny and even Luna Lovegood were resting in, all five girls were snuggling up with one another in positions that would make even Anthony Goldstein blush.
“HAVING AN ORGY WITHOUT ME, I SEE!” Bellowed the werecow to the sleeping girls.
Cracking an eye open groggily, Ginny glanced to Daphne, frowned and moved out from underneath Hermione and weaved between Luna’s legs to reach Lavender and gently shake the blonde into waking. “Lavender, it’s that Greengrass girl you hate so much. Only... Only I think she’s got udders, spots and hooves now. I’m not sure. Parvati, did she always look like that?”
“No,” said Parvati, who was pushing herself up into a sitting position and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, “She never had such a fine set of udders before.”
“Who has fine udders now?” Asked Lavender who was now sitting up behind her best friend and massaging her shoulders while whispering what are to be assumed sweet nothings into Parvati’s ear.
“I DO!” Bellowed Daphne the Angry Werecow, “Look! It’s me! Daphne Greengrass and I’ve come to torment Lavender Brown by showing off a set of udders so fine that not even her assets can rival them!” Lavender paled and looked positively horrified. She looked to Hermione as if hoping that the clever girl would be able to deny it.
But the bushy haired girl leaned forward to examine the udders that were shaking sensuously due to Daphne deeming the moment fine for shimmying. She shrugged and looked at the blonde apologetically, “She’s right, Lavender. I’ve never seen udders quite as fetching as that before and believe me, I’ve seen a lot of udder in my time at Hogwarts.”
“BUT--! HOW--! WHY--?!” Spluttered Lavender, much to Daphne’s immense satisfaction. “THAT’S NOT FAIR!” She suddenly burst out into tears and was immediately enclosed in four sets of arms, the other girls trying desperately the comfort the girl with the second best assets in Hogwarts.
“I think it’s time you leave,” said Ginny angrily as she attempted to push Luna, who was apparently trying to lick Lavender, away with her feet.
“But I haven’t properly tormented her yet!” Whined Daphne, stamping her hoof to the ground in a fit pure bovine rage, “I refuse to leave until I’ve terrorized her to my satisfaction.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at the girls.
Parvati sighed and rolled her eyes, hugging her friend’s head to her chest, “Don’t you terrorize her enough everyday without being a werecow? I mean, really, just yesterday you followed her all day pelting her with bits of cheese and shrieking about hair dye.”
“Didn’t you try to sneak in here last week to cut her hair off?” Inquired a dreamy looking Luna who was still attempting to lick Lavender despite having Ginny’s foot pressed up against her face to hold her back.
“That’s right, Daphne. You torment her every day quite nicely without your udders, spots and hooves, do you really need to torment her with them?” Asked Hermione who looked remarkably sensible despite sitting on a bed with four other girls in various positions bad enough to make Anthony Goldstein blush.
Daphne huffed and placed her hands on her wide, spotted hips. She glared at the girls, saying in a rather annoyed voice, “Well if you put it THAT way you just manage to make ME look like the bad guy here, don’t you?!”
“Well, you are trying to-”
“Shut up, Lovegood. Look, I said this before and I’ll say it again, but I’m not leaving here until that scunt, yes, SCUNT is properly tormented (BY ME), terrorized (ALSO BY ME) and pillaged (BY ME AND PERHAPS A FEW VIKINGS BUT WE’LL SEE). Because it’s all her fault that I’m now spotted with hooves and a rather nice set of udders! No, don’t bother asking me how it’s her fault, because it’s a long, tragic and extremely violent story and there are under aged little witches in the room and I won’t say anything of the sort with them around regardless of whether or not they are participating in acts that they really ought not be despite being so purposely vaguely described! Hey...! Are you listening to me?! HEY! MOOOOO! SCUNT AND FRIENDS!”
However, Daphne’s rather long and boring speech had lulled the girls to sleep once again and no amount of bovine noises and stampeding appeared to be able to wake them. Her hopes for terrorizing Lavender were thrown out the window in a manner similar to when Draco had flung her out for suggesting he use a little less grease in his hair when styling it. Stamping out of the Gryffindor Tower, the werecow glared about and muttered, “Well what now?” Before being simultaneously struck rather violently with a folding chair that appeared out of nowhere it seemed and an idea.
“I know! I think I’ll pay Michael a visit!”
THE END (maybe).
Rating: R
Genre: Humor/Parody
Summery: What if Were-cows were to exist, and what's more, what is Daphne Greengrass was to be bitten by one?
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: Characters © Rowling.
Gift For: chaoskirin!
It was on a lovely afternoon in spring when Hagrid brought in cows for his Care of Magical Creatures class. They were the prettiest and most docile things, and everyone agreed that they were an improvement over the ‘orlicks’ that had been brought in last week, they also all agreed that they weren’t entirely sure what the common cow had to do with magical creatures but nobody was complaining. As they took turns petting and feeding the docile creatures treats from the palm of their hand, Lavender Brown giggled and patted hers affectionately on the nose.
“Aren’t you a sweet one?” The pretty blonde cooed, “And pretty to boot! We make a fine match don’t we?” She looked up with a smile sweet enough to rot teeth, her classmates laughed and nodded in agreement, all eyes were glued to her breasts that appeared to be bouncing quite nicely to the tune of ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. Well, except one set of eyes. Daphne glared hatefully at the cow Lavender had just been petting and doting upon. The cow, sensing the Slytherin’s rather bad vibes (it is a little known fact that cows are quite possibly the most karma sensitive creatures on the face of the earth) stomped on her foot and bit her left breast off. It was more painful to her ego than to her body (though this is debatable), mostly do to the fact that despite her screams of pain nobody so much as glanced at the girl who was positively spewing blood and when they noticed her at last nobody believed her breast had been bitten off.
“They looked the same size as ever,” said students who were later questioned about the incident. “Yeah, Greengrass has always been a bit small in that area, her boyfriend’s more racked than her!” Agreed onlookers who were waving signs reading ‘HI MOM!’ behind the students who had been questioned and had their pictures taken for the Daily Prophet.
That night as she laid awake in her bed, furiously casting glares at Clare who, despite Daphne’s sudden vulnerability and hurt ego had NOT come onto her once despite the fact that it was a well known fact that the tall and generally bad tempered girl’s hatred for the male sex made even Voldemort take a step back and say, “What about love and peace, man?”, an event that shocked his Death Eaters and later led to his being cast in several staring roles in various Bollywood films. Grunting and grumbling, the ever irritable Daphne swung herself off her bed and marched towards the window that for some reason existed in the Slytherin dungeons, her hooves making noises oddly similar to that of two coconuts being struck together. “Nice sound,” she said, thinking on the lovely clopping noise they made. She pause for a moment looking thoughful. “HOOVES?!” She shrieked. She stared in horror as her body began to rapidly mutate and change into something large, spotted and with a fine set of udders to rival Lavender Brown.
“HELP!” She shrieked, positively having a, pardon the pun, cow, “I’M TURNING INTO A WERECOW!!!” Clopping about the room on her hooves the Slytherin charged about raising a ruckus in an attempt to wake up her housemates.
“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Roared Pansy, flinging one of the folding chairs she kept under her bed for such occasions at Daphne.
It was a fine throw and the chair struck Daphne squarely in the head and knocking her to the floor. This, however, did not deter the werecow from shrieking from her new position on the floor, a trickle of blood pouring out from her forehead. “BUT I’M SERIOUS THIS TIME!! I’M REALLY TURNING INTO A WERECOW! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DOOOOOOO?!” She broke into a series of loud and rather messy sounding sobs that sounded oddly similar to the noise Millicent’s cat made when vomiting.
“Remind me to wear my slippers in the morning,” grumbled Millicent, pulling her pillows over her ears and drifting back to sleep.
“Daphne?” Came a voice to Daphne’s left, she turned to see the face of Clare looking down on her in apparent concern.
With a large bubble of snot form out of her now large and hairy nose, she let out a strangled sob. “Oh Clare! You’ve finally tried to seduce me in my moment of need! But you mustn’t! You know Michael is still al-OW! WHAT THE ASS?!” This last bit was caused by the fact that Clare had picked up the folding chair and smacked the blubbering werecow with it. “LOOK! I’VE CAUGHT YOU LOOKING AT ME IN THE SHOWER-OW! STOP IT! YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SO SH-DAMMIT WOMAN! JUST ADMIT YOUR LESB-AAAAAAGH! I’M BLIND! I’M BLIND!”
“Daphne,” came Clare’s voice again, followed by the clatter of the chair being dropped, her voice oddly warm for the usually icy Slytherin.
“Yes, Clare?” Was Daphne’s teary and tender response.
A suspenseful moment of silence passed between the two girls, broken by Clare grabbing the front of her collar roughly, and bringing her face so close to the other girl’s. “Get the hell out, Pansy is quieter when she brings Grawp in for late night toe humping.”
“Damn straight!” Came Pansy’s triumphant cry from behind the curtains of her bed.
And with that said, Clare dragged her friend the werecow out the door and kicked her down the stairs of the girl’s dormitory and sent her flying out of the Slytherin dungeons with a flick of her wand.
Daphne went flying and struck a wall outside the Slytherin dungeons, sliding down slowly before finally falling to the floor with a splat. Confused, frightened and overcome with the urge to graze Daphne struggled to her hooves and wondered what she ought to do next. There really wasn’t much for a werecow such as herself to do, so she made a note to send a formal complaint to Dumbledore about Hogwarts being discriminatory against her newly acquired species and decided that when life gives you a fine set of udders you ought to make your worst enemy feel inadequate about their own assets. With that in mind she trotted off to the Gryffindor tower, a place she had never actually been to, but due to a strange coincidence she managed to find it not only in a timely manner but she also discovered a clever shortcut that not even the Weasly twins had managed to find.
The portrait of the Fat Lady tried to refuse her admittance, but Daphne put up a good argument (“I’M A WERECOW, DAMN YOU. I HAVE UDDERS!”) and was allowed into the commons with very little fuss. Once inside she stormed up the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitories and into the room where Lavender Brown and her fetching assets were resting. With hooves clacking against the ground, she angrily pulled back the curtains to every bed, all of which were strangely empty, before at last discovering one that help not only Lavender but Parvati, Hermione, Ginny and even Luna Lovegood were resting in, all five girls were snuggling up with one another in positions that would make even Anthony Goldstein blush.
“HAVING AN ORGY WITHOUT ME, I SEE!” Bellowed the werecow to the sleeping girls.
Cracking an eye open groggily, Ginny glanced to Daphne, frowned and moved out from underneath Hermione and weaved between Luna’s legs to reach Lavender and gently shake the blonde into waking. “Lavender, it’s that Greengrass girl you hate so much. Only... Only I think she’s got udders, spots and hooves now. I’m not sure. Parvati, did she always look like that?”
“No,” said Parvati, who was pushing herself up into a sitting position and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, “She never had such a fine set of udders before.”
“Who has fine udders now?” Asked Lavender who was now sitting up behind her best friend and massaging her shoulders while whispering what are to be assumed sweet nothings into Parvati’s ear.
“I DO!” Bellowed Daphne the Angry Werecow, “Look! It’s me! Daphne Greengrass and I’ve come to torment Lavender Brown by showing off a set of udders so fine that not even her assets can rival them!” Lavender paled and looked positively horrified. She looked to Hermione as if hoping that the clever girl would be able to deny it.
But the bushy haired girl leaned forward to examine the udders that were shaking sensuously due to Daphne deeming the moment fine for shimmying. She shrugged and looked at the blonde apologetically, “She’s right, Lavender. I’ve never seen udders quite as fetching as that before and believe me, I’ve seen a lot of udder in my time at Hogwarts.”
“BUT--! HOW--! WHY--?!” Spluttered Lavender, much to Daphne’s immense satisfaction. “THAT’S NOT FAIR!” She suddenly burst out into tears and was immediately enclosed in four sets of arms, the other girls trying desperately the comfort the girl with the second best assets in Hogwarts.
“I think it’s time you leave,” said Ginny angrily as she attempted to push Luna, who was apparently trying to lick Lavender, away with her feet.
“But I haven’t properly tormented her yet!” Whined Daphne, stamping her hoof to the ground in a fit pure bovine rage, “I refuse to leave until I’ve terrorized her to my satisfaction.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at the girls.
Parvati sighed and rolled her eyes, hugging her friend’s head to her chest, “Don’t you terrorize her enough everyday without being a werecow? I mean, really, just yesterday you followed her all day pelting her with bits of cheese and shrieking about hair dye.”
“Didn’t you try to sneak in here last week to cut her hair off?” Inquired a dreamy looking Luna who was still attempting to lick Lavender despite having Ginny’s foot pressed up against her face to hold her back.
“That’s right, Daphne. You torment her every day quite nicely without your udders, spots and hooves, do you really need to torment her with them?” Asked Hermione who looked remarkably sensible despite sitting on a bed with four other girls in various positions bad enough to make Anthony Goldstein blush.
Daphne huffed and placed her hands on her wide, spotted hips. She glared at the girls, saying in a rather annoyed voice, “Well if you put it THAT way you just manage to make ME look like the bad guy here, don’t you?!”
“Well, you are trying to-”
“Shut up, Lovegood. Look, I said this before and I’ll say it again, but I’m not leaving here until that scunt, yes, SCUNT is properly tormented (BY ME), terrorized (ALSO BY ME) and pillaged (BY ME AND PERHAPS A FEW VIKINGS BUT WE’LL SEE). Because it’s all her fault that I’m now spotted with hooves and a rather nice set of udders! No, don’t bother asking me how it’s her fault, because it’s a long, tragic and extremely violent story and there are under aged little witches in the room and I won’t say anything of the sort with them around regardless of whether or not they are participating in acts that they really ought not be despite being so purposely vaguely described! Hey...! Are you listening to me?! HEY! MOOOOO! SCUNT AND FRIENDS!”
However, Daphne’s rather long and boring speech had lulled the girls to sleep once again and no amount of bovine noises and stampeding appeared to be able to wake them. Her hopes for terrorizing Lavender were thrown out the window in a manner similar to when Draco had flung her out for suggesting he use a little less grease in his hair when styling it. Stamping out of the Gryffindor Tower, the werecow glared about and muttered, “Well what now?” Before being simultaneously struck rather violently with a folding chair that appeared out of nowhere it seemed and an idea.
“I know! I think I’ll pay Michael a visit!”
THE END (maybe).