Ooh...HP badficness.

Ok, we decided to get our 3v1l on by grading a badfic. Prepare thyself. GIRD THY LOINS!

Life of an Assassin
by P0cketmouse
can be read in its entirety here, though not really because it's not complete. we still felt compelled to grade it.

J: Ok. It's FICBURNINGTIME.
J: ...can't touch this.
J: It's a HP fic. Life of an Assassin.

K: Ooo. Sounds dramatic.

J: BUMBUBMBUMBBMBBMBMBMBalgksd;fnksadf

K: ...

J: I'm just going to copypaste the fic now.

K: okies.

Disclaimer: All the characters and Harry Potter are J.K Rowling's and not mine


Chapter 1


There was a flash of green light. A woman screamed. Her black curls tumbled around her face, golden eyes wide as she looked down at her husband. Then another flash of light and she too, crumpled to the ground- dead. A black hooded figure came closer, closer…


Pasha Mayes woke up with a gasp. Cold sweat trickled down her back, chilling her. She shivered. She hated those dreams. They made her feel weak and vulnerable. She hated being weak. Her golden, catlike eyes surveyed her room. No better than a dungeon, she thought to herself. The cold stonewalls pressed close around her like a cell. Cobwebs and dust gathered in corners. The sunrays trickling in through the small window told her that it was morning.

K: So...it begins: Pasha is a plot-theif.
K: Thief.
K: WTF?!


J: MY PLOT. NOT YOURS.


K: Took: #1, The waking from Voldemort-killing parents thing, #2, inheriting-mother's-eyes thing, #3, living-in-crappy-room thing. Argh.


J: typical mary-sue behavior.


K: *supresses rising nausea*


J: "I want to not only rape Harry but BE him."
J: mmmm. narcissism.


K: rape...self...
K: yes.
K: um.

Pasha heaved herself out of bed, her muscles aching from yesterdays training. She slipped into some warmer robes and went on to comb her hair. Brushing her hair always relaxed her. She didn't know why but there was just something comforting about the way the comb skimmed through her hair, caressing her black locks. There was a knock on the rotting wooden door.

J: Actually, the writing itself is not bad.
J: Maybe we should PPC it instead.


K: ...Even has black hair?!....


J: Curly black hair.
J: I know.


K: (wtf?!)

J: Greed: OMFG.


K: arg arg arg

"What?" she asked rudely. She was not a morning person.


"The master wishes to see you."


Pasha set the comb down and padded over to the door. A short, balding man peered up at her with watery, blood-shot eyes. His rat-like face radiated dislike.


"Can you do me a favor Wormtail?" she asked sweetly. "Could you go tell him to hang on for a few minutes, 'cause I'm kind of in the middle of something."

J: Wormtail gets EATEN.


K: ...where did he COME from? I thought she was talking to herself for a minute there...


J: marysue is a crazy fucking bitch.


K: Apparently Wormtail Apparates into girl's rooms as a hobby.


J: (Hermione) What the fucking fuck?


K: Ginny would be used to it, though...ahh, to live with the twins...


J: (Ginny) *does bat-bogey hex*


K: lol


J: batnosed rat.


K: mmm. Rodents all the waqy, baby.


[Janners' Note: Wacky rodents!]

Wormtail whimpered. Her knew he could tell him no such thing. "He wishes to see you right away."


Pasha sighed, "well, if he must."


She followed Wormtail as he lead the way through the various corridors and hallways, finally stopping in front of a pair of ornate wooden doors. Pasha knocked.


"Enter," said a cold voice from within.


She went in. It was a large room. Much more decorative and luxurious compared to hers. There was a fire crackling in the stone fireplace. Heavy red velvet drapes hung behind the person sitting in the gilded chair.


"Pasha. You have been my student for fifteen years, ever since your parents were murdered. You were just a year old weren't you?"


Hate boiled up within her, hate for the man who had killed her parents. She gritted her teeth.


The light from the fire danced on the persons pale face, illuminating his snakelike features. He studied her with wide, red eyes and smiled, knowing he had touched a nerve.


"Crucio," said Voldemort, pointing his wand at her.


Excruciating pain shot through her body. She wanted to scream, to cry for mercy, but she knew it would be pointless. She must stay silent. She was bent over in pain, squeezing her eyes shut. She must not make a sound. The pain abruptly ended. Pasha let out a moan.


"Impressive. Now for your final test. Let us see if you have the nerve, and the will to complete your mission." Voldemort waved his wand at the door, causing it to swing open. "Bring him in."


Two Death Eaters d

J: what's the letter for today, kremit?


K: the letter d, apparently.


J: Fucking Yahell.


K: it could be a verb...they Death Eater'd the night away.


J: But OF COURSE our mary sue doesn't scream during CRUCIO. Because to scream during the pain curse would make you a pansy.
J: Poor longbottoms.


K: ...was there cursing?...I didn't see cursing...


[J/N: Not paying attention!
(Kana) *lunges*]


K: Other than YOURS, at any rate.


J: Bite me.


K: *kiss*


J: ;slds;lfs;fls
J: That was me drumming my fingers on the keyboard impatiently.


K: have a valium, luv.

ragged a struggling man into the room. His frightened eyes flicked around the room. "Master!" he begged. "Please forgive me!"


Voldemort looked down at him in disgust. "Too late for that, Renwold. You betrayed me, and you know what happens to traiters."


Renwold sobbed. He knew all too well.

J: (Renwold) WRONG ME!
J: Making a totally obscure reference to Dead and Loving It.


K: ...mmm, Renwold; you have a name that cojours images of moldy bread. You deserve whatever lame death you're about to experience.

Voldemort gave Pasha a look, nodding. She didn't know if she could do this, if she could perform an Unforgivable Curse.


"He murdered your parents. Stole your childhood. What are you going to do about it?" Voldemort hissed when she hesitated.


She knew the man trembling before her wasn't the man who had killed her parents, but hate boiled up just the same. "Crucio."

K: Who you gonna call?


J: (Voldemort) Do ya feel lucky, Punk? Do ya?


K: VLODEMORT!
K: ...er.
K: ......shut up.


J: Vlodemort the Impaler.


K: I said shut up - (Lookie, I'm Pasha: CRUCIO!)


J: (Pasha) La la la la la! *hexes everything in sight*
J: *hits dandelion*


K: Most-often-said-word: CRUCIO!


J: (Dandelion) WTF, mate?
J: I'm going to sing the Crucio song now!


K: crucio crucio crucio crucio crucio

Renwold screamed. Rage coursed through her, coursed through every nerve. Hate blazed in her golden eyes. He writhed on the ground, shrieking in pain. Pathetic, she thought. Pasha lowered her wand when Voldemort raised his hand. Renwold lay panting on the ground. He gave her a look. She knew what that meant. She felt sorry for Renwold, but she had to do it if she wanted to get her revenge. And in order to do that, she had to prove herself to the Dark Lord.

J: Of course her eyes are golden.
J: They couldn't be normal.
J: Like, you know, BROWN or something.
J: No.
J: They have to be GOLDEN.


K: ...Is it just me, or was that scene full of sexual imagery?
K: ...Not even yellow.


J: She had to do it...she had to ass-rape him.


K: How DOES one get meatllic eye colors?
K: (meat?)


J: (Renwold) What....what...what are you going to do with that wand?


K: metallic.


J: Stay away from me!


K: *dies, all thoughts of meat forgotten*


J: Meatalicious eyes.
J: They look like t-bone steaks.


K: ...


J: Pasha gets a black eye, doesn't need to put steak on it.


K: .......


J: Can we test that?


K: PLEASE?

"Avada Kedavra!"


Blinding green light shot out of her wand, heading towards the man twitching on the ground. In an instant, he lay still. He would never rise again. Tears threatened to rise up as she felt the lump in her throat. She must not cry. She must not cry. Crying was a sign of weakness.


Voldemort nodded. "You are ready."

J: Tell me Avada Kedavra was directed at Pasha.


K: I would so love to be her shrink.


J: Oops. Nope.
J: Sigh.


K: We can only pray, now...


J: (Shrink) CRY, BITCH! *slaps her*


K: mmm. The tough love approach. That costs extra down in the slums.

Pasha felt no victory, no triumph. She stood silent.


"Draco Malfoy is also at Hogwarts. You are to help him."


Pasha recalled meeting Malfoy. She did not think much of him. She hated the way his eyes roved over her, inspecting her figure.


"And I suppose I do not need to remind you who your target is?"


Pasha nodded. "Albus Dumbledore."

J: PLOT STEALING BITCH
J: !
J: Wow. We can't type tonight.
J: Worht aasdflksd;lkds km adfkjjncf;flksd.
J: oh fucki it.


K: "No, Master, it bloody slipped my mind. Who was the ONLY wizard you've ever feared?"
K: Argh.


J: (Pasha) Keep your voice down....too much vodka for me last night. *giggles*


K: butterbeer
K: it gets ya every time.


J: The real reason for everyone's 'headache' in Trelawney's class.
J: I can't divine today, Prof. I have a headache.


K: Magical hangovers are better than muggle ones - pink elephants actually DO dance around your head!


J: And on it.


K: *tromp tromp*


J: mmm. Brain omelette.


K: THAT'S what happened to Pasha...


J: She's a special dragon, she is.
J: OKAY! On to Chapater two!


K: ...oh gods.
K: *weeps*


J: Wanna guess how many chapaters there are?


K: I have not the strength; spare me, for I am weak.


J: I'll just skip to the end of chp 2.


K: Thank you.

K: THANK YOU.

They all piled into the car after saying their goodbyes to Fred, George, Bill and Fleur. The car magically expanded to fit them all and they drove off towards Kings Cross Station.


The gleaming red train stood waiting, puffing out smoke impatiently.


"Harry! Ron!" called a voice from behind. Suddenly, Harry's vision was obscured by a mass of bushy brown hair as Hermione pulled him into a tight hug, doing the same to Ron.


"How were your holidays?" asked Harry.

J: no sexual imagery there at ALL.
J: between magically expanding cars, gleaming red trains, and Hermione's bush, I'd say either my mind is in the gutter or hers is.
J: Or both.


K: Hmm? Hermione's bush? The tight embrace? The big, red, hot machine? The steam filling the air?
K: No, not at ALL.
K: Silly Babby. Sex is for Pasha.

"It was great," gushed Hermione. "We went all over Europe. France, Italy, Spain…" she trailed off as she looked at Harry's face. "Oh sorry Harry. Here I am going on about how great my holiday was when you were here worrying about… everything."


Harry shook his head, "there's nothing to apologize for. I've actually been ok, you now, considering…"


Harry had told Ron and Hermione about what the prophicy contained. The prophcy that said he either had to kill, or be killed.

J: oop. now Hermione's 'gushing'.


K: eeeew


J: *dies*


K: I hate, I HATE it when they do that...oversensitivity annoys me. "Oh, did I express happiness About something we DON'T have in common? I'm SO sorry."

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "You better get on the train. It'll be leaving soon."


Ginny rushed back from greeting other friends and hugged Mrs. Weasley. "Bye Mum."


They all hugged her in turn and hopped on the train just as it started to roll forward. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, wandered to the back of the train looking for an empty compartment. One of the doors slid open and a round-faced boy stuck his head out.


"Harry! We saved seats for you guys."

J: Mrs. Weasley comes out of NOWHERE.
J: (Mrs. W) *LOOM*
J: HI, CRUNCHY CHILDREN.

"Oh hey Neville. Thanks."


The group trooped in and stowed their suitcases in the luggage rack. A girl with long, dirty blonde hair was already sitting in the compartment, her slightly protuberant eyes staring intently out the window.


"Hi Luna," said Ginny.


Luna shifted her gaze to them. "Hello," she said dreamily.


She went back to staring out the window.

J: mmmpizzahair.


[J/N: I know it seems like I'm commenting on the fic here, but I'm not. Kana put her pizza behind me and I leaned back in a cat stretch.]

Harry jumped when he saw someone else sitting at the corner of the compartment, already dressed in school robes. How could he have missed her? She had been sitting right there. Harry shrugged the thought off, he couldn't help noticing that she was very pretty. Her dark, glossy curls were pinned up pinned up but a few strands had managed to work their way out and tumble down. Her face had a kind of exotic, feline look to it. What stood out the most about her were her eyes. She had golden, cat-like eyes. Harry had never seen eyes like hers. He realized he was staring and forced himself to look away as he settled down into his seat. He glanced quickly at her again. He wondered if she was a first-year. She didn't look like a first year, but Harry had never seen her around the school before. He gave Neville a questioning look, as if to say Who is she? Neville shook his head. He didn't know.


"Hi, I'm Hermione," Hermione said.


"Pasha," the girl replied.


"I'm Ron," Ron hurriedly introduced.


Pasha gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Her eyes turned to Harry.


"Harry. Harry Potter," he offered.

K: Yeah, he noticed that she was JUST LLIKE HIM. :not another fangirl," hethinks...


J: (Harry) ARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! *runs in fear, jumps off train into river*
J: Through the window no less.


K: A mercy killing, I feel.


J: Notice how Ron and Herm found no need to whip out their last names, yet Harry is like MINE IS BIGGER!
J: Like a wand-measuring contest in the Gryffindor boys dorm.

J: *slapped*

K: Well, you know...The bigger they are...the BIGGER they are.

Her eyes flicked to his forehead, as he knew they would. But unlike other people when meeting him for the first time, she did not seem awed by him. Or excited, or even surprised. Her face showed no emotion.


"So what year are you going in to? You don't look like a first year," Hermione asked.

K: Ah, Hermione...blissfully unaware of the angst.


J: (Harry) Am...confused...not...normal...fangirl behavior.....ABORT PROGRAM! *head explodes*


K: Harry: Ziggy bookie dook!
K: *boom*

J: Ahhh....ze bubble fish!
J: Jana the conducting foghorn.

"Seventh."


"Do you know what House you're going to be in?" questioned Ron.


"Slytherin."


Everyone in the compartment exchanged looks. To his surprise, Harry was disappointed. But why should he be? No one asked any more questions and the rest of the trip was done in silence.

J: (Group) Well, FUCK.
J: That put a damper on the mood.
J: Bloody snake.


K: Because Pasha went to the Crabbe and Goyle school of communication skills.


J: (Pasha) I'm the tasteful haircut fairy.
J: SSSS.
J: ...er, *hiss*


K: ...GREAT save, Babs.


J: Thanks.
J: ON TO CHAPAPAPAPPAPAPAPATER 3!
J: Soy Porky Pig.


[Kana's Note: We're really losing it by this point. Is it obvious?]

Pasha stood in the line of first-years, towering over them as they fidgeted nervously, waiting for their names to be called. She looked over the sea of students, her eyes falling lastly on the Slytherin table. She knew the sorting was a waste of time on her, she already knew what house it would put her in. Her thoughts drifted back to when she was on the train. She had met Harry Potter. She had almost snorted when she had seen him. He was a tall, bespectacled boy with messy black hair. He looked just like any other teenager. How could he have defeated the Dark Lord? She couldn't understand.

J: Pasha couldn't stay away from the coke....
J: She almost snorted EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY.


K: Mmmm...he stole your look, didn't he Pasha? And that make Pasha ANGRY!
K: We don't like her when she's angry.

J: She turns green, which is just CRAP with her GOLDEN eyes.
J: And when Pasha gets angry....CRUCIOCRUCIOCRUCIO!

"Liza, Richard." A stern looking witch in emerald green robes read the names off a long list of parchment.

J: LIZA!
J: Richard's mom's name is Judy.


K: .....gay awwareness break......


J: gab for short.


K: wwww


J: let's skip to Pasha's sorting. (liza goes to Ravenclaw, if you're interested)


K: nope.

"Mayes, Pasha."


Whispering broke out as she strode forward.


"She's not a first-year"


"Who is she?"


"She hot!"


Pasha gritted her teeth as her sensitive hearing heard the last comment.

J: Which was said by Crabbe.
J: Or Goyle.
J: We don't believe in apostrophes or contractions here at the Crabbe Goyle School for Speaking Good.


K: Repeat after me: "Grunt." "grunk." No! BAD idiot!


J: IT's the PEN for you!

As she sat down on the small, three legged stool, she could see the Slytherins poised to clap. Malfoy had probably told them about her. She placed the hat on her head.


"GRYFFINDOR!"

J: but of fucking course.


K: Show of hands: who DIDN'T see it coming? *no one moves* Uh huh.


J: (Crabbe) *raises hand*
J: (Crabbe) *gets smacked*


K: No speakie for you!

Pasha started towards the Slytherin table before she realized that the noise was coming from the other end of the Great Hall. She turned, a look of confusion crossing her face before that, too, was gone, becoming blank once more. She made her way to the Gryffindor table and spied for a spare seat. She found one, and sat down.

J: (Pasha) *operating on auto-pilot*


K: *evil-pilot*

"Hi," said the boy next to her.


It was Harry Potter.

J: So who didn't see THAT one coming?


K: *not even Crabbe raises his hand*

"Hey."


"I thought you were going to be in Slytherin."


"I thought so too."


"I'm starving," exclaimed the red-headed boy named Ron.


"Ron, you're always starving," retorted Hermione.

J: (Herm) FOR MY LOVE>


K: STILL no last names for primary-supporting characters.


J: Nope. They haven't EARNED it.


K: They just...y'know...have gone through everything Potter's gone through since he met them...nothing HEROIC, of course.


J: Nope. Ron SACRIFICING himself in Book ONE wasn't enough....nor was Hermione sacrificing her GRADES in Book Two....fucking fanfic.


K: fuckin' A.
K: ...Let's get this over with...I have a headache.

J: Skip to chapapapapater 13?


K: apapapapa-do.
K: ......good dods, 13 just BECAME my unlucky number...
K: (GODS)
K: AAAAAAAARRRRGh

She didn't know why, but in her minds eye, she could see Harry's grinning face, just before she drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.

J: Regular-dream-less. Not wet-dream-less.


K: thhbbbt.

"I am Professor Middleweek and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year."


Harry, Ron and Hermione all jumped at the sound of her voice, recognizing it immediately. Hermione turned to Harry, Tonks? She mouthed. Harry nodded. It had to be. Professor Middleweek, or rather, Tonks, eyes twinkled when she saw their reaction.


The door to the classroom suddenly burst open and Pasha strode in.

K: Mmmm...hairy tonker.
K: *snort*
J: (Pasha) Fashionably late or not at all!


K: Must..be...edgily different!
K: Burst, stride...
K: yes.

J: (pasha) *seen reading "How to be Uniquely Rebellious while not sacrificing your utter sueness"*


K: lol


J: mmm...flicking water bottles is fun.


K: I'm trying to walk with a purposeful stiiiiiii---


J: a purposeful eye infection.


K: *bites*


J: *enjoys*


K: *scours mouth with brillo*

J: Ok, so in Chapapapaater 5, Malfoy and Pasha meet in the Forbidden Forest [OF LOVE] to discuss the doing away with of Dumbledore. By the by, tis revealed herein that Pasha is, yes, an animagi. Or someone that randomly turns into a cat at will.


K: of COURSE.


J: Rather, a panthe.r
J: I'm guessing.l
J: It doenst' realy ay.
J: ;lkasld
J: 'k


K: Thus ALL THE CAT REFERENCES we've been hearing ad nauseum.


J: *chops off fingers; sells them on the black market*


K: *nobody wants them*


J: Yeah. Like the grooming obsession.
J: (Pasha's fave pick up line) Want to groom?


K: ..........


J: So....here is a quote from their discussion of doing 'way with AD: "Well, we need to get him vulnerable somehow. Without his wand."
K: *chokes*


J: Because every man is vulnerable WITHOUT HIS WAND.
J: Which has a knob on the end.


K: For...purposes.

"You want to play with…me?" she asked, confused.

J: No, I want to play with PARTS of you.
J: Silly sue.
J: Sex is for CANON CHARACTERS.


K: please just let it be OVER

J: OMFG.
J: Chapapapater 13 is NOT the end.
J: The end is not up ye.
J: t.
J: fuck.
J: need elven fingers for...places.
J: stop kicking me!
J: whore.


[K/N: Here, Janners has lost it and is talking to herself.
J/N: *kicks Kana*
K/N: OW!
J/N: Whore. ]


K: ha ha.


J: Should we just grade it now? Call it quits and set fire to it?
J: My grade: blah. Writing was passable; fic SUCKED.
J: *desperately wants Pasha to spontaneously combust*


K: I concur: blah.


J: Ok. BURNED.
J: BEETCH.


[K/N: Some people shouldn't be allowed to have computers.


J/N: Like us, n'est pas? J/k. This fic made my brain bleed just a bit. I'm glad it's over. Only read it if you're insane. Mary Sues....are evil. And on another note, it's either really good or really bad to have us reviewing fics at two in the morning. Comments?]