The plant was shelterd in a hollow grove

The plant was shelterd in a hollow grove in the ground. Small waterfalls made light noises all around. It was beautifal, and was about to end Cancer. I reached slowly forward to it
but the plant suddenly bit my hand off. Ouch! Suddenly, I realized I was upon a tough decision. Use it to cure cancer or destroy it to get my hand back? Without my hand, I couldn't
make those lovely cupcakes my granny liked so much, not only that I couldn't complete the statue I was making of
Harry Potter. I love Harry Potter.
Dumbledore continued to mutter about Potter in his sleep, then snapped awake. He knew he had to get ahold of himself, but then he realized where his hand was. Reaching for a towel,
which had Harry's beardless, bespectacled face printed on it, Dumbledore shot his twinkling wizard goo all over the boy's cunt-shaped scar.
Fortunately, Dumbledore's goo had magical healing powers, and Harry's scar was gone forever. Now he didn't feel so self-conscious when they took pictures for the Hogwarts yearbook.
At least, until the following year when puberty hit Potter like a truck. "I can't believe we have spells to turn people into stone, but nothing that can
make an ambition zit that looks like a pussy third eye dissapear, thought Harry looking in the mirror dismally. Then the zit pulsed disturbingly
. startling Harry. "Am I really that Harry?" He thought. "Could I really be?" Or are there multiple Harrys running about the multiverse, with a superposition of zitted-not zitted?

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