DISCLAIMER: I do not have the talent or the accent to be J.K. Rowling, and while I may talk British often as a symptom of watching too much Doctor Who, I am quite confident that my accent is fantastically mediocre. Therefore, unfortunately, there is no possible way for me to be a super-amazing-fantastic author like Rowling is.
This is a parody fic designed to poke fun at Mary Sues and clichés in the HP fandom. Originally, it was to be written with absolutely unreadable grammar, but my brain would not allow me to do such a terrible thing to the readers of . One of Ravenna's middle names, Marvola, is stolen with permission from the parody OC of CoralFlower. Thanks, Coral!
Please enjoy!
Harry Potter, eighteen-year-old boy hero, woke up on May 2, 1999, feeling very strange. He felt like he was forgetting something. What could he be forgetting? All he knew was that it was his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (he had returned after the Battle of Hogwarts to complete his last year) and that today, he was to be enjoying a perfectly normal schedule without any classes.
Of course, the reason he didn't have any classes on this particular May 2, 1999, was because it was a Sunday, and nobody has classes on Sunday. Harry was very excited about this fact, because he had Potions every single weekday, and he hated Potions, especially Professor Snape. Professor Snape, obviously, was entirely alive and well and still the potions master. What would give anyone the idea that he wasn't? The Supreme Ruler loved the character of Snape. Of course he wasn't dead, because it was definitely her universe.
"Wake up, Harry! I want food!" A voice came from the bed next to Harry's: his best friend Ron's. "Come on, Harry! The fooooooood! I'm being deprived of its wonderfulness!" Somehow, this dialogue did not seem like something like Ron would say. It seemed quite OOC, in fact, as Harry considered it, but if the Supreme Ruler thought that it was fitting to Ron, it must have been fitting to Ron.
Wait, what the heck was OOC?
Harry guessed that something strange must have come over him, because he'd never heard the letters "OOC" together before. OOC? Seriously, what was that? The messy-haired teenager had no clue entirely what OOC meant or stood for. That he would know what the letters "OOC" were for would be entirely out of character.
"Of course we have to get you to the Great Hall, then, Ron," said Harry, because it seemed like the right thing to say, as if someone was egging him on. "We wouldn't want you to be hungry."
"Of course not!" the oddly-acting Ron exclaimed as the two boys left their dormitory, leaving Neville still snoring in the bunk next to Ron's. Harry and Ron made their way down the staircases and left through the portrait hole.
As the pair of them headed towards the Great Hall, Ron's stomach rumbling like Winnie the Pooh's (Harry had grown up with A. A. Milne's stories read to him daily), Harry realized that two people seemed like a smaller number than normal. "Where's Hermione, Ron?" he asked curiously, as if questions were never asked curiously.
"Oh, she's meeting up with us at breakfast, she said," Ron informed his best friend, "and she's bringing along that idiot, Malfoy, who we all completely hate, but when we realize the truth about him, who we'll eventually learn to accept." All right then, Harry thought to himself, wondering why on Earth Hermione was bringing along Malfoy.
They reached the Great Hall (because obviously their conversation had been incredibly long) and noticed Hermione running towards them, Malfoy in tow. Harry's best friend was absolutely stunning. Her sleek, shiny, immaculately-groomed chocolate-colored hair cascaded down her back like a mountain waterfall, and her flawless eyeliner, skillful eyebrow pencil, midnight black mascara, and perfect rosy eyeshadow complimented her milk-chocolate eyes amazingly. Her lustrous lipstick, lip gloss, and lip liner, applied faultlessly, made her red lips look beyond compare, and her foundation, rouge, blush, and bronzer made her tan skin untarnished in any way. Of course, she needed no concealer - her skin was perfect. Her nails were painted expertly in a fantastic shade of American rose. Hermione wore a pair of denim short shorts and a tight hot pink tank top, as well as a pair of dangly beaded earrings. Had this story been a Harmony fanfiction, Harry would have realized that Hermione was his one true love the whole time, however, everyone knew that the Supreme Ruler shipped Dramione, and therefore he felt no physical attraction to her whatsoever.
Harry wondered for a moment how he knew so many synonyms for "perfect," or how he had gleaned the knowledge of what sort of makeup she wore, or what in the name of Merlin shipping was, as he ran up to his friend. "Hello, Hermione! Where were you?" he asked.
"The head students' suite, duh!" she replied. Harry was slightly stunned by this fact, as well as by Hermione's dialogue. This seemed very out of character. Hermione seemed to notice his confusion. "Draco and I share a suite," she explained, "because we're, like, the head students! Obviously I'm the best ever, so I'm Head Girl, and Draco is just so incredibly nice and always follows the rules and was never, like, about to kill the headmaster or join Voldemort or anything, so he's Head Boy. Well, actually, he was, but there's a really good, logical reason for Draco being the Head Boy that the Supreme Ruler doesn't want to tell us."
"Do the head students share a suite now?" Harry asked, confused.
"Well, when Percy was Head Boy, and he could hear Ron screaming when Sirius came to kill Scabbers, don't you think he would have been in a completely separate location at Hogwarts?" she asked, looking at him as if she was spelling something out for a small child.
"Uh, no, not really…"
"Harry, you're so illogical! Of course he was all the way across the castle and still heard Ron! Draco and I are in there this year, and we share a room, because gender separation doesn't matter for the head students, you know? We used to hate each other, but then on Halloween he made me watch a scary movie with him, and at this really scary part I just buried my head in his shoulder, and I realized that maybe he used to be an idiot, but he's changed now, you know? He was just misunderstood. And… ohmigod, he's soooo gorgeous! He's part veela, and his silky hair and stormy eyes and muscular figure are just so handsome, and I love him so much."
"Ooookay," Harry said, walking away. Something about this seemed odd, but he realized it was what the Supreme Ruler had happen, and whatever the Supreme Ruler had happened was surely right, because after all, it was most definitely the Supreme Ruler's universe.
"Hi, Harry," came a sultry voice from behind him. "This is my new boyfriend, Blaise."
The girl behind him was Ginny, Harry knew, but something felt just the slightest bit wrong about her. The beautiful Weasley looked just like she always had - perfectly straight red hair that fell down to her waist, swinging as she walked, immaculately combed. She was tall and skinny and had dazzlingly blue eyes that made Harry think of the wide expanses of the Caribbean. Harry could tell that her blush was the perfect color for her, and that her hot pink lipstick cost a hundred Galleons (because the Weasleys were, as everyone knew, very, very rich). Ginny had donned a strapless aquamarine dress that went halfway down her thigh and that matched her beautiful blue eyes impeccably. Something didn't seem right about her, but Harry just couldn't put it down.
"I'm confident he's the one," Ginny continued, "because I've never felt this way about anyone. Except for the forty-seven other boyfriends I've had, but Blaise… Blaise is just special. Okay, I thought Dean was special, and I thought Oliver was special, and I thought Tom Riddle was special when I went back in time and fell in love with him, and I thought Godric Gryffindor was special when I went back in time and fell in love with him. I mean, the only boyfriend I've ever had that I didn't ever think was special was your dad. He only dated me when I was accidentally sent back to your parents' time because I have red hair. But Blaise, Blaise is special."
"You went out with my dad?"
"Duh. I go out with just about every guy I meet, because I don't have any sense of dignity."
"You went out with my dad?"
"Yeah."
Blaise was being strangely quiet. He was the strong and silent type, Harry could tell.
"Attention, students!" It was Professor Dumbledore. The entire school, which had all gathered at the same time for breakfast, turned to watch and became completely and absolutely silent. "We have the privilege of welcoming three new students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Ladies and gentlemen, here they are!" The doors of the Great Hall opened, and three beautiful girls entered and walked gracefully down the center aisle, one at a time. All of the boys in the school gaped at the young ladies' magnificence, especially the first years.
The first girl was a petite brunette of exceptional beauty who wore a mischievous grin. Her face was tan, freckled, and young, and her hair was pulled back into a stunning French braid. She wore a flattering violet sundress that flew around her as she made her way to Dumbledore's podium, braided brown sandals flapping on the stone floor. She was the image of natural beauty, wearing only tan blush and pink eyeshadow and natural-colored lipstick. She cast the spell "Sonorous," making her voice noticeably louder, and spoke: "'Lo, everyone. My name's Alyssa Madisyn Katelyn Piper Isabella Black - Katelyn for short. I'm very excited to meet you all!"
Harry stood up. "Katelyn Black, you said?" he confirmed, and obviously everyone in the hall could hear him. "That's weird, because my godfather's name was Black."
"Oh, Sirius? Yes, he's my father! What do you mean, it was Black?" she responded.
"Well, I - I thought he was, well, dead."
"Dead? Why would you think that?"
Harry thought about her question for a moment. "I guess I don't really know," he said frowning. "But it's rather odd, though. He never mentioned he had a daughter."
"Yes, he did. Don't you remember, Harry?" Katelyn inquired, brown eyes boring into him as she smiled. Now that she said that, he could remember. Something about how Sirius was married to Marlene McKinnon and they had a daughter, but then Marlene left him and took little Katelyn. Actually, Harry could remember a lot about this, but he had a feeling that the Supreme Ruler didn't want him to tell the readers of this story, because she was going to write a one-shot about it. Not that Harry knew what a one-shot was, of course.
Katelyn smiled. "That's what I thought," she replied, grinning and going to sit down at one of the three conveniently vacated chairs at the front of the Great Hall.
The second girl was tall and platinum blonde with a bright green streak in her hair, and her cascading white curls bounced around as she walked - no, danced - to the other side of the hall. She must have had Veela blood, because her pale skin was like porcelain, and her green eyes seemed to be windows of stained glass. She had long, slender fingers and thin hips, with a small, perfectly-proportioned pink mouth. Her eyebrows were a thin, unwavering curve and her nails long and painted with lime-green fingernail polish, but the polish was evidently the only makeup she wore, not that any more was needed. Her cream-colored boatneck sweater and grey skinny jeans accented her body perfectly. She stepped up to the staff table and casted "Sonorous!" in a soft, lilting voice with an accent that sounded American. "I'm Lis Malfoy," she said, smiling prettily, "and if anyone wants to mess with me, I'll hex them into oblivion."
Draco and Hermione stood up in unison, their hands still clasped together, but while Draco was gaping, mouth in a wide O, at the girl standing on Dumbledore's podium, Hermione was glaring at her boyfriend.
Boyfriend. That sounded weird.
"Is she your wife?" Hermione inquired incredulously.
"Of course not, Mione," said Draco, "I'm just an innocent seventeen-year-old boy. I don't have a wife. I have a loving, amazing, beautiful girlfriend. I'd take you over her or anyone else any day. I love you, Mione."
"I love you too, Draco," Hermione said as she looked lovingly into her boyfriend's eyes. "I know that everyone thinks we're a terrible couple, but you're just so misunderstood. You've always been a lovely person on the inside. But if she's not your wife, who is she?"
Lis responded before Draco could answer. "I'm his twin."
"But I don't have a twin," the male Malfoy confidently attested.
Lis smiled as she spoke, her American accent foreign and exotic-sounding. "Of course you do, Draco! Your father wanted a male heir. He wanted nothing to do with a girl. So, tragically, he sent me away halfway across the world to live in America with our long-lost cousins, the Swans. But now, after a long, hard-fought journey, I finally know who I am. I am Beetlejuice Mira Capella Polaris Diadem Kitalpha Head-of-Hydrus Double-Double-(7051) Alula-Borealis Malfoy, and you can all call me Lis."
"Wait, isn't Beetlejuice that one Muggle movie? Isn't the star, like, Betelgeuse or something?" Draco asked, still standing with Hermione.
"Yes, but the Supreme Ruler didn't do her research, so my name's Beetlejuice. How'd you know the spelling when I was talking?"
Draco shrugged. "I don't know. It's a fanfiction."
"What's a fanfiction?" Hermione asked, her head tilted to the side. Her boyfriend shrugged again.
"I don't know."
The doors of the Great Hall opened once more as Beetlejuice Mira Capella Polaris Diadem Kitalpha Head-of-Hydrus Double-Double-(7051) Alula-Borealis Malfoy went to sit down.
The third girl had thick black hair that went down just past her shoulders - no, bright scarlet hair in a pixie cut - no, purple hair that went down to her waist - oh, forget it, she had everything. It changed every second. Grey eyes, purple eyes, green eyes. Dark skin, fair skin, olive skin. Red lipstick, black lipstick, none at all. She was, evidently, a metamorphmagus. She kept her general appearance, though, with big eyes, full lips, and a tall, well-balanced frame. She scowled as she walked down the aisle in black six-inch heels and a short black dress ornamented with buckles and chains. Perhaps she looked harsh, but she also looked beautiful.
As she stepped up to the podium, her skin stayed olive, her lipstick stayed black, and her eyes were a dark, dark grey. Her hair was a wavy black and reached her elbows, its tips colored bright red and purple. Harry supposed that this was her usual appearance. "Sonorous," she said, and her voice was immediately magnified. "My name is Ravenna Salazara Marvola Morfina Katie Voldemorta Riddle, Ravenna for short."
"You're Voldemort's daughter?!" Harry roared, jumping up.
"No," she answered, "why would you think that? It's not as if I have any obvious references to dark characters in the Harry Potter series. I'm the only daughter of Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, but my father has always hated me. I've never known why."
"It couldn't be because you're pretty much named after Voldemort and his ancestors, could it?" Harry asked skeptically, but as soon as he said it, he wondered why he had. His logic didn't make sense at all. "Never mind, you're right. Ravenna. Daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Beautiful. Cool last name, too, Riddle. I don't know why it's your last name, though."
"Don't talk about my past!" Ravenna lashed out suddenly. She then stalked over to the last seat at the front of the hall.
Something strange was going on, Harry could tell. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was. But if the Supreme Ruler said it happened, it must have happened, because it was absolutely and definitely the Supreme Ruler's universe.
