A/N: You should know that this is a PARODY of other fanfictions that I have read. Consequently, it has as many fanfiction cliches as I could fit in this limited space. Obviously, it doesn't have all of them, but I hope it will be enough to make someone crack a smile. This is my first HP fanfic and my second overall, so I would really appreciate any feedback... if you make it to the end. UPDATE: I have edited the original chapter for spelling and grammar. If you see any other errors, feel free to let me know.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If you thought I did, maybe you should stop staring at that screen for a few hours and go get some fresh air.
Too Much, Too Late
Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell. - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
There was a moment of total silence in the Great Hall, as everyone stared at the corpse, seemingly unable to believe that it was over. Suddenly, to his shock, Harry felt himself falling as he was bowled over by an ecstatic bushy-haired witch. They landed together; staring into each other's eyes from bare centimeters away. As Hermione uncharacteristically giggled at their clumsiness, Harry impulsively leaned up and planted his lips on hers. It was meant as a "thank you" more than anything else, much like Hermione's earlier kiss with Ron. The instant their mouths made contact, though, a golden light shone around the pair. A pulse of magic strong enough to knock everyone off their feet originated from them and surged outward, rapidly travelling across all of Great Britain. In shock, they broke apart and stared.
What the bloody hell was THAT?
"Language, Harry." Hermione responded automatically, not realizing that Harry hadn't actually spoken.
How did she hear that? What is going on?
"What do you mean, how did I hear that? Didn't you say something?" Hermione queried.
"Um, no," Harry replied, "I just thought it."
Her eyes wide, Hermione thought, Harry? Can you hear this?
"'Course I can, Mione. Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh dear. Harry, I think we are Soul Bonded. It means that we are the perfect fit for each other in every way." Hermione blushed as she put emphasis on the word 'every'. "We can hear each other's thoughts, feel each other's emotions, and share out magical abilities. If one of us dies, the other will soon follow. Essentially, we just became the same person in two bodies."
Harry beamed, "Really? So does this mean we are married?! Awesome!"
As Hermione kissed her newly minted husband, she could vaguely hear a side character named Ginny screaming somewhere in the back of the crowd.
Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall burst open, revealing a veritable army of goblins. They were led by a goblin that stood at least a head taller than the rest (which meant that he came up almost to Harry's chin). This goblin (who was clad entirely in gold armor even though gold is notoriously soft and is terrible for protection) marched directly up to Harry and bowed to him, much to the shock of everyone around. "Well met, Lord Potter! I am Ragnok, the Director of Gringotts Bank and leader of the Goblin Horde. A goblin of my station has not spoken to a wizard in over three centuries, but I felt that it was necessary to leave my stronghold to deliver this Very Important Letter to you!"
By this point, Harry was completely shell-shocked. His hand trembled as he accepted the roll of parchment and cracked the seal. Inside, the parchment was filled with mostly legal jargon that Harry had no hope of understanding, so he passed the letter to Hermione without a word.
Her eyes narrowed as she read through the missive, instantly understanding concepts that she had no previous exposure to. "Harry, this can't be right. This letter says that as the Head of Houses Potter and Black, you are eligible to be tested for the lines of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Merlin, Gandalf, Morgana, Medea, and Saruman. Some of those aren't even real people!"
Ragnok butted in, "Unfortunately, you are correct, Miss Granger. That is why, when we tested Harry for the various family lines (we assumed he wouldn't mind), he only came back positive for seven of the nine. Harry, you now hold the title 'Lord Potter-Black-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin-Merlin-Morgana-Medea.' The last three did not have last names, so you must use their first names instead. Basically, this makes you the king of the wizarding world."
Harry only had one question. "Am I rich?"
Ragnok threw back his head and laughed gutturally, which is, of course, the only way goblins ever laugh. "Are you rich? Harry, your bank account balance right now is so long that the parchment couldn't hold all the numbers. You have infinity galleons. You literally cannot ever run out of money."
"What else does this do for him?" interjected Hermione, twisting her fingers with Harry's.
"As the Founders' Heir, Harry owns Hogwarts, and most of Hogsmeade. The combined Wizengamot seats controlled by all the families gives him 68% of the vote, just enough to force any legislation past all vetoes or filibusters. The Merlin name gives him control of Diagon Alley, while the Morgana name gives him Knockturn Alley. Harry literally owns wizarding Britain." His job complete, Ragnok turned on his heel and marched out of the room, followed by the goblin army.
"I… I think I need to sit down," said Harry. As he practically fell to the floor, another surge of golden magic filled his body. As Hermione backed away in horror, Harry rose off the ground and began to scream. Levitating parallel to the ground, but about four feet above it, Harry began to change before their very eyes. Still screaming, he began to grow taller, broader, and stronger. His glasses fell off and shattered on the floor. His hair was growing longer, and was about at shoulder length when the screaming and the golden light suddenly stopped. With a loud "oof!" Harry fell to the ground. Concerned for her husband, Hermione instantly rushed forward to help.
"Are you all right?" she squealed frantically as she knelt beside him. Harry slowly sat up with her help as she got a good look at him. Her best friend the boy had been replaced with her best friend the man. Hermione considered herself lucky that she was already on the ground, because her knees suddenly felt very weak. Harry's glasses were gone, allowing those deep emerald pools to draw her in to the fullest extent. His ebony locks now hung around his shoulder, which for some unexplained reason was 'cool'. His shoulders were broad (undoubtedly from all that Quidditch), and she could tell that he now stood at least a head taller than her. All in all, Harry was simply gorgeous.
Not noticing the effect he was having on his female companion, Harry gazed into her eyes. "I feel… stronger. Not just physically, but magically, and maybe mentally. Before this happened, I was exhausted from all the fighting. Now, I feel like I could do ten times what I just did without breaking a sweat!" he said.
Hermione shook her head. "Oh, Harry. Your magical core must have been blocked! You only had access to a fraction of your full potential all this time!"
As Harry tried to process all the events of the last ten minutes, one thought kept pushing to the front of his mind. All the pain, struggle, and death caused by Voldemort would have been so easy to prevent with all his new-found magical, political, and financial power, not to mention the power of love that was strengthened by his love for Hermione. As he gazed at the body of his erstwhile nemesis, a shadow swirled up from the floor and coalesced into a vaguely human shape. The being was ten feet tall, shrouded by a pitch black cloak, and carried a scythe. Kneeling before Harry, the creature intoned, "Master, I am Death. As master of my Hallows, you may command me anything and I will be compelled to obey. Is there anyone you want dead? I can take care of that instantly if you so desire."
"SERIOUSLY?!"