Harry Potter and the Endless Parade of Meaningless Clichés
Chapter One – Cold Open
TV Tropes will ruin your life.
A warning and real-life trope entry on the TV Tropes wiki. Consider yourselves warned.
Disclaimer:
…
Hem, hem. I said DISCLAIMER.
*glowers at screen*
Fine, fine, a disclaimer… I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, Luna would get more scenes but the overall plot would probably be a lot weaker. I don't own any of the other fictional characters who may or may not appear in this, either. If I did, their stories would probably be a lot worse than they are. I don't own TV Tropes. Nobody owns TV Tropes, although I hear that in Russia, TV Tropes owns you. This fic is intended as a parody of many of the things I personally find annoying about the fandom. It also parodies some things I love about the fandom. It also has a go at the books, obviously. And stuff. Will that do? I don't normally do disclaimers, you see…
Department of Mysteries, June 18th 1996:
Harry hurtled down the corridor, followed by Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna. The Death Eaters were in hot pursuit and he knew it was only a matter of time before they caught up. Reasoning that they would be less likely to be spotted if they weren't on a main corridor, he opened a door to his left and the six teens ducked into the room behind it. Neville locked the door, while the others lit up the room with wandlight. Looking around, it was clear that the room they had chosen as their hiding-place was less than ideal. It was small, and there was no cover. In fact, the room was entirely empty except for a small glass case on a raised plinth against the back wall. Harry and Hermione walked over to take a closer look. There was a label on the case that said Warning: do NOT open without proper authorisation. Observe Security Protocol 168 at all times. The contents of this case require further study. Found during Breach Event TZ15. Details in file no. 20222018.1516519.
Inside the case was a bottle, also made of glass. It appeared to be filled with some kind of smoke, which was constantly furling and moving and forming shapes that hovered just on the edge of recognition. There was a very old, faded label on the bottle.
If found, please return to Troperville [here there was a large smudge] not open unless you know what you're doing. And yes, we're aware that this warning is pointless and you'll probably open it anyway. Consider this a disclaimer, suckers!
The two friends exchanged a look.
"Back away slowly and then leg it when we reach a safe distance?" asked Harry.
Hermione nodded and they hastily back-peddled to the door.
"OK guys," Harry whispered, "we're going to have to make a break for it. There's no cover here, and I don't like the look of what's in that cabinet."
Ron nodded grimly and moved to open the door. Just before he got to it, it was blasted inwards.
"GOT THEM!" bellowed Lucius Malfoy triumphantly.
Bellatrix Lestrange ducked under his arm and dived into the room, grabbing Luna by the waist.
"I can't curse you while you're holding the prophecy, Potter, but let's see how long you want to keep hold of it when I'm torturing your little friend. Crucio!"
To Harry's surprise, Luna managed to land a kick on Bellatrix, who fell backwards clutching her rib. The deranged Death Eater jumped to her feet, snarling, and cast a Stunner at Luna. The blonde Ravenclaw ducked and the spell shot over her head. Harry followed its trajectory, watching as it flew with depressing inevitability towards the glass display case.
There was the sound of glass smashing, and then a bright white light.
Right, so, this is the point where the author of a parodic fanfiction would break the fourth wall to remind y'all that it's a parody. In the light of the last sentence of the actual narrative thus far, they would probably make some crack about smashing the fourth wall, but that would be fucking stupid, wouldn't it? In fact, the whole conceit would be trite, boring and overdone. So I'm going to avoid it.
Oh. Shit.
Oh, well, on with the motley…
Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of the room. Everyone else was stirring feebly and groaning, except for Bellatrix, who was curled up in the foetal position ceaselessly muttering "The horror! The horror!"
Harry stood up hastily and began rousing his friends. As his eyes readjusted after the burst of light, he noticed something swirling on the edge of his vision, always in the corner of his eye wherever he turned his head. It was like a mist outlining the walls and everything in the room, even the people, and slowly sinking in to them. He didn't like the look of that.
The six of them had barely made it clear of the doorway when Lucius started struggling to his feet, so they ran wildly, seeing the same mist all around them. They didn't stop until they found themselves back in the room with the creepy veil. Once they piled into the room and sealed the nearest door, they weren't really sure where to go, so Hermione began magically locking every other door she could see. She had only got about half of them done when Lucius and Bellatrix burst into the room, followed by two masked Death Eaters. Harry gaped. His two enemies looked completely different to how they had just a few minutes ago. Malfoy's cheekbones were higher, his hair was slightly longer – in fact, he looked like one of Tolkien's elves, thought Harry, suddenly grateful for the library in his primary school – and he seemed a lot more handsome. As for Bellatrix… She was no longer the gaunt witch who had escaped Azkaban. She looked a lot more like she had in Dumbledore's memory of her trial, wild and beautiful. The oddest thing was that her robes had disappeared. She was now wearing black lace gloves, a black skirt with – you guessed it – black lace trimming, black button boots and a black corset. There was definitely a colour scheme in play, and Harry wondered if it was supposed to be some kind of pun on her maiden name. He was impressed by her ability to run in the corset, which had compressed her waist to a diameter of a few inches but was straining under the pressure of her ample bust. It looked like running would involve lung strain, cracked ribs, back pain and a lot of bouncing, and yet somehow she hadn't even broken a sweat. Lucius kept shooting vaguely bemused glances in her direction.
One of the Death Eaters grabbed Neville, the other pulled Ginny into a headlock. Bellatrix made another dive for Luna. Luna sidestepped, tripped her up and stamped on her prone form, smiling dreamily all the while.
"Enough games, Potter," snarled Lucius. The effect was spoiled somewhat by the fact that he was examining his elegantly-manicured fingernails. "I chipped a fucking nail back there! NO! I mean, give me the prophecy or watch your friends die!"
It didn't look like Harry had any choice. He held out the glass ball, but before Lucius could take it another door burst open. Harry looked up: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley had arrived. The Order was here and everything was going to be OK. He grabbed Hermione and Luna and pulled down behind the dias. Neville and Ginny broke free of their captors and joined them, followed by Ron. With Luna no longer standing on her, Bellatrix sprung up and joined the fray. Bouncing ensued.
It irked Harry to be sidelined when his friends were fighting, but amid the confusion of battle it was difficult to tell friend from foe, and he was afraid that if he started firing off spells he might hit an Order member. After a few minutes, the air around the veil was thick with discharged magic, making it even harder to see what was going on. Suddenly, he heard Bellatrix's laugh ringing out and Tonks came flying through the air. She landed in front of Harry, clearly out cold. Bellatrix appeared in pursuit, and saw Harry standing over Tonks. She grinned wickedly, running her tongue over her teeth.
"Got you, Potter! Stupify!"
Harry hastily conjured a Shield Charm and deflected the spell. Before Bellatrix could cast again, Sirius appeared out of nowhere, rugby-tackling her and driving her away from Harry. The two cousins began to duel ferociously, both casting to kill. Sirius was ducking and diving, dodging everything that Bellatrix could throw at him. Jumping up in front of the veil, he cast a Stunner that Bellatrix barely managed to avoid. Furious, the Death Eater leaped forwards, firing a series of Stunners directly at Sirius' chest. He fell backwards through the veil and disappeared.
Everything seemed to have gone strangely quiet apart from the ringing in Harry's ears. He knew instinctively that Sirius was dead. He felt anger coursing through his body. Anger, and something else. Power. Pure, unadulterated power. He ran full-tilt towards Bellatrix, screaming with rage and grief, and everything went black.
Let's take a moment here to look at the big picture. The camera pans out. Out of the Veil room, out of the Department, out of the Ministry. That strange mist is spreading outwards and overlaying everything and everyone it comes in contact with. Pay close attention, the special effects are quite expensive. As a matter of fact, they're so expensive that I couldn't afford them, so I borrowed an old set from The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett. That's why there's a vague suggestion of Chelonianishness to the shapes the mist makes as it swirls.
Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on something. A bed. Confused, he sat up.
"Ah, Harry, you're awake," said a familiar voice, and Dumbledore stepped into his field of vision.
"What… what happened?" muttered Harry, clutching his pounding head.
"When Bellatrix Lestrange killed Sirius, it appears that you had an outburst of accidental magic, as happened when you inflated your Aunt Marge three years ago. Except this time it was on a much more powerful scale. Surprisingly powerful, in fact. I arrived at the scene just after you had lashed out with so much magical energy that every single Death Eater in the room had been knocked unconscious. The effort made you pass out."
Harry frowned.
"And the others? Are they OK?"
"No lasting harm done," replied Dumbledore with a reassuring smile, "and your eruption of magic didn't seem to affect them at all."
"That's odd," said Harry, feeling puzzled, "surely an uncontrollable blast of accidental magic should have hurt everyone?"
Dumbledore shrugged, and Harry remembered his other pressing question.
"What was with the prophecy about Voldemort and me?"
Dumbledore sighed.
"I had hoped to save this news until better circumstances, but… fifteen years ago I was interviewing Sybill Trelawney for the vacancy of Divination Professor. The interview took place in the Hog's Head, and towards the end she went into a trance and made a prophecy."
He paused, and then recited from memory.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
Harry gaped, and Dumbledore continued.
"Halfway through the prophecy, before the bit about the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, the barman caught a Death Eater who was spying on the meeting. Thus, Voldemort received an incomplete version of the prophecy. Not knowing that it was his actions that would complete it, he weighed up the two potential candidates for the one with the power to vanquish him. There were two children born at the end of July to Order members who had escaped him three times in the past. One was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."
"So, then, the prophecy could be about Neville?" asked Harry, confused.
"No, it has to be you, because Voldemort marked you as his equal. It could have been about Neville before he did that, but no longer. Now, I suspect, he has realised that he didn't hear the full prophecy and wants to hear the rest in case it explains how he failed to kill you, not realising that you are protected by your mother's love. Which, by the way, is why you must return to Privet Drive each summer. Lily's protection lives on in your aunt's blood."
Harry was struggling to keep up. This was a lot to take in. One thing, however, was still bugging him.
"And the last bit? Neither can live while the other survives?"
"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore serenely, "one of you is going to have to kill the other, in the end. Lemon drop?"
Harry groaned and collapsed back onto his bed. As if he didn't have enough stuff to worry about.
A/N: Muahahahaha! And I'm only just getting started…