Disclaimer: Hogwarts and all related spells and characters belong to J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Any similarities to characters is intentional and is meant as a parody. This fanfiction story is meant to be humorous and some grammar, spelling, and sentence structure errors are intentional. The Guavawolf of Napa Valley is property of the IAA.
Author note: The prologue and first chapter of this story were joint written by my friend, superhackaninja5
Prologue
It was a dark and story night. A cold wind howled like the Guavawolf of Napa Valley throughout the small log cabin. The door had been left a jar (It had been transfigured into a jar earlier that day for some reason, and the inhabitant of the house hadn't bothered to change it back), and it was crashing about, allowing rain to spurt in repeatedly.
A tall, imposing, cloaked figure entered, brandishing her wand like the weapon it was.
"I am Willow, the Dark Sorceress. I have come to eradicate the young terror, Samoht. Come to me, small child. I am your mother," said the figure as she whipped off the hood of her cloak dramatically.
The aforementioned child came toddling warily out of the other room, stopping in front of the fear wall.
"You are not my mother," the one-year-old said in a very mature, adult voice, crossing his small arms over his chest.
Willow stared at the infant in shock for a couple of moments before saying calmly, "Avada kedavra," pointing her wand at the small child.
A jet of green light shout out of the tip of the wand, hurtling straight for the boy. It came within about a centimeter of his forehead, but then it went no further instead, it changed course and began heading for the caster. If something, then something.
The boy' face popped as Willow vanished into thin air. Suddenly the words 'Aspen Lang' appeared on the small child's forehead in cursive. The boy glanced in a mirror and screamed for five hours.
