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A Parody of Peggy Sue Fics
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By DireSquirrel
Harry Potter was dead.
Not a little, not a lot.
Just plain dead.
Now this would normally be a setback, but Harry Potter woke up in a waiting room.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, how nice of you to join us again," a woman said. She was, of course, the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Some kind of divine cliché of beauty in fact. She was probably the daughter or handmaiden, or accountant or peanut sales woman of Death.
That's right, capital D.
"So, you've now died for the, let's see here... 427th time. I'd say that's a new record. For a man that is, well, boy," she said looking at him. "Daniel Jackson's only up to 193, and Buffy Summers has managed a nice round 300. I doubt you'll be beating 616 Jean Grey's whopping 1732 deaths, most of which were reversed in her own timeline, but we've got a going bet on you hitting five hundred by the time you figure things out."
"Figure things out? I just died a horribly cliché death!" Harry Potter replied testily. "There were wands, and dark wizards and stuff. Horribly cliché!"
"Yes, it was. Shame you can't remember the other times," she replied. "You seem to particularly like that cliché death. Part of our argument about nature vs. nurture, small part, but a part all the same." She peered over reading glasses (why the daughter or handmaiden or accountant or peanut sales woman of Death needed reading glasses, no one knew, but she had them and really worked that sexy Librarian look) at a post-it note attached to the top of his file. "Interesting, upper management got drunk and decided to have me roll on the "Peggy Sue Super Power Chart" for you."
"Chart? What's that for?"
"Well, you see, every once in a while we get people who think death is a revolving door, you for instance," she said as she pulled out a d100. It was the kind of die that took almost forever to slow down, but Harry was dead, so you could say he had all the time in the world. Not literally, since Time was a bit of a slut even if he was a pretty decent guy, but all the same. The daughter or handmaiden or accountant or peanut sales woman of Death shook the die and let it fly. They waited and waited and waited. "Huh, that's a One Hundred. Let's see... that's four rolls on the minor power table and two on the major power table."
Harry watched and waited as she rolled six more times.
"Okay for minor powers you have: keep your memories of your last life; random retcon of nobility (minor), and a random retcon of nobility (major), pretty much that means you'll have some titles that never existed before. You'll probably be the Hare or Hire of the Founders or some crap like that," she said.
"Do you mean Heir?" Harry asked.
"Nah, that's not the kind of thing you roll on the minor powers table," she explained before turning back to the paper. "Getting back on topic: your final minor power is...Metamorphimagus abilities."
"I'd think that would be major," Harry said.
"Nope, the ability to take any form isn't that big a deal," she explained. "Loki used to hand that out in the old days like a pedophile handing out lolipops out the back of a van in a grade school parking lot."
"But Tonks-"
"Talented, I'm sure, but not a major power," she argued. "And onto your major powers. I rolled a 37 and a 99, so let's see here..." she pulled out a large tome and started flipping pages. "Ah! Here we go. Your first major power is Zeus's Seduction. Women are attracted to you over all else. Even women who hate your guts and have no reason to be attracted to you will suddenly start falling all over themselves to get into your pants and might even go through extreme personality changes to please you. Expect development of extreme kinks that don't fit their established personality."
"I don't want that!" Harry protested. "That's horrible!"
"Please," she drawled with a roll of her eyes. "It's not like this doesn't happen all the time with Peggy Sue style time travel."
"I don't want it! Reroll!"
"Nah, it's more interesting when it happens and you're not comfortable about it. Ah, teen romance angst," she said. "And you final major power is... Drum roll please," she slapped out a vague beat on the desk. "Freudemancy talent (Major). That translates into an inexplicable twelve foot long prehensile penis."
"...what...?" Harry asked quietly. He thought it over again. "WHAT?"
"An inexplicable twelve foot long prehensile penis," she repeated.
"How am I going to explain that?"
"You can't, it's inexplicable," she answered before glancing over the paperwork one last time. "Well, that looks like we've covered everything. I'm going to send you back now."
"No, wait! Isn't there something more? Can't I just go to my rest?" Harry pleaded.
"Oh, right, I'm supposed to mention how you didn't end up with your one true soul mate, but meh, I can't be bothered to look that up right now," the daughter or handmaiden or accountant or peanut sales woman of Death replied with a shrug. "I'm sure if you use your Freudemancy, you'll be able to figure it out eventually."
And then Harry was thrown back to earth, some time before his death where he had to deal with a yandere Bellatrix.
AN: I get that this was originally a challenge, but so many of them are the same cliches over and over again. I just wanted to poke a little fun at that.