Harry Potter and the Odious Odor
By: Thranx
Dedicated to CastleRock, for providing my life with much needed humor
Summary: All you need to know is that this is an anti-Severitis fanfic.
Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe) for language and, er…suggestive comments
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"Wow, Harry!" Don exclaimed when Harry flew into the Fat Hall upon his spanking new Firebolt 28493.453 at the end of the Sorting Ceremony. "You grew out your hair."
Indeed, the narrow-minded Donald Weasley (so named because his animagus form was a duck) had managed to note one of the many changes that took place over the summer for the Boy Who Lived To Die Again In A Later Book After Much Teenage Angst. Harry shook out his jet black hair, which now cascaded down to his shoulders, and lit up a cigarette. He sat down on top of the table so the audience could see him better.
"Will you move!" Hermione snapped, who predictably had her nose buried so deep in a book that it stuck out through a gap in the spine.
"How was summer?" Don asked.
Harry shrugged. "Oh, the typical yarn. My uncle made me fry the bacon twenty times in a row trying to get the scene right for the first movie. But then he started speaking backwards in Spanish; I tried throwing holy water on him but it gave him hives, so I pushed him out of the window instead. My Aunt Petunia beat me and then locked me in a cabinet in the bathroom. It was smelly, but nice."
But of course no one listened, because though he was the main character, he was a tragic hero. It was expected then that his life be a bit…tragic.
"Aren't you going to ask my why I'm late to the Sorting Ceremony?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.
"Because you're the main character, why else?" Hermione retorted.
"Oh, right. Well, aren't you at least going to ask me why I look different?" he persisted, while winking across the table at Gred and Forge, who the author dragged back to Hogwarts to finish their seventh year merely for comic relief.
Neville suddenly sat up straight and reached a pudgy hand into his pants. "Bloody hell! I've lost my underwear again! Gran will kill me – she knitted them herself out of Burmese wool." He looked around desperately for help, but as he was unimportant to the plot, everyone ignored him.
Hermione managed to free her nose, leaving a trail of snot over the pages of her book. "Fine Harry, why – my, you have changed, haven't you?"
She happened to be right. The author was sick of Harry wearing raggedy jeans and thus spontaneous clothed him in a green shirt and black leather pants. "How have I changed?"
"Well, your skin has grown sallower. And your expression in somewhere between a disdainful sneer and an angry snarl. And your nose is suddenly elongated and rather hooked. And apparently you don't need your glasses anymore, and without them your eyes look more intense and menacing. And you're wearing a baseball cap that says 'Harry Snape' with tiny letters underneath saying '49.9% Slytherin.'"
"Whoops, you weren't supposed to see that." He whisked off the cap and stuffed it down the front of his pants, leaving a notable bulge.
Hermione wrinkled her brow. "You almost…look like someone…but I can't think who…"
Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll give you another clue." He pulled a 14x16 portrait out of his booksack. In the frame were three people: Lily Evans, cuddled up next to Severus Snape and…
"Mundungus Fletcher?" Don gasped.
"Oh, he just sort of wandered in at the wrong time. But look, Lily Evans and Snape used to be married," Harry explained.
Don was puzzled at the picture. "Why'd she marry that greasy git?"
Harry's eyes flashed. Then stopped. Then flashed again.
"What does that mean?" Don asked, pointing to Harry's eyes.
"It means a train's coming."
"Oh."
Sure enough, a train chose that moment to pass right outside the Fat Hall. They were forced to sit and wait until the deafening roar retreated into the night.
"Getting back to our discussion," Harry started awkwardly.
"Wait, don't tell me," Hermione said. "Lily Evans and Snape were married…and you look different… Oh, Harry, I'm almost positive it means something, but I don't know what!"
Harry sighed. He pulled out his birth certificate and taped it to the front of his shirt with duct tape. "Ok, ok, try again. Now what's different?"
Hermione studied him. "Well…you have hairy purple fungus growing out of your ears, but I didn't think it was polite to mention it in civilized conversation."
He reached up to feel his ears. "Oh shit."
"And I see that you grew 8.3 inches, shrank 20, grew 18, shrank 5, and then grew two tenths of an inch more."
Don gaped at her. Actually, if you must know, his jaw had stayed open the whole time because that look of bewilderment is a default setting for his face. "How did you know that?" he wondered.
"Don! You would know that too if you had read my list of five hundred books on all topics from developmental psychology to biochemistry to statistics to early renaissance music, and if you have read all of J. K. Rowling's wonderful books, including the sixth one, Harry Potter and the Noxious Odor, where it clearly states his strange grow spurts starting in the third line of the second paragraph on the tenth page. Why does no one here read? What's wrong with you people? There's no point to life!" She ran across the hall and flung herself out the window.
They were silent for all of two seconds before continuing. "So Don, you guess now."
"Um, I don't know."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" a voice across the room exploded. Up until that moment, the entire crowded hall had remained in silent contemplation, minding their own business until the author gave them lines and actions. Some of them had been staring at the steaming food in front of them, unable to even lift their arm and fill their plates until they were given leave to do so. But Snape was breaking the rule of not interrupting the author's careful contrived scene but shouting across the hall, "I'm his father!"
The entire hall was silent. They could hear a toilet flush someone in the castle. The pipes went clank-clank. Clank-clank. Clank-clank. Whoosh! And then it was silent.
Getting bored with the dramatic pause, the majority of the hall started stuffing their mouths with food and murmuring amongst themselves. But they became quiet instantly when they realized Harry had to had a monologue first. He stood up on the table, brushing dirt from his pants into Ginny's soup. She sniffed indignantly.
"Yes, you have heard him right. Due to a complicated spell that exists nowhere outside of the author's deranged mind, I am actually Severus Snape's son, charmed for sixteen years to look like James Potter. In fact, because of this spell, the genetic material from several people was combined, so I have several fathers: Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Seamus Finnigan, and Minerva McGonagall."
"Professor McGonagall is a woman!" Draco Malfoy shouted angrily.
Harry was enraged that his lines had been interrupted. "That's what you think," he retorted. Draco turned green and started rinsing out his mouth and retching simultaneously. Professor McGonagall looked apologetic and mouthed "Call you later?" across the room to the shocked Slytherin. Draco reached into his pocket and used a huge pair of gray wool grandma panties to wipe his nose upon. The initials N.F.L. were embroidered on the elastic at the top. Neville's eyes widened and he began to make bitter slashing motions with the butter knife in his hand, but he remained silent.
"Wow! So Lily Evans managed to incorporate all their genetic material into one being?" Ginny exclaimed. "Your mother rocks."
Harry blushed. He realized he looked rather cute when he did, so he blushed again.
"Oh, stop it, you," Draco murmured fondly.
"Actually, Lily Evans isn't my mother."
"Then who is?" Ginny asked.
Harry stood and pointed towards the staff table. "Albus Dumbledore!"
Professor Dumbledore, clothes in lime green robes and orange sunglasses that were tangled in his dreadlocks, stood and gushed, "My baby! Come to momma!"
Don shook his head. "I'm so confused."
The crowd started to leave, thinking the chapter was over. They wanted to get as much sleep as possible before seeing what other horrors the author had in store for them. "Wait, there's more!" Harry shrieked. They obediently sat down. "I have something to confess. I'm a hermaphrodite."
"Aren't we all?" a first-year Ravenclaw whispered.
"And Voldemort is my son!"
There was a loud crash as Hermione climbed back through the window, dragging several branches with her, and collapsed onto the floor. She had leaves in her hair and dirt on her face. She had also, unfortunately stepped in some Threstral manure. "Sorry, everybody, I forgot that the Fat Hall was ground level. Although it is rather silly of me, because Hogwarts, A History distinctly says so on page 198 on line 8 of the 14th paragraph." She looked around as she pulled an earthworm out of her hair and ate it. "So what'd I miss?"
[A/N: This is why I shouldn't be allowed to write humor. This is why I stick to dismal, depressing stories full of darkness and despair. Geez, I'm not good at this whole funniness thing.]