[Welcome to my fic! Notice: This is a parody fic with a plotline. For those of you in the PPC, as I am, please do not fear the character's Mary-Sue-dom. Read on-- the parody becomes clear. Oh, and PLEASE read and review! Concrit is welcome and pleaded for. Unspecific "I HATE UR STORY IT SUX SO MUCH!!!!ONE!!! will be deleted, so add some specific insults and I'll be fine with it ^-^]
Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any characters or places in this story except for Carrie Smith and her family. All characters and places and events from the Potterverse belong to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter One: The Gratuitous Adjective-Filled Description
The oddest year of Carrie SmithÕs life began with a large ungainly owl flying into their kitchen window. Carrie looked up from where she was doing her summer school math homework and groaned. Her six-year-old neighbor liked putting birdseed on the SmithÕs windows, causing scores of birds to stun themselves against the glass. The parents of the boy had refused to believe the SmithsÕ stories, so the brat went undisciplined. It had become a household choreÑtake out the trash, make the beds, clean up the pile of unconscious birds. Carrie grinned as she walked outside, remembering the time when the brat had messed up and spilled it on his front lawn. The birds had destroyed his motherÕs precious geraniums like something out of Hitchcock.
The fowl victim this time was a barn owl with a broken wing, one hardy enough to not be stunned by the collision. It was clearly tired, and she guessed from its plaintive caws that it was starving. Carrie scraped some of the birdseed off the window and tossed it at the owl. But the owl would not be appeased. It stretched out its leg until Carrie could see a letter attached to its leg. iHow strange,/i she thought, and took the letter. She turned it over, and seeing that it was addressed to her, raised her eyebrows. iWeird carrier pigeon. And who wants to send one to me?/i she thought, bemused but excited.
Dear Ms. Smith,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a Sixth Year student. You will be pleased to note that you follow in a long line of American exchange students, as well as late acceptees. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than August 10th.
Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress.
Enclosed in the letter was also a list of supplies she would need as well as small handwritten note with a nickel taped to it. The note read, "On August 15th, please touch this nickel" -- it was August 8th-- "and you will be conveyed to a station for other Muggle-born students accepted at Hogwarts. Please reply promptly by way of this owl. He knows his way back to Hogwarts."
Carrie stared at the letter for a little while, puzzling over who had engineered such an elaborate practical joke. SheÕd always been a little paranoid, and suddenly she felt she had much more reason to be. She carried the letter inside and sat down at the kitchen table again, turning half her mind back to her math homework. Part of her puzzlement was that the information on the letter referred to her as a ÒSixth-Year.Ó She wasnÕt in sixth grade, thoughÑin fact, sheÕd just started her sophomore year of high school at Lowell. She looked at the envelope; it had a return address only of ÒHogwarts School of Witchcraft and WizardryÓ, but it was postmarked from England. Who in iEngland/i wanted to pull a prank on her? What was going on?
Whatever it was, it seemed harmless. She couldnÕt worry about it right now. She put the letter in her backpack, and returned whole-heartedly to algebra, unknowing that in a few short hours all hell was going to break loose.
When her mother returned home from her managerial job at the supermarket, Carrie met her at the door and handed her the letter. She was completely unprepared for her motherÕs reaction: a squeal of glee. ÒOh, I never thought this could happen to my own daughter!Ó she gushed. In fact, as Carrie watched in deep confusion, forty-year-old Ann Smith began to dance around the kitchen. To CarrieÕs ear, it sounded as if she was singing ÒNot a squid, not a moggie, not a squid,Ó to the tune of ÒMy Bonnie Lies Over The Rainbow.Ó Ann stopped where she was and turned to her daughter. ÒOh, but I never explained this to you, did I?Ó she said, raising both her hands dramatically. Carrie sighed; this was her motherÕs signal that she was going to tell some long drawn out story, probably only half-true. Ann beamed as Carrie collapsed into a kitchen chair and waited patiently for the story.
"Many years ago," Ann began, motioning even more wildly, "I was not who you know now. I belonged to a world of magic and glory, of unicorns and dragons, of elves and hobbitsÑ"
Carrie cut her off here. ÒHobbits? Come on, Mom. Jeez.Ó
Ann sighed, "No, not actually hobbits or elves. You were always far too literal. But still a very magical world! And in this world, my sister was a mighty witch, and my brother was a mighty wizard. But I, alas, spent my days pining over my lack of magic, for I was doomed to have none. I was what they calledÉ"she paused for emphasis..."a Squib."
ÒA Squid?Ó
"No, no, you silly girl, a Squib! A Squib! Spelled with a b, honestly! Ann made a visible attempt to regain her composure and the thread of her epic tale. And I felt so heartbroken that I would forever lack this vital part of my life that I swore to never have contact with the magical world again. I became a Muggle." Carrie opened her mouth to pose another question, but her mother waved it shut. "A non-magical person. I forsook the magical life of power and glory, but I prayed that one day my offspring would have such mighty powers. That is why I named you the portentous name of Cayrolynah."
ÒWHAT?Ó Carrie said in bemusement, bringing the epic to a screeching halt. ÒMy name is Carrie, Mom, remember? I realize it may be hard, considering youÕve only lived with me for fourteen years, but my name isnÕt ÔCayrolynahÕ. IÕve seen the birth certificate. What are you talking about, Mom? Honestly, sometimes your stories get too far out there!Ó She laughed. ÒCayrolynahÉÓ
Her mother looked very put out, drooping her shoulders. ÒAll right then,Ó she sighed, ÒSo maybe I wasnÕt born into wizardry. Maybe I just heard about it from that gossipy neighbor of ours. I think, darling, you have no taste for a good story.Ó She paused. ÒEven so, I think IÕll still call you Cayrolynah. DoesnÕt it have a nice ring to it?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Carrie sighed, ÒNo, it doesnÕt. And you believed Mrs. Greenbaumer? Why in heavenÕs name did you do that? YouÕre such a dork sometimes, Mom.Ó
ÒWell, look at this!Ó Ann said triumphantly, brandishing the letter. ÒDonÕt you consider it ironclad proof? Oh, I always knew your emerald green eyes would see far, but I never guessed this farÉÓ
Her daughter, by this point, was sitting with her mouth hanging open. ÒEmerald-green?Ó she mouthed, unable to speak. ÒMy eyesÑÒ She was beginning to feel slightly nervous. What was going on with her mom? Her eyes were hazel at best, but most days she considered them a moldy brown. By no stretch of imagination could they be considered Òemerald.Ó Her mother had always been a little eccentricÑok, very oddÑbut sheÕd never mistaken her daughterÕs eye color or name before. Carrie supposed her mother had finally gone a little too far off the deep end. In fact, from what her mother appeared to believe right now, it looked as if sheÕd gone right past the deep end and gone scuba-diving in the EarthÕs core.
Whatever was happening, it was something unquestionably insane!
Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any characters or places in this story except for Carrie Smith and her family. All characters and places and events from the Potterverse belong to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter One: The Gratuitous Adjective-Filled Description
The oddest year of Carrie SmithÕs life began with a large ungainly owl flying into their kitchen window. Carrie looked up from where she was doing her summer school math homework and groaned. Her six-year-old neighbor liked putting birdseed on the SmithÕs windows, causing scores of birds to stun themselves against the glass. The parents of the boy had refused to believe the SmithsÕ stories, so the brat went undisciplined. It had become a household choreÑtake out the trash, make the beds, clean up the pile of unconscious birds. Carrie grinned as she walked outside, remembering the time when the brat had messed up and spilled it on his front lawn. The birds had destroyed his motherÕs precious geraniums like something out of Hitchcock.
The fowl victim this time was a barn owl with a broken wing, one hardy enough to not be stunned by the collision. It was clearly tired, and she guessed from its plaintive caws that it was starving. Carrie scraped some of the birdseed off the window and tossed it at the owl. But the owl would not be appeased. It stretched out its leg until Carrie could see a letter attached to its leg. iHow strange,/i she thought, and took the letter. She turned it over, and seeing that it was addressed to her, raised her eyebrows. iWeird carrier pigeon. And who wants to send one to me?/i she thought, bemused but excited.
Dear Ms. Smith,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a Sixth Year student. You will be pleased to note that you follow in a long line of American exchange students, as well as late acceptees. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than August 10th.
Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress.
Enclosed in the letter was also a list of supplies she would need as well as small handwritten note with a nickel taped to it. The note read, "On August 15th, please touch this nickel" -- it was August 8th-- "and you will be conveyed to a station for other Muggle-born students accepted at Hogwarts. Please reply promptly by way of this owl. He knows his way back to Hogwarts."
Carrie stared at the letter for a little while, puzzling over who had engineered such an elaborate practical joke. SheÕd always been a little paranoid, and suddenly she felt she had much more reason to be. She carried the letter inside and sat down at the kitchen table again, turning half her mind back to her math homework. Part of her puzzlement was that the information on the letter referred to her as a ÒSixth-Year.Ó She wasnÕt in sixth grade, thoughÑin fact, sheÕd just started her sophomore year of high school at Lowell. She looked at the envelope; it had a return address only of ÒHogwarts School of Witchcraft and WizardryÓ, but it was postmarked from England. Who in iEngland/i wanted to pull a prank on her? What was going on?
Whatever it was, it seemed harmless. She couldnÕt worry about it right now. She put the letter in her backpack, and returned whole-heartedly to algebra, unknowing that in a few short hours all hell was going to break loose.
When her mother returned home from her managerial job at the supermarket, Carrie met her at the door and handed her the letter. She was completely unprepared for her motherÕs reaction: a squeal of glee. ÒOh, I never thought this could happen to my own daughter!Ó she gushed. In fact, as Carrie watched in deep confusion, forty-year-old Ann Smith began to dance around the kitchen. To CarrieÕs ear, it sounded as if she was singing ÒNot a squid, not a moggie, not a squid,Ó to the tune of ÒMy Bonnie Lies Over The Rainbow.Ó Ann stopped where she was and turned to her daughter. ÒOh, but I never explained this to you, did I?Ó she said, raising both her hands dramatically. Carrie sighed; this was her motherÕs signal that she was going to tell some long drawn out story, probably only half-true. Ann beamed as Carrie collapsed into a kitchen chair and waited patiently for the story.
"Many years ago," Ann began, motioning even more wildly, "I was not who you know now. I belonged to a world of magic and glory, of unicorns and dragons, of elves and hobbitsÑ"
Carrie cut her off here. ÒHobbits? Come on, Mom. Jeez.Ó
Ann sighed, "No, not actually hobbits or elves. You were always far too literal. But still a very magical world! And in this world, my sister was a mighty witch, and my brother was a mighty wizard. But I, alas, spent my days pining over my lack of magic, for I was doomed to have none. I was what they calledÉ"she paused for emphasis..."a Squib."
ÒA Squid?Ó
"No, no, you silly girl, a Squib! A Squib! Spelled with a b, honestly! Ann made a visible attempt to regain her composure and the thread of her epic tale. And I felt so heartbroken that I would forever lack this vital part of my life that I swore to never have contact with the magical world again. I became a Muggle." Carrie opened her mouth to pose another question, but her mother waved it shut. "A non-magical person. I forsook the magical life of power and glory, but I prayed that one day my offspring would have such mighty powers. That is why I named you the portentous name of Cayrolynah."
ÒWHAT?Ó Carrie said in bemusement, bringing the epic to a screeching halt. ÒMy name is Carrie, Mom, remember? I realize it may be hard, considering youÕve only lived with me for fourteen years, but my name isnÕt ÔCayrolynahÕ. IÕve seen the birth certificate. What are you talking about, Mom? Honestly, sometimes your stories get too far out there!Ó She laughed. ÒCayrolynahÉÓ
Her mother looked very put out, drooping her shoulders. ÒAll right then,Ó she sighed, ÒSo maybe I wasnÕt born into wizardry. Maybe I just heard about it from that gossipy neighbor of ours. I think, darling, you have no taste for a good story.Ó She paused. ÒEven so, I think IÕll still call you Cayrolynah. DoesnÕt it have a nice ring to it?Ó
ÒNo,Ó Carrie sighed, ÒNo, it doesnÕt. And you believed Mrs. Greenbaumer? Why in heavenÕs name did you do that? YouÕre such a dork sometimes, Mom.Ó
ÒWell, look at this!Ó Ann said triumphantly, brandishing the letter. ÒDonÕt you consider it ironclad proof? Oh, I always knew your emerald green eyes would see far, but I never guessed this farÉÓ
Her daughter, by this point, was sitting with her mouth hanging open. ÒEmerald-green?Ó she mouthed, unable to speak. ÒMy eyesÑÒ She was beginning to feel slightly nervous. What was going on with her mom? Her eyes were hazel at best, but most days she considered them a moldy brown. By no stretch of imagination could they be considered Òemerald.Ó Her mother had always been a little eccentricÑok, very oddÑbut sheÕd never mistaken her daughterÕs eye color or name before. Carrie supposed her mother had finally gone a little too far off the deep end. In fact, from what her mother appeared to believe right now, it looked as if sheÕd gone right past the deep end and gone scuba-diving in the EarthÕs core.
Whatever was happening, it was something unquestionably insane!
