A/N: This is just an Omake to Clell's amazing The Elder Sect. If you haven't read this yet, stop now, and go read it. Clell has Harry being raised by Samantha from Bewitched. Amazing stuff, and what led to this.
Basically, during the Troll scene, Harry gives the female Troll a perfectly matched outfit and shoes, that causes OTHER women to compliment her on the fit and how it complements her color. Frankly, this just proves how sadistic Clell is, as he basically dooms Harry even worse than the prophecy or Dumbledore ever could.
In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):
"I own nothing, I make nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! Nothing!"
Sirius was casually walking the halls of Hogwarts, heading to the room the male prefect had directed him to, checking in on his godson. Something about Harry wasn't allowed to leave. As he got nearer, he saw a line of attractive females impatiently waiting for something, comparing binders and giggling.
'Must be career counseling day or something.' thought Sirius remembering the horrors of learning he would be expected to "contribute to our society and get a steady, paying job'.
With a shiver, Sirius shook like a wet dog, much preferring his current role as foot warmer, and pool boy for Samantha's lovey sister.
As he walked along, he noticed a starry eyed Draco standing in line, eagerly gesturing and talking about Italian Corinthian leather with coordinating something or other.
Goodness, but this was a long line.
Finally he came to the room he had been searching for, just as the door opened and a flushed young witch came bounci...bouncy...bouncy...bouncy...bouncy...
Sirius shook his head trying to clear the distracting images. Err, well that witch certainly seemed happy, and judging by the hug she had given Sirius, quite aroused.
He started to knock on the door, when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder, spinning him about.
"No cutsies!" Hissed a stunning blonde, shaking a small numbered slip of paper in his face. "I've been waiting in this line for two days for my time with Harry, and nobody is getting any before I do!"
Sirius blinked. 'Thank Merlin! I was so worried that the Elder blood would overpower his inner Marauder! James would be so proud!' thought Sirius with a salacious grin.
With a quick wiggle and twitch of his wand, he conjured a steaming pizza box behind his back, and a delivery cap upon his head. Showing the witch the box, he explained, "Sorry, ma'am. I have a delivery for Mr. Potter here. Lad's got to keep his strength up for all you ladies after all. Wouldn't want to wear the chap out would you?"
The blonde gasped covering her mouth, as tears sprung to her eyes. "Heavens, we can't risk that! The man is a godsend! A treasure to women everywhere! You go right on in, um, could you save me a slice though? For afters? I wanted to look my best for my time with him, so I haven't been eating for the past two days."
Sirius jaw nearly dropped, before smoothly assuring her he would be glad to save her a slice with extra sausage.
No reason Sirius couldn't cash in on a witches' happiness and afterglow after all. In Sirius' mind there was no such thing as sloppy seconds, merely proven wells. He thought for a moment about Samantha's sister, and wondered if she would be in the mood for a pizza buffet.
Sirius smiled as he entered the room, setting the pizza box on a convenient side table with a purse already on it, calling out to Harry. "Nice setup you've got here Prongslet, lots of mirrors, and soft jazz playing. Excellent lighting, I have to admit I am impressed. Bit much for me, I've always preferred the classics myself. Simple and cheap, the old pizza delivery wizard has given me great success." chided Sirius, fondly remembering past house witches and exclusive private parties he had crashed.
"Sirius! Help me! I can't take any more of this!" whimpered Harry from the chair directly in front of the mirrors.
Sirius shook his head, raw talent and youth were all fine and good, but experience and staying power were what won the witch. "No worries pup! I'll be glad to sub in for you while you take a break. Which witch are you working on now?"
"Oh, no you don't Mr. Black! I have been patiently waiting for my time with Mr. Potter here, and I will not accept your shoddy wand work, and lack of attention on my delicates!" Hissed Minerva McGonagal.
Sirius looked to the witch coming out behind the changing screen and his godson, who he now realized was literally chained to the dingy chair facing the bank of multiple mirrors.
Sirius turned slightly green, whined as he swallowed a bit of bile, and proceeded to pass out in shock.
Harry merely hung his head, and whimpered.
"Now Mr. Potter, I think I would like a lighter shade of pink here, not too much rose, but with a bit of opalescence. Make sure you get the lacework right, and please make sure the straps aren't unflattering to my body type." explained the Deputy Headmistress, as she turned back and forth in front of the mirrors, examining her sun dress as critically as any NEWT transfiguration project.
Harry shook his head.
Why had he ever listened and given that damnable troll an outfit. No wonder Darren always gave Samantha a gift card, and scheduled his business trips around the major sales.
A/N: Let's face it. A wizard who could give a woman the perfect outfit with matching shoes with merely a thought? The poor bastard would never see the light of day again.