Marisu Muggleborne at Hogwarts
Marisu Muggleborne strode confidently into the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Even though she was a tender fourteen years
of age, she was already a Prefect, Head Girl and at the Top of her class. She even did a bit of student teaching on
the side, though everyone agreed that she was a shoe-in for the Minister of
Magic position if Cornelius Fudge ever tired of the post. The Sorting Hat had, naturally, been so
impressed with her innate Magick that it did the completely unexpected and
never-before-seen by placing her in all four houses at once! Naturally, everyone agreed this was the
correct course of action as she had all best features of the four
founders: courage and daring, steadfast
loyalty, superior intelligence and sly cunning.
She was a dainty girl, who was, nonetheless, tall for her age with a confident,
poised, yet devastatingly feminine, gait that riveted the attention of students
and professors alike. Her perfect curls
were as golden as a newly minted Galleon, and her eyes were the blue of
forget-me-nots. Her creamy, unblemished
skin was aglow with youthful vigour, and the roses in her cheeks would have put
the Royal Gardens at Vauxhall to shame.
Her figure was the zenith of nubile perfection, kept in shape by
rigorous gymnastic routines, ballet and modern dance.
She looked around the room with a sunny smile.
Professor Flitwick toppled from his perch at her gaze and had to be
revived by Professor McGonagall, who mused that the dear clever girl had
certainly taught her a thing or two about Transfiguration. The Head of Slytherin, Professor Severus
Snape, smoothed his black, oily mane while wearing a debonair expression. He favoured Flitwick with a pitying
smirk. Everyone knew Marisu liked him
best and it was simply a matter of waiting for her to reach the age of majority
before he whisked her away to a life of unbridled passion.
As she made her way across the room, the other students either waved cheerfully
or followed behind her at a respectful distance. Even the famous Harry Potter was enraptured by the beautiful
blonde enchantress. They had, when they
first met, discussed marriage, but alas, it was out of the question as Marisu
had turned out to be Harry's very own first cousin twice removed, but they
agreed to remain good friends.
Marisu smiled and waved at Hermione Granger, her very best friend. Poor Hermione! She had been SO worried about that last transfiguration exam
until Marisu had assisted her through the rough parts. Hermione had even told her that if it hadn't
been for Marisu's help, she would never have made a passing mark. "I wish I were as smart as YOU," Hermione
had declared, misty-eyed with gratitude.
A magnificent white owl glided into the Great Hall and headed straight for
Marisu on an unerring course. With a
graceful swoop, it landed on her outstretched arm and delivered a letter. Marisu took the letter and opened it while
the owl waited patiently to see if she had a reply. As she opened the missive, a chill slid down her back. "I feel a tremour in the Force," she intoned
solemnly before realizing this was a different dimension from the one in which
she had valiantly helped save the Alliance from certain destruction. "Never mind," she said to her nearest
admirer.
Draco Malfoy, delighted at being addressed by his idol, stopped plotting the
humiliation of Harry Potter and company long enough to genuflect at Marisu's
feet and kiss the hem of her robe.
"Flirt," she declared in a teasing, yet sophisticated tone.
She quickly scanned the letter then headed directly for the Headmaster, Albus
Dumbledore, who gave her a welcoming smile.
"Why yes, my dear what can I do for you?"
"I received this," the teenage witch declared.
She handed Dumbledore the letter, which was written on black-edged
parchment scented with Eau D'Eville.
"It-it's from…Voldemort," she declared, unafraid to speak the Dark
Lord's name. "He-he says that if I do
not elope with him immediately, he'll perform an Avada Kedavra Humongous
Maximus Curse that will kill 95.9 percent of the entire world's
population. Oh…Headmaster, whatever
shall I do? Reforming Lord Voldemort
with my pure and maidenly Kiss is just not on my schedule for this week. I was planning to win the Quidditch Cup for
England…that is, after I rewrite the Divinations Syllabus, go out with Sirius
Black to see a movie (I just happen to look just like his long-lost girlfriend,
you know, and I just couldn't refuse the poor dear), not to mention tame a
dragon for poor, dear Hagrid and teach Professor Snape a new potion I
invented."
Dumbledore smiled gently at his favourite student. He and the Hogwarts staff had already relied upon her
preternatural wisdom on so many occasions.
He stroked his long white beard gently and pondered her dilemma. Finally, he reached into a pocket of his
robe and withdrew a Time-turner. "You
might find this little device useful, my dear.
Please, use it wisely and give my regards to Tom. I am certain when you are finished with him,
he will revert to being a model citizen."
She kissed Dumbledore on the cheek before leaving the Great Hall. "Oh, thank you, Sir," she
chirped. A few minutes later, Marisu
Muggleborne had mounted her broom (a prototype Nimbus Firebolt 3001, the only
broom of its kind in the entire world) and was aloft and headed for Voldemort's
squalid lair. She had a mind to fix
that, though and was already cheerfully selecting her trousseau. Yes, indeed, He-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Named would
surely settle down once he had experienced wedded bliss.
The end…
(Really, you should never have let me begin…)