Harry's Revenge

Disclaimer:  This is my rather embarrassing attempt to write a parody based on the books by J.K. Rowling.

Summary:  This is a parody of the Harry Potter books.  One night, I was extremely bored, and in the mood to write.  The rest is history.

Chapter 4

The Christmas holidays passed quietly, or as quietly as could be expected.  Harry trusted no one, and was becoming more and more paranoid; believing various groups of people to be plotting against him, even accusing inanimate objects of whispering behind their hands.

Quite obviously, and for good reason, Dumbledore was becoming worried about Harry.  During mealtimes, he could be seen staring openly at Harry, his gaze seeming to penetrate Harry's exterior, and stare into his mind; something that Harry found to be quite annoying. 

"Beat it, you old crackpot," Harry said when Dumbledore asked Harry how he was feeling.

"Harry, I really think we need to have a chat," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Why the freaking hell do you have a twinkle in your eye?"  Harry asked, becoming quite irritated, and beginning to feel the old anger bubbling through his veins.

"Oh, I don't know…  I just might have a little something up my sleeve," Dumbledore said vaguely as he walked away from Harry.

"Whatever," Harry said as he stalked angrily away.

Now that Harry was being avoided by Ron and Hermione, Harry began neglecting his studies and spending every waking moment devising a master plan to bestow his revenge upon Ginny—the wench who stole his man.

On this January evening, Harry could be scribbling madly on a bit of parchment, a crazed glint in his eye.

"No!  Janet, that won't work!"  He screamed, as he received many strange looks from his peers.

"Who is he talking to?" Ron muttered to Hermione.

Sadly, Hermione replied, "His quill.  I've seen him throw 'her' down the hall when she tried to 'lead him astray' on the way to class."

Throwing a glare over his shoulder, Harry roared, "What are you looking at?!  This discussion is between ME and JANET!"

The heads in the common room shook their heads in unison as the murmured to each other about Harry's loss of sanity.

"We don't need them," Harry muttered to his quill in a low voice, as he gingerly carried it to his dormitory.

*~*

The next afternoon, Harry sauntered into Defense Against the Dark Arts ten minutes late.  "Sorry—er--*professor*," Harry said suspiciously as he eyed his teacher.  "Who are *you* anyway?  You're not that hag, Figg."

"Mr. Potter, please have a seat," the mysterious professor said.

Defying him for a moment before consenting, Harry began making his way towards an empty seat near the back of the room.

"Ah, ah, Mr. Potter.  Up here with me, please."

"Damn," breathed as he flopped into the seat nearest the teacher.

"As I was saying," the teacher continued cheerfully, "Professor Figg is currently indisposed, and I am filling in for her—"

"For crying out loud!  Just cut the crap and tell us who you are!" Harry interrupted.

Smiling at Harry, the professor paused as he pulled out a piece of parchment and briefly wrote on it.  "Excuse me.  Ah yes, I am Professor Sanabubo."

Though the rest of class remained reverent, Harry snickered.  "What kind of a name is that?" he said maliciously.

"Yes, well… My father gave me the name… I always… liked it…" Professor Sanabubo answered, losing his thread of thought as he yet again scribbled at his parchment.  The smile faded gradually from Harry's face as he watched the professor write.

"What are you doing?" Harry demanded.

"Harry…" Ron quietly warned.

"Why don't you just shove it up your—" Harry started as he turned to face the red-headed weasel.

"All right, all right, class," the professor said mildly, hushing the class' sudden uproar.  "Now, Harry, you have a right to know what I'm doing, of course.  I'm in the process of writing a book about young witches and wizards, and thought I could use this teaching opportunity to do a bit of research on younger generations."

This answer seemed to satisfy Harry, for he kept his mouth shut and turned away from Ron.  Harry sat the rest of the period spending his time gazing meaningfully at "Janet," which was starting to worry Ron and Hermione.