Errr thanx guys. That was sarcastic, if you couldn't notice. Four reviews. Why do I bother? Anyways, thank you to the ONLY people who reviewed: Jenny, Katya, kathryn, and LadyAna.

Disclaimer: Look, morons, Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Barbie belongs to Mattel, and Reese's Puffs belong to...err...Reese? All I got is the plot changes and crap. Enjoy, amigos...

Chapter Six: Have Yourself A Harry Little Christmas

Harry lay in his cot Christmas Eve, blubbering, of course, because he was a tragic little hero. Then suddenly, a ghost appeared before him. "O-o-o-o-ogy bo-o-o-o-ogy-y-y-y-y!" it moaned.

He shot up. "Wow, a ghost! Hey, are you also nearly cockless?"

The ghost's monocle dropped. "I beg your pardon?" it said, scandalized. "Nevermind, nevermind, I shall get straight to the point. Tonight you will be visited by three ghosts. If you do not change your penny-pinching ways, something te-e-e-e-e-errible shall happen!" It waved its arms about dramatically.

"That sounds kinda familiar," Harry said with narrow eyes.

"You are Ebenezer Scrooge, correct?"

"No, I'm Harry Potter."

"Damn! Hehe, sorry, my secretary must have created a mix up. The message I have for you is: that stone you have is very important. You must remember only one thing. And that thing is—"Suddenly the ghost was cut off by a piercing wail. The Bloody Baron floated through the wall and put his hands around the other ghost's neck. "You stole my mother's carrot soup recipe 700 years ago!" the Baron screeched.

"Ack!" The ghost choked. He managed to get out of the Baron's grip and flew through the wall, the Baron in hot pursuit.

"NOOOO!" Harry cried. "At the last second, you didn't get to tell me the important thing that could possibly save lives! Damn, that's cliché!" And he went back to sleep.

He awoke the next morning and immediately ran to see how many presents he had. But although every other boy in the dorm had a stick of gifts, he had none. He sat down and cried some more. Then he noticed that Ron's stack was nearly twice as high as the other boys'.

"Ron," he asked suspiciously, "did you steal my presents?"

"What? Me? No! I—I'm shocked that you would think that. Hahaha." He laughed nervously, then screamed, "I was framed! It was Neville!" and then jumped out the window.

Harry took all his presents from Ron's pile and said, "I hope for his sake he doesn't land in the thorn patches." Hermione had sent him a box of Reese's Puffs cereal and he wondered why, but there was no explanation. Ron had given him a makeup kit with a note attached: You have a horrible complexion. Hope this helps! Try some concealer on that scar! Harry rolled his eyes and chucked the kit out of the hole Ron had made in the window. Then he opened the next present. He couldn't read the note, bit since the whole thing was covered with blood he assumed it was from Rabid. It looked like the cross between a flute and a tobacco pipe.

As he sat down to cry some more because all his presents sucked, he noticed one last package on Ron's pile that said "for Harry". Lightening up, he opened it. He'd expected something good to compensate for the suckiness of the rest, but when he pulled out a lacy satin robe embroidered with flowers, he grunted in disappointment. He thought that it was from Ron as well, but then he found a note.

Your father left this in my possession before he died a gruesome, bloody death. Hibbage! I have no idea what the hell it does. You figure it out.

—Nancy.

Harry snorted. Count on Nancy to give him such a strange present. He shrugged and put the robe on. Just then Freddie and Jason walked in. They laughed. "Nice outfit, mate!" Jason said grinning. Harry looked down. Nothing magical had happened. "DAMMIT! NOT ONLY DO ALL MY PRESENTS SUCK, BUT NOW I KNOW THAT MY FATHER USED TO OWN A FLOWERY SATIN ROBE!" Harry cried. Freddie and Jason rolled their eyes. "Is Ron here?" Freddie asked.

"No, he jumped out the window," Harry said.

"Oh. Well then, see you at the Christmas Feast, mate," Freddie said as they left. Again with the feasts, Harry thought angrily. Then Ron strode in, a large bump on his head. He was covered with thorns and limping slightly. In his hand he carried the make-up kit Harry had thrown out the window. He surveyed Harry. "Looking good, chappy!" he said in approval. Harry hurriedly took off his robe.

"I landed in a patch of thorns and then the kit I got for you fell on my head," Ron explained. "How'd that happen?"

"Oh, er, must have been Peeves, har de har har har," Harry lied nervously.

That night, after the feast, Harry was sitting on a dead elf in the common room doing his Transfiguration homework, which was propped up on a fatter elf corpse. He was transfiguring McGonagall's parking tickets into dollar bills. Suddenly an owl flew pecked him in the, er, backside. Harry screamed in a very girly way and knocked over the dead elves. The owl rolled its eyes and held out a package, which Harry took with a shaking hand. Once the owl was gone, he opened it. Inside was a note and another robe. Harry groaned.

Sorry, Harry. Orca! I put the wrong robe into your box! That one was for my girlfriend. Please send it back. I've sent you your father's robe, but I'm still not sure what it does.

--Nancy

Harry took out the new robe. It was large, black, dusty and patched, and when he shook it out, a dead house elf fell out. But he definitely preferred it to the other one. "Ron," he yelled into the dorm, "I need that robe back."

Ron appeared in of the doorway, looking disappointed as he handed back the lacy robe, which Harry had lent him. "Fine," he said, pouting. He went off to find an owl. Harry put the robe on to try it out, and when Ron came back in, he took one look at Harry and said nervously, "I-I'm sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here!" and scampered off. Harry scratched his head. "What's up with him?" he asked to no one in particular.

He walked by the window to get to his chest of drawers. Then he turned around and ran back to the window, looking into its glassy surface at his reflection. "No—effin'—way!" he cried, slamming his fists down. He was staring at his reflection, although it was not his normal reflection. It was—

"Simon?!" Harry cried. Yes, he was dressed in robes, but his body and face was that of the American Idol judge. No wonder Ron had run away from him, he was afraid he'd diss his clothes! Dismissing the fact that his father had this robe long before American Idol had debuted, and that by all rights it was 1991 which was a decade or so before anyone had ever heard of Simon, Harry ran around jumping for joy and creating evil cunning plans.

"MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Harry cried as Ron came in. "Uhhh, Mr. Cowell, are you OK?"

Harry was about to answer him and tell him that he was really Harry and that his father's cloak turned people into Simon, when he had a better idea. "I'm marvelous, it's your fashion sense you should worry about," Harry answered in that generic smooth english accent.

Ron ran sobbing from the room. Harry chortled, "Har de har har har! I'm gonna have some fun with this..." Miles away, a young Simon Cowell suddenly turned into a wimpy boy with black hair and a funny pear-shaped scar. "This hair," he said, looking at his new self in the mirror, "could definitely use some moisturizer."

Harry had taken off the cloak and hidden it well by the time Ron had come back into the room. "Harry!" Ron sobbed. "You'll never believe what just happ—"

"You saw Simon Cowell in the dorm and he dissed your sense of fashion?" Ron's eyes widened and Harry chuckled inwardly in a smug way. Mwahahahaha, the teachers will never see this coming! he thought.

That night, after a Christmas feast of Mistletoe berries that had nearly everyone blocked up, Harry went on a quest to the library with his new cloak in tow, after taking some MagiLax, of course. His goal? To get into the restricted section. The teachers always insisted that this section of the library was restricted because it had books about dark magic, but Harry knew the truth from Jason, who was of course an expert on horny teens and their secret stashes: it had a huge stash of certain mags supplied from Pornogon Alley. Harry was determined to find it, even though the author had made the point that he was eleven and not supposed to be perverted till around fourth year.

Of course, Madame Pince, the librarian, had gone to sleep long ago and the library was nearly empty. He strutted into the restricted section in his Simon disguise. It was rather easy to find the stash of nudies, they must be popular with the professors. He opened one up and stared, but then the girl inside started making some moaning noises and Harry quickly dropped the book as the alarm went off. "Dammit!" he swore as he ran like hell into some weird abandoned classroom. He could hear that ugly caretaker guy walking around in the library, chuckling and talking to his deranged cat.

Harry looked around the abandoned classroom. There was a big hole in the middle, and when Harry looked down he could see into it. It was very deep and he could see some weird hairy people tunneling around down there. "Wow!" he said in delight. "I've found a secret race of molemen!" But then he was distracted away from the molemen by the large plastic pink mirror against the far wall of the room.

He went up to it. The word "Barbie" was engraved into every inch of it, at least the inches of it that were not already covered by plastic roses and fairies. He drew his breath. "Barbie Accessory Number 19665! The Life-size Magic Rose-fairy Mirror!" He went over to the mirror and looked into it. But he did not see himself. He did not even see Simon Cowell. Instead he saw a Barbie with pink hair and fairy wings.

"Hee-hee!" it giggled at him. Harry gaped. "Ha-a-a-a-a-a-arry!" it cried.

"Yeah?"

"This is the mir-r-r-r-r-ror of Erise-e-e-e-e-ed....Heeheee, that's desire spelled backwards, heehee, isn't that like so-o-o-o-o-o cool?" She laughed in a ditzy way. "OK, like what you do is you, like, look into it and then you see what you want most of all in life. Isn't that like so-o-o-o-o-o awesome, Herb?"

"Harry."

"Oh, haha, sorry, blonde moment," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"But you're not blonde," Harry pointed out. The ditzy fairy suddenly became serious. "Well, if you're gonna be all logical and stuff, I might as well go surfing with Ken on the beach." And suddenly the background in the mirror changed and she was standing with Ken and a surfboard on a beach.

"Let's go, Keith."

"Ken," the doll corrected.

"Haha, sorry, blonde moment!"

Ken caught Harry's eye and shrugged, following the Barbie to the waters. The images in the mirror starwiped. Harry now saw his reflection, but he was not alone. Strangers surrounded him, taking pictures and holding out microphones and handing him awards. His chest puffed up with pride. "Fame, fame, fame," he cried giddily, twirling around. Pigs flew, and fireworks went off. Then Harry supposed the noise was attracting Filch, so he went to bed.

He came back again the next night, making sure to insult the ghosts that floated around randomly about their lack of personality. Several even cried. He even told Ron about the cloak and what it did and brought him with along one time, but after hearing Ron cry out "I'm wearing designer jackets from the winter catalogue, Harry!" and such, Harry decided to go alone.

Then on the fourth night, Harry came in and looked in the pink plastic mirror and received a shock. "Kabob!" a voice cried. Harry clutched at his heart. Pain shot up and down his left arm. When he had revived from his heart attack, Nancy was leaning over him.

When Harry had revived from his second heart attack, Nancy said, "Simon, what are you doing here? This is a bad mirror. Bad bad bad. Fribbit! Don't come here anymore, got that?"

Harry nodded. After having multiple heart attacks in this room, he never wanted to come again. Then to add emphasis, he said smoothly, "This décor shocks and appalls me. Shame on your interior designer." Then he ran away before Nancy could figure out he wasn't really Simon.

At the end of Christmas, Hermione had returned from vacation with her parents. Harry and Ron inquired why she'd gotten them both boxes of Reese's Puffs for Christmas.

"Well, I was watching movies about crime-solving kids, and they all have a special vehicle and a snack food. So, I decided in order for us to be crime-solvers, we need to endorse a snack food," she said bossily.

"Like Scooby-Doo?" Harry asked in perplexity, but Ron was already studying the contents of his cereal box.

"This stuff?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose. "It looks like dog kibble. And what kinda dumb slogan is that?! Hermione, you're bonkers."

"Don't worry, Ron!" Harry cried. "Reese's Puffs are swirling with that peanut butter chocolatey taste!" Suddenly everyone in the dining hall was digging in to boxes of Reese's Puffs, and Nancy danced on top of the Head Trough, crying, "The Reese's Puffs taste is what it is!" Then Nancy sat down in thought, trying to understand what the hell that meant.

Ron also got into it, and after a fun sing along to some song with altered words, everything calmed down and got back to normal. Harry and Ron munched on their cereal and Hermione sat there, looking smug.

The days passed uneventfully. No teachers burst into fireballs, no more sightings of the three-headed dog. Harry stuck true to his word and never went back to see the pink mirror. Then one day the crime-solving trio received. It bore the message: Grrrrr dragon egg ahhhhh hatched come quick blooodddd. And it was covered with weasel brains. Harry and his friends looked at each other and said some naughty words that I can't repeat here because then I'd have to change the rating to R. Then they quickly shoved bowls of Reese's Puffs into their mouths and skedaddled to Rabid's.

Wow, I think you could almost call that a cliffhanger! A rare thing in my parodies. Anyways, I'm gonna start HI SKOOL (!!!!) come Monday so updates will be less frequent. I will definitely try and finish this thing and maybe over winter break, spring break, or next summer I'll be able to do Chamber of Secrets. Ta ta for now! And as always, please review. Not reviewing makes me think you don't like my story, sniffle sniffle.

Review Now!!! Didi mau!!!