The next day, as Harry, Ron and Hermione were strolling idly down the halls of Hogwarts, Harry's eye was caught by the new American transfer student, Mary Anne Tereza Andora Kamikaze Glitterina Katrina Ivanova Sue. Mary had an ivory face and emerald eyes. She knew that if she wore any clothing it would not only be entirely inappropriate for Hogwarts, but that a good five sentences would also have to be lavished upon it, so she wore nothing at all. She capered nimbly and nakedly through the halls. Mary was considerate that way. All the boys in the hallway stared at Mary Sue. They stared because she was batshit insane. The girls tried to be more discrete and avoided unnecessary interaction – though Hermione had once woken to find Mary trying to plunge a hairbrush into her scalp. Mary Sue believed in violent guerilla makeovers.
"Oh, shit," muttered Harry, "we have to hide. It's that weird girl who thinks she's my sister."
But it was too late. Mary had already begun prancing her mad prance towards the trio.
"Hit there!," she exclaimed, "aren't I pretty? How are you Harry? Or should I say baby brother? I would be saying it humorously, as you are, of course, my twin. Why are you still unattractive Hermione?"
"Please go away," said Hermione, "you are deranged."
"You're just saying that because I'm Voldemort's daughter! Don't hold me responsible for that... whatevers... of my father!"
"You're Voldemort's daughter?" screeched Ron. "Kill her, Harry! Kill her! She's an evildoer!"
"That makes no sense whatsoever," replied Hermione.
"What? You think just because he's a Dark Lord, he can't have children? That's not to say that I don't hate him. Oh boy, I hate him! I can clearly see every time he kills someone! In fact, I see all dark deeds, everywhere. Dark deeds in the morning, dark deeds in the evening, dark deeds at suppertime. When Voldemort's your father you can see dark deeds anytime. That's why I've decided to take over teaching Dark Arts class."
"But I thought you were my sister," said Harry.
"I am Harry-Fairy-Bo-Berry. We've been together since birth! I saved you from Uncle Vernon's attempts to rape you!"
"Umm, Uncle Vernon never did that. I don't think he'd ever consider that," Harry pointed out, "it would be sodomy, which would conflict with his predilection for normalcy."
"Oh, big brother," replied Mary Anne Tereza, shaking her head sadly, "you have so much to learn when it comes to the ways of the world."
"So he tried to rape Harry and Harry just didn't know about it?" Ron began eating something. Ron always ate when situations stretched his fragile mental abilities.
Hermione snickered. "This is all just too The Myth of Repressed Memories for words. I seem to recall The Courage to Heal says that even if you have no memories of abuse, if you feel like something happened then it probably did. Is it that kind of thing?"
"That's right," said Mary Sue, "see, being Voldemort's daughter doesn't make me stupid."
Hermione snorted. "Great. Today I feel like Marie of Romania."
"And why would being Voldemort's daughter make you stupid? I think Voldemort's more of an evil genius than just your average stupid villain," stated Harry. "I seem to recall that the first thing that I heard about him was that he was 'great.' Terrible, but great."
"You just feel that way because you need to defend me. Because I'm your sister."
"Is that to say that Voldemort is my father? Voldemort isn't my father. James Potter is my father. There's even the uncanny physical resemblance to validate that."
"What?" said Mary.
"Here. Let me work it out," offered Hermione. "Harry's father is James Potter. We are absolutely certain of this fact. Likewise, we are certain of the fact that siblings – not step-siblings, but genuine siblings, which twins have to be - are defined by having the same parents. Therefore, you can be Harry's twin sister, but not Voldemort's daughter. Or you can be Voldemort's daughter, but not Harry's twin sister. Realize, of course, that both these relationships are bizarre and unsubstantiated delusions."
"I am Voldemort's daughter!" shrieked Mary Sue. "I am, and I always will be! I'm Voldemort's daughter, I'm Voldemort's daughter, I'm Voldemort's daughter! Spawn of Voldemort, Voldemort spawn!"
Suddenly, Pansy Parkinson, the bob haired enemy of all mislead American transfer students stormed towards Mary, and, with a piercing scream announced, "You will not take the Dark Lord's name in vain!" She picked Mary up by her scrawny naked heels, and tossed her out of a window, which had been conveniently left open. Teachers and passerbys averted their eyes gently, secure in the knowledge that while the punishment had been a harsh one, it had been entirely necessary.
"Don't get any ideas about us being on the same side, now," declared Pansy, as she lit an imported cigarillo, and brought it slowly to her crimson painted lips. "It's a little known fact that Slytherins hate American transfer students even more than we hate Gryffindors. Nothing personal. And don't mention to Draco that I was of any aid in the matter."
"You smoke!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. Poor Ron had been so wrapped up in the act of eating that he had entirely missed the commotion. "That's really bad for you, you know - you shouldn't put yourself in a situation where you might die prematurely!"
"Grow up," replied Pansy, as she swept down the hall, embers flying wildly behind her.
"I have a headache," stated Harry wearily.
"Oh my God!" replied Ron, "Voldemort is coming! Oh mercy protect us, Voldemort is coming!"
"For heaven's sakes," quipped Hermione bitterly "Wil – Voldemort comes every single year. And he always comes at the same time. He's not going to change his pattern this year just to be belligerent. I should think that it's already been proved sufficiently that he's a creature of habit. So yes, he is coming, but he's not coming now."
"But Harry's scar hurts." noted Ron.
"Oh, Harry," muttered Hermione, "I'm so sick of the whole headache bit. Here," she dropped her hand into her satchel and withdrew a case of Advil, "it's extra strength. It should get rid of most migraines. I really have to study." She swept away, with only some of her hair's excess frizz flying wildly behind her.
Meanwhile, outside in the courtyard, animal rights activists began pelting Mary Sue with rocks for having a face made out of ivory. Then they gouged out the emeralds in her eye sockets so they could finance a spider monkey liberation fund. Mary Sue wandered off, blind, bereft, faceless and naked, never to return to Hogwarts. There are rumors of a faceless, eyeless girl proclaiming a sexual relationship with a certain elven archer in another land, but that is another story, for another time.
In the dungeons, Severus was busy shutting all the windows in an attempt to drown out the frenzied victory calls of the animal rights activists. Not only did they make Trevor the Tapeworm quiver nervously inside his jar. (Trevor was secretly in love Severus, so much so that he had quickly rebuffed the impassioned, blubbering proposals the giant squid had sent him. He could never bear to be liberated by activists as he was certain that if he flung himself against the side of his jar in just the right way, Severus would come to return his sentiments and they could adopt a frog and raise it together.). They also made it difficult for Severus to fully enjoy his delicious steak dinner - a dinner which he had finally sat down to devour when he heard a feeble tapping at his door. He opened it to reveal Dumbledore, who was fiddling with his emerald bracelet - not for nothing were American transfer students allowed into Hogwarts.
"Professor!" cried Severus. "What a surprise to see you here. Is anything the matter?"
"I wouldn't say that," drawled Dumbledore, "in fact, I have quite an interesting offer to make you."
"Yes?"
"I want you to take on a potion's assistant. Now, I think it's someone you may feel adverse to at first, but once you get to know her I think you'll come to appreciate her abilities and her intellect. She'll be a boon to you. She even has some interest in pursuing potions professionally."
"Miss Granger? Well, I can see why you think I might be adverse, but you'll find me open to the prospect. I've come to truly appreciate her intellectual ability in the past month or so."
"My dear boy, do you take me for an idiot? I'm fully aware of your, shall we say, extracurricular activities with Miss Granger. Sweeping the girl around town, really Severus, what would her parents think? I don't doubt the girl can... polish a test tube like a professional... but I'm not employing my staff to hump schoolgirls like gorillas."
Severus's jaw dropped. "I can't even dignify that with a response. My friendship with Miss Granger is entirely appropriate on a student teacher basis. I'm shocked that you could suggest something of the sort."
"Oh, Severus, mum's the word, eh?" twinkled Dumbledore cheerfully.
"If not Miss Granger then who?"
"Susan Bones."
"Absolutely not."
"Absolutely yes. And you will take her on."
"I will not. She has the intellectual ability of a stewed cabbage."
"I don't agree."
"Well, we seem to have very different perceptions of what constitutes intellectual ability, then."
"I don't think you understand. She's my...goddaughter."
"She's already told me that. I don't feel it makes much of a difference."
"You have to. I already promised the position to her."
"Then un-promise it to her. She's a child Albus, treat her like one."
"I don't think you understand. She's very mature for her age."
"And what is her age?"
"Seventeen."
"Ah-hah."
"She surprises me, really. Inside that little Hufflepuff body is the cunning of a Borgia."
"Tenacious, too?"
"You can't imagine. She's harder to budge than an oak tree. And when she wants something, she just sinks her little teeth in until she gets it. Stubborn, really."
"And jealous, too? I imagine she'd be furious if you gave the position to anyone else."
"Secure in her own abilities, I should say. But it's true, if you cross her she'll give you hell on a platter."
"But I bet she's vulnerable all the same. She's so young; doesn't she have moments where she has little flickers of insecurity?"
"She's sweet. So unmarred by life. How wasted youth really is on the young, wouldn't you agree?"
"A mature woman of the world in some ways, but at other moments a timid and delicate child?"
"You know her!"
"Just well enough to know that she's not your god-daughter. She isn't is she? Let's not add some sort of emotional incest to the whole proposition. You ought to be ashamed; you're old enough to be her grandfather. Her great grandfather, even!"
"Really Severus, I thought you of all people would understand. Don't tell me you've never been tempted. All those ample young women running around with those cute little house ties waggling back and forth. God knows you ravish enough muggles at Dark Revels."
"I've been tempted, and I've restrained myself. Albus, how could you? What about Minerva? Dear, sweet Minerva?"
"Dear sweet Minerva has a lover of her own. We're very open about it."
"Dear, sweet Minerva?"
"Dear, sweet Minerva."
"Who? Not more pedophilia."
"Argus Filch."
"Seriously?"
"I'm afraid so. Love is blind. She visits him in her animagus form occasionally. People just assume it's Mrs. Norris."
"That's the most revolting thing I've ever heard. I find both counts revolting, really. At your ages sex should mean nothing but gender."
"I can't believe you could be so puritanical. And so archaic! Susan and I have a love that extends past all boundaries. There's such a pleasure to being loved for your soul, not for your body. She dotes on me. And I on her. She's just happy to sit there at my feet like a lapdog, staring at my chin for hours."
"How bizarre. And rather unnerving."
"The point is she's really simple."
"Well, that much seems clear."
"Oh, what would you know about it? Do you at least see that you must give her the position?"
"I was under the impression that you were already giving her 'the position.'"
"That's just an awful joke, Severus. You will make her your assistant though, won't you?"
"I don't see that your being in love with her has anything to do with it."
"Pardon?"
"Why should I? You have a love that extends beyond all boundaries. She won't even care, that's how deep your love is." "But I want to make her happy. And besides, if she didn't get it..."
"She might leave you?"
"She's feisty that way."
"Really Albus, she's not feisty, she's a whore."
"Pardon me?"
"And she's not even a particularly honest whore."
"Let me make myself very clear. You will take her on as your assistant, or I'll fire you. That's the whole story."
"Then you give me no choice. But just tell me one thing?"
"Perhaps."
"Is she the first one? Or has this sort of thing just been going forever for you? I mean, all the attractive prefects over the years, were you shtupping all of them?"
"For heaven's sakes. Why would I be so quick to accept student teacher relationships if I weren't open to them morally? And as I'm open to them, why wouldn't I indulge myself as well. It's perfectly logical."
"So you've..."
"Done this sort of thing before? Well, why not? Though, of course, none who I cared for as much as Miss Bones."
"You may care for her, but I seriously doubt that she returns your affections in kind. She's seventeen, after all, and you're over a century old. I suppose it is comforting to know that she's not just with you because of your good looks, but..."
"She does love me."
"How can you tell?"
"Oh, you should read her love letters."
"She writes you love letters? How sweet."
"They're charming. No one could write letters like that unless they were in love. They're filled with such poetry. I think she may have a certain talent for writing too, but then, my perception could be colored by my fondness for her." Dumbledore popped a lemon drop in his mouth and sucked on it perversely.
"Perhaps if I saw the letters, I could believe it."
"That could be arranged. I'll drop them off for you."
"Perfect."
"So it's agreed then?"
"I suppose so."
"Marvelous. She'll be so pleased."
Dumbledore turned and left the chambers, still gnawing on his lemon drop.
As Trevor the Tapeworm watched Severus dance the Polka around his chambers, exclaiming at sporadic intervals, "I'm going to be headmaster!" he realized that he had never felt more tempted to shower him with roses and praise.