HARRY POTTER'S SIXTH YEAR IN BAD FANFICTION
BY LARGEMARGE
Author's Note: Wow, the few, the proud, the reviewers. Thanks for the reviews! The results are in, and my firstborn's name will officially be very strange. Oh, and I believe there are a few individuals out there who have earned my vote in the next election. I pledge you my full support.
Disclaimer: Don't own nothin'. Oh, and the line, "volcanoes erupted, oceans boiled. The universe was in turmoil," does not belong to me either. It belongs to that genius of cartoon, Charles M. Schulz. And I don't own Princess Bride either. House points to whoever can identify what I ripped off from PB! Borrowed, I mean.
SHOWDOWN AT THE OK CORRAL
Voldemort cackled evilly as he looked over the assembled group of students. "The train's early!" He rubbed his hands together expectantly. "Things are turning out better than I expected."
Ron kept his wand pointed carefully at Voldemort's nose. "What've you done with Harry?" he demanded.
"Potter?" Voldemort gave Ron a shrewd glance.
"C'mon, where is he?" Hermione chimed in, sounding slightly hysterical.
"Such loyalty," Voldemort mocked. "It really is sickening," he sneered sneeringly. With a sudden flick of his wrist his wand was pointed toward the group of students. "Who wants to be the first to die?" he asked in a conversational tone.
There was a collective gasp. Ron and Hermione instinctively pulled back towards the group.
Harry was about to bravely throw off the invisibility cloak and start throwing curses, no matter how foolhardy or dangerous it might be. Even if he were to get captured and tortured and killed, it would all be worth it to know that he had done it to save his fellow Hogwarts classmates. Harry was a very self-sacrificing individual. But also extremely modest.
Oh, yes.
But Harry started with surprise at that moment as Neville pushed his way forward to stand alone in front of Voldemort, his wand held out in front of him.
"No one's going to die today," Neville said coldly. "Except maybe you."
"Who're you?" Voldemort asked blankly.
"Neville Longbottom." Neville's voice began to quaver a little; probably from being so close to Voldemort. Harry could testify as to how disconcerting his truly evil red eyes were...they could literally suck the joy and happiness right out of your soul...not unlike a dementor, now that he thought about it. "P-prepare to meet your w-worst nightmare."
This time Harry did roll his eyes. What did Neville think he was playing at? Harry was the hero. Harry was the one who was supposed to save the day. Not Neville. Harry felt a surge of resentment boiling up inside of him.
"Longbottom," Voldemort mused, a devilishly devilish glint coming into his eye. "I was going to Avada Kedavra the lot of you, but for a Longbottom I might take exception. How do you feel about the Cruciatus, my boy?"
Neville's hand was clearly shaking. "I think you're bluffing."
Voldemort laughed sadistically. "I haven't had this much fun in such a long while," he said while rubbing his hands together expectantly. "Perhaps I'd rather enjoy being the headmaster here after all."
Before he could follow that thought any further Neville shot off a curse. "Petrificus Totalus!"
But the only thing that came shooting out of Neville's hand was his wand, in a smooth, wide arc toward Voldemort. "Come on, then. Let's have 'em all," he said loudly. "Everyone's wands, in a nice neat little pile right here." He motioned with his hand.
If Voldemort thought they were going to give in that easily he was sorely mistaken. Scores of curses shot towards him, but in the end all he ended up with was a handful of wands and a sour expression.
"Now, that wasn't very nice," he groused. "A simple little request and what do I get?" He paused a moment and then answered his own question. "Animosity, that's what. You children need to learn how to behave. Now, any loose wands there? Don't make me come over there and get that myself, little witch."
Meanwhile, Harry was moving silently around the entrance hall, checking the bodies on the floor. That mountain over there had to be Hagrid. There was Kingsley Shacklebolt. The Order had arrived, then. And here was Lucius Malfoy, who was supposed to be imprisoned in Azkaban. Harry couldn't stop himself from ramming his foot into the man's ribs a few times just for fun. Voldemort didn't notice anyway. He was being swarmed by students.
"That's right," he was saying. "Just gather yourselves around. I want to have a heart-to-heart with the lot of you. Just us. You and Uncle Voldemort." The students were sitting down to form a circle around him.
Harry wondered what they were talking about, but he'd just discovered the location of the rest of the missing professors and death eaters. There were dim voices coming from the direction of the great hall.
-oo0oo-
"I demand to know what you're doing to Albus," Professor McGonagall demanded of a young death eater as Harry slipped into the room.
"Well you can demand all you want, but do it a little quieter, eh? I'm busy here," the death eater retorted, concentrating on a game of wizard chess. The death eater across from him snorted.
"Talk all you want, lady. He's never going to win."
Harry quickly surveyed the room. There was a cluster of professors and Order members bound at one end of the room. The two death eaters sat idly by playing wizard chess a few feet away, and nearby was a cluster of eight or ten more death eaters who appeared to be arguing, darting glances over their shoulders at the bound professors and Order members from time to time. The rest of the room was empty.
"Young man," began Professor McGonagall in her best lecture voice, "I've been teaching at Hogwarts since before you were born. And quite frankly, the day that I listen to a death eater is the day that –"
The young death eater pointed his wand in her direction. "Silencio!" Though her mouth continued to move, no more sound emerged. The death eater looked pleased with himself.
Moody was looking in Harry's direction, a significant expression upon his face. "So have you figured out where it is yet?" he asked conversationally.
"Where what is?" the death eater asked impatiently.
"The thing," Moody said significantly.
"What thing?"
"The thing. You know, that's hidden in that place." He was sending meaningful looks Harry's way. "The thing that can destroy Voldemort forever."
Moody's fellow prisoners were nudging and trying to silence him.
"You're nutters." The death eater moved his head impatiently. "There's no thing that can destroy Voldemort."
"Oh. Well, if somebody did want to know where to find that thing, all they'd have to do is GO FIND DUMBLEDORE," Moody said loudly. He was motioning his head furiously toward the door. Harry wondered what the man was trying to tell him. So, apparently, did everyone else around him.
"Will you knock it off, Moody?" Tonks asked irritably. "You're going to take somebody's eye out."
Rather than try to figure out what Moody was on about, Harry wisely decided to leave the room and see if he could come up with a plan to defeat Voldemort and save all of the wizarding world. Which was all in a day's work for him.
In the entrance hall, he noted that Voldemort had dimmed the lights. The floor around him was littered with students, listening avidly.
"First there was nothing," Voldemort was saying in a low voice. "Volcanoes erupted, oceans boiled. The universe was in turmoil. Then came...Voldemort." The lights flickered on and off.
"Ooooh," a first-year said.
At last Harry had had enough. He threw caution to the wind. He also threw the invisibility cloak off. "Stupefy!" he shouted.
Voldemort leaped to his feet. The first-year sitting at his knee keeled over.
"Harry!" Ron sounded relieved. "Oh, you had your invisibility cloak. You should have told us, mate."
Harry tried again. "Expelliarmus!"
Voldemort jumped out of the way and the spell hit Hermione, whose wand came flying to Harry.
"So the famous Harry Potter shows his cowardly face at last," Voldemort mused. "Crucio!"
Harry screamed and writhed in agony on the floor. Such horrible agony...his head was going to split apart...he was dying...dying...dying...DYING...
The peaceful storytelling scene was broken and the students scattered around the room, watching the dreadful scene fearfully.
A while later, once Harry couldn't stand the torture anymore, he knew he was going to pass out and probably die. He had only one thought...he had to tell...her...the only one that really mattered...she had to know, before he died...
But it was all too much for Harry, and even as he opened his mouth and reached a hand out to her, the scene around him abruptly faded and dimmed, and he found himself falling into an endless void.
-oo0oo-
When Harry came to himself again, it was to discover he was imprisoned in an oblong room, his hands and feet chained magically together. What had happened? Though Harry wracked his brain, he couldn't remember anything after Voldemort's horrible torture.
Suddenly a sadistic laugh floated on the air. "Awake at long last, I see. You deprived me of the enjoyment of finishing my torture, Potter. That wasn't nice."
"Ooh, let me, let me!" Wormtail piped up from somewhere behind Voldemort. Harry was having trouble focusing his vision as he looked up at the blurry figures standing over him.
"We're all going to enjoy this, Wormtail," Voldemort said. "Since none of us has got anything better to do, bring the boy out here and we'll all torture him for a while. Then, once we get tired of that, I'll probably kill him. Oh, and at some point we'd better get that information from him."
Wormtail rubbed his hands together expectantly as Voldemort left the room.
"So it's to be torture, then," Harry said dully as Wormtail loosed him from the chains. "Well, I can cope with torture."
Wormtail shook his head violently.
"Don't believe me?" Harry asked speculatively.
Wormtail shrugged. "Well, you've survived Voldemort four times now, so you must be exceptionally brave. But no one withstands...death eater torture."
Shortly Harry was dragged into a large room where several handfuls of death eaters were assembled.
"First, Potter, I will offer you the chance to give us the information we seek without being submitted to the indignities of torture," Voldemort offered calmly
There were several gasps of alarm at this admission. The death eaters really wanted to torture Harry really bad, because gratuitous violence is what most evil people enjoy more than anything, as we all know.
"Tell us the prophecy," Voldemort demanded in a low voice.
"Never," Harry proclaimed resolutely. "Not even if you torture me and Avada Kedavra me. I'll never tell, because I'm the Boy Who Lived."
"You're going to be the Boy Who Died very shortly," Voldemort growled. "Tell us the prophecy!"
"Death first!" Harry shouted back.
Then the torture began. It was awful, so awfully terribly heinous and evil that Harry lost consciousness almost immediately. This irked the death eaters no end, so they insisted on enervating him every time he passed out just so that they could enjoy his pain as he suffered and writhed in agony on the ground, his screams echoing through the room.
Finally there came a time when Harry passed out and, try as they might, the death eaters couldn't revive him.
"Get him out of my sight," Voldemort commanded with disgust. Two death eaters hastened to pick the boy up and drag him from the room. "I'm not through with him yet," Voldemort muttered to Wormtail, eyeing Harry's limp, inert form with loathing. "Not by far."
-oo0oo-
"Potter! Potter! Wake up, you idiot boy!"
Coming back was a gradual thing. Every bone in his body ached; his head pounded with pain. Even his toenails throbbed with agony...agonizing agony...
"Potter!" Harry was abruptly shaken violently back and forth. "There is no time for this!" the strangely familiar voice hissed into his ear.
"Ssssmatter?" Harry slurred.
"Get up! The dark lord will be back at any moment! If you'd like to get out of here in one piece, I suggest you get up!"
The blurred shape in front of Harry's face transformed into the familiar personage of his most dreaded and hated professor...Snape.
"Whassa...Snape?" Harry mumbled.
"Potter, move!" Snape dragged him to his feet and threw Harry's body over his shoulder.
Harry was uncomfortably shaken to full consciousness as he was jerked and thrown about on Snape's shoulders as the man thundered through the intricate hallways of the building.
"Snape!" a hideous voice suddenly shrieked from somewhere behind them.
"Hang on," Snape muttered as he tore around a corner and out the front of the building. "Take hold," he instructed Harry, producing a bottle of hair wax from his pocket. He muttered something under his breath, and then Harry felt a tug behind his navel and his feet left the ground.
Moments later he tumbled to the ground and collapsed.
"Idiot," Snape was saying as he picked him up and began to carry him towards Hogwarts castle, a sight which gladdened Harry's soul. "Had to go and get yourself captured by Voldemort. Now he knows. He knows!"
"What does he know?" Harry murmured tiredly.
"He knows where my allegiance lies, you thick-brained Gryffindor! This is all your fault!"
"What about those fatherly emotions you were having towards me?" Harry couldn't help but ask. "I thought you were starting to like me."
Snape stiffened. "I do not like you, Potter. Not in the least. Don't ever, ever say that again."
Harry lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, feeling stupid for even bringing it up. After all, he didn't give a rip if that stupid git Snape liked him or not. Did he?
"I -- I've been taking a potion to keep those feelings at bay," Snape finally admitted, sounding rather foolish.
"Keep taking it," Harry murmured with exhaustion. "Maybe you ought to start taking a double dose just to make sure..." and with that, Harry promptly faded out of consciousness for the last time.
Coming Next: Harry recovers and classes begin. New DADA professor (of course), and who is this her of whom Harry speaks? Hey, I have bad grammar. It's the love of Harry's life, of course. But who is it? And why doesn't he want her to know? Blah blah blah and more angsty bad writing, of course.
Author's Note: I was not intending to focus this fic on just the "Snape mentors Harry" side of things when I began it. It's just kind of turned out that way so far. But rest assured that I will attempt to parody many other fanfiction storylines that I know and love, but there will be absolutely NO SLASH. I am diametrically opposed to slash. And if you've got suggestions for what you'd like to see parodied, give 'em over!
