Harry Potter's Sixth Year in Bad Fanfiction

BY LARGEMARGE

Author's Note: I've had the flu and been rather miserable for the last few days. It occurred to me as I was lying there in a haze of pain and agonizing agony that this is the kind of pain I put Harry through. What a terribly cruel person I am! But now I feel better and I'm over it.

Thanks for the reviews! You guys are the greatest. Oh, and my first flame ever…I'm touched. Really, kuyaga you shouldn't have! My apologies to Mystic Moon6 and any other residents of Houston, Texas or Russia who got killed off by Harry. Most inconsiderate of him, really. And to Phe-Chan…you made my week! I love reviews. Thanks to everyone.

Disclaimer: Anything that sounds vaguely familiar I borrowed to make fun of. You can have it back at the end of the fanfic.


Harry and His Evil Guts

Azkaban. A really lousy place to spend your Christmas holiday. Harry crouched in a corner of his cell. Trembling, cold, numb. Plus he really needed to go to the loo.

Two whole weeks he'd been in here now. Mostly he passed the time by thinking of all the people who were responsible for placing him here. He really hated them. A whole lot. Plus all his so-called friends who had turned their backs on him so quickly. He fantasized about breaking out and seeking his revenge on them. Things usually got a little fuzzy around the seeking revenge part, because he could never think of anything bad enough to do to them. Maybe he could put the Imperius curse on Hermione and make her fall in love with Draco. That'd drive Ron mad for sure. And maybe Imperio Ginny to fall for Snape and Buttercup for Dumbledore and McGonagall for Neville…the possibilities were endless.

Such were Harry's pleasant thoughts that lovely Azkaban morning, until it suddenly occurred to him that – hey! Today was Christmas.

After a glance around his cell, somehow that thought only deepened his depression.

A dementor walked by. Harry was reliving the death of his parents. For at least the 500th time.

"Haaaaarrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyy!"

He covered his ears, but it didn't shut out the sound. Finally he slumped to the floor in a faint, which was a relief, because the author was really debating on knocking him out and negating all those merciful feelings she was spouting about in her note up at the top.


"…sleeping…better come back…"

"Yeah, Mum. Can they even get presents in Azkaban? What if the dementors just take them?"

"Yeah, and play with them and stuff."

"Oh yeah, Fred. I'm sure that's all dementors do around here at Christmas, is sit around playing with people's gifts."

"Well what else would they do with their time?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe suck out people's souls?"

"This place is creepy. Let's get out of here."

"Ronald Weasley! Get back here this instant! We came to visit Harry for Christmas and we're staying! Even if he is an evil killer!"

Harry raised his head slowly. He was faced with six Weasleys standing outside of his cell.

"Harry, you're awake!" Mrs. Weasley cooed. "We just stopped in to wish you a happy Christmas!"

Harry stared at the ground dully.

"And I brought you this present!" She held a package through the bars. Harry didn't move, and after a moment she elbowed Ron.

"And I brought you a present too," Ron said stonily, holding out the small package.

"Us too, Harry," Fred and George piped up. "Though Mum wouldn't let us include any prison-break pasties. They're our latest invention. Soon as we heard about you."

Harry didn't look up.

"H-harry?" Ginny asked timidly.

"Don't think he can hear us," Ron finally said.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "These dementors haven't driven you out of your mind already, have they?"

Harry fell to scratching in the dirt at his feet.

"H-he's so thin…" Ginny said, a sob catching in her throat.

"Oh, please," Ron said. "He's been in here all of two weeks. He looks exactly the same to me. Except…a little more murderous, maybe."

Ginny burst into tears and Mr. Weasley comforted her.

"Quiet, you lot." Mrs. Weasley began to unwrap the present. "It's a sweater, see, Harry? I made it myself. With your prisoner number on the front. Isn't that nice?"

"Like anybody's going to forget who he is," Ron muttered. "He's the wizard who killed a million people."

Ginny wailed louder.

"Maybe we should just go," Mr. Weasley said uneasily.

"Perhaps we should," Mrs. Weasley agreed. She shoved the sweater through the bars. "Now you put that on, Harry," she spoke loudly. "There's a little chill in here, and it's damp. I'd hate for you to become ill."

Fred, George, and Ron shoved their still-wrapped presents through the bars as well.

"Those'll keep you entertained for a few months, Harry," Fred promised him. "And we'll be back next Christmas to bring you another present."

Ron elbowed him in the side. "What?" Fred asked. "Who cares if he killed all those people anyway? Still doesn't mean we can't try our inventions out on him, does it?"

They began to move away. "Goodbye, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley said, beginning to cry into a handkerchief. "You've had such a hard life…no mother to take care of you…I understand, really, how you could have gone astray. Poor, poor boy. Keep your chin up…"

"Come on, Molly."

And they were gone.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Harry moved to the presents, curiosity getting the better of him. Even though he hated their guts, he still did kinda want to know what presents they had brought him.

He opened Ron's present first. It was a book. "Demise of the Darkest Wizards Ever," was the title. Inside the front cover Ron had scrawled, "Harry – just wanted you to know, they're coming out with a new edition. You're to be chapter 157. And I still think you're a stinky traitor. From, your ex-best friend."

Harry growled at the book before throwing it across the cell.

Fred and George's presents were a little more light-hearted. A dementor doll and fiery hair gel.

"Want to frighten your cell mates?" they had written. "Push the doll's stomach and listen to the rattling sound of a dementor's breathing. Guaranteed to sound just like the real thing. The perfect way to send everybody down crazy lane before you."

Of the hair gel they said, "To liven up those boring Azkaban afternoons, apply a little fiery hair gel. In no time your hair will be on fire. A good way to keep warm and freak out lots of people. Warning: If redness or boils occur, discontinue use immediately and seek assistance at St. Mungo's."

Though Harry still hated the Weasleys, really, really a lot, he was rather glad of their visit. It was beastly being cooped up and not allowed to talk to anyone. And it had only been two weeks. Only…the rest of his life to go.

Harry really hoped that death was in the near future.


"Master, with Potter out of the way, you are free to wreak havoc as you wish," Wormtail said, kneeling before Harry along with several other Death Eaters.

"Genius, I am!" Harry crowed. "Now that the Potter kid's in Azkaban, I can finally live up to my full potential of killing and torturing and taking over the world!"

"Don't we do that already?" Wormtail asked.

"Oh, yeah. Good point," Harry said.

One Death Eater raised his head. "You mean…Potter was innocent?"

Harry laughed shortly. "Of course he was innocent, you fool! I killed all those people, because I'm an evil, dark wizard! Bwahahahaha!"

"So what's our next plan of action?" Wormtail asked.

"Our next plan of action is…kill everyone else. Kill 'em all!"

"Right, but…starting where?"

"Oh, right." Harry fell to thinking. "We'll start with…Hogwarts! Kill everyone at Hogwarts, because that's where Dumbledore is, and all the other people who are useful to the plot. We must place them in peril as soon as possible!"

The Death Eater raised his head again. "But master…I'll be out of a job."

"Well, I'll give you two weeks to find a new one," Harry offered.

"But why don't you justkill Dumbledore and leave the kids?"

"How dare you question me?" Harry thundered. "Crucio!"

The Death Eater twisted in agony.

Mercifully, at that point, Harry woke up. He was gasping from the searing pain in his scar.

Hogwarts! Voldemort was going to destroy Hogwarts, home of everything that was good and upstanding in the world…oh, yeah. And all those people who hated his guts.

But Harry couldn't get it out of his head, and finally he hit on a plan. He was going to get out of Azkaban. And he was going to rescue all of Hogwarts. They'd turned their back on him, but he wouldn't turn his back on them, by golly. Oh yeah, he'd show them all right. Then wouldn't they be sorry for how they'd treated him.

Harry was angry. Very, very angry.


He began to spend his days doing useful stuff. Like learning to apparate and become an animagus and do wandless magic and stuff. Because, I mean, where else do you have time to learn all that stuff, other than in Azkaban? And besides, he knew once he had mastered all of those things he'd be, like, the most powerful wizard in the world, or nearly. And then he could break his way out of Azkaban and start wreaking his own havoc on the wizarding world. Revenge. Aah, that was a sweet word. Really, really, sweet. Like pink, sticky cotton candy. Or a cup of sugar.

The animagus thing was giving Harry a bit of trouble. Though he'd worked on it for days, he still hadn't mastered it. One afternoon inspiration hit him and he began channeling Sirius, who told him everything he needed to know about becoming an animagus. Plus they had some good talks about surviving Azkaban too. Harry had lots of time to devote to his new hobby, so it's not any surprise that only a few days later he finally achieved his goal.

He changed into an animal.

Wow, this is cool! Thought Harry. I'm an animal! If only there were a mirror in here so I could see just what exactly I am. Well, I've got four legs. He trotted around a bit. And I'm kind of a gray color. Maybe I should try making a noise or something.

He succeeded in making a small whuffling sound. Let's just try again here, he thought. He drew in a large breath.

"Hee haw!"

Wow, I'm a donkey! How cool is this? For a while Harry practiced switching back and forth from human to donkey until he was exhausted.

Then he lay on the floor of his cell planning his escape. How the heck was he going to get out of here, anyway?

A dementor came by just then, and as all the good feelings were sucked out of him, Harry decided he had to get out of here, but soon. He couldn't take much more of this. Then he blacked out.


"Tomorrow we put our plan into action, Wormtail! Tomorrow everyone at Hogwarts will die! Die die die!"

"Yes, master."

"With Dumbledore out of the picture, I will be free to rule the world! No one will dare to cross me!"

"Got it," Wormtail said.

"Not even that crazy Potter kid!"

"Okay."

"Look, aren't you going to even get keyed up or something? It takes a lot of work to be all excited about killing people all the time. I need a little help here."

"Sorry," Wormtail said. "Woohoo! Tomorrow night, death at Hogwarts! Par-tay!"

"That'll do."

With a gasp Harry sat up. Oh no! Just one more day and Voldemort would be attacking! He had to get out of here, he just had to! What was he going to do?

But soon the familiar despair and anguish was washing over him. Before Harry could do anything else, he was sinking into a cold, dismal fog.


Early the next morning Harry was crouched in the corner, hands clamped over his ears to keep the horror at bay. He was unaware anyone was even standing at his cell door until it slowly began to creep open.

Dully, Harry lowered his hands.

"Are you sure this is Harry?" Remus asked. "It doesn't even look like him. I mean, ratty robe, wild matted hair, dirty beyond belief, emaciated…and those eyes. I definitely remember Harry's eyes. They were not that dismal, angry color."

Dumbledore kept his wand trained carefully on Harry. "Angry isn't a color, Remus."

"Oh yeah? Tell that to hundreds of fanfic writers," Remus told him. After a moment he noticed Dumbledore giving him a look. "What?"

"Go look." He nodded his head in Harry's direction.

"Me? Why me? Why don't you go look?" Remus objected, hanging back.

"Because I'm the headmaster of Hogwarts. Hundreds of students depend on me. But if you get hurt, no one will care. So go look."

Remus heaved a sigh and stepped closer to Harry. He bent down and pushed some matted hair off his forehead, then quickly jumped back.

"Well, there's a scar there, all right."

"Good." Dumbledore spoke up a little. "Hello, Harry. We've found out Hogwarts is going to be attacked today, and we need your help."

Harry stared listlessly at the floor.

"Should we take that as a no?" Remus asked.

Harry didn't move.

"I feared as much," Dumbledore spoke. "It is just as the Weasleys said. He has already been driven mad."

Remus hung his head sadly. "It's just as well, though. I mean, he never would have come if he knew we just wanted to trade him to Voldemort."

"True," Dumbledore agreed. "Get him up."

Remus dragged Harry to his feet and they left, Remus supporting him heavily.

Nobody saw the glint in Harry's eye, the glint of recognition, of anger, of revenge.

Dun dun dun!


So they went back to Hogwarts. "Here he is," Dumbledore said as Remus pulled Harry into the headmaster's office. Harry saw that there was already a group of people gathered there, members of the Order. Although nobody would have known he was aware of anything by lookingat him, because his face was just as blank and unreadable as before. He continued to stare dully at the ground. Crafty, Harry was. And I don't just mean like he was good with a stick of glue.

"What's his problem?" Snape asked. "He looks as vacant as Longbottom in my class."

"I am afraid," Dumbledore announced dramatically, "that Potter has lost his mind."

"I like him better already," Snape sneered.

"Oh, poor Harry," Mrs. Weasley snuffled into her handkerchief. Everyone in the room gave her looks of anger, because of course they all hated Harry and his evil guts.

"So anyway," Snape said, "We were just going over the plan. Voldemort shows up, and then we –"

"Ahem," Mrs. Weasley said sternly, jumping to her feet. "Are you just going to lay out this whole horrible plan right in front of poor Harry here?"

Snape folded his arms and indicated Harry with his head. "Look at him, Molly. He's a gibbering idiot. It doesn't really matter whether we say it in front of him or not."

Everyone looked at Harry, who had sunk down to the floor and was rocking back and forth, muttering gibberish to himself.

"But he's so cute and helpless!" Molly burst out. "We can't turn him over to Voldemort, just like that!"

"He's a nasty evil killer, Molly," Dumbledore reminded her. "What about that?"

"Yeah, what about that?" Snape repeated. "Huh?"

"Well, everyone has bad days," Molly finally said, sinking back into her seat.

"Will there be any further outbursts, or may I continue?" Snape inquired sweetly. Well, you know. As much as Snape had the ability to be sweet. Which, admittedly, wasn't much.

Anyway, so then Snape went on with the plan.

And sitting unobserved on the floor, Harry listened to the Order's plan, and plotted his own. He may have looked as vacant as the Bates Motel, but when it came down to defeating evil, he'd show them who was a gibbering idiot.


A/N: Voldemort and Wormtail really reminded me of Pinky and the Brain in this chapter: "So, what're we going to do tonight, Voldemort?" "Same thing we do every night, Wormtail: Try to take over the world! Bwahahaha!" Don't really know how that happened…but oh well.

So anyway, sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger here. But I'm on a break right now and may be able to update by the end of the week, if I receive enough encouragement.

Encourage me!

Now review!