Oh, and when I say "the author" I'm meaning the people who write the fics that I'm making fun of. When I say "the real author" I mean myself. By "real author" I don't mean that I'm an actual writer and others are not, I just mean the real author of this fic. I'm eighteen not twelve. Just to clear things up…
Thanks so much to all you who review. You rock my "Fraggle Rock" shirt (that I'm wearing right now).
CHICKENS of DOOM- I definitely applaud you. I'm so glad you got the joke. I love your reviews.
Chapter 8: The Mary Sue ChapterA/N: So lyk this is my v first fic so be super nice n dont flame, k? I lyk totally suk at sumarys so lyk jus read my fic, k? My stories bout this gurl who lyk cums 2 hogwarts n shes lyk totally pretty n hary lyk falls in luv wit her cuz shes so pretty n harys lyk so hott. But shes so not a marysue so lyk review for me, k?
It was a cold day at Hogwarts and everybody was in the Great Hall where they were eating breakfast. Hermione had yet to find Draco and was becoming increasingly desperate. In the middle of their meal Dumbledore (who either was not actually dead at the end of the last book or had come back to life) interrupted the students. Of course, there's also the possibility that the author could have possibly just ignored book six altogether and decided that canon did not apply to her fic-writing. Or the author may have just seen all the movies and never read even a paragraph of any of the books, and assumed she knew enough of canon to write a proper fic. Dumbledore arose and motioned for silence.
"Silence!" he called, while motioning. (Or if you watch the DVD of the first movie in Spanish you can see him yell out "Silencio!") "I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner," he said, although it was seven thirty in the morning and the author just stated that they were having breakfast not dinner. "But we have a new transfer student from America for me to introduce."
As if magically (author grins at what she feels is clever use of the word "magic" in a fic about witches and wizards) an astounding, amazingly beautiful, gorgeous, magnificent, glorious, angel-esque, astonishing, eloquent, stunning, elegant, dazzling, lovely, striking, radiant, graceful, alluring, unbearably attractive girl appeared beside Dumbledore while the author returned to her mother's office the four thesauruses and two dictionaries it took to describe said girl.
"This," continued Dumbledore, "is Whitney Helena Orana Regina Elaine Riddle."
All the boys in the Great Hall gasped and attempted to hide their erections at the site of the girl. Even some of the girls were awed by her breath-taking appearance. They too were covering their erections. Whitney Helena Orana Regina Elaine Riddle was the most beautiful girl they'd ever seen. She had long knee-length golden/sunny/beaming locks of shiny hair and purple/green/gray/yellow/blue/orange/black-and-white-stripped eyes that changed color depending on the weather or her clothes or her mood or her menstruation cycle.
She was slim (but not too slim) with exactly the right size breasts and a perfect butt and great legs. She was also tan but not too tan. And she had not a trace of acne. Not one pimple. Also, she had her bellybutton pierced (unlike the author because her mother won't let her get that done until she's sixteen which is so totally not fair because like everybody has it done and it makes the author like a total loser because she wants to be like everyone else). She also had a sexy butterfly tattoo on her lower back just like the author is going to get when she turns eighteen.
"First things first," said Dumbledore, ignoring Millicent Bulstrode's moans of arousal. "Professor McGonagall, please bring the Sorting Hat."
Professor McGonagall did bring the Sorting Hat. She placed it on top of Whitney's perfect little head. The hat was silent for a long time because it was very difficult for it to decide what house Whitney belonged in because she was more cunning than the most cunning Slytherin and braver than the bravest Gryffindor. She was also smarter than the smartest Ravenclaw and more loyal than the most loyal Hufflepuff. But eventually the hat decided that she was too nice to be in Slytherin and too pretty to be in Ravenclaw and too cool to be in Hufflepuff so it then yelled out the inevitable…
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Whitney gracefully made her way to the Gryffindor table where she sat down next to Hermione. Hermione sneered slightly and went to exchange disgusted looks with Harry and Ron when she noticed they were both staring at her.
"So Whitney," Harry said suavely, "you're from America?"
"Yes," she replied with the sweetest voice that had ever penetrated anyone's ears ever. "But I have British relations."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she said. "I'm Dumbledore's granddaughter actually. And I'm Snape's niece and Voldemort's daughter and McGonagall's sister-in-law and Draco Malfoy's aunt and Viktor Krum's roommate's ex-girlfriend and Sirius Black's pimp and Lavender Brown's first lesbian experience and Oliver Wood's Quidditch coach and Cho Chang's best friend and Parvati's mother's co-worker's sister's husband's ex-fiance's daughter's godfather's dog walker's babysitter. Oh, and Dobby's cousin."
"Wow," said Ron. "You must be really powerful then."
"I am," she said in a non-bragging sort of way. "I can do wand-less magic and I'm an expert at silent spells. Also, I'm an Animagus. I can turn into a butterfly, a swan, a doe (a deer, a female deer), a kitten, a tiger, a mermaid, and a ladybug. I can also perform a perfect Patronus and I can do Occlumency and Legilimens. I'm can expertly Apparate and Disapparate without any problems and I'm also very good at Quidditch. I'm an excellent Seeker, Beater, Chaser, and Keeper."
The author is extremely pleased with herself. She hopes the readers will think she's super smart and has read the books because she knows the names of the Quidditch positions. The real reason she knows them is because she asked that weird girl with black hair who paints her nails black and wears black eye makeup who sits behind her in Chemistry that always wears those Harry Potter shirts from Hot Topic.
Hermione glanced at Harry who had hearts in his eyes. She snapped her fingers in front of his face but he could not take his eyes off Whitney.
"Whitney!" he said. "I'm in love with you! I always have been even though I just met you not five minutes ago. Make love to me right here on this very table in front of everyone please!"
"Oh, Harry!" Whitney swooned. "I'm in love with you too. But how distraught I am! It cannot be, Harry. Because…well…I'm your long lost twin sister!"
"What?" everyone in the Great Hall exclaimed.
"Yes," she said sadly. "When we were born there was a…" She paused. "…prophecy that said…" Pause. "…that I would be…" Pause. "…killed by Voldemort." No one was shocked by the fact that Whitney was able to say You-Know-Who's name when there are very few people who can.
"But why were you sent away?" Hermione asked.
"For my own protection," said Whitney.
"If it's in a prophecy then it doesn't matter where you are," said Hermione smartly. "It's still going to happen. Haven't you learned anything from reading mythology?"
"I don't read," Whitney said. "Reading's for losers. Why do you think the author just watches the movies?" She rolled her eyes at Hermione for being logical and went on. "But yes, Harry. I can't be with you because you're my brother…unless…" She eyed him with raised eyebrows. "Unless you want to take a little trip over to adultfanfiction and wander into an incest fic…"
Harry vomited. "No thanks," he said. "I'll leave all that fun to Fred and George."
The day went on and what a fulfilling day at Hogwarts it was for Whitney too. She had not one flaw. This apparently caused her to be lacking in the sexual morals department because in the duration of this day she slept with almost every male she ran into. Even Hagrid. And Professor Grubbly-Plank who I am convinced is a lesbian. That night in the common room she was sitting on the couch naked painting her nails.
"Hey Whitney," Hermione said. "Since you're such a great Animagus…why don't you show us your talents."
"Sure!" Whitney replied. "What would you like me to turn into?"
"How about that lady bug?" she suggested.
"Okay," she said. She stood up, took a deep breath, and expertly turned into a sparkling ladybug. Hermione promptly stepped on her.
Please review.
There's something special about Whitney's name. It not hard to figure out but I'm wondering how many people will notice it.