He's Not Dead Yet

Just the mandatory chapter dedicated to what's going on in people's heads. I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with Monty Python.

Just a reminder, don't take this story too seriously. It was written purely for the sake of humor and as a partial parody of the Harry/Harem fics. There is no reason to get worked up because Harry is going to have six wives; I know it would be ridiculous, and that's why I did it!

Oh, also, it will be made clear in this chapter who the girls Harry will end up with are.

There Will Now Be a Medium-Sized Intermission

Albus Dumbledore was furious.

He'd just had the most miserable Christmas of his entire life; it was even worse than the one after his boyfr – after Gellert Grindelwald had left. He'd been abducted from the school by the Goblin Inquisition (amongst whose weapons were such diverse elements as fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, and an almost fanatical devotion to Gringotts and a nice red uniform). The nasty little creatures had dragged him off to a Gringotts holding-cell and subjected him to such torments as "The Soft Cushions" and, Albus shuddered, "The Comfy Chair." Now, while those might not sound like they are too horrible, the goblins have their own, sinister twist to the torments that are just not acceptable for repetition in a T-rated story. Finally, Albus had been released once he had confessed to having stolen money and heirlooms from the Potter family; he had then been made to hand over everything he had stolen and pay back all the money, plus interest. It goes without saying that the Headmaster was no longer able to afford sherbet lemons.

Dumbledore needed to think of a way to get Harry back under his thumb. The boy seemed to have severed ties to some of the Weasleys; something that irked Dumbledore greatly as he needed young Ronald to spy on Harry and Ginevra was supposed to become the next Lady Potter. Using Severus to bully Harry into obedience was out as the Potions Master was one foul-up away from falling into the hands of Amelia Bones; and, as Albus knew just about everything Severus had done as a Death Eater, that would not end well.

Amelia Bones was of two minds.

One, she was delighted to have spent an enjoyable New Year's at Potter Manor for that wonderful ball; it had brought back such fond memories of happier times; and seeing Susan dancing with Harry Potter reminded her of when the two were little one-year-olds and had been so close. Amelia remembered how Lily had told her after a day of babysitting the two one-year-olds that Susan had given Harry a kiss on the cheek while they were playing together.

Secondly, though, she was angry that Dumbledork was still walking around free. Fudge said that the man still had too much political clout, too many people owed him favors or made excuses for what he'd done. The knowledge that a child-endangering lunatic like Albus too-many-names Dumbledore was in charge of the school that her niece attended had the Head of the DMLE in a right mood. She'd never fully trusted the old man; not even when she was an innocent first-year. She always felt there was a point when eccentricity becomes madness; for example, she found the Lovegood girl to be absolutely charming with her belief in strange and possibly fanciful creatures, but that was mere quirkiness and perfectly fine. Deliberately leaving a child with abusive relatives, disregarding the contents of a will, and permitting students in one's care to nearly be killed every year were certainly not fine.

Amelia sat down at her desk and downed another sherry. Her thoughts turned back to another matter at hand. That blancmange that had eaten the Senior Undersecretary was still on the loose (though Amelia felt no one would mourn the Toad; everybody had hated her, even her allies). While it had been running around, the bizarre entity had turned several members of the Minister's Cabinet into Scotsmen who then left England for the highlands (though, Amelia felt it was a vast improvement to the government). Last she had heard, the blancmange was spotted playing tennis somewhere in Wimbledon and even the Muggles will notice if something like that happens.

It wouldn't have been so troublesome if this was the first time a blancmange-related incident had happened. Back in the 1970s, a killer blancmange had turned a member of the Potter family into a Scotsman (the late Harold Potter for whom young Harry was named). Amelia only hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and that the blancmange would continue to only go after the annoying, incompetent, or bigoted members of the Ministry that it had so far.

Draco Malfoy was not happy.

Ever since the beginning of term, things had gone horribly wrong. It turned out that Black wasn't out to kill Potter; he was, in fact, Potter's godfather. Worse still, Black had the power to ruin the Malfoy family if he wanted to. After the altercation on the train, Draco had written a letter to his father to complain; however, Lucius had responded by ordering Draco to watch himself around Potter; the Malfoys couldn't afford to get on the wrong side of Black. Despite what everyone believed, Draco was not a complete moron; he knew when his father said not to run his mouth off, it was not a request. The only upside to Draco's situation was that Potter and Weasley seemed to have had a bit of a falling out; that meant it was open season on the ginger-haired loser.

Molly Weasley was rather vexed.

Despite how happy she was that Ginny had received that money and the fact that the family's financial worries had been greatly alleviated, she had just read something that made her rather testy. Like everyone else in magical Britain, the Weasleys had started subscribing to The Quibbler; therefore, when news of the New Year's Ball at Potter Manor came out, she was more than a little annoyed. Fred, George, and Percy had all said they'd been invited to some sort of party and she had permitted them to go; not realizing that it was the one at Potter Manor. What Molly couldn't understand was why Harry hadn't invited the rest of the Weasley family. Ronald was his best friend and Ginny was going to be his wife (if Molly had anything to say about it). What's more, the boy hadn't responded to any of the invitations to The Burrow that she had sent.

Molly sat at the kitchen table and grumbled. She needed to help Ginevra in winning over Harry; perhaps a love potion, they'd worked for her when she set her sights on Arthur.

Molly glanced up to the portrait that stood grinning smugly down at her from over the mantelpiece. She had never gotten along well with her mother-in-law when she was alive; Cedrella had snapped at her for 'over-indulging' Ginny and accused her of smothering the boys. Molly huffed at that; what would a Slytherin know about how to raise children? And the woman had even had the audacity to tell her children that being in a House other than Gryffindor was acceptable. The nerve of that woman!

Molly really didn't like that portrait, but Arthur had refused, point blank, to get rid of it and was even insulted that she had suggested such a thing. There are many things a man will do for his wife, but getting rid of a memento of his beloved mother is never one of them.

Neville Longbottom was both thrilled and befuddled.

A year ago, if you had told him he would one day be Harry Potter's best male friend, he would've thought you were mocking him. However, ever since the year began, Neville was becoming more and more confident; he had his own wand, his grades were improving, he had renewed the Potter-Longbottom Alliance, and his Gran was finally proud of him. Finding out that Harry Potter had come back from the future was what was so hard to get his mind around; not that he didn't trust Harry or approve of what he'd done, but it was rather incredible to believe. And then there were the business ventures Harry had suggested; Neville had actually surprised himself by just how much the idea intrigued him; perhaps he could even open up his own franchise of greenhouses?

The recent ball at Potter Manor had put Neville in high-spirits, too. Not only had he gotten to spend time amongst people who genuinely liked him, but he had also been introduced to the very pretty Hannah Abbott who hadn't even complained when he accidentally stepped on her toes while they were dancing.

Neville smiled to himself as he opened the book on plant-speaking Harry had given him. Hmm, Learning the Secret Properties of Mind-Restoring Plants? That certainly sounds interesting.

Ron Wealsey was incensed.

His backstabbing traitor of a best friend just had to go and do this. It was bad enough that the bastard had given a fortune to his sister and not to him; but, now, to go and throw some stupid ball at his stupid manor house? It just wasn't fair!

Ron decided that, when they got back to school, he would tell Hermione what an arse Harry Potter really was. Hermione would then be grateful to him that he warned her against associating with a prat like Potter and probably do anything for him in gratitude.

Harry was getting really out-of-line. The git had even started hanging out with freaks like Loony Lovegood and that moron Longbottom; he even had dirty Slytherins around him. That was just not acceptable! Ron felt he really needed to knock some sense into his pig-headed idiot of a friend and finally get the message across that he wasn't better than everyone else.

After all, what were spies – er, best friends for?

Daphne Greengrass was rather dazed.

She had just spent a wonderful evening at the beautiful Potter Manor. She had even gotten to dance several times with the boy she was seriously crushing on. Daphne had never had much in the way of self-esteem problems or uncertainty; however, seeing how close Harry Potter was with Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood left her feeling very self-conscious. Even if she was the "Ice Queen of Slytherin" it didn't mean she really considered herself to be physically more attractive than any other girl; truth be told, Daphne didn't think any girl genuinely believed she was beautiful, no matter how many people said so. And yet, she couldn't help but feel special when Harry Potter danced with her; Granger and Lovegood didn't even seem to mind her being around; in fact, they were very welcoming.

Her parents, Lord Cyrus and Lady Amalthea Greengrass, had been absolutely taken with Harry's charm and were more than agreeable to a friendship between their families. Daphne felt rather ashamed of herself for thinking it, but she actually hoped her parents offered a betrothal agreement to him. There was no other boy she had ever met who captivated her as much as Harry James Potter.

The Greengrass heiress stared up at her bedroom ceiling and prayed that there was some way all this would work out in the end.

Tracey Davis was conflicted.

She knew it was wrong to like the boy that her best friend was crushing on, but she couldn't help it. Harry Potter was just that type of boy that had all the girls clambering over themselves to even have a chance with. He was all the things a pure-blood girl should look for in a potential husband (wealthy, influential, powerful, and famous); however, he was also what every girl wanted in a guy (kind, friendly, courteous, compassionate, brave, reasonably intelligent-if a little slow on the uptake-, willing to defy the rules when they were wrong, always standing up for those he cares about, and, of course, easy on the eyes). Tracey knew that Daphne would probably be willing to share Harry if the two of them got together (after all, the two girls shared everything with each other; they were practically sisters); but Harry seemed too loyal a boy to even consider having more than one girlfriend.

That evening at Potter Manor had been so wonderful; not even her parents had been able to ruin it. Walter and Marissa Davis were not exactly known for their open-mindedness or consideration; it was lucky they did have an appreciation for power and wealth or Tracey would likely not have been able to attend the party at all. Tracey knew her chances of marrying for love were almost nil as her parents had been seriously considering arranging a betrothal contract with the Goyles, something that had reduced Tracey to tears when she heard about it. For the meantime, Tracey reassured herself that nothing had been finalized and there was still a chance that it wouldn't go through.

Tracey really hoped there was a solution for all this. In the meantime, she needed something to distract herself; she couldn't do any cooking to pass the time as the last time she had tried cooking to take her mind off Harry she had ended up accidentally making a giant blancmange that had somehow come to life and escaped. She had no desire to repeat that in a hurry.

Susan Bones was currently pacing around her bedroom.

She had just returned from a ball at Potter Manor and something was preventing her from sleeping. The auburn-haired Hufflepuff just couldn't understand what was going on. Usually, she was a calm, level-headed sort of girl (she had learned everything she knew from her Auntie Amelia); and yet she couldn't stop thinking about Harry James Potter. Like most girls in the magical community, Susan had once had a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived when she was a child (not a Ginny Weasley level of fanaticism, but she did have quite a good deal of admiration for the boy responsible for the downfall of the man who caused the death of almost her entire family); now, however, Susan couldn't help but get a warm feeling every time she thought of Harry Potter, Gryffindor third-year, protector of Hogwarts, and all-around decent guy.

Susan would never admit it, but she actually had started fancying Harry Potter last year; it was one of the reasons why she had told off Ernie for spreading those rumors about Harry being the Heir of Slytherin. The only reason why she hadn't sent him a Valentine's Day card last year was because she didn't want to embarrass either herself or Harry; besides, Lockhart's decision with those so-called "card-carrying cupids" was the most outlandish and stupid thing she had ever seen and she was loath to support something so ridiculous.

Fay Dunbar was uncertain.

She knew she was really starting to fancy Harry Potter; but she really shouldn't! Gryffindor girls lived by a code; they would never attempt to steal another Gryffindor girl's boyfriend; and just about every girl in Gryffindor suspected that Harry was dating Hermione. Fay wanted to bang her head against the wall in frustration. Why did fate have to be so cruel as to make Harry Potter such a wonderful person? His only real flaw was his excessive nobility that often led him to make stupidly honorable decisions (and even then, such a trait would typically be admired in a hero); Fay, herself, often thought more with her heart than her head.

Fay knew she would have to figure out how to solve her problem soon if she had any hope of getting through the rest of the year. Maybe she could join a club or something to keep her mind on other things; it was a pity that there were only House Quidditch teams, she had really gotten into the sport since she finally entered the magical community (especially the position of Beater; it reminded her of when she played baseball the first time she visited her uncle in America).

Luna Lovegood was happy.

She had spent a couple of wonderful evenings at Potter Manor and had danced several times with a boy she knew would one day be her husband. Not that Luna was an obsessive stalker like Ginny; it's just that she knew things. Her mother called it 'Foresight.' She also knew which girls would also get married to Harry James Potter. Just because Harry hadn't revealed that he needed six wives didn't mean that Luna wasn't able to know.

Luna smiled to herself.

"Fay is going to look so pretty in her wedding dress," Luna thought aloud. "I wonder if Daphne and Tracey are going to wear matching garters." She gave a happy sigh. "It's going to be so nice to have such a big family."

With that, the grinning blonde skipped off to ask her father about the traditions for polygamous weddings.

Hermione Granger was thoughtful.

Learning that her best friend had traveled through time was like something out of one of her favorite science-fiction programs on the telly. Everything she'd read about time-travel indicated that it was impossible for something like this to have happened; and yet, she knew that nothing ever seemed to be impossible for Harry Potter. Hermione wasn't sure when she'd started to develop serious feelings for Harry; perhaps it had been when he sent that letter to her during the summer, or maybe it was when he kissed her cheek while she was petrified, or maybe even when he jumped on the back of that troll in first year. One thing was certain, though, Hermione Granger was in love with Harry Potter.

That's when Hermione's thoughts shifted to what she had learned about the future. She couldn't believe that she had married Ron and that he had basically crushed her spirit according to what Harry described. She wasn't sure how she was going to restrain herself from strangling the red-headed bastard the next time she saw him.

Harry Potter was cheerful.

He'd just had one of the best Christmases of his life. Things were going according to plan, he'd gotten to spend time with the people he cared about, and Umbitch had been eaten by a giant blancmange. Before his holidays were over, the portrait of his father had told him there was a book in the Potter library about using runes to make portals that can be installed into a trunk. Harry had found the book and, after magically equipping his school trunk to have several new compartments, installed a portal directly to Potter Manor so he could come home whenever he wished and talk to Sirius or his parents' portraits.

And yet, despite everything going so well, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he had forgotten something.

Very far away, Christmas cheer was very thin for one Barty Crouch Jr. He'd been trapped in his father's house for more than ten years and wanted nothing more than to find his master and restore him to power. But the young Death Eater was patient; he knew that, sooner or later, he would get his chance.

Omake:

Meanwhile, very, very far away…

"Morning, Mrs. Crabbe."

"Morning, Mrs. Goyle."

"Busy day?"

"Busy? I just spent four hours burying the cat."

"Four hours to bury a cat?!"

"Yes, it wouldn't keep still; kept wriggling about, howling its head off."

"Oh, it wasn't dead, then?"

"Well, no, no, but it's not at all a well cat; and seeing as we was going away for a fortnight's holiday, I thought I'd better bury it just to be on the safe side."

"Quite right, you don't want to come back from Sorrento to a dead cat. Yes, kill it now, that's what I say."

"Yes."

"We're going to have to have our owl put down."

"Really? Is it very old?"

"No, we just don't like it. We're going to take it to the Menagerie tomorrow."

"Tell me, how do they put owls down, then?"

"Well, it's funny you should ask that, because I've just been reading this great big book about how to put your owl down. And apparently, you can either hit them with the book, or you can shoot them with a blasting hex just there above the beak."

"Well, well, well; of course, Mrs. Flint flushed hers down the loo."

"Oh! No, you shouldn't do that! No, that's dangerous; yes, they breed in the sewers. Eventually you'll get evil-smelling flocks of huge, soiled owls flying out of people's lavatories, infringing their personal freedom."

Author's Note: The last scene was just added in because of a need for Monty Python humor.

That's right! I decided to have Tracey be the one responsible for the blancmange. I had realized that I made Tracey fond of cooking as a pastime, and it all just fell into place.

Also, I have my reasons for choosing Fay as one of Harry's wives. While she does not appear specifically in canon, Fay is an established character and I felt this was a good opportunity to try characterizing her. Besides, it's not like the other Gryffindor girls have that much development either. At least Fay has some character description on the Harry Potter Wiki that I could use to get a basic idea of what she might be like.

Please review.