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SIYE Time:21:57 on 28th March 2024
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Harry Potter and the Canary Creams
By DebbieO

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:None
Genres: Comedy
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 12
Summary: A HP spoof. Only read if you're in the mood for extreme silliness. I had fun writing it and hope you enjoy it.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4117



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
I had an idea that started out serious and took a turn for the goofy. I hope it gives you a laugh.




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Harry groaned and covered his head with his pillow. He desperately wanted a couple more hours of sleep, but the banging wouldn’t let up.

“Ron!” he yelled. “Hold it down out there.”

Ron either didn’t hear, or didn’t care that he was keeping his best mate awake with all his slamming, cursing and stomping.

Grumbling, Harry rolled out of bed and entered the kitchen mumbling, “Wha’s goin’ on?”

A red-faced Ron Weasley glared at him. “Bloody woman…working all the time, telling me what to do…” he rambled, pacing. “You could do so much more, Ronald. Why don’t you apply to the Ministry, Ronald?” He stopped and stared at Harry indignantly, “I wasn’t cut out to wear dress robes every day and write cauldron bottom reports!”

Harry rubbed his eyes and grunted in response. He knew Ron was unlikely to listen to anything he might say in his present mood. He was glad of it, too. He wasn’t conscious enough to mediate this battle. Besides, he had his issues of his own.

Eight months ago, Harry had trounced the evil Lord Voldemort, bane of wizardkind, with the help of his two best friends and some Canary Creams. As things turned out, Voldemort was terrified of birds. When Harry transformed, via the confection, he scared Voldemort to death.

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes became a multi-billion galleon company almost overnight and the twins were living large. Fred, George and Harry had each received the Order of Merlin, First Class, and because Fred and George actually enjoyed the media attention, their fame had far eclipsed Harry’s. Harry was grateful for this. He had no need to work, thanks to his parents’ fortune and his WWW investment, so he took a well-deserved gap year to recover from his own bird phobia. Voldemort shared his terror with Harry through the curse scar before he died, and Harry’s trauma was severe.

Ron got a job working for Quality Quidditch Supplies and Hermione began her career as a Ministry Unspeakable. Ginny was finishing school. Harry smiled, anticipating her return. It was hard for him to visit her at Hogwarts with all the birds in the Forbidden Forest. Hedwig was offended by his trembling and refused to deliver his mail. Soon, Ginny would be home, at the Burrow, where he could see her by apparating or flooing, and his avian challenges could be avoided…if not overcome.

Harry was trying to face his fears. He regularly visited the great Jungian wizard, Healer Freudlich, who seemed to think he could desensitize himself by watching bird documentaries and find comfort in pretending Hedwig was his mother. Harry thought it might be helping. He hadn’t screamed when Hedwig appeared in months.

Ron continued to rant and stomp while Harry ate his toast and tea. Ranting didn’t keep Ron from nicking half of the toast off Harry’s plate in passing. When he knocked the tea over, Harry finally spoke up.

“Oy, mate…watch it!” Harry scrambled to keep the tea mess on the table by mopping it with the tablecloth.

“Ugh…sorry,” Ron said in a lower voice, pausing to rescue the dishes from Harry’s reckless attempt to keep the sticky mess off the floor. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been ranting about Hermione all morning. Why don’t you talk to her and let me sleep?”

“Talk to her, talk to her…” Ron muttered to himself. “Mate, you know Hermione. She’s not exactly good at listening when she’s got an agenda.”

Harry nodded, mulling the problem over. Hermione could be a touch single-minded. Getting her to change her plans was a bit like trying to tear a side of beef from the jaws of a hungry lion. Harry switched tactics and said, “Ron, are you happy at Quality Quidditch Supplies?”

“I, uh…well, I …you know I love Quidditch,” Ron waxed poetic.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I asked you.” Harry was beyond annoyed.

“Well, I dunno. It’s not all I ever want to do. I just want time to figure things out,” Ron admitted.

“Then tell Hermione that. She loves you, mate. She wants you to be happy.”

Ron’s ears turned red. “What do you know?”

“More than you. I’ve had to watch you two play your mating game since fourth year. Get on with it, why don’t you?”

“You’re one to talk. I don’t see you cozying up to my sister.”

“B..but…that’s different…the forest…b…birds…” Harry started to panic.

“Easy mate,” Ron said. “Breathe…birds are nice, they won’t hurt you.”

“W…won’t hurt,” Harry said, gripping the table with both hands.

“Good, easy now,” Ron said patiently. “Remember, Hedwig?” Ron turned away before rolling his eyes. He knew it would take time for Harry to shake Voldemort’s parting gift. He still couldn’t believe the old snake was so terrified of birds it killed him.

There was a knock on the door. “Nine a.m.,” Harry muttered, “must be Hermione.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered. “I need a shirt.”

Harry trudged across the room to answer the door. Hermione breezed in carrying an armload of career catalogs for Ron.

“Er, Hermione…it might not be a good idea to give those to Ron right now,” Harry whispered.

“Why on earth not?” she demanded. “Ronald needs to explore his options. He has so much potential…” A dreamy look overtook her. Harry tried to hide his gagging.

Hermione entered the kitchen and started making tea. “Honestly, I would have thought you’d at least have made tea this morning. You boys are so lazy.”

“I did make tea,” Harry said. “Your boyfriend spilled it all over the table.”

“My boyfriend? What are you on about, Harry? You know I don’t have a boyfriend!” Hermione’s face was a deep puce, and she stood at the sink with water flowing freely over the top of the teapot.

“Boyfriend?” Ron’s voice preceded him into the room. “Who has a boyfriend?” he demanded, his face matching Hermione’s.

Harry shouted something inarticulate and slammed his fist on the counter. “Merlin’s beard, you two. I was talking about you. You like her,” he said pointing at Hermione. “You like him,” he continued, gesturing at Ron. “Just get together already and let me go back to sleep!” Harry stomped out of the kitchen rubbing his hand.

“Well, er…” Ron stammered. “That was uncalled for.”

“Completely,” Hermione affirmed. “I, um, brought you some lovely career catalogs to look at,” Hermione said, reddening again. “Er, that is…if you want to look at them.”

Ron looked at the table a minute, his expression fluctuating between hope and disgust. “Thanks,” he said, relenting. “I guess I could look at them.”

Hermione nodded eagerly and began directing him toward the many pages she had dog-eared and highlighted for him.

***

A nightmare awakened Harry the day Ginny returned. She was standing before him, glorious in the sunshine. He was running toward her, desperate to confess his love. She smiled and opened her arms to him. The sun was setting and everything smelled like flowers. He reached for her, swinging her into his embrace. Then, just as his lips were about to touch hers, Ginny abruptly became a canary.

Harry screamed and leapt from the bed, drenched in sweat.

He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, regulating his breathing and reminding himself that he had always liked birds. Hedwig was a bird and he loved her…well, in a terror-stricken sort of way.

With Gryffindor courage, Harry decided he’d had enough of his fear. He stalked across the room toward his mirror, “I am Harry James Potter,” he shouted at his reflection. “I killed Voldemort. I will not fear birds!”

“That’s the spirit,” the mirror replied drearily.

Before he could change his mind, Harry ran to the window and called Hedwig, whom he could see perching in a tree nearby. She landed on his arm and he felt his stomach twist. Instead of screaming, he petted her head and she nipped his finger affectionately. Harry huffed a bit, telling himself it was a kiss, not a bite. “Good girl,” he whispered huskily. He forced himself to stroke her feathers. They were soft…nice. He carried her inside and found some owl treats. Hedwig hooted approvingly and took them from his hand.

With every second, Harry felt calmer.

Finally, Harry left Hedwig in his room and took a shower. It was a new day. He was well; he could feel it.

Harry decided to ride his broomstick to the Weasleys’ rather than floo or apparate. It would give him a chance to encounter more birds before seeing Ginny.

Traveling in and out of the tree line, Harry saw many different species of birds on the way. None of them harmed him. He felt better than ever as he landed on the Weasleys’ Quidditch pitch.

Ginny apparated onto the lawn right before he landed. “Harry,” she gasped. “You were flying!”

He jogged over and swept her off her feet. “I’m better!”

“When? How?”

“This morning,” he said, looking deeply into her warm, brown eyes. He hastened to explain, “I had an awful nightmare about you. We were finally back together, but just as I went to kiss you, you turned into a canary.”

Ginny gasped, horrified. She knew his fear of canaries was particularly strong.

“When I woke up, I knew I couldn’t let this hold me back. I held Hedwig and stroked her. She ate out of my hand. I like birds, Ginny. I like you, too.”

“Oh Harry, you know I like you,” she smiled, taking his hand.

“Fly with me, Ginny?”

“Together we’ll soar,” she replied.
Reviews 12
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