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SIYE Time:13:12 on 28th March 2024
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Harry Almighty
By lilyevans_Jan30

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Category: Mary Sue Challenge (2009-3)
Characters:None
Genres: Comedy, Crossover, Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 66
Summary: ** Winner of Best Overall in the Mary Sue Challenge **
Of course I knew that I didn't truly deserve to have Harry Potter as my boyfriend, but watching him strive to achieve his greatest honor since winning the Order of Merlin, I couldn't help but be glad that he let me come along for the ride.
Hitcount: Story Total: 17303; Chapter Total: 4486





Author's Notes:
It's been a long time since I entered a challenge, but this one sounded rather fun.

I should probably apologize to any Twilight fans who might be reading this but . . . nah.




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Prologue:

They stare at each other across the distance, swaying slightly in the air but never losing focus. I want to scream — a warning, or words of love — but I’m as frozen as the others who’ve burst outside to watch.

Pale eyes narrow, a thin lip curls up in a sneer. Suddenly I know this is about more than who will win that elusive prize.

I need my broom. I need to get up there. Now.


Chapter One: Hermione Should be Banned From Making us Recreate Ideas She Gets from Books — or Maybe Just Banned From Reading Altogether

I was sitting in the library reluctantly trying to finish my homework for potions. I say “reluctantly” not because I hate potions, but because the level of concentration required for this particular essay meant that I couldn’t pay as much attention as I’d like to my boyfriend, Harry Potter.

Boyfriend. Such a silly little word for what we had together. We both knew it was so so so much more, both knew that we were bonded together at the very depths of our beings, but it's not something we talked about with anyone other than our closest friends. Harry was too private a person - and I didn't like to brag - but it secretly thrilled me. When Harry had finally been able to rid himself of the tainted bit of Voldemort's soul, my own had stepped in to fill the void and heal his hurt. In return, Harry had filled me like I had never been filled before. Even as I tried to focus on my homework, I couldn't help but shiver with the glow of emotion I got from thinking about having Harry inside me.

Harry's spectacular power had grown after he destroyed Voldemort to include the ability to read other people's minds, but it was limited to certain . . . subjects. Only with me could he see everything I was thinking. Some people might get annoyed knowing their other half was able to read every thought in their head, but I loved it. Harry never had to doubt how much I truly loved him — he only had to look into my thoughts to see.

He of course had already finished his essay — schoolwork came so easily for him that I would have growled at the unfairness of it if he wasn’t also the most patient and wonderful tutor I could ever imagine. But I wanted to at least try to do the work myself first, instead of relying, yet again, on him.

Harry was playing absently with my hair, using his wand to twirl it into ringlets that fell around my face. “Are you sure you don’t want to read my notes?” he asked quietly.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I think I’m finally almost done here.” I looked up at him and my thoughts immediately muddled, as they always do. He smiled indulgently, reading the way my mind traced over the muscles in his shoulders and then moved down to his waist, before coming back to rest on his face.

Harry’s eyes. I think that as long as I live, I’ll never get used to how I feel every time I look into those perfect green orbs. They are windows to his very soul, and as hard as it is for me to believe, he opens those windows completely for me alone.

Even after all these months, I still can’t believe that he somehow loves me as much as I love him. I have so many faults — my boring brown eyes, my family’s eternal poverty, my weird name — and yet, Harry ignores all that and looks at me as if I just killed Voldemort myself and set him free from the prison of fate he lived in for all those years.

It’s enough for me that Voldemort — or Tom, as Harry called him — is no more. Harry was the one to destroy him, of course, at that epic battle between his Sixth and Seventh year. The pain and worry that shadowed Harry’s features for so long is finally gone and when I trace my hand down his cheek and feel him shiver beneath my fingertips I sometimes can’t believe that he’s real — that he’s mine — and that we are all safe.

************

I was reading over my essay again when I felt Harry shift in his seat next to me and groan slightly in disgust.

“What?” I asked, looking into his face. He didn’t seem particularly disturbed — there was no “Death Eaters at Hogwarts” look about him, but something was obviously upsetting him anyway.

I put my hand on his to ask again when the oddest thing happened — as soon as my skin touched his I got a flash of . . . something. Something red and brown and writhing. Something with books. I gasped.

“Ron and Hermione are snogging in the stacks!” I whispered.

Harry looked at me with disbelief. “How did you know that?”

“I think I saw it,” I responded. “When I touched you.” I looked down to where our hands were twined together. “Is that what you saw?”

Harry nodded. His face was pinched together in concentration. After a second, his forehead smoothed out and he grinned at me. “Do you know what this means?”

I rolled my eyes. He was always one or two steps ahead of me in his thoughts — I couldn’t keep up no matter how hard I tried.

He put his hand on my cheek. “Don’t be frustrated, Gem, I think this means it’s getting stronger.”

Gem is one of Harry’s sweet nicknames for me. He got it from my first two initials — GM - and he says that it should always remind me that I’m as precious as a rare jewel to him. The first time he told me that I thought he was joking — it just didn’t make sense that rich, gorgeous and powerful Harry Potter could be interested in me as anything but his best mate’s little sister. And yet somehow, he was.

“What do you mean, stronger?” I asked. The vision of my brother kissing his girlfriend had faded quickly, but I was sure of what I had seen.

“I mean, you were reading my mind, just like I can read yours! And all this time I thought you were blocking me, but no — when we touched, you could see me reading Ron’s thoughts. Or Hermione’s,” he added. He blushed.

“Don’t worry,” I said lightly, “I won’t tell Hermione you’ve been watching her again.”

It was actually rather amusing, although Harry never thought of it that way. He had always been powerful magically — much more so than the other students at Hogwarts. Sirius and Dumbledore had been teaching him how to draw upon the ancient Potter family magic — the essences, they’re called — and the results were sometimes spectacular. The massive shield he conjured wandlessly and wordlessly in the Ministry of Magic saved all of our lives, and the way he was able to use the essence of his mind to pull Sirius back from beyond the veil is something I still have trouble believing, even though I watched him do it.

It was after he killed Voldemort that Harry discovered the additional aspect of his power: he could read other people’s thoughts. Not all of their thoughts, however, (and this is where the amusing part comes in) but their sexual thoughts.

Harry usually tried to block what his classmates were thinking, both out of respect for their privacy and to preserve his sanity. As he described it, it quickly got tiring listening to the third-year boys worrying about getting aroused in class or the pining of yet another girl (or boy) who had a crush on Seamus Finnigan. The first time Harry accidentally eavesdropped on one of Pansy Parkinson’s sexual fantasies, I thought he was going to be sick right there in the Great Hall.

There were some compensations, of course. Harry had finally figured out Blaise Zabini’s sexual orientation and gender. I just wished he’d tell me.

“You’re right,” I said, excitement growing in my voice. “I saw something you were overhearing in someone else’s mind. Wow.” Maybe I’d learn Blaise’s gender one of these days after all.

I was focusing on using our mind connection to ask if he’d seen more than the brief kiss I’d witnessed when Hermione and Ron themselves appeared from around the corner of the bookshelf. Both were disheveled and Hermione, not surprisingly, was clutching an enormous book.

“Guess what!” she said enthusiastically.

“You just snogged my brother up against the Restricted Section,” I smirked.

“How did you . . .” she began, looking back and forth between Harry and me. Her face turned exasperated. “Harry!”

Harry raised his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry. But what are you so excited about?”

Behind him, Ron rolled his eyes. “I was trying to distract her,” he mouthed at Harry. Harry just shrugged and smiled.

“I almost forgot!” said Hermione. She dropped the book on the desk with a loud bang.

“Haven’t you memorized Hogwarts, A History yet?” I asked.

“Ages ago,” said Hermione, confused. “But what does that have to do with A Brief Treatise of Wizard-Muggle relations in the United States?”

“Huh?” I asked. Next to me, Harry slid his soft hands around my waist and for a second, as I breathed in the scent of treacle and broom polish and warm power that was uniquely Harry, I was completely distracted.

Ron was snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Hello, earth to Gineffa,” he said.

I broke out of my reverie and scowled at the family nickname Ron had started calling me as a toddler when he couldn’t pronounce his V’s. Nowadays, most of my brothers had shortened it to “Neffie”, which made me sound like a house elf.

Hermione was still flipping through the book. “This is so fascinating,” she muttered. She looked up at all of us. “Did you realize that in America, Wizard schools have adopted some of the traditions and social rituals of their Muggle counterparts?”

Harry was pressing light kisses along my neck and I had to force myself to concentrate. “Like what?” I managed to ask.

“Like prom,” Hermione said. “You know, a big fancy dance where everyone gets dressed up and goes with a date and sneaks off to snog in the gardens.

Next to her, Ron groaned. “Oh god, not another majorly significant social occasion that’s going to be used as a vehicle to pair up every student in the castle,” he said. “I told you, Hermione, no one here is interested.”

“And I told you that I think you’re wrong, Ron,” retorted Hermione. This was obviously a conversation they’d had before. “I think it would be a wonderful way to experience the traditions of American wizard students and Muggles first hand. The educational possibilities are endless!”

Hermione had that slightly manic look in her eye that I used to associate with her stance on the enslavement of house-elves. "Oh god, not another of Hermione's causes," I thought to myself before sighing and turning my attention fully to Harry’s lips. One way or another, I was sure, Hogwarts was going to have a prom.

A/N: There's more to come, obviously. Challenge requirements used in chapter 1:

Super!Harry

Confusion about Blaise's gender

Ginny skipped ahead a year

Harry and Ginny soul bonded

Multiple variations on Ginny's name

I also inserted the following fanfic cliche's:

A "Yule Ball" type event

Hermione carries heavy books around and gets up on a soapbox about something she read in them.
Reviews 66
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