|
Harry Almighty | ||||||
|
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: 17333; Chapter Total: 3471 Author's Notes: Whew. I don't know if I need a cigarette or a sharp slap across my face for this story, but it's finally done. It was definitely an interesting experience - hopefully one that will help me avoid some of these mistakes in my real writing. Thanks for reviewing! |
Previous |
|
||||
|
Harry and I watched silently as Malfoy walked away. The second he turned the corner I turned to my boyfriend. I didn’t even try to mask the panic in my eyes as I grabbed his hand. (TOUCH) *Harry, how could you let him goad you like that? Anything could happen when the two of you are up in the air alone.* Harry chuckled. (TOUCH) *Relax, Ginny. It’s going to be fine — easy even. I’m the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever had, remember? There’s no way Malfoy could beat me.* (TOUCH) *But didn’t you hear him, Harry? He wants to bring his own snitch! I just know he’s got something evil and nefarious planned.* (TOUCH) *Maybe he does. But he’s certain to bungle it up in the end. I’m sure he has completely failed to think his plan through clearly. He’s too focused on . . . other things.* Before I could ask what he meant, Harry was suddenly kissing me urgently, pressing his body up against mine right there in the hallway. My mind went all fuzzy as I enjoyed the way his lips traced over my face and my limbs felt like they were turning to mush. With only the greatest of effort was I able to break the kiss and look my boyfriend in the eye. I didn’t even bother using our mind bond to talk to him — I wanted some answers. “What is it, Harry? Malfoy keeps thinking something that you are trying to keep from me — you need to tell me what's going on?” “It’s nothing, Ginny-love. Really. Let’s just go find one of Hogwarts' 476 broom closets to snog in. Or better yet, the Room of Requirement. You know the second we walk in, it will present us with a large, comfy sofa (or possibly a bed, depending on the direction our thoughts take), a roaring fire, pictures of my parents I’ve never seen before so that I can cry in your arms, and any number of books we can’t find anywhere else that answer pressing questions about how to defeat previous unknown evils.” “Don’t forget the several house-elves at our beck and call,” I added, shivering with anticipation. We started to walk in that direction. “Wait a minute,” I said, stopping. “You’re distracting me.” Harry smiled. “Do you mind?” “Only when I know you’re doing it to keep something from me. You won’t even touch me when Malfoy is around — what’s he thinking that you don’t want me to know?” Harry sighed. “Malfoy is thinking particularly evil thoughts about me. I just didn’t want you to worry.” He hugged me to him. “I can’t help it if I want to protect you from everything that might upset you. I didn’t have parents to take care of me, you know.” My heart melted when I heard that. “Oh Harry,” I sighed. “I don’t deserve you.” Harry chuckled. “Of course you do, Ginny. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” I didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hand tighter and pulled him towards the Room of Requirement. Unfortunately, we were interrupted before we got there. “Harry, Ginny, is it true?” Hermione was running towards us. Beside me, I heard Harry groan in frustration. “Is what true, Hermione?” he asked. “That you and Malfoy are skipping the entire campaign and voting process for Prom King and having an airborne duel instead?” “News travels fast,” I remarked dryly. “Oh Harry, how could you?” complained Hermione. “The Yule Prom is supposed to be as close to the Muggle version as possible — you know, with posters and speeches and voting for the King and Queen before the winners are finally announced in the middle of the evening so they can have their first dance together in the center of the hall with a big spotlight on them.” “I thought Muggle proms were basically just a popularity contest to pick the King and Queen,” said Harry. “Yeah,” I added, remembering an old Muggle movie I’d seen. “And then in the middle, an unattractive, unpopular girl who’s been wronged by everyone storms into the dance and wreaks havoc with her magical powers.” “Since pretty much everyone at the castle has their own magical powers, that particular plot is out,” said Harry. “So why can’t we just have our fun air battle to the death to pick the King?” “To the death?” I yelled. “No way.” Harry pulled me into a hug. “It’s just an expression, silly Ginny. I promise not to do anything more than maim Draco a little bit. Rip the little salamander’s leather pants, that sort of thing.” “Why does Harry always refer to Malfoy in weird animal terms?” wondered a First Year who was passing. Harry didn’t bother to answer, he just turned back to Hermione, a beseeching look on his face. I recognized that look. Harry used it on me whenever he wanted something — the last piece of treacle tart, a walk around the grounds when we should be studying, another good night kiss — and I was a total sucker for it. Hermione seemed immune though. (Probably a good thing, too. No matter what some people thought, Harry and Hermione did not belong together as anything besides friends). “Come on, Hermione, it’ll be great. And I know it will get a lot more people interested in the Prom.” “Fine,” Hermione finally huffed. “I can see I’m not going to change your mind. When is this battle going to be, anyway?” Harry looked at his watch. “Uhh, in about 20 minutes, actually. I guess we’d better get down to the pitch.” News had traveled fast; it seemed like the entire school was walking with us towards the stadium. Many were carrying banners proclaiming allegiance to either Harry or Draco. I was relieved to see how many more “Potter for Prom King” signs there were than those for Draco, but my boyfriend’s apparent support among the student body did nothing to calm the butterflies in my stomach when I thought of him up in the sky, alone against Malfoy. Although most of the students walked up into the stands, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna and I marched with Harry to the center of the pitch. He’d changed into his Quidditch robes and I expected to see Malfoy in the Slytherin green so it was quite a shock when he came striding onto the pitch in black leather cut-off shorts and no shirt. The look on Harry’s face could only be described as murderous as he stared Malfoy down. I tried to grab Harry’s hand to get a sense of what Malfoy was thinking, but Harry quickly pulled his arm away from me and shook his head very slightly. “Not now,” he murmured under his breath before turning to Malfoy. The Slytherin was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, of course, as well as Pansy and Blaise, who were holding hands. The rumor around the castle - never confirmed — was that Pansy was a lesbian; I wondered what message she was trying to send, being seen with Blaise. Whatever it was, I didn’t get it. But there was no more time for pondering. Harry gave me the quickest of kisses and mounted his broom. Malfoy turned to Crabbe, who pulled a snitch out of his pocket and gave it to him. With what only could be described as a smirk, Malfoy looked at Harry and said, “the rules are simple — whoever gets the snitch first wins. Everything.” He opened his hand and the snitch flew into the air and disappeared. Seconds later, Harry and Draco followed it. Watching was awful. The two of them circled the pitch for a couple of minutes and then began looking for the snitch in earnest. At first, it looked like Harry might grab the prize quickly — he streaked towards a spark of gold so fast his robes were a blur, whizzing around the pitch so quickly I got dizzy trying to watch him. But at the last second, he pulled out of the spin; apparently he’d lost sight of the snitch. Oddly, Malfoy had joined Harry’s chase rather late, and with a gasp of recognition, I knew that my worst fear had come true — Malfoy had bewitched the snitch. The snitch was dancing and spinning around crazily — more crazily than usual — and it was soon obvious what Malfoy’s plan was. He would get Harry so dizzy and confused trying to grab the snitch that he couldn’t continue, and then Malfoy would swoop down and wrongly steal the prize. I wrung my hands on the ground as I watched my boyfriend and his arch nemesis flying circles in the sky, Harry continuing his crazy moves in a desperate attempt to grab the tiny golden ball. He was so intent on his task that he didn’t seem to notice that Draco was not following him. I wanted so badly to warn Harry about Draco’s plot; Pansy and Blaise were laughing at the sight in the sky and Ron and Hermione were glancing up with growing concern on their faces as well. This was not going to end well. Draco had taken out his wand and was lazily zapping at Harry every time his spinning landed him near the snitch; even from my distance I could tell that Harry was getting discombobulated and exhausted. I had half a mind to grab my own broom and put a stop to the madness when Draco suddenly looked down to the ground and met my eye. Merlin, she’s hot — even if she is an impoverished Gryffindor. A couple more minutes and Potter won’t know which end is up. I’ll knock him off his broom and swoop up both the Prom King and his girlfriend. Hmmm, I wonder if she’d wear a leather bustier? “Stop it, Malfoy!” I heard Harry bellow from above. I looked around, trying to figure out whose voice I had been hearing, when suddenly it all made sense. I was reading Harry’s mind — as he heard Malfoy’s thoughts — without having to touch him! Suddenly his behavior over the last days made sense. He hadn’t been trying to protect me from Malfoy’s evil thoughts about him; he didn’t want me to know that Malfoy was having disgusting sexual fantasies about me. The flash of fury that flowed through me when I realized the extent of Malfoy’s plot was truly staggering. That must have been the reason behind his ridiculous outfit. I could hear everything Harry was hearing and it made me sick — almost as sick as I could tell Harry was becoming, spinning around the pitch. I tried to yell at him in my mind, to warn him what was going on, but the interference from Mafoy was overwhelming. . . . chains and a leather leash . . . and I wonder if she’s into threesomes? Or I could use my pet tarantula — I bet that would turn her on . . . Harry was so angry about what Draco was thinking he couldn’t hear me. His anger was filling up his entire mind and I knew he couldn’t even call on his essences to help him. And his grip on his broom was slipping . . . Desperately I looked around for help. None of the professors had come out to watch the duel and most of the students thought it was all part of the show. Hermione had her wand out, half pointed at the sky, but we both knew that if she used magic to stop the battle, Malfoy would declare himself the winner. As I watched from below, the need to be up there in the sky helping grew stronger and stronger. I felt the pull of desire radiate out from my core. It flowed down my arms into my fingertips, and suddenly, they weren’t fingers at all. They were wings. I stretched my neck back and realized my vision had suddenly become so much sharper. Without even thinking about it I trilled a warning, and my voice, birdlike a sweet, carried up to the sky — to Harry. I was flying — I was a bird. Harry had told me that once you completed your first Animagus transformation, the later ones were easier, especially when your magic was strong. As I flew swiftly up to help my boyfriend, I realized that I must be drawing on his magic too — through our mind connection — and that our combined power had allowed me to make the change. He was still manically chasing the snitch, his face pale, and didn’t notice me at first. Malfoy was swooping around him cackling, and the things he was thinking were getting progressively worse. I seethed. Without really thinking about it, I flew up and landed on the back of Malfoy’s broom. Until that moment, I hadn’t paid attention to what kind of bird I’d become, but by the way the end of his broom tilted with my weight, I knew I was a big one — a Harpy, apparently. Malfoy’s eyes grew wide. “Shoo!” he screamed, pulling out his wand. Before he could cast a spell I grabbed the wand in my beak and dropped it to the ground. “Stupid bird!” Malfoy yelled. He turned his broom and began streaking after his wand. I let go and used my exceptionally sharp avian vision to immediately locate the snitch. Harry was following it more slowly now, his face a faint green. I zeroed in on its movements and flew — fast as an arrow, to the tiny fluttering ball. It’s wings were no match for mine and in a second, I’d captured it in my beak. Harry looked up in surprise as I flew to his broom and deposited the snitch in his palm. “Ginny?” he asked uncertainly. In response, I focused hard and morphed back into myself, sitting right behind him on his broom’s long shaft. He leaned back against me and closed his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered. “I couldn’t have held on much longer.” “Of course,” I murmured back, lightly kissing his hair. “I figured it was time for me to save you, for once.” “You always save me, Ginny. Every single day.” By the time we landed, Malfoy was in full ranting mode, arguing that Harry had cheated by using me to help him. Hermione was up in his face in an instant, yelling back. “And what about that snitch, Draco? The one you brought? If I were to take it to Professor Flitwick, what kind of special charms do you think he’d find on it?” Malfoy shut up then and glared at all of us. After a long moment, he turned and motioned to Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy and Blaise looked up from their snog-session and followed along. As they left, I heard him say petulantly, “I thought you promised me that plan was foolproof.” Harry and I looked at each other for a heartbeat before throwing ourselves into each other’s arms and kissing passionately. All around us people were cheering and Hermione was yelling that Harry was now Hogwarts’ official Prom King. Ron had been awfully silent throughout the entire ordeal, and now his face reflected a familiar mix of anger and jealousy. Luckily, Hermione recognized this pretty quickly and pulled him towards her before he could say something idiotic that would cause him and Harry not to speak for a couple of weeks. *Do you want to go back to the castle?* I thought. “Hey!” said Harry. “You’re not touching me!” *I know,* I thought. *Apparently I don’t have to anymore.* Harry got a panicked look on his face and tried to hide it. I looked at him oddly for a moment — why was he suddenly reciting his History of Magic homework in his head? But then something broke through his recitation of the Goblin rebellion of 1645 and by the embarrassed look on his face I realized he’d been trying to keep his thoughts from me. Normally, this would be cause for concern. But I didn’t give him any idea I knew what was going on, just kissed him deeply and then took his hand for the walk back to the castle. After all, I had to hide my thoughts too now. It wouldn’t do for him to realize I’d seen the gorgeous emerald and ruby engagement ring set in white and yellow gold he’d been thinking about in his head. Smiling to myself, I walked to the castle with my soon-to-be fiancée. My life was absolutely perfect. |
| Reviews 66 |
Previous
|
