Post Voldemort, harry discovers the horror that is the personal ad, and finds he must deal with an all new all evil Dark Organization
Harry Potter and the Personal Ads
A blurry eyed Harry Potter stumbled down the stairs from the 7th year boy’s dormitory to the Gryffindor common room. Even with Tom gone for six months now, he still couldn’t manage to sleep through the night without potions. Potions he stubbornly refused to use.
Not a healthy train of thought he mused as he threw himself onto one of the sofas. As was usual at four am, the common room was empty, the fireplace banked, and the room lit only by a few flickering wall sconces.
Why couldn’t he sleep? Tom was gone. Malfoy’s father, Bellatrix, all the Death Eaters were gone. Why couldn’t he sleep? Harry knew the answer. He felt the pain of every victim, the loss of every family. There were those who blamed him for the deaths he hadn’t prevented. Hell, he blamed himself for the deaths he hadn’t prevented.
Shaking his head as if to jar that thought loose, Harry noticed the copy of the Daily Prophet laid on the table where Lavender and Parvati had left it the night before. He reached out to pick the paper up, and was unsurprised to find that the giggling pair had been looking through the personals. Even after all that happened, those two were just so… normal.
SMM: 17. Seeks double-jointed supermodel type who owns a brewery. Access to free concert tickets a plus, as is an open minded twin sister. Contact Seamus F. ref: DP30421
Harry stifled a laugh. Pure Seamus, it couldn’t be anyone else. Of course the damned Irishman would get half dozen replies and the women would mud wrestle to decide who got him. Lucky Bastard.
SMM: 38. Potions Master. Hideous-looking, greasy haired, smelly, ill-tempered, lazy, cowardly, chronically abusive, and a complete bastard seeks total opposite for romance and meaningless sex. Bushy hair a plus. Contact Sevvie S ref: DP1923
Harry’s laughter terminated immediately. Surely not. It couldn’t be… Wizards of generations past had odd names on average… Surely Snape wasn’t the only potions master named ‘Sev’… right? “Bushy hair a plus”? What was that Brain Bleach spell?
SMM: 97. Short, charms-minded, balding, partially blind ex-professional duelist with a passion for covering lovers in sour cream and gravy seeks exotic, heavily tattooed piercing fanatic, preferably hairy and stinky, either sex, for whippings, bizarre sex and fashion consulting. No freaks. Contact The Wick Man. Ref: DP0043
The Man-Who-Conquered was starting to think he should be putting the paper down and walking away from it as quickly as he could. He refused to believe the association he had just made. He refused to believe that Professor Flitwick would ever…
SMM: 38. Bitter, unsuccessful middle aged loser who yearns for his happier youth while wallowing in an unending sea of inert, drooping loneliness looking for a specific 24 year old needy leech-like hanger-on with pink hair to abuse with dull stories, tired sex and Herb Alpert albums. Come back to me Baby, you’ll be my Tijuana Taxi, I’ll be your furry little problem. Contact Romulus L. Ref: DP6548
Pink hair? Furry little problem? Romulus? Who did he think he was fooling? Was Remus using the personals to talk to Tonks? This was wrong, so very wrong. It was like a car wreck, he didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
SMM: 17. Submissive male seeks dominant female with extensive knowledge of knots. Redheads a big plus. Contact Drake-O ref: DP982451
Drake-O? Drake-O? Who the hell did he think he was fooling? Redheads?
SMF: 64. When I was thirty my dates had to be young, tall, handsome, rich, intelligent. Now I'm 64, they only have to know how to read and use an owl! Contact Miss Kitty. Ref: DP4580
That could be anyone. Harry told himself. Why am I reading these things? Stop reading this you idiot before you do yourself damage! Harry wet his lips and looked to the next ad.
SMM: 17. Looking for SMF 18-65 for an intimate encounter with my Mum and myself in a threesome. She's a young 53 yrs of age and she's very pretty. 4' 3" 420 lbs. Sure, her tits drag on the carpet till her nipples bleed and she had to lift them and her belly out of the way just to sit down, but she's beautiful. The things she does with her teeth are out of this world, too, especially when they’re in her mouth. Little Won is three and a half inches long. I hope that's not too big for you ladies. If it is, I promise to be gentle. Anyway, Mum’s got dinner ready, and I gotta go take a shit to clear out some room, so I'll just wait for you ladies to respond if you think you can handle all this Red Headed love. If you just want Mum, that's cool too. I can just watch. Let me know soon. Contact Won-Won. Ref: DP432654
The words NO-NO-NO-NO-NO ran though Harry’s head. Not Ron and … No-no-no-NO!
SMF: 16. Obnoxious, silly, pierced, tattooed, insane, hormonally unbalanced, potion using, bat-bogey casting, Savior-watching redhead student from Hell, seeking Harry. My body is all yours. I’M YOUR PONY HARRY, RIDE ME. Contact Gin. Ref: DP786234876
Harry dropped the paper, heaved himself from the sofa and ran to the far side of the room, trying not to scream in terror. This couldn’t be real. This must be one of the Twin’s jokes… Right? Sure, a joke paper. Ha, they got me this time. A joke. Ha!
Please god, let it be a joke.
After five minutes of standing on the far side of the room, Harry began to feel very silly. Even if it wasn’t a joke paper (which it had to be!), was there really anything all that wrong with people looking for love? Of course not (excepting that Ron and his Mum thing, and that Ginny and him thing, those two were just WRONG!.)
Harry returned to the sofa he had been laying on. Harry picked up the paper again. No more personal ads. On the off chance this turned out to be the real thing, he didn’t need to be clawing his eyes out. He began to page through the paper in search of the Quidditch league scores, when, while still in the ads section, he noticed a large ad circled in red. His curiosity overwhelmed his better judgment and noting that this was in the Employment section, he began to read the highlighted ad.
20-30 henchmen needed for moderately-sized Dark organization with large expansion potential (magical fortresses built into geological structures, corruption of government officials, and possible genesis of 'nemesis' vigilante). The Magical themed Corvid-Talon organization is seeking applicants willing to learn new skills, including but not limited to the operation of specialized 'combat curses' including but not limited to the Unforgivables. Applicants will also be required to wear specialized uniform when at work (functional traditional robes with open faced hoods.), except in cases where deception is required (posing as hostages in order to ambush vigilantes, etc) Corvid-Talon employees will always display their faces to the world.
Desired (but not necessarily required) in applicants:
- interesting deformations/obsessions/abilities giving rise to interesting nicknames (e.g. Lucky, Moldishorts, Wormtail, or similar)
- unwavering loyalty
- being an easily corruptible government official
- ability to work as part of a close-knit team (unless interesting obsession is of the 'lone wolf' variety)
- Markmanship is a must. Any applicants unable to hit a moving man sized target seven times out of ten shots will be used as a moving man sized target for the next group of applicants.
- Holding a grudge against any well-known vigilante
- A flexible moral code
- All applicants should appear before and swear fealty to The Dark Ladies Athena, Saraswati, and Selene
Equal opportunity employer. Both henchmen and femmes fatales absolutely welcome.
Great promotion opportunities - right-hand-(wo)man positions constantly being unexpectedly opened. Would look good on any future Dark villain resume/CV.
Send an owl with details of any prior henchperson work, or details of what is driving you to join the ranks of a Dark organization. Will reply to all serious applicants. Hope to hear from you, and with luck, welcome you into a rewarding and promising career as a Dark Henchman!
* Location: London, but planned global expansion
* Compensation: 10,000 Galleon per annum starting salary, with added commissions based around success of dark operations and any incidental theft. Contracts negotiable depending on applicant's personal skills/abilities
Special bonuses available for Metamorphic and Animorphic abilities.
Note: Animagus forms must be in some way useful.
* Principals only. Recruiters need not apply. If the applicant isn’t dark enough to deal with our application process, perhaps a different vocation is in order.
* Please do not contact us about other services, products or commercial interests upon pain of death. We know who you are.
Dark ladies? Harry sighed, hoping against hope that this was the latest joke of a joke Newspaper. What was going on here? Since when were such things advertized? This had to be a joke.
Breakfast in the Great Hall seemed more or less normal. Ron was eating like a starved man as usual, so he was missing the way Harry kept glancing at him. The morning rush of Owls delivering the morning post, and to his great surprise a rather regal Horned Owl landed in the middle of Harry’s plate and offered it’s leg to him.
“You’re a cheeky one aren’t you?” Harry said gently removing the roll of parchment from the bird’s leg.
The Owl rolled its eyes in a most owl like manner, then dipped its head to take a piece of bacon off his plate.
“Oh, by all means, help yourself.” Harry said unrolling the roll of parchment.
April 12, 1998
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Seat Thirty Four
Dear Mr. Potter,
Congratulations on your selection as the Primary Designated Nemesis of the Corvid-Talon organization. It is with great enthusiasm that we welcome you to the exciting field of Designated Nemesis. Dark Ladies Athena, Saraswati, and I look forward to many years of plotting your down fall, planning death traps, kidnapping your loved ones, and of course attempts on your life.
You've got the reputation; you've certainly got the DADA scores. And now you've got a letter from Corvid-Talon. Maybe you're surprised. Most heroes would be.
But you're not most heroes. And that's exactly why my partners and I urge you to consider carefully attempting to thwart one of the most selective dark organizations in the world.
The level of potential reflected in your performance against the Dark Lord Voldemort is a powerful indicator that you might well be an excellent designated nemesis for Corvid-Talon. It certainly got our attention!
Technomagery's not for you? No problem. It may surprise you to learn we offer more than forty major fields of villainy, from Bunko to mind magics and cognitive sciences, from embezzling (perhaps the best plots in the world) to writing whiney country music songs.
What? Of course, you don't want to be bored. Who does? Life here is tough and demanding, but it's also fun. Corvid-Talon minions are imaginative and creative - inside and outside working hours.
You're interested in athletics? Great! Corvid-Talon has been fixing more game for more professional sports - 39 - than almost any other dark organization, and a tremendous amateur program so everybody can participate.
You think we're too psychotic? Don't be too sure. We've got surprises for you there, too.
Why not send the enclosed Information Request to find out more about this unique organization? Why not do it right now?
Dark Lady Selene,
Director of Nemesis Relation
P.S. If you'd like a copy of a fun-filled, fact-filled brochure, Death threat, just check the appropriate box on the form.
It was things like this that made Harry really miss Tom Riddle. He may have been a homicidal maniac, but at least he didn’t send smarmy letters like this.
This had to be a joke. He glanced around trying to spot the twins. But they weren’t in anywhere in sight. Ok, fine. If they were going to these lengths, the least he could do is play along. From his book bag he pulled a sheet of parchment.
“What’s all this Harry?” Hermione asked coming to the table for a bite before her first class.
“Just some fan mail from some flounder.” Harry muttered digging in his bag for his quill. He looked up to see Hermione looking at him oddly. “Sorry. Just a letter I have to answer so that this owl will get out of my plate.”
He inked his quill. “Nothing up my sleeve…”
“But that trick never works.” Hermione said giggling.
“No doubt about it, I’ve got to write another letter.”
Harry squared his shoulders and began to write.
April 12, 1998
Dark Lady Selene
Corvid-Talon Director of Nemesis Relations
Where ever the hell you are.
Dear Dark Lady Selene:
You've got the delusions. You've certainly got the pomposity. And now you've got a letter from Harry Potter. Maybe you're surprised. Most dark organizations would be.
But you're not most dark organizations. And that's exactly why I urge you to carefully consider one of the most selective Nemesis’ in the world, so selective that he will probably choose as many as none of the thousands of accredited dark organizations in the world.
The level of pomposity and lack of tact reflected in your letter is a powerful indicator that your august organization might well be a possibility for Harry Potter’s future villain needs. It certainly got my attention!
Don't want Slacker sidekicks? No problem. It may surprise you to learn that my interests cover over 400 fields of heroism, from magical animal control to self resurrection, from Dark Lord Termination (perhaps one of the youngest professionals in the world) to classical damsel rescuing.
What? Of course you don't want egotistical jerks. Who does? I am self indulgent and over-confident, but I'm also amusing. Harry Potter is funny and amusing - whether you're laughing with him or at him.
You're interested in athletes? Great! Harry Potter has played more sports - 47 - than almost any other Hero, including oddball favorites such as Gob Stones
You think I will pay your organizational fees? Don't be too sure. I've got surprises for you there, too.
Why not send a deposit of twenty million galleons to increase your chances of being selected by Harry Potter? Why not do it right now?
One hell of a guy.
P.S. If you'd like a copy of a fun-filled, fact-filled brochure, Harry Potter: What a Guy! just ask.
Satisfied that this was as smart assed an answer as was possible, Harry rolled the sheet up and fastened it to the leg of the Owl, which took a dump on his plate, then took flight with his answer.
Harry looked down at his ruined meal and wondered if the day could possibly get any worse.