Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Not Again!

Chapter 13

by Forty_Two 0 reviews

I'm ba-a-a-ack...

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres: Humor,Parody - Characters: Harry,Hermione - Warnings: [!!!] [V] [?] - Published: 2015-06-22 - 2210 words

Chapter 13

Not five minutes into the welcoming back feast, the Great Hall's doors were thrown open a second time. Everyone turned to look, except for the four Ravenclaws who were currently busy stemming the flow of blood from their various wounds.


The Hufflepuff table erupted in hushed whispers - if it's indeed possible to 'erupt' in hushed whispers, that is. The Slytherin table erupted in much louder whispers, some of which were of sufficient volume to make out the words 'Malfoy' and 'ear' if one were listening carefully.

The Ravenclaws seemed excited by the new arrival and whispers of "Lessons!" could be heard plainly.

Over at the Gryffindor table no one bothered to whisper. The reactions were mixed between shouts of welcome and groans of disappointment. Two of the Gryffs - two first-years sporting scimitars - jumped up from their seats and ran up to wrap the newcomer in welcoming hugs.

"Later!" the Girl-in-Black swept Harry and Hermione aside after a very brief greeting. She squared her shoulders and marched purposefully up the main aisle to stand before the High Table. "Where's Dumbledore?" she asked formally, her eyes searching the High Table.

"He's dead," the Acting Headmistress stood to face Mary Sue.

"So who's in charge, then?"

"I am, for now," McGonagall answered.

"These are for you, then," Mary Sue unwrapped the silk of the long parcel she was carrying. "Greetings from Japan." She bowed slightly as she presented the matched pair of Japanese swords, a long katana and a shorter curved wakizashi.

McGonagall reached forward across the High Table to accept the gifts. "What, may I ask, am I to do with these?"

"Wear them proudly?" Mary Sue suggested. Seeing the Acting Headmistress' shocked expression, she shrugged, "Or hang them on your wall."

"Where did you get these?" McGonagall demanded.

"Don't ask!" the Girl-in-Black smirked. "What happened to Dumbledore?"

"Heart attack," Harry whispered from her right side. On her left side, Hermione was trying unsuccessfully to control her blush.

Mary Sue nodded at this information. She turned to face the Gryffindor table while drawing her mithril sword. "I hope you lot saved me some dinner," she announced. Space was quickly made for her on the bench and platters were hastily passed her way.

McGonagall was left speechless, standing at the High Table and holding two very fancy Japanese swords.


"What happened in Japan?" Hermione's curiosity couldn't wait until later.

"Sodding arseholes!" Mary Sue muttered as she viciously tore into her chicken leg. "The idiots cast me as Hinata!" Upon seeing the blank looks on the others' faces, she continued, "Hinata is some wimpy girl who's in love with Naruto, the hero. Can you see me playing a wimp? And pining over some boy whose blond hair somehow reminds me of Malfoy?" she asked. "I can't, either!" Mary Sue answered her own question. "As soon as my whip came out, all the reviewers started shouting 'Out of character!' and I had to start hurting people."

"Did you get into trouble?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed at her idol's tale.

"I'm not welcome back there, if that's what you mean," Mary Sue smirked. "Of course, light-fingering the head shinobi dude's sword kit didn't help any." She nodded to the High Table where McGonagall was still trying to decide what to do with her gifts.

The Acting Headmistress had transfigured her table napkin into a tartan waist sash and had tucked the katana into it. When she turned to her right to seek Professor Sprout's fashion opinion on the matter, the long sword caught Professor Flitwick in the back of the head and tumbled him off his stool.

The little Charms professor was quite irate until McGonagall presented him the with the shorter wakizashi sword as a peace offering. He quickly used a simple sticking charm to fasten the bamboo scabbard to his waistcoat and then proudly climbed up to stand on his stool so that his Ravenclaws could see that he, too, sported a blade.

"Umph!" Professor Sprout's muffled gasp tore McGonagall's attention away from Flitwick's display of House unity. Her katana had shoved the Herbology professor's face into her shepherd's pie.

"Oh, Pomona!" the Acting Headmistress gasped, spinning around to aid the Hufflepuff Head of House, while at the same time toppling Flitwick from his perch and sending him sprawling across the High Table again.

There was a clattering of numerous blades as the Ravenclaws rushed the High Table en masse, intent on defending their Head's honor, although at this point, it shouldn't have taken a Ravenclaw to comprehend that salvaging Flitwick's dignity was a lost cause.

"Sorry! Sorry!" McGonagall quickly surrendered to the dozen or so rapiers that were long enough to reach across the table. The younger years with their shorter reach and even shorter swords were out of luck, here, although one enterprising second-year witch climbed under the table to poke the Acting Headmistress in the leg. The elderly witch quickly sat down to tend her wound.

While McGonagall was thus occupied and no longer a threat, two seventh-year boys picked up Flitwick bodily from the High Table and a quick "Scourgify!" took care of most of the kidney pie splattered on his robes. No one noticed the mashed potatoes smeared into his hair, but then the tiny professor was part goblin and his hair naturally resembled mashed potatoes anyway.

"Those looked like really cool swords," Harry noted as he watched the goings-on at the High Table. "Why did you give them to McGonagall?"

"They were supposed to be for Dumbledore," Mary Sue admitted. "I put tracking spells on the hilts so we'd always know exactly where our sneaky Headmaster was. It works out just as well this way, though," she shrugged.

"That was brilliant!" Hermione gazed at her idol in admiration. "Simply brilliant!"

"I think I prefer the new Headmistress over Dumbledore," Mary Sue commented idly as her mithril sword served up another dinner roll.

"She's only 'acting,'" Harry reminded her.

"You call that acting?" the Girl-in-Black laughed, her mood much improved by the food and the entertainment.

"It's better than the film version," Harry nodded.


"Guess what! Hermione and I used that back door you made to steal the Philosopher's Stone!" Harry grinned while Hermione looked rather guilty. The three were taking a break from sword practice in the Room of Requirement.

"What!? You got it!? The real Philosopher's Stone!?" Mary Sue's eyes widened in shock.

"Uh-huh!" Harry nodded proudly.

"Great!! I know just the place where we can sell it!" the Girl-in-Black's eyes gleamed greedily.

"What!? We can't sell it! What if Voldemort buys it?" Harry protested passionately, shaking his head passionately, as well.

Hermione managed a small shake of her own head, against her instinct that her heroine was always right, but in support of the Boy-Who-Lived, who could sometimes be right, too, she supposed, and this seemed to be one of those times.

"Do you realize how much that thing's worth!?" Mary Sue gaped at the two of them. "Millions! Maybe even jillions! That's a lot of gold, Harry!"

"Well that could be a problem. Where would we put it all?" he asked reasonably.

"Harry," Hermione sighed, "Have you never heard of a bottomless bag? Honestly! Are you a wizard or not?"

"So you want to sell it, too!?" Harry rounded on his bushy-haired friend.

"Well, not necessarily..."

"And why not!?" Mary Sue demanded. "What's a jillion Galleons split three ways?"

"One third of a jillion, each," Hermione replied automatically.

The other two paused to stare at her.

"What?" she blinked. "I didn't want to have to leave a repeating decimal at the end."

"Harry, I know just the place where we can fence it!" Mary Sue attempted to ignore Hermione's math-related obsessive-compulsive disorder. "There's this place in Knockturn..."

"And we'd get a jillion Galleons for it?" Harry interrupted.

"Well..." Mary Sue hedged a bit. "Wholesale might be a bit lower..."

"How much lower?" Hermione frowned.

"I don't know - depends on whether he has a buyer lined up," the Girl-in-Black shrugged. "Maybe a couple hundred?"

"A couple HUNDRED!??" Harry shouted.

"Okay, maybe a thousand. Who knows for sure, right?" Mary Sue tried to appease him.

"We're not selling it!!" Hermione set her foot down. Everyone has their price, they say, and G333.333333333... did not meet her minimum requirement for selling out the world. Plus, there was that pesky repeating decimal she'd have to contend with.

"A third of a Galleon is an even 5 Sickles and 26 Knuts, by the way," the black-haired girl informed the brunette, sensing her dilemma. "Why do you think they made it 17 Sickles per Galleon and 39 Knuts per Sickle? So you can evenly divide a Galleon into thirds!"

"Oh!!" Hermione brightened. "I hadn't considered that!"

"So you're willing to sell it, then?" Mary Sue asked hopefully.

"Well, there is the thing with Voldemort..."

"Yeah!" Harry chimed in. "What if Voldemort gets hold of it?"

"If Lord Snake-nose takes over this fandom, who cares? There are others out there," Mary Sue shrugged and studied the two carefully. "Naruto is out, I'm afraid," she shook her head. "I've pretty much burned that bridge for us. What about My Little Ponies, though...?" she considered. "No... Ooo!! I know!! The Smurfs!!" she nodded eagerly. "You'd both make great Smurfs and I could be Smurfette!!"

"NO!!" Hermione shouted. "I will NOT do Smurfs!!"

"Whoa!" Mary Sue backed off a bit. "What's gotten into her ?" she asked Harry.

"I think I recall Hermione in a Smurf story, once..."

"That was a story!? I thought it was a dream..." Hermione frowned. "Either way, it was NOT pretty!"

"So if we sell the Stone, we'll have to jump fandoms or we're fucked," Harry summed up.

Mary Sue shrugged and turned hopefully to Hermione.

"Pretty much," the bushy-haired one nodded glumly.

"I hate to break it to you, Harry, but I'm running low on cash, again," Mary Sue cringed. "If we don't sell the Stone, I might have to resort to what I delicately refer to as 'desperate measures.' Trust me - you don't want that in your story."

"Why not?" Harry asked innocently.

"You'd have to change this story's rating to NC-17."

Hermione blushed at the implication but Harry was still clueless. "What about all that cash you got from my uncle?" he pressed.

"Japan ain't cheap, Kiddo!" the Girl-in-Black shrugged.

"There's only one thing to do, then," Hermione piped up.

"What?" the other two turned to her hopefully, knowing that the brainy one could usually be counted on to come up with something.

"Road trip!!" she grinned. "Harry's rich, and Gringotts is only a Floo ride away!"

"Hermione Jean Granger!!" Harry gasped as he and Mary Sue both goggled at the girl. "What will the Headmistress think!?"

"F-F-Fuck McGonagall!" the bushy-haired witch faltered at first but she managed to spit out the crude vulgarity, then looked up hopefully at Mary Sue. Hermione beamed widely as her role model's face lit up in a huge smile of approval.

"So where are you hiding the Philosopher's Stone?" Mary Sue asked casually.

"Somewhere safe," Harry answered quickly before Hermione could spill the beans.

"I have a secret compartment in my trunk, you know," Mary Sue offered. "Even the teachers would never be able to find it..."

"Er, no thanks," Harry shook his head. Mary Sue had a history of 'liberating' things that weren't nailed down - and even some that were, he suspected.


A quick Floo excursion to Diagon Alley (via the Hog's Head) on Saturday morning cured Mary Sue's cash-flow problem - and even netted Hermione a bag full of gold, as it was her idea in the first place. While they were in Harry's vault, they hid the Stone in a dark corner, disguised and magically sealed in a dirty old sack of dragon dung that they'd pilfered from Professor Sprout's greenhouses.

Somewhere, Nicholas Flamel wept.


"So, Mary Sue," Hermione fondled her full money bag and smiled at her idol as they emerged from Gringotts, "Tell me about this trunk you mentioned that has a secret compartment in it."

"Two secret ones, actually," the Girl-in-Black confided. "The first is minimum security and I keep some dirty books and a couple sex toys in there to make it look good, just in case anyone gets nosey." Both Harry and Hermione blushed at this, of course. "The second one is maximum security and while Dumbledore might have been capable of finding and opening it, I'm sure that our farce of an Acting Headmistress will never notice that it's even there."

"Was it expensive?" the bushy-haired one asked hesitantly.

"A little more than a basic student trunk, but nowhere near what a seven-compartment deluxe job with living quarters will set you back."

"With living quarters!?" Hermione gasped. "Honestly!?"

"Honestly! You say that a lot, you know," Mary Sue rolled her eyes. "We need to be Flooing back," she pointed towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"Wait! I need to stop by the trunk shop, first!" Hermione insisted, dashing off in that direction. She needed somewhere to hide Dumbledore's wand, after all, and the three-compartment model seemed like the perfect solution.

Her next problem was where to find herself some naughty books and sex toys.


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