Everyone Should Have a Harry Potter
by Minako
Harry Potter is so not mine that it's funny. I mean, really, as if. It
belongs to JK Rowling, and I claim no right to her genius, just to my
insanity. ^_^
//blah// - letter
^ - see footnote
-------
It all started with the death of the Boy Who Lived. He died in a car
accident before he had even learned he was a wizard, very tragic. A car
accident, funny, seeing as that was the way he had been told his parents
died. Not funny haha, but funny queer. Not queer gay, but queer peculiar. One
could almost wonder if his death was perhaps not an accident, but
intentional. Anyone who'd ever met Harry or his guardians knew that the boy
wasn't happy there, but to take one's own life before the age of eleven? That
was pushing it.
The majority of the wizarding world mourned his death, and his
funeral was all over the Daily Prophet for weeks. Then, like so many other
heroes who have passed before their time, he was forgotten. Well, maybe not
forgotten, but life definitely went on. For most people.
-------
Mad-Eye Moody wasn't sure why it was people thought of him as insane.
Perhaps it was because he was the type to enchant his garbage cans to scare
off Muggles who came too close to his house. Perhaps it was because he had
been an Aurorer, and old habits die hard. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was
because he was the type who would hang around a Muggle graveyard in the
middle of the night with a shovel. Whatever the reason for their beliefs,
Moody couldn't agree more. His sanity probably wasn't what it had once been,
but that had never stopped him before.
He paused in front of a small grave, it wasn't very fancy, and one
would hardly even notice it if they hadn't been looking for it.
Harry Potter
Dead at the age of ten,
a tragedy.
Brief and to the point, Moody liked it. He lifted his shovel, and
began to dig up the grave.
It was a small and very plain coffin that held the boy, but, then
again, that was to be expected. Though famous in the Wizarding world, Harry
went unnoticed, or even disliked in the Muggle world. Carefully, Moody forced
the coffin open, and looked down at the boy inside. He appeared to be resting
peacefully, and Moody almost felt bad to be disturbing him. Almost.
Pulling out a pair of scissors, Moody began to work at the dead boy's
unruly black hair. Finally, satisfied with what he'd done, he reclosed the
coffin, and replaced it in the ground. Quietly, he murmured a spell to make
the area look as it had, and disapparated with a fistful of black hair and
his shovel.
He apparated on his own front porch, having cast a spell to keep
anyone, including himself from apparating directly into the house. He cast a
series of complex spells to counter the locks on his home, and let himself
in. He walked through without bothering to turn on any of the lights, and
didn't stop until he'd reached the second floor of the house, where he
entered a small room, tossed the shovel on the floor, and put the hair on a
table.
The Wizarding world believed that, with the loss of Harry Potter,
dark times were returning. And they were probably right, but Moody could put
a stop to that, he knew he could. Without any further adieu, Moody began work
on his Potion. In theory it would work, but in practice, well, Moody wasn't
so sure. He didn't have a choice though, it *had* to work.
Harry Potter would walk the mortal world once again.
-------
A few hours later, Mad-Eye Moody looked very much a like a mad
scientist, leaning over what appeared to be a scarecrow. Carefully, he
scratched a lightning bolt into the straw that was serving as a forehead. The
eyes appeared to be olives, and four strands of hair were stuck into
seemingly random points on the scarecrow's head. The ears were onions, and
the nose appeared to be a potato that had been carved into the correct shape.
There was a slit cut into the straw face, presumably the scarecrow's mouth.
Carefully, Mad-Eye Moody (who was living up to the mad part of his
name) poured a thick red potion into the slit serving as a mouth. When the
vial was empty, Moody pulled a sheet up and over the scarecrow, then sat down
in a large armchair where he curled his legs close to his chest, and fell
asleep.
-------
Mad-Eye Moody awoke around noon to a groaning (not *that* kind of
groaning). He looked around the room suspiciously before he remembered what
had gone on the night before. He looked over at his scarecrow, which was not
only groaning, but moving.
Moody slowly made his way over to the table, and pulled the sheet off
the scarecrow, though what was revealed was definitely not a scarecrow.
The boy on the table was about eleven years old, and there was a scar
on his forehead which was half-covered by his unruly black hair. Moody took
the skinny boy by his shoulders and pulled him up into a sitting position.
The boy whimpered, and opened his eyes to reveal that they were indeed a deep
shade of green.
"Boy, what's your name?" the boy stared at Moody for a long moment,
then opened his mouth, as though to speak. No sound came out, so he tried
again. On the third try, he got it.
"Harry Potter," his voice was raspy and unused, but Moody didn't
care. He gathered the small boy into his arms, laughing out loud.
"I've done it..." He whispered. "I've done it... he's alive!"
-------
Harry Potter frowned, and looked at surroundings in wonder. The past
few days had been the most confusing of his entire life. He remembered
everything from his life, and he remembered seeing the car careening around
the corner when he was on his way to the store, and everything was a blank
after that, right up until he'd woken up on a table with a sheet covering his
head, and the strange man had asked him who he was.
Now he was in some sort of hospital with a lot of very strange people
who kept asking him very strange questions, which he answered to the best of
his knowledge. Finally, after a week of being poked and prodded and asked
questions he didn't understand, he was let go, and sent home with the strange
man, whose name was Mad-Eye Moody. Harry didn't really feel very safe going
home with a man named Mad-Eye, but he didn't have much of a choice.
When they reached the home of Mr Moody, the man turned to face Harry.
"Now listen up, boy." He said, reminding Harry of his Uncle Vernon.
"I'm going to be your guardian from now on instead of those Muggles," Harry
didn't understand the word 'Muggles' but he wasn't about to say anything, "I
was planning to have you enrolled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, but perhaps you'd be better off learning your skills from me. After
all, I'll teach you what counts."
Harry couldn't help it, he had to ask, "Witchcraft and Wizardry?"
Moody looked at him and sighed, "I guess I have a lot to explain to
you before we can start, don't I, boy?" Harry nodded, and Moody led him
inside to tell Harry some of the most important things he would ever hear in
his new life.
-------
After four months of intense training and instruction, Harry knew
everything he needed to about wizardry and every spell that Moody deemed
important. At least, that's what Harry thought, until Moody called him into
his study.
"Harry, I think you're finally ready."
Harry blinked at Moody, "Ready for what?"
"To face your destiny, of course. I think you're finally ready to
fight Voldemort."
"Voldemort? Isn't he the really powerful wizard who was defeated
years ago? The one that you won't tell me about in detail no matter how many
times I ask you to explain it to me?" Harry asked.
"Yes."
"I thought he'd been defeated."
"He was defeated. You defeated him, Harry."
Harry frowned, "I defeated him? But I've never met him! Hasn't he
been gone for years?"
Moody nodded, "Of course he's been gone for years. You see, Harry,
Voldemort killed your parents, but he couldn't kill you. His spell backfired
when he attacked you, and he disappeared after that. No one's seen him since
then."
"Well, if no one's seen him, then why's he a problem?"
"Because, we all know that he's still there. He has to be. We can
feel it."
"Right. So why don't *you* just finish him off?"
"Well, he's a very powerful wizard, and besides, we don't know where
he is."
"Who is we?" Harry asked, catching Moody by surprise.
"We're the wizarding world," he answered in a tone that told Harry
he'd asked a stupid question.
"Oh." Harry paused for a long moment, "So what am I supposed to do
about it?"
"Well, you defeated him once, you should be able to do it again."
"Alone?"
"Yes."
"You mean I don't get any back-up?"
"None."
"You want me to fight the most powerful wizard that's ever been,
alone, with only four months of preparation?"
Moody squirmed, "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound
crazy," he paused, "But it only makes sense that you should be the one to do
it, after all, you're the only person who's ever defeated him."
"But -"
"No buts, you're going."
"I don't think -"
"It doesn't matter what you think, Harry. You're going because it's
for the good of the world. You have to do it, it's the reason you're alive
today!" he paused, then muttered, "literally."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing, you just have to go. It's your destiny! Compredez?"
Harry glared.
Moody took the glare as surrender, "Now, this is how we're going to
find him..."
-------
Three weeks later, after a vicious battle with Voldemort, Harry
Potter died. Again. It was very tragic. People were sad. They were also
slightly miffed since Harry's death had caused the rebirth of the dark lord^.
Ok, slightly miffed is putting it lightly; it was more like murderously
enraged. It was a good thing for Harry that he was already dead. Again.
Moody on the other hand, wasn't angry so much as annoyed. He'd been
convinced that Harry would defeat Voldemort. He thought on the topic for
hours on end, then rememebered what Harry had said to him about going alone.
Maybe if he'd had back-up, he could have won the battle.
Moody had an idea.
-------
It was five months later when Moody was ready to launch a second
attack on Voldemort. That is, it was three trips to the graveyard, an awful
lot of illegal magic, six Harry Potter clones, and three months of
instruction later that he was prepared, and glad of it.
Voldemort had been rising in power, he'd started attacking
Muggle-born wizards, and had what seemed to be an entire army of death eaters
at his beck and call. The only thing that seemed to be keeping him from
all-out war was Albus Dumbledore, who wasn't actually fighting. He was just
standing around looking imposing at Hogwarts. That wasn't the only reason
that Moody was happy to be able to carry out his plan.
The truth was, the six Harry Potters were all exactly alike;
even Moody couldn't tell the difference between them. It was kind of eerie.
Moody was just glad that soon he'd be rid of them, whether in victory or
defeat. Of course, Moody was betting on victory.
He called the boys to his study, and he told them what they were
going to do. They all seemed prepared to fight for the sake of the world, and
didn't seem concerned at all about their own well-being. Moody wasn't
surprised that they weren't concerned - you know something's wrong when
you're living with six people who are *exactly* the same as you are. Moody
was pretty sure that they'd picked up on his little cloning escapade.
-------
Three days later, the boys headed out to fight against Voldemort. Two
days after that, Moody heard of their complete and utter defeat. It was
almost a week before the first of the owls came in.
//Dear Mr. Moody,
I am willing to pay you a large sum of money for one of your Harry
Potter clones. Yes, I know it was you who made them - I have a sister working
at St. Mungos, she told me all about it. I feel that, even though they failed
in their battles against Voldemort, they would still provide protection for
my family and I.
My owl is waiting for a response, thank you.//
The first letter surprised Moody, as did the second. But the third
gave him an idea. Less than a month later, Moody went into business selling
Harry Potter clones to rich homeowners looking for protection from the dark
lord.
-------
Less than a year later, it was all over. Dumbledore gathered an army
of about one hundred Harry Potter clones, all donated by rich homeowners, and
he launched an attack against Voldemort. Since it was Dumbledore launching
the attack, and not Moody - it was successful.
Moody was arrested for using the illegal magic involved in making
clones of dead people. The wizarding world on the whole decided that he was a
very bad man. He spent the rest of his life in Azkaban, where the wizarding
world believed he belonged.
As for the Harry Potter clones that survived the attack, they were
sent out for adoption. Some ended up with loving families, and some ended up
with wizard equivalents of the Dursleys. The most unfortunate were the four
who ended up replacing the Malfoys' treacherous house elves.
From some perspectives, it was a happy ending, from most, it wasn't.
The important thing is that Voldemort was defeated. Right?
-------
^ a la GoF
Heh. That was fun. And that's really all I have to say about that fic. It was
fun. ^_^ C&C are welcome - daybreak_impression@yahoo.ca - kind crits are ok,
but flames make me cry.
(
geocities.com/tokyo/club/Club) (
geocities.com/tokyo/club) (
geocities.com/tokyo)