Mary Sue Goes to Hogwarts and Becomes Horribly Clichéd

Mary Sue Goes To Hogwarts and Becomes Horribly Clichéd
 
 
It was Harry’s seventh year. It was Ron’s seventh year. It was Hermione’s seventh year…not to mention all the other seventh year students. Ginny was, by default, in sixth year. The twins had graduated. Percy was being very pompous as an Assistant Deputy Ministry of Magic Clerk, fourth class. Charlie wore dragonhide pants and looked gorgeous. Bill just looked gorgeous. Sirius Black was still on the run. Remus Lupin was still a werewolf. Harry’s hair was still messy.
 
It was another year of disappointment for Professor Snape as yet another professor stepped into the role of Professor in Defense Against the Dark Arts. This professor had a mysterious air about him and there was something almost sinister in the way he looked at Harry…reminiscent of Professor Snape. Professor Snape sniffed disapprovingly; annoyed that someone would try to out-stage him in that manner.
 
“At least his robes don’t billow as dramatically as mine,” he thought with a trademark sneer (patent granted 04/12/1970).
 
All the students were nervous because Voldemort was openly trying to take over the known universe and that made for rather interesting dinner conversation at the Sorting Feast. Even the Sorting Hat had made a few references to it before sorting the anxious first years.
 
Of course, it was a dark and stormy night…the sort of night that foretold of something happening…something that would not be very nice at all. Something decidedly…not nice.
 
With a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning the door to the Great Hall opened…and in stepped Professor Flitwick.
 
“I apologize for my tardiness…a matter of finding my platform shoes,” he chirped as he scurried to his place at the Head Table.
 
Professor Snape sneered. Professor McGonagall pursed her thin lips. The mysterious Dark Arts professor steepled his fingers in a very Snape-like movement (thereby annoying the Potions Master further) and watched with curious detachment as the little figure settled on his seat.
 
Headmaster Dumbledore, whose blue eyes twinkled merrily, signaled for the meal to begin.
 
There was plenty of food for all. This was hardly surprising. Ron Weasley set a record for the number of sausages he was able to fit in his mouth at the same time. Hermione rolled her eyes 312 times at her friend’s antics. Harry kept worrying that his scar would hurt. Neville was worrying about the first Potions class and nearly passed out in fright as he looked at a furious Professor Snape (who had just discovered that the Dark Arts professor had come from Durmstrang).
 
There was another crack of thunder and another flash of lightning. This time, no one paid attention as the door to the Great Hall opened.
 
Perhaps they should have.
 
Accompanied by Hagrid and an excessively slobbering Fang, walked a young woman that no one had seen before. She was a mystery. She was an enigma. She was not very tall, had short brown hair and strong white teeth.
 
Fang stopped to lick Ron’s hand, leaving the redhead very wet and very annoyed. Harry laughed and Draco Malfoy smirked in the way that only he could (patent pending 310-285628).
 
The young woman, accompanied by a strangely silent Hagrid, walked up to the Head Table and just stood there, looking enigmatic and mysterious.
 
The new Dark Arts professor looked at her with something akin to desire. Professor Snape looked at her with anger (he had just started eating). Professor McGonagall looked as if she had eaten a lemon.
 
Headmaster Dumbledore stood up.
 
“Who are you?” He asked, eyes twinkling.
 
“I am the lost child that has been found,” she replied enigmatically. Professor Snape raised one eyebrow.
 
“Why are you here?”
 
“To fulfill the prophecy foretold at my birth,” she replied just as enigmatically. Professor Snape now had two eyebrows raised.
 
“What is your name, child?”
 
“Mary Sue Patil Brown Finnegan Longbottom Potter Granger Weasley Malfoy III…but you can call me Mugsy,” she replied in that same heavy, breathless, enigmatic tone. Professor Snape, having run out of eyebrows, stood up.
 
“Are you a witch?” He asked with his trademark sneer.
 
“Are you Professor Snape?”
 
“Yes, I am the Potions Master and Resident Bartender on the SS Prudence and Potions,” he replied, sneering all the time.
 
“I have a message for you from one you know well.”
 
“Really? How fascinating.” He smirked. Draco Malfoy made a note of that, determined to owl the family lawyer on how to begin proceedings against Professor Snape for trademark infringement.
 
“Yes…your mother said that you didn’t make your bed this morning.”
 
“Have you come to study here, Mary Sue?” Headmaster Dumbledore asked.
 
“Yes, I received my letter five minutes ago.”
 
“You were here five minutes ago.”
 
“Ten minutes then. I am supposed to be in seventh year even though I have had no formal magical training other than working the psychic hotlines back home. I am the most accomplished witch in my country. I have extraordinary powers. I have secrets that would scare the very souls out of the other students here. I have no faults and I am very heroic.”
 
“I think I love her,” Harry whispered to Neville. Ginny rushed out of the Great Hall in tears. She had accidentally cut into an onion.
 
“I think I love her,” Neville whispered to Dean.
 
“I think I love her,” Ron whispered to Hermione who promptly whacked him in the head with her newest edition of “Hogwarts: A History.”
 
“I think I love her,” Draco whispered to Crabbe, who simply nodded dumbly, his mind absorbed in eating as much food as possibly.
 
“I think I want her,” the mysterious Defense Against the Dark Arts thought as he licked his lips.
 
“I think I shall give her detention and dock her house about 350 points…unless she is sorted into Slytherin,” Professor Snape thought, smiling now.
 
“You do realize, child, that you must be sorted in order to study here?” Headmaster Dumbledore asked gently.
 
Without further ado, the mysterious Mary Sue said a word of power (that no one recognized but sounded suspiciously like Shazzam) and, instantly, the Sorting Hat was on her head.
 
“Wandless magic,” one Slytherin whispered.
 
“Only the most powerful mages can perform wandless magic,” a Ravenclaw said in a hushed voice.
 
“Bloody brilliant,” Ron breathed as he rubbed his head, wincing.
 
“You gonna eat those potatoes, Malfoy?” Crabbe grunted and, not getting an answer…took the potatoes anyway.
 
Harry stared at the young woman and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his forehead.
 
“Voldemort?” he thought in a panic…
 
“Sorry about that, Harry,” Seamus picked up a small walnut, “I was aiming for Ron.”
 
Harry slumped in relief as he watched a very nervous Sorting Hat hem and haw over which house to put Mary Sue.
 
“You are horribly clichéd, my dear,” it clucked. “But, for the interests of the plot, I must place you in GRYFFINDOR!”
 
There was a round of applause as the young woman tossed the venerable hat to the Headmaster and joined the rest of her housemates for dinner.
 
As Harry ate, he thought seventh year was going to be very exciting indeed.
 
Over the course of the next several months many people went missing and were later found wandering in the Sahara desert. Many strange things happened. There were many problems. Whenever there was a problem, Professor Snape seemed to have the right potion to correct it. It was unfortunate that he could not find something that could destroy the Dark Lord but everyone has limitations. There were love triangles, squares, pentagons and one octagon. Hearts were broken and others were mended…Madam Pomfrey made certain of that.
 
It turned out that Mary Sue was a long lost twin sister to Harry, a cousin to Neville, a former neighbour of Hermione, Headmaster Dumbledore’s long lost great great niece, the daughter of someone Professor Snape hated, and the granddaughter of someone to whom Lucius Malfoy was indebted in a mysterious way. She was 1/16 veela and 1/32 banshee which meant she was reasonably decent-looking and couldn’t carry a tune if it was handed to her on a plate by a tea-towel clad house elf dancing a tarantella.
 
Her magical powers were so incredibly awesome that she never had to study and spent most of her time speaking enigmatically and wandering the halls of Hogwarts…causing Professor Snape’s eyebrows to rise on several occasions. Professor Snape consequently spent many evenings trying different headache cures (due to the high frequency of eyebrow rising)…finally deciding that snogging the charming new Charms Assistant, Ms Brava, seemed to ease the headaches quite nicely. Ms Brava never complained of headaches…
 
The mysterious Dark Arts professor followed her with his eyes constantly, except for when he was teaching and when he was sleeping. There was almost a tangible link between the two mysterious figures but no one knew what it was.
 
And then, the truly unbelievable happened.
 
Voldemort attacked Hogwarts. It made all the wizarding headlines and some muggle ones too. Geraldo Rivera was immediately dispatched…he was later found in the Sahara desert mumbling incoherently…although no one really noticed any difference. The “National Enquirer” ran a huge article on the wizarding world but no one really paid attention.
 
Everyone was brought into action; even Ron Weasley’s muggle accountant cousin was brought in to assist, ensuring that at least the books were balanced if not the forces of good and evil.
 
Harry saw that it was up to him to make a last stand for truth, justice and the Hogwarts way...well, either that or he would never get another chance for a snogging session with Ginny.
 
“Ha!” Voldemort laughed a most cruel laugh…the sort of laugh that would make the hackles on your back rise…if you had hackles. “You cannot defeat me, Potter!”
 
“He may not but I can!” A voice rang out from the distance. It was Mary Sue, hair flying wildly around her as she stepped towards the Dark Lord. There was thunder and lightning in the background. Even the squid watched the proceedings with great interest.
 
“It’s my destiny, not yours,” Harry called out, pointing to his scar.
 
Mary Sue approached him. “No…it is my destiny…I have to fulfill the prophecy just as Professor Trelawney predicted.”
 
All eyes turned to the Divination teacher who looked rather smug with an unmistakable ‘I told you so’ expression on her face.
 
“Oh,” Harry shrugged. “Well, if you need any help, I’ll be over there snogging with Ginny.”
 
Mary Sue nodded grimly and faced Voldemort who was laughing maniacally.
 
“My Death Eaters will make short work of you,” he laughed.
 
“Your Death Eaters are all dead,” she smiled an evil smile.
 
Professor Snape pinched himself to make sure he was still alive. Ms Brava took him aside and found a much more pleasant way to show him just how alive he really was…
 
“Really?” Voldemort asked in a whiny voice. “Damn…good replacements are so hard to find. Of course you realize that I will have to kill you for this.”
 
“You can try.”
 
“I like your attitude…what’s your name?”
 
“You can call me…….Mugsy.”
 
Voldemort paled suddenly and gripped his heart.
 
There was a very long pause…
 
A very very long pause…
 
Several people fell asleep…
 
Then…
 
“Did you say……..Mugsy?” He gasped.
 
Professor McGonagall whacked Professor Flitwick on the top of the head to wake him up.
 
“Yes, I did…I suppose you remember who I am?”
 
Voldemort nodded but did not say a word.
 
“You are the one.” He decided that four words were better than one.
 
“Yes, I am the bearer of horrible clichés and was the victim of hapless typecasting. Wish fulfillment and self-insertion are my weapons and I plan to use them on you. Do you know who I am?”
 
Voldemort nodded again.
 
“You are my brother’s wife’s cousin’s neighbour’s godson’s girlfriend’s former boss’ tea leaf reader,” he stated.
 
“Correct…and that makes me your worst nightmare. Bye!”
 
With a swish of the hand, which was very dramatic, a blazing light shot from Mary Sue and totally consumed Voldemort. There was nothing left but really smelly ashes and the sound of a lot of people gagging from the stench.
 
“That really stinks,” Ron grumbled, holding his nose.
 
And then Mary Sue collapsed heroically and there was the sound of many harps strumming. It was very melancholy and melodramatic.
 
“Is she dying?” Harry asked, between snogs with Ginny.
 
“Yes, the force required to kill Voldemort was more than her body could handle,” Headmaster Dumbledore said sadly as Mary Sue breathed haggardly, coughing up lots of foul green phlegm. Neville promptly turned and threw up…all over the mysterious Dark Arts teacher’s shoes.
 
“Harry…don’t forget me,” she pleaded piteously as tears filled her greenish, brown-blue eyes with flecks of gold and silver. Her hair, luxurious in its golden-brownish red masses with hints of black highlights and a single streak of white, streamed around her like some sort of halo.
 
Draco sobbed. Harry moaned…but…well, not because of Mary Sue…
 
Ron and Hermione cried on each other’s shoulders.
 
Percy Weasley sniffed pompously.
 
Neville Longbottom turned into a canary (he had forgotten that he had a canary cream in his pocket).
 
Professor Snape and Ms Brava came back as discreetly as they could, not looking particularly sad (evidently he was very happy at being alive).
 
The mysterious Dark Arts teacher Disapparated with a loud pop…and consequently splinched into 10 different countries because he forgot that no one is supposed to Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds.
 
With one final breath, Mary Sue closed her eyes and joined the heavenly host where, it is believed, she plays drums and back-up guitar.
 
A memorial was created in her honour with lots of flowers and waterfalls and cherubs.
 
Dedicated to the memory of Mary Sue…The Girl Who Was Clichéd.
 
 
 
 
Epilogue:
 
Everyone had a nice life. Professor Snape got sued by Draco for trademark infringement but managed to reach an out-of-court settlement before settling down with his own Potions Mistress, Mrs. Brava-Snape. No one tried to put together the mysterious Dark Arts teacher and, every so often, the Ministry would have to be called in to place a memory charm on a muggle who would inevitably come across a piece. Mary Sue was beatified and her very name was spoken with reverence, accompanied by the requisite celestial orchestra. Arthur Weasley began collecting rechargeable batteries at his wife’s insistence. Harry and Ginny snogged to their hearts’ content and inspired Ron and Hermione to do the same. Draco used his settlement to go to Durmstrang and tutored with Viktor Krum…
 
…and Voldemort was never heard from again…