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Xicon Presents - FFF: Harry Potter and the Marriage Contract



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Post Thu Feb 09, 2012 8:05 pm

Xicon Presents - FFF: Harry Potter and the Marriage Contract

Greetings, Interplosion. Today, in cooperation with Azog, I will be presenting the first Interplosion Fan Fiction Friday! Shamelessly but lovingly ripped off Topless Robot's feature of the same name, written by the always amusing Rob Bricken, Fan Fiction Friday brings you a piece of fan fiction that is either abhorrent, gratuitous, depraved, or simply dreadful along with hopefully humorous commentary. Fan Fiction Friday is not presented for your amusement, however: this is presented to remind you that you belong to a world in which people like the authors of the works featured exist.

For this inaugural week, I have selected a piece of fan fiction from the Harry Potter canon - although I use "canon" lightly. The piece, Harry Potter and the Marriage Contracts, is written by Clell65619 of fanfiction.net, and is a 14 chapter epic regarding everybody's favorite boy wizard - though we'll see how long he remains your favorite.

Without further ado, let's get started.

The war is over. The side of the Light has won. Voldemort is well and truly dead. This is a short story of the aftermath when Harry Potter is attempting his first few steps toward independence. Everything in his life so far was focused toward the war. Now that the war is over, Harry is, for the first time focusing on himself.

Buckle up, ladies and gents, it appears we are going to be treated to a coming of age epic in which Harry finally faces the realities of the world he's ignored in a touching emotional exploration of his own soul.

Chapter One - Survivors

July 30, 1997

Longbottom Manor:

Oh dear god.

"Harry! Thanks for coming."

Harry picked himself up from where he fell after exiting the floo and took Neville's hand.

"I hate floo travel. Happy Birthday Neville. Your message said that you needed to speak to me, what can I do for my best mate?"

Since when has Neville been... Harry's... best mate... oh dear god.

"I think it's more what we can do for each other Harry." Neville led him to the Sitting Room. This was possibly the most formal room Harry had ever seen. Something about Neville's manner screamed "BUSINESS" to Harry. Neville gestured Harry into a chair while sitting himself. On a side table by the chair Neville selected for himself were a pile of parchments.

"So, what's going on Nev?"

"We're officially adults now Harry."

"Well, tomorrow for me, but yeah."

"I got some surprises in the post this morning, and Gran explained what was going on to me. It occurred to me that if I didn't know, and I grew up with this crap, you wouldn't have a clue when yours arrives tomorrow."

"Ok, what are we talking about?"

"These." Neville gestured at the pile of parchment. "Are proposals from various pureblood and old line families of marriage contracts with their daughters."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was. It's a pureblood thing dating back to the 1200s. It's fallen to the wayside for most people, but you and I are heads of Ancient and Noble houses, for us it stills happens."

Am I the only one disturbed that Neville said "It's more about what we can do for each other" before explaining that he has been receiving marriage contracts?

"You're kidding. You've got to be kidding."

"Harry, I got 27 offers. Me. You're a fucking hero. You are going to be mobbed."

"I'm not going to accept any of these stupid things."

"Neither am I. We just have to be careful not to accidentally accept one. And yes, some are them are written so as to trick you. Gran found two in this pile that were."

"How is Hannah taking all this?"

"She doesn't know. I suspect she's going to be pissed when I tell her." Neville smiled. "I'm hoping she tries to convince me to forget about them. She can be very persuasive."

The pair shared a laugh.

"Anyone we know?"

"Harry me lad, you wouldn't believe me. I am evidently quite the catch."

Something about Neville casually tossing out innuendo is deeply disturbing, as is his pronouncement that he is quite the catch. Is this the same Neville I'm thinking of?

"Thank you for asking me to spend the night Mrs. Longbottom."

"It's always nice to have one of Neville's friends over. Especially when they want to know about the old ways." the woman's eyes sparkled.

I suppose in the wizarding world, "legal adult" is ten years old.

"Have you ever considered teaching Mrs. Longbottom? You certainly know your history, and the history professor we have is, well, not the liveliest teacher."


"I don't believe I have the temperament to teach Harry." She smiled, and then the look faded. "I was sorry when Neville told me of your falling out with Dumbledore and the Weasley clan. It had looked like your future happiness was ensured. Why they would treat someone like that I will never understand." Her expression brightened. "Still, it will be interesting to see how many offers you get given your notoriety."

...the fuck? Dear god what is going on

"I'm hoping for none."

"Ha! Harry I got 27." Neville's eyes danced with laughter. "I'll give odds that you bust three figures."

It appears that this fanfic author is actively trying to emulate Rowling's style, but in the process has seemingly forgotten that the characters are British.

Neville was wrong. The final count the following morning was 7,234 contracts offering marriage. After Neville's Grandmother went over the pile some concerned her (she said they didn't 'feel right') she called her brother for help.

Algernon Croaker had been an Unspeakable for most of a century, and had responded to a lot of calls for various mysterious objects. This was his first time inspecting Marriage Contracts. Of the more than seven thousand, nine had portkeys incorporated into them, and seven had compulsion spells integrated into the parchment, those were forwarded to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and four were jokes (all from the Weasley Twins) those were deactivated and given to Harry for the purposes of revenge.


The remaining 7,214 were given to Harry with the instructions that to be on the safe side, he should touch nothing with his bare hands, to sign nothing without Augusta looking at it first, and to have a good time. Harry and Neville settled down to sort through the offers.

Talk about Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking. Try to have a good time while you're avoiding dark artifacts and binding marriage contracts, Harry!

The pair put on light cotton gloves and between them, they quickly established four categories of letters.



Oh Hell NO!

My eyes! They burn!

When Harry opened his 9th letter he suddenly found the need for a fifth category.

Uh, no, but my, that is an interesting photo of a surprisingly limber girl, and that photo might look nice in the dorm this year, and how does she get her legs behind her head like that anyway?


Neville was complaining that his contract offers hadn't contained any interesting photos as he added several pictures to the fifth pile. It took most of the day to make it through the pile of contracts and destroy all of the oh hell no, and My eyes! They Burn! categories. They found themselves with a large pile of almost 900 photos, 22 contracts in the No category and 19 contracts in the Interesting category.

The Interesting category was composed completely of their classmates. The No category was made up mostly of former class mates and acquaintances.

"I don't know if I should be laughing or crying over these girls." Harry said shaking his head. "How much overlap with your list?"

"I don't know. Let me look." Neville pickup up the remaining pile. "Pansy Parkinson, check,"

"That one isn't going to happen."

"I hear you. The Patils, check only I got one from each, you got an offer of both together."

"Wait, BOTH of them? At the same time?"

"Yeah, that's legal under Wizarding law.

It all makes sense now - Mormons are wizards and magnets work by magic!

Daphne Greengrass – I didn't get anything from her, but you did, AND a photo. Tracey Davis, check. Millicent Bustrode, check."

"After Lucius was killed, Millie got away from Draco and turned out to be a relatively inoffensive person, but not a chance in hell."


I have two theories. Either the above image is the author's understanding of the word "canon", or they have used the device in the above image to destroy canon in full recognizance of what canon is.

"Yeah, knows her plants, but about as cuddly as Hagrid's brother." Neville shuddered a bit. "You got one from Sue Bones, I didn't. We both got one from Ginny."

"You've got to be kidding me. Why would Ginny be offered to either of us?"

"A lot of possibilities Harry, this could have been processed before Riddle fell, or possibly, the head of the Weasley family isn't aware of your falling out."

"Arthur was right there."

"I know Harry, but I believe the head of the Weasley family is Arthur's Great-uncle Amos, he may be unaware of the problems, or just doesn't care and is making the offer without any expectation of your accepting." He shrugged. "Amos Weasley is a contemporary of Dumbledore, who really knows how they think?"

The amount of thought that has been put into wizard family politics is unnerving.

Neville picked up the next contract. "Lavender Brown. I didn't get one from her. Luna Lovegood, I got one from her, but her father demands a bride price of a breeding trio of Crumple Horned Snorkacks, so I was out of luck. Hmm. You didn't get the bride price demand… Somehow I feel cheap."

"Wait, a 'Breeding Trio'? How could that possibly work? No, never mind I don't want to know. Life with Lovely Luna would never be boring."

For once I agree with the fan fiction character, though I admit that I was slightly disappointed the story didn't explore "Breeding Trio" further. Goddamn it FFF.

"True enough. Romilda Vane? You pervert."

"Is it too late to put that one in the Hell No category?"

"Unfortunately tradition requires that since you know them, you have to personally return rejected offers to the girls in question."

"Are you telling me that I have to go up to the girls whose families made these offers and personally reject them?"



"So tradition requires I be an arrogant abusive ass?"

"An alliterative arrogant abusive ass!"

"Pretty much, yeah." Neville smiled. "Just channel your inner Draco. The girls should understand, I mean it's …"

Before Neville could explain what it was, the hearth flared green "Neville Longbottom?" came a woman's voice from the floo.

"Yes?" He answered, crossing the room to the fireplace.

"Nev, this is Hannah, could I come through? It's important."

"Sure Hannah, come on over." He stepped closer to the fireplace as the flames flared again and Hannah Abbot came hurtling out, catching her.

"Neville, something horrible has happened. If I'd have known, I'd have stopped it, but my father sent Harry Potter a marriage contract, I need to talk to him, please don't get angry, I didn't know anything about it…" it was then she noticed Harry sitting at the table with an ornate piece of parchment in his hand.

"I didn't know your middle name was Clementine Hannah."

"Harry?" she was more than a little flustered.

"What's your take on this prospect Neville?"

"Hannah is an excellent kisser, and can be very affectionate." Neville said, knowing full well that he would be paying for that later.

More Longbottom innuendo and OH GOD I JUST MADE IT WORSE

Harry nodded. "That's important. Oh, Hannah? Could you turn around for me?"

"Harry, I swear I didn't know anything about this" She saw the playful look on Harry's face, sighed and slowly turned around.

"Well Nev, any kids would be well fed."

Did Harry just compliment Hannah's ass in front of her? Who the fuck are these people and where are the adorkably awkward Harry and Neville we all know?

"Keep me out of this Harry; she's likely to kill me as it is."

As Hannah finished her turn, Harry rose from the table and approached the girl. "A most attractive offer Ms Abbott, but I must respectfully decline, as accepting would make Neville angry, and while Dark Lords and Death Eaters aren't all that bad, an angry Longbottom is scary!"

"Don't you forget it Mate."

When Voldemort got angry, random people died. When Neville got angry, an evil snake with a very specific reason it needed to die died. Also, I'm not entirely sure the author can differentiate between British and stereotypically Australian.

August 23, 1997

Diagon Alley:

Harry spent the weeks following his 17th birthday finding and politely declining the contracts from the 'No' category. He finally found Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet (the last of the 'No' category) together taking lunch at the newly reopened Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor (Mr. Fortescue's nephew had taken over the business) Not one of them knew of the offer of the contracts, and were more than a little amused at the possibility. Angelina kissed him lightly on the lips and whispered that he 'wouldn't survive the ride', to which Harry had responded, that if he had to die, there couldn't be many better ways. That got him kissed again.


He presented the laughing girls their respective contracts with as much dignity as he could manage, and paid for their lunches, and then he escorted them to Weasley Wizarding Wheezes where they all worked. Harry wanted to speak with the Twins.

Unfortunately, Fred met him at the door. That didn't bode well.

"Harry, mate, wanna take a walk to the bank with me?"

"Ron or Ginny?" Harry sighed as he stepped back onto the street and began short walk to Gringotts.

"Ginny's inside now, Ron should be here anytime now. I'm sorry partner, but this is our busiest time and we really can't afford the screaming fit that would result if you went in."

"I understand. I don't want to start any trouble for you with your family."

"Harry, George and I know you aren't the bad guy in this, but… They're family, you know."


"I understand Fred, really I do." Harry sighed again. "I got a marriage contract from the Weasley family offering Ginny."

"You've got to be kidding me." For the first time since meeting him Harry had managed to shock Fred Weasley.

"And four from you and George. I didn't know you clowns cared that much, but I don't swing that way. I prefer my dates to be concave, front and back."


Fred Weasley's expression went from shocked to embarrassed. Harry knew the man well enough to know the embarrassment stemmed from being found out before the prank was triggered, not from any moral issue.

"What are you going to do?" asked the slightly saner half of the twins.

"I find I must decline your offer." From his robes he produced a sheaf of parchments that he presented to the professional prankster. He had timed it just right, and Fred had taken the parchments in his hand just as he crossed Gringotts' outer wards.

Wait what? What was he timing that for? Sir, your exposition is missing.

"Prat. I mean what are you going to do about Ginny?"

"My intentions are honorable, oh scary older brother of the girl whose contract I hold. I will find a way to approach her when she is alone and decline the offer in accordance with tradition."

"I didn't mean it like that Harry. We know you wouldn't take advantage of her, just… Just don't hurt her ok?"

Harry shook his head sadly. "I don't think I could."


Also, I just noticed Fred was alive.


August 31, 1997

Ottery St. Catchpole

The Burrow:

Hermione Granger lay staring at the ceiling of Ron Weasley's room.

Oh fucking god no.

In the candle light the garish Chudley Orange had mellowed into a deep umber. Her body was still covered with a film of sweat from their love making. Ron's head was on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair as he snored away.


How had she gotten to this point? She didn't understand her attraction to Ron. If she liked something, he hated it. He ridiculed her interests and habits, and she detested his. They had literally nothing in common, other than Harry. And something, she still didn't know what, had happened between Harry and the Weasleys, and they didn't even have that.

Is this the coming of age part the introduction promised us?

Her body responded to Ron like it did to no other person she had ever met. He had to but touch her and her nipple got hard and her juices flowed.


Bur he wasn't Harry. Harry was alone. After all Harry had gone through to save them all, he was alone. Harry needed her, but she needed Ron and… How had she gotten here?

She wants Harry but wants Ron but Harry needs her and she needs Ron and what the fuck?

September 1, 1997

Kings Cross Station

Platform 9 ¾:

Harry had entered the train station spot on 10:15. One last trip to Hogwarts and then he could get on with his life. It was as he approached the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ he noticed a group of 5 children with trunks standing near a larger group of adults who were looking a bit confused. Looking closer several of the adults had pieces of parchment written on in green ink, and the children were all clutching what appeared to be tickets.

Harry is going back to Hogwarts?

Harry approached the group. "Good Morning. Going to Hogwarts?"

A look of relief washed across the faces of the children, a tall woman stepped forward from the adults.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"The parchment in your hands, the confused looking between platforms 9 and 10, kids with trunks. You all look the way I did when I came here for my ride first year."

The Adults relaxed at that. "You're… What did she call it? Muggle born?"

"No, my parents were both magical, but my Mother was Muggle born. After my parents died, I was sent to live with my Muggle relatives. I'm what is called Muggle raised. My Name is Harry Potter, could I be of assistance?"

Harry Potter and the Pedophilia Trials

September 1, 1997

Hogwarts Express

Last Compartment of the Last Car:

When Harry and his new charges passed though the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ Harry was immediately greeted by the Creevy brothers. After Harry had introduced his charges to the 6th and 5th year, the Creevy's took a few pictures You kids will be able to show everyone you know Harry Potter then helped Harry and the kids get all their luggage on the train.

Once inside the compartment, with all their trunks stowed in the overheads (but not before their school robes were removed and carefully hung out of the way) Harry sat and gestured the five Muggle born to do the same.

"Why are you staying with us, and not going off with your friends?" asked the girl with the red hair in a long ponytail asked.

"I crave the taste of young flesh."

"Well, Megan… It is Megan, right? Megan Puckle?" The young girl blushed and nodded. "I made some very good friends the very first time I rode this train, the pair of them became my best friends, but last year we had a bit of a falling out. My best male friend doesn't want to talk to me anymore, and my best female friend is dating him so she can't spend much time with me without risking her relationship with him. Most of the rest of my close friends are in relationships and use the train ride to be with each other."

Good ol' angst. It just wouldn't be Harry Potter fan fiction without it.

"Are you THE Harry Potter? The one they wrote about in Dark Lords and Idiots: The Biography of Harry James Potter?" Asked Stephen Moore, a small boy with glasses, leaning toward the pudgy side.

"Well, I'm 'A' Harry Potter,


I'm not sure that I'm the definitive Harry Potter. That book was completely unauthorized and what little I could stomach of it was utterly wrong. Rita Skeeter has a lot to answer for, and that book is only part of it. But to answer your question, yes I'm the one who fought and defeated the dark Lord Voldemort. Beyond that I don't really want to talk about it. "

"But if you're a hero…" Tom Brisson began.

"I'm not a hero. Don't believe anyone who tells you I am." Harry interrupted the Blond boy. "What I did was because Voldemort came after me, and he hurt my friends. I'm a survivor, not a hero."

I see where this is going: this is a Harry PotterxDark Knight Slash fic.

"Could you tell us about the Houses?" asked Sophie Marconi asked trying to change the subject.

Before Harry could answer, the train jolted as it started to move and the door slid open. "Good Morning Harry, room for one more?"

Luna Lovegood was framed in the doorway. "Of course Luna, there's always room for you." He rose to put Luna's trunk into the overheads. Luna noticed the looks on the young first year girls faces when he lifted the trunk so effortlessly. She smiled, Harry added to his fan club every year without realizing he was doing it.

"Oh look at me, I'm Harry Potter and I can lift a trunk with relative ease. Do you not want to fuck me right now?"

"Thank you Harry." She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "How was your summer?"

"Quiet and uneventful. In short perfect. How was Sweden? Did the hunt go well?"

"Oh yes. Six weeks communing with nature and Daddy. Glorious. We found tracks and spore, but no actual Snorkacks"

"I'm sorry the hunt didn't pan out Luna."

"Oh, don't be Harry. The joy is in the hunting, not in the finding. If Daddy and I ever actually found one, we would probably release it and obliviate each other so that we could begin the hunt again." Her eyes lost focus for a moment. "In fact the possibility that we have already done this several times exists."

Harry shook his head and smiled. Pure Luna. The firsties were probably going to be traumatized.

It's sad that this is plausible.

September 1, 1997

Hogwarts School or Witchcraft and Wizardry

Great Hall:

We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teacher, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teachers, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

"Well, that was different." Harry looked across the table to Hannah. "I wonder who let the Hat listen to Pink Floyd?"

"Yes," Hannah said suspiciously, while leaning against Neville. "I wonder who could have done that Harry…" She held the frown as long as she could before starting to laugh.



On the bright side he was at least listening to The Wall, which is much better than Dark Side of the Moon and OH MY GOD WHY AM I DEFENDING THIS

McGonagall and Dumbledore were both staring open mouthed at the Sorting Hat while the various Muggle born and Muggle raised in the Great Hall explained to their classmates why they were laughing so hard. Then Minerva shook the shock off and started the sorting.

The class was the largest since the first war, with 74 firsties to be sorted. Gryffindor got 19 new lions, including Harry's red haired friend from the train Megan Puckle. Harry made room for her next to him and she sat relieved to at least know someone in her new house.

During the meal, Harry surveyed the table for his other friends. Ron was down on the far end, next to the Head Girl, Hermione, who spotted him looking and smiled sadly. Dean and Seamus were deep into a conversation with Parvarti and Lavender. Megan hit him with a nonstop series of questions that he did his level best to answer.

Finally the meal was done; the golden plates and cutlery vanished from the table. Dumbledore made his final comments, the forbidden forest remained forbidden, Filch's list of prohibited items had started a second volume, and the students were excused from the hall for their dormitories, the firsties being led off by the fifth year prefects.

Harry looked around the Great Hall. No dark lords, no plots, no reason for Dumbledore to return to his manipulative ways toward Harry. Those were all pluses. No Ron. No Hermione. Those were minuses. Maybe this year was just going to even out. He could take a life that evened out. He looked at his watch. 8pm… Perfect. With any luck, Tonks was where he asked her to be. This should be good.

"I've got one friend and the headmaster hates me, fuck awesome!"

September 1, 1997

Diagon Alley

The Leaky Caldron:

Nyphadora Tonks sat in the back of the pub wearing the face and body of a male middle aged wizard she had arrested a few months before. The note had asked her to keep an eye on the Weasley twins tonight, and to make sure she remembered everything for a pensieve memory.

Tonks wasn't sure what Harry was up to, but she'd do pretty much anything for that kid, his life had been hell, like having a Dark Lord personally putting you up as number one on his 'to kill' list wasn't bad enough, he also had to deal with the crap that Dumbledore, the Weasleys and sadly, even Remus had done to him and his life. That was what had moved her to end it with Remus. She loved the man deeply, and he was the best physical lover she had ever found, but she found that she no longer respected him after the truth about what he had done to Harry came out.


She sat and watched them while nursing her drink. The clock on the wall started to chime. On the eighth chime, Fred Weasley (being a Metamorphmagus made her very aware of the physical difference in people, she really never understood why people couldn't tell so called 'identical twins' apart, it was so obvious) suddenly stood up, the skin on his face contorting, his hair lengthening and losing it's red color. His male feature softened into what was possibly the more beautiful woman Tonks had ever seen, his hair was now long enough to reach down his… her back and was a silverish blonde.

Tonk's was admiring the time delayed hex that allowed Harry to remotely change Fred Weasley into a beautiful woman, when the full force of the most powerful allure she had ever felt hit her full in the face. Every man in the pub was suddenly highly aroused and responding to Fred. It was only after her transfigured body started to respond to Fred's new form that Tonks realized what Harry had done. He hadn't changed Fred into a woman; Fred Weasley was now a Veela. A Veela in full rut.

Tonks smiled widely, while changing her body toward a neuter status. What ever the twins had done, Harry had definitely won this round. It was then a mesmerized George reached out and drew his transfigured brother into a kiss.

Harry was going to love this memory.






(Chapter Two continues in the next post)


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Posts: 180

Joined: Sun Oct 30, 2011 11:26 am

Post Thu Feb 09, 2012 8:05 pm

Re: Xicon Presents - FFF: Harry Potter and the Marriage Cont

Chapter Two - Exchanges

September 01, 1997

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Gryffindor 7th Year Boys Dorms:

Following the feast, Harry was in his dorm unpacking, and laying out his robes for the next day.

The image of Harry meticulously laying out his clothes is bizarre and incredibly out of character for most normal humans. How old is the author?

Neville, Dean and Seamus entered to begin their own unpacking.

"Gentlemen, it's good to see you, we've got something to discuss.

"Harry, mate," Dean said, "We know you and Ron are having problems, but we can't be getting in the middle of that."

"This is nothing to do with Ron, Dean. I happened to have come into possession of some interesting Art work, and I thought I'd share the wealth."

Gentlemen? What happened to mate? Art work? The fuck is this?

From his trunk he withdrew the photos that had come with the marriage contracts. "I present some Artwork. I call this set, 'Surprisingly Limber Girls'" He dropped the largest pack of photos. "This set I call, 'Surprisingly Limber Girls and their very affectionate Girlfriends'" A second smaller package joined the first. "And this one is 'Surprisingly Limber Girls and their amazing collection of Toys" a third package joined the others on the others. "I though everyone might enjoy the artwork this year."


Who the fuck calls nude photos Artwork? Even when inflected that is the most moronic thing I've ever heard nude photos called. It's like the author is trying really hard to make Harry look like some sort of badass, womanizing gentleman - Don Draper, essentially.This Harry appears to have a smooth talking veneer that suggests he knows what the fuck he's doing, as opposed to the book Harry, who actually had no idea what the fuck he was doing and didn't bother to hide that. Which brings to me to my next point:


"Bloody hell Harry" said Seamus "Where did you get these things?" His eyes bugged out when he noted the face on one of the women in the photos. "That's Tamara Oakley, she works at Honeydukes in Diagon Alley and would never give me the time of day. Where did you get theses?"

"They came with Marriage Contracts."

Dean opened and closed his mouth several times. "You unspeakably lucky bastard. You're sharing these with us?"

"Gentlemen, art of this quality is to be shared."

...unlike this fanfic! ZING!

September 02, 1997

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry:

Harry Potter sat with his back against an ancient oak tree enjoying the crisp air and the grandeur of the Scottish sunrise.

A lifetime of habit had robbed Harry of the ability to sleep any later than dawn. This day he had waken well before dawn, and knew instantly that trying to go back to sleep would be futile. He had risen then, gotten his shower before the crowd, and dressed quietly in the dark, appreciating the 'normal' sounds of the dorm. Neville would suddenly thrash about in his bed and then quiet down again for several minutes. Dean would mutter running commentaries of football games in his sleep, with occasional demands that the referee get his eyes checked and other less polite suggestions. Seamus hugged his pillow as if it were a woman.

Ron's bed was empty. Completely untouched. Harry tried not to think what that meant. Ron wasn't really part of his problems with the Weasleys, the break came because Ron needed to support his parents and sister. He wished Ron and Hermione well, and hoped the pair of them all the best. If only he didn't miss them quite so much.

So, let's recap: Fred and George are not Harry's problem with the Weasleys. Ron is not Harry's problem with the Weasleys. He apparently couldn't be mean to Ginny, so probably not a problem there. WHAT THE FUCK IS HIS PROBLEM THEN

From the dorm he made his way out of the castle and out onto the grounds. He found his quiet place and enjoyed the show. Something tickled in the back of his mind. Trust the old man to spoil a perfect sunrise.

"Hello Headmaster." Harry said without turning to look. "The sunrise always makes me feel small, you know?"

"In deed Mr. Potter. I am unused to students being able to detect my coming and going. You startled me."

Albus Dumbledore and the Pedophilia Trials

"Tommy caused me to learn a few things. What can I do for you Headmaster?"

Tommy? That's worse than Voldy.

"I was hoping you would finally reveal just how you defeated Tom."

Oy, here we go.


"No, I don't think so."

"Why not? Why do you keep your accomplishment from the Historical Record?" The ancient wizard asked.

"You know, when my friends and I fell apart last spring, I tried to research how you killed your dark lord. Not a single word in the record."

"There are good reasons for that, I assure you Harry."

"And I have my reasons as well. Headmaster. I wouldn't want the next Dark Lord defending against it, nor do I want my own technique used against me."

"I'm afraid that I must insist Harry."

"Headmaster, you would never believe me."

"You will find that I can believe quite a few things Harry."

The boy sighed. This was ruining his morning; dealing with the old man had a way of doing that.


"Alright. I'm not the Harry you know. I'm from a future where Voldemort won."


"He won?"

"Yes. In the original time line, I never found out what you and the Weasleys were doing. I spent 6th year allowing you to drive a wedge between Hermione and myself. You made a big deal of showing me your home movies about the life of Tom Riddle as if knowing that the bastard killed his father or that he got Horace Slughorn to tell him about horocruxes would be any help at all."

Oh my god I think I can see some canon here

"You took me on a horocrux hunt to a cave by the sea, where we recovered a locket after having to deal with a poisoned potion and inferni. While we were gone Draco had let Death Eaters into the castle via a vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirements. We returned to Hogsmeade to find a Dark Mark over the castle. We borrowed a pair of brooms and flew to the Astronomy tower."

Harry sighed sadly. "We heard fighting, and someone running up to the tower. You had me put on my Invisibility cloak, and hide in a corner. When Draco Malfoy burst in, you petrified me. The Poisoned Potion from the cave had you almost too weak to stand, and Draco had been tasked with killing you, but he wasn't a killer yet. You had him just about talked into surrendering when three Death Eaters burst in. They were waiting for Draco to kill you, egging him on, when Snape appeared."

"And Severus dealt with the Death Eaters?"

"No, he killed you. If the Killing curse hadn't been enough to do the job, his spell blew you completely off the tower. The sudden stop at the end of the fall was more than enough to kill you. Snape took Draco, and ran with the Death Eaters back to Tom. We buried you right over there." Harry gestured to where the cairn would have been erected.

The image of Dumbledore erected - taken either sexually or in the "complete misunderstanding of the word" as it relates to burial sense - will haunt me.

The thought of his death seemed to have unnerved the ancient wizard. "Then what happened?"

"Ron, Hermione and I went on a horocrux hunt. The Ministry fell to Voldemort a few months later, a Pure Blood centric pogrom started. Half bloods were restricted to serving Pure bloods, Muggle born were 'relocated' to 'reeducation camps' which is to say executed after prolonged torture."

Ah, so we're back to "canon".


It also appears that the author is just using a thesaurus. Why the fuck would Harry use the rather specific Russian word "pogrom"?

"We lost Hermione in 2000, when a hunter killer squad found our tent in the forbidden forest. Ron and I kept going. In 2007 we were captured as we destroyed the final horocrux, we had to break into Gringotts to get that one, stealing a Dragon to get away. The Goblins were pissed. Ron was executed on the spot, but I was taken to be presented to Voldemort himself."


"Harry, I'm so…"

"Old man, you wanted to know what happened, so shut up so I can tell it." Harry shook his head in frustration toward his Headmaster. "I was bound hand and foot and was being transported to Tom, when an assault team hit the convoy. I was captured by the resistance. I don't know what surprised me more, the existence of a resistance, or who the leaders were."

"Who were they?"

"Luna Lovegood and Daphne Greengrass. They had been keeping the Ministry under Tom off balance for years; they were what allowed us to get away with as much as we did. They had a plan to win, but to do that they needed me."

Who the fuck is Daphne Greengrass, how the hell could Luna have her head on Earth long enough to lead a resistance, and


"To deliver the death blow to Tom?"


I refuse to believe that Dumbledore would be stupid enough to say that after Harry had said he was from the future. But, then again, Harry said he was from the future, so the stupidity of this fan fiction knows no bounds.

"No, to prevent his final rise to power. They had worked out a method of time travel using potions, runes and a specifically designed spell. The Runes setup a temporal containment field, the spell cast the field into the past. They projected that the field would go between ten and fifteen years backwards, so they needed someone who could make a difference in the period 1992 -1997. They chose me."

"What of the potion? And what powered the Rune cluster?"

"Caught that did you? Well you see, they couldn't send any mass back in time. They believed that the Runes properly powered would cast my soul and they hoped my magical core back to my own body, where they believed that my 'present' soul and 'future' soul would integrate to a single entity. They hoped that my 'present' magical core would do the same thing with my 'future' magical core. The potion was designed to eject my magical core from my body. I got inside the rune array, drank the potion, cast a killing curse on myself to power the runes and the girls cast the time displacement spell."

"I woke up in my bed in the Gryffindor dorm last November 9th, with my two souls in the process of integrating. We had quite the conversation during that hour, and we agreed to do what needed to be done. I skipped breakfast and went to the room of requirements to experiment with my magic. I found that I knew and could perform all the magic I learned 'in the future' and that I was stupidly more powerful than I had been the first time."

In December I discovered your plot with the Weasleys, lost Ron and Hermione, found that I had other allies I had been unaware of, and started on my new path. My new allies and I gathered and destroyed the horocruxes, then last May, Tom made the mistake of letting me get close, and I ended it."




That last one is for the callous disregard for the mechanics of magic.

There was silence between them for a few moments. Harry checked his watch, almost time to go to breakfast and get his class schedule.

"That is an amazing tale Harry. If anyone else had told it, I would have my doubts, but from you, I have to believe it."


Harry nodded sadly. "Thank you Headmaster. You know, I'm thinking of financing a study to determine just what happens to Wizards after they leave Hogwarts. If I was to tell that story in the common room tonight, I wouldn't get as far as Luna and Daphne teamed together to head the resistance before everyone in the room would be yelling 'Bullshit!', but our elders, including yourself buy a cock and bull story like that without blinking. It is truly amazing."

"That was a… story?"

"Of course it was a story. How I dealt with Riddle is no one's business but my own, and my allies who were with me. Now if you'll excuse me, need to get to breakfast, I'm hungry and I owe Neville Longbottom 10 Galleons. I never thought you'd buy such a ludicrous story."

I bought such a ludicrous story because I'm reading a fan fic that either shits all over (or eats and then shits out) the canon. What's Dumbledore's excuse?

September 01, 1997

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The Great Hall:

Harry slide into his seat at the Gryffindor table across from Neville, and slid the 10 coins across the table.

"The old man believed your little story did he?" Neville asked pocketing his winnings.

"Yeah. I would have though living a century and a half one would develop a bullshit filter, but you were right."

17 years, and after reading this my filter will need cleaning.

Harry looked at the selection on the table and selected some scrambled eggs and fried tomatoes for his plate. "The photos were a hit."

"Large surprise there. I thumbed through them and didn't notice any of those from class mates past or present."

Harry shook his head. "I've culled those out and have returned them to the senders, or will when I decline their offers. Having those photos around would be disrespectful."

"But random yet still recognizable women? Totally respectful."

"No argument from me Harry. I was looking to pull them before Dean or Seamus found them. I should have known you'd do the right thing." Neville dug into his eggs while reaching for more bacon. "Starting with the declines today?"

"Yeah. It seems that most of the women in question were unaware their families made the offer, so I'm starting with the Slytherins today, and work my way up to the girls who will likely hurt me if they feel I'm insulting them."

"You don't think the Slytherin girls will try to hurt you?"

"Oh, sure, but they don't need to feel insulted to do so.

This is the most logical argument I have ever seen and I see no lapses in judgment - it makes far more sense to decline the people you know are going to try and hurt you rather than the ones who might if they feel insulted. Brilliant!

Speak of the demons, here comes Malfoy and Parkinson." He smiled "Got your inbred Pure Blood Twit routine ready?"

"I resemble that remark." Neville said smirking.


The Slytherin pair drew near. Neville ruffled the newspaper he was reading. "I say Potter," he said in a loud voice that carried through out the hall, "The Aurors keep finding more and more families that are claiming their marked loved ones were weak minded fools under the imperius for years."

"I know Longbottom old boy," Harry said in an equally loud voice, "It's bad enough the fools are dead, now their families are claiming they were all weak minded as well, well breeding will tell, if anyone would know that the death eaters were all week minded fools, who better to be able to say than their inbred off spring."


I'd never have guessed this author wasn't British.

"Are you talking about my family Potter?"


"Good morning Draco. How are you this fine Death Eater free morning?"

"You'll pay for what you did to my father Potter."

"You've been making that threat since first year Draco. If I didn't know better, I'd be thinking you didn't like me or something. I certainly didn't do anything to your weak minded father Draco, I only killed the Dark Putz, your father killed himself when he took the mark and slaved his life and magic to a half blood, under the imperius as he was, being weak minded and all."

"Potter, I'm going…"

"Oh Pansy?" Neville interrupted the blond's rant. "It's good to see you this morning as well; Harry and I have some personal private business with you. Perhaps Draco would be so kind as to toddle off?"

"Nothing you have to say to me interests me in the slightest blood traitor."

"I'm sorry you feel that way Pansy." He reached into his robes and withdrew a rolled up parchment, which he handed to her. "In accordance with the old ways, Pansy, I decline your families offer of your hand in marriage, as tempting as that offer might be."

Pansy unrolled the parchment and stared open mouthed at her families seal. This was real. "My family offered me… To you?"

"Me as well, Pansy old girl." Harry smiled at the stricken girl. "That personal note you attached bemoaning the extremely small size of Draco's willy while begging me to rescue you from a life time of sexual frustration was heart rending, really it was. I'm not sure what everyone in the common room was laughing about when I read it to them last night, but I find that I too must decline. As charitable as I am, I'm afraid that there isn't enough hot water and soap in the world to wash the unmistakable taint of Draco from your body and soul. Sorry."

Pansy stared unbelievingly at the two contracts in her hands, and then ran away from the great hall in tears.

You are now picturing Tom Felton's penis.


"Potter!" Draco hissed. "You are dead, when I bring the Malfoy fortune against you…"

"Malfoy fortune?" Neville interrupted again. "Didn't see this morning's Prophet Draco? It seems that the Goblin that the Death Eaters kidnapped and tortured to death trying to find a back way into the goblin tunnels was Grethok, the son of Ragnak, the head of the Goblin Nation. The Ministry managed to head off a Goblin Rebellion by signing off on the confiscation of the personal fortunes of every marked Death Eater. That leaves the Malfoy fortune at pretty much what you've got in your pockets right now…"

Draco paled. Then left the Great Hall without another word to verify this information.

What a convenient and not at all ridiculous way to rob Draco of everything that makes him Draco.

"That was wrong. We should be ashamed of ourselves Neville."

"I know, but it was fun." Neville once again dug into his breakfast.

"You know the funniest thing about it? Ragnak didn't even like Grethok, though he was proud that his boy didn't break under torture. Ragnak was going to call it a wash because Grethok kept trying to raise a rebellion against Ragnak's rule, but then I suggested that he might as well make a galleon or two out of the deal. He cut me in for 2 percent for the suggestion."

The creativity that went into these goblin names is staggeringly massive.

Neville fell off his seat laughing.

"I just didn't want the fortunes of the Death Eaters financing the next Dark Lord." He shrugged. "Who knew that it would be both amusing AND profitable?"

Neville was picking himself up and more students filed into the Great Hall to break their fasts. Not long after the students were seated, the morning post arrived. Hedwig landed in front of Harry and extended her leg. Attached there was a small package and a sheet of parchment. Harry took the letter and the package, and gave his best girl most of a rasher of bacon. Then a small barn owl landed in front of him and offered its leg with a single sheet of parchment attached.

Taking the letter, Harry offered the owl some bacon, it took the offering, then winged off. Suspicious, he ran several detection charms on this newest letter. Nothing. Using his fork and knife he opened the letter without allowing it to touch his flesh. As he suspected it was from the Twins. The letter head had the Weasley Wizarding Weezes logo.

Dear Partner: It read

We hate you.

That Veela Prank was cruel beyond all belief.

(You have to tell me how you did it – Fred)

(I am still gargling to get the taste of Fred out of my mouth – George)


We should have known better than to challenge the son of a Marauder.

We only know it was you because we couldn't prove it was someone else

Love: Gred and Forge.

"What?" Asked Neville. "I know that look, and normally it means trouble."

"I'll tell you later."

While completely out of character for Fred and George, I must say I was incredibly pleased that this author referred to them as Gred and Forge. That one line in Sorcerer's Stone has stuck with me since the first time I read it.

"Excuse me Millicent?"

"What do you want Potter?"

"Beyond some Slytherin to eventually call me 'Harry'? Not much. I just have to tell you something."


Millicent Bustrode nodded. She then stood with a questioning look on her face.

"Miss Bustrode, In accordance with the old ways, I must respectfully decline your family's offer of your hand in marriage. At this time I am not looking to take a wife. At some point in the future that may change and I will certainly keep you in mind."

She blinked. Twice. Then she began to laugh. "I can't believe that father would do that without asking me. You're alright Potter. The majority of the bastards in this school would never have said a thing to me, just skulked off like cowards. Thank you Potter… Harry."

"No problem… Millie."


September 01, 1997

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Gryffindor Heads Common Room:

For more than an hour the only sound in the room was the scratch of Hermione's quill. Ron had finally had enough. He heaved himself from the sofa he had been laying on and came up behind Hermione at her study desk. He leaned over, nuzzling her neck and cupped her breasts.

Oh, back to this are we? Ahem.


"Ron, I've got to finish this."

"It's the first day of class love. We've got rounds to make at 11 o clock. That gives us two hours to relax." He nipped at her ear.

Hermione found herself leaning back into him, the quill falling from her fingers as she reached up to pull his lips back to her neck. All thoughts of her studies left her when his right hand left her breast and moved down to probe her through her panties.

They were 15 minutes late for their rounds.

2 hours and 15 minutes? Damn, Ron, performance issues much? Especially given that it's Emma Watson you're shagging and WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING


September 03, 1997

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Outside the Transfiguration Classroom:

It had taken Harry two days to track down his last two Slytherins. As usual, they were together. The pair were leaving transfiguration and heading to the Great Hall for lunch, Harry fell into step along side Tracey Davis.



"What do you want Potter?" The shortest of the pair, Tracey Davis asked.

"A chance to speak with each of you in private."

The two girls exchanged a look, and then pulled Harry into an empty classroom.

"This is new." Daphne Greengrass said.

Oh hey look it's Chekhov's Gunman. I'm calling it now: self-insertion. Daphne must be our author.

"I've never been propositioned by a Gryffindor before."

"And you aren't now. I would prefer to do this in private."

"Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Daphne, Potter."

"Alright. Miss Davis, In accordance with the old ways, I must respectfully decline your family's offer of your hand in marriage. At this time I am not looking to take a wife. At some point in the future that may change and I will certainly keep you in mind." He handed the blonde the contract.

"My family offered me to you?"

"Yes they did. You don't really care all that much do you?"

"No, I guess I don't." She fixed Harry with a stare. "Ok, go ahead with Daphne."

"No. For Daphne I insist on privacy. If today isn't good, I'll try later."

The girls exchanged a look. Since first year they always had each other's backs.

"Go ahead Tracey, I'll be ok with Potter, he's harmless."

"I wouldn't go as far as harmless, but she is safe with me."

With a concerned look Tracey left the room.

"Well that was dramatic Potter, what do you want?"

"I thought I should return your photographs personally." Harry handed the five photos to Daphne.

"Already made the rounds of the Gryffindor common room have then?"

"No. The only person other than myself who has seen them is Neville Longbottom. He only saw them because he opened the envelope they were in."

"Longbottom's your social secretary now?"

"You aren't going to get a rise out of me Daphne, you can quit trying.

Something tells me she already got a "rise" out of him. ZING!

Neville was helping me because I was at his home when I received over 7000 contracts, including yours. Neville won't tell anyone, he's a good person." He looked her in the eye. "Miss Greengrass, In accordance with the old ways, I must respectfully decline your family's offer of your hand in marriage. At this time I am not looking to take a wife. At some point in the future that may change and I will certainly keep you in mind."

"Is that all?"

"Not at all. You are the first person among our classmates that was aware of the contract. What intrigued me was the photos.

And there's that rise I mentioned. Called it.

Why would your family do that to you?"

"How do you know that it wasn't my idea?"

"Your idea to display yourself like a piece of meat?

"By the way, I'm a carnivore. Grrowl."

Unlikely, especially when I looked at your eyes in the photos. The smile on your face didn't reach your eyes, they were dead and empty. The eyes of someone going through the motions, someone who doesn't expect anything good to come from her life. I recognized those eyes; I saw them every time I looked in the mirror before I managed to kill Tom Riddle." He saw the questions in her eyes. "You knew him as Voldemort."

Again with the well spoken Harry, this time with a dash of intellectualism.


"My father is hungry for status; everyone believed our family to be supporters of the Dark Lord, even though we were neutral. He decided that the House of Potter was on the rise, and that an alliance with you would secure a place in the new order for our family."

"I thought it might be something like that. I was wondering Daphne, would you like to go out with me?"

Well, this is either an unexpected turn or proof of my self-insertion theory.

The girl was gobsmacked. She really hadn't been expecting that. "What?"

"Now that I can have something that resembles a normal life I would like to try dating. This Gryffindor vs. Slytherin crap has isolated most of us into our houses. My house has three girls in my year. Lavender and Parvarti do nothing for me, all they care about is fashion, makeup and divination. I like smart girls. In my house in our year, that leaves Hermione. She's with a friend and isn't available to me. That means I need to look outside Gryffindor. You are scary smart, much smarter than me, not that that is so hard. You are drop dead gorgeous, and my intelligence network tells me you have never dated since you've been here. I tried once or twice and those ended in absolute disaster. I thought that put us on equal footing."

"So, you don't want to marry me, but you want to fuck me?"

"Yes. Preferably in the ass."

"I said date Daphne. If I wanted to fuck you I would have exercised my rights to clause nine of your contract. I would like to get to know you. If you'd like to know me, Saturday I'll be at the big oak by Hagrid's house at noon. I'll pack a picnic lunch; we can talk and get to know each other. Would you like me to escort you to lunch?"

"No, Tracey will be outside the door." She hesitated, then appeared to make a decision. "I'll meet you on Saturday, but you won't touch me."

"It's a date then. Thank you."

Harry opened the door for her, and Tracey was in deed waiting for her. Harry left the girls to go to lunch.


"What did he want?"

"He got a contract from my father as well. He was the one Daddy sent the photos to."

"What did he do?"

"He gave me the photos back and declined the contract. Then he asked me out for a date."

"He wants to get in your pants." Tracey was furious. Potter was going to pay for this.

Poor choice of words, because now it appears that Daphne is a prostitute under the employ of the pimp Tracey. On second thought, that may be deliberate.

"I thought so too. But he said that if that's what he wanted, he would have just exercised clause nine. I need to see what he was talking about." She unrolled the parchment, and scanned down to the ninth clause. The tall girl paled.

"What is it Daph?"

"Understanding that the traditional separation of Houses in Hogwarts may have left you with no personal knowledge of my daughter, I here by authorize a period of no more than ninety days for sexual experimentation between yourself and Daphne. For that period, Daphne will be yours body and soul." The Raven haired beauty looked up at her friend with tears in his eyes. "Potter turned this down. Can you imagine if Malfoy or Nott, or Zambini had been made that offer? What kind of man is Potter anyway?"

Raven haired beauty? Self-insertion indeed. Called it. As for what kind of man Potter is, I fear we are going to find out in excruciating detail in the coming chapters - but that will have to wait for next week!

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