Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Chapter Eight

Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
Chapter Eight

Disclamer: Not mine, I own nothing. I’m not making any money
WARNING: Harsh Language, adult themes, sexual situations (i.e. smut), bad spelling and grammar.

Author’s Notes: This story is a broad farce with over the top humor (a good deal of it is crude and sexual) and OOC actions (that’s Out Of Character if you don’t know). Also, this is my first smut-ish fic. If you don’t like sex and sex-based humor, do NOT read this!

Chapter Eight Summary: Harry goes on the ride of his life!




Harry slowly turned to face Ron. The rage and anger Harry was feeling was about to be unloaded upon his taller friend. But before he could unleash his fury, one of the witches who had gotten off of the Knight Bus spoke up.

“Would you lot budge up or get out of the queue,” the witch demanded. “My kids have been waiting for this for months.”

Harry was quite surprised to find that he, Hermione, and Ron had somehow wandered into the line of customers waiting to enter Godric’s Hollow. He was even more surprised to see that Ron was already at the ticket window.

“Excuse me, my friend over there is Harry Potter,” Ron said to the wizard behind the counter. “So what kind of discount do we get?”

“Let me check with my supervisor, governor,” the old wizard replied in an obviously bored tone. He leaned back in his chair and without taking his bleary eyes off of Ron and shouted over his shoulder to someone behind him. “Oi, Brian, we’ve got another one claimin’ to be ‘The Boy Who Lived’ and wanting a discount.”

“What’s the count up to today, Curt?” a disembodied voice echoed from behind the wizard in the ticket window.

“Eighth one today,” Curt, the ticket salesman responded. “That’s four up from yesterday.”

“If this keeps up, we’ll break the record for most ‘Harry Potter Sightings’ in one day,” Brian commented.

“But this really is Harry Potter!” argued Ron. “Look at his scar!”

Harry felt the desire to physically harm Ron as Curt leaned out of his booth and examined Harry’s infamous scar.

“Bit small innit?” remarked Curt. “The last “Harry Potter” had a much bigger one. And it flashed a green light every now and then. That was impressive!”

“Would you just pay for the tickets so the rest of us can move along!” the witch with three children demanded. “We don’t have all day!”

“Fine then, how much for three?” Ron asked grumpily as he dug into his pockets.

“Nine knuts,” Curt replied mirthlessly.

“Excuse me, who runs this… this place,” Hermione demanded as she gestured to the warehouse.

“Mr. Joseph Middwood,” Curt answered. The name struck a cord with Harry, but he couldn’t place it. Harry hoped that Remus would know who this Middwood was and could tell him something about the man.

“I demand to speak with him this instant,” commanded Hermione.

“That’s fine miss,” Curt replied. “He’s up in the gift shop.”

“How do we get there?” asked Hermione.

“The only way to the gift shop is through the ride.”

“You must be joking!” Hermione stated shrilly.

“Nope,” Curt said with a smile. “You’ll still have to pay for the ride.”

“Here,” grumbled Ron as he gave Curt nine knuts, a sweet wrapper, a bit of string, and some pocket lint. Apparently, Ron was so upset over not getting a discount that he had just grabbed whatever happened to be in his pocket. Luckily it was the exact amount needed for three adult tickets – plus a sweet wrapper, a bit of string, and some pocket lint.

Ron grumbled some more as he sulked through the entranceway and Harry and Hermione silently followed.

“C’mon you two,” Ron hollered from down the hall, “the ride’s this way!”

The trio began to walk down a brightly lit hallway adorned with multiple magical posters.

“I don’t see why you’re so excited about this ride, Ron,” said Hermione.

The first poster that caught Harry’s eye was that of a young baby, maybe a year or so old. It took him a moment to realize that it was actually a photo of himself. He was slightly embarrassed at the fact that baby Harry was blowing spit bubbles at the person who had taken the picture. A title scrolled across the bottom of the poster that stated “The Boy Who Lived!”

A poster to his left showed the handsome visage of his father, James. James was smiling and winking in the poster while words scrolled at the bottom of the picture announced, “James Potter; father of The Boy Who Lived”.

“Why not?” replied Ron to Hermione’s question. “I know it’s a little lame, but it’s still fun!”

Another poster showed Lily, Harry’s mother, smiling sweetly with the scrolling words: “Lily Potter, mother of The Boy Who Lived”. Harry felt his eyes begin to well up.

“FUN!” barked Hermione. “These people are making a mockery of Harry’s pain and you think its ‘fun’?”

“What d’you mean a mockery -?” Ron asked and stopped as he finally noticed the tears in Harry’s eyes. Ron looked nervously between Harry and a nearby poster that show a jubilant James and Lily looking at a black-haired baby attempting to walk on his own. “Oh, crap Harry,” Ron mumbled in a guilty way. “I didn’t realize…”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Harry said softly with a mixture of sadness and anger in his voice.

The next poster that caught Harry’s eye was that of a menacing figure completely shrouded within a black robe as the phrase “The most feared Dark Lord in our time!” scrolled across the bottom.

Harry shook his head in disbelief and passed through a doorway and entered a large room with a number of wooden carts on several tracks. The tracks all led out of the room through a large set of double doors. A wizard wearing a pointy hat with the words “Ride the Hollow!” embroidered on it ushered Harry, Hermione, and Ron into the front of one of the carts. A family of three took up the row behind them.

A disembodied booming male voice emanated from somewhere above the cart.

“/Join us as we use the magical Time Turner to travel back to that fateful day…/”

An obviously phony Time Turner attached to the front of the cart started spinning before their eyes.

“That’s not a real Time Turner, ya know,” informed Ron like it wasn’t obvious and he needed to point it out.

The cart lurched forward as the double doors slowly opened and the cart moved into the blackness. After a moment in the darkness, the cart and its passengers emerged into a bright and sunny field.

“/Watch as the Potter family goes about their daily routine,/” the booming male voice stated as the cart approached a group of people outside the house.

Harry could see two adult figures, a man and a woman, standing in the garden in front of that house. One could tell that these people were magical representations by the way they moved. They way they moved their legs and arms were too jerky and unnatural. They were clearly poorly animated mannequins. As the cart got closer, the woman stiltedly bent down and picked up a small child.

“Let me have him, love,” the man said and the woman carefully handed him the child. “Does Harry want to play with his daddy?”

“Do be careful James,” the woman chastised.

Harry felt as if he was hit hard in the stomach and all the wind was knocked out of him.

It was his mother and father.

The fake James tossed the fake Harry up into the air and the baby giggled uproariously.

Even though he could tell that the way the mannequins’ were fakes by their stuttering movement, whoever had created this charade had gotten his parents’ voices and likenesses down perfectly. Seeing and hearing these reproductions cut through Harry like a knife.

The fake baby reached its chubby little arms out to its fake mother and Harry’s eyes blurred. He failed in his attempt to swallow the large lump that had grown in his throat as the tears spilled form his eyes.

Hermione let out a soft sob as the fake Lilly took her fake baby into her arms and playfully placed tiny kisses over its face. Harry cradled Hermione to his chest as tears ran down his own face. He could tell without looking that Ron was hanging his head in regret at the thought of ever enjoying such a travesty of his friend’s life.

The fake Potter family strolled into the house and the announcer’s voice sounded again.

“/But the Potters’ did not know of the terrible fate that awaited them…/” the disembodied voice warned.

The sunny sky over Harry’s head quickly darkened. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed as the cart entered the garden.

“/You too shall share their fates this night!/” The booming voice cackled.

The little girl sitting behind Harry turned to her father and said something that must have been terribly important to her.

“I love you, Daddy,” the girl whispered in fear, as if she was positive she was doomed and she wanted to make sure her father knew how much she cared for him before she died.

With a flash of lightning, an ominous figure appeared in front of the cart. The family behind Harry let out a terrified scream as the figure revealed his deeply tanned face to them. Harry could tell from their screams that the girl and her brother were truly terrified, but the father was just playing along.

“IT’S HIM!” the girl screeched.

Harry was surprised when a scoffing noise escaped his lips upon the sight of “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named”. Harry bitterly realized that while whoever had created this atrocity had numerous photos of James, Lily, and baby Harry to base their mannequins off of, but they hadn’t even a vague notion of what Voldemort looked like. The effect was comical to Harry; this Voldemort was just a standard male mannequin that would have normally adorn a shop window. The only modification that Harry could see was that the mannequin had red eyes.

“Do you mind?” the father stated, taking offence at Harry’s scoff.

The fake Voldemort made his way to the front door of the house and the cart followed him. The mannequin pointed his wand at the door.

“They’ve got the wand wrong,” Harry bitterly muttered. “Along with how he looks as well.”

“And how would you know?” the father asked.

Harry turned in his seat and looked at the man while holding up his fringe to expose his famous scar.

“Oooo,” the father said with insincere awe. “It’s the bloke who wanted a free ticket because he’s /’Harry Potter’/. Just because you had to pay like the rest of us ‘cuz your scam didn’t work doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for everybody.”

Harry was about to put the wizard in his place when the Voldemort-mannequin shouted “REDUCTO!”

Red sparks erupted from his wand just as that door and a portion of the wall surrounding it were “blown” to bits. Of course the hole in the wall had just happened to be wide enough for the cart to pass through.

The cart followed the Voldemort-mannequin into the house.

“Lilly, get Harry out of here!” the fake James shouted and he fired off a number of brightly colored sparks out of his wand.