Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowlings—but she never wrote 'em like this


The Real story of how Harry Potter got his scar, and other things

(A parody)

By Lady Lestrange

I'm sure you have all seen the famous lightening bolt scar on Harry Potter's head. Well, he didn't get it the way the story goes. In fact the whole story is rather different. Yes, it's sad, but true. Harry is not the boy-who-lived. In fact, he is not even orphaned. Furthermore, his only relatives are not the Dursley's. Unfortunately, the real facts are not as entertaining as fiction and J.K. Rowlings, no doubt, was using one of those Quick Quotes Quills when she wrote those books, but if you want to know the real truth—as told to me by Rita Skeeter—read on

As the true story opens, Harry is one year old and happily toddling about at Godric Hollow. Unfortunately, while his parents were arguing, Harry tripped over James Potter's discarded wand and crashed into the end table splitting his head open: No drama...No magical curses...Just pure, plain clumsiness.

His mother, Lily Evans Potter, being the sensible witch that she is, healed the cut herself instead of taking him to the mediwitches. There is some speculation about whether she is related to Lockhart, but I wouldn't say that about anyone unless I was absolutely sure. What I am sure about is that at the very moment Harry fell, his parents were being woefully neglectful. No doubt the accident was because at that very moment, the Dark Lord Voldemort was seeking Lily and her husband. That fact was also the cause of their argument.

"Well, James," complained Lily. "It is your ancestral home, Godric Hollow, but I would have expected a little more class. Honestly, where's the fireplace?"

"Electric heat," said James proudly.

"And do you really think we'll be safe here? Will not one find us? It is your ancestral home. Don't you think someone among Voldemort's followers is smart enough to think that this might be the place to look? And what about wards and guards? I don't see any wards or guards. Don't you think we need them since we are hiding from the Dark Lord Voldemort?"

"We won't need those. We have a secretkeeper."

"Oh!" exclaimed Lily. "Is our secretkeeper, the loyal black dog, man's best friend, Sirius—um what is his name now—I always forget—oh yeah...Black?"

"No. Guess again."

Lily twisted her beautiful, angelic auburn hair around one finger as she thought. "Is it the one and only powerful wizard—the one who can barely string three words togethersecond to Merlin himself, Dumbledore?"

"Nope," James answered with unexpected acumen.

"Well, then it must be the werewolf," Lily stated decisively.

"Of course not! A werewolf cannot be trusted. He might tell someone when he is not himself on the full moon."

"Er" Lily said. (a little known English word that is equivalent to duh in American. Harry later uses this work (word) habitually). "Who would he tell?" asked Lily incredulously. "The moon? No one is going to get close enough to hear him when he's a werewolf and if they did I don't think they'd be in any shape to tell anyone else," she explained to her Gryffindor husband.

"Lily you're not thinking."

"Who's not thinking," muttered Lily. "O.K. I'm thinking. You must have picked someone really unusual. I know!" she shouted with a burst of inspiration, "Severus Snape!"

"Snape! Are you out of your mind, Lily! He's a Slytherin. He can't be trusted."

"Well," said Lily sheepishly. "I just thought since he never has a civil word to say to anyone, he might be good at keeping secrets. After all according to you, no one even speaks to him, at least not civilly."

"No," said James indignantly. "I chose the rat."

"I really wish you would have discussed this with me," said Lily. "I could have asked one of my friends."

"Oh. You have friends, Lily. I never knew that! Are you sure? Did you have a life before you became my wife?"

Lily rolled her eyes. Sometimes her dear James could be so—so—Gryffindor.

"Well," said Lily. "It's not who I would have picked, but you are the man, so I guess that gives you the right to put all our lives in danger, so that you can later assuage your Gryffindor pride and by running out to save us in the nick of time."

"My thoughts exactly," James agreed taking her in his arms. "Now, you have to admit, this is better than my dorm room."

Lily wasn't so sure. There were all those protections at Hogwarts. She had even tried to get James to stay there. She had almost had him convinced by reminding him that he could continue to play stupid childish tricks on Snape, since Severus was staying on at Hogwarts as a teacher. Plus, they might let James referee the Quiddich games and he could pretend that he was still playing—

Unfortunately, it didn't work and Lily Potter found herself at Godric Hollow in the dead of the night, alone with only her husband and her baby. There were no house elves—if only she had married a Slytherin! There were no neighbors—if only she had married a Hufflepuff! There were no really cool and bizarre secret passages using advanced muggle spy technology—if only she had married a Ravenclaw!

It was a recipe for disaster. Professor Trelawney would have been delighted.

"Knock knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Who do you think it is?" hissed Lily. "Why did you answer the door, James? How could you be so gullible? We're supposed to be hiding."

"It could have been the Publisher's Clearing House guy with my million galleon prize. I owled my entry on the day before yesterday. It said, "You're a Winner!"

Lily rolled her eyes. "It's He-Who-Must-Not—I mean it's You-Know-Who, the nameless—OH, you know, WHAT'S HIS NAME."

"That's OK," said James. "This is where I get to do my brave Gryffindor thing and save you along with the baby and the world."

"Fine." Snapped Lily, annoyed. "I'm taking the baby and getting the Floo out of here." Opps. Electric Heat.

"Here I come to save the day! I have my trusty wand! Opps. ErLILY! ErWhere did the baby put my wand?"

"What am I nowyour wandfinder?"



"So sorry, Lily dear. I hope you had fun with your little Gryffindor knight in shining armor, but it's time now to come home and be a proper wife for the DARK LORD. And how's Daddy's little wizard?" Said the DARK LORD picking up Harry and snuggling him. (This is the true talent that the Dark Lord later taught to Bellatrix Lestrange: talking in babytalk.)

"OH stuff it, Tom." Said Lily. "You and your good old boys have all the fun—running around in your capes and Halloween masks all year. I don't want to go back to all that burning and pillaging. I just don't care about the Muggles dying."

"But you have to admit, they are such pesky little things. Pleeese—Lily dear." Tom stopped and jostled Harry above his head. "OH, Lily! Did you hear that? He's said his first word."

"Tom. He spit on you."

"No. No. No. It was parseltongue, I tell you!"

Lily stomped her foot. "Tom. Stop changing the subject. I want a vacation! A nice long vacation."

"Well, I suppose we could go away for a while—somewhere secluded like Albania—"

"Albania! No way! I want to go to Hawaii."

"But Hawaii is in America—" shouted the DARK LORD. There's no way I'm having Americans in my movie—er—I mean movement!"

After some serious snuggles and deep kisses, Lily finally convinced Tom that Albania is not the vacation spot of the world. He agreed to go and basilisk—er—bask in the beautiful Hawaiian sunshine, but if this was going to be a second honeymoon of sorts—whoever said Lily and Tom were married anyway—Tom insisted, she had to find a babysitter.

Lily asked all of her witch sisters if they would baby-sit. She asked Pansy, Daisy, Rose, Camilla, Violet, Begonia, Poppy and Tulip, but none of them would trade their life of wild magic for a few weeks of Harry. It wasn't that he was a bad child—But it just seemed as if trouble followed him. He was so accident prone that they were afraid of the DARK LORD.

Lily knowing that her muggle sister Petunia wouldn't want to watch Harry either, she had to set up some sort of ruse. "OK," said Lily, "Let's be sure we have the story straight. This DARK LORD killed us both. Petunia is Harry's only living relative."

"But surely she knows about your other sisters?" said Tom.

"No, she's blocked out all knowledge of magic. Poor little squib."

"But Lily," said Tom hesitantly. "They seem like the worst sort of muggles."

"Oh they are," said Lily. "Slytherin muggles. It will toughen him up. Maybe he'll quit being so accident-prone. Ready. Let's drop off the baby basket, and go alter a few memories on Hagrid, McGonagall, and Dumbledore. Then we'll be on our way."

"I don't know—" said Tom.

"Stop worrying. He'll be famous. The boy who lived through the DARK LORD's avada kedavra curse! You can possess some poor unsuspecting wizard and come and check up on him if you like. I won't mind.

"Oh Lily, you are a saint!"

"No," said Lily exasperated. "That's just what people will think since I gave my life for my son's. Even Harry will think that, and he will be much better for it. He will be stronger."

"Perhaps," said the Dark Lord thoughtfully.

"Stop worrying, Tom," said Lily. "Invite him to the family barbecue at Little Hengleton or something when he gets a little older. Hopefully, he'll have grown a few Ravenclaw brains from somewhere in our background by then."

"Lily? Do you think we have a caldron big enough for a barbeque?"

"Honey, we have a caldron big enough to bathe in!" Lily said. "Just think, you can finally rescue him, look him in the eye on some, dark and stormy night and claim: I AM YOUR FATHER!"

"O-o-o—I like that."

"Good. Let's torch this place, Tommy boy, and go find the sun! Grab the baby basket would you?"

Tom picked up the basket and looked at Harry's normally curly locks. They were sticking up all over the place. "What did you do to his hair?" Tom asked.

"Permanent spikes. Isn't it classy? It'll drive the girls wild!"

Tom attempted to smooth down the errant locks when he noticed something on Harry's forehead. "What's this?" he asked. "Does he still have a bump from that silly table?"

"Oh no, I thought I'd fix it up a little. It's a curse scar," said Lily. "It goes with our story."

"A scar? In the shape of the rune Sowilo?" asked Tom puzzled. "That's the rune for light and power."

"Of course it's Sowilo," snapped Lily, "What did you think it was? N for Neville?"

Tom winced. "I just don't know if that was wise, to mark him so, and using magic over top of a wound" Tom let his voice trail off.

"Oh I didn't use magic," said Lily.

"It's coming off. What did you use?" asked Tom as he rubbed his thumb over Harry's forehead.

"A Sharpy," said Lily with a frown. "Hmmm. Maybe I should have used the permanent marker. Accio permanent marker."

"I'm going to miss him," Tom complained as Lily re-drew the curse scar.

Lily sighed. "You can visit him whenever you like, Tom. We could even make it an annual event."

"All right," agreed Tom reluctantly muttering to himself.. "At the end of each school yearI'll put it on my social calendar. I just wish I could talk to him in between times. Do you think we could draw some sort of antenna on that scar? Parents should communicate with their children, don't you think?"

Lily raised an eyebrow, and tapped her swishy willow wand on her hand. Tom eyed it nervously. He knew how good she was at charms. "Ok Ok," he said picking up the baby basket. "We're off to Hawaii. Just don't turn me into a snake again. All that white skin burns in the sun, you know."

(A/N: Please review. If you enjoyed, Draco Malfoy and the Goblet of Fire is another funny completed story.)