Selfinsertion O'Bugger Subtlety and the Philosopher's Stone - Nights Mistress
Note: If you haven't worked it out from the title, the main character's name, the category this is stored under or even the premise, this is a parody. It does not reflect my opinions on a lot of things (except the Northern Ireland conflict - in my opinion that is pretty damn stupid) and should not be taken seriously, unless you really want to that is.
You could say that this story started with an owl bearing a letter. You'd be wrong though. Then again, what more should I expect? After all, you have never had to suffer centuries of having the dictatorial British bastards rule every aspect of your life. If you had, I'm sure you'd see it my way.
Anyway, my name is Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety. I used to be a junior member of the IRA, and my adult membership is pending, depending on the success of this mission. And what is this mission? To bring the imperial British to their knees so they'll stop ruling my homeland, Northern Ireland.
The story actually started with an owl being shot out of the sky.
"Oi, Self! Get over here!" my father roared from the other end of the gutted car. "Some bloody bird has a letter for you!" I clambered over from the boot into the front seat, where I was confronted with the corpse of an owl. Sure enough, there was a letter addressed to me.
Boot of gutted car
I opened the letter, eyebrows going to my hairline.
"Hey dad, some crackpot reckons that I'm a wizard," I commented. My father grunted as he watched his watch. The expected explosion rocked the car a few moments later.
"Reilly," my father spat. "Absolutely no sense of timing whatsoever. Couldn't he wait until after mine went off?"
"He's running off the cathedral clock," I replied absently as I continued to read my prank letter. "You know it's fast."
"Everyone knows it's fast!" my father retorted. "We all manage to subtract five minutes however." The car was rocked with yet another explosion. It was much bigger this time, suggesting the use of more then one explosive.
"And that's why we syncronise them!" my father continued. "To prevent warnings like that!"
"Yes dad," I replied, having heard it all before. In fact, I was the one who used to present explosives lectures to the Junior IRA, but to hear dad talk, he's the only person who knows how to make and use them.
"Anyway, what's this?" my father demanded, snatching my letter out of my hand. I considered fighting him for it but decided against it. It wasn't as if I hadn't read it yet.
"Hogwarts? Did you send off for something again Self?" my father asked irately. "I keep telling you, the car is not a valid postal address!"
"No dad. Someone sent it here all by themselves," I replied. "It's not uncommon for people to send letters, you know. "
"But without a letter bomb?" my father blurted, horrified. "How can that be?" I shrugged.
"Maybe they're really crap at them, or just forgot." My father looked suitably horrified at such a suggestion.
"Anyway, they want you to reply via owl as soon as possible," my father added. We both looked at the owl corpse. This could be difficult.
As it turned out, it wasn't so difficult, because they kept sending more owls. It was hard getting one through all the cross-fire though. This particular owl had a footnote on it, a rather snide one too if you ask me.
ps. Would you please refrain from shooting the owls. It's become almost impossible to encourage one to go anywhere near you now.
"Rude blighters," my father commented. I nodded in agreement.
"Must be English," he added sagely. I nodded again. Only the English would be that stupid. "Come to think on it, I have an idea."
"What's that dad?"
"Well, I've been doing a bit of research, and this Hogwarts place is like the bastion of magical Britain. So if we really wanted to make an impact, we'd have to blow Hogwarts sky high. Only thing is, you're the only one that can do it. Up to it Self?"
"What's in it for me?"
"Apart from getting one step closer to liberating our land? I'll see about full IRA membership."
"Really? Cool!" With this incentive, I quickly wrote a message on the back of the envelope and sent the owl on it's way. It nipped at my fingers and looked as if it would rather gnaw off my hand then go back out there. Too bad. It was going out there if I had to drag it out, shoot it full of adrenaline and laugh as it flew around in circles.
After reading all about it, I was not impressed by Platform 9 and 3/4's. A small boy with a lightning scar on his forehead approached me along the platform. It was time to introduce myself.
At the last minute I stuck out my foot and watched him fall. Other children gave me mixed looks. A blond boy approached me.
"My name is Malfoy," said the stuck up little no-life. "What's yours?"
"O'Bugger-Subtlety," said I. "Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety. I call myself Self for short." The little English prat looked somewhat confused at this.
"What do your friends call you?" he demanded. I shrugged.
"What is a friend?" I asked, somewhat puzzled. In my experience, people fell into three categories; members of the IRA, the police and traitors who sold us out to the police. Depending on which category was calling me, it was either Self, You Little Bastard, or Are You a Nice Boy Who Will Tell Me Things? Somehow I didn't think it was the last two.
"You know, people who like you," Malfoy prompted. Nope, still had no clue. This conversation was getting boring.
"Call me Self," I said dismissively as I walked away. As I walked, I knocked over some girl with bushy hair. Her hair gave me a death stare. Or was that her? It's hard to tell under all that hair. Anyway, she crashed to the ground and called me a few names. I wasn't all that worried. I'd heard worse from my father after Reilly screwed up. She soon shut up after I walked away.
Finally the train whistle blew, and I dived onto the train to search for an empty carriage. If the wizarding world was typified by the three moronic individuals I had just met, then I doubt that I would ever want to associate with them. Unfortunately I was subjected to three little brats. They told me their names when they invaded my area. I immediately christened them Dopey, Grumpy and Sleepy, and referred to them as such for the rest of the train trip.
"Hey, Selfinsertion, have you seen my toad?" Dopey asked. I scowled at him over my book.
"No, Dopey, I haven't. And even if I had, I wouldn't tell you. If you're stupid enough to lose a toad, then that's your look out." Dopey's face crumpled and I mentally smiled. Another job well done. Dopey ran out of the carriage, closely followed by Grumpy. Unfortunately Sleepy remained in the carriage for the rest of the trip.
When the train stopped, I turned off all the lights in the carriage and left Sleepy behind. She should have stayed awake, so I could have chased her out. Oh well. She'll learn. When she wakes up on the return trip to Kings Cross Station.
Some giant thing bellowed that all first years should go to him. Not likely. I've heard all about hazing, and there is no way I'm going in there defenseless. My father packed some little surprises in my bag, but first I had to get to them.
I got caught up in the rush of second to seventh years and was propelled toward some carriages. Shrugging, I climbed aboard one with two students wearing green and silver.
"Who the hell are you?" one demanded. "You're not in Slytherin."
"He's not in any house, Flint. We got ourselves a firstie. Didn't you hear the giant?" the other asked. I shrugged again.
"I don't trust him." This seemed to be the correct response. Both students relaxed.
"I like you kid. What's your name?"
"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety," I replied. "What's yours?"
"Christopher Avery. So what's in the bag?" I quickly closed the bag, having ascertained that my more illicit belongings hadn't been confiscated.
"Just stuff to blow up Hogwarts. You know, the usual," I replied ingenuously. The two Slytherins laughed.
"Wish we'd thought of that in first year," Avery commented in between snickers.
"We were too busy smuggling in brooms," Flint pointed out. "Anyway, he's just joking. Can't you tell?" I put on my innocent look, eyes wide and mouth slightly downturned.
Our conversation was rudely interrupted when one of the teachers rapped loudly on the carriage door.
"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety? Get out here and stop playing games!" a shrill woman's voice cut into the carriage. Both Slytherins winced.
"It's McGonagall," Avery hissed.
"Quick, hide him under the chair!" Flint whispered.
"Accio Selfinsertion!" McGonagall chanted. I swore loudly as I slammed heavily into the carriage wall. The door slammed open and McGonagall dragged me outside.
"Of all the things! Running away from Hagrid, hiding with those two, of all people! You have not made a very good start Mister O'Bugger-Subtlety." I stopped listening after a while. Unlike my father or O'Connell, McGonagall was rather repetitive in her ranting.
She practically threw me onto a boat and stormed off. I glared sullenly at the other two occupants of the boat, two girls that glared back at me.
"Who do you think you are?" one asked, a snobby girl with wispy blonde hair demanded. "We've been waiting forever for you!"
"I know exactly who I am," I replied coolly. "Unfortunately, if you need help in that department, I can't be of use. Sorry."
The other girl gasped and her fists clenched.
"Oh, and before I forget, silencio!" The trip was nice and quiet after that. Of course McGonagall was not happy about removing the charm and the detention that she issued wasn't going to be fun, but it was worth it.
After the detention was sorted out, we were walked into the Great Hall. It wasn't that great. In fact it just looked like a huge room full of students. Much like school back home.
The hat started to sing, and I tuned it out. It was easy, after all, my older sister Mary was much louder then that.
"Now when I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," McGonagall recited. I prepared myself for a long wait.
And it was.
"O'Bugger-Subtlety, Selfinsertion!" she called out finally, almost drowned out by the cheers from the Slytherin table. I think I like them. I rolled my eyes at her. She looked affronted. The cheers doubled.
I placed the hat on my head and waited.
"Now you won't be a problem at all to sort," the hat mused. "It's clear cut where you go."
"And where's that?" I asked.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat roared. I yanked the hat off my head and rubbed at my ears. The Slytherins weren't cheering anymore. In fact, they looked rather confused. I smiled apologetically and walked over to the Hufflepuff table.
"Hey Selfinsertion!" a boy beside me yelled. I turned around, mild frown on my face.
"I'm Justin. Haven't I seen you somewhere?" I frowned.
"Maybe," I replied. Justin frowned for a moment, then his eyes widened as realisation dawned on him. He opened his mouth to speak, but an older student tapped him on the shoulder.
"Later," she said meaningfully. I frowned. What was going to happen later?
Authors Note: This was inspired by an early start at work and the complaint of there being too many 'American Exchange Students' fics. So I wrote a story about the anti-Mary Sue. Or is that an inverse Mary Sue? I really should stop doing my maths revision while writing fanfic.
If you're curious about the full story about Selfinsertion's birth, email me!
So, should I continue? Review me! Even if it's to tell me what you last ate, or that you hate cucumber, I don't mind. Flames are fun too.