Here it is... the first parody I have ever posted on this site!This is a very insane, pointless story, butit was very fun to write. So don't be surprised if it is OC and doesn't make much sense. It is, after all, a parody!

Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowlings.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, skipped happily onto the Hogwarts Express, waving merrily to everyone on the platform. And since there were over a hundred different people milling about there, it took quite a lot of waving. In fact, he broke his wrist!

"Gosh golly gee!" Our hero shouted, quite put out. Harry stood there, waiting for some kindly wizarding folk or crazed admirer to come and help him. No one came. "Isn't anyone going to notice me? Hello-o, I am your supposed SAVIOUR! Pay attention to me!"

The busy wizards and witches continued to ignore the boy. By general agreement, they had all decided that Harry, being nearly seventeen and old enough to tie his own shoes (a trick that he had been shown last year by Hermione), should be able to take care of himself. Also, the fact was that everyone was sick to death of the stupid idiot.

Harry, suddenly sensing he was unwanted, began sobbing uncontrollably. He stumbled into his compartment, tearing at his hair and clothing in fits of sadness. Ron and Hermione stared at him, and, rolling their eyes simultaneously, they looked each other in the eye with the usual 'Oh-no-it-is another-one-of-Harry's-stupid-idiotic-melodramatic-overrated-pansyboy-outbursts-of-heroworthy-angst-and-anguish-that-will-completely-ruin-our-day' look.

Hermione walked resignedly over to Harry, and began to comfortingly pat him on the back. Over her shoulder, she motioned to Ron to grab a nice, handy bludger bat, to hit Harry over the head with if necessary.

"Oh Hermione, I'm so ALONE! No one LIKES me!" Harry wailed.

"You got that right, loser." Hermione murmured under her breath. Then, she said loudly, in an overly sweet voice, "Of course that is not true, Harry. WE like you!" …like a hole in the head.

Harry looked up at Hermione, and, feeling very comforted, decided that he had fallen in love with Hermione.

"Hermione, do you love me?"


"Hermione, will you kiss me?"

"Heck, no."

"Hermione, will you make out with me?"

"Holy-----, NO!"

"Hermione, will you marry me?"

"----------------------------------------" Hermione cursed long and hard. Harry, being the simpleton that he is, did not understand a word that she said. In fact, he admired her even more for being able to speak a second language.

"I didn't know that you could speak French, my love!" Harry gushed, "You're so talented!"

Ron quickly came over and bonked Harry on the head with his bat. This was an ordinary procedure for them. They did it about five times every day. And if you think that so much bonking on the head could hurt Harry's brain, than it would be necessary to tell you that you can only hurt a brain if there were any brain to hurt.

Harry's unconscious form was rolled beneath their seats just as the train started up. Hermione and Ron searched Harry's pockets for money and came up with a few dozen galleons. When the kindly-old-woman-that-went-around-selling-candy-to-stupid-brats reached their compartment, they were able to buy everything on the trolley. This made the kiddies that had not gotten the chance to buy sweets very unhappy when the kindly-old-woman-that-went-around-selling-candy-to-stupid-brats told them that she was all out of food.

Hermione opened up her Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans box, saying gratefully, "I am so glad that they have finally decided to label each of these beans. It makes me feel so much safer."

So saying, she picked up a yellowish orange colored bean and tapped it with her wand. Up from the small piece of candy flowed silverish lettering, which hung in the air long enough for her to read it before fading away.

"Cool, cat flavor!" Ron exclaimed, face stuffed with chocolate, staring at the bean. "You gonna eat that, Hermione?"

The girl looked dubiously at the cat flavored bean. Finally, with a shrug, she popped it into her mouth. Hermione paused, chewed, swallowed, and smacked her lips.

"Whoa! That is really good!" Hermione cried, than she stared at the box. "Any more cat flavored ones?"

"Nope." Ron said, staring into the box.

"Must have more cats." Hermione whispered. Suddenly, she turned to Crookshanks. "Hmmm, you look tasty."

Crookshanks sat on the cushions that Hermione had bought for him, glaring at the girl in all his pudgy glory. Hermione advanced on the cat, wand raised…

When the trio got off the train and walked into Hogwarts, Harry could not help but ask where Crookshanks was.

"Hermione, where's your cat?"

"None of your beeswax." Hermione said.

"Hermione, why do you have those weird red splotches all over your uniform? And why is there cat fur stuck to your hands?"

Ron and Hermione stared at each other, and Ron once more pulled out his bat.

"It would be best if you told no one about this." Hermione said darkly, as Ron brandished his weapon.

"Okey-dokey." said Harry happily. And he quickly forgot about the incident, having the memory-span of a pea.

The time came once more for the welcoming feast at Hogwarts. Harry sat in between Ron and Hermione, smiling and waving at all the kids.

"Stop that! You'll break your wrist again." Hermione warned, grabbing Harry's hand.

"I knew you loved me!" Harry screamed.

"Shut up!" Hermione snarled.

Than, the first years had their sorting, which no one cares about anyway. Dumbledore said his little speech…

"Hey, wait a second. Isn't Dumbledore supposed to be on a cruise or something?" Ron asked, loudly. Dumbledore turned his head quickly to the young red-head. His twinkling blue eyes narrowed.

"Yeah!" voiced a random student. "He went on some trip to the Caribbean. Said he was on some 'official wizarding' business, but my dad tells me that he only went there for the pretty gir-"

"SILENCE! You fools! You have revealed me to be what I truly am!" Dumbledore raged, eyes glowing red, fire coming from his mouth.

"I have?" Ron swiveled his face around, looking for who the headmaster might be talking to. "Wait… You're talking to me?"

"Exactly what are you revealed to be?" Hermione piped up.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dumbledore looked at the students. They all shook their heads, bewildered.

"I am Lord Voldemort!" Shouted Dumbledore, and immediately he began to take off the headmaster's light blue robes.

"Stripper!" Harry squealed, shielding his eyes. Dumbledore/Voldemort scowled at him.

"Shut up, you stupid boy!" And Voldemort continued to take off the heavy outer robes that Dumbledore wears. It took him several long minutes. "! Why the did the old man wear so much clothes?"

Finally, Dumbledore's blue robes dropped to the floor to reveal… Voldemort in BLACK robes!

"Twins!" Snape screeched. "I knew you had the same fashion taste as me! High-five, girlfriend!"

With much deliberation, Voldemort stalked over to Snape and slapped him.

"Ouch! Is that all the thanks I get for serving you faithfully for seventeen years?" Snape howled, hurt. Than he looked up, seeing everyone staring at him. "Oops. Forget you ever heard that, okay?"

People continued to stare at him, and so Snape decided that it would be best not to talk anymore. He sat at his seat glowering menacingly at random people for the rest of the proceedings.

Voldemort looked once more at the student body of Hogwarts, puzzled.

"Well? Isn't anybody here gonna scream?"

The students stared at him with blank faces. Only one person screamed.

"Harry, why the heck are you screaming?" Hermione whispered urgently.

"Because that man just told me to!" Harry said brightly, and let out another shriek, just in case no one had heard him yet.

"So you'll do whatever some bizarre old wizard in fancy robes tells you to do?" Ron asked.

"Well, he's been doing the exact same thing with Dumbledore for the last six years. I suppose he just doesn't have enough brains to think things out on his own."

Ron agreed. He helped Hermione to shut Harry up with his ever handy bat.

Voldemort sighed. "Why is no one screaming? Aren't you scared of me?" No one answered. They were all too busy eating.

"Fine then, I'll just call up my minions! Let's see how scared you are when you witness my cruel Deatheaters at work!"

The Dark Lord drew out his wand, pausing briefly for a moment just to see if anyone was getting scared now that they saw he was armed. All that reached his ears was the sound of people chewing and the occasional burp.

"I must be losing my touch." He murmured. Going once more over to Snape, he pulled back the sleeves of the Potions Master's robes and placed the point of his wand against the Dark Mark tattoo on his arm.

"Ouchies!" Snape complained.

Suddenly, the room went dark. Sounds like the wails of a banshee and the screech of bats rang through the room. A billow of gray black clouds descended like mist to cover the eyes of the bored…I mean terrified… students.

When the fog cleared away, it revealed the horrible, monstrous, merciless countenances of…

"AUGHHHHH!" Harry shrieked.

Hermione looked in surprise at Harry. "You're supposed to be unconscious!"

Harry looked down at himself, felt the many bumps on his forehead, and shrugged. Than he looked back up and shrieked again. "It's Lucious Malfoy in a TOWEL!"

There was another shriek. "AUGHHHHHH! It's my DAD in a TOWEL!"

Crabbe and Goyle (the younger ones) looked down in surprise at Malfoy (the younger one).

"Hey, Draco, aren't you supposed to be knocked out? Remember, we hit you on the head with our bat when you professed your undying love to your treacle tart?" asked Crabbe, slightly put out.

"Ughh. That was really weird. Especially when you tried to propose to it. I had to hit you really hard on the head for THAT one." Goyle spoke, massaging his lovely bat. He looked down at it. "Maybe I should get a new bat. I've been wondering why you haven't stayed unconscious as long as you should. It's annoying the heck out of all of us."

Malfoy shook his head, exasperated. "That is beside the point. But…but…look up there!"

Crabbe and Goyle looked.


"Daddy!" Goyle complained. "I told you not to wear dresses in public anymore! No one likes it when men wear women's clothing! It's just not normal!"

"Daddy!" Crabbe shouted. "I told you that you shouldn't wear maroon! You just don't look good in those reddish hues! Next time you wear a dress, wear a green one or something. No one likes it when men wear women's clothing that doesn't look good on them!"

Both of the fathers had the decency to look ashamed.

Voldemort looked at the three Deatheaters with distaste. "Firstly, where are the others?"

Lucious Malfoy, stuttering slightly in embarrassment, clutching his towel closely to himself, managed to speak, "Well, my…my lord, the fact is that …um… no one else wanted to be your servant anymore!"

"Yeah." mumbled Goyle Senior. "They all didn't see the point anymore. I mean, what's the purpose of following a crackpot, senile old wizard who can't even manage to kill a simpleton with glasses!"

"Who you calling a simpleton!" shouted Harry. He looked around, everyone was staring at him. "Oh, you're talking about me? Well that is okay! I though you were talking about Dumbledore! You know how I swore to be completely loyal to him and all…"

"…because you can't think for yourself." Hermione muttered under her breath.

"How dare they!" Voldemort tirades, ignoring the stupid brats, "After all I've done for them! What more can they want? An extra coffee break? More donuts? I may be all powerful…" the Deatheaters scoff "…but I'm not rich!"

All the while, from the teacher's table, Professor McGonegal had watched the proceedings with slight trepidation. Oh, she knew that the bumbling Voldemort couldn't be much danger. But for the children to witness those three Deatheaters dressed in such a fashion (Crabbe and Goyle seniors in dresses, and Lucious Malfoy practically naked!) could scar the poor dears for life.

I must go and warn Dumbledore. She thought. And without those foolish "Deatheaters" noticing! Quietly, Professor McGonegal muttered a few spells under her breath, and before long she was in her animagus form, a cat…

"Secondly," Voldemort snarled at his three minions, "why are you all dressed like that?"

"I'm sorry, my lord, I..I was just trying to take a shower!" whined Lucious.

Crabbe and Goyle seniors looked at each other before saying, "Well, we just like to wear dresses. Makes us feel so free and all that."

Voldemort nodded at the two. "I completely understand how you feel. I've worn a dress or two in my day…" His head snapped up to glare menacingly at the students. "And don't tell anyone I said that, okay?"

Suddenly, there were squeals from the back. There was the sound of cursing, crashing, some cat yowls, and, strange enough, chewing. Then there was silence.

"Hermione ate Professor McGonegal!" screamed a random Gryfindor student. Than there was a thunk as the random Gryfindor student was hit on the head with a bat.


The students stared at him without moving. Hermione belched.

"ALL RIGHT! Go to your BEDS! Leave me ALONE!" Voldemort sat down, head aching. I know there is something that I am supposed to be doing, I just don't know what! He thought, angrily.

He turned to hear Snape, who had been sitting in his seat the whole time, mumbling under his breath: "Stupid Potter and his friends. I swear I could kill that boy."

Suddenly it hit Voldemort… "Ouch!" screeched the Dark Lord.

Voldemort remembered that he had come to Hogwarts to do one thing (well, maybe several things…after all, he had also learned that Dumbledore was hiding some pretty good booze…) and that was to… kill Harry Potter!

At that moment, Harry was walking down the aisle way to the doors. Well, he was trying to walk down the aisle, but he was having trouble concentrating on such a task. You see, our hero was eating banana, and dear Harry had not yet gotten the hang of walking and eating at the same time. Multitasking hurt his focus.

"Stop, you! Come here so I can kill you!" Voldemort shouted, struggling to push past the milling students that were walking behind Harry. He kept screaming at the boy, but because Harry's mind was so intent upon chewing his banana and moving his feet at the same time, he didn't hear him.

Finally, just as Voldemort was three feet behind Harry and reaching out his wand to curse him, Harry finished eating his banana. With a sigh of satisfaction, Harry threw the banana peel behind himself. Voldemort, who was running so fast, did not see the peel. His foot touched it in mid-stride and he slipped. Voldemort fell to the floor and, with a loud crack, broke his neck.

Voldemort, the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the former Tom Riddle, died because of a banana peel.

Everyone paused to look at what had just happened, and….

"Finally! I have waited so long for that stupid brat to get rid of that senile old crackpot! Today, the world is free of the most annoying wizard alive!" yelled Snape at the top of his lungs. He got up and began to do a little jig.

The Deatheaters, seeing that their master was now dead, quickly made a getaway while everyone else was preoccupied. They managed to steal some cake, a box of brownies, and Neville's sock. Their evilness shocks us.

Hermione and Ron ran over to Harry.

"Harry! You fulfilled the prophecy! YOU KILLED VOLDEMORT!" shrieked Hermione, ecstatic.

"Gee!" said Harry. Per usual, our hero had once more saved the day without the use of what normal people might call a brain. In Harry's case, we'd have to say brain cell.

Exasperated, Ron and Hermione looked each other in the eye. Hermione nodded, and the two friends pulled out their wands simultaneously.

"Harry," Hermione spoke gravely, "we have kept you alive for the sake of all of mankind. And, now that Voldemort is dead, for the sake of all of mankind, we must kill you."

"Why thank you, Hermione! I think you are an incredible hottie, too!" Harry said eyes blank and uncomprehending. Once more he had gone into his own little fantasy world.

Hermione sighed, and, turning to Ron once more, she whispered, "Make it quick. Remember, it's a mercy stroke. No one in the world could be so idiotic and still be happy."

Meanwhile, dear Harry began to sing:

I'm the happiest man in the world!

I got myself a girl

She thinks I'm a hottie

She got a nice body

And I'll dance with a leap and a twirl

Harry commenced dancing, humming to himself. The Hogwarts student body that had not already gone to bed gathered round to watch, whispering and giggling. Sensing all the attention he was getting, Harry began to dance faster, shaking his butt in tune to the rhythm.

Ron slapped his face while Hermione groaned. They raised their wands and prepared their spells.

"Let's do this." Ron whispered. Hermione nodded again…

A few hours later, when Ron and Hermione entered the Gryfindor dormitory, they were greeted with loud cheers. Several random students walked up to them, thanking them for getting rid of such a menace and saving their sanity.

"I was wondering when someone was going to bump off that Potter. He's been alive too long for my liking." Seamus Finnigan grinned. "I wonder why you never did that before!"

"Ya see…" drawled Ron, who was slightly drunk after a night of partying, "we needed ta keep da bloke alive 'cause of that prophecy. No one else could get rid of dat pesky 'Lord' Voldemort. Course, I pro'bly could!"

Hermione slouched in a corner, glaring steadily at Ron. Man, it ticked her off so badly when Ron took all the credit for something she had thought of in the first place! Also, he was hogging all the booze…

The next day, Ron and Hermione were shocked to discover that, despite the death of Lord Voldemort, dark magic in the wizarding world was increasing.

"Why? I thought that it was only because of Voldemort that there was so much dark magic in the first place!" exclaimed Ginny while sitting with the two friends at breakfast.

"Well, the fact is that Voldemort was actually a liability for the Deatheaters. He was so incompetent and annoying that he made his followers not want to be quite so evil anymore. With him hanging over their heads like a dead chipmunk, they were disgruntled. But now, with Voldemort gone they're enthusiastic and as deadly as ever!"

Hermione glanced at Ron in case he wanted to say anything. Ron was sitting with his head in his hands, groaning. It serves him right that he got a hangover. She thought with devilish satisfaction.

"Someone, please make my brain stop rattling! Oh, my head hurts!" Ron whimpered, rubbing his eyes vigorously.

"Maybe your brain would stop rattling if it were a bit bigger." Hermione sneered. Suddenly, she felt very bad. Something inside of her heart began to ache, squeezing it like toothpaste.

"NNNNOOOOOO!" shrieked Hermione, grabbing her hair. "I'm dying! Some parasite is slowly destroying me!"

"Actually," spoke a voice from absolutely no where, "it's called a conscience, which is like a parasite, except for the fact that it's supposed to be good for you."

The Great Hall began to brighten, and a golden light descended from the ceiling. The sound of distant singing filled the air…

"It hurts my ears! Too loud…" moaned Ron. Ginny clamped her hand over his mouth to shut him up.

There appeared a brilliant figure, swathed in white, who appeared before the gaping students.

"An angel!" cried a first year.

"No!" shouted Seamus. "It's HARRY POTTER!"

Indeed it was Harry, in all his glory. He smiled and waved at them as he descended from the sky, a moronic look of bland stupidity in his eyes as he, once more, broke his wrist with too much waving. Wings extended from his back and a little halo hung over his tangled black hair.

"What are you doing here!" Hermione asked, outraged. This was most definitely not part of her plan. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"I am?" Harry looked dumbfounded. "Oh, I was wondering why I suddenly got these weird bird wings. Thought it was some side effect of all those steroids I take."

Everyone stared at him. Harry, looking slightly nervous, began to sing to himself:

I'm the happiest man in the world!

I got myself a…

"Ouchies!" Harry shouted when Hermione punched him.

"Why the heck did you come here!" Hermione growled. Her every feature was tensed in anger, fists clenched, mouth foaming.

"Hermione has rabies!" A random student shouted. There was a thunk as the random student was silenced with a bat (again).

Harry looked slightly confused, and he screwed his angelic face up into a frown, struggling to think. Sweat beaded his forehead as he tried to force some form of thought into his teeny brain cell. Finally, he remembered…

"Oh, yeah! Some big white-haired guy in the skies told me to give you this note!"

And with that, Harry strode over and plopped a crumpled piece of paper in Ron's hands. Ron moaned, rubbed his eyes, and looked at the paper, scrunching his eyes to read it.

"What's this, some type of fortune telling?" Ron mumbled, scratching his red hair in surprise. "I can't quite read it, the words are so blurry. Can't think straight…"

"What does it say? What does it say?" Hermione ran to Ron's side. Grabbing the note from her friend's hand and slapping him when he complained. She read the note, eyes widening.

Reading aloud, she said:

"Ronald Weasley, you are the Half-Chosen-One,

A hero destined to try and always serve the side of good

You shall never be beaten…"

At this part, Ron pumped his hands in the air with a grin.

"But at the same time, you shall never win"

Ron frowned.

"But keep on fighting!

You provide a good laugh for us angels up here

And it is so darn boring without some idiot making us chuckle.

And since that Potter kid is gone, we need to make do with what we got.

See you soon!


The Angels of Heaven"

"What do they mean that I'll never be beaten but will never win?" Ron asked, slightly annoyed.

Hermione shrugged. She didn't particularly care.

Once more the sound of singing could be heard. Harry smiled broadly and waved with his other good hand. Slowly, he began to float upwards, upwards until…. with a crash, Harry hit the ceiling. He plummeted to the floor and crushed a first year.

"I'm okay!" shouted a slightly tousled Harry. "I think, however, that I'll try walking this time."

The next couple of days were spent staring at newspapers, marveling in amazement at the growing number of Deatheater terrorist attacks.

"Look, another article!" exclaimed Hermione one day, "A muggle was beaten to death with a rubber chicken. Again!"

"The horror!" screeched Ron, flabbergasted. "I need to do something!"

With that, Ron ran into a nearby classroom, shoving a couple of kissing teenagers into the hallway. There was the sound of some zippers zipping and a few grunts of frustration.

"I knew I shouldn't have eaten those extra cupcakes." muttered Ron. Finally… "Ta da tum tum ta da!" Ron hummed, and jumped out of the classroom dressed completely in a leotard, a cape, a weird looking Viking cap, and the letters RW emblazoned on his chest.

"Where did you get the superhero costume?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Mum made it for me." Ron's ears were slightly pink. But he soon got over it and raced up the stairs of the castle to reach the rooftop. Hermione followed him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing, Ron!" Hermione cried.

"I believe I can fly!" Ron screamed, and immediately leaped off the side of the castle.

Briefly, you could hear in the background Ron singing the "You Can Fly" song from Peter Pan. But that quickly stopped as Ron reached the ground. There was a loud crash and a few screams.

"Stupid idiot." Hermione grumbled, wandering over to the side of the tower. She glanced over to where Ron had fallen. "Holy ----! He's not dead yet!"

It was, in fact, true. Ron had fallen just at the moment that the Deatheaters, now stronger than ever and under the guidance of Lucious Malfoy (fully clothed), had been entering the front gate of Hogwarts. They (the Deatheaters) had decided, over a quiet cup of tea, to raid the school. It seemed like such a fun thing to do at the time. Though they hadn't planned for some weirdo in a Viking hat to fall on top of them!

"Ouch!" screeched about half the Deatheater gang. Ron, staring at himself, pumped the air in victory.

"I am not dead! Halleluiah!"

Ron began to hug all the Deatheaters gratefully. Than, realizing who exactly he was hugging, sprang away.

"We are sworn enemies!" Ron cried. "It is my destiny to fight you!"

"Oh yeah! Well, I think your mother looks like a pumpkin!" shouts a Deatheater, annoyed.

"No one is allowed to insult pumpkins like that! I'll show you!"

And with that, Ron hurls himself upon them, wand raised.

An epic battle commences. It was Ron, our hero, the chosen… wait a moment… half-chosen one, against the forces of evil. Just as the angels of heaven had said. And since the angels of heaven had also said that Ron would neither win, nor be beaten, the fight would go on forever…and ever….and ever…

Hermione, realizing that she was rid of Ron for all of eternity, got to work establishing herself as queen of the universe. This worked out very well, and Hermione managed to become extremely successful. Between discovering cures for lycanthropy and solving world hunger (by having people eat cats, of course), Hermione also managed to find time to marry and have five kids.

So, in the end, things turned out all right. For the people I like, at least. I would hate to say that they lived happily ever after, because they really didn't. No one does, and that's life. So all I can really say is…

And they lived crazily ever after!

"Where's my treacle tart!"

"Shut up, Draco!"

The End


Well, that's all folks. I hope you could make sense out of it. I kind of just ramble on and on a bit at points, and it has no real plot, but... deal with it! Reviews will be welcome. No flamers, only constructive criticism and compliments :-D