Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Harry Potter and The Parody of Fanfiction ❯ Harry Wakes Up ( Chapter 1 )
[ A - All Readers ]
By: Thoughtless Wanderer 
Harry Wakes Up- this parody was started after the fifth book, before the sixth.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 01.31.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 906 | Visits: 424 | Status: Work In Progress
Harry Wakes Up- this parody was started after the fifth book, before the sixth.
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 01.31.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 906 | Visits: 424 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter One:
“Potter, get your lazy bum out of that bed this instant.“Uncle Vernon’s voice could be heard even over the sound coming out of Dudley’s room. He had gotten a new videogame.
Harry slowly and reluctantly crawled out of bed. He did not want to get up as he had not yet decided what kind of mood he was in yet. Was he A) going to wallow in the depths of misery over the deaths of Cedric and Sirius (again) eschewing, yes, you read that right, eschewing, his friends completely and retreating into a shell of his former self until a certain Slytherin (also known as the Slytherin Sex God) came to the rescue, even though he had never before shown signs of being gay or B) decide that life was living after all especially now that Voldemort was defeated (though the author does not wish to say how he was defeated mostly because she wishes to get that bit of misery out of the way so she can concentrate on a sappy love story instead).
He decided to go for option B. He was never much of one for dark and angst anyway. He was, after all, a Gryffindor.
Thanks to Voldemort’s convenient demise, Harry now had time to devote to all the girls in his life, though his present dilemma seemed insurmountable: should it be Ginny who had hero-worshipped him in first year and who, we, as in the audience reading the story and the author because she loves messing with other peoples lives, are going to conveniently forget, has a boyfriend (And the author is going digress a moment because she would just like to congratulate all those out there who followed that last sentence as it was not exactly coherent). Or, would Harry go for Hermione, the faithful best friend who had helped save the day, and likely the world, so many times with her vast amounts of knowledge she got from reading books larger than herself. Though in this case, Hermione too had a crush on someone other than Harry: Ron, the other faithful best friend who has also suppressed feelings for his friend and will continue to repress feelings for her until the seventh book. But again, the author digresses.
Having made his decision, choosing between option A or B of course, not Ginny or Hermione as of yet, Harry strode over to his closet and flung open the door, its meager contents arranged carefully on the shelves. Nothing suitable for wearing to the Burrow where he was going in a few days (and would meet both ladies in question). He would have to go shopping, a prospect that, for unknown reasons, had not yet occurred to him, though he had enough money in his Gringotts account and it was simple matter of changing it into muggle money.
Now, however, he pulled off the clothes he slept in (because the author had decided that a great, handsome, and, of course, sexy hero such as himself would not be caught dead wearing pajamas and so put him into a t-shirt and boxers for the night), and gazed into the mirror that hung on the open closet door. As he gazed, he thought about how much he had changed.
Even though school had vacated a mere three weeks ago, Harry had shot up in height. He had grown about eight inches, standing at just over 6’3”. Also amazingly, one might even go as far as to say unbelievably, he had gained muscle “in all the right places” (though the author here pauses to wonder where a wrong place to gain muscle would be), although the Dursley’s still did not give him enough to eat.
Now he stood, admiring his form, completely ignoring the fact that the act of doing so was decidedly out of character. “Not bad, Potter. Not bad at all.” he thought to himself, also ignoring the fact that to refer to himself in such a manner was also out of character.
He ran a hand over his hair. It was getting a little shaggy. “Maybe I’ll have it cut while I’m out shopping today.” he mused. Yes, mused. Because this is Harry Potter and he can never just think, he has to muse.
He pulled on an old shirt of Dudley’s that had shrunk in the wash and that showed off his biceps quite nicely since he had torn the sleeves off (so he would not get as hot when he weeded his aunt’s garden, get your mind out of the gutter). He also pulled on the tightest fitting pair of pants he could find (because they had once been Dudley’s and were none too tight to begin with and he could not at the moment find a belt, of course. What it with you people and your dirty minds?) He then went downstairs to help his Aunt Petunia make breakfast, ignoring his uncle who claimed he had the worst hearing in the world and who was shaking his fist at him from the bottom of the staircase.
Chapter One:
“Potter, get your lazy bum out of that bed this instant.“Uncle Vernon’s voice could be heard even over the sound coming out of Dudley’s room. He had gotten a new videogame.
Harry slowly and reluctantly crawled out of bed. He did not want to get up as he had not yet decided what kind of mood he was in yet. Was he A) going to wallow in the depths of misery over the deaths of Cedric and Sirius (again) eschewing, yes, you read that right, eschewing, his friends completely and retreating into a shell of his former self until a certain Slytherin (also known as the Slytherin Sex God) came to the rescue, even though he had never before shown signs of being gay or B) decide that life was living after all especially now that Voldemort was defeated (though the author does not wish to say how he was defeated mostly because she wishes to get that bit of misery out of the way so she can concentrate on a sappy love story instead).
He decided to go for option B. He was never much of one for dark and angst anyway. He was, after all, a Gryffindor.
Thanks to Voldemort’s convenient demise, Harry now had time to devote to all the girls in his life, though his present dilemma seemed insurmountable: should it be Ginny who had hero-worshipped him in first year and who, we, as in the audience reading the story and the author because she loves messing with other peoples lives, are going to conveniently forget, has a boyfriend (And the author is going digress a moment because she would just like to congratulate all those out there who followed that last sentence as it was not exactly coherent). Or, would Harry go for Hermione, the faithful best friend who had helped save the day, and likely the world, so many times with her vast amounts of knowledge she got from reading books larger than herself. Though in this case, Hermione too had a crush on someone other than Harry: Ron, the other faithful best friend who has also suppressed feelings for his friend and will continue to repress feelings for her until the seventh book. But again, the author digresses.
Having made his decision, choosing between option A or B of course, not Ginny or Hermione as of yet, Harry strode over to his closet and flung open the door, its meager contents arranged carefully on the shelves. Nothing suitable for wearing to the Burrow where he was going in a few days (and would meet both ladies in question). He would have to go shopping, a prospect that, for unknown reasons, had not yet occurred to him, though he had enough money in his Gringotts account and it was simple matter of changing it into muggle money.
Now, however, he pulled off the clothes he slept in (because the author had decided that a great, handsome, and, of course, sexy hero such as himself would not be caught dead wearing pajamas and so put him into a t-shirt and boxers for the night), and gazed into the mirror that hung on the open closet door. As he gazed, he thought about how much he had changed.
Even though school had vacated a mere three weeks ago, Harry had shot up in height. He had grown about eight inches, standing at just over 6’3”. Also amazingly, one might even go as far as to say unbelievably, he had gained muscle “in all the right places” (though the author here pauses to wonder where a wrong place to gain muscle would be), although the Dursley’s still did not give him enough to eat.
Now he stood, admiring his form, completely ignoring the fact that the act of doing so was decidedly out of character. “Not bad, Potter. Not bad at all.” he thought to himself, also ignoring the fact that to refer to himself in such a manner was also out of character.
He ran a hand over his hair. It was getting a little shaggy. “Maybe I’ll have it cut while I’m out shopping today.” he mused. Yes, mused. Because this is Harry Potter and he can never just think, he has to muse.
He pulled on an old shirt of Dudley’s that had shrunk in the wash and that showed off his biceps quite nicely since he had torn the sleeves off (so he would not get as hot when he weeded his aunt’s garden, get your mind out of the gutter). He also pulled on the tightest fitting pair of pants he could find (because they had once been Dudley’s and were none too tight to begin with and he could not at the moment find a belt, of course. What it with you people and your dirty minds?) He then went downstairs to help his Aunt Petunia make breakfast, ignoring his uncle who claimed he had the worst hearing in the world and who was shaking his fist at him from the bottom of the staircase.