The Boi Who Lived

[this one is inspired by a tweet and a reply I saw earlier this week. Please stop reading right now if you haven’t read/watched the Harry Potter series]

[Disclaimer: read the fine print at the bottom of the about page, and don’t skip to the end, thanks]

The house, or perhaps more appropriately, the dilapidated room, was silent for the moment, suggestive of the occurrence of a trigger event, of something that should’ve been left unspoken being given a voice. And then, in a sudden burst of anger…

“Jesus, Lily!”

“Fuck you, James! Fuck everything! Stay the fuck away from me!”

“What the shit?”

Lily Potter gasped loudly, clenching her fists around the sheets. “My water just broke, James! Help me, please…”

James Potter, her autist husband, looked at her with an expression reminiscent of a sad underpaid clown; happy, retarded, and angry. “But…”

“No buts, James, Jesus fuck! I need medical attention here! If not that, at least gasp some marital attention!”

James stared at the heaving belly in front of him, and told himself to work out more. Then he looked at his pregnant wife, so pure, so beautiful, such a goddamned slut…

“No.”

Lily stared at him, aghast. “You what?!”

“I will not tolerate this blasphemy in this house. I see that you just made up a spell and accelerated the birthing process tenfold, but I fucking hate this. Just you wait…”

“By Dumbledore’s pubes, James! Gandu!”

“This child will never be born, Lily.”

“It’s literally aaaargh popping out of me at the moment, James.”

James ran his eyes along the shelves and cupboards as his wife started thrashing around. Made up spell or not, the baby was coming out faster. “We bought that bloody invisibility cloak last week, yeah?”

Lily paused. “Mighty good discount they gave to us too. Why do you ask? Oof” This last was punctuated by another huge heave. “Labor pains, James…”

“Ah, sod it. Where’s the hanger that came with it?”

Lily’s eyes instinctively danced around the small, darkened room, searching for the last place she’d seen the hanger…but then her brain slowly registered the deeper meaning of James’ words, and she swivelled back to look at him in horror. “Go fuck your patronus, you bastard!”

James laughed, albeit mirthlessly. “Oh hah hah, Lily, that was a really poor choice of words. Now, then. Where’s that darn hanger?”

At this juncture, Lily began to scream. James waited to see whether this was a cry for help or just another welp. It was, as it turned out, both. The boy was showing himself.

In a jiffy, James was at his wife’s crotch, peering at the orifice. Yes, he told himself. Yep, that’s the one.

Unable to restrain himself any further, he pulled out his wand, which he had adoringly christened Dick, and shoved it at the opening, hoping to fatally injure the foetus. It was too late, he told himself. The boy would be out any minute now. Too late…

But even as the tip of the wand (Dick) made contact with the fleshy part of the baby, he felt a current pass through him, and his hand, seemingly of its own accord, jerked around in a zigzag shape, almost like a lightning bolt…

Lily, during all of this, had been screaming like a magical banshee but when the touchy business took place, she kicked gingerly at James’ face. This caused James’ spectacles to fall off, and he left them alone for the time being.

Owing to cinematic liberty, the little baby then pulled itself out and landed in its mother’s arms, who then cut off the umbilical after uttering a phrase that sounded like chaman chiknus. Always wanted to use that one lol, thought Lily. 

James had recovered now, and he strode up to mother and child, an angry look on his face.

Lily immediately switched to her vulnerable mode. Large eyes, sorry face, the whole shebang. “Look here, James.”

“Ohhh I’m looking, all right.”

“Just listen. No matter how or what went wrong here, we have to protect him. He’s our son now.”

Our son?”, scoffed James. “Bloody generous of you, no?”

“Just look at him, James. He’s so pure, despite his origins. And he’s growing so fast, lmao the spell turned out pretty cool.” And James looked. The baby was still ugly as fuck, but he couldn’t deny a certain peaceful quality to it. And it was growing, for sure.

“Aww, alright.” Lily sighed in relief. James went on. “What do we call him then?”

“How about Larry?”

“Larry Potter? Eh, wouldn’t make much of a movie title. How about Harry?”

“Perfect. Oh, look, he’s about to speak.”

Both parents (allegedly) looked lovingly at the baby as it opened its mouth to utter its first words. They hoped it would be some awesome enchantment…

Harry the baby boy, however, had different plans. Inhaling slightly, he snorted. “Wizards are trash.”

Both parents groaned. “The worst baby ever,” said James sadly.

“He lived, though.” Lily smiled wistfully.

“No one will hear of this.” James glared at his wife firmly.

Lily nodded in agreement. “No one.”

James Potter, though, was cooking up a master plan in his brain that would ensure that no one could blame him for anything that had transpired on this day. Damnit, I’ll have to call in Hagrid’s favour.

And so, as the camera panned out, Harry, his mother, his father (not in frame), and James Potter, all went back to their jobs of acting normally. They were unaware of a silent, seething, balding figure just outside, who harbored dire plans for the both of them.

Because no one could know that Voldemort’s secret son thought that wizards were trash.

The End. Evanesco.

[All in good fun, I guess]

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