Harry Potter Because Arrogance Does Not Become Him

[Glimmervoid]

Inspired by Takerial’s new fic and a few comments I made a long time ago.

Back when I still read a lot of fan fiction, one of the things that really annoyed me was how terribly arrogant Harry could be in some fics, especially of the Independent!Harry kind.

Perhaps what annoyed me the most was when Harry would make a completely groundless assumption about the way the world worked, usually to the detriment of characters (or characters) the author didn’t like, and it would of course turn out to be true.

So I propose an idea’s thread for when this does not happen.

Post a typical Independent!Harry assumption, or example of arrogance, and describe how it back fires on him. Examples can just be descriptions or in narrative/snippet form.

For full points your assumption should be as clichéd as possible, completely groundless and only true because of author faint. Bonus point to anyone who posts common Independent!Harry clichés that are also actively contradicted by canon.

Okay, to get the ball rolling, here are a few of my own. Oh and remember, keep it fun. Let's not get to serous here, other wise it will be no better than what we are parodying.

****

“And another thing,” fumed Harry, “why have I never received a bank statement. Its Dumbledore, I know it. He’s trying to keep things from me!”

The goblin let out a long suffering sigh, well used to dealing with irate humans, and flicked through the immense ledger in front of him.

“Harry James Potter you said?” he said, boredom infecting his voice.

“You know quite well who I am!”

“I’m quite sure I don’t,” said the goblin. “Resident of Number 42, Wright Road, Godric's Hollow?”

“What no! I live at Number 4 Privet Drive.”

“And how long have you lived there, sir?”

“I don’t know. Since I was one and a half years old.”

The goblin made a few marks on his ledger.

“Wait! What was that?”

“Ten Galleons have been deducted from you account.”

“Why?”

The goblin gave a very toothy smile. “Failure to keep your address updated.”

****

Harry stalked along the slightly ill kept streets of Knockturn Alley. He knew it wasn’t really a bad place; that was just a lie his so called ‘friends’ told him to keep him away from power. Sure the buildings were not in as good shape as those of Diagon but that just meant the shopkeepers had more important things to do.

After quite a bit of thinking, Harry had come to a conclusion: the way the Ministry tracked underage magic had to be with the wands. Nothing else would make sense.

How else would Dobby have been able to trick the Ministry in to thinking Harry had done magic if not by mimicking his wands magical signature? How else would Pureblood children be able to practise magic over the summer if it was not their house wards blocking their wands’ signals?

Harry had never heard of the term wards before, in reference to magic anyway, but he was sure they must exist too.

At last, he came upon a likely looking shop and burst in the door.

“You there man,” he said, taking to the slightly scruffy shopkeeper. “I’m looking for a custom made wand, none of that Ollivander rubbish.”

The man’s rat eyes almost seem to gleam as he stood up slightly straighter.

“Why of course, young master,” he nodded his head slightly.

At once, Harry could feel a warmth growing in his chest. Here was a man worthy of trust and respect. He could tell right away that the shopkeeper was going to be staunch ally in the fight against Dumbledore. Oh and Voldemort to… Probably, unless that was a lie from Dumbledore as well.

“Good, then,” he said. “Show me what you have.”

“Ah,” said the Shopkeeper. “I hate to bring this up, and spoil what is of course a high art, but there is the matter of money…”

“Money is no object,” said Harry, pulling out his coin purse. It was full of Galleons, the other coins not really worth carrying.

It had taken a bit of work to get them out of the goblins but he’d finally succeeded. Do you have any proof of identification indeed! He was Harry James Potter. Or was he really Harold James Potter… It would be just like Dumbledore to keep something like that from him.

He shook it off. He’d have to ask to see his birth certificate the next time he was in Gringotts. That was the kind of thing banks did right?

The shopkeeper’s eyes were locked on to the bag but Harry knew he only wanted what was best for the world, which of course matched up with what was best for Harry.

“Yes, yes. Of course. Come right this way.”

Harry was lead in to a small back room. The shopkeeper hurried around, picking up random items from boxes, stacked around the room on a collection of dust shelves, and placing them on a equally dusty table.

It was so like the Wizarding World to be sheep, always going to Ollivander for their wands even when this man was so clearly better.

After a few minutes of waiting, Harry spoke up. “Do you want me to perhaps look at the different materials and tell you which feel right to me?”

The shopkeeper was still for a moment then said, “Ah, yes. Right again Young Sir. I can tell you’re a really smart man.”

Harry preened under the compliment. It really wasn’t that hard an idea to come up with. Sure, he’d never felt a connection to any of the innumerable pieces of wood he’d touch over the years but that was likely Dumbledore’s fault. Some kind of blocking spell maybe?

After a bit of effort – it took a lot of concentration to break through whatever spell the Dark Headmaster had used – Harry pointed to a short length of metal and a very brightly coloured feather.

“Good choice, Young Sir, good choice,” said the shopkeeper. “That is, ah, the magical metal Omgrill and a the chest feather from the, err, Ohh-Gah-Boo-Gah Bird, both extremely magical. You must be an exceptionally skilled and powerful wizard.”

Harry was and knew it.

“Now,” continued the shopkeeper. “I’ll just but these two magical components in this box here –“ he pointed to a box, clearly under some kind of disguise spell since it looked to be made from cardboard “- and combine them in to your new wand.”

He took both components and put them in the box. Then he drew his own wand, pulled back both his sleeves, and thrust both hands inside as well.

A cascade of coloured lights burst forth and Harry could feel the magic in the room. After a few minutes, the shopkeeper withdrew his hands, now holding two wands: his own and a new one.

He passed it to Harry.

It was a length of wood, a little less than six inches long and about twice as thick as a pencil. Harry could feel the power in it.

“You might be wondering why it now looks like its made of wood,” said the shopkeeper.

“Ah, yes, I was wondering that,” said Harry, nodding sagely.

“That because of the masking spells I put on it. You wouldn’t want someone to see you’re brand new wand would you?”

That was true. Harry nodded. And it must be a really great masking spell too because it even felt like wood.

“How much?” said Harry.

“Well lets see,” said the shopkeeper, rat eyes once more sparkling. “There will be five –“ he looked at Harry’s face”- that is ten Galleons for the labour and fifteen for the components. They were very rare you know.”

That seemed completely fair to Harry and he counted out the man’s money post haste. When he left he had a happy smile on his face.

Once the boy was well and truly gone, the shopkeeper let his veneer of respect collapse into a sneer, but then he looked down at the twenty-five Galleons in his hand and it became a smile.

Twenty-five Galleons! And all it had cost him was a bit of theatre, a few light spells and a cheep wand made by the hundreds in China!

Omgrill and Ohh-Gah-Boo-Gah Bird feather indeed! Try a nail with the head snapped off and a dyed chicken feather!

He wondered if the idiot wizard knew about the Trace or how it could be confused. Probably not.

 

[Drawde]

Here's a couple from me. Hope you enjoy them.

_____

ô...And then I had to get creative. Crutacious wasn't cutting it anymore, and neither were cutting charms. I had to find some new uses for some obscure medical charms I found. But it worked. I wiped out most of Voldemort's Death Eaters and learned about many of his operations. Plus all of his hideouts. He shouldn't be a threat much longer.ö

ôSo,ö started the judge, ôyou admit to using the Unforgivables several times, torturing nine Death Eaters to death, and sending thirteen others into St. Mungos, probably for life?ö

ôYes. But it needed to be done. It was the only way to shut them down,ö was Harry's reply.

ôThen, since you just admitted your guilt, you are hearby sentenced to live in Azkaban.ö

ôBut you can't do that to me! I'm Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived! You need me to kill Voldemort!ö

ôBe that as it may, it still doesn't excuse your breaking some of our highest laws. Not to mention basic human decency. Take him away.ö

ôBut I'm Harry Potter! You need me! I'm your only hope!ö Harry shouted as he was drug from the courtroom. His yelling could still be heard for some minutes afterwards, as loud as it was.


_____

ôAnd that's what's happened so far,ö Harry told the woman he'd met at the bar. ôI just know Dumbldore's hiding things from me. He keeps saying he keeps putting me with those people every summer to keep me safe, but I know it's just to keep me from learning to defend myself.ö

It had been an exited few days for Harry. He'd managed to steal some of the Dursley's money and left the country. He planned to visit the local branch of Gringot's the next day to see just what Dumbledore had been hiding in Harry's vault from him.

While relaxing that night at a bar, the wizarding world not caring your age unless you tried to buy alcohol, he'd met this woman he was talking to. She'd listened to him for a bit, but asked to continue the conversation in his hotel room once he started ranting about Dumbledore's lies. Saying that even here, it was best not to badmouth Dumbledore in public. Since then, she'd listened to him more, and agreed with everything he said!

ôI managed to get my copy of my Gringot's key, and I plan to visit them tomorrow.ö Harry took a sip of the drink Mary had brought up with them, then stifled a yawn. ôLooks like I'm more tired then I thought. I need... to lie... down for... a... minute...ö and with that he passed out.

Harry woke up later felling groggy, and with a headache. Groaning, he opened his eyes and looked around.

ôMary, where are you?ö He couldn't see her anywhere in the hotel room. He sat up, and noticed something odd. He wasn't wearing anything. He knew he didn't sleep in the nude, and he certainly hadn't had a chance to undress himself.

ôMary?ö he called out again. Then noticed something else. None of his things were in his room! He got out of the bed to examine his room, and heard a piece of paper crumple when he did so. Picking it up, he found it to be a letter.

ôDear Harry,

Thanks for the nice night. By the time you wake up, you should be past due for the next day for your room. Too bad you don't have any money to pay for it! The contents of your vault will already be in their new home and the goblins won't do a thing about it, since all they care about is if someone has the key to it.

Good luck with your life out here.

Mary (not really)

PS Although potions can regrow new bones, we can't do much with large masses of cartilage. Your nose and ears should fetch a nice price on the black market.

Harry dropped the letter and ran into the toilet. His scream could be heard outside the hotel.

 

[zeebee1]

The first one was good. The second one requires too many cliches to qualify as crap. Try again or give up.

The last bit was just pathetic. If she's not an established villain then the money she gets for his body parts, and the fact that she didn't kill him, if just stupid and wouldn't significantly increase her wealth. I'd comment more, but the more I write this the more I have an urge to find out where you live, lock you in your house, and set it on fire.

 

[Drawde]

With the second one, I just had the bodypart stealing at first. Based on an urban legend of organ thieves, actually. I thought it would be funny to have the women Harry met be a wizarding version of them, instead of the normal cliche, where the woman he just met is the best person he could have met, and usually his soulmate. Harry just told his life story to some random stranger on the street. Of course nothing good would come of it. Stealing the rest of his stuff was just added after thinking things through logically.

BTW, in the urban legend the kidney thief never kills the victim. They always wake up in a tub filled with ice, and a note explaining what happened.

 

[zeebee1]

You shouldn't have to explain things. If the body stealing seems tacked on to the readers then you're doing something wrong.

 

[Drawde]

True. This is my second attempt at writing, so I know I need to improve. It's just that it was the other theft that was tacked on, no the body parts.

 

[zeebee1]

It's still stupid. The smart thing to do would be upon stealing his fortune was kill him. He might be poor, but he can still kill her. And if he has little to lose only her ablity to survive sneak attacks from hidden assailants will save her. You don't make lethal enemies and let them live unless you're an idiot.

Besides, staling his money and then killing him would fit with the theme of this thread.

 

[Drawde]

Actually, the OP said to try to keep it funny. Killing him would have taken most of the humor out of the situation. Not to mention, as I said above, I was spoofing the organ thief urban legend, which goes almost exactly as I wrote it, except for the other thefts. How should I have done it while meeting both situations?

 

[kilerog]

Eh, I would have kept the organ theft out of it. It's just not very funny. And yes, I know the organ theft was your original idea but there's a reason first drafts never survive contact with the reader base.