Harry Potter and the Sparkly Undead
Harry Potter brushed at his unkempt bangs to attempt covering the lightning-bolt scar branded on his forehead. Even though he was with his two best friends, sometimes it just unnerved him that anyone could pass by and stare at him like he was a mutated troll. Sometimes he wished there were others who would draw the attention away from his abnormality…
“Harry!” Hermione glared at him from the opposite side of the little area of the courtyard they had designated as part of their study session. “Weren’t you paying any attention to what I was saying about medieval wizards in the 1100s?”
“Sorry, Hermione. I was thinking about something else.”
“Merlin’s Beard, you’re almost as bad as Ron!” She gestured at Ron, writing down somewhat-relevant nonsense on his parchment about how trolls won the Goblin War. That was silly, of course: that was the centaurs (although it was really the Armenian wizards, but Harry could care less).
“Hermione,” grunted Ron, “would it be correct to say that house-elves rode on thestrals to catch the goblins off-guard so that the trolls could win the war?” Hermione put her head in her hands and moaned.
“Let me do it.” She swiped the half-written parchment from Ron and started scribbling furiously at all the mistakes and rewriting the composition. Harry sighed, wishing he could just wave his wand and say “Accio Distraction” so he could take his mind off the homework and how he suddenly felt self-conscious about his scar.
Suddenly, three figures walked into the castle courtyard. One of the three had a deep tan with a bunch of abdominal muscles protruding from his stomach-area. The reason it was so boldly accented on this boy’s skin was because he wasn’t wearing a shirt, even though it was of the coldest days of fall so far. The second figure was a girl who looked like she was in her seventh or eighth year if she attended Hogwarts. She stood there, looking disinterested at the amazing views of wherever-Hogwarts-was-located, not seeming to loosen her grasp on the shirt of the third figure, who looked a lot like…
“CEDRIC!” Causing Hermione and Ron to jump about a foot in the air, Harry ran towards the figure of his deceased Tri-Wizard Tournament ally. It was as if he never was hit with the Avada Kedavra spell. “Cedric, h-how did you survive? I saw your soul in the graveyard that night. H-h-how di-di-di…” Harry was at a loss for words.
Cedric just looked at Harry with a slightly annoyed glance. “I’m not Cedric. I’ve never known anyone named Cedric.” The girl seemed to grip his shirt tighter in a death grip. “My name’s Edward.”
“Harry! What was all that? You scared the living day…” Ron stopped running towards Harry and stared at the Cedric lookalike. “Cedric Diggory, is that you? Blimey… How can you be alive when I saw your body that night Harry won the Tournament?” Even Hermione seemed to make no sense of this.
“I don’t know any of you. My name is Edward Cullen. This is Bella,” He gestured at the girl, “and this is Jacob.”
“I don’t get it.” pondered Hermione. “If you aren’t Cedric, but you look a lot like him, then what are you?” Each of the three wizards’ hands instinctively hovered over where their wands rested inside their cloaks.
“I’m a vampire.”
“Wow! I’ve never seen a vampire up close!” Ron glanced up and down Edward’s physique. The girl --Bella, Harry remembered—tugged on his sleeve.
“Edward, I want to go back to Forks”
“Yeah, and there are no fangirls that can look at my twenty-pack.” Jacob stroked his abs the way Hermione would stroke Crookshanks.
“Wait, did you say…fangirls?” Hermione cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” Bella sighed, looking disinterested. “We’ve got a huge fanbase of girls who want to be like me. I don’t see why…”
“That’s strange, because we’ve also got a big fanbase.” Harry said, eyeing the three strangers. They can’t possibly have a larger fanbase than us.
“Yeah, um… we have a lot more fans than you do…” Bella sighed.
“That’s impossible.” Harry laughed jovially.
“Actually…” Hermione handed a large book to Harry. “We both have an equal amount of fans between the both of us. Apparently, their fanbase is called ‘Twilight’-can’t imagine why- and we’re called by your name, Harry.” She sighed. “I hate Muggle customs.”
“You know, I’m not completely comfortable with this. I want to see who can come out on top.” Ron whipped out his wand. “Fandom battle! If me, Harry, and Hermione win, we have the full right to give you the Avada Kedavra. If you win…”
“I’ll suck your blood dry and toss you over the bridge.” Edward supplied. Ron contemplated that option for a minute.
Hermione slapped Ron in the face with all the power she could muster. “RON! WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE DEATHLY HALLOWS ARE YOU DOING?!”
“It’s a deal.” Jacob stared Ron down, seeming to grow while Ron seemed to shrink. “On the opening week-end of ‘Breaking Dawn: Part 2’, we made $340.9 million.”
Hermione consulted her tome of knowledge. “Big deal; we made $168 million on our opening weekend.”
“We had fewer books than you guys.” Bella groaned.
“Well, we had time to draw out the friendships and family connections while you ‘people’ had four books of weird decisions and a crazy government of supernatural creatures.” Harry and Hermione stared at him weirdly. “What?” Ron shrugged. “My dad’s into Muggle artifacts.”
Jacob flexed his abs. “I’m incredibly hot and have great sex-appeal.”
“I’m hot all by myself with my nerd-appeal, because I’m Harry Potter.” He raised his wand and blast green light at Jacob. He exploded into thousands of flesh and some fur. He stared at Edward, who grabbed Bella and ran away as fast as a vampire could.