He's not the smartest tool in the shed.
Though he gives this thread all his lulz.

 

First thing that came to mind when I saw Jack Sparrow and Harry Potter in same sentence was Harry stealing the Durmstrang ship and becoming a pirate.

Which could possibly make a good crackshot. Maybe throw in Jack Sparrow's ghost as well.

/random musings.

 

For a oneshot, that would be excellent. Something along the lines of A Black Comedy on a pirate ship would just brighten my day.

 

Now I'm thinking that Harry steal the Durmstrang boat, gloating about how he is on said boat, and then fucking a mermaid.

 

Now I'm thinking he goes on a quest to find out who lives in a pineapple under the sea, and gets into an epic mentor relationship with Davy Jones.

Who then rises from the deep to become the most kickass ghost the wizarding world has ever seen, on the behalf of his tragically ignored-emo-depressed-abused student's behalf.

 

Somehow, Audeamus single-handedly saved this horrible fucking thread.

I've read fics where Harry has taken over Grimmauld Place. Or Hogwarts (including some bullshit where Hogwarts floats, or turns into a castle-dragon. My gut blames Jeconais, but don't quote me on that). Or Azkaban. Or Gringotts. Or the Crown. Or some other unverified property that he inherited from somesuch dead uberwizard. But I swear I've never even thought about taking Durmstrang's ship.

Why has no one done this for lulz?

 

It has been done before, just in a badly written story. Harry uses the ship in the second task.

Harry Potter and the Other Path, one of the first fics I read. Not written well at all, but still has some of the most interesting ideas I've read.

If you can't get through the story, which I couldn't the last time I tried to reread it, then read this part from the end of Ch.40. The main plot twist of the story, and it's still one of the best I've seen.

Spoiler

“Yes?” Harry asked, speech still hurting his throat. “You got something to say?”

“I... I do not know how to begin.” Dumbledore seemed lost, a little lost boy in the woods. “I suppose I should start by telling you how... how incredibly sorry I am. You must believe I never expected that you would do this. But that is no excuse, no excuse at all.”

“What are you saying?”

“I... Let me tell you a story.” Dumbledore licked his lips. “I am sorry but this is the only way I know to tell you. It begins about fifteen years ago, I had just born-witness to a prophecy that gave the only hope for the fall of the dark lord.”

“I know this story.”

“Harry please.” Dumbledore raised his hands. “This is hard enough... Please just let me speak.”

“Alright.”

“I had heard the prophecy, the one you know well. I had determined that it referred to a child all of us in the order knew well. The child of Lilly and James Potter. I knew that the child was our only hope. Even before the prophecy was recorded in the department of mysteries I had already placed the Potter family under the strongest protection I could. Unfortunately I failed, I was betrayed.”

“Sirius Black.”

“Yes. Sirius Black. But his treachery, though it led to the deaths of two of the most brave and honorable people I know, also spelled the end of the dark lord. Voldemort was destroyed. Most of the wizarding world considered him dead. The celebrations... they went on for days... weeks truly. The entire wizarding world breathed again thanks to the sacrifice of Lilly and James Potter and the survival of their son. The boy-who-lived. The boy who showed that Voldemort was not invincible. He was the symbol of triumph, the symbol of hope. But I knew the truth, that Voldemort was not truly dead. I knew that the prophecy was not yet fulfilled and that, when the dark lord would finally rise again, the people would need the boy-who-lived. So I placed him with his mothers blood, with his aunt. The reasons were complex, the blood link provided him protection of a sort but it is unimportant now. I should have known my folly, should have known. It is my fault in so many ways. My fault in every way that matters. I should have watched closer... Because one day, when that boy was six, his aunt had taken both him and his cousin to the shops. Perhaps she was not paying attention or perhaps it was simply an accident, but the boy ran out into the road. A car struck him, terribly fast. I have watched the memories of the crash through others eyes... he flew so far... doctors worked on him, then I had him moved to St Mungos and the healers worked as hard as the could. But the damage... the wounds to his skull... his chest... he passed from this world. Just six years old. My fault. All my fault. His blood on my hands... But I knew it was not over. I knew that Voldemort would still rise, the wizarding world would still need their symbol of hope, their boy-who-lived. Their hero. So I found another boy, of the correct age, in a muggle orphanage. I worked magic to change his appearance, his voice, his memories... his memories I destroyed entirely and replaced with fakes, I even supplemented them with some of my own memories of James Potter to make the boy seem like him. Then I placed him back at Privet Drive, I changed the memories of the aunt... the uncle... the cousin. I sought out everyone who had seen the crash and tore the memories from their skulls, the doctors, the healers... I made it so that it never happened. And then a sat back and watched... I watched my fake grow up. I felt my guilt grow. But it was done, and it could not be undone. My great shame... the lie that makes everything else a lie as well. The truth is that the chosen one has been dead for nine years. You are not him.”

Dumbledore trailed off, he seemed smaller, even weaker, as if letting this great secret out of him had drained him of everything. Harry shook his head. No... No no no...

“No, you‘re lying. You. Are. Lying.”

“I so wish that I was.”

“But I‘m the... I‘m Harry Potter!” He shook his head. “I‘m Harry Potter!”

“No. You are not.”

“I have the scar!”

“I gave you that scar.” Dumbledore had his eyes closed. But even so a tear squeezed out from the side, running down his long nose and dropping to the floor. “I can remove it right now if you wish it.”

“No!” His hands jumped up to his forehead protectively. “You‘re just... you‘re saying these things... WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”

“I am sorry. I am so sorry.” Dumbledore bowed his head. “I cannot say that to you enough. I... I destroyed you.”

“No! I... I cut out my eye!” Harry could feel his blood pumping in his ears. “I‘ve fought! I‘ve fought him all year! I‘m the chosen one!”

“You are not. There is no chosen one.” Dumbledore sounded like a man burning his last shred of hope. “The prophecy died nine years ago. Voldemort won.”

“No. No...” He was shaking, he couldn’t stop. “Lies it‘s just lies!”

“It is not.” Dumbledore shook his head. “If you want proof just look to your friends. You named them the marauders. On your very first day. How did you know that name? You know that James Potter named his group of friends the same?”

“No, he can’t have! It‘s a lie!”

“It is not. You knew the name because I put in in your mind. If you doubt me ask anyone who was at school with them.” Dumbledore was speaking in dead tones now, he had reached the bottom. “I have heard you refer to Professor Snape as Snivellus and to Remus Lupin as Moony. Those were both names James Potter invented. You also knew about Professor Snape‘s dark mark. How else would you know?”

“I... I...” The boy could feel himself shaking, his mind shaking apart.

“It is true. It is all true... I am so sorry. I am so... I cannot begin to think what this must be doing to you. What this has done to you.”

“So... who am I?” The boy looked up. “What‘s my name?”

“I do not know.”

“You found me!” He could hear his shrill voice in his ears. “You dragged me to this life you have to know!”

“I do not Harry I‘m...”

“Harry? Harry?” The boy threw his head back and screamed, a screeching cacophony of anguish. “And don‘t you dare say you‘re sorry! Don‘t you dare!”

“I... I cannot-”

“Get out!” He grabbed his glass of water and threw it with all his strength, tears blurring his eyes. It shattered against the Headmaster‘s shoulder. “Get out! Get out! GET OUT!”

Dumbledore fled the room, holding his arm. As the old wizard crashed through the doors the boy threw himself back against the wall and howled in pain and confusion, tearing at his hair with hands like claws. Tears ran freely down his face from the one real eye he had left.

Sobbing and broken he lay there, until darkness closed in.

 

God damn. You're right about it being terribly written, but that is definitely the most original plot twist I've seen in a long while.

 

The Substitute by BajaB does a much better job.

 

So, has anyone had the desire to write this fantastic tale?

 

Hahaha.

No.

 

No one at all? I was hoping that someone had been writing for this.

 

When did the Joke Thread get moved to Fanfic Discussion?

 

@Sparrow: Fuck off with your story. No one's writing this.

 

Not true. I wrote this awesome one-shot. Not as long as JackSparrows wanted, but I tried to stay as close to his rules as possible.

Harry Jack James Sparrow Potter​

It was a dark and stormy night. Harry was not sorted into Hufflepuff. He was a bit eccentric and insane like Jack Sparrow, but not retarded like Luna. And he did not have a Horcrux in him, because of Basilisk. Harry was wanted by every female in the school (yes, even Slytherins). He knew that he's extremely wanted and played that to his advantage in some situations, but he did not act like a pompous ass like Draco. All was well.

The end.

 

ZOMG THIS NEEDS FANART

​

 

5/5 should be in library.

Post that shit on ffn. I want to see how many reviews it gets.

 

I'm glad you like it!

Please write more!

 

Seriously? JackSparrow, you are such a troll.