“Hey, did you hear one of the visiting professors died? In class?”

“Wait, what? Who?”

“That visting art prof with the hugeass mutton chops and mustache.”

“What happened?”

“Dunno dude. He put the clay on the throwing wheel like he starts every ceramics class, and then some dude without a nose shot him in the face with a stick.”

Harry Potter.

Why is he a wizard?

He should make pots.

And be very hairy.

Hairy Harry Potter makes pots.

I also think of this most days:

Instead of, "You're a wizard Harry.", I think, "You're a Harry Wizard."

A young man and his wife were both enthralled with the Harry Potter stories, and often had small competitions to see who was the bigger fan. If she was about to unlock their front door, we would wave his hand and yell “Alohomora !” as she turned the key; she had been known to utter “Lumos” as he opened the refrigerator, and would always follow his look at her with “Your Welcome.”

One night, during a very satisfying session in the bedroom, he concluded his performance by yelling out “Expeliarmus!” at that final explosive moment.

Not to be out done, she pulled him close, looked him in the eye and said “Ten points, Gryffindor!”

© 2020 - dustygrein

#jokes #harrpotter #dustygrein2020

You all know the story of Harry Potter and all of his adventures with his pals Ron and Hermione, but have you ever heard of Henry Huffler? No? No. Absolutely not. Why? Because Harry Pouts-a-lot always steals the lime light when Henry Huffler comes onto the scene. Do you remember when Harry and Ron risked life and limb to save Granger from a giant troll in first year? Well guess where Henry Huffler was. Henry Huffler was the Hufflepuff warning Filch of a giant scary monster, and who escorted many a scared first year to their dorms being one scared first year himself, and slick smarty pants knew that there was a girl upset and who ran off to the second floor lavatory and told the hectic professors about it. But was I ever introduced as the hero who helped save Hermione Granger? No, I was written in the description as "a student came running to me saying there was a troll." Any mention of Henry Huffler? Nope.

Then in Second Year, I was one of the very few students who took the time to get to know Ginerva Weasley as Ginny, the meek First-Year who had trouble fitting in. But who did she take notice of? Harry-damn-Potter, the Boy-who-lived-because-his-mum-saved-him-with-deep-magic-the-ancients-used-to-know. And it was right because she wrote in that blasted diary about Harry-who-doesn't-give-a-rat's-bottom Potter, that that blasted thing possesed her in the first place!

Henry Huffler would have given a rat's ass thank you very much! And speaking of rat's ass, I knew that bilgerat Weasley was carrying around smelt funny by Second Year! I tried telling that stubborn Percy to get him checked but that puffed up fish just stuck up his nose and said I knew nothing about it. Excuse me! I myself keep pristine rodents at the Huffler's estate, and know all the mannerisms of a fine familiar when I see it and that rat was far too human to be normal. Sure I had my fair share of intelligent broods, like Mad'am Wessleton. Oh she was such a smart ferret, and could tell you a thing or two about snakes and their speech! Which brings me back to Parseltongue Potter! Yes, I knew he was a Parseltongue! I also knew he'd be bullied terribly if he was found out so I kept my mouth shut like a good Hufflepuff I am, but did he appreciate that sentiment? NO. He had to go out in second year and blow his innocent cover by speaking Parseltongue IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY!

Third-Year I tried again letting Ron know his hand-me-down rat was unatural, but did he listen? NO! He brushed me off moodily saying how he "had a bone to pick with Harry," and couldn't be bothered to spend the time discussing the importance of rodent care with a Hufflepuff! The nerve of that boy! If he would have taken two seconds to talk to me, he wouldn't have landed himself in the hospital FOR HALF THE YEAR!

Oh, but who wants to talk to Henry Huffler, loyal Hufflepuff, and dashing hero when they can talk to Harry Potter, the boy who got Cedric, Pride of Hufflepuff, killed.

Perhaps that was a bit harsh. I was there when he brought him back. The anguish on his face... that moment I knew Harry Potter didn't want any of this. Not the fame. Not the gossip. Not the death that surrounded him. I vowed to myself I'd help him, in any way I could.

Fifth-Year, I knew he was having trouble, what with Dumbledore being investigated and all that. He was angry, morose, and that bat of a woman Umbridge giving us all those punishments. A blood-quill, who in their right mind owns a damned blood-quill! It took everything I had to keep my trap shut so as not to draw attention to myself as I snuck into the DA whenever I could. I was the one who distracted Filch most of the time! That ugly fool knew the terror of Henry Huffler he did! Ha HA!

Sixth-Year I was starting to make a name for myself, I thought. But it didn't meant a thing when Dumbledore died. I had half a mind to seek out Potter and friends to join them wherever they were planning to go. They thought they had been so secretive, sneaking off to those shadowy places to meet, but after all those years, anyone who got up to seeing them off to no good knew those conspiritory glances anywhere, but I just couldn't. Something told me I needed to stay there at Hogwarts during the final mess of things. Seventh-year with Snape as Headmaster was disastrous. Curfew right after final class, cancelation of Quidditch and anything fun. All of us knew that this was killing us, killing the spirits of the young ones. I couldn't bear to keep them so sad, so I made up my mind to start my own kind of secret club. Not so inspiring as the DA Harry started, but something a little more innocent. Oh, Headless Nick must of thought I went barmey the way I shouted at the Hall of Requirement entrance in frustration. I didn't even know it was possible to seal off a magical room permanently!

In my craze I went out in the middle of the night to find some sort of way to the Shrieking Shack to make it livable. By some miracle I was able to find a passage way out of Hogwarts and began decorating the damned place as prettily as I could, but let me tell you, peach paint on petrified wood is terrifying. Instead of making it look like a place of enchantment, I ended up making it look like some kind of clownish looney bin doll house. Oh, I had nightmares alright. It occured to some of the Sixth-Years what I was doing. Ginny, after not speaking to me for years, offered her help in making some a sanctuary, but felt it was best to keep it in the halls of Hogwarts instead of outside, but she felt it necessary to keep the path I had found stable, and I couldn't agree more. We ended up enchanting part of the library to be a bit of a playhouse. To our surprise Madam Pince even helped us, saying how just before the restricted section there was a kind of temporal passage, whatever that meant. All I know is that was probably why Ravenclaws and Granger were able to keep their O's flowing. The library gave you extra time to study!

Oh it was fantastic seeing all those First-Years we snuck in smile in wonder at what Hogwarts was supposed to be. We even recreated their sorting environment with the enchantments we learned in McGonagall's class. Luna was privy to it all, even teaching the small students about creatures her father discovered some time ago, not that I know much about narggles anyway. It was magic. The way it was supposed to be--

The passage ended there. Hermione Granger looked it over once, twice, a third time before coming to realize that was all that was left. Ginny and Luna nodded at her from across the construction littered hallway.

"That was Henry Huffler, alright. A bit of a git, but had a good heart." Said Ginny as she played with the hem of her skirt. Luna hummed to herself, entranced by a memory.

"He never called me "loony Lovegood." I don't recall, anyway. I do remember describing in depth the importance of narggle cleaning every morning, though. Funny, I remember expilcitly telling him that before guiding the First-Years into our little sanctuary. Must have forgotten to clean them then." Ginny laughed a bit at the haughty look Hermione was giving her. Hermione noticing herself, coughed a bit, and shook her head. She learned some time ago it was best to let some things go, as Ron was so fond of telling her. She smiled despite herself regarding Luna with mild exasperation. If she were honest, she was glad Luna hadn't changed much after the war. Goodness knows she did, and not in each aspect for the better.

"Is it still there? The Sanctuary, I mean." Ginny shook her head sadly at Hermione's question.

"After the Battle of Hogwarts, many magical wards and enchanments were broken to make sure returning to the school was safe. Didn't want some nasty Death Eater curse to hurt anymore people than they already did." The Weasley tucked her long hair back across her shoulder, biting her lip with some faraway look in her eyes. "I can't believe it took me so long to talk to the fool again."

"I think Harry would have like him," Hermione with a meekness unlike her stated. "He sounded like someone we all would have liked."

"Neville knew of him. It was because of him that he's still alive. Took a Death Curse right to the chest to protect him. I'm suprised he wasn't sorted into Gryffandor, with that reckless courage about him." Ginny let out a raw laugh, one that was commonly heard these days. It held very little mirth, but neither any bitterness. It was one Hermione had gotten used to hearing, and one she herself was used to giving. Luna only shook her head.

"I think he was sorted perfectly, don't you think, Hermione?" Surprised at her asking, Hermione looked at Luna to be sure it was her talking, she had gotten so used to hearing far off voices lately. After a moment, realizing that Ginny was also expecting an answer, Hermione cleared her throught.

"Yeah, I do. Loyal to Harry Potter in the end. I think I'll keep this if you don't mind Gin. Harry should read it, and I know you can't keep an organized trunk to save you." Ginny scoffed.

"Oy', I can at least keep my undies seperate from my homework. I'm not my brother!"

"Ugh." Hermione cringled her nose in horror. "Don't remind me, Ginerva Weasley, I'm partially glad he decided to not come back for Seventh-Year. It saves me from wondering what other terrible stains are on his sloppy work. Goodness knows what else he could have been doing."

"I would like to take this moment to remind you, dear Hermione, that that is what you're marrying in a few months," chirped Ginny, taking Henry's journal from her hands and opening up to a page she had read several times before. "Henry had a quite a big crush on you, let's see, shall I start with "To My Precious Bucktooth Beauty," in First-Year or..."

Ginny didn't get to finish as Hermione swiped at her hands in ferouscious embarrassment and incredulity. Luna watched, perplexed, and muttered to herself.

"Why didn't she just say, 'Accio, Henry's Journal?'" To her surprise, Luna unwittingly grabbed Henry's journal out of air, having the other two girls whip their heads to her. She saw the gleam in both of their eyes and knew explaining that this was simply a trick of narggles would get her nowhere. She cursed under her breath simply, "oh, I've forgotten to clean my narggles this morning."

Then begun the curious sight of three Hogwarts Heroines running down the littered hallway as though in a terrifying game of tag with laughter genuinly erupting from their bellies all the way through. And it was thanks to that loyal Hufflepuff, through, and through, Henry Huffler, that this day saw joy again.

“Do you know why they call me Bellatrix?” Bellatrix Lestrange asked Ginny, Hermione, and Luna, as they dueled at the battle of Hogwarts.

“No,” Hermione murmured, and she started freaking out about not knowing something.

Bellatrix laughed evily. “Because I trick- ot trix- so many people. Like how I just tricked you... I distracted you all. Avada Kedavra!”