What makes Harry Potter a Mary Sue

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all related materials are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Warner Brothers. I am in no way affiliated with JKR, Bloomsbury or Warner Brothers, and use their materials without their permission or knowledge.

"God I am HUNGRY," complained Ron, for the umpteenth time.

They had been sitting at the table, waiting for the sorting of the new first year students for only a few minutes, but Ron had been complaining since even before they had left the train.

In fact, he had started complaining about ten minutes after lunch, and managed to talk about eating so much that Harry now felt his own stomach grumbling in sympathy.

"Why aren't you the size of a gestating Dragon?" Harry asked, pointedly looking at Ron's slender figure. "You eat so much and so often, you should have doubled your weight this summer alone!"

It was true. Ron ate so much that he kept his family perpetually poor.

"It's this spell I have," whispered Ron. "I read it in one of mum's magazines years ago. If you cast it after eating it, stops you from getting fat."

"Wow!" said Harry, genuinely impressed.

Harry was always impressed by magic, even though he had been going to a school for magic for several years now. "I wonder why there are any fat people in the Wizarding world at all, with a spell like that around. You would think everybody would use it to keep slim."

"Well it's a bit messy," said Ron. "I bet most people wouldn't use it because it's too gross for them. I'll tell it to you, but you have to promise not to blab to anyone, not even Hermione, and especially not mum. She'll go mental if she finds out I have been using it."

"I promise!" said Harry, solemnly putting his hand over his heart.

Ron looked around to make sure nobody was listening, and then leaned in close to Harry to whisper in his ear.

"It's Expeliarseus."

Harry sat back in disbelief. "You've been hanging around with Fred and George too much."

"It's true!" said Ron indignantly. "How else do you explain it then eh? You try it yourself later. Just make sure you are sitting down when you do it, and I do mean on the privy."

Harry was about to reiterate his complete scepticism that such a spell existed, when Hermione arrived and squeezed her enormous, bushy head in between them.

"Where have you been then?" asked Ron, batting away mouthfuls of her hair. "You can't have already been to the library."

"No, Ronald, I was just sucking up to the teachers. It's always worth it to get a few good ones in before anybody else," she said, smiling and waving at the head table.

Immediately all of the teachers appeared to be very busy looking somewhere else and completely failed to respond.

"You are such an attention tart," said Harry, from beneath the mantle of her hair that had settled on his head. "Are you sure you're not part Succubus?"

"You're just jealous because they all hate you!" she responded with an annoying tone that made people she had never even met want to A.K. her.

"Auldarse Dementiadoor doesn't hate me," said Harry, looking at the white haired old man dozing in his chair at the centre of the teacher's table.

"He is so far gone he doesn't even know who you are half the time," accused Hermione.

"He does too," cried Ron, leaping to Harry's defence.

He often cried for no reason It was very annoying, especially to Harry.

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does not."

"SHUT UP!" screamed Harry, drawing his wand.

"I am sick of you two carrying on like that all the time. Now just keep your traps shut unless you can stop arguing, or I'll Crucio you both!" he said, waving his wand in their faces.

Surprisingly, they actually listened, and stopped arguing.

Hermione took a book out of her bag, and Ron stared longingly at the empty plate in front of him.

"That's better," said Harry, satisfied for the moment.

Harry noticed the book Hermione was reading was titled "10852 Things You Didn't Know", but the number was steadily decreasing as Hermione read.

Impressive, he thought. Then a different thought occurred to him.

"Hang on, isn't Auldarse dead? I saw Severearse A.K. him last year! He fell off the top of a tower. There was even a painting of him in the office with all the other dead headmasters," Harry said, waving his wand around madly as he spoke.

"He got better," answered Hermione, not looking up from her book, "or he forgot he was dead, or faked it or something. Who cares? And put that wand away Harry, before you take an eye out."

"You know, you are getting a bit twitchy with that wand, mate," said Ron. "You seem to be pulling it out every few seconds lately."

"Well what do you expect?" asked Harry. "After what I have been through, wouldn't you have been practicing the old 'quick draw' too?"

"Wish they would practice being that quick with the food."

Harry sat rubbing the scar on his fore head. It had hurt a lot lately - probably because he was always picking at it. He rested his cheek on the table in front of him.

"Harry, have you ever seen a picture of your scar sideways, like it is now?" asked Ron, looking at Harry with a funny expression.

It looked like he was either trying not to laugh, or had bad wind. It could have been both. With Ron you were never quite sure, but at least he wasn't crying.

"No, why?"

"Mate, it looks like a reversed letter L, and the letter V, slightly offset and sharing a common line. Hey, I think Voldy tagged you!"

Harry sat up quickly and held a hand over his forehead. "It's a lightning bolt you dolt!"

"Sure it is, mate, whatever you say," said Ron, turning away so Harry couldn't see his smirk.

Harry thought about Crucio-ing Ron, and had his wand half way out, but just then the doors from the Entrance Hall opened. Professor McGonagall walked in followed by a long line of scared looking first years.

The first girl in the line immediately caught Harry's attention.

With gorgeous, messy, blonde hair, and startling green eyes, she was incredibly pretty, and seemed familiar somehow. Harry was about to ask Ron if he knew who she was, when a fork of lightning shot from the enchanted ceiling and completely vaporized her.

Immediately Harry drew his wand again and leapt onto the table.

"What in the name of Merlin's pointy beard was that?" he yelled, twisting and turning to see where the next attack would come from.

Instead of erupting in pandemonium at the sudden and violent destruction of a young girl, everybody was watching Harry with various mixtures of disgust, hostility, and outright disbelief. Even the teachers appeared to be more interested in Harry's antics than in the fact one of their students had just been obliterated.

"Harry," said Hermione. "You are making a scene again. Sit down, you overblown attention hog."

"But, she just got nuked!" said Harry.

"Yes, we all saw that, but she was a Mary Sue," Hermione said, as if that explained everything.

Hermione often talked that way, and it was another reason so many people wanted to A.K. her.

Harry stared at her blankly. He had no idea what she was talking about, as usual.

The blank look on Ron's face made it clear that he also had no idea, but everybody expected that.

"Don't you every read anything in the paper besides the comics? Look, just get off of my dinner plate and I'll explain."

Harry sat down. The rest of the first years continued filing in.

Hermione put away her book. "About a week ago, the Ministry approved a new Anti-Mary Sue spell. Dozens of the best wizards gathered together to cast the most powerful spell ever devised. Now whenever a Mary Sue is discovered, it will be instantly destroyed and never talked about again. Understand?"

"Oh, I see," said Harry. "I get it. Just one question though. What's a Mary Sue?"

Hermione groaned in disgust. Ron continued to stare blankly.

"Honestly, Harry," she said, "I don't know how you can live in the Wizarding world for years and still not know anything."

In fact, many people wondered this. Sometimes Harry himself wondered why, after six years of seeing magic performed every school day, he still found pulling a rabbit out of a hat impressive.

"Quit complaining and start explaining, or I'll Crucio that boofhead of yours until you make Lockhart look like a genius in comparison," threatened Harry, taking his wand out yet again.

Ron sat very quite, hoping nobody would ask him any questions that might expose his ignorance.

"Ron, what's a Mary Sue?" asked Harry.

"Er, um. Well it's, er, it's like this you see-" stuttered Ron.

"It's a character that possesses extraordinary skills, strengths and relationships, and usually has some sort of a link to the main character. This person will be smarter than Spock, braver than Hercules, more beautiful than Madonna, and posses a family background so convoluted that it would take an army of genealogists years to verify a tenth of it," said Hermione, without waiting for Ron to finish his sentence.

"I knew that," said Ron angrily. "You always do that! Never give me a chance, do you? It's just like that time you-"

"Shut up, Ron, or I'll Crucio you!" said Harry, stabbing at Ron with his wand.

"What's with you and that Crucio thing anyway, Harry?" asked Ron, rubbing his side where wand had stabbed him. "And who the hell is Spock?"

"That's not the topic here," answered Harry. "I still don't understand. Who was that girl and why did she get killed?"

Hermione moaned again. It was going to be one of those conversations.

"Look, you're the hero right?"

"I suppose so," said Harry, puffing out his chest and looking smugly across to the Ravenclaw table where a few pretty girls were sitting.

One of the girls noticed him looking and gave him The Bird. The rest pointedly ignored him.

"Haven't you ever noticed how many stories there are that introduce a new character who is super-powerful in some way?"

"Can't say I've really noticed that many..."

"Oh come on, Harry. You live with Muggles so I know you get on the internet. The net is full of stories written by fans and there is no way an attention hog like you could keep away from them. You just don't want to admit you surf sites looking for 'ships involving you, Rita and the Giant Squid."

Harry turned a slight shade of red and mumbled something noncommittal.

"What's that? You don't like Rita that much? That's just sick, Harry."

"I like Rita," added Ron, simply for the sake of not getting left out of the conversation for too long.

"Nobody cares what you like, Ronald, you're just a comedy side kick, and all you want to do with the Giant Squid is make a stir fry. Anyway, Harry, half of these stories have this new, 'uber' character that is spectacular in some way or another, usually ends up been related to you, Voldy, Snape, or some other important character, and quite often is instrumental in your victory or defeat. That's a Mary Sue."

"Doesn't sound too bad," said Harry, after a moment's thought. "So why do the whole flashy 'remove from existence thing' then?"

"Well everybody is sick of these characters slumming in and taking the lime light. We work hard to be good at what we do, and they just pop up and put us all to shame."

"Sounds a bit drastic."

"Sounds dafter than a ginger bread house full of hags lighting a fire," added Ron, once again trying to buy into the conversation.

"Oh do shut up, Ronald. It might sound drastic, but just imagine what would happen after the story finished if these super characters were left to roam free? It would only be a matter of time before they took over the whole world. If we don't get rid of them now they will become a massive problem in the future. Better to destroy them now before anybody becomes too attached."

Harry thought about this. It sounded like a load of the stuff Hagrid kept behind his hut and spread on the fire breathing tomatoes every year, but deep down he knew the Mary Sues could be a bigger threat to his universe than Voldemort and all his henchmen. What's worse was that they might end up taking attention away from him.

"Why would anyone create a Mary Sue?" he asked.

"Well, many people do it because they subconsciously put themselves into the story, but they want to be better than the hero. By creating a new character that is better than anyone else, they feel they are living out the fantasy of becoming the perfect person. Other people do it because they need the hero to have access to something he can't possibly have. Sometimes the Mary Sue is there just to save the character when he can't be expected to survive on his own. In short, most Mary Sues are an idealized stand-in for the author."


"Yes, Ronald?"

"If Harry is the Hero-"


"-and I am the Comedy Side-Kick-"

"There can't be much doubt about that."

"-then aren't you really a Mary Sue?"

"What are you babbling about, Ronald?"

"Well, you are better than anybody else, and you have given Harry things he couldn't possibly have found for himself, like the Polyjuice potion and the Basilisk clue, so doesn't that make you a bit of a Mary Sue?"

Hermione was about to deride Ron for the ridiculous suggestion, when she suddenly went very white.

"Oh. My. God," she said.

"Ha!" shouted Ron, whipping out his wand so fast that Harry was impressed.

"DieMary Sueisus!" he screamed, poking her viciously in the eye.

Her scream of pain was cut off as a blinding white bolt of lightning flashed down from the sky and blew her to smithereens.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" screamed Harry, drawing his own wand yet again and pointing it at Ron. "YOU IDIOT! I AM GOING TO CRUCIO YOUR AR-"

"RELAX!" cried Ron, fearfully. "You heard her. Better to destroy them now she said, didn't she?" Ron asked, looking around desperately for support.

Harry stopped. Everybody was nodding and generally didn't seem too concerned at the loss of a fellow student. Several people appeared genuinely pleased at this particular loss, but annoyed at Ron's persistent crying.

At the front of the hall, the sorting ceremony, which had been continuing as if nothing had happened to the first student, had stopped just as McGonagall was about to put the hat onto the greasy black head of a young boy who somehow reminded Harry of both Luscious Badboy and Severearse Snape at the same time.

Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck the boy and he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

This is getting very silly, thought Harry, as he found himself standing on the table with his wand drawn, again.

Apparently the boy had been the last student to be sorted, because food suddenly appeared on the table. Harry's leg was now knee deep in a bowl of kneazle soup that Ron was already drinking through a very long straw.

"Hang on," he said, sitting back down on his seat and squeezing his pants leg out. "A few minutes ago you didn't know anything about Mary Sues..."

"Did too," grunted Ron, through a mouthful of unicorn haunch.

"Shut up. Then next second you knew the spell to cast to make Hermione get zapped."

"Yeah, so?" said Ron, while using an enormous bread stick to stuff quails in his mouth.

"Well how do you explain how you could know the spell, but not know what a Mary Sue was?"

"Plot Hole."


"Plot Hole."

"What, in the name of Gandalf's crystal balls, is a Plot Hole?"

"That's where the author has missed providing a vital reason or excuse for an event, or absence of an event, usually through a lack of foresight, or by forgetting an important fact already established. It's a gap in the storyline that goes against the flow of logic already set-up by the plot."

Not for the first time, Harry felt he might be losing his mind. He grabbed a giant frog sausage, and thought about what Ron had just said. It was by far the longest and most coherent sentence Ron had ever mumbled, even if it did come from behind a roast leg of Hippogriff.

"You mean like all the times we do things by hand when we have magic?"


"Like Lupin wearing torn clothes when he could fix them with magic?"

"That's it."

"Or how everybody buys stuff when they could use magic to make it instead?"

"Exactly, now shut up about it so I can eat in peace."

As Harry silently thought about it some more, he looked across the table to a first year what had sat down across from him after being sorted. He had the unmistakable Weasley read hair and startlingly familiar green eyes…

This time Harry was ready for the bolt of lightning, but Ron spat half an owl across the table.

"Bloody Hell!" coughed Ron. "How bloody many of them are there?"

A well manicured hand appeared on Harry's shoulder and a fine, womanly voice spoke Harry's name, mauling it with a Scottish brogue.

"Harry," said professor McGonagall. "I am afraid we must expel you."


"You see, since you are the Hero of this story-"

"Darn straight I am," said Harry, looking towards the Ravenclaw table again.

"- it appears that one of the definitions of a Mary Sue is based on a comparison to your abilities. Sadly, you are so badly lacking, that every new character is bound to become a Mary Sue when compared to you. So you will have to go."

"Bummer," said Ron, sucking the marrow out of a Centuar's hoof. "Sucks to be you, eh?"

"You too, Mr Weasley."

"What?" bumbled Ron, spitting Flobberworm across the table. "Why?"

"Well I can't be expected to expel Harry and leave you behind can I? Besides, the house elves have been complaining about how much extra food they have to prepare while you are in residence."

"Wait, wait! I have an idea," said Harry, as Hagrid lifted him and Ron bodily from the ground by their heads and carried them towards the door.

"That would be a first," mumbled McGonagall.

"Please?" begged Harry.

Minerva sighed, "All right, Mr Potter, what is it now?"

"Voldemort is a Mary Sue!" yelled Harry at the top of his voice. "Think about it. He is more powerful than Auldarse who is meant to be the best wizard in the world, he is linked to me by my blood, and he obviously has some sort of a relationship with Serverearse. He even knew my parents!"

There was an anguished, far away scream and then a loud crack, and everybody suddenly felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Voldemort was finally dead, again.

"Oh well done, Harry," said Hermione. "I knew you would figure it out!" Then she ran over and kissed him in a most un-brotherly fashion.

"Where the hell did you come from?" asked Ron, taking a huge bite from an armadillo cheese cake he took out of his pocket.

"When Harry destroyed Voldemort, he stopped being the hero of the story, and the Anti-Mary Sue spell was no longer necessary!"

"That makes absolutely no sen-

The phone rang.

I stop typing in annoyance. It completely broke my concentration, just as I was getting to the wind-up. Now how was I going to explain the complex series of events that led to my grand finale?

Bloody phone.

I was so annoyed I picked it up, rather than let the answering machine get it.

"Hello," I just about yell.

"IS THIS THAT BADGER-BEE THE AUTHOR?" screamed back a voice, so loudly it hurt my ears.

"WHO THE HELL IS THIS?" I yell back.


Nothing happens of course.

Then I hear a bit of an argument on the other end of the phone.

I can make out a woman in the back ground saying, "You idiot, that won't work."

I figure somebody is playing a joke on me.

"GO GET STUFFED!" I yell, and hang up.

A second later it rings again; I was waiting for it.

"Hello," I say.

"Hello, I think I have the wrong number. Could you tell me your address please?"

I just hung up.

Suddenly there is a loud crack, and three people are standing in my room; a girl with a massive nest of mousy brown hair that makes her look like she has half a lion sitting on her head, a boy with a funny looking graffiti tag on his forehead, and a red haired boy who is stuffing his mouth with oddly shaped chocolate éclairs.

The tagged one of them draws a stick out of his robes, like a gun fighter in a showdown, and points it at me.

"Crucio!" he yells.

I am writhing on the floor as pain floods my every nerve, and I know I am going to die.

"That's for writing such a silly, meaningless story!" the girl says, with a smart-alek attitude that makes me want to kick her.

"AVADA KEDAVRA," yells the red head, pointing his wand at me and spraying chocolate over half the room.

There's a blinding flash of green light, the pain is gone, and then I see my body lying very still on the floor.

"Wow! That was really impressive, Ron," said the tagged one.

So how can I be writing this?

Plot Hole.

Finite Incantatem