Papa Smurf - the maker of every goodest boy out there
He’s sturdy, upright, noble, and is very clear about his favorite color. He wags his big fucking tail very often and it’s been the cause of property damage in the past, but he always pitches in to fix things.
He tries to be a tie-breaker between his brothers but it works an unsurprising 10% of the time because he’s no Horus
I highly recommend a reread because Harry is freaking hilarious. I mean, not always obviously, but he certainly has his moments. He has a very dry sort of humor and I just love that. Also, I trimmed it down, but sorry if it’s a bit long:
“They stuff people’s heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall,” he told Harry. “What to come upstairs and practice?” “No thanks,” said Harry, “The poor toilet’s never had anything as horrible as your head down it – it might be sick.”
The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water. “What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said, “I didn’t realize it had to be so wet.”
At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. “I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”
“You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?” she snapped. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on?” “The floor?” Harry suggested.
“Professor McGonagall told me about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?” “A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir,” said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy’s face. “And it’s really thanks to Malfoy here that I’ve got it.”
“I know what day it is,” Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.” “Well done,” said Harry. “So you’ve finally learned the days of the week.”
“Why’re you staring at the hedge?” he said suspiciously. “I’m trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire,” said Harry.
He rolled down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry’s window. “See you next summer!” Harry yelled.
“There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors – someone said you’d been expelled for crashing a flying car!” “Well we haven’t been expelled,” Harry assured her.
“Oh no, not you,” he moaned. “Doesn’t know what he’s saying,” said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. “Not to worry, Harry, I’m about to fix your am.” “No!” said Harry. “I’ll keep it like this thanks…”
Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. “Just do what I did, Harry!” “What, drop my wand?”
“Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?” asked Harry, while Ron sniggered. Hermione ignored them.
They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over. “Right,” said Ron as they both opened their books at pages five and six. “What can you see in mine?” “A load of soggy brown stuff,” said Harry.
“That means you’re going to have ‘trials and suffering’ – sorry about that – but there’s a thing that could be the sun. Hang on… that means ‘great happiness’ … so you’re going to suffer but be very happy…”
“When you’ve all finished deciding whether I’m going to die or not!”
“It was your head, Potter. Floating in midair.” There was a long silence. “Maybe he’d better go to Madam Pomfrey,” said Harry. “If he’s seeing things like – “
“Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?” … The bell was due to ring any moment, and Harry and Ron, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George’s fake wands at the back of the class, looked up, Ron holding a tin parrot and Harry, a rubber haddock.
“I’ll wait for you, Harry, shall I?” “No, it’s okay, Mr. Bagman,” said Harry, suppressing a smile, “I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks.”
“Listening to the news! Again?” “Well, it changes every day, you see,” said Harry.
“Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that’s been taught to walk on its hind legs? ‘Cause that’s not cheek, Dud, that’s true…”
“I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry -” “They won’t.” “That you’re safe -” “That’ll just depress them.” “- and that you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?”
“You’re Harry Potter,” she added. “I know I am,” said Harry.
“You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.” “Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.”
“We shouldn’t have taken the stupid subject in the first place,” said Harry.“ “Still, at least we can give it up now.” “Yeah,” said Harry. “No more pretending we care what happens when Jupiter and Uranus get too friendly…”
“You’re dead, Potter.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Funny,” he said, “you’d think I’d have stopped walking around.”
“I wouldn’t go in the kitchen just now,” she warned him. “There’s a lot of Phlegm around.” “I’ll be careful not to slip in it,” Harry smiled.
“Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?” “Yes,” said Harry stiffly. “Yes, sir.” “There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.”
“No,” said Harry. “No, I suppose that’s true. But wasn’t that dishonest, Hermione? I mean, you’re a prefect, aren’t you?” “Oh, be quiet,” she snapped, as he smirked.
“My whole family are blood traitors! That’s as bad as Muggle-borns to Death Eaters!” “And they’d love to have me,” said Harry sarcastically “We’d be best pals if they didn’t keep trying to do me in.”
“She’ll ban you from the library if you’re not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?” “It’s not my fault she’s barking mad, Hermione. Or d'you think she overheard you being rude about Filch? I’ve always thought there was something going on between them…”
“Nice,” he said. “Classy. You should definitely wear it in front of Fred and George.” “If you tell them,” said Ron, shoving the necklace out of sight under his pillow, “I - I - I’ll -” “Stutter at me?” said Harry, grinning. “Come on, would I?”
“Promise me you’ll look after yourself…. Stay out of trouble….” “I always do, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry. “I like the quiet life, you know me.”
“I told her it’s a Hungarian Horntail,” said Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. “Much more macho.” “Thanks,” said Harry, grinning. “And what did you tell her Ron’s got?” “A Pygmy Puff, but I didn’t say where.”
“Six years ter the day since we met, Harry, d'yeh remember it?” “Vaguely,” said Harry, grinning up at him. “Didn’t you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig’s tail, and tell me I was a wizard?”
