I submitted an ask recently about finding a good site for sue-hunting. With that answer, I looked on Quotev under Harry Potter, because apparently I hate myself and want to see one of my favorite series ruined by Mary Sues. This is my first attempt at a review, so here goes.
Hello, I’m Claudia. I’m 13 years old, and have long, curly, strawberry blonde hair and dark green eyes. According to people at school, I look a lot like my mum, but I don’t know my parents. They died when I was 1.
Oh no…this sounds suspiciously similar to the backstory of a certain main character…
Me and My Brother, Harry, are the twins that lived.
We’ve got a canon sibling! Good job taking away the one thing that made Harry unique and central to the plot of the story.
Thank you so much for slating the first story I ever wrote. Love, the Author.
"Don’t cry, Ginny. We’ll send you loads of owls."
"We’ll send you a Hogwarts Toilet Seat!" - Gred and Forge Weasley.
"I believe misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat." - Albus Dumbledore.
"Oh, are you a prefect Percy? You should have said something we had no idea."
“Hang on I think I remember him saying something about it, Once…”
I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.”
His pupils contract to pinpoints, dialate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs.
"Then suddenly, as I was suggesting I take over the daily snare run, he took my face in his hands and kissed me."
“Maybe I’ll be like the man in the Hanging Tree still waiting for an answer.” said Gale, who I have never seen cry, has tears in his eyes. To keep them from spilling over. I reach forward and press my lips against his. We taste of heat, ashes and misery.”
"Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable."
#The moment we had waited for through all seven books.
#LOOK AT BILL’S FACE IT’S SO WTF
THE FEELS, THEY’RE SO PAINFUL!
"I dreamed I was buying new shoes last night," said Ron. "What d’ya think that’s gonna mean?"
"Probably that you’re going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something," said Harry.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours’ time by Mrs. Dursley’s scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley…He couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: “To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!”