This fanfic was inspired by some fic I read waaaaaaaay back like 5 years ago which got deleted. This is the most profane fic I've ever written and I gotta admit it was rather fun. Many thanks to Christian Bale for being a living inspiration to us all.
"It's not fair!" cried Harry who was standing in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore himself was seated, watching Harry intently.
"Please Harry just take a seat," said Dumbledore.
Harry however was in no mood to comply. He was so full of anger and sadness that he couldn't think straight.
"Why did you let Sirius die?" Harry yelled. "Why?"
"I have made mistakes Harry," replied Dumbledore. "I am growing old. I'm sorry I couldn't help more."
Harry continued to pace around the office, breathing heavily.
"Please Harry take a seat, I've got a lot to explain," said Dumbledore.
"I don't care about what you have to say!"
"Harry please calm down, everything will be made clear in a moment."
Harry ignored him and picked up one Dumbledore's silver contraptions and threw it across the room where it landed unharmed.
"Harry I would appreciate if you left my possessions as they are and sit down."
In response, Harry picked up a jar of something and threw that against the wall which shattered into a hundred pieces.
"Harry, stop doing that and sit down," said Dumbledore looking slightly agitated.
Harry, defiant, picked up another silver device and threw it hard against the ground. It broke in half.
"You little shithead you know how much that cost?" said Dumbledore getting up abruptly
Harry abruptly stopped what he was doing and stood stunned.
"What made you think you could come into my office and start throwing my stuff around asshole?"
"Um sorry," said Harry weakly.
"No don't be sorry, think for one fucking second!" said Dumbledore getting mad. "Do I go to your room and trash your stuff? Do I go and throw all your personal fucking possessions around? Ahdadadada like that in the background, what the fuck is it with you?"
"Sir..."
Dumbledore was on a roll however.
"...Oh yeah it's fuckin distracting, walkin around behind bryce in the middle of the fucking scene! Gimme your fuckin answer?"
"What?"
"Never mind that asshole, tell me, do I go to your house and throw your stuff around huh?"
"No sir."
"You don't fucking go into people's offices and start throwing their stuff around just 'cause you can't control your goddamned emotions you little shit, there might be a small possibility they'll care if you break it!"
"Sir I was just feeling angry..."
"Oh like hell you were feeling angry, just what did my stuff have to do with it huh? You don't break my shit just because you feel like it, that's not how the real world fucking works! Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir."
"Do you fucking understand me? You know how much that thing cost? Do you?"
"Um no..."
"Take a guess!"
"Sir I don't know."
"Fifteen thousand fucking American dollars! You know how much that is in galleons?"
"No sir."
"Well then take out your fuckin' iphone and find out, I know all you punks have them!"
"Sir electronic devices don't work..."
"Ah, they don't work, of course they don't fuckin' work you dumb shit," interrupted Dumbledore. "You know how hard it's gonna be to get another one of those huh?"
"Another one of those what?"
"Another one of those goddamned things you broke you unbelievable retard! You know the crap I had to go through to get that?"
"Sir I obviously don't know the answers to all these questions."
"Oh goooood for you, you goddamned genius! " said Dumbledore patronizingly. "You don't know the answer to my questions!"
"Sir I'll get you another if you want..."
"Oh no, you don't just find these at the supermarket, I had to go to fucking Argentine...Argentinia...argh what's the fuckin' place called?"
"Argentina?" suggested Harry.
"Yeah that's the one," said Dumbledore who was starting to calm down a little. "It's a long ass broom ride there, I don't suppose you're going to go all the way there now huh? Oh nooooo you're too busy saving the world right? It doesn't matter if someone's valuables get broken in one of your temper tantrums, you're the hero!"
"Sir I'll go if you want me to..."
"Are you a fucking idiot?" said Dumbledore flaring up again. "Don't you not understand what I'm trying to say?"
"No sir I don't."
"What don't you get about it?" screamed Dumbledore even louder.
"I mean the big deal about...look I'm sorry and..."
"You don't fuckin' understand do you? I try to help you, I try to comfort you and you start throwing my stuff around, stuff that costs money and not all of us got fuckin fortunes lying in our bank accounts by the way!"
"Sir my godfather just died."
"Oh your godfather died boo hoo hoo. The student I found became you-know-who, death eaters are constantly trying to kill me, my life insurance agency scammed me and my gay lover killed my sister! There, I said it I'm gay! All those fucking years I've been trying to hide it gone to waste! Those ministry assholes must be listening to this! Fuckers don't leave me alone. Now just because I'm gay you know how many fucked up fanfics involving my brother and electrified mechanical goats being shoved up my ass are going to published? Do you?"
Harry was silent.
"DO YOU?"
"...Seventeen?"
"NOT EVEN FUCKING CLOSE!"
Dumbledore fumed silently after his final outburst.
"Can we just stop this please sir," said Harry after a little while.
"Yes of course, of course," said Dumbledore who had suddenly become calm again. Unsteadily, he sat down.
"Anyways, onto business," he said, his voice very formal. "Harry, I'm sorry to say this, but you are fired."
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "What am I fired from?"
"The show of course," replied Dumbledore. "Oh yes I need to tell you, your whole life's been a lie, magic doesn't really exist, and we've been filming everything you've been doing for a reality show."
Harry stared at him blankly.
"This is a joke right?"
"Oh no my dear boy, I'm perfectly serious."
"What, so are my parents still alive?"
"Oh far from it. You see while this magical world may not be real, the actual world is quite different from what you imagine. We live in a post-apocalyptic nightmare. Why'd you think we could turn an orphan's life into a reality show? Your parent's were killed by Zombie Hitler brought back to life by the evil scientist Lumbargh who may be either German or Canadian."
"Sir, are you alright?"
"Oh I'm fine, just fine other than the fact that my beloved orscioproctor is lying in a broken heap-" he clenched his fists "-but no I'm perfectly fine with that. I'm more than fine. In fact, I'm your father. Also, I'm Jesus."
"Sir you just said I'm an orphan."
"That's why you have to read the fine print."
"So, who's Voldemort then? He's just another actor?"
"Oh yes obviously. He's um...Charlie Sheen! You know, always winning!" Dumbledore smiled weakly.
"Sir, you're not making any sense at all.
"Of course not, of course I'm not making sense so maybe you'd know how it feels when some dipshit comes my office and starts throwing my stuff around the room."
"Really sir? You're still going on about that? I'll try to fix it."
"Don't bother," said Dumbledore who waved his wand, resulting in the room returning exactly to its original state.
"Whatever, I'm going to bed now ," said Dumbledore getting up.
"Weren't you going to tell me about some prophecies or something?"
"Ask your mother about it," he said and left the room.
