A/N: Hey thanks for starting a new story with me guys, I know all my other stories are work in progresses still, but I couldn't get this funny idea out of my head.

ALL THE OCs YOU SEE AT THE BEGINNING WILL PLAY NO BIG PART OF THE STORY OTHER THAN THE BEGINNING.

I hate stories that have a billion original characters, so don't you worry about a thing, because every little thing, is gonna be alright

If had a classification for satire, this would be under it.

Harry Potter and Peace and Love man

Chapter 1

The Dursleys huddled in the car, each wearing their own face of disgust at the latest revelation. Arabella Figg the catty batty neighbor couldn't take Harry Potter during their trip to London. No one else wanted the five year old rascal who was said to be a trouble maker. Vernon had thrown Harry into the back seat of the car, his face was changing through an assortment of all the beautiful colors in the rainbow. He gruffly told Harry not to make any trouble as they drove off in their shiny red mini-cooper.

Petunia incessantly held Dudley's hand as they walked, leaving Harry trailing behind Vernon's elephant footsteps. Harry didn't mind so much because he could stop to look at every hat shop. His excitement grew as they neared a little city park, yet when he arrived the only thing he felt was confusion. Men and women garbed multicolored outfits and loose pants stretched awkwardly in the grass. He heard his Aunt whisper to Dudley something about "not looking at the freak circus," but when he heard that word he knew that he just had to be with them.

Petunia had always said both him and his parents were freaks- perhaps these were the people she was referring to. He came to a full stop. The Dursleys were so concentrated on not looking at the freaks and running forward to pass by the park that they left Harry behind to gape open his mouth at the people.

He hardly realized his mouth was open. They had a boombox playing different music he hadn't even heard on the radio. Some were only sitting cross legged on the ground. their faces turned upwards and eyes closed. Others were just lying down, rocking back and forth to the music.

He was drawn towards them, his legs moving automatically. Maybe he would find his parents- no. He was seven years old now, he had to be realistic. His parents were gone, but maybe these were his people. He noticed many of them weren't wearing shoes, their bare toes were enjoying the coolness of the grass. In order to fit in, he took off Dudley's old shoes and set them in a corner, neatly behind the tree.

When he got to the gathering, the people stretching noticed him first.

"Are you lost little man?" asked a man nearby- he had a light accent and huge dreads trailing all the way down his back. His clothes were hardly distinguishable from the rest, but he wore what looked like a ton of beaded bracelets on his arm.

He looked around for the Dursleys, and when he saw they were all gone- he shook his head. He knew that the first thing he had to say. It had to make an impression. He needed to be calm, collected. This was his only chance at getting to know his parents. "I'm hear to join the freak circus," he said confidently.

Almost all of the stretchers stopped what they were doing, the ones who had their eyes closed had half opened their lids to spy on the speaker.

A grin appeared over the man's face, "A freak circus, eh?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied nervously, slowly fidgeting on the spot.

"Who asked you to ask us that, little man?" the man knelt down to look Harry in the eyes.

Harry broke eye contact to look at the ground, "No one sir, my Aunt Petunia said you guys were a freak circus and I wanted to join you guys."

He said something wrong didn't he? He supposed most people didn't want to be called a freak. He had really been hoping that it was a word to describe a specific group of people, like these.

"Next time you see your Aunt Petunia, you can tell her we may be freaks, but we at least we stand for what's right and what believe in." The man looked confident and strong. His skin shone like obsidian when he stood, the sun shone behind him as if he were a god. It was everything Harry wanted to be.

Harry's eyes lightened up, knowing the man had already forgiven him, "Can you tell me about what you believe in?"

"Slow down there little man, I don't even know your name," he smiled again.

As it turned out, the man's name was Kagiso Lesedi and he came all the way from Africa. He had trekked all the way up through the Saharah Desert to get to Egypt, where he took a row boat to row all the way to Europe. Harry was astonished at the man's power. Kagiso, or Ka as his friends like to call him for short, flexed his muscles for all of them to 'ooh' and 'ahh.' All of Ka's friends introduced themselves and most of them had normal names like "Patrick Williams, Rex Dover, Lyanna Clare, Diana O'Neil," and he lost track after over ten people introduced themselves.

Everyone mussed Harry's hair as they talked to them. Before long, Harry was doing the weird stretching with them. He found out it was called yoga. He remembered hearing his Aunt Petunia talking about doing yoga with her friends, and wondered if she knew the circus freaks also did yoga. He knew she would stop if she found out.

When the afternoon sun started coming down, Harry was pleased to be sitting comfortably after stretching all of his muscles with yoga practichioning. They were doing something called "guided meditation." Harry forgot the name of the man who was speaking, but he was doing some imagination games where he would imagine that in fact, they were not right next to a busy London street. They would also imagine that the smell of gas was really the fresh breeze of air from the sea. Although it didn't work too well, Harry was still content to sit and feel entirely at ease.

He knew he was with his people.

Before evening fell, the lady who had been next to him put her hand on his and asked him politely where his parents were.

"They're dead," he replied.

She stilled, then nodded understandingly, "You said you were with your aunt?"

"Yeah, my Aunt Petunia. I don't know where she is though,"

"Can you tell us where you live?" asked a man who had his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Number four Private Drive, it's in Surrey," Harry responded.

The adults around him glanced at each other in understanding.

"Had I known his guardians didn't know where he was..." he overheard. Again, Harry had done something wrong. He felt his eyes start to fill with tears, but he wiped his eyes with his sleeves. He felt like he finally had friends and now they were going to take him back to his aunt and uncle.

The whole group wearing baggy colorful clothing walked him together all the way to the police station to wait. They all spoke among each other, while someone talked to the policemen there.

"We aren't comfortable to leave until this boy finds his guardians," said the lady talking to the police. All of the group nodded and took various seats around the place.

"Why are were crying little man?" asked Ka worriedly.

"You guys are the first friends I've had. I don't want to go," Harry responded sadly.

"We will always come to visit you," he replied earnestly, taking off one of his many beaded bracelets. He gave the bracelet to Harry who clutched at the little wooden beads and started sobbing into Ka's shoulder.

Ka rubbed his shoulders comfortingly, and mussed up his hair again. After wiping tears and snot off his face, Harry noticed that they started playing music again. This time, though, he recognized the voice from the radio.

"You do not have to worry about your parents. They are up in heaven with John Lennon and Bob Marley. It is very cheerful there. The music will take care of them," Ka said happily. Harry heard the voice of long gone Bob Marley come out of the speakers, and somehow he knew it was true.

They happily spoke with each other, and Harry realized that these people were not called freak circus, but hippies. And they were very happy to share that information with Harry. The hippies spoke of peace, love, and friendship.

The Dursleys arrived at the police station when it had already grown dark. They huddled in a group staring warily at the hippies, and Harry who was nestled between their arms, fast asleep.

Vernon growled, "Boy, come along now."

Harry's eyes opened again, knowing that voice all to well. As Uncle Vernon uncomfortably put his hand on Harry's shoulder, steering them out of the police station, Harry glanced behind him to wave bye to his new friends.

They all chorused, "Bye Harry."

Age 11

Harry was a different boy from when he was only seven. The biggest change was that he had dreadlocks. Petunia had attempted to cut off the "disgusting ratchet dirty things," but Harry took good care of them and every time they were cut off, they came back bigger and better. All it did was encourage Harry to continue believing that going natural was the best way.

Obviously he got time in the cupboard for it, but Harry had learned to meditate himself. He even had his own favorite image was where he sat in the meadow with a forest around him. He had never been to a meadow but he was positive the one in his head was realistic. Petunia had made him garden more, but it only encouraged him to play in the dirt. He loved tending the plants and making little life grow. It was like he was growing as a person. He read many books in the library about spending time outdoors instead of playing video games like what Dudley did all day.

He disliked cooking and cleaning more, because he preferred to spend time outside in the sun, even in hot summers. Meditation became a constant activity for his cupboard locked times. He was lucky Petunia hated the outdoors, so Harry got to spend all the time he wanted outside.

Then he learned to sew. Thanks to all the time he got in the cupboard for continuously growing back his dreadlocks, being put down by teachers for even growing them, he was able to turn Dudley's colorful assortment of rags into rainbow baggy clothing. Petunia was horrified when she saw Harry marching through the house in colorful clothing. She had tried dying them all black, but it had only succeeded in bringing out the color.

Luckily, Harry wasn't blamed for that.

She couldn't even stop him from wearing it.

"You only see the freak circus once and you're already like them?" she screeched.

"Aunt Petunia, I thought you said I was a freak just like them," he cried out. Although his feelings were hurt, he had slowly come to the realization that Aunt Petunia just didn't want him to belong. But nothing stopped him from wearing the clothes he loved.

That's when she knew she had lost him to the other freaks. Not even the right kind. She just knew that he had this delusion that when she said freak she meant hippie, and the word no longer insulted him. Yet she couldn't think of anything else that represented exactly what her sister was, so he continued being called a freak.

The words had all lost meaning to Harry.

Aunt Petunia let him go to Hogwarts, no longer caring for keeping the boy away from a magic. There was no chance of the boy being normal even though he was already a freak. She threw him his letter, telling Vernon this was the best way to keep the hippie out of their house.

Vernon couldn't agree more. They were done with normal freaks and real freaks and freaks of all that sort.

"Your parents were magic, Harry," Petunia slowly explained while Vernon and Dudley were out of the house.

Harry looked at her uncomprehendingly, "You mean like, magically in touch with nature?"

She sighed again, "No, they were a witch and wizard. They performed magic, at this school here."

Harry opened the letter from Hogwarts where it listed all of the items needed.

"How do I get these?"

Petunia lost her temper already, probably because Harry had tied a bandana saying "peace" around his forehead. "I've been trying to tell you your parents were freaks! Like witches and wizards and all of THEIR SORT! NOT THESE HIPPIES YOU-"

She took a deep breath, remembering neighbors could hear if she yelled too loudly.

"Magic, woah," said Harry his eyes widened, "you mean to say my parents weren't hippies?"

She glared at him.

Maybe they still were hippies, maybe they weren't. But Harry had grown beyond just wearing the hippie garb for his parents. He was already learning to become one with nature. Maybe magic would bring him closer to the Earth and the universe.

They wrote a letter together responding they would need someone to take Harry to the magical world, and gave it to one of the owls sitting outside.

Diagon Alley: Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions

Harry didn't ask many questions to the giant man (whose name he also forgot) who led him through the shops. He was busier looking at the shops, but he supposed he might regret it later. When they arrived at Madam Malkin's to get dressed, he was concerned about the lack of color in uniforms.

"How do we express ourselves, Madam, if we cannot have the art of clothing? Why wear clothes at all? We are witches and wizards aren't we? We can keep ourselves warm with just magic!" Harry said with conviction.

Madam Malkin was unsure of how to respond, her mouth was slightly agape. The boy who was dressing in the stool next to him was also looking at Harry like he was an alien.

"But that's..." the boy tried to say, but his mouth wouldn't respond to him.

"What, don't you agree? I just wear clothes to keep my body warm, but they're very primitive if we can just walk around naturally," replied Harry convincingly.

"Y-you're going to Hogwarts too?" the boy managed to get out.

"Yeah," Harry smiled, holding out his hand, "Name is Harry."

The boy's eyebrows jumped at the lack of a surname, but he replied in a small voice, afraid to touch the hand of a dirty heathen- "Draco."

"Madam, think I can make my shirt colorful at least? I do love clothes but if I can't have any small amount of expression I don't think this school is right for me,"

"Well, Hogwarts doesn't really quite have a rule against... colorful undershirts but..."

"Also, could you make my robes from excess cloth? I don't like to waste."

"With magic there is no excess cloth," replied the Madam thankfully, unsure of how to handle such a customer.

Harry settled with black robes, but his button down was happily tie died in different patterns.

When Draco left the shop he was freaking out so much he couldn't tell his parents about the boy who wanted to walk around naked.