Disclaimer: I don't own the movie "To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar" nor any of the wonderful charactors or actors. I don't own Harry Potter for that right is belonged, exclusively, by JK Rowling. All I own are my own ideas (hehe, get it?)

Warning: This includes Cross-dressing, Drag, some Chan and OOCness of some of our fonder characters. Remember kiddies, its called a "fanfiction" for a reason.

'Thoughts'

Vida Boheme: Your approval is not needed.

Noxeema Jackson: Approval neither desired nor required.

Approval is such a simple word, when you truly look at it. When not placed prettily on cards or thrown half-hazardly around the media it's such an easy word to comprehend but such a strong feeling. It's like compassion, acceptance, sorrow, apology,

Love.

All of these are actually, in small portions, part of Approval. Approval is why Ms. Boheme came to be from her non-to-humble abode. Approval is why Ms. Jackson tries desparately to seem that she neither wants it nor needs it but graciously accepts it from Ms. Boheme. Approval is something a small little boy that neither of these women know, yet!, craves desparately for from his family.

Approval succeeds disgust

Harry Potter was not having the good day he thought he would be having. He thought that being out of the country would mean that maybe, just maybe, his family would treat him differently. Just to keep up appearances at least! But of course, his hopes came crashing around his frail tiny body.

~24 Hours Prior~

"Vernon! Oh Vernon is it really true?"

"You bet it is Pet! Grunnings wants to send yours truly to New York to broker a deal! They're even paying round-trip fare for the entire family!" His Aunt Petunia was beginning to bounce excitedly and press wet smacking kisses all along Uncle Vernon's giant meaty face.

"It'll be just like a vacation! I hear that New York has so many shopping centers, and the theater! Vernon we must go to a show while we're there! I know for a fact the Lucy has been trying to spread that I'm not 'cultured' because I haven't seen a show in London. Just think what'd she'd say if she knew I not only saw one, but in a completely different country!" Her normally narrow eyes were wide in a dreamy state visualization the embarrassment of another while her husband chuckled finding her adorable.

"Of course Pet, only the best for you. And Dudley of course! Why I've heard that they've got one of the largest toy stores in the States there!" Their greedy obese child suddenly perked up from his place right in front of the television hearing the word "toys."

"Toys? What toys? Are you getting me toys? I want them now!" the last part was beated onto the coffee table with an abnormaly heavy fist for a five year old causing his father to chuckle with pride.

"Dont' worry Dudley m'boy! When we leave and I get that deal, we'll buy you so many toys you'll have a new one for nearly every day of the year!" this thought made the piggy child's eyes widen as far as they could go...not that far but it was a stretch.

"Every day? That's like...like...a thousand days!" His parents tittered and coo'ed at their son for his smart thinking while Harry responded to the unanswered question in his cupboard. Unfortunately, he was heard by his Uncle who turned like a hunter on it's prey as soon as the words left his mouth.

"What was that freak? Did anyone ask you anything?" He began banging on the door frightening the smaller child and making his curl into his protective ball on his mattress.

"N-n-no U-uncle Vernon! I-It's just Dudley was w-wondering how may days were in a y-year and I..it's just...three hundred..." his words dried like water in a desert as he saw the glare in his uncle's eyes even through the slits of his cupboard door.

"So you were trying to correct my perfect Dudley boy? You can't even spell your own damned name so how could you ever begin to know what my son knows?" Poor Harry was shaking trying not to admit to reading through his cousin's destroyed books in the extra room upstairs when everyone was out the house.

"N-no S-s-sir!"

"Damn right you aren't! Freak!" he added the last with an extra BANG! cascading dust upon his nephew began to grin maliciously when he heard the wheezing and coughing begin, hoping each breath was his last. He looked back over at his perfect family quiet throughout the entire ordeal to see a frown on his wife's face.

"What's the matter Pet?" he asked.

"You yelling at it made me wonder what we're going to do once we leave." she said not even able to refer to her flesh and blood as an actual human. Vernon frowned obviously never thinking of "it" as a problem.

"What do you mean? We've got Mrs. Fig just down the street!" Petunia began to shake her head her tight blonde curls not moving in the least.

"Don't you remember? She fell down her stairs and broke a bloody hip. The hospital is keeping her there to make sure the replacement is working correctly." this caused her husband's mustach to bristle in annoyance.

"Well, what of that friend of yours...Yvonne or what not."

"Can't. She's on her second honey moon."

"We can't leave it with Marge she can barely stand it!" this comment gave such relief to Harry, always hating his uncle's sister and her horrible biting dogs.

"Well I'm not leaving it in the house! Not only would someone eventually notice but I don't want it to be able to go through our things it might steal something and do something...freakish to it!" she said the last with an aristocratic sniff making her sound as if she had a cold. Vernon was however thinking about how the Freak seemed to ruin almost everything good that happened to this family, momentarily forgetting that he was still able to go to New York.

"Then what the hell are we going to do? We surely not taking it with us!" he thundered already turning a nasty shade of purple. His wife immediately went over to him and began to soothe him with not only her hands but her words.

"Just think about this Vernon: we'll take him with us, but we leave him in one of those pet crates the airplanes have. You know, the ones big enough for him to crawl around him, and we just leave him in the hotel room the entire time. Just because he has to come doesn't mean he has to ruin our trip." She saw that her words were getting through to him but not quite. "Plus you could always reassure him of the rules and maybe add a few more for while we're out?" That did the trick. His eyes lit up with glee at the chance to punish-I mean- teach the boy some manners.

"Of course. I don't know what I was thinking letting it almost ruin our trip." Harry didn't care that that night five more lashes were added on to his beating for the rules of when he's with them. He didn't care that right afterward he had to cook dinner while the rest of them either packed or lounged lazily in the sitting room. He even didn't care when he was smacked repeatedly by his Aunt for forgetting to add extra chocolate sauce and sprinkles to Dudley's sundae.

He was going on a trip!

~Currently~

Harry was not enjoying himself as much as he originally thought he would. First he had been woken before dawn to clean the house spotless because his Aunt couldn't stand for the neighbors to think they lived liked slobs before they went on vacation. Then, tired and sweaty from making sure the rose bushes would live while they were gone, had to come back inside and make breakfast for Dudley and Uncle Vernon (none for Aunt Petunia however for she stated that she needed to watch her figure and opted for tea only). He was then herded into the small dog carrier with only a knapsack filled with overripe bananas, bruised apples, stale crackers, and bottles of water. It was an unfortunate and degrading ride for the five year old as he cousin kept poking him with a stick he found outside and calling him all sorts of names. When they arrived at the airport a large thick blanekt was draped over the cage while his family told the attendants that it was better that "Fluffy" sleep throughout the entire. Going through security wasn't so bad, almost like one of those haunted rides at a carnival that he was never allowed to go to, but going into the baggage hold was horrible. Bumps, throws, turn-overs, all of the motions happening to the cage kept messing with the injuries he had already sustained from his Uncle's "lessons." Finally he was placed in the baggage hold with the other animals finding himself neighboring with two chocolate poodles and a friendly bull mastif. At first when Harry took the blanket off his cage to come face-to-face with a large slobbering dog he became frightened and backed far away into his cage. The giant dog, however, was a softy and only nudged his nose into the bars of the cage for a pet with a large panting tongue hanging out his mouth. After a few tentative licks, and small giggles from the drool bath from them, he looked over to his other cage mates. The poodles slightly reminded the small boy of his Aunt: their long necks and superior disposition instantly made him distrust them. That changed when they began yipping at him wanting to play and also be pet. Eventually he found out how to unlatch his door and the door of the others and became swallowed by chocolate fur and giant muscle for the entirety of the trip. He practically destroyed the bananas and apples, shared the crackers with his neighbors as well as the water, so by the end of the plane ride he was completely starved and nearly dehydrated. Suddenly his ears began to pop and he had a sense of weightlessness, this made him think that maybe the plane was descending and herded his new furry friends back in their respectable cages before quickly jumping into his pulling the blanket over just as the cargo was opened. Then the scary dark ride started all over again as he went from the hands of the baggage workers, through security and finally landed at baggage claim. Here Harry felt that it was basically a slow and jerky merry-go-round and sat back and waited for his family to come. After what seemed like hours of waiting and sinking into despair his cage was suddenly jerked off the line, however his happiness was shot by the non-gruff American voice holding him.

"Ah, it would seem that your people forgot to come pick you up little guy. But don't worry, we gotta nice doggy hotel for you to stay in for them to come an' claim you. An' if they don't, I'm sure someone'll adopt a cute thing like yo-" The young man's words were cut short when he realized he had been talking to a tiny human rather than a small dog. Harry, having been panicking the entire time the man was talking, finally unbolted his cage and jumped out running as fast as his stick thin legs could carry him. He ran through crowds of tourist and natives alike trying to find an exit and, to his dismay, avoid the baggage man that had found him. His dirty and torn clothes were flapping behind him while his shoes, who wouldn't have held on a good day, finally tore off forcing him to continue running barefoot.

"Kid! Hey kid wait up! Stop! All I wanna do is ask ya a few questions!"

'Oh no! Ohnoohnoohnoohnoohno!' was all the little boy was thinking. Questions meant he was talking to an adult which was a direct violation of his rules. He could already feel the phantom sting of the belt beating against his flesh as his uncle beat that particular rule into his young mind.

'I need to escape! I need to get away! Please, please, please...' he chanted this until it was all he could hear; not his ragged breath or the smacks of his feet against the linoleum floor, not the gasps or screams of some of the crowds, and especially not the yells of the American.

'Please, I just wanna escape!'

The little boy round another corner only this one the young man knew led to a dead end, so he sprinted faster ready to capture the kid...only to hear a loud pop and no kid in sight.

Carol Ann: Vida I do not think of you as a man and I do not think of you as a woman

[pause]

Carol Ann: I think of you as an angel.

Vida Boheme: I think that's Healthy!

Ms. Vida Boheme, of the Manhattan Boheme's, loved to do a number of things: shop, dress elegantly, dine at elegant places, shop, have a career, nosy into other people's business, and walk the streets of New York. She was currently doing the latter with her new friend a Ms. Noxeema Jackson, a younger (not much younger now, she wasn't quite thirty!) woman who had as much flair and passion for clothing and makeup as her own. It was just like having a sister!

"Ms. Boheme I don't know what it is you were thinking, hell I don't know what I was thinking, to convince me to come out with you just to walk these nasty dank streets. It's not like we haven't seen them before, a rat, is a cab, is a hobo, is a rat!"

Of course, a loudly complaining brightly dressed younger sister.

"My dear Miss Noxema, I merely wanted you to experience with me the sight-seeing of out great city. We're here as role models for every tourist and every new resident, to show them the good that can be achieved if they perservered in any or all goals. Would it really behoove you to not show just a scant of approval at what we are doing?" Her African-American friend just glanced at her before rolling her eyes and continuing to walk the sidewalk as if it were a runway. And indeed it was for if there is anything that Vida steadfastly stood by was that first appearance is everything. There's nothing shallow or pretentious about it, just the way of the world. If you meet a man the first time and he smells of fish but everything else is perfectly acceptable, that fishy smell shall linger with you every time the two should meet. It was just how the human brain worked! This is why the Lady Boheme was wearing a sensible yet fashionable pair of black kitten heels, a peach pant suit with matching floppy hat and a small clutch. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail which hung over one side of her shoulder while the rest of her was shielded from those pesky UV rays by her hat. Fashion forward, and health conscience, really, she was just perfect. Noxeema opted for a casual denim overall dress with a medium sleeved orange striped shirt underneath along with a pair of flowered orange sandles on her feet. Her hair was in tiny braids all around her face and they were held back by an orange headband with a matching flower to the shoes attached and a small sunflower purse to match. All in all, her ensemble matched her personality: bright, sassy, and a blast from the past. As they walked down Central and Broadway people turned heads at the vastly different women friendly conversing with each other. When they openly stared, Vida would just smile good-naturedly and waved in her supermodel sort of way. Noxeema just stared back while raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. It was as they were walking that the blonde woman noticed a beefy man yelling at some bellhops in front of a hotel (not exactly five star...barely three on a good day. She might consider visiting there if she was ever put in witness protection) while a rather tall woman was busy coddling a good heavens what is that thing!

"Noxee, do my eyes deceive me or is that woman trying to placate a giant wailing beach ball?"

Her friend stopped and turned towards the sight giving a strangled gasp at the sight.

"You know as much as I hate to agree with you, and you must now that I'm going to need at least three Broadway classicals to get me out of my funk, but yes. The giraffe woman is indeed cuddling with the obese crying litle boy while the other obese crying little boy is throwing a tantrum." Vida turned to look at her friend, then back at the scene.

"You know...it's very sad, but I have no idea which crying obese child you're talking about at the moment."

"Which is exactly why we should keep walking instead of stop and staring act we're the Million Man and March!" Noxeema stated while pulling her blonde friend with her since Vida couldn't see to tear her eyes away from the horrifying scene. She shuddered 'like a car crash!' was all she could think.

After turning away from the street they continued their walk for an uninterrupted five minutes before a loud pop distracted them.

"What in the name of Dorothy Dandrige was that?" Noxeema exclaimed. Vida, used to her colorful outbursts, just shrugged delicately.

"Could be anything from a cab running over a pothole to Christine Capone's breasts finally exploding on impact." This time Noxeema was the one to roll her eyes at her friend's words.

"Must you? Really?"

"That little Pamela Anderson wannabe had been a bee in my Stephen Jones bonnet ever since she came upon the drag scene. And if I see her pumping up those airbags she calls tits one more time just to impress the judges I will-...Noxee do you see that?" She looked to find a black man trying to sell oranges on the corner wearing rags.

"What? Affirmative action failing?"

"No no not that, that" Vida led her over to a shivering pair of trashcans which was revealed to actually be a shivering little boy. He was huddled in a tiny ball with his scarred fingers buried in his mess of black hair and ratty clothes covering his entire body. Vida, not being able to look at such a pitiful sight, gently moved aside the trashcans startling the small shivering body and she found herself mesmerized by large green doe eyes.

"Hello little one, what are you doing hiding behind these?"

Harry had no idea how he had disappeared then reappeared away from the airport and at the moment he didn't care. He was tired from running, his feet were aching from being barefoot, his lungs were on fire and his head was hurting from not eating or having anything to drink. It was at that moment that he remembered that he was in a new and strange country, surrounded by strangers, and no famiy. Not anymore. The little boy began to sniffle feeling tears fall onto his numb cheeks. His own family didn't want him and had left him at the airport, had he been that bad? That much of a freak? Still held in belief that he should never cry in public he hid behind some trashcans sniffling and shivering until he fell asleep. He awoke sometime later, the sun seemed to be setting, to the grating sound of the cans being moved and looked up to see...an angel?

"Hello little one, what are you doing hiding behind these?"

How could he tell the angel that he was a freak? That his own family had abandoned him because of what a bad boy he was? So all he did was look back down and shaking his head, wishing his aunt and uncle had actually gotten him the glasses his kindergarten teacher said he needed. Then maybe he could see his angel better! Speaking of his angel, why was she crouching? Why was she raising her hand towards him? Was she going to hit him? Did she already find out what a bad boy he was?

"Please, no! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll be better!" he began to whimper.

"Please, no! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll be better!"

Vida could honestly say she had never been more shocked in her entire life. Not when she was kicked out and disowned by her family, called a "faggot" on an almost daily basis, or even during Noxeema's exceedingly long and sometimes (who are we kidding, most of the time) racist rants. However seeing this small, quivering, and apparently British little boy afraid of her just because she raised a hand forced a tight band around her heart.

"Little one, I just wanted to remove you from the filth and grime of the street. It's not where a child like you should be." Even as she spoke as gently as she could his wide viridian eyes still held fear and a touch of confusion. As she lowered her outstretched hand Vida began contemplating how to get him to trust her, or at least follow her. Thankfully, her girlfriend beat her to the punch.

"Little Brit, when was the last time you ate?" the tall coco-colored woman asked authoritively. The little boy immediately straightened up, as if he had been trained to, and looked over at her. For a split second she actually felt bad for making him probably relive memories he shouldn't even have.

"Umm...uh, I had a banana, an apple, and some water a couple hours ago." Both women stared at him as if he were a pair of knock-off Prada boots in last season's colors.

"Say what now? Oh, no no no no Hunny. I applaud you for doing the 'healthy thing'," she actually used air quotes, "but growing boys, British or no, need to eat full meals every couple of hours. So, have you ever had Chinese food?" at the head shake from the little pile of rags she pulled up her thin purse straps higher onto her shoulders ready to go. "Well, I'm hungry and you must be as well, so we're going . Vida, get Little Brit and bring him along. I'm going to go ahead and make sure they've got our usual table ready." And with that Noxeema strutted away as if she hadn't just controlled two people like dolls in a Barbie Playhouse. Vida could only look on almost proudly as her "helping people and shit" was now rubbing off on the slightly younger (not much mind you!) woman. She looked back to see the little boy staring at the distancing woman with more shock than she was in before turning his eyes back to her with hope practically pouring out in buckets. When she offered her hand again to the little boy, it took him awhile, but he eventually got up the courage to grasp it with his smaller frail ones. Seeing him do so brought a large bright smile onto her beautifully made up face and brought a tiny glimmer of one on his.

"I'll hope you'll excuse our dear friend Ms. Noxeema Jackson. She can be a bit high strung when she wants to be." she said gently hoping she didn't scare him as they began to walk towards the restaurant.

"Is she an angel like you?" he asked shyly then ducking his head down as if expecting reprimand for asking a question. She gently shook his hand forcing him to look up and gave him a soft smile.

"She's what we'll call an angel in training. But you? You're the real deal." His already wide eyes, if possible, got bigger at her words and looked at her as if staring into her soul.

"Really?" he whispered. Her smile just stayed the same, but to him became almost brighter.

"Really. For if there was anyone more deserving of being an angel, it would be you. I suggest we speed up a bit, Ms. Noxeema is not regarded for her patience!"

And on that day, little Harry Potter found himself a family with an angel and an angel-in-waiting.

What do you think? To those who haven't seen Too Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar the story might be hard to follow so I suggest you either see it or read enough about it on Wikipedia to understand the storyline. Don't worry the next chapter is in progress and take over the rest of Harry's childhood pre-Hogwarts, and then his first year at Hogwarts. Reviews are still my best friend and no I'm not abandoning DOS, this is just a little side project ;) Ta for now!

~Sol