my second attempt at fanfic... it's the same story, but i changed the title and summary coz of... a ceerrtain review. yeah. if you don't like it, don't review it. sad reviews are kinda disheartening and depressing...
Prologue:
It is the end of year holidays and I have been doomed, by my dear teacher (Pfft, teacher... she is some sort of witch), Mrs McGonagall, to return the Dursleys home for the duration of the holidays.
"Hhhmmmmm. The Dursleys." I thought the words of the most distasteful family in world out loud. They try to act normally, live normally and say normal things. There is one flaw, though. They are in every way not-normal. And they hate me. That's another sign of not being normal. I mean, I'm Harry Potter; I'm the Boy Who Lived! Everyone should love me. I'm loveable, sweet, and down-right gorgeous. Ok. So there's Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley and- uuuuggghhhh... Dudley... the biggest (and I mean that quite literally) and most horribly spoilt TOOL in the history of big and horribly spoilt tools. And Mr Dumble-Bumble decided that this family happened to be the last of my relatives. Hello? Wasn't there anyone else? Sirius? Any other relatives on my father's side? No? You say that, but you don't mean it... So I've been so very cruelly sentenced to a childhood of-
"HARRY!" Uncle McHuge's annoyingly loud voice reached me, in my lonely cupboard under the stairs, from where he was sitting, in a chair that is evidently way too small for his unnaturally large arse.
Something slipped out of my mouth at that moment, which I regretted immediately.
"Tehehe, fuck you, husband of my awesome mother's evil excuse of a sister!" Oh God. Why did I just say that? Stupid Harry! *Note to self: Do not taunt the fat man* Damn me and my rush of brain power when I think I've said something smart but it just turns out that I'm about to be-
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" (This is where the story got interesting)
Shhiiitt...
I heard McHuge's heavy (oh how very extremely heavy) footsteps pounding towards my 'room', as he stiffly stomp-waddled down the hall. I could hear the surprisingly loud scraping of his gut against both sides of the hallway walls...
I pulled out my trusty wand, from which I bought from John Hurt (who turns out to be the Great Dragon, who betrays Merlin...).
Vernon banged loudly on my sad excuse for a door, and pulled it off its hinges and threw it, accidently, into poor Aunt Anorexia who had come to see what all the scraping of fat down the hall was.
"EXPELLIARMOUS!"
Yep. That's what I yelled. At my uncle. Who is a muggle. And is holding NOTHING. Least of all a wand, perhaps, that I was trying to 'expelliarmous' out of his hand. The last thing he had in his hands was my door, which was now lying on an unconscious and very flat Aunt Petunia. That was so lame...
[The next morning... apparently word travels very quickly in UK]
"HARRY POTTER!" The piece of rather angry paper screamed at me from the other side of the living room.
"YOU HAVE BEEN SUSPENDED FROM HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY FOR ATTEMPTING TO PERFORM THE 'EXPELLIARMOUS' SPELL ON YOUR MUGGLE UNCLE... YADA, YADA, YADA, YADA, YOU OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED, YADA, yada, yada *yaawwwnns*, yada, you get the idea... don't come back for about three weeks, four days, seven hours and 37 and a half minutes. You're a magician/wizard boy, work it out... Yep. Ohh... GRR, BOO-HISSS!"
And then the Howler exploded in my face and nearly blew up the whole world. How rude.
And that was how I got suspended... and now I am bored shitless (man, what a stupid expression. So bored you can't poo anymore). So I'm going to tell you about my first year at Hogwarts. Yes, from MY perspective, none of this JK Rolling piffle...
It all began... with me.
So what did you think? Hope you liked it. If i get good reviews then I'll continue the story... :)
