Yup, another parody. I sense a pattern.
Enjoy the fanfiction!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
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Voldemort cackled as he entered the house. But it wasn't just any house. No, that place's name was Godric's Hollow, and that was where the Potters lived.
Because you obviously didn't know that.
I'm just going to assume that the readers' IQ is lower than acceptable, and explain every single thing.
Voldemort was there to make sure that the prophecy remained unfulfilled. He was here to kill babies and exterminate muggles, and he was all out of muggles.
Well, almost. He was pretty sure that there were still a few billions left somewhere.
He climbed up the stairs, thankful that the adult Potters were out. They left their two children, one-year-old twins Rupert and Harry, alone in a crib.
At midnight.
When they knew that there was a Dark Lord trying to kill them.
Not very responsible, in my opinion.
Voldemort stood in front of the crib, an evil smile on his face. He pointed his wand at the twins, and muttered, "Avada Kedavra!"
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James and Lily Potter were running towards the Headmaster's office, each carrying a baby. As they burst in through the door, Albus Dumbledore smiled at them.
"Hello, boys. Hint, hint, I'm insulting you, Mrs. Potter. What brings you here?"
"Professor, Voldemort attacked our house! And he's dead now. We automatically assume that the children killed him," James explained.
"Well, that certainly seems plausible. Is it safe to assume that only one of them defeated Voldemort?" Dumbledore checked.
"Completely," Lily agreed.
"Yes. Both of them have a scar, Harry has a lightning bolt on his forehead, while Rupert has a cross-shaped one on his cheek," James informed him.
"Right. I am guessing that Rupert is the Chosen One," Dumbledore said. "My reasoning is, Rupert's scar is cross-shaped, cross is a symbol of Christianity, Christians burned witches, there are more muggleborn witches than muggleborn wizards, and Voldemort hates muggleborns.
"It all makes sense in context.
"Anyway, you must pay more attention to Rupert than to Harry. Even though that will most likely backfire in some way, trust me, it is for the best," the Headmaster finished.
"We will trust you blindly because you're old."
"Neat." Dumbledore gave them a grandfatherly smile.
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Ten years have passed since that fateful day, and many things have changed in the Potter household.
"Hey, woman! Give me waffles!" Rupert screamed.
"Of course, muffin-pie-cakes," Lily cooed.
"Well, aren't you the cutest thing I've ever seen, son! On a side note, I will act exactly as I did when I was eleven years old. And by that I mean that I will be a major douchebag," James proudly stated.
In the mean time, as his whole family was having breakfast, Harry was stuffed in a cupboard. Kind of like with the Dursleys, except no, not like that at all. Dursleys are muggles. How can it be child abuse when wizards are doing it?
'A Very Potter Musical' references aside, Harry was angry. And quite uncomfortable, because the cupboard was so small, that he was literally stuffed in it.
Ever since he could talk, Harry exceeded in everything he did. At the age of five, he had already built a nuclear power plant, all by himself. Of course, Rupert said he built it, and his parents believed him. When he was seven, he had discovered the cure to cancer, but the achievement was once again claimed by his twin. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted.
"Slave, get out of there! You must clean your room, mow the lawn, and slay the Nemean Lion," James rudely ordered.
"If you don't, we'll beat you up," Lily added.
"Servants, what are you doing?! I need to get dressed by 10 am, and then I'll go murder puppies and little kittens!" Rupert bellowed.
"Yes, darling!" Lily shouted excitedly.
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Harry finally got some free time in his schedule, right between 'horrible beatings' and 'painful sleep.' He used this time productively, contemplating his life on top of the roof. God knows how he got there.
His whole so-called 'family' didn't even notice him most of the time. When they did, it was only so that they could beat him, abuse him, starve him, or insult him. Sirius and Remus only ever paid attention to Rupert. Even their house-elf ordered him around.
He knew that he was the real Boy-Who-Lived, the voice in his head told him so.
Totally legit.
But, he had plans. Plans that involved taking over the wizarding world, and then everyone will have to bow to him! Muahahaha!
Of course, first he had to get his letter to Hogwarts.
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Their Hogwarts letters arrived on July 25th. The family was sleeping, or, in Harry's case, working in the garden.
"Servants! I've got the letter. Now you shall take me to Diagon Alley, which will be my first step towards becoming the next Dark Lord!" Rupert cackled, barging into his parents' bedroom.
"Honey, don't you think it's a bit too early?" Lily asked blearily.
"No, slaves! Now get up!"
"What a polite little boy," James praised, full of pride.
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The whole Potter family was shopping in the Diagon Alley. Of course, Rupert got the coolest things, while Harry was only given second-hand junk. He got a cursed robe, a haunted trunk, and a stuffed owl. All in all, life sucked.
When his turn to get his wand finally came, his parents and brother skipped away to eat ice cream, or something like that. He got through a couple dozen wands, but none were right for him. After he tried out the last wand, which also didn't work, Ollivander disappeared in the back of his store. He strode back with a golden box in his hands.
When Harry tried out that wand, a rainbow and five kittens came out of it.
"Well, Mr. Potter, that is quite a powerful wand you have here. You see, my great-great-great grandfather crafted it. It is 12 inches long, made of dementor's bone, which they totally have, and Voldemort's hair," Ollivander described.
"So, is that why he's bald?" Harry wondered.
"No, that's because he's evil, and everyone knows that evil equals bald."
"That makes way too much sense."
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Harry closed his eyes as Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on his head.
'Well, you are certainly interesting. I can sort you into any of the houses!' the Sorting Hat muttered. 'Oh well. The plot sorts you into SLYTHERIN!'
When Harry took off the hat, he noticed the complete silence, broken only by the sound of flapping wings. An owl dropped a letter on him.
The letter was colored red. A howler.
Harry would have silenced it with his mad skillz, but he was too late. It started screeching in James Potter's voice.
"Boy, you have brought shame to this family, and you're lucky we didn't just kill you! Yes, that's legal. We disown you!"
"How did you immediately know where the hat sorted me? And when were you able to write the letter? Are you a seer?" Harry questioned him confusedly.
James ignored him, which was understandable, considering it was just a letter.
"Since you've obviously turned evil, you are no longer my son. Apparently, CPS doesn't exist here. So, yeah, you have nowhere to go during the summer."
"Wow. My dad is an asshole." Harry summed up everyone's thoughts.
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"Rupert, we have to protect the Philosopher's Stone from Snape! If we don't, who knows what that greasy git will get up to!" Ron ranted.
"Um, no. I'm not in the mood." Rupert lazily waved him away.
"Fear not! I will protect you, innocent students!" Harry jumped out from behind a corner, wearing a cape, and ran into the room with a Cerberus.
"Okay..." Ron unsurely replied.
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Harry defeated Quirrelmort in an action-filled fight full of drama.
"Nope, I did." Rupert told them from where he was eating popcorn.
"I automatically believe you," Dumbledore said.
"That sucks," Harry decided.
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The second year at Hogwarts went no better. Harry heroically almost killed himself in order to save Ginny, but, as it turned out, Ginny was evil.
That somehow made everyone believe that Rupert saved her.
Don't ask me how that worked.
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This was it. The final duel between Harry and Voldemort, all horcruxes destroyed.
Voldemort was cackling, "Foolish boy! You think that just because you're the BOY-WHO-LIVED, you can defeat me..."
"What did you say?" Harry asked.
"YOU'RE THE BOY-WHO-LIVED! Did everyone hear that? Yes? Okay."
"Ha! I led you into a clever trap, and made you tell everyone that I'm the real Boy-Who-Lived!" Harry laughed.
"Curses! I mean, bollocks! Sorry, forgot I was British for a moment there."
"Yup. And now, I'm going to kill you."
"Damn."
And so he killed Voldemort.
Happy endings. You gotta love them!
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