A.N: Please don't ask me where I got this idea, or WHY I wrote this... It was for a friend *coughPYROcough* of mine. This idea was purely from her sick, twisted little mind... I have just twisted it even more! *malicious laugh* NOW! *holds up arm and points finger* TO THE DICLAIMER!!! (and, no, 'diclaimer' is NOT spelled wrong... it is a joke... a very funny one at that.)
Disclaimer: Nothing in the story (i.e. characters, magical....er...thingies) belongs to me. They belong to the magnificent J.K. Rowling. McDonald's belongs to McDonald's... or whatever... TV's belong to whoever invented them... Parallel universes belong to the Twilight Zone. Julie MacInnis belongs to my friend Jewlz (a.k.a. Pyro or Mad Eye Julie on FF.net) because it IS her. Only the pathetic plot belongs solely to me. Don't sue me, or I will bite you once I get on a sugar high again. *MmMmMmMm... Sugar...* Or I might just ask for your spleen... whichever happens, I ASSURE you that it will NOT be pretty!
THIS FANFICTION IS DEDICATED TO JEWLZ!
The Hamburger Files
By Kegogi
Chapter One: Mc Whatsit's?
Once upon a time, in a land, far, far over the ocean, there were two friends. One of them was the famous Harry Potter, a young wizard extraordinaire. Both of his parents were killed, when he was nothing more that a little babe in a crib, by the infamous Lord Voldemort (or You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and a whole other assortment of useless, meaningless names). But, when Voldemort (or You-Know-Who, if you prefer) tried to turn his wand on the helpless infant, his curse rebounded onto him, and his power broke... Some say that he merely ran away, scared, powerless, broken... Others say that he died... Still others believed that he wandered around as nothing more than a ghoulish sprit. We all know now that the first rumor was true, but our story takes place during his second rise to power...
Then of course, there was Ronald Weasley, the red haired, freckled, gangly one. Ever since his first year at Hogwarts, he had been living under Harry's shadow. Even though he was a good ten inches taller that Harry, no body seemed to notice him. So over the years, Harry and Ron's friendship wavered and became strong again, only to start the cycle once more. But in the time that our little fanfiction takes place, their friendship is stronger than ever...
"Ron!" Harry yelled as he tried to wade through the bustling crowd, "Ron, I'm over here!"
Ron looked around in confusion, not knowing who had called him. The heavy rain dripped off of his long nose as he craned his neck to search the crowd for the voice who called him. He didn't see much of anything... Just fat, bald men in business suits wandering around talking on portable tellyferns. The tall, strict looking women strutting around confidently in tight business suits... Young teenage girls wearing high heels and baring their navels for the world to see (several of these young ladies winked impishly at Ron as they walked by). Ron even saw some of those eccentric new-age men who were dressed in what looked to be tree bark and animal furs, babbling about the world coming to an end by the year 2000, shaking their great, greasy heads about! Silly Muggles!
Finally, he found his best friend, hair plastered to his head with rain (or sweat, he couldn't tell which), trying to battle his way through the crowd. "Harry!" Ron threw one long, freckly arm into the air to act as a beacon for his friend to follow. Harry furiously tried to battle his way through the crowd of Muggles to reach the freckled arm, but to no avail. The women's 20-pound tote bags pounded into his chest like small wrecking balls, and the various umbrellas and walking sticks and briefcases kept poking his skinny stomach; he was simply too short, and the people simply brushed him off as if he were only a small child.
"Ron," Harry yelled over the noise, "Come over here! You can meet me in the McDonald's!"
"A McWhat?" Ron yelled back, "What's that?" several of the passing Muggles stared at him like he was a circus freak, but he ignored them. He saw Harry ducking into what looked to be a restaurant with a large golden M plastered above its door. "So that's McDonald's," A few more looks from Muggles came his way.
Ron began to walk easily through the crowd. His amazing basketball-star height often did best in large numbers of people; he could easily see where to step, how many people were there, and just how to get them out of his way. Steadily, he strolled up to the large glass door of McWhatsit's and pulled it open. What he saw amazed him.
Greasy wood peeked at him from every corner as did many tan-colored tables. Teenage Muggles ran around behind a counter at the far end of the restaurant, their funny-looking blue and red uniforms blurring together. Two of them accidentally bumped into each other, and one of them dropped a platter of what looked to be frozen chicken all over the floor. A few more Muggles waiting in line wrinkled their noses in disgust; one of them mumbled something about reporting them to the management. But Ron didn't see anything wrong. That food could easily be cleaned by using a Sanitation Charm. Silly Muggles he thought.
"Ron!," Ron spun around on the spot stupidly, trying to figure out who called his name. "Ron, do you plan to spend the whole day staring at everyone with your mouth wide open?" Harry was sitting in one corner of the restaurant, holding up a tray of food.
"Harry! This place is amazing!" Ron said as he sat down, "Wait 'til I tell dad and mum about this! They won't believe it! I mean, look at all of those posters! None of the pictures move!"
Across the way, a little girl who had been listening in on the one-sided conversation leaned in close to her mother. "Mommy, has he gone nutters?"
"I don't know dear. Now don't stare at the boy and start eating," came the mother's hushed reply.
"Harry, Harry!" Ron asked.
"Wha—huh?" Harry had been smirking at the conversation going on at the next table.
"What's this?" Ron held up a long, thin plastic tube.
"Oh, that," Harry said, "That's a straw. You put it in the lid of the cup like this—" He demonstrated by poking the straw through a few slits in the flat piece of plastic. "Now you try."
Ron unwrapped another straw and took the other cup. Squeezing the paper cup in one hand, he held the straw in the other. Carefully taking aim, he roughly jammed the straw through the lid. The straw went in, but not without a good amount of coke splashing up in Ron's face. "Amazing," he gasped. Slowly, the smile faded from his face. Now what? he thought.
Ron stared at the paper cup a few moments longer.
"Ron, what's the matter?" Harry asked looking up from his BigMac.
"Oh, nothing," Ron answered. He stared at the cup a little bit more.
"Ron, that's called a drink. Don't tell me you don't know how to use one.."
"Of course I do!" Ron sniffed indignantly. He suddenly grabbed the cup roughly and turned it upside-down over his mouth.
"NO! RON!" Harry wailed.
A great torrent of cola splashed all over Ron's face, some getting up his nose, more getting in his eyes, and even less hitting target in his mouth. Ron sputtered in complete surprise. The soda dripped off of his chin and nose and onto his already soaked T-shirt, and his hair became plastered to his forehead. "Amazing!" Ron said again.
Harry moaned and put his head in his hands. This was a very bad idea, Harry thought, I should have just gotten him a bottle of water... "Ron, why don't you go to the bathroom to clean up," he said aloud.
Ron happily jumped out of his seat and grinned. "I'll be right back."
As soon as he was out of earshot, the woman with the young girl leaned over to Harry. "It's a very decent thing you're doing, taking care of a friend like that. I bet your mother and father would be very proud." She smiled warmly at him, the mascara on her eyes clumping together slightly. Harry only smiled weakly back.
"Well, I'd better go see how he's doing," Harry said by means of an excuse.
Harry got up and began to walk to the back of the restaurant. The lady didn't know just how much her comment hurt him. Ron certainly wasn't subnormal, just a bit surprised. And Harry's parents certainly weren't going to be proud of him. They were dead, after all.
"Ron," Harry asked when he got to the loo. He didn't hear an answer through the door. "Ron?" He asked again. "Don't make me come in there!" Losing his patience, Harry swung the door open. What he saw shocked him.
Ron was standing in front of the hand dryer, having it blow up into his face... Or at least that's what YOU'D think.
"RON!" Harry yelped. He hurried over to his friend worriedly. If anybody saw this...
Ron had the air spigot turned downward and had somehow managed to tuck it into his pants. The gust of warm air rushed down Ron's pant leg and was beginning to inflate it. Ron turned around and grinned, "So this is what this was for! Drying your pants!"
Harry went over and dragged his friend away from the air dryer. "No, Ron. You let those air dry. You dry your face and hands with that."
"But I already have," Ron said, "but now my face is all sticky, see?" He ripped off a piece of paper towel from the dispenser and pressed it against his face. The little scrap stuck like a fly to flypaper.
Harry slapped his forehead with his palm. He forcefully pushed Ron over to the sinks. "Wash your face," he commanded. Ron did so, and Harry handed him a paper towel.
"Fascinating," Ron said.
Taking Ron by his shirt collar, Harry dragged him out of the bathroom. Still practically hauling him along, Harry plopped Ron down back into his seat. The lady at the other table gave Harry another crinkly-eyed smile. Harry smiled back nervously. "Ron, just eat the damn burger," he whispered hoarsely, "My face is getting tired from smiling,"
The lady at the other table frowned. With a soft "Hrrumph," She practically dragged her five year old daughter out of the chair and stomped out madly.
"But mummy," the little girl wailed, "I wanna see what happens to the crazies!"
Ron looked alarmed, "What was that all about?"
"Nothing," Harry lied. "Eat your burger."
Ron lifted the BigMac to his mouth and took a large bite. The warm, juicy hamburger filled his mouth with the other condiments. The juicy tomatoes and onions and lettuce were so delicious. But there was only one thing missing.
"Harry, I still need a drink."
Harry glared up at his friend through his dark fringe. He scowled for a moment, a silent battle being waged in his head. Should I give Ron another soda? No, I shouldn't... We don't really want another episode, do we? But I can't just let my friend go thirsty... Why couldn't I have led him to the Leaky Cauldron? "Fine," Harry finally said out loud.
Heavily, he stood up and walked over to the soda fountain. selecting a smaller cup this time (just in case Ron decided to spill it again. It wouldn't make THAT big of a mess) he filled it once more with Coca Cola, and poked the straw through its lid.
"Here," he said slamming the cup down on the table.
"Thanks Harry," Ron said cheerily. He took the cup in his hand and prepared to turn it upside-down.
"WAIT!" Harry yelped.
Ron stopped midway, "What?"
"Ron, you just suck on the straw, that's all."
"Oh, I knew that," Ron said sheepishly.
"Of course you did," came Harry's tired reply.
A/N 2: Annnd, that's it for chapter one! Ok, just break it to me nice and easy... *cringes* It SUCKS, doesn't it? DOESN'T IT? DON'T LIE TO ME!!! I can sense unfaithfulness, and when I do I'll sic my pretty little Tom Riddle on you! BWAAAHAHAHAHA! Or, you could just tell me my story is the best you've read in a long time and it provided comic relief. If you could do that, you'd give a great boost to my already overly-inflated ego... Can you do that? PRETTY PLEASE?