Harry Potter and the Vast-Conspiracy Movement
Chapter 1: Harry Potter woke up at the highly-significant hour of 5:26 AM. His scar was hurting again. It never seemed to hurt at a convenient time, like when John Kerry was giving a speech or the French were smelling up the place during the Triwizard Tournament. Those Beauxbatons girls might be hot, but Harry couldn't force himself to succumb to their personal hygiene habits. Once during the Third Task of the Triwizard tournament, Harry had heard Fleur scream when a boggart had turned into a can of shaving cream. "No pleez," Fleur had pleaded, "Do no shave zee armpeets…pleez." That she had nests of hair tucked away under her supple arms disgusting Harry so much that he used the Shaving-Spell on her right there. Fleur was a broken woman until she had met his best friends older brother Bill (who is going to die, but we'll get to that later) and he didn't shave either so they decided to make sex and babies. But this isn't the time to discuss that.
Anyway, as Harry went to apply some Aloe Vera to his throbbing forehead, he noticed that Uncle Vernon was snoring. He knew immediately that this was a very important point in his life, and he realized that Ron snored too. Uncle Vernon and Ron must be the same person, thought Harry. So Harry went into his aunt and uncle's bedroom and jumped on the bed. "Get up, Ron! How come you never told me it was you?" And then Harry was severely beaten. Seven times. Harry limped back to his room and packed his things. He couldn't understand why Uncle VernRon had beaten him. They were best friends. This horrible, horrible event could mean only one thing.
Harry Potter ran into his cousin's room and turned on his computer. He logged on to the internet, and typed in "mugglenet.com" and began rapidly searching the guestlist for "squidward" Ah-ha! There she was, saying how sure she was that Snape and the Ice Cream Lady at the Zoo on page 26 of the Socerer's Stone would be a couple in years to come. But No! there were Squidwards 1-893 signed on as well. Which one was the Oracle? Which one knew his destiny?
But before he could private message them all, he felt something cold poking into the back of his neck. (Slash people, get your heads out of the gutter! Now isn't the time for that!)
"Get up, Senor." This mysterious person talked with a heavy Spanish accent.
"Who are you?"
"Now isn't the time for Questiones, Senor."
Harry turned around. There was a humongous fat blonde 16 year old pointing a wand at Harry. He was wearing a black mask like Zorro's.
"Dudley?"
"No, I am Wizard Dudley the Bandit Ranger. I've been going to Hogwarts for the last five years under an invisibility cloak that I stole from MoM."
"Aunt Petunia has a wizarding cloak."
"No, you fool…I was a-referring to dah Ministry de Magica."
"Huh?"
"It's an acronym."
"Oh like the time SevS and McG disprtd dn to HW to find the HBP near the PoA but not until the PoS stole the SS/PS from the CoS when the OotP took the GoF from HG/RW/DM/HP?"
But before he could finish his story Dudley turned into a dolphin.
"What do I do now, squidward?" he typed in the computer. But it was of no use. The flailing dolphin had pulled the power cord out of the wall, disconnecting him the world wide web.
"Dam[censored]!"
Harry wondered what he could do. He decided to send an owl to the inventor of the internet:
Dear Mr. Gore:
But then Harry realized that Mr. Gore was too busy re-counting the votes in Florida to answer his owl! What could he do?
He packed his trunk and let Hedwig out of her cage and told her to fly to Hogwarts. He opened the door and found a couple of Death Eaters on his lawn, playing with sparklers.
"Hey 'Arry!"
"Sup, man?"
"Why are you guys here? Begone servants of Darkness!"
"Uh…we're the American characters JKR put into the book for no reason. Hello?!"
"Where have you been, fool?"
"But why…why sparklers?"
"Because everything else is illegal inside the city limits. You've got to be nice and shit. Cuz, it scares peoples dogs and cats, and causes fires and third degree burns."
"So they banned fireworks? All you can have is sparklers?"
"Harry…we need to tell you something."
"It's very important."
"What is it, then?"
They exchanged meaningful glances. "Harry," said the Death Eater named Bellmont, "have a Starbucks."
"A …what?"
"OMG! Harry, take this," said the other Death Eater, whose name was DeLaRaujauntekanye, "it's a Tall Java Chip Frappuchino."
"Do you have a small?"
The Death Eaters laughed, "Um…that IS a small, hun."
"You said it was a tall--"
"Whatever. Harry---you're mother was…"
"A Death Eater? I thought it might be true ever since Squidward said so on a chat room."
"Uh--not a Death Eater, Harry. You're mother was a crack-whore."
"Wait that's an acronym isn't it…cork-her-caw."
"No but this sentence is a highly significant acronym: Bubbles are yummy and sour?
"Let's see…Dan bless member yuyu…"
And then the Death Eaters ran across the street to Piers Polkiss's house.
"Curious," thought Harry aloud.
He opened the door to the Polkiss house and stared inside to find the American Death Eaters sitting on his sofa, drinking a Red Bull and watching Celebrity Justice. He raised his wand. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" he cried, and one of the Death Eaters snapped together like a yoga teacher. But before Harry could get the other one, he was hit across the head with a letter from the Improper Use of Magic Office and knocked the floor unconscious.
Chapter 1: Harry Potter woke up at the highly-significant hour of 5:26 AM. His scar was hurting again. It never seemed to hurt at a convenient time, like when John Kerry was giving a speech or the French were smelling up the place during the Triwizard Tournament. Those Beauxbatons girls might be hot, but Harry couldn't force himself to succumb to their personal hygiene habits. Once during the Third Task of the Triwizard tournament, Harry had heard Fleur scream when a boggart had turned into a can of shaving cream. "No pleez," Fleur had pleaded, "Do no shave zee armpeets…pleez." That she had nests of hair tucked away under her supple arms disgusting Harry so much that he used the Shaving-Spell on her right there. Fleur was a broken woman until she had met his best friends older brother Bill (who is going to die, but we'll get to that later) and he didn't shave either so they decided to make sex and babies. But this isn't the time to discuss that.
Anyway, as Harry went to apply some Aloe Vera to his throbbing forehead, he noticed that Uncle Vernon was snoring. He knew immediately that this was a very important point in his life, and he realized that Ron snored too. Uncle Vernon and Ron must be the same person, thought Harry. So Harry went into his aunt and uncle's bedroom and jumped on the bed. "Get up, Ron! How come you never told me it was you?" And then Harry was severely beaten. Seven times. Harry limped back to his room and packed his things. He couldn't understand why Uncle VernRon had beaten him. They were best friends. This horrible, horrible event could mean only one thing.
Harry Potter ran into his cousin's room and turned on his computer. He logged on to the internet, and typed in "mugglenet.com" and began rapidly searching the guestlist for "squidward" Ah-ha! There she was, saying how sure she was that Snape and the Ice Cream Lady at the Zoo on page 26 of the Socerer's Stone would be a couple in years to come. But No! there were Squidwards 1-893 signed on as well. Which one was the Oracle? Which one knew his destiny?
But before he could private message them all, he felt something cold poking into the back of his neck. (Slash people, get your heads out of the gutter! Now isn't the time for that!)
"Get up, Senor." This mysterious person talked with a heavy Spanish accent.
"Who are you?"
"Now isn't the time for Questiones, Senor."
Harry turned around. There was a humongous fat blonde 16 year old pointing a wand at Harry. He was wearing a black mask like Zorro's.
"Dudley?"
"No, I am Wizard Dudley the Bandit Ranger. I've been going to Hogwarts for the last five years under an invisibility cloak that I stole from MoM."
"Aunt Petunia has a wizarding cloak."
"No, you fool…I was a-referring to dah Ministry de Magica."
"Huh?"
"It's an acronym."
"Oh like the time SevS and McG disprtd dn to HW to find the HBP near the PoA but not until the PoS stole the SS/PS from the CoS when the OotP took the GoF from HG/RW/DM/HP?"
But before he could finish his story Dudley turned into a dolphin.
"What do I do now, squidward?" he typed in the computer. But it was of no use. The flailing dolphin had pulled the power cord out of the wall, disconnecting him the world wide web.
"Dam[censored]!"
Harry wondered what he could do. He decided to send an owl to the inventor of the internet:
Dear Mr. Gore:
But then Harry realized that Mr. Gore was too busy re-counting the votes in Florida to answer his owl! What could he do?
He packed his trunk and let Hedwig out of her cage and told her to fly to Hogwarts. He opened the door and found a couple of Death Eaters on his lawn, playing with sparklers.
"Hey 'Arry!"
"Sup, man?"
"Why are you guys here? Begone servants of Darkness!"
"Uh…we're the American characters JKR put into the book for no reason. Hello?!"
"Where have you been, fool?"
"But why…why sparklers?"
"Because everything else is illegal inside the city limits. You've got to be nice and shit. Cuz, it scares peoples dogs and cats, and causes fires and third degree burns."
"So they banned fireworks? All you can have is sparklers?"
"Harry…we need to tell you something."
"It's very important."
"What is it, then?"
They exchanged meaningful glances. "Harry," said the Death Eater named Bellmont, "have a Starbucks."
"A …what?"
"OMG! Harry, take this," said the other Death Eater, whose name was DeLaRaujauntekanye, "it's a Tall Java Chip Frappuchino."
"Do you have a small?"
The Death Eaters laughed, "Um…that IS a small, hun."
"You said it was a tall--"
"Whatever. Harry---you're mother was…"
"A Death Eater? I thought it might be true ever since Squidward said so on a chat room."
"Uh--not a Death Eater, Harry. You're mother was a crack-whore."
"Wait that's an acronym isn't it…cork-her-caw."
"No but this sentence is a highly significant acronym: Bubbles are yummy and sour?
"Let's see…Dan bless member yuyu…"
And then the Death Eaters ran across the street to Piers Polkiss's house.
"Curious," thought Harry aloud.
He opened the door to the Polkiss house and stared inside to find the American Death Eaters sitting on his sofa, drinking a Red Bull and watching Celebrity Justice. He raised his wand. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" he cried, and one of the Death Eaters snapped together like a yoga teacher. But before Harry could get the other one, he was hit across the head with a letter from the Improper Use of Magic Office and knocked the floor unconscious.