A/N: Hey guys! Yup, I am back after a pretty long hiatus caused by lack of ability to access the story manager! Well, I'm back and able to upload stories and chapters now, which makes me SUPER HAPPY, and now I have a new Harry Potter fic up. I'd like to say that while I did most of the writing, my sister MoppyTheMop1 and I both wrote this, taking turns, and it was her idea. Umm... what else? I'm sure there was more... Oh well. Enjoy! Review if you liked it or have any constructive criticism!

Title: I Don't Think I'm High

Category: Harry Potter

Rating: T

Summary: Harry was hanging around in the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive, when all of a sudden, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia start being... Nice? To Harry, of all people? What the heck is going on here? Harry's thirteen, so it's between second and third year. AU

Genre: Humor/Parody

One beautiful, sunny afternoon of summer, where the birds were singing merrily and the sun was smiling like a creeper while wearing black sunglasses and a hat, which makes no sense, since wouldn't the glasses and hat catch on fire and disintegrate because of the heat?

Anyway, one beautiful, sunny afternoon, where the birds were singing merrily and the sun was smiling like a creeper while wearing black sunglasses and a hat, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, supposed heretic for saying Voldemort was back, was sitting on his bed in the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive and staring at his snowy owl Hedwig as she preened her feathers with Herbal Essences Drama Clean shampoo, "to get light, lush feathers with all the lather, but without all of the gunk". Suddenly, Harry's head shot up as he heard the booming sound of Uncle Vernon's thunder thighs as he stomped his big, beefy, hairy feet and dragged his flabby arse up the stairs.

Oh, crap! thought Harry as he cowered on his bed and prepared himself to get yelled at for something that wasn't his fault, because Uncle Vernon is a child abuser, as well as a big, fat, mean, poopy-pants!

The doorknob turned clockwise, slowly and dramatically, and Uncle Vernon yanked the door open with a BANG! Harry dared to look at his face. It was, surprisingly, not contorted in rage, or any color ranging from red to blue. Harry's uncle, for once, was looking at him with a neutral expression on his face. Then, things got even freakin' weirder.

Uncle Vernon actually...

smiled.

OMG, I think I'm going into shock!

Harry gasped like a dramatic actress and stood up in surprise with his hand to his mouth, which was shaped like an O. Vernon, with that very creepy smile on his face and ignoring the fact that Harry looked like he might pass out, spread his arms wide and forced Harry into a hug. Harry, feeling very disturbed, wrenched his body out of Vernon's grasp and ran away, jumping out the window in his escape. Just before he could hit the ground, therefore accidentally committing suicide, Hermione appeared and used Wingardium Leviosa to turn Harry's freefall to the ground into a gentle floating downwards.

"Ah! Hermione, why are you here?" Harry asked, feeling very confused.

"I was just wondering if you could give me some marijuana- I mean! Um, if you were doing alright!" she corrected hurriedly.

"Oh, well, I'm fine."

"Then, why'd you jump out the window?" Hermione asked, pointing to the window, which now had a large, Harry Potter-shaped crack in it and would probably cost a ton of money to replace.

"I think Uncle Vernon was trying to hug me..." But Harry wasn't sure, because that was pretty much the only thing he could've been doing, beside suffocating him, but let's face it, Uncle Vernon didn't hug freaks. In fact, he tried to avoid it as much as possible.

Hermione scoffed. "Why would he want to hug you? Harry, in case you didn't notice, because you are a retard, your uncle hates you."

"How dare you make a fool of me? I am not retarded! I'm Harry Potter! Well, I know the fat man hates me, but maybe he was under a spell or some accidental magic on my part, because he not only tried to hug me, but he didn't scream at me, and he even smiled!" Hermione gasped at this.

"Oh! Speaking of which, I brought Ron with me, too! Ron!" Ron appeared out of midair and landed next to Hermione, clutching his pet rat Scabbers as the little animal tried to escape.

"Oh, hey, Ron! It's good to see you!" Harry exclaimed, rushing up to him. "But one question, Hermione..."

"Hm?"

"You said, 'speaking of which' even though Ron really doesn't have anything to do with the topic we were discussing."

Hermione just shrugged, which caused Harry and Ron to shrug too.

"Well, maybe I should go back inside, since it's almost lunchtime, and I have to cook for the Dursleys." said Harry.

"Maybe we should leave..." Ron and Hermione said reluctantly. Harry nodded.

"Bye, Harry!" Hermione flung herself at him and hugged him, secretly slipping her hand into Harry's back pocket and saying, "Ugh!" when she realized Harry's wallet wasn't there.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Well, your wallet wasn't in your pocket!"

"Hermione, the Dursleys don't let me keep pocket money. I'm only rich in the Wizarding World... But I can afford things! Can you afford things?" Harry's voice dropped to a whisper. "I can afford happiness.

"Besides, why would you want my wallet?"

"Oh... no reason..." said Hermione. She didn't want to tell him she had been stealing his money ever since they met in order to buy drugs and alcohol.

Ron shook Harry's hand and said, "See you later, mate."

Harry waved to them, said, "See you at King's Cross!" and went inside.

Harry stepped inside the completely normal, totally average, absolutely dull house and felt the cool air conditioning wash over him. As he got to the kitchen and prepared to make chicken sandwiches for the Dursleys' lunch, Vernon and Petunia finally noticed him from their seats at the dining table and said, "Harry!"

They sounded rather upset and Harry got scared. Did Vernon's uncanny good mood finally go away and they were going to beat him for being late? But this was not what was going to happen, for they said, "Why are you cooking for us?"

"Because… you always make me?" Harry pointed out uncertainly.

"No! Petunia prepared a fabulous salad, and of course there's enough for you too!" Uncle Vernon bellowed with a chuckle. "Come, sit down!" Harry sat down at the table and grabbed a fork tentatively. Just then, Dudley, being a disgusting, fat pig, rammed his whole plate's worth of food into his mouth and attempted to swallow. But he turned blue and choked. He was just about to die when Harry spoke up.

"Um… aren't you going to try and help him?"

"Oh, no." said the Dursley parents airily. "We don't like him anymore. You're our favorite son, Harry." Harry felt a horrible, cold tingle down his spine as they smiled that unsettling grin again. It was kind of like in a horror movie, when the murderer parts his or her lips and the teeth show, and you half expect all his or her teeth to be coated in the blood of the innocent.

"Uhhhh… okay…" Harry felt icy all over and just knew there were goose bumps on his arms and legs. "Well, like him or not, I can't just let my cousin die." He grabbed Dudley's thousand pound body and gave him a weak Heimlich. As Dudley's color restored, Harry saw that Vernon's and Petunia's eyes were shining in admiration and adoration.

"You saved him…" said Vernon.

"You saved our son, even though you hate him… You're so great, so good!" said Petunia.

"Hail Harry Potter! Thank you, so much!" said Dudley.

"Here, have some brandy that is totally not laced with a date-rape drug!" said Vernon.

"Ah… No thanks." said Harry, shoving the tankard out of his face. Harry ran out of the house and into the bright sunlight, and then, realizing that he was acting pretty stupid for a kid who planned to run away from home, went back inside to grab his belongings.

"Hey! You three are going to be really nice to me, right?" Harry asked the Dursleys from the doorway.

"Yes." They smirked that eerie smirk once more, and Harry shuddered when he experienced the paranormal chill yet again.

"Well, could you unlock the cupboard under the stairs so I can grab my stuff? Because I deserve stuff, because I'm Harry Potter."

"But of course!" Vernon inserted the small silver key into the lock and twisted. Harry gathered all his things, including his beloved broomstick, his potions kit, his books, and a few other magical odds and ends. After he had gathered his important school stuff, he rushed upstairs to his bedroom and grabbed Hedwig's cage, opening it.

"Hedwig, I need you to send a letter to Ron. I know you can find him, because you're the best owl in the world. Ready?" Hedwig hooted and fluttered her wings. Taking some parchment, ink, and a quill out of his bag, Harry wrote a quick note to his ginger-haired friend.

Dear Ron,

I'm running away from the Dursleys. Can you meet me in Diagon Alley? I will be standing next to Dervish and Banges, but will probably have the Invisibility Cloak on. Come as soon as possible.

Meet you there,

Harry

He tied the rolled up parchment to Hedwig's leg and released her at the open window.

And in fifteen minutes, Hedwig flew back to the window. "Did he get the note?" Harry asked the bird. She bobbed her head yes. So Harry ran down the steps, out the front door, and started out on his trip to Diagon Alley.