Harry Potter – Alternate ending.
July 1997.
"Harry – yer're a wizard."
There was a stunned silence as everyone took in what had just been said. Then Harry spoke up.
"No, I'm not!"
"Yeah, yer are!" Hagrid said earnestly. "I promise! I've got so many secrets to show yer! I can take yer to the Chamber of Secrets, teach you spells and stuff..."
Harry was shaking his head. He was beginning to run out of patience with this oaf. "Hagrid, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a normal orphan–"
But Hagrid cut him off. "Come with me, and I'll take yer to a magical place, full of elves, and...fairies, and...sequels..." But Harry still looked unconvinced. Hagrid jumped up and started shouting, a wild desperation in his eyes. "Yer'll go there or I'll drag yer meself! Yer'll get a wand, yer'll get a goddamned owl, and it'll deliver yer're mail, and that's that and yer'll enjoy it, yer bowl-haired little piece of..."
Harry just kept staring, and wondered when he was finally going to shut up. Hagrid began to trail off into silence, clearly seeing that his tactics were not making Harry warm up to the idea of this wonderful world. Hagrid's shoulders slumped, and Harry saw something melt in Hagrid's eyes. Perhaps his determination.
"Ok, then," he muttered, walking over to the door. He opened it, and was about to leave when he turned back, his eyes clearly imploring Harry to have a change of heart. "Just so yer know, yer could have been great, Harry." He gave him one last, long, searching look, and then was gone. In through the open door rushed a dense, strange silence, a silence punctuated only by the waves slapping at the shore outside the building. A silence that seemed to fill the air around them. A silence that Uncle Vernon had to break with a few civilized words.
"What the bloody hell," he yelled, "was that?!"
Hagrid turned to face the thin man he had come to see. The night sky was alight with stars, and they all played a part in illuminating the face he was looking at.
"My master," he said, in a refined, cultured voice unlike the rough, tough accent he took when dealing with potential candidates, "the Potter boy would not come with me. He proved to be very...unimaginative."
"A pity," whispered the harsh, cold voice of his commander. "He could have been of great... value to us in our line of work. I sensed potential in him, and if he was allowed to blossom, a great man could have been born. "
"I know that, my lord," Hagrid mumbled, watching his suddenly fascinating feet. "But there will be others. It's not as though he was the only one to resist the charms of adventure and fighting for the forces of good."
"I understand that perfectly, Hagrid. But I am a busy man, and so I must leave you here. As you said, there will be other boys easily led astray. Go, then, and seek them out."
He turned his pale face away, and Adolf Hitler walked into the darkness.
Recovered from the files of J.K. Rowling.