"Son of the Joker"

By Loki Palmer

Author's Note: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm dedicating this story to DZ2, whose one-shot "Harry's Last Laugh" is a minor inspiration for this, and, of course, to all of my other fans. For the record, this story is not a true crossover, in spite of the title or whatever references may be made to characters that we all know and love. I hope you enjoy this!

Chapter 1

Harry Potter had saved the Wizarding World a total of three times. The first time was as a baby when his mother had given her life to protect him. The second time was in his first year, when he had stopped Voldemort, in Professor Quirrell's body, from getting his hands on the Philosopher's Stone. The third time was when he had killed off Slytherin's Basilisk, then, using the fang that had stabbed him, he destroyed a diary that had belonged to a young Tom Marvolo Riddle – known as Lord Voldemort in the present time.

Did any of this mean anything to the family of Muggles – the Dursleys – who had taken him in under their roof? In spite of the small family connection – Aunt Petunia was Harry's maternal aunt – no. They had kept him in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years of his life, moving him to a bedroom when the flock of Hogwarts letters started to arrive. Though the beatings had stopped, their attitude about him did not change. In their eyes, he was a freak of nature to avoid at all costs.

The summer chores continued on their merry way – whether it was gardening, cleaning, cooking – he did it. Over the years, he had become an excellent chef. Considering that he spent most of his year at Hogwarts, Petunia could not blame his excellent cooking for Dudley's massive growth in weight. Uncle Vernon himself was the size of a walrus, so it must be something in the genes.

Harry had to try his hardest not to burst a gut laughing at the size of his cousin this summer. The summer before the second year, Dudley looked like a pig in a wig. Now, Dudley's girth was so massive that if he laid down on a beach, Greenpeace would mistake him for a whale and try to toss him back in the ocean.

When they got home, Petunia made the announcement that she was putting Vernon and Dudley on a diet. This commandment met with howls of protest.

"Petunia, we're not fat," said Vernon. "We just have big appetites."

"When you eat, Vernon, there is supposed to be a point at which your body tells you that it has eaten enough. Have you ever paid attention to your body's protests?"

Vernon hung his head.

"I thought not, Vernon, and it seems to me that Dudley does not pay attention either. It surprises me to think that neither of you have had any heart attacks, but if the two of you continue eating like this, a heart attack would not be long in coming. The both of you need to eat a better diet and watch how much you eat. Now that I have said something, I have another announcement. Harry needs to eat more food as well."

"WHAT?!" said Vernon. "The boy's going to eat us out of house and home!"

Even Harry was spinning his head in some disbelief. As far as he could recall, this was the first time Aunt Petunia had referred to him by name.

"He has a name, Vernon! If we fed Harry small portions like we have before, don't you think someone may notice and ask questions? What if someone calls the police?"

"I have good lawyers."

"Even your lawyers would run the other way when they heard of charges of child abuse and neglect, Vernon, but my point remains. If you do not accept my two proposals, the kitchen will remain closed to the both of you."

Both Vernon and Dudley surrendered; a potential loss of the kitchen was too terrifying to contemplate. She had made them an offer they could not refuse.

~SON OF THE JOKER~

For his birthday, Harry received a Pocket Sneakoscope from Ron (it lit up if there was anyone untrustworthy around), a monstrous book from Hagrid, and, from Hermione, a Broomstick Servicing Kit – a most welcome addition, as one of his prize possessions was a Nimbus 2000 he used to play Seeker in the Wizarding Sport of Quidditch.

Thinking about Hermione and her wonderful present started Harry thinking, "Alas, puberty must be hitting me at this point in time. If only Hermione could service my broomstick sometime ... and I'm not talking about my Nimbus! OH!"

That night, he had several inappropriate dreams about Hermione. During the same night, she was having several inappropriate dreams about him ...

~SON OF THE JOKER~

The next morning, Harry found Uncle Vernon in the living room.

"Uncle Vernon? My school gave me a form that needs a signature ..."

Vernon took the form. "Ah, and I expect you need my signature, right?"

"Yes, please, if it's no problem."

Vernon looked at it. "What is this Hogsmeade Village?"

"It's a village near to my school." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Doing his research beforehand had its advantages.

Vernon gave it some thought. "If everything goes well for the remainder of the summer, I'll sign your ruddy form. I think I should give you some fair warning: Marge is coming to visit for a week, so I will expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Of course. So far, nothing bad has happened."

"For which I am grateful, and I expect it to stay that way."

As he went back to his room, Harry suppressed an inward groan. "Anyone but Marge," he thought. "She's horrible!"

"Harry," he heard Hermione's voice say in his mind, "what do you mean, she's horrible?"

Harry looked around his room, but saw no one. "That's strange ... it sounded like Hermione was talking to me ... it was like she was right next to me here, yet I'm not seeing her ... she did say it was not a good sign to hear voices no one else could hear."

"Yes, I did say that, Harry ... the problem is, I'm hearing your voice in my head, and I don't know what's causing it."

"Good thing or bad thing?"

"I don't know yet, but not knowing the nature of this is driving me mad."

"I can imagine."

"Quite. So, Harry, back to my first question: what do you mean, Marge is horrible? Who is Marge?"

"She's Uncle Vernon's sister. All the time I have known her, she has criticized me ... one of her bulldogs ran after me once, and she wouldn't call him off."

"The bulldog didn't bite you, did he?"

"No, he just chased me up a tree. I don't know how I'm going to survive the week."

"There's no need to be so pessimistic, Harry. Try thinking positive."

"Okay, Hermione. I'm positive that I'm not going to survive this week."

He sensed a mental groan from Hermione, though there was a small chuckle with it. "That was not what I meant by thinking positive."

"Considering what he had to go through, Hermione," said another voice, "it's no surprise Massah Harry has a hard time thinking positive . Look at the po' boy's track record. At least Massah Harry don't have to worry about no Dursley crackers locking him up in no owl cage .. .nobody knows the trouble I've seen ... nobody knows my sorrow ..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Great ... now I can certify that I am crazy. Not only am I hearing Hermione's voice, I'm hearing Hedwig's voice too. Oy, gevalt ..."

"Nobody knows the trouble I've seen ... glory, hallelujah ..."

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Hermione?"

"You're right. This is weird."

"Am I crazy, Hermione?"

"I think the jury's still out on that question."

~SON OF THE JOKER~

"There's my little neffy-poo! Ripper, come up here and give Duddy some kisses!"

Marge's bulldog came up and gave Dudley some enthusiastic kisses. Harry came back into the living room after he carried Marge's suitcase to the guest room.

"Oh, you're still here, are you?"

"Yes."

"Don't say 'yes,' in that ungrateful tone, boy. Bloody good of my brother to keep you. If you ended up on my doorstep, boy, I would have sent you straight to an orphanage."

"At least living in an orphanage would have been better than suffering in this hellhole," thought Harry.

"Maybe, Harry, but they rationed the orphan's food in the orphanages," thought Hermione. "Remember Oliver Twist's famous line that got him expelled?"

" 'Please, sir, I want some more?' "

"That's the one. I didn't know you read literature, Harry."

"It's one of my few solaces out here. That, and thinking about you."

Harry could sense a blush creeping onto Hermione's face. "Aw, aren't you a dear."

~SON OF THE JOKER~

It was toward the end of Marge's week-long stay.

"An excellent nosh, Petunia, just excellent."

"You would have to thank Harry for that; he's the one who cooked it."

Marge's widened eyes looked at Harry. "You cooked this?"

Harry gave her a happy nod.

Marge raised her glass in salute. "My compliments to the chef. Who knows, you may grow up to be a fine chef one day, and you've come a longer way than your parents. What did you say his father did, Vernon?"

"Unemployed, as far as I can guess."

"Ah, one of those drunken bums who sucked off the government's proverbial teat?"

Harry felt a wave of anger. "That's a lie."

"What was that, boy?"

"MY FATHER WASN'T A DRUNK!"

With that yell, Marge's glass exploded.

"Harry," said Vernon, holding his hands up in a pleading gesture. "I think it's about time you went to bed, eh?"

"Oh, Vernon, don't worry – I have a firm grip. You, boy – clean it up."

"Yes, ma'am."

As Harry swept up the remains of her glass, Marge continued to talk, saying, "You must not blame yourself for how the boy turned out, Petunia. You see this same phenomenon all the time with dogs – if there's something wrong with the bitch, there's something wrong with the pup."

Harry threw down his towel. "SHUT UP! YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT MY PARENTS! NOTHING!"

The shockwave of Accidental Magic that blew out of Harry blew out the electricity in 4 Privet Drive. Everyone then heard a voice singing:

"Hush, little Harry, don't you cry;

Daddy's going to make sure the world will die!

Put your enemies all in a cell;

Make the buggers wish that they were in Hell ..."

The source of the voice revealed himself. He was a tall man, face painted white with a red ear-to-ear grin, and wearing a purple tuxedo. He burst out into maniacal laughter, but stopped upon noticing nobody else was laughing.

"Wow, tough crowd, and that was a good parody, if I do say so myself."

"I thought it was good," said another man who had entered. This one had a half scarred face.

"Then why weren't you laughing?"

"I was; you just couldn't hear me over your insane cackle."

"Ah, details, details, details. Not important right now, my dear friend."

Vernon's face had gone red. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU FREAKS? I DEMAND YOU GET OUT OF HERE!"

The first stranger turned to him. "Vernon Dursley ... I can't believe you don't remember me, because I sure as Hellfire remember you. When was it that I first met you – your wedding or my own? Either way, Lily and I remember you as one of the most unpleasant characters we ever met. Even though Petunia IS Harry's maternal aunt, Lily and I left specific instructions in our joint will that Harry must NEVER go to you, so –"

THWACK! Here he hit Vernon with his cane across the face, saying, "– WHO LEFT HIM HERE, YOU BIGOTED, CORPULENT, WALRUS-SIZED SON OF A BITCH?!" THWACK! "WHO LEFT HIM HERE?!" THWACK! "WHO?!" THWACK! "WHO?!" THWACK! "WHO?! ANSWER ME!"

Petunia could not bear the sight of Vernon's beating. "IT WAS DUMBLEDORE!"

The beating paused. "Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts? Are you sure about this, Petunia?"

Petunia gave him a fearful nod.

The stranger shook his head as he let out a sigh. "I should have known that Manipulative Old Goat would be behind this unfortunate situation." He got up from his position over Vernon's bleeding face, and looking at Harry, gave his face some loving strokes. "My boy ... it's been so long since I've last seen my boy ... you have grown so much since that fateful night .. Harry ... I don't know if you remember me or not, but ... I'm your father ... Sirius Black ..."

"I wouldn't go for the phone if I were you," said the second stranger to the Dursleys. "Young Harry knocked out the electricity, so it doesn't matter if you want help or not."

Harry did not know what to say. "But ... I thought my father was James Potter."

"No, my dear son ... James Potter is your godfather, not to mention he has a half scarred face."

"It's a pleasure to see you after so long, kid," said James.

"So, Dad ... if my name is not Harry James Potter, what is it?"

"Your full name, my son, is Harry Damien Diabolitus Black."

"Think about it, Siri," said James. "It could be worse. If he was born a Dursley, he would be an H-DEE-DEE-DEE!"

The two of them laughed.

"Okay, James, how about you go up and get Harry's things? We'll be leaving soon. While he's gone, Harry, look at me ... this will take a couple seconds ..."

Sirius Black looked at Harry's memories, in particular the ones dealing with 4 Privet Drive. His face reddened with anger upon seeing the way they treated his boy.

"You ... people ... disgust me ... You think of my boy, who never did you any wrong, as some kind of ffffffffffffffffreak ... you treat him worse than a slave ... AND YOU BEAT HIM?!"

With this yell, he flew into a rage, hitting the assembled Dursleys several times with his cane. Ripper tried to defend his mistress from the attack, but failed as Sirius kicked him into a wall.

"Siri, I've got Harry's things," said James.

"Harry, run and check that he has everything."

Harry ran up to his room. It was bare. James was thorough in emptying the place. Harry ran back.

"There's nothing left."

"Good ... because I don't plan to come back here ever again. Vernon Dursley, you remind me so much of my bigoted Father ... I HATED HIM! Oh ... one last thing I must add ..."

Vernon's bloody face looked up. "What's ... that?"

"Remember, Vernon: everything must burn in the end ... toodle-oo!"

As the trio Apparated out, Sirius pushed a button, activating a bomb that James placed under their dining table.

BOOM! 4 Privet Drive and the Dursleys were no more ... than a pile of ashes ...

Author's Note: Well, I sure enjoyed that. I think this can turn into an entertaining story. Read and review!

Smiles and laughter,

Loki Palmer