Huh? What the hell? My mind reeled as suddenly I was displaced from the comfort of my bed, and onto a very uncomfortable hard and cold floor. I'd just been about to fall asleep in my urban home in Florida, when suddenly I'm very aware that my bed is not where I am. After all, what bed feels like a slab of ice and harder than a church pew bench?
Sitting up weakly, I try to get my bearings. I blink at my surroundings, trying to adjust my eyes to the dark, and make out a softly snoring lump on a couch, that may not really have the fair right to be called a couch anymore really, considering how threadbare and about to collapse under the weight of whatever said lump's weight was. At least the lump had an arm with a watch, so I know at least it's five minutes to midnight.
Shaking my head, I take in my surroundings, and know for a fact that something has to be off, because I can't understand how I only just now noticed that I'm in this poor excuse for a shack, in the middle of the worst storm imaginable, with a drafty breeze practically blowing everywhere. Shivering, I pulled the ratty blanket I had covering me as close to myself as possible, pushing my glasses closer to the bridge of my nose out of habit.
A particularly loud thunderclap caught my attention and the very walls actually shook, making me hope very much that the storm didn't just sweep us all away. Looking around again, in case I missed something, I noticed a fireplace not too far from where I was sitting, with smoldering potato chip bags in the grate, which weren't putting out any heat whatsoever, to no real great surprise on my part.
What did come to my surprise, however, is when the fat lump's watch gave a single beep, signifying midnight, and suddenly a huge booming crash smashed against the door, making the whole shack, if it were possible, shake even more than before. I stood up quickly, trying to ignore the fact that doing so, caused the blood to rush to my head, making me feel fuzzy in the head for a moment, and took up a place behind the edge of the fireplace. I don't know what's going on here, but anything that could make a great boom like that and shake a building, no matter how rickety it seemed, should obviously be something to be wary of.
I was obviously alone in my sentiment though, because the lump only sat up, startled, only to jump in fright at the next boom, which brought down a rather large fat man who largely resembled the lump, er- boy, frozen stiff on the pathetic excuse for a couch. Following behind this rather large man with no neck and a face that seemed permanently disposed between switching between shades of red and purple, was a woman, whom I could only describe as a stick figure, with a really long giraffe neck.
Needless to say I kept out of sight of these people too, since I had no clue who they were, and if it so happened that whatever was about to smash the door down along with the rest of the four walls went after the three idiots first, then better chance for me to get the heck out of Dodge.
With one last resounding boom, the door fell in, revealing a walking brown overcoat with a beard, until the man behind the beard finally stooped down through the archway and into the room. Whoever this guy is, he's enormous! He stepped in, looked at the three apparent people frozen stiff with fear, even with the fat man holding a rifle. Lot of good it does him if he's just going to sit and stare without even aiming down the sights at all, not that I care too much. "Sorry abou' tha'," said the big guy with a heavy European accent that had my eyes popping out of my skull. Just where the hell am I? Despite all this I had to suppress a snicker as the man simply lifted up the flattened door and placed it back in its frame. The fact that he even bothered seems quite ludicrous to me, and considering the even more ridiculous situation I seem to have found myself in, I couldn't quite hold the snort of laughter in, that had everyone's attention turning to me in the sudden silence after the rather bold entrance.
Before I even had a chance to really say much of anything, the big man stepped up to me and said, "Well there you are Harry! It's good to see you again!" Frozen in shock at the man's familiarity, I simply stuttered out, "Wh-what?" I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if I'd ever seen this man in my life before. He'd be rather hard to miss or forget, not to mention he called me Harry? What's up with that? The man, for his part, gave me an odd look and said, "Well, you didn't expect me not to recognize the great Harry Potter when I see him did you? Spittin' Image of your Dad you are! 'Cept for the eyes, 'o course. You've got your mother's eyes."
I think that's about the point my mental train completely derailed off the tracks and took out a rail station as well as a few city blocks with it.