A/N: If you don't have an open minded sense of humor this story is not for you. What I've done is basically taken parts from the fist movie and book and spoofed them a little. I acknowledge that I have no right or claim to any of the characters or places mentioned and am just doing this for entertainment purposes.
If you still seem to have a problem, get in your car (or take a cab) get out a a beautiful scenic cliff side (don't for get to thank or tip your driver) go to the edge, take your last breath of fresh air as you proceed to jump off. Thank you.
----Night had fallen upon Private Drive. Street lamps glowing upon the heavy mist gave the illusion of a yellow brick road, except the tall figure that seemed to appear out of no where, wasn't on his way to the Emerald City; he was on his way to number four Private Drive. He gave an inward laugh at the street name. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a silver instrument. Aiming it at the nearest street lamp, he gave a good toss, knocking out the first light; then it boomeranged around to the others. Catching it once more, he blew and wiped his fingers on his robes, then placed it back in his robes.
Looking down, he noticed a cat scratching and licking itself. "Yo!" the old man called down. The cat looked up at him. Standing on it's hind legs it began to change form into an elderly woman. "What have I told you about licking yourself?!" McGonnagle, the cat, looked down. "Sorry Dumbledore. Damnit!" Taking out her wand she began to remove the left over fur on her lower, lower torso. "So are the rumors true Albus?" she asked. "Yes. Voldemort was seen wearing a pink bra and G-string."
"No no. About the Potter boy."
"Oh! Yes. The good and the bad." He began walking further down the street.
"The good?" McGonnagle asked.
"Yes. Voldemort filled his monthly murder quota. He should be at rest for a bit." He sighed and smiled. "Then what's the bad?" McGonnagle pressed on. "Have you been to the Potter's?!" he cried. "Voldemort painted the house with Lily and James!"
Just then a loud roaring noise filled the night air, followed by the sound of backfire. Landing with surprising grace, McGonnagle held up a score card with a perfect ten. "Hagrid!" she smiled. Slipping off the bike, the extremely tall form of Rubeus Hagrid stepped forward. "Woah!" he cried, noticing the hand gun Dumbledore had pulled on him. "Put that away Albus!" McGonnagle scolded. "Sorry," he apologized, pocking the gun. "I thought it was another gang war."
"I would have been here sooner if I hadn't gotten an F.U.I." Hagrid rolled his eyes. They stared at him blankly. "Flying Under the Influence," he informed. "Where's the baby," Dumbledore asked. "Right here," he reached down into the attached side car and pulled out a little bundle. "Little tyke threw up just as we were flying over Bristol. The Berlin football team won." He handed the sleeping baby over to him. Dumbledore took out a piece of paper from his robes and tucked it into the folds of the blanket. It read: 'Umm, this is yours.' Placing the baby on the step he rang the doorbell and they all ran, laughing.
----Ten years later----
----That baby, now a boy known as Harry Potter woke up to the sound of a door rattling. "Get up!" his aunt knocked on his bedroom door. It wasn't so much a room as a storage closet for certain types of…erm…toys. As he was about to get up his fat cousin Dudley, a fat little boy resembling a pig with blond hair, flung open the door shoved something in Harry's mouth, took a picture and ran off. Removing the item, he gave it a look to see what it was and tossed the certain item aside. "Very funny…"
Entering the kitchen, he rubbed his scar. "Oh will you get off that already?!" Aunt Petunia scolded. "I wouldn't have the stupid thing if Uncle Vernon could see past his stomach and not have stepped on me with his golf cleats!" Harry retorted. Aunt Petunia gave a venomous stare and pointed at the cooking bacon. Doing his usual morning routine, Dudley ran into the living room to count his birthday presents. "How many are there?" he demanded of his dad. "Thirty-six, counted them me' self," he smiled. "Thirty-six?! But last year I had thirty-seven!" Dudley shouted, outraged. "Well some of them are a bit bigger than last year," Uncle Vernon tried to reason. When Dudley continued to complain, Harry interjected. "I'll tell you what," he began, "How about I take one of your gifts and break it over your head? That way you'll have thirty-eight." They all glared at him. Harry sighed and shrugged in a well-I-tried sort of way and continued cooking the bacon. "Fine," Uncle Vernon patted his son's cheek. "While we're out today at the zoo, we'll buy you two new presents."
"Or to save money-"
"Enough boy!"
Hopping in the car, Harry and found himself on his way to the zoo. Arriving, a gust of wind picked up a school girls skirt. "I love you," Harry said as if in a trance, beginning to follow her. "Boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted, getting his attention back.
----Entering the Reptile House, Dudley ran right to a glass cage with a boa in it, pressing his pig snout against the glass. Grossed out by the strings of snot also being pushed onto the glass; Harry began to concentrate on how much he wished the glass was clean. As soon as this thought occurred, the glass disappeared. Shocked, Dudley let out a scream as he fell in. "Sweet!" gaped Harry.
"What happened?!" Uncle Vernon roared.
"What?" Harry exclaimed, trying to loosen his uncle's grip on his ear. "Aside from me being grossed out? Ah!" he was thrown to the ground as Uncle Vernon went to help Dudley. Noticing a presence next to him, Harry looked over to find him self face to face with the escaped boa. For a while they seemed as if to be in a staring contest, for neither blinked while they wondered what would happen next. The snake suddenly grinned, sprouted two hands to give him thumbs-up and slithered off. Shaking his head in hopes of some clarity, Harry followed the family out to the car.
"I told you!" Harry continued to proclaim, "Dudley had goobered the glass all up and it was grossing me out so I wished really hard that the glass was clean and it disappeared. It was like magic!"At that word, Uncle Vernon became more enraged. "There's no such thing as magic!" he spat, shoving him into the closet. "Try telling that to David Blaine," Harry muttered to himself. Wincing, he didn't even bother to see what he landed on. Not even expecting dinner, he just laid back and went to sleep.
----Awaking the next morning, Harry snuck out of his room and down the hall to the front door, where the mail lay in waiting. Harry always made sure to wake early the third Saturday of the month because this was when the bills were delivered and Harry loved to steam open the seams and change the numbers, especially on the electric bill because with each high bill another one of Dudley's electronics would get taken away. Rifling through the letters he noticed an off color on and it was...addressed to him! Mr. Harry Potter, A Certain Room Under the Stairs, 3 Private Drive. Reading it over and over, making sure his eyes wenrn't just playing a trick on him he finally went to open it. Just then the sound of bowling balls thundered down the hall steps. Dudley was awake.
"Oh no you don't!" he shouted grabbing at the pile. "I know you're not checking for bombs! You're tampering with the bills and that's illegal," he gave a smug knowing smile. "No," Harry corrected, "What is illegal here is your face." He laughed, slapping his knee. "You have the right not to remain ugly. You fail!" He began to laugh even harder. "Burn!" he pointed at Dudley. Still laughing, he went back to opening his letter. Dudley gasped. Grabbing the letter he began hopping back up the stairs. Harry stopped to watch him for a second. It was amazing how fast he could master the stairs. It was like watching an over weight mountain goat. Finally giving chase up the stairs Harry stopped next to Dudley at Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's door. "Mum! Dad!" Dudley shouted. "Harry's got a letter!" They came bursting out of their room each grabbing for the letter. "What is it?" Harry asked, frowning. "Nothing," Aunt Petunia managed to reply after several horror struck moments. "Just a magazine subscription," she took the letter and headed down stairs, Uncle Vernon and Dudley following.
----Standing in the living room doorway, Harry saw that Uncle Vernon was burning the letter. Just then, a loud rumbling noise filled the room as it began to shake. Hundreds of letters began to our down the chimney into...the fire. When all was quiet again, Harry could hear feint voices arguing on the roof. "Idiot! You were only supposed to drop a few letters! Now they're all burning!" The voice sounded oddly like a 'hoot'.
More letters began continued to come that day. Aunt Petunia set to baking, what she usually did when she was stressed, only to crack open the eggs to have letters pop out. She got out the milk which was liquid when she held it but as she went to pour, letters spilled out. After that, she went to Vernon.
Enraged, and turning a new shade of red Crayola hadn't even invented yet, Vernon began packing suitcases a throwing them in the car. Finally herding everyone in the car he started it up and squealed out of the drive down the street.
----After several hours of driving, they finally came upon a dilapidated shanty on a rough stretch of rocky beach. Yelling at everyone to get out and grab their things, Uncle Vernon stormed up to the shanty door and pounded on it. A few moments later, a confused looking Cuban came to the door. "Can I help you?" he asked, with each word, cigar smoke filtered out. "We want a room, any room!" the Cuban looked Uncle Vernon over before shrugging why-not and led them to the rock edge. "Hop on," he said. "What?"! Uncle Vernon sounded outraged, looking down at the raft and the raging sea. "Don't worry," the keeper aided. "This thing got me all the way from Cuba to here. With that, he placed the cigar back in his mouth and took the luggage.
All the way across, Uncle Vernon let out little whimpers and Aunt Petunia clung to Dudley with white face and knuckles. Harry meanwhile just laid on his back hoping to be swept off.
Finally arriving at the shabby looking hut on the rocks, the keeper was nice enough to help them with their luggage. When they were all situated Harry heard the keeper shout, "I'm coming Elian!" as he paddled away on the raft.
----Night cam quickly. When all were tucked into bed or on the couch, Harry sat awake, staring out the window, looking at the moon when he jumped. Dudley's watch beeped mid-night.Harry stopped following the moon's position when he realized that he could have just looked at Dudley's watch. Drawing a cake in the dirt on the floor, he blew on the dirt candles making a wish when a loud pounding rattled the door. Harry grabbed his blanket and hid in the corner.
With a crash, the door came caving in and a giant form stood in the doorway. "Sorry 'bout that," the voice boomed. "Couldn't find the doorbell." Uncle Vernon stood on the steps with a shot gun in hand. "I demand that you leave at once sir, you are breaking and entering." The giant walked over to him. "Dry up Dursley you great prune." With that Uncle Vernon pulled the trigger on;y to release a flag with the word 'bang' printed on it. Grunting in frustration, he threw the gun aside.
The giant looked behind Uncle Vernon. "Well, it's been a while since I've seen you Harry. How have you been?" he grinned. Aunt Petunia's face dropped. "I'm Harry's aunt." The giant squinted then recoiled a bit. "Sorry ma'am." Walking further into the hut, he noticed the slim figure with the blanket over his head. "Ah! There he is!" he inched closer. "Come out Harry." Harry shook his head. "I know you're Harry," with that he began to tickle him. "Stop! Stop!" Harry pleaded after a while, removing the blanket. "It's me! It's me!" he grinned, bouncing on his heels. "Thought so," the giant took out a lollipop and handed it to him. Harry unwrapped it fervently.
"Who are you?" Harry asked between licks.
"Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of Drinks and Dangerous Creatures at Hogwarts," he smiled proudly. "Hogwarts?" Harry asked puzzled. "Sure you know all about Hogwarts," Hagrid gave him a look. "Well no...I know about regular warts..."
"No, no, no," Hagrid waved it off. "Hogwarts! It's a school of magic!" He took a breath. "Have you even made things happen? Things you couldn't explain?" he gave him a knowing look. "Well, there was this time when I saw a picture of Kate Moss..."
"No, no, no. You're a Jew Harry."
"What? I can't be a, a Jew," Harry stammered.
"What?! Of course not!" You're a wizard! Sorry, me' speech isn't that good." Hagrid noticed Dudley trying to climb the book shelf to get away. Pointing his pink lacy umbrella at the boy, he sprouted goats feet. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon screamed. "Wow! That is so ironic!" Harry stated. Hagrid took Harry out of the hut with him, handing him a letter.