As much as I would like to, I obviously do not won the characters or places of Harry Potter. I do, however, own the character of Alfric Scroggie, so please, try not to plagiarize.
I hate Harry Potter Fanfics with a burning passion. They are all written by naïve twelve year olds that have too much free time, and a limited imagination. All the fanfics that are written about Harry Potter have one of the following as their plotline:
Someone with the last name Potter, Malfoy, Black or Weasly coming to the school and trying to just fit in and not be judged because certain persons who share their last name might be evil.
Harry falls in love with Ginny.
Harry falls in love with Draco.
Hermione falls in love with one of the previously mentioned characters.
Now, to me it seems that all these ideas have been reused so many times that there is no original HP fanfic left. Therefore, I have swallowed my pride, and all my hatred for HP fanfics, and decided to write one.
Our story begins with a man named Alfric Scroggie. I am a mean old man; with nose hair's so long that people often confused them for my beard. I live alone in West Maple Street in Maldon, Britain. I am a writer, and I hate kittens. That has nothing to do with our story, but I felt you all should know that.
As I was saying I am a writer, and one of my favorite books to read was Harry Potter. Many a night had I spent laying in bed imagining that I went to Hogwarts! Oh how I wished and hoped that there was such a place! But even if there was such a place, I was 27, and far too old to attend. But, it never hurt to dream, now did it?
Well, on one very rainy day, my dream came true. The local supermarket was introducing a new product: A machine that would put you into any movie, book or TV that you wanted! So, after saving all my pocket change for 4 years, I was finally able to afford one. I took my shiny new toy home to play with it. Now, I could have gone into any story with this machine. I could have put myself into Basic Instinct to be with Sharon Stone. Or I could have gone and fought off the orcs in The Lord of The Rings. But no, I chose to put myself into the story I loved the most: Harry Potter.
The machine was mystical, it was marvelous, and it was shaped like a duck. Now, please don't ask me why it was shaped like a duck, it just was. As I stepped into this duck-shaped machine, I prayed that it wasn't some cruel prank and that when I hit the "GO" button, the machine would explode, killing me instantly. I sat down on the little chair that was provided, and entered in my destination: Hogwarts! I took one final deep breath and hit the button labeled "GO"