*** The
book in the title is not in reference to any known work, and if it resembles
such a work it is pure coincidence and not an attempt at plagiarism by Ms.
Rowling.
Chapter One
Harry Potter a young wizard, though
not necessarily one involved in the black arts, Wicca, Shamanism, Satanism, or
voodoo, but not necessarily not, because there is nothing wrong with it,
necessarily, depending on your beliefs, was sitting on a trunk in a rather
dingy corner of Kings Cross Station reflecting on his summer vacation. He had
been enjoying his holiday away from Hogwarts, the school he attends. When Harry
was not at school, he lived with his non-magical aunt, uncle and cousin,
sometimes called muggles. The word "muggle" is not derogatory; it simply
implies someone without magic. Being a muggle does not make you any less of
neither a person, nor does having magic make a person more evil than a
non-magical muggle.
Harry lived with his aunt, uncle, and
cousin on number 4 Privet Drive because a terrible tragedy had visited him at a
young age. His parents had been killed by another wizard. The Dursleys were fit
and able guardians of Harry, caring very much about his well-being. Harry's
Uncle Vernon was a large man, not because of sloth or laziness; he had
glandular condition that made it hard for him to lose weight. Harry didn't care
about Uncle Vernon's outer appearance, what mattered was the fact that he
worked everyday at his drill business to support his family. Harry's Aunt
Petunia stayed at home and ran the household. It's not that she couldn't have a
job, she chose not to, and finally, Dudley. Dudley was a bright, athletic
well-liked student. You could always count on him to stand up for someone being
picked on or to rescue a kitten out of a tree. It was no wonder he had been
voted class president six years running.
This morning, the Dursleys had dropped
Harry off at Platform 9 ¾ and had wished him the best of luck with his new
school year. Since then, he had been patiently waiting for the Hogwarts Express
to come and take him to his seventh and final year at school. "Harry!" someone
squealed. When he turned around, Harry saw that it was his very smart and
talented friend, Hermione. Aside from being quick and skilled at magic,
Hermione was also quite pretty. The fact that she is pretty is not mentioned in
order to quantify her. She does not need to be pretty in order to be pretty and
well liked; her talents and personality amount enough for that. Her looks were
simply mentioned in order to give a physical description, and not a very good
one at that, because beauty is truly in the eye of the beholder. If she had not
been as physically attractive as she was, that wouldn't have mattered; it would
have simply been the way her genes/deity/evolution made her.
"Hey, Hermione," said Harry as he
engulfed his friend in a completely platonic hug. The hug was completely
friendship oriented because Harry did not have feelings like that for Hermione.
In fact, Harry did not have feelings for any girl at Hogwarts. Harry, being so
involved in the quest to defeat Voldemort, had not yet questioned his sexuality
enough to come to a definite conclusion.
Harry next turned to his openly gay
best friend, Ron. Harry was perfectly all right with the fact that his best
friend was gay, because there was nothing wrong with that (unless you don't
believe so, then he's going to burn in Hell for all eternity). In fact, Harry
had been overjoyed when he had learned that Ron had found a life partner that
made him so happy. Ron followed none of the nasty stereotypes inflicted on the
homosexual community, he did not have AIDS, he did not have multiple partners,
and he always used condoms.
A/N Hey, I
know it's short. Tune in next chapter for the politically correct sorting hat,
the new Draco Malfoy, and a kindler, gentler Professor Snape. By the way, I am
not making fun of any of the things in my story, just the controversy that surrounds
them (eg. Slash fics, Is Harry Potter satanic?, etc.).
P.S. This
is the slightly re-edited version.
