Harry Potter: Extreme Edition

Chapter 1

Fat Albus strolled down Privet drive in his zoot suit, kicking homeless people to prove his absolute fucking dominance. His boots were clogged with flesh, his hands stained in blood, the corners of his mouth perked into a grin. Today had been a good day. But as he walked farther, he became more and more agitated at the streetlights around him, which had began to burn his retinas away. Without hesitation, he whipped out his shotgun, and fired one shell into every lamp on the block, effectively plunging the neighborhood into darkness.

"That about does it," he said to himself, because there was nobody else to talk to. As he stood there, reveling in his eminence, a cat brushed against his leg, and then proceeded to mount him.

"I am a pussy magnet, McGonagall, but not like that," he said, before punting the feline sky high. As it fell back down from space, it seemed to fall more and more slowly, until it landed softly on the ground, and then transformed into an old lady. Everybody has bedded her.

"Fuck you. Where's the boy?" McGonagall lit up a cigarette.

"Hagrid is on his way with him." He snatched her cigarette and took a puff.

"Fuck you. I don't trust him." McGonagall took a swig of vodka.

"Hagrid is a real nigga. Trust me on this." He punched her in the stomach, making her projectile vomit all of the hard liquor she had drank into his mouth, turning her drunken stupor into his. "You shouldn't be drinking on the job."

The two suddenly jolted upward at the sound of German power metal booming from a distance. The music grew louder and louder, and worse and worse. The noise was seemingly unexplainable until a '77 Chevy Nova drifted around the street corner at 70mph, driving on anything but the fucking road. It passed relentlessly through fence after fence, kicking dirt onto everything in sight, demolishing everything it came into contact with, before promptly stopping next to the two.

Out popped a fat fuck holding a bag from which various cries and whimpers echoed. "I got all the babies!" He smiled, revealing some teeth, and farted.

Fat Albus stood there dumbfounded for an entire goddamn minute before he decided to speak. "Not only are you late, you look like Santa Claus on meth, and babies? What do you mean, 'babies'?"

Hagrid looked down at the bag, and then shifted his gaze toward the ground, now afraid to make eye contact. "I...uh, got the babies you requested."

Fat Albus took a step toward him. "There was one baby. One. Not two. Not three. Not more. One." Fat Albus took another step. "Do you know math? Know what numbers are? How they work?"

Hagrid swallowed, and remained silent.

Fat Albus took another step. "You were listening, right? I mean, you know how to do your job. And what it is. You're a good worker, right? And you understand English, right?"

Hagrid began sweating profusely, and remained silent.

Fat Albus took one more step. The two were now exchanging breath. "Then, friend, what the fuck are you doing with this sack of shit?" He pressed his forehead to Hagrid's. "Are you a fucking idiot? Do you think I'm going to settle for this shit?"

"No sir. No sir. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Fat Albus took a step back. "I'm going to have nice, nice dreams about what your punishment will be. And then I'll wake up and have a great day." He smiled at Hagrid as he snatched the bag from him, and began to rummage through it, undeterred by the piercing screams from inside. After a couple of minutes and 4 discarded babies, he found the right one, scarred as it should be. He pulled him out and dropped the bag.

"Sectum sempra," he said, waving his wand at the bag, which then split into two halves, as if it had been sliced apart. Then it exploded. There was silence. "McGonagall, slash their tires, dump out the rest of your juice onto the engines and light it up. No half-measures. We want them to know to take care of this kid."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you." He fucked her on the spot.

*to be continued*