If you even read this: This is some sort of sequel to my first fic: Dudley Dursley and The Killing (humour) If you read it, it'll spare you slight confusion. You should read it! It's funny! http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=story-read&storyid=108500 And before I forget, this story's theme is FOOD. Thisis a food version fic of Hogwarts.

 Disclaimer-- I own nothing. JK Rowling does. Except for a couple of lines I stole from the Archie's Comics, which I am giving credit to, now. But one day, I *will* own everything. I will kidnap JKR and hide her in my laundry basket, along with Darth Maul. But until then--- I own nothing.



Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley: Battling Evil Ways and Idiocy.

Harry stared miserably at Dudley. It was September the 1st. Harry was about to start his 5th year. But he wasn't on the Hogwarts Express, unlike previous years. He was in Uncle Vernon's car, in the middle of a massive traffic jam, heading towards Smeltings.

Harry had received his letter that summer while staying over at the Weasley's. He had to go on an exchange program between Smeltings and Hogwarts. Smeltings, he had finally discovered, was a piggard school.

Dudley was a piggard. Harry had no idea what a piggard was, and the Dursleys refused to allow Harry to speak to Dudley after finding out about the letter.

The only thing that made Harry happy was the fact that Ron had been chosen as a prefect for Gryffindor. Ron was proud about it, although he tried not to look too pleased. Fred and George who had already opened their joke shop (Weasley's Wizard Wheezes) and they had spent the entire summer teasing Ron about following Percy's footsteps.

Uncle Vernon looked in the mirror, scowled at Harry and then went back to humming Drills, Drills, Drills (From-- Destiny's Chili). He was unusually quiet, but Harry was sure Uncle Vernon was not happy about him going to school with Dudley for the whole year.


It turned out Smeltings was a great, huge castle that looked a lot like Hogwarts. Harry marveled at its size. Hermione, who had been chosen for the program too, waved at Harry from the entrance. Dudley waved at a girl beside her, and called "Hermayonnaise!"

Hermione and Harry walked up the steps inside the castle. They were led; along with the other Hogwarts exchange students, to the Great Hall.

"So that's your cousin Dudley." Hermione looked at Dudley, who was at the other side of the Hall, with Hermayonnaise, talking to a few Smeltings students. Harry stared up at the ceiling.

"Wow, they've got an enchanted ceiling too!" Harry said; looking at the sky, which was darkening. And then he caught a familiar sight of white blond hair and pale skin heading towards him, surrounded by not two, but four huge boulders.

"So, like my badge, Potter?" Draco Malfoy drawled. A Slytherin prefect badge glinted on his chest. Another boy, wearing a Smeltings uniform, grinned. He and Malfoy looked alike, from blond hair to pale skin and grey eyes. The boy also had a badge on his chest, but it did not look like a Hogwarts' badge.

"I haven't introduced you to my new friends, yet, Potter. This is Crab and Oil," Malfoy said, pointing to the two huge boulders wearing Smeltings uniforms and this is....."
He was now pointing at the boy who looked exactly like him. The boy raised his hand in order to stop Malfoy from talking.....

"Maltsoy. Dough Maltsoy. Son of Delicious Maltsoy, grandson of Play-dough Maltsoy...etc..etc."

Then Dough tugged on Draco's arm. "Let's go, Draco. I think I see Dursley over at the Smelly table." Draco and Dough, followed by Crab, Crabbe, Goyle and Oil went over to the table at the other end of the Hall, towards Dudley.

"I don't think Dough's very nice," Hermione said, scowling.

"We better get to our table," Harry said, looking around the Hall. There were four tables in the Hall, and one long table in front for the staff. Professor Mcgonnagold, who had led them into the Hall earlier, had announced the house equivalents:

Gryffindor= Smelly
Hufflepuff= Melly
Ravenclaw= Elly
Slytherin= Ly

Harry could see the Smelly table, with a huge golden donkey against a scarlet background, the Melly table, with a black raccoon against a yellow background, the Elly table with a bronze turkey against a blue background and the Ly table with a silver eel against a green background.


Harry and Dudley both used the elevator up to the Smelly common room. Smeltings did nott have stairs. Professor Alpus Bubotubermore, the headmaster, always said that stairs were the devil of piggarding. Always use elevators if you can, that is what Bubotubermore would say.

Harry entered the 5th year dormitory and looked around. It was identical to the dormitory at Hogwarts. He sat on the bed and opened a very tattered old book about Quidditch, belonging to Dudley, which lay open on his bedside cabinet. He was not really concentrating on the book. He was, in fact, thinking about how Dudley had eaten half the food at the Smelly table. The only thing he probably did nott eat was the table itself.

Dudley collapsed on the bed beside him. Then he propped himself up on his elbow, looked at Harry and grinned,
"so, I hear you play Seeker on the Gryffindor team." Harry looked up at Dudley in awe.
"How did you know? And how do you know about Quidditch, anyway?" asked Harry
"Harry, you're reading my book on Quidditch. I'm Beater on the Smelly team."
"You have Quidditch at Smeltings?"
"Why else would I be Beater, then?" Dudley said.


It was past midnight by the time Dudley and Harry had finished talking. Dudley had been telling him everything about Smeltings and Quidditch. Harry took a final glance at the book 'Quidditch Quests'. A name in faint blue ink spelled Midge Prot Mallard, most likely its previous owner. He closed the book and handed it back to Dudley.

"I just got this from the second hand shop in Rectangular Lane. Of course, you know, the best Quidditch writer in the piggarding world is Piggins Arthur Mudlock," Dudley said. Dudley opened his trunk and stuffed the book back into it. He took out another book and handed it to Harry. A picture of Gilderoy Lockhart stared up at him, beaming.

"Piggins Arthur Mudlock?" Harry said, curiously. He looked at the book 'Quidditch for Piggards'.

"Well, there are rumours that he was some crazy dingbat of a wizard who lost his memory and ended up in the piggarding world. He's won Piggitch Weekly's Best Snort Award five times, you know," Dudley said thoughtfully.

So that's where Lockhart went, Harry thought to himself, as he opened the book.



The first day of classes went smoothly. Bovination, taught by Professor Treelawnbushes was the most boring lesson of the day. Harry managed to explore the Smeltings castle by himself. Dudley was at a Quidditch meeting with Hermayonnaise Gravy. Harry had met Dudley's best friend, Ron Pastry, a Smelly prefect. Hermione was at the library. She had muttered something about
"Smeltings: How We Smelled Things" before speeding off.

Harry had met Peas, the Smeltings poultrygeist and nearly had a run-in with the foul tempered Asparagus Filch, the caretaker.

He had been down to the Fowlery to see Hedwig and post a letter to Ron. The ordinary, Muggle post came to Smeltings as most of its students were from Muggle families. But another method preferred by the piggards was fowl post. Chickens were bewitched to fly. Chickens were dead useful, according to Dudley. They carried your post and laid eggs. Dudley's chicken was named Piginnawig.


Harry was not so lucky the next day. He finally met Professor Severed Snake, the Lotions Master. They were supposed to be making a Weight-Losing Moist. Somehow, the draught Harry and Dudley were making was turning into a bright maroon.

"That's 10 points from Smelly, you fleabag," Snake said, smiling in a way which reminded Harry very much of the Grinch. Snake then turned towards the rest of the class, "by now you dunderheads would have finished brewing your moist. It would take me great pleasure to test it on Smetings' resident baby whale, Mr. Dursley, whom has so kindly volunteered himself."

Harry did not know what made him do it-- "Professor, that's not fair. Dudley is perfectly normal-sized for his age," Harry said.

"Normal if you were a great white shark," Dough Maltsoy whispered loudly to Draco, so that the rest of the class could hear it. The Lys howled with laughter.

Snake did not flinch, "Potter, isn't it? Yes, Professor Snape sent me a note about you. Troublemaker. I'm keeping an eye on you, Potter. That's another 10 from Smelly."

"Don't worry. He took 30 off me for the Florida recount," Grille Longrotten whispered into Harry's ear.


The Great Hall was decorated splendidly for Halloween. Harry sat down at his usual place at the Smelly table, next to Hermione. Dudley was sitting closer in front, next to his friend, Ron Pastry. Harry glanced at the staff table, and whispered to Hermione, "Wonder why there's an extra chair?"

Alpus Bubotubermore started the feast with a speech, "by now all our guests from Hogwarts would have settled into the Smeltings routine. But, tonight, there are a few important announcements I must make that......" His words drifted off as the doors to the Hall opened.

Everyone in the hall turned around to see......

"DUMBLEDORE! Right on time!" Professor Bubotubermore said, motioning Professor Dumbledore to join him at the table.

The arrival of Dumbledore shocked the students of Smeltings. Dumbledore was to stay with them for the rest of the year. The other important announcement other than Dumbledore's arrival was that the exchange students weren't required to sit for the piggard exams, although they would have to return to Hogwarts to sit for their O.W.L.S.


Hermione had been cooped up in the library, reading 'Smeltings: How We Smelled Things'. Harry had started on 'Quidditch Quests'. He had finished 'Quidditch for Piggards', and surprisingly, Lockhart a.k.a. Piggins wasn't lying when he said he was good at Quidditch.



It was another boring Friday in Treelawnbushes' Bovination class.

"Miss Lavender Brownies, kindly tell your friend, Mr. Dursley here that the crystal ball is not some bunch of cotton I stuffed into a transparent ball. Peer into it carefully, you poor boy, this means that there is a great white cloud guarding you!"

Harry could not stop himself from bursting into fits of laughter. Lucky for him, McGonnagold interrupted the "interesting" lesson.
McGonnagold whispered something to Treelawnbushes and then announced, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley, you will both go to Professor Alpus Bubotubermore's office now. Bring your bags along and please hurry up!"

Harry, who was busy wiping away his tears, gathered his books and stuffed the copy of Quidditch Quests he had been reading into his bag. He was at page 883 when Mcgonnagold had interrupted the class. Harry and Dudley left the class, hearts pounding. He looked at Dudley. Dudley looked just as nervous as he did.


A thousand miles away in Hogs'-shed, Pigdemort shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was in a large castle that belonged to the Slytherin family. The castle last belonged to Voldemort's mother. It was unoccupied now, and the residents around it believed it to be haunted. The cold floor was killing him, and so were the carved stone chairs.
They were pretty to look at, sure, but they were making his fat ass ache when he sat in them. Across him, Lord Voldemort stared at him with a piercing look.

"You know what, Voldie, old chap? You gotta learn how to loosen up a bit. Boost your PR ratings. I mean, come on, you just sit there filling your head with crazy ideas and making yourself more angry and jealous and resentful. Lots of people are scared of you. Why can't you show that emotional, more gentle side of you. Discover your feminine side!"

Voldemort growled.

"Come on, just fill that head with wondrous happy thoughts of murdering people. Remember, happy thoughts. Killing people. Get the anger and resentment out of you, and in with the happiness! Sing with me …..Happy, happy, happy…..Sing the happy, happy, happy song with ME!" finished Pigdemort in a very odd high-pitched voice.

"Shut up, you fat pig. I do not laugh or rest until Potter is dead," Voldemort said icily.

"Big fat weirdo," said Pigdemort, sticking out his tongue. He looked like a five-year old kid that way, with his large, chubby body and pink cheeks.

"I may be a weirdo. But I am not fat, if it's anyone who's fat it most certainly is you," Voldemort said, while fiddling with his wand.

"Stupid Dudley Dursley is fatter than me!" said Pigdemort, on the verge of tears.

"You know what, Piggy……." Said Voldemort, smiling suddenly.

"What?" said Pigdemort, excitedly. Voldemort rarely told him anything, especially the TOP SECRET plan to kill Potter.

"I regret I never killed you during our last year at Hogwarts."


Professor Bubotubermore sat gravely at his desk in a large office identical to Professor Dumbledore's. Professor Dumbledore sat in a chair in front of Professor Bubotubermore.

"I think the both of you would know something about this." Bubotubermore showed Harry and Dudley a piece of parchment, which looked like it, was torn from a very old book. On it was written, in green ink, the words

'BEWARE, THE PAGE WILL BE TURNED!' Underneath it, in a squiggly writing which Harry had seen somewhere before, were the words, written in bright red:

He means you, Potter and Dursley. And you're gonna die. And you'll never know what hit you. You'll never guess who wrote this, even. Ha, ha, ha !!!!

Love, hugs and kisses,
The Dark Lard Pigdemort.
(Is that chocolate, mummy?)

"DUH, of course we know. The only person who'd be dumb enough to write a "scary", "threatening" and "anonymous" message and then sign his own name there would be Lard Pigdemort," Dudley said, rolling his eyes. "But I dunno about the one above it, though," Dudley added, hastily.

Dudley had told Harry all about Lard Pigdemort. Harry was not surprised if Voldemort was in on the scam.
"I think the message above Pigdemort's was from Voldemort. But I don't understand, professor, what does 'the page will be turned' mean?" Harry said.

"That's what we'd like to know," said Dumbledore, eyeing the both of them.

"Well…..." Harry began, "Pigdemort's writing looks familiar, as if I'd seen it somewhere before, but I'm not sure….."

Dumbledore looked at the piece of parchment again, examining every part of it. The room fell into deep silence. Then suddenly a very loud thud was heard. "Oh, sorry, it was just the book Dudley lent me," Harry said. The book had fallen out from his bag. In his haste, he had forgotten to zip it. The book lay open on the floor, at the very first page. Before Harry could pick it up, Dumbledore shouted,

"Look, there's a number on it! 880! This page has been torn from a book!" Then it struck Harry: "880 is the page number that's missing from this book!" Harry said. He picked the book up and handed it to Dumbledore. Dumbledore opened the book carefully and his eyes fell upon the faded writing in blue ink

MIDGE PROT MALLARD

Dudley's jaw dropped. "That looks exactly like Pigdemort's writing!"

Then Dumbledore said, "This is Midge Mallard's book. Funny his book should turn up like this, though. He is believed to be dead."

"Who is Midge Mallard?" Dudley and Harry asked at once.

Dumbledore looked gravely at everyone, and then began telling the story....

"Few people know that Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort. And even fewer know that Tom Riddle, the orphan, had a best friend, Midge Prot Mallard. Tom Riddle was in Slytherin, while his best friend was in Hufflepuff. Midge Mallard wasn't as smart as Riddle, but they were never seen without each other anywhere. But when Riddle gained power as Lord Voldemort, Mallard disappeared. Many believed he was killed by his own best friend, Riddle."

"But why would Voldemort kill his own best friend? Wouldn't he want supporters while he was rising to power?" Harry asked.

"Because Midge Mallard was of Muggle parentage," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

Harry suddenly remembered something from his second year in the chamber of secrets." Professor, may I borrow a quill and some parchment?" Harry said, excitedly. Professor Bubotubermore handed Harry the quill and parchment. Harry scribbled the words MIDGE PROT MALLARD and rearranged it.

Dudley's jaw dropped again. Everyone stared in disbelief at the words on the parchment

I AM LARD PIGDEMORT

Bubotubermore interrupted the silence- "Well, now that Dumbledore has told a story, I must tell one too. One that I have been keeping quiet about for many years. It has shocked me and will shock you too."

"Pigdemort, is of course, feared by everyone....Well-- almost. He rose to power a very long time ago. He mercilessly killed many. His loyal Everything Eaters helped him along the way. But when Dudley was born, Pigdemort lost his powers. He had come into the Muggle world to kill the Dursleys. It never happened and everyone believed Dudley got rid of him, because he was never seen again after that."

"But both my parents aren't piggards, and I didn't know I was either till that beetle-eyed-guy gave me that tail," Dudley said.

Harry scowled.

"Well," Bubotubermore shrugged, "some say he didn't even go near the Dursleys that night. Apparently he was still in line for the Space Mountain ride at Disneyland when he got so frustrated and lost his powers. But that's another story," Bubotubermore added.

"Anyway, back to our story," Bubotubermore started again, "this school, as you know it, according to history, was started a thousand years ago by the four greatest piggards of that time. They were:

Velly Smelly, Sur Melly, Diagon Elly and Stupid Ly. I was suspicious about this, as school records show that the first headmaster was a plain old Mr.Stinktings and records date back about 50 years ago only, when this school was supposedly started over a thousand years ago.

That was when I came up with the theory that Pigdemort, or Midge Mallard, started this school for piggards. Back then, there were no schools for piggards in Britain. Most of them went abroad. Pigdemort had a terrible dislike for Hogwarts and since he found out about piggards, he always believed that he was one and desperately wanted to be one. He was a failure as a wizard, but when he tried out the piggard spells, he found he could do them more easily than a piggard with proper training. He fashioned himself with a piggarding name.

But when his friend Riddle, rose to power as Voldemort, he decided that he too, wanted to be a dark lard and thus became Lard Pigdemort, founder of Smeltings and the greatest, most evil piggard of all time. Only no one knows about the former, except me, until now."

"But what's up with all the founders' names?" Harry asked.

"Like I said, he hated Hogwarts. He made up everything himself. He had a really weird sense of humour," Bubotubermore answered.

"Weird indeed. How did you obtain this book, Dudley?" Dumbledore asked, looking straight at Dudley.

"I got it from the weird junk shop in Rectangular Lane," Dudley answered.

"But who put it there? That's what I want to know," Dumbledore said, with a slight frown.

Everyone in the room stared at the book that Harry was now flipping through. Dudley stood beside Harry, anxiously glancing at the book. Harry turned to page 883, where he had last been reading it. He flipped the pages some more. And then he turned to page 888.

The room; which had earlier been brightly lit, suddenly turned dark. Professor Bubotubermore and Dumbledore were now gone, leaving Harry and Dudley only in the room. Harry felt nauseous and soon his scar started to hurt; and so did Dudley's pigtail, which, in case you have forgotten (either it's amnesia, or I'm a lazy lazy writer. Take your pick) was in the shape of a curly fry at his ass.

Then Harry heard the raspy voice and the icy laugh. Now he understood what the words 'the page will be turned' meant. Page 888 was a Portkey. Across him, sat Lord Voldemort and his "best friend", Lard Pigdemort.

Voldemort, was of course, too gruesome to describe, but Pigdemort was chubby and blonde and had fat pink cheeks. He looked more like a five-year old than an evil dark lord-- sorry, lard.

"About time," Voldemort growled, "I don't understand why you had to put the Portkey on page 888. Potter isn't exactly an avid reader."

"Well, 888 are the squiggliest numbers in the whole book!" Pigdemort said. He laughed icily, which didn't suit his innocent, fat face.

"Nevermind, now we can kill Potter and Dursley," Voldemort said. He got out his wand and pointed it at Harry and Dudley, who were now bound in ropes. Pigdemort got out his wand too. Voldemort started, "AVADA--!"

"WAIT!" bellowed Pigdemort.

"What is it now?!" Voldemort's voice thundered. He was in a rage like Harry had never seen before.

"Oh, I just need to get pictures of this on my digital camera. Post on my site, you know, www.pigdemort.com. So that my loyal Everything Eaters can keep up with my current activities. You should start one too, Voldie. I mean, the Dark Mark and
apparating is soooo 90s." Pigdemort had now tucked his wand back into his robes and started snapping away on his digital camera.

"Hey, Piggy, want a bar of Honeypukes chocolate?" Dudley asked cunningly. Pigdemort stopped taking shots and looked at Dudley. "Is that the Whipple-Scrumptious Fudge flavour?" Pigdemort said excitedly.

"Yeah, but I can't give it to you unless you take this ropes off me," Dudley said slyly.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Voldemort shouted at Pigdemort. But it was too late, Pigdemort had already taken the ropes off and was summoning the chocolate from Dudley's pants pocket. He greedily ripped off the wrapper and stuffed half the bar into his fat mouth.

While this was happening, Dudley had taken out his wand (piggards' wands are in the shape of curly fries, in case you are wondering) and untied the ropes around Harry. Voldemort was so mad he had dropped his wand and was shaking in anger. Pigdemort, meanwhile, was sitting on the floor, stuffing his fat face.


And together, Harry and Dudley performed the Avada Kedavra on Voldemort and Pigdemort, killing the both of them. There were bright, brilliant flashes of green and red light when all this happened. The earth shook and Harry and Dudley found themselves back at Smeltings, in Professor Bubotubermore's office.

Then we go back to the usual tell-everything-that happened-in-the-room-at-the-Slytherin-Castle; have a great feast; two hundred points for Smelly; Draco and Dough sulking; Rita Skeeter and Retard Skittles coming to Smeltings with a swarm of paparazzi and journalists, along with the Daily Prophet and Dairy Product, interviewing Harry and Dudley and later electing them Supreme Rulers of the Universe. Okay-- maybe not the last one.


Fast forward a few months later, Harry got twelve O.W.L.S. and Dudley got twelve F.O.W.L.S., Smelly won the Quidditch Cup and House Cup. Dudley had got a letter from his parents, which lashed out at Harry for getting twelve O.W.L.S. Harry was so angry he had had write back to the Dursleys:

Dear Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia,

I wish the both of you would loosen up a little. The both of you really suck. You guys
should loosen up and go for those 70s peace thing, you know. Live a happier and alternative
lifestyle. Those kind of things. Instead of being miserable weirdoes.

Peace out,
Harry Potter.


It was the last day of school; Harry, Hermione, Dudley and Hermayonnaise were taking a stroll along the field when they heard-- Pansy Parkinson and Fancy Fuckingson having a catfight over Draco and Dough.

"No way. Draco is cuter...!"

"Dough will rule the world Pansy! His pale face makes me swoon," Fancy said while swaying from side to side.

"DOUGH WILL RULE THE WORLD OVER MY ROTTEN RHUBARB!" exclaimed Pansy

Pansy then took off her high heel and stuffed it into Fancy's mouth hole. Fancy, outraged, swirled her handbag in big loops, and released it onto Pansy. Pansy started yelping.

"Why, I'd chop off your legs and make Witch-Bitch Stew, Fancy!"

"You wanna try?"

Then, out of the plot hole pops up a huge cauldron, complete with ingredients needed. Fancy, cackling like an evil witch--err, Piggitch, sorry, was soon chasing Pansy around the chicken house with a huge butcher knife.


Anyway, while this was going on, Dough and Draco were walking by the lake, talking to each other in a more gentlemanly way.

"Well, Dough, despite everything we've gone through this year, I must tell you that I am more obnoxious than you and I always say the cooler lines."

"Excuse me, I am more obnoxious and richer than you. And I am more sarcastic and I say even more cooler lines."

"You richer than me? Who says? I've got twenty or so mansions and 2 castles spread out over the world. And I look really good in leather. Lots of people say so." (A/N: Wink, wink.... Cassandra Claire fans...)

"Oh yeah? I look better. And I've got a...."

This is silly, so let's listen to Crabbe and Crab behind the famous rose bushes.

"Doh... Crab, dear. Let's make this day... err... memorable, and-- doh, have some, d-uh, fun."

"Duhh, sure Crabbe. What...d-d-uh...fun??"

"Doh, let me show you," Crab said grinning.
And the rest of this is CENSORED!

Now take your mind off that, and join me in the rather electrifying situation between Goyle and Oil.

****~~~-----EnTeR RoMaNtIc MuSiC-----~~~****
And Goyle's dumb eyes looked into Oil's stupid ones, and Oil's stupid eyes gazed into Goyle's dumb ones.
And guess what happened?

Church bells was what happened. Church bells and confetti, and ribbons with laces, and bows and balloons. It was what they called-- L-O-V-E.


Dudley and Harry arrived home by taxi. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had a surprise in store for Dudley and did not want to spoil it. Harry wondered what the big surprise could be. Most likely a new TV that would fit the entire wall of Dudley's bedroom. He hoped they had received his letter.

"What's that?" Dudley said, eyes as round as bowling balls. He pointed towards a hideous, bright pink and orange Volkswagen Beetle in the driveway of Number 4, Privet Drive.

Before Harry could answer, Aunt Petunia threw opened the door and shouted, "Duddy!" Only Aunt Petunia looked different. She was wearing platform shoes, a T-shirt with a large 'PeAcE' sign on it and ridiculously looking bell-bottoms. Her long blond hair had a (those bands those girls from the 70s used to put around their head)

Harry followed Dudley into the house. The living room had changed dramatically since Harry had last seen it. A fat Uncle Vernon with his usual bushy moustache sat on the couch, ruffling Dudley's hair. Uncle Vernon's hair was in an awful Afro and he was wearing a vest with multiple love beads and a large peace sign hung around his neck. He was wearing the ugliest pair of platform shoes Harry had ever seen and bell-bottoms the size of church bells. And that was nothing compared to his sunglasses. If you even call them sunglasses. Triangles were Harry's least favourite shape, but hearts? Ghee whiz, the nerve! Uncle Vernon flashed Harry a peace sign.

An old record player stood on a table. Records littered he floor. (Abba, Bee Gees, Grease...) the wallpaper had been changed to a hideous pink and orange pattern. Smiley faces, weird-coloured flowers, posters of the Beatles and Elvis were on the wall. A large, glittering disco ball was the center of attention in the living room.

"So, what do you think, Duddy, mah man?"

"WHERE'S THE TV?!"

"TV is the devil, man. Dude, you allowed it to rule your life long enough, man."

"Chill ya'all. Should fill our short lives with simple, fun and peaceful activities, man," Aunt Petunia said, while fixing the disco ball properly onto the ceiling.

Harry heard the neighbour next-door screaming, "that's it, one more 'peace' pamphlet and I'm selling this house and moving to Ethiopia!"

"And we have cousin Harry to thank for this, man. He's da man, MAN! Yo dude, thanks for my cool life, man," Uncle Vernon said, beaming at Harry.

Dudley cracked his knuckles in a threatening manner that meant Harry was about to be a punch bag soon. "Harrrry... --CENSORED--- "

Harry could only grin--
"Who damn cares, man! LET'S BOOGIE!"
With this Harry took off his shoes, and started rampaging around with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

------------------THE BLOODY END --------------------


Special thanks goes to the genius iamtheanonymous and the awesome malfoy_draco. You guys rock!