Narrator: Once upon a time, there was a married couple named Vernon and Petunia Dursley. They loved each other very much and had son named Dudley. But they also had a secret: Petunia's sister Lily was actually a witch. Why she would keep that a secret is beyond me. That sounds awesome. Maybe it's because she's jealous that she can't use magic. Anyway, our story begins on Tuesday the 1st of November 1981…wait a minute, that was a Sunday. Silly Joanne. Anyway, on this dreary SunTuesday, Mr. Dursley was about to leave for work. He had no idea that this would be the last normal day of his life…
Vernon: Bye honey, I'm off to work.
Petunia: Remember to yell at Steve from accounting for me.
Vernon: I never forget. Bye Duddles.
Dudley: WAH! WAH! (Translation: my name is Dudley you uneducated oaf. Also, change me).
Vernon: Ha ha, look at that, he thinks he can talk. Well, see you tonight.
Dudley: WAH! WAH! (Translation: Just you wait, daddy dearest. Just you wait).
*Vernon walks out to his car, and notices a cat reading a road sign*
Vernon: Haha, silly cat. You can't be famous on the Internet for doing human things yet. It's only 1981.
*Vernon starts driving to work. While caught in traffic, he notices a bunch of people in cloaks*
Vernon: Haha, look at the silly young people, still dressed in their Halloween costumes from last night….even though that one's older than me. Man, he has some serious game.
*at lunch time, Vernon's just leaving a bakery. More people in cloaks are around*
Cloaked person #1: Did you hear about how He was killed?
Cloaked person #2: Yeah, it was by the Potter boy.
Vernon (thoughts): Potter boy? Could these weird people be some of Petunia's sister's people, and talking about Petunia's sister's son? Nah, it can't be. Potter's a common surname. As long as they don't confirm my fears by saying his first name Har…
Cloaked person #1: Yep, that Harry Potter kid is going to be really famous.
Vernon (thoughts): Oh thank God. I thought they were going to say Harvey. There's absolutely no connection to anything to do with me.
*later at home, watching the news*
News anchor Ted: And in some unusual news, owls have been seen flying around in the daytime. Like, a lot. Honestly, some serious shit is probably about to go down. Well, here's Jim with the weather.
Weatherman Jim: It gonna rain.
News anchor Ted: Thank you Jim. Now, sports.
*outside*
McGonagall (still in cat form) (thoughts): Where the fuck is he? Did he get lost on the way here AGAIN?!
*Dumbledore suddenly appears at the end of the road, getting rid of the street lights as he went*
McGonagall (still in cat form) (thoughts): Okay, there he is.
*cat walks up to him, nuzzles against his leg*
Dumbledore: Wha? Where am I? Whose cat is this?
McGonagall: Sir, it's me.
Dumbledore: Holy shit, a talking cat.
McGonagall: Oh for Christ sake.
*McGonagall transforms into a human*
Dumbledore: Holy shit an Animorph.
McGonagall: a) those books won't exist for another fifteen years. b) You know who I am.
Dumbledore: Oh, yes, that's right. You're…uh…Violet?
McGonagall: Not for nearly thirty years I won't be. Seriously, how do you forget your most loyal friend and supporter of the last thirty five years?
Dumbledore: Huh? What? Oh, Minerva, when'd you get here…wherever here is?
McGonagall: Right…moving on. Did you remember to bring the babe?
Dumbledore: What babe?
McGonagall: The babe with the power.
Dumbledore: What babe?
McGonagall: For crying out loud, the bloody Potter child.
Dumbledore: Who do?
*McGonagall slaps Dumbledore really hard*
McGonagall: Do you have Harry here or not?
Dumbledore: Oh, that. No, I got Hagrid to bring him.
*McGonagall stares at Dumbledore at shocked silence*
McGonagall: You're not serious.
Dumbledore: Why? What's the worst that could happen?
*Hagrid zooms past on a motorcycle, which crashes soon afterwards*
McGonagall: Well there's that, for starters.
Hagrid: Sorry 'bout that. Kinda forgot how ta land this thing.
McGonagall: Please tell me you at least remembered to bring the child.
Hagrid: Weeeell, I did ha' a couple of those wood'n beer cans before I left…
McGonagall: Those are kegs.
Hagrid: And I did try to find out if I could do a barrel roll in this thing…
McGonagall: Jesus fucking Christ…
Hagrid: But I think he's alright.
*lifts baby Harry out of the sidecar of the motorcycle*
McGonagall: You left the baby unrestrained in the sidecar of a motorcycle that you were riding drunk and doing aerial acrobatic stunts on?
Hagrid: Yeah? So?
Dumbledore: Is there a problem with that?
McGonagall: In answer to your earlier question, THAT is the worst that could happen.
Dumbledore: Well, time to leave him here with his only remaining family.
McGonagall: Are you sure that's wise sir?
Dumbledore: Why? What's the worst that could happen?
McGonagall: How much do you know about these people?
Dumbledore: Not a thing.
McGonagall: So, they could be murderers, rapists, paedophiles, Nazis, white supremacists, members of the Westboro Baptist Church, or any horrifying combination thereof, and you're just gonna leave him on their doorstep all night?
Dumbledore: Yep.
McGonagall: Just…whatever, just do it. You'll do it no matter what I say, so just do it.
Dumbledore: Alright then. Hagrid, would you like to do the honours?
Hagrid: Alright, sir.
*Hagrid throws Harry onto the Dursley's doorstep*
McGonagall: SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK HAGRID?! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
Hagrid: Hey, I'm on a tight schedule. I've gotta get this bike back to young Sirius Black.
McGonagall: Does he even want it back?
Hagrid: No, but I'm gonna make him take it back.
*Hagrid leaves*
Dumbledore: Well, I guess we better be leaving too.
McGonagall: Wait, didn't the weather say there was going to be rain tonight?
Dumbledore: Don't worry, Harry's got a blanket.
*storm suddenly starts*
McGonagall: I stand corrected. THAT'S the worst thing that can happen.
