A/N: Hello! I'm here again with another new story. For those of you who know me from my other HP story, Making Friendship Bracelets For The Death Eaters, or my O.C story, Life Was Perfect or The Difference, there's really no need to introduce myself. To my new readers: Hi! I'm Avada Cruimperio, formerly dramaqueen825, also known as Marissa. I'm not sure if you all will like this story, but I do, so too bad. Review and tell me what you think!

Summary: Harry Potter parody of The Wizard Of Oz. A flying house sends a confused and possibly stoned Harry into the Wizarding World, a strange land where Snape is the Good Witch of the North, Dumbledore lives in a talking head, and Harry accidentally killed Voldemort's sister. Oops. Filled with my usual sarcastic humor.

Disclaimer: I own neither WoO or HP. Deal with it.

The Wonderful Wizard of... Hogsmeade?

Chapter One: Are You A Good Wizard, Or A Bad Wizard?

Harry Potter was not having a good day. He was catsitting for Mrs. Figg while she was on vacation in Majorca, and the city's Animal Abuse Department had shown up when Uncle Vernon threw Mr. Tibbles out the window. Unfortunately, they thought the wretched furball was Harry's, so he had been fined 50 pounds. Like he even had fifty pounds! Some greasy black-hared git from the AAD had come to pick up the money today, and Harry had had to borrow from Uncle Vernon… It sucked that there wasn't a Human Abuse Department, for when Uncle Vernon had found that it was costing him more to keep the cat than it did for the whole summer for his nephew, Harry had found himself flying out the window.

Now, Uncle Vernon popped his head in through the cupboard door. "You! Boy! There's a tornado coming, so we're sending you off to walk to school like always and keeping Dudley home while we all cower in the basement."

"Naturally."

"All right then, go! We have to get the plot moving."

"Right." Harry grabbed his backpack, and headed off to school.

It was a lonesome walk to school, which was probably because everyone had enough sense not to send their kids to school when there was a tornado about three miles away. Harry shuffled his feet, and began to sing… in his head.

Suddenly, a tornado came whipping across the conveniently empty field across the street. "Oh, look!" Harry said. "A tornado. I guess I better run for it."

He sprinted away and jumped inside the nearest house, which was really stupid because the tornado was going to get him anyways. And I happen to know this because I write the story, therefore the 'nado is under my command. Bwahahahaha!

Harry sat, panting, in the kitchen of some random house that coincidentally was Mrs. Figg's, when (surprise!) the tornado came and lifted the house off the ground. Betcha didn't see that coming, did you?

Harry sat calmly in a kitchen chair, waiting for the tornado to drop him off somewhere. He had not suspected that, however, when they landed, Mrs. Figg's house would become a murderer.

Thunk. They had touched down.

Harry cautiously opened the front door, followed by Mr. Tibbles.

He heard a little laughing. He looked, startled, at Mr. Tibbles. "What was that?"

He looked around and finally noticed his surroundings, and, boy, was it different from home! There were wild flowers growing all over the place, in every color of the rainbow. Bright purple houses popped up everywhere, and gleaming silver buildings added a nice touch to the landscape.

"Mr. Tibbles, I don't think we're on Privet Drive anymore."

"Thank goodness." Mr. Tibbles remarked.

"Mr. Tibbles! You can talk!"

"Of course I can. I'm magical!"

"Pssh. There's no such thing as magic!" Harry scorned.

"Oh, shut up. You don't know anything."

Someone tapped Harry on the back. He turned around, and nearly had a heart attack.

Standing behind him was a man with sallow skin, long, greasy hair and a hooked nose. "Are you Harry Potter?" he drawled boredly.

"Y-yes." Harry stuttered. "Who are you?"

"I'm Snape, Good Wizard of the North. And you're Harry Potter, the reason why I was woken up at five o'clock in the morning and HAVEN'T HAD ANY COFEE YET!"

"I'm sorry!" Harry squeaked, terrified.

"And guess who has to clean up the mess you made of Munchkinland? I DO! Because stupid Janitorial Munchkin Filch is off doing business for the Wizard, la dee da, he's probably gone to wipe his boots."

"Er."

"My, aren't we intellectual? Anyway, I'd better this over with, because my soap's on in a few hours, and if I miss As The Wizarding World Turns, there'll be blood to pay." Snape cleared his throat. "Are you a good wizard, or a bad wizard?" the man asked.

"What the hell?"

"I said, are you a good wizard, or a bad wizard? It's not that difficult."

"Dude, I think you've got the wrong guy. I'm not a wizard." Harry answered.

"Harry, although you may disgrace the name of magic, like it or not, you're a wizard. So get with the program."

"I'm a wizard?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, if you're not, how did you get that house to kill Bellatrix Lestrange (God bless her soul)?"

And for the first time, Harry noticed a pair of small, dainty protruding from the house. "Holy crap! That chick's dead!"

"Don't feel bad, she was the second-evilest witch in history. And anyways, what we'd all like to know is if you're good or bad. Because if you're bad, I need to get the hell out of here. Dying is not on my To-Do list today."

"Geez, you old fart, I told you. I'm not a wizard. Wizards are old and ugly."

"I'm a wizard."

"Exactly."

Snape gave Harry the finger.

Harry head those stupid little giggles again. "What is that?"

"Those are the house-elves. They're laughing because they think that me flipping you off is funny. Which it is." Snape flipped Harry off again.

"Oh. Sorry. Are all wizards ugly?"

"No."

"So I could be a good-looking wizard?"

"I guess. Except that you're not good-looking."

"Bastard. Anyways, what are house-elves?"

"The little people who used to be enslaved by the evil Bellatrix- she ruled this area. Welcome to Munchkin land."

"That doesn't make sense. Shouldn't it be called House-elf Land?"

"Well, if you knew anything about anything, you would know that the house-elves are descendants of the Munchkins."

"Whatever."

"Anyways, so, elves! You can come out and meet Harry, although I have no idea why you'd want to."

Slowly, one by one, then two by two, five by five, and ten by ten, little tiny… elves… crept out from where they were hiding. They were hideous little creatures, with huge ears and potato sacks for clothes.

One elf threw himself at Harry's feet. "Oh, Harry Potter, sir, you killed the evil Bellatrix and freed us! Dobby thanks you, sir, thank you!"

But the other elves were looking at him with… hate?

"You killed Mistress Bellatrix!" one ugly little one sobbed. "Kreacher loved Mistress Bellatrix, she was so good to him, oh yes…"

Another elf was drinking out of a vodka bottle, and hiccupping. "Mistress Bella is telling Winky all her secrets, yes she is…"

Harry looked nervous. "These elf-dudes seemed to really like that old lady. Are you sure she's dead?"

"Do you know anyone that survived a house falling on their heads?"

"No, I guess not."

BOOM

Another man had appeared- this time, though, he was a lot scarier than Snape. And that's saying something. He had a snakelike face, with a nearly flat nose and slits for nostrils.

"I thought you said she was dead."

"Idiot, he is. Does this look female to you? This is Voldemort, the other Wizard. He's worse than the one you killed."

At the mention of his name, Voldemort looked furious. "How many times have I told you, it's He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

Snape glared at him. "Don't get me pissed, Voldemort. I haven't had my coffee yet."

Voldemort merely ignored him. "Who was it? Who killed my Death Eater? Was it you, boy?" He pointed one thin finger at Harry.

"Dude, it was an accident. Chill out."

"I'll kill your parents for this!"

"You already did that." Snape noted.

"Oh. Yes. Anyways, WHERE ARE THEY? Where are the ruby slippers?"

Harry looked down at his feet, and discovered that, to his disgust, Dudley's old Nikes were not on him. He was wearing a pair of shiny red high-heels.

"GET THESE OFF OF ME!"

Snape sighed, and with a flick of his wand, the slippers had been transformed into some into some lovely leather loafers. Say that one five times fast.

"Give me them!" Voldemort screamed.

"Nah. There they are, and there they'll stay."

Voldemort scowled. "I'll be watching you, Potter, and you just try to stay out of my way… I'll get you, my pretty-er, kid, and your little cat, too!"

"It's not mine!" Harry protested, but Voldemort had already disappeared.

"Wow. Guess Voldemort hates you." Snape remarked. "You should probably get out of Munchkinland, actually it'd be good to leave the Wizarding World altogether."

"How can I get home?" Dudley's old oversized sweaters and cleaning the kitchen six times a day were looking pretty good compared with a crazy old magic guy that wanted to kill him over a pair of pumps.

"I dunno. The person who might know is the great and wonderful Wizard of Hogsmeade himself!"

"Good wizard or bad wizard?" Sheesh, did everyone get that question asked around here?

"He's good, but rather... eccentric. He lives in Hogsmeade-"

"No shit."

"-which is like, a gazillion miles from here. Did you bring your Nimbus?"

"Er… no."

"Then you've gotta walk. Ha ha!"

"That sucks."

"Yeah. So you've gotta walk. The Yellow Brick-Foam will take you right there."

Harry uncertainty stepped on the path. It was made out of a combination of brick and Styrofoam. It seemed to crack under his feet.

"Geez, kid, how much do you weigh?" Snape asked.

"I'm malnourished, thank you very much!" Harry shot back.

"You keep telling yourself that…" Snape muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." A loud beeping noise was heard. Snape cursed and pulled something out of his pocket. "I've gotta go. Mundungus Fletcher's out impersonating the Wizard again…" And with a puff of smoke, he disappeared.

Harry glanced warily at the house-elves, who were looking quite anxious for him to get a move on. "Are you sure that the road won't collapse under my feet?"

"No, sir, we is quite sure it is stable!" squeaked little Dobby, but the other elves weren't as polite.

"Who cares? Get out of Munchkinland, you filthy half-blood!" Kreacher snarled.

Harry held out his hands. "All right, I'm going. Geez."

And with that, he disappeared down the Yellow Brick-Foam, it crunching and crackling under his feet.

A/N: So? What did you all think? If you guys don't like it, I won't put up another chapter, I guess… For those of you who read my other story, Making Friendship Bracelets With The Death Eaters, you know that I'm a total review whore. So, review! Tell me whether you liked it, hated it, flushed it down the toilet…