In which Harry Potter tries to pun in every single situation, becomes a wizard, gets his bucket list mauled by Snape, and somehow manages to survive.


Harry Potter was a strange child to say the least. He rarely ate, was always locked in a cupboard, had 'parents' that forgot about his birthday, accidentally unleashed a snake, and much more.

But one thing was the strangest of them all– Harry somehow made every. single. damn. saying. into. a. pun.

It all started out with a book, an old textbook that his teacher had given to him because it was so goddamn old. He flipped through the pages, dust rising from the old and worn sheets, blowing into his face.

The young nine year old sitting on his bed in his cupboard grimaced again when something strangely green and sticky held several yellow, coffee-stained pages together. He swallowed a gulp.

Slowly, and tentatively, he peeled the pages apart. He looked away, expecting some kind of monster to leap out at him, only to discover many crude tiny sketches and writing by the margins. Harry peered through his glasses at the tiny words.

What building has the most stories?

Harry smiled and squinted at the reply.

A library!

A crooked grin made its way onto his face, and his eyes sparkled with mirth.

Did you hear about the wooden car with the wooden wheels and the wooden engine? It wooden go!

It was something so beautiful, artistic, and witty–he couldn't help but fall in love. It was meant to be.

And from that day on, Harry Potter was known as the boy who punned.


Harry Potter was on a train that zoomed past tall trees and wide branches, weaving itself magically through the woods.

Harry Potter was currently sitting in his seat and sharing Chocolate Frogs with Ronald Weasley until a specific blond haired git entered the room. The blond wore a smirk, already dressed in black robes, and had two other boys right beside him.

" Harry Potter." The blond smirked out before looking into Ron's direction, " Blood traitor."

" Y-You.." Ron spit out,

Ron paled.

" Hi Draco." Harry said calmly.

Ron broke out into a sweat.

" How are you?" Draco asked.

Ron started hyperventilating.

" Well I'm as single as a Knut," Harry said.

" And?"

" I'm looking for some change." He finished, winking in Malfoy's direction.

Draco Malfoy did not expect an answer like that. He was trained to be regal, chilling, and calm. However, the mere words that came out of Harry Potter had him running down the train, furiously blushing, and stuttering like an idiot.

" M-My f-father will hear a-about t-this!"


" Harry Potter!" The sorting hat shrieked out.

Harry, who had his face buried in his old textbook peeked out at amazed faces. So this was Harry Potter, some mused, the boy who lived. He, however, did not know anything about the houses because he had been too absorbed in coming up puns and reading books.

Tripping upstage, he fixed his robe, and flashed a charming grin.

" Can I Slytherin into Gryffindor, Mr. Sorting Hat?" Harry said loudly.

" Mr. Potter," Mrs. McGonagall said shrilly, " Did you not hear a word that I just said?"

Ron groaned, and Hermione just sighed.


" Hey Professor."

Harry was in Potions class with a herd of Slytherins, and with an incredibly dangerously mean Potions Master. Everyone held their breath for what came next.

" Ah yes, Potter–our new celebrity."

" Oh why thank you! I knew it, I was destined to become famous."

Snape's jaws literally fell apart. No way this was Lily's and James's son. First of all, Lily was such a sweet person and she would never be this narcissistic. Second of all, James wasn't even that bad when it came to his ego. Third of all, they both had a sarcastic, dry sense of humor. Not something like this!

" Fame isn't everything, Potter."

" Well professor..." Harry pulled out a ruler and began measuring Snape.

The man twitched and hissed, " What are you doing?"

" I'm measuring your patience, Professor."

Giggle erupted. Ron twitched in laughter, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

This was going to be a very long year.


Harry took out his bucket list that he had made the day he had opened the Hogwarts letter. He smiled and checked one more thing off the list.

1) Be a badass

2) Kick the dude's ass who killed my parents (aka Voldemort)

3) Be the Minister of Magic (this is a secret shh)

4) Get paid to kick ass (imagine how many brooms he could afford)

5) Have a collection of expensive brooms

6) Be a badass (was this repeated? oh well.)

7) Annoy Snape (check!)

Ron suddenly popped up and said, " What is that?"

" Just my bucket list."

Ron came closer, " You actually wrote You-Know-Who's name on here? What in the bloody hell were you thinking about? Writing his name is still taboo!"

Harry smirked and crossed his arms, " Then don't be nosy."

Ron's lips turned upwards.

" Because Voldemort doesn't have a nose!"


It was breakfast, and a broom had thudded onto the table and rolled into Harry's lap. The owls were tired, exhausted as they seemingly leaned against a mug. Hermione had gaped at it, before gasping at the Daily Prophet's headlines.

Muggles killed by mysterious forces? By: Rita Skeeter

" Oh my! These poor muggles, the Ministry of Magic must do something to help them!"

" Would you owls like a muggle of water?" Harry grinned boyishly at his pun.

Ron groaned, and Hermione sighed.


It was Halloween morning, and Harry woke up with a throbbing headache. He pulled on his robes backwards, and drowsily tripped over multiple paintings to get into the Great Hall.

" Watch where you're stepping, boy!" Said a painting.

" That's my face!"

The boy was in a foul mood when he entered the Great Hall.

" You reckon he'll make any puns when he's this tired?"

" Nah, I don't think he can even think properly!"

" Harry, you need a cup of coffee." Hermione said, " The caffeine will wake you up, but unfortunately it'll stain your teeth too, so you should brush your teeth afterwards."

Harry murmured a 'yes mom' sleepily and pointed at the coffee cup with his wand, " Expresso Patronum..."

Ron sweatdropped, and Hermione hid a smile.


" We will be dissecting toads today to harvest their organs for the internal draft potion," Snape's voice drifted through the cold chambers.

However, unlike his other classes, everyone held their breath for what Harry Potter, the boy who punned and lived, would say.

" Hey Professor Snape," He said.

" What, Potter." Snape could feel a ghost of a smile crawling to his face.

" What's the difference between a toad and a horny toad."

" That's crossing the line, Potter!"

" The toad says, 'ribbit, ribbit'. The horny toad says 'rub-it, rub-it'!"

All Harry got as a reply was a whack on his head.