Chapter 4: The Dripping Pot
Harry: Well Hedwig, finally I have a bit of freedom from the Dursleys. Actually, I should check if I can just live here when I'm not at school. I'm sure Tom the bartender would be happy to adopt me, and living here would mean the Dursleys never have to see me again. I'm going to go check.
*downstairs*
Tom the Bartender: Absolutely not.
Harry: What? Why not?
Tom the Bartender: Because there's already a major character named Tom in this series, so the audience would get confused. Plus, I've just had more lines in this chapter than I get in the actual series.
Harry: You mean the spirit of Tom imprisoned in the diary? Don't worry, he's dead. You don't have to worry about him.
Tom the Bartender: Aww, it's cute you think that way. Now, get out of my bar.
Harry: But I'm a paying customer.
Tom the Bartender: Fudge is the paying customer. Therefore, he gets good customer service. You're just leeching off the government's teat. Now, get lost.
Harry: Fine, jeez Tom, no need to be a dick about it.
Tom the Bartender: Says Harry Potter.
*out in Diagon Alley*
Dean: HARRY! What's up buddy?
Harry: Dean, Seamus, how are you guys going?
Seamus: Not bad. I just got laid ten minutes ago.
Harry: Say what? With who?
Dean: We just got our copies of the Monster Book of Monsters, and Seamus's immediately latched onto his dick, and, well…
Seamus: Still counts.
Harry: Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?
Seamus: Devon Murray had the record for breaking the most wands on set, so I want the record for breaking the most wands in this fanfic. And by wands…
Harry & Dean: You mean your dick.
Pedestrian 1: *running to Quality Quidditch Supplies* Oh my God, there it is.
Pedestrian 2: It's beautiful.
Harry: What's going on?
Dean: Oh, they're unveiling the new Firebolt broomstick. Apparently it's faster than the Nimbus 2001.
Harry: Oh, cool. How much is it?
Dean: If you have to ask, you can't afford it.
Harry: But I'm Harry Potter.
Dean: If you're thinking of using your white privilege bullshit…
Harry: It's not white privilege, it's killed the Dark Lord privilege. Besides, we're in England. Why are you black?
Seamus: Oh my God Harry, you can't just ask why people are black.
*later, in Flourish and Blotts*
Harry: Hello, I'm looking for…
Manager: Let me guess, you need the Monster Book of Monsters? *starts putting on protective gear* Honestly, if I ever find out which teacher put that one on the book list, I'll…
Harry: I'm not exactly sure what you're gonna do to an eleven and a half foot giant. Plus, I've already got one.
Manager: Oh, thank Allah.
Harry: Say what?
Manager: So what do you need? *takes list* Let's see…you need The Standard Book of Spells Grade 3, Intermediate Transfiguration, The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Unfogging the Future.
Harry: Why do I have to read an ActualWeeb fanfiction for school? *starts following the manager towards the books, when he sees something* Hey, what's this?
Manager: Oh, that's just some book about death omens. Don't read it, you'll start seeing them everywhere.
Harry: I saw this dog though.
Manager: See, it's already starting.
Harry: Why do I get the feeling this year's going to revolve around someone trying to kill me? You know, again?
*a few days later*
Harry: I honestly thought I would have seen Ron and Hermione by now. I mean, tomorrow's the day we head the Hogwarts.
Neville: I'm here, Harry.
Harry: Nobody cares, Neville *goes downstairs, gets tackled by a mysterious orange blur*
Ron: Hey.
Harry: Hey.
Ron: You miss me?
Harry: No, but I can tell you did. And not just from the tackle.
Hermione: Hi Harry.
Harry: Oh good, someone intelligent to talk to *pushes Ron off him* What's up?
Hermione: Well, my parents gave me some money to get myself a present for my birthday next month. I was thinking of getting an owl like you two have.
Ron: I don't have an owl. Errol's the family owl, though I'm pretty sure he's half pigeon. I only have Scabbers, and that might not be for much longer *pulls out very sick looking Scabbers*
Harry: Well, I mean, your family have had him about twelve years. He probably should have died about four times by now.
Hermione: Come on, let's check out the pet store *heads out the back of the Leaky Cauldron*
Ron: Okay, through the wonderwall we go *gets punched by Harry* OW! What was that for?
Harry: Sorry, that's just my kneejerk reaction to someone referencing Oasis *punches himself*
Ron: Jeez Harry, don't look back in anger *gets punched again*
*at the Magical Menagerie*
Saleswoman: Hello, how may I help you?
Ron: My rat's really sick. Can you help?
Saleswoman: Perhaps. How old is he?
Ron: I dunno, like, eleven? Twelve?
Saleswoman: Hmm…Have you ever considered he is a man?
Ron: What? Of course he's male. We had him neutered a few years back.
Saleswoman: No, as in… *a different mysterious orange blur jumps down from somewhere* NO CROOKSHANKS! No eating the patients…again.
Ron: Okay, I'm outta here *Harry follows him out* Don't worry buddy, we're never gonna see that horrid cat again.
Hermione: *coming out of the store* I bought that cat.
Ron: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!
Harry: Yeah Hermione, I don't see you as much of a cat girl. At least, not since…
Hermione: You don't want to finish that sentence.
*later, at dinner*
Arthur: So, tomorrow we head to King's Cross in some cars the Ministry is hiring. And for some reason, they've made it very clear that I am not allowed to modify them into flying.
Molly: Oh, I wonder why that is.
Arthur: I know. The last one worked perfectly fine. It even made it all the way to Hogwarts. I just wish those carjackers hadn't stolen it.
Molly: For the last time, it was your son.
Arthur: It was? Fred, I'm very disappointed in you.
Fred: Hey, it wasn't me this time.
Arthur: Oh, sorry. George, I'm…
George: Guess again dad.
Arthur: Well, one of you is lying.
Molly: Why did I even marry you? Oh, right, to get a daughter out of you. The most perfect daughter in the world.
Ginny: Hitler was just misunderstood.
Harry: I take it this is because you caught Lucius Malfoy being evil last year?
Arthur: Who said it had anything to do with Sirius Black?
Harry: I didn't…
Arthur: And I definitely didn't say anything about him being your…
Molly: And that's the kids cue to go to bed.
Harry: Why does hiding crucial or shocking information seem to be a recurring theme in these books? And by that I mean in young adult fiction in general?
Author's note: A few days late, but happy 20th birthday Harry Potter. And to J. K. Rowling, if you ever see this, thank you for the greatest book series of all time. You are one of the reasons I got into writing, so thank you for everything you've done.
