Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This is a fan made work of fiction, that is non-profit. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury, Scholastic and... whoever else has the rights.
Warnings:
1. At this point, this is a super low effort story. This may change, this may not. Don't take this story seriously at all. At least at this point.
2. Almost everyone is OoC. Please don't tell me in the reviews that 'this character doesn't act like this, that character is not so stupid,' et cetera. I know. This fic is mostly for fun. Iff you didn't have fun, then well, sorry for wasting your time.
3. I wrote this to (mostly) poke fun at all the WBWL stories. In no way do I hate, neither do I condone any hate or toxic comments, at these fics. If you are an author who has written such fics, this is not meant to be against any of you. However, I do agree that most can be quite stupid, and that includes this one. I also think that almost anything can be parodied, which is the whole reason behind this fic.
4. I have planned nothing for this story, literally making it up as I go along. So expect plot holes and stuff, and feel free to tell me if you spot them. Rest assured, all plot holes that may happen will be entirely by mistake, and I will try my best to ensure that there aren't any.
5. Adding to the previous warning, and perhaps the most important one, I will stop this story if I get bored of it. Or if I run out of ideas. So if you choose to follow the story, keep this in mind.
Chapter One
Albus Dumbledore hurried to Godric's Hollow. The Potters had been attacked, which he knew because the extra layer of protection that he himself had placed had fallen.
The Potters and their twin children were under the Fidelius, which was his own idea, but they hadn't informed Dumbledore as to who the Secret Keeper was. As a precautionary measure, he had added his own layer of protection, but clearly Tom had seen through that as well.
As Dumbledore saw the house, he feared the worst. A large chunk of the house was missing. There was debris everywhere, and the parts that were left standing could fall any moment.
He quickly placed stability charms with his wand, rushing inside. To his pleasant surprise, none of the Potters were dead. Unfortunately, they were all unconscious. The Dark Lord was nowhere to be seen. Dumbledore levitate all of their bodies outside to safety.
Dumbledore looked around, trying to deduce what had happened.
'James and Tom duelled… James was tossed to the side, hit his head and lost consciousness. Perhaps Tom didn't want to kill him or thought him dead,' Dumbledore deduced. Then he turned around to look at the area he found Lily and the twins.
'Lily was knocked out with a simple stunner. Also hit her head. Surprising,' Dumbledore mused. Then he turned his attention to the twins.
He stopped. "No... This can't be..."
And yet, it had happened. The twins, both of them, had the residue of the Killing Curse. Which meant that the Killing Curse backfired on Tom.
The house must have been destroyed by the backfire. But Dumbledore did not know what happened to Tom Riddle.
"Ugh, what hit me," James muttered as he came back to consciousness. "Huh, Headmaster? Am I seeing things or are there three of you?"
"James," Dumbledore muttered. He must have hit his head hard, given that he was seeing double. Or triple, in this case.
Dumbledore ennervated Lily, before casting some basic healing spells on James. He then explained everything he had learned to the two.
"So..."
The Dark Lord is Dead!
That is correct, the Dark Lord is no more! Rejoice and celebrate! In a very happy and interesting turn of events, the Dark Lord has been defeated, by the Boy-Who-Lived, the younger twin brothe—
Dumbledore shook his head as he put down the newspaper. He looked at Fawkes with a tired gaze. "I told those two that Tom was defeated, and he would most certainly be back. Why did they misinterpret such a simple thing? More importantly, why did they tell the press that only one of the two is the Boy-Who-Lived? What do you think, Fawkes?"
Fawkes blinked, cocking his head to the side. 'Because you humans are fucking idiots and not one day goes by that I regret meeting you damn apes. Especially that fucktard Godric for trapping me here,' is what he wanted to say, but all he could do was trill melodiously.
Dumbledore leaned back with a happy smile. "Ahh, I do love your singing, Fawkes."
Fawkes trilled again, lifting Dumbledore's spirits further. 'Ugh if only this old fuck could speak Phoenix.'
"What a beautiful sound. It just makes all your worries melt!" Of course, Dumbledore could not actually understand what the Phoenix was saying, but only hear the melodious trill.
'I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING JUKEBOX!'
"That was a bit loud, but so wonderfully uplifting..."
'Fuck you and I hope you die painfully. Asshole.'
"I could fall asleep to this."
'Goddammit.'
Harry had no idea why his parents left him at his Aunt and Uncle. At first, he hated the Dursleys, and they hated him. The only explanation was that they did not want two children, so they gave one to Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Or maybe there was some other reason, but Petunia made it clear that not even his own parents wanted him when he was first dumped on them when he was four.
Dudley was no better either. The constant bullying and fighting that he and his friends did to Harry made Harry's life downright miserable at first. However, one thing he had learned quite quickly was that if they wanted to hurt him, he just needed to distract them.
Which he often did by making them see things. At first Harry had no idea how he was doing that, but when he was five, he had accidentally made Dudley and Piers ignore him and go play with a football instead. To them, he was invisible. However, there was no football present. Harry had wondered if he was the crazy one, as all the Dursley and Polkiss parents had to tell the kids to leave the football alone.
Then, through a lot of experimentation, he had figured out that he could make them see things, much like an illusion. He had kept this fact towards himself, not wanting the extra attention.
Of course, casting the illusion took effort, and the more intricate and detailed he made the illusion, the more tired he would feel. Harry himself could not explain to anyone how he was doing this. To him, it felt instinctual.
Like moving a muscle, or doing something as mundane as lifting up an arm. To Harry, casting an illusion on someone was that simple.
Of course, he soon started to use this more and more, to the point where Dursleys now believed that Harry was just a child they took in from the kindness of their hearts, rather than Harry being dumped on them from a family who decided that they did not want him. As such, he was treated a lot better, and even the Dursleys were seen as a very kind couple who were providing for this poor, orphan child.
As a result of his illusions that were affecting their minds, even Dudley was much more friendlier towards him. He was still the bully to most people, but he left Harry to his own devices.
Of course, having such an absurdly powerful ability, Harry wanted to do what all kids his age dreamed of: be a superhero, with his own superhero name and costume. Not that he would ever admit it or say it out loud, he would daydream about that quite a bit, having thought of the ideal name and having designed the costume and stuff.
Which was why, at the age of ten, a few weeks away from eleven, Harry was quite surprised when he received a letter from a school called Hogwarts.
His first thought was to show this to the Dursley's but he thought against it. If they found out that he had been implanting illusions in their minds, they would go back to neglecting and abusing him.
Harry, of course, had no idea how to reply, or even if he was supposed to. Sure, the letter said he had to, but that owl had not stayed long enough. Either way, he had written down his response, in what he hoped was the correct method to format a letter.
That night, he left the A4 paper on which he had written down his response, and went to sleep in his room, not knowing that the same owl came and picked it up.
"Albus," Minerva McGonagal called out as she entered the office.
Dumbledore looked up, "Whatever it is you think I did, I definitely did not do."
Minerva looked at him in confusion. "I was going to ask you about the Potter boy. He wrote his response on paper, and the address is not from Potter Manor, but the Dursley House? Was he visiting Lily's side of the family? What did you do?"
Dumbledore heaved a sigh of relief. "Nothing at all!" He said. He hoped that Minerva would not go through the finances, or else she would discover an order for a five kilogram packet of lemon drops, on the Hogwarts account.
Then he decided to address what Minerva was saying. "I don't know. Contrary to popular belief, I don't keep tabs on the Potters on the off chance that one of their children is subject to a prophecy that marks them as the one to defeat Voldemort. I have three very busy jobs you know."
Minerva looked at him, confused. "I'm gonna ignore that. But what to do about Harry?"
"Who? Oh right, the elder Potter twin. Right. Perhaps you should have asked the parents first and not the headmaster of a school who literally has not met either of them since the attack on their home?"
Minerva sighed. "I did... Lily and James both said something about him being a dark wizard! Can you believe that?!" She was downright outraged at that.
Dumbledore blinked in confusion. "A Dark Wizard? But they're both whi– oh you meant... ignore that. Do those two even know what a dark wizard is? We don't exactly cover the definition in the curriculum, because it is quite subjective, and some people were outraged at the whole 'dark is evil' thing also something about 'light wants to destroy our ancient traditions' and don't even get me started on 'dark is just misunderstood'. Apparently its super overdone; tends to be boring. It still gets over a thousand follows and stuff for some reason."
"What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?"
"Oh, its right up there with weasel abuse. Did you know that many a powerful Pureblood noble lords hate weasels for simply existing and wanting a family of their own? Like a mother weasel is hated for simply being overprotective of her children! What a time we live in that caring for their young and not wanting their young to go fight in a war is something that is to be hated against! She lost her twin brothers in the previous war, it makes perfect sense that she does not want her children to needlessly die in another pointless war! It makes me sick!" Dumbledore said, a bit angrily.
Then he took a deep breath, calming down. "Sorry, Pomona brought me this magical herb called Psilocybin, that she claimed was excellent when taken with Lemon drops. She was lying, but my mind isn't quite the same than it was before I took it."
Minerva closed her eyes, rubbing her temples. "I'll have Professor Snape bring a purging potion...but about Harry Potter?"
"Show me the response at least," Dumbledore said.
Minerva handed him the letter.
"Hm, seems simple enough, just send Hagrid to get him..."
"You want to send a half-giant into a muggle neighbourhood?" Minerva asked incredulously.
"Okay, you racist!" Dumbledore glared. "I will tolerate a super obsessed thirty something year old Potions teacher that believes that he is entitled to a married woman but I will not tolerate racism!"
"I meant that he would stand out quite easily, and...nevermind, I am going to get him myself. Or send Filius." Minerva was really feeling the headache now.
"Filius? But he has goblin blood in him! And those goblins hate me because I am supposedly after the gold that belongs to ancient lost Pureblood vaults that have no heirs but they have kept said vaults active for centuries for the slim chance that someone comes and claims them!"
Minerva left the office, and headed straight for Severus Snape's office. She now needed a purging potion for the headmaster, and a headache relieving potion for herself.
Harry wondered if he should reveal his illusion and his talents at illusions to the old lady who appeared at their door. Vernon Dursley was off to work, and thankfully Petunia was out for lunch with her friends. Dudley had gone to school. As for Harry, this was one of the days he just did not feel like attending. He was proficient in his illusions well enough to make the Dursleys think that he was in school, and when he would attend the day after, a simple illusion would make the teachers and students never even realize that he was absent.
It had been quite a lucky turn of events when the old woman, who had introduced herself as 'Minerva McGonagal' had shown up.
They had travelled to this place called Diagon Alley in London, whose entrance was through a small pub called Leaky Cauldron. Harry had asked if the pub was themed in a more classical way, given that he did not see any beer spouts or even a TV. In fairness, he had never actually been to a pub, just heard about them or seen them in TV shows.
"Actually, Mr. Potter, magic and electricity do not mix. Magic causes electric equipment to... what's the term... I believe short-circuit?" Minerva replied to that.
"But... this whole magical hotspot is in the smack-dab in the middle of London! So many magical people and things and not one non magical noticed that there was a large dark-zone where not a single electric device is working?" Harry asked.
"Actually, the whole area is guarded by magical barriers that... wait. These barriers are also magic. Why did it not affect the electric equipment in the buildings that surround the Leaky Cauldron? I will get back to you on that," Minerva answered.
The first shop they entered was Ollivander's.
"Ah, young Harry Potter.. why I remember like it was yesterday when your parents came to buy their wands," Ollivander said, after listing Minerva's wand and asking her if it served her well.
"Cool but can we get straight to my wand?" Harry asked.
Ollivander chuckled as Minerva frowned. She wanted to chide Harry for being disrespectful, but Ollivander stopped her. "Straight to the point, hmm? Very well. Lets get started. Lets see..."
Twenty minutes and about thirty wands later
"Are wands absolutely necessary?" Harry asked as another wand was taken away from him.
Ollivander had a small frown on his face as he looked at Harry. "You have already practiced magic, have you not?"
"How can that be? He has no wand nor does he have the knowledge," Minerva cut in.
Harry sheepishly chuckled. "Yeah...on occasion."
Ollivander shook his head. "No, young boy. It is something you do everyday. Your magic has already developed heavily, and shows active use. It will be very, very difficult to match a new wand to a fully developed magical child."
"Ollivander, you are not making any sense," Minerva said.
"Oh right, I forget that Hogwarts took out Magical Theory from their curriculum after Dippet came into power," Ollivander grumbled. "In short, magic only starts developing as soon as a child starts using it. Of course, accidental magic occurs as a result of a child subconsciously realizing that they have magic, and never from conscious effort. It is a hotly debated topic that should magic be allowed to develop without a wand, then wands will not be necessary."
"Then why not remove wands altogether?" Minerva asked. "If Mr. Potter is any indication, then–"
"It would destroy the wand makers such as myself," Ollivander said in an annoyed tone. "Do you have any idea what would happen to the economy if an entire industry is forced to shut down? Besides, Mr. Potter here may as well be an isolated case. In any case, I will need to craft a wand for you from scratch because of this that is suited to a partially developed magical core rather than an undeveloped one. Or spend about thirty years going through all these wands I crafted before hand using all possible permutations and combinations of each and every wood and core available so that we find the correct match."
"Its gonna cost extra, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"Don't you worry, it will be charged on the Potter family Vault, as is the case for all heirs and heiresses to Pureblood families."
Harry looked at Minerva in confusion, who simply gave him a look that said, 'later.'
On the first of September, Vernon dropped Harry off at King Cross Station.
Minerva McGonagal had told him how to get to Platform 9 and three quarters, which had further confused him. There was a magical portal in the middle of the busiest station in all of London but it somehow never caused problem for the trains or passengers. Trains that literally ran on electricity.
Of course, the professor had asked him how he could already perform magic, and Harry had done his best to answer.
Also Harry had to wonder about the existence of Platform 9 and a one-fourth, and Platform 9 and a half, but Minerva had avoided the question.
As he was boarding the train, he wondered what would happen to the illusions that made the Dursleys believe that he was an orphan rather than their nephew whom they used to hate.
That is it for now. Adding to the whole low effort thing, I literally wrote this in three or so hours of free time that I had. Which is why the other twin doesn't even have a name, nor do I have a reason as to why Harry was abandoned. Like I said in the warnings, I wrote this ONLY for the shits and giggles. Now, I could go back and add that in, but... I am also a lazy fuck so I won't. Also, I really need to think of a better name for this fic.
Harry being an illusions prodigy was something that I originally meant to use for Son of Athena, but because of certain reasons I decided against it. If you are wondering what are the components of his wand, and why does he need it, or why did I put that in a fic that is essentially a parody rather than using it in a well thought out, much more meaningful story, well, I don't know yet either. I did say that I am making this shit up as I go.
Secondly, look back to most of the fics that have Harry with a custom wand. You'd think that this is important somehow, but it is never even brought up again, making you wonder what was the point of Harry being given a custom, super powerful, infinity plus one wand in the first place. At least in canon the wand was quite symbolic at first, and a plot point in the later books.
If you're wondering what is Psilocybin, its shrooms. That's right, Dumbledore was tripping balls on shrooms. If you say 'thats not how shrooms work!' my response is don't bring your muggle science in my magical fanfic.
I hope you all had a laugh, and if not, I'm sorry.
#StopWeaselAbuse