Harry potter and the author of this fanfic.

Disclaimer: I don't own harry potter, which is why this fic is titled as it is, rather than being harry potter and JK Rowling or something because i'm not jk rowling. Jk rowling owns harry pooter and I don't. As such it is not I who owns harry potter but jk rowling. Duh.

Chapter 1: harry meets a fanfic author while time freezes and they turn him into a girl who can fry the troll and then snape takes points and dumbledore gives more.

Business as usual till Hogwarts begins. Events happen as normal up till the troll, but then time stops.

"Sup Harry?" asked a voice.

"Um... who are you?" harry asked.

"I'm the author. Not JK Rowling, but a fanfic author," They explained. They were wearing a great big cloak and their face was shielded by a dark veil of darkness that was made of darkness.

"Alright, so I was with you up till you said the word author," Harry replied.

"Alright hold on," the author said, pulling out a very sleek and expensive and fancy looking laptop (but harry potter is set in the early 90 so harry didn't know what a laptop was) and typed, "And... then... harry... knew... what... I... was... talking... about."

"Um... so Rowling wrote me, and made the Dursleys hit me with frying pans?" Harry asked, confused.

"I don't think she meant the second part to happen, some authors' creations kind of take on a life of their own, but yeah, so anyway, I have a deal for you. You can do this fight the canon way, which would result in embarrasment and be kind of boring, or I can change your history, preferably in a new way. hm... most things have been done at this point, though. What to do, what to do? Ooh I think I just thought of something. The girl part's been done many times of course, but I've never seen..." the author began typing "And... then... harry... was... a... nerdy... pretty... clever... girl... named... Isabelle... and... the...scar... was... on... her.. left... butt... instead... of... her... forehead."

"What?!" Isabelle Potter protested. The author helpfully held up a giant mirror, the ones in the bathroom weren't working because time was frozen. Harry glared at the girl's long black hair, feminine face, pretty lips, and already b cup breasts. "Why?!"

"It's funny, and don't worry, the Dursleys love you now. And you know more spells, one in particular should get rid of your Uncle Vernon's slightly thinner brother here. It may take some time to sort through your new memories. Also here's a full set of JK Rowling's books, they should come in handy, and they'll look like normal textbooks unless you say the word "squiddlydoodlefluffer," so try not to say that word in casual conversation. And here's a bag of items you're going to need starting next week... actually, let's say, tomorrow morning. Something to look forward to."

Bella looked in the bag, and could only blush. That was most certainly NOT something to look forward to. She glared at the author.

"Hey, no need to get mad. You'll appreciate the changes overall, I'm sure, so now to start the show," the author said, and suddenly time started moving again.

The big smelly troll raised it's club, Isabelle raised her wand. "Fulminos," she cried, and lightning shot out at the troll, it fell over, dead. Just as snape, mcgonagall, and Dumbledore ran into the bathroom.

"What The fucking motherfucking godfuckingdamned superfuck is fucking going the fuck on in this motherfucking bathroom?!" screamed snape while screaming as he frothed at the mouth, his face purple and his eyes bulging with a wrath unmatched by the devil himself.

"I remembered after you guys left that I had heard that hermione was... sick... in the bathroom, so I came to look for her hoping to warn her of the troll and drag her back to the common room. But then the the troll attacked with a big giant club, so I zapped it. I would've ran, but it trapped hermione in the bath room and would've smashed her to tiny bits had I not intervened," Isabelle explained intelligently.

"Well, that fucking explains that, but in the fucking future you should fucking bloody well tell a Doctor-Professor," said Snape.

"?," said Isabelle, "But there weren't any professors in the Great Big Fat Hall at the Tim, and there's no such thing as a doctor-professor!" Isabelle protested.

"ARE YOU GODDAMNED FUCKING INSULTING MY FUCKING GODDAMNED MOTHERFUCKING PROFESSION YOU MOTHERFUCKING PATHETIC FUCKING STUDENT, ELEVENTY BILLION POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" Demanded Snape.

"But cerberus, she is quite correct about that my friend, twentytwoty bullion points to Gryphingdor for being right about stuff." Said Bumble Roar.

"Well that's your opinion!" Schnape schnaid Schneidly.

"Actually it's a fact, "Said dumbulldoor, reading from the big book of all the job titles ever that he pulled out." There is no such thing as a doctor-professor. A doctor who professes is still simply known as a profession, unless he also does doctoring in which case he is just a doctor uncles he wants to be called professior.

"FINE," FINED SNAPE, "BUT ELVENTY BILLION FUCKING POINTS FROM GRYPHON DOOR FOR KNOWING MORE THAN ME!"

"That doesn't seem like a bad thing..." Isabelle protected.

"AND ELEVENTY FUCKING BILLION FUCKING MORE GODDAMN POINTS FOR FUCKING TALKING FUCKING BACK!" snape screamed in a furious fury that would make demons and angels alike run for the mountains.

"And infinity billion untakebackable points to gryffindor for frying a mountain troll. And infinity billion points from slitherin for excessive and ridiculous point taking," said dumble boar wisely.

"But... but... but," snape stamped.

And then Isabelle Pooter went back to her rooms to sleep that were the Gryffindorms.