Look, I didn't want to be reincarnated as Harry Potter.
Sure, I had joked about it a couple of times with my friends, but that didn't mean I wanted it to actually happen. Because that would everyone I knew and loved wasn't even born yet, or didn't know me.
But still, here I was, in this mess, a newborn infant.
I don't remember how I died. Heck, for all I knew, I wasn't dead. Maybe I was hallucinating, maybe I was dreaming, I don't know. The only thing I did know was that I was a newborn.
At first, everything had been blurry. Dark shapes were above me, loud voices echoed.
"Lily! It's a boy!" A male voice above me said.
I opened my mouth, trying to say, no, I wasn't a boy, thank you very much, but all that came out was the cry of a baby. What was happening?
I was cradled in strong arms, passed around between someone named Padfoot, (did some Harry Potter nerd actually nickname his friend that?) until I was passed back to my mother, Lily.
She rocked me gently, and gave me a name.
"Harry." Great, both of them! What next, I was going to be set up for play dates with some kid named Ron?
"Harry Potter."
You heard it here first, theydies and gentlefolk. I had been sent back through time and space as the great Harry Potter.
Do I look like an ass named JK Rowling? No. So I don't own Harry Potter. This is written purely because I wanted to try my hand at something like this.
Give me your thoughts on Harry's sorting! I'm a Hufflepuff, so I'm split between my own house, Slytherin, and maybe Gryffindor, but both me and Harry are too stupid for Ravenclaw.