CHAPTER 2
I love the smell of Mudbloods in the morning, commented Voldemort, killing several with a Blow Sh-t Up Curse. Charlie don't play Quidditch. agreed Wormtail. Voldemort checked his watch. Antonin Scalia should have joined them on their hunt half an hour ago, like they had agreed. He was beginning to think the man might simply be a Muggle who looked good in robes. Maybe he should be working on evil plans instead of blowing up Mudbloods. It was time to go back to the actual story.
Potter! Weasley! called Professor McGonnagall. said Harry. She looked confused. Then a look of realization crossed her severe face. Oh, I'm sorry, boys. she said. I get paid three Galleons whenever I say Potter' or Weasley'. Go back to your breakfast. They complied. Potter! Weasley! They continued eating. POTTER! WEASLEY! I'M REALLY TALKING TO YOU, DAMMIT! They spun around. The headmaster would like to speak to you two. Again. she said. They walked by her. Potter! Weasley! she said to the wall.
Dumbledore pulled several large spiders out of his beard. He set them aside, planning to put them down Ron's back the next chance he got.
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the two boys coming into the room. GAH! Don't DO that! he yelled. I... I mean, welcome, boys. Sit down. I am going to tell you everything. Wait, wait a minute. interrupted Harry. You already did this in the last book. It was irritating then, too. No, everything everything. explained Dumbledore. You see, Harry, you are not a normal boy. Yeah, I know that too. said Harry. Can we go now? NO. You see, you are the... I know, the boy who lived. said Harry impatiently. Dumbledore laughed. Screw the boy who lived! You're the most marketable franchise since James Bond! There are action figures of your action figures! You're approaching Spider-Man level in terms of licensing! Harry turned to look at Ron, who looked absolutely petrified. Wrong book. Harry reminded the author. I'm sorry, absolutely terrified. Dumbledore put his wand down the back of Ron's robes, aiming a jet of fire at the spiders he had put there and inadvertantly giving him second-degree burns . Ron breathed a sigh of relief as the smell of burning meat filled the air. So I'm famous, Harry said. I knew that too. What else did you want to show me? Dumbledore cleared his throat. Harry Potter, meet Daniel Radcliffe. A boy who looked about Harry's age stepped from behind a curtain. Harry choked back a scream. Oh my God! he gasped. He looks vaguely like me! That's the point. said Dumbledore sagely. You see, with all these movies and crap, we've decided to replace book continuity with film continuity. Harry gasped. You mean... Dobby is Jar Jar Binks? There's only one Quidditch match per year? Peeves doesn't exist? Dumbledore nodded. Exactly. According to your contract -- which you are still a prisoner of--, however, there can only be one Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. You, Ron and Hermione will have to leave, effective immediately. Radcliffe was smirking at Harry from behind his fake glasses. Harry clenched his fists. I swear, Radcliffe, as God is my witness, you shall pay. PAY! Oh, that reminds me. said Dumbledore. He put a sack the size of a Pontiac Aztec on the desk. These are your royalties. he said. Harry was still glaring at Radcliffe with hatred in his soul. Without warning, in all his evil glory, Voldemort burst into the room, his wand at the ready and an expression of wicked triumph in his vile scarlet eyes. At last! he crowed. After five whole books of you wriggling through my fingers like... like something that wriggles! At last, Harry Potter, I am going to totally KILL you and stuff! Oh, bite me. said Harry. I've got a new archnemesis. He took a pistol out of his pocket and shot the Dark Lord in the head. Harry looked at the gun and got an idea. He turned toward Dumbledore, but he wasn't fast enough. Accio Glock. said the headmaster, the weapon zooming into his hand. Screw this noise. said Harry. He grabbed Ron and ran from the room. Dumbledore kicked open the desk and removed a Thompson from it. Seh hello ta my li'l frien'. he said, in a hideous imitation of Al Pacino. Harry ducked as a hail of bullets followed him out the door of the office.