Ollivander: I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter.
Harry Potter: Wow, you must have a great memory.
O: No, I've actually only sold seven wands.
HP: And this company has been around for... how long exactly?
O: Hey, the sign says good wands. It didn't say anything about them not exploding, taking the holder with it in to the fiery PITS OF HELL AND ETERNAL DAMNATION!
Ollivander has quite worked himself up, one eye red and popping out, breathing heavily, spinning round and round like a Spice Girl trying to play hula-hoops.
HP: Actually, I think I'll go elsewhere for my wand...
____________________
Harry and Hagrid were attracting a lot of funny looks on the underground, perhaps because of Harry's aubergine uncontrollable urges to say random pink colour names, perhaps from Hagrid occasionally pushing random people onto the tracks to see them try to get back up before the 101 came along, or perhaps from the oddly shaped packages. ("Harry, look at this, only ten galleons!") Yes, Hagrid had found muggle sex shops hysterical and bought several 'toys' but made Harry carry them, on the pretence of "You're the one with the trolley, you carry them."
He hadn't even bothered to cover them from public view.
HP: Hagrid, don't you think people will find an eleven year old carrying these things strange?
H: What's that?
HP: I said don't you think it's weird?
Hagrid slowly edges toward Harry, subtly forcing him more toward the edge of the platform.
H: SORRY, Harry, I couldn't GET what you were SAYING?
Harry is getting really scared now.
HP: Nothing!
H: Very good. Now, I think we should get a train...
HP: Exactly. Just what I was thinking.
Hagrid pushes a young girl of about four onto the tracks. She screeches as the train pulls up.
Young girl: Hey bitch, that hurt!
H: shuduuuurp biatch...
He pokes her and she dies.
____________________
Harry's last month with the Dursleys was not fun. True, they did give him twice as much food, gave him all of Dudley's things, and kicked Dudley out so they could spend more Quality Time with Harry, but this did become a bit depressing after a while.
So he kept to his room, with his new owl. He had decided to call her Anthrax, a name he had found in his History of Magic book. Oh, wait on, he found that name when his only friend died of it the year previous.
It was lucky Petunia didn't come in to hoover anymore, as Anthrax kept on bringing in human body parts.
Harry thought it time to ask for a lift to Kings Cross.
HP: Uh, Uncle Vernon, can I have a lift tomorrow?
UV: Yep. Have to go in there anyway.
HP: Why?
UV: Dudley rolled onto his cattle prod while sleeping and we have to take him to hospital – he keeps on saying random names of fruit, countries, and colours randomly.
HP: HAHAHAHA!
Vernon poked him with Dudley's cattle prod and he became a selective mute.
UV: Now go to your room and eat some blueberry pancakes, boy! And while you're at it you can finish off Dudley's Resident Evil game. God knows you're better then him anyway.
Harry nodded depressedly and slumped up to his room, unhappily switching on the PlayStation and screaming at Petunia.
HP: HEY BITCH, GO MAKE ME SOME FUCKIN' BLUEBERRY PANCAKES!
AP: Ok. Maple syrup?
HP: Why god why? I haven't given up on LIFE! GOLDEN syrup, dickcheese!
____________________
That's the end of chap no. 3. Plz review!
Harry Potter: Wow, you must have a great memory.
O: No, I've actually only sold seven wands.
HP: And this company has been around for... how long exactly?
O: Hey, the sign says good wands. It didn't say anything about them not exploding, taking the holder with it in to the fiery PITS OF HELL AND ETERNAL DAMNATION!
Ollivander has quite worked himself up, one eye red and popping out, breathing heavily, spinning round and round like a Spice Girl trying to play hula-hoops.
HP: Actually, I think I'll go elsewhere for my wand...
____________________
Harry and Hagrid were attracting a lot of funny looks on the underground, perhaps because of Harry's aubergine uncontrollable urges to say random pink colour names, perhaps from Hagrid occasionally pushing random people onto the tracks to see them try to get back up before the 101 came along, or perhaps from the oddly shaped packages. ("Harry, look at this, only ten galleons!") Yes, Hagrid had found muggle sex shops hysterical and bought several 'toys' but made Harry carry them, on the pretence of "You're the one with the trolley, you carry them."
He hadn't even bothered to cover them from public view.
HP: Hagrid, don't you think people will find an eleven year old carrying these things strange?
H: What's that?
HP: I said don't you think it's weird?
Hagrid slowly edges toward Harry, subtly forcing him more toward the edge of the platform.
H: SORRY, Harry, I couldn't GET what you were SAYING?
Harry is getting really scared now.
HP: Nothing!
H: Very good. Now, I think we should get a train...
HP: Exactly. Just what I was thinking.
Hagrid pushes a young girl of about four onto the tracks. She screeches as the train pulls up.
Young girl: Hey bitch, that hurt!
H: shuduuuurp biatch...
He pokes her and she dies.
____________________
Harry's last month with the Dursleys was not fun. True, they did give him twice as much food, gave him all of Dudley's things, and kicked Dudley out so they could spend more Quality Time with Harry, but this did become a bit depressing after a while.
So he kept to his room, with his new owl. He had decided to call her Anthrax, a name he had found in his History of Magic book. Oh, wait on, he found that name when his only friend died of it the year previous.
It was lucky Petunia didn't come in to hoover anymore, as Anthrax kept on bringing in human body parts.
Harry thought it time to ask for a lift to Kings Cross.
HP: Uh, Uncle Vernon, can I have a lift tomorrow?
UV: Yep. Have to go in there anyway.
HP: Why?
UV: Dudley rolled onto his cattle prod while sleeping and we have to take him to hospital – he keeps on saying random names of fruit, countries, and colours randomly.
HP: HAHAHAHA!
Vernon poked him with Dudley's cattle prod and he became a selective mute.
UV: Now go to your room and eat some blueberry pancakes, boy! And while you're at it you can finish off Dudley's Resident Evil game. God knows you're better then him anyway.
Harry nodded depressedly and slumped up to his room, unhappily switching on the PlayStation and screaming at Petunia.
HP: HEY BITCH, GO MAKE ME SOME FUCKIN' BLUEBERRY PANCAKES!
AP: Ok. Maple syrup?
HP: Why god why? I haven't given up on LIFE! GOLDEN syrup, dickcheese!
____________________
That's the end of chap no. 3. Plz review!