The Alternate Universe – a.k.a. Harry Potter and the Businessman's Briefcase
Chapter One - The Boy Who Snitched
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number fourteen, Cluttered Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly deviant. They were the last people you would expect to be involved in anything plain and boring, because they just did not hold with such sagacity.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grubbings, which made cauldrons. He was a lean and skinny man with a long neck and a grizzly beard. Mrs. Dursley was plump and blonde with a little neck and kind eyes. She worked in the Little Moaning Playschool, which looked after little children whilst their magical parents went to work. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley, and in their opinion, there was no finer boy anywhere.
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They did not think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they had not met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she did not have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-noting husband were as unwizardish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived on their street. The Dursleys knew the Potters had a son too, and they didn't want Dudley to be mixing with a boy like that.
When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on one extravagant Tuesday morning, the day our story starts, there was nothing in Mrs. Dursley's Tea Leaves that suggested something quite so boring would be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley sang the Bulgarian National Quidditch Anthem at the top of his lungs whilst picking out some blue and green striped robes to match his lilac cloak that was hanging downstairs on the cloak-rack.
Mrs. Dursley was already downstairs when he apparated into the kitchen, feeding him Magic-O's with her wand whilst she turned on the radio to listen to Celestina Warbeck on the Breakfast Show. Dudley ate silently, gurgling and blowing little bubbles of milk through his nose.
None of them noticed a large blue van drive past the window.
Mr. Dursley picked up his stack of cauldron order-forms from the mantelpiece and lit a fire quickly before kissing Mrs. Dursley on the cheek and blowing a rather prickly raspberry on Dudley's forehead. The boy squealed in delight and started to pull faces at the spoon that was feeding him. Mr. Dursley then left the house and pulled on his rather large helmet before mounting his motorcycle and launching it into the air. It was at the first traffic lights that Mr. Dursley noticed a man wearing a suit sitting on the park bench. For a second Mr. Dursley didn't realise what he had seen, then he jerked his head around and looked at the man again. How very peculiar it was, watching the man read a newspaper, especially without causing an explosion or at least muttering to himself. Mr. Dursley shook his head. Men don't simply read the newspaper! He supposed the man was probably hiding a spell book behind the paper, or maybe a dangerous animal. Yes, he thought. He was probably trying to act normal so he could conceal a dragon or something. As the motorcycle flew into town, Mr. Dursley was hoping to find his office filled with busy owls and emergency floo-calls where he'd have to sort things out with the cauldron deliveries.
He waved cheerfully at several teenagers on Broomsticks as his motorbike came to a stop outside the little shop in Sapphire Alley. He looked across the street and couldn't help noticing there was a woman wearing a business suit and red striped tie. Mr. Dursley could not stand people who thought dressing strangely was cool. He gave another glance and saw a man, dressed in dungarees check his watch! How absurd, Mr. Dursley thought, wrinkling his nose a little as he packed his motorcycle up and stowed it into his bulging briefcase, that was incidentally decorated with dragon patches and a badge bearing his favourite Quidditch Team's logo, a meat cleaver.
Mr. Dursley entered his shop where they sold Grubbings cauldrons, and placed his lilac cloak on the barking cloak-pegs before strolling into his office. He might have found it harder to concentrate on cauldrons if he had looked outside his window. People in suits and overalls were muttering excitedly to each other, exchanging bits of paper and taking out little black boxes they whispered into in hushed voices. He didn't see men in blue uniforms exchanging letters to people then running off. In fact his morning was as unusual as ever, until lunch-break came and he decided to have a stroll and go into Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and treat himself to a pumpkin sorbet. He sat down outside in the bright sun, eating away until he heard some people talking. He looked up to see an old man with a black box squashed to his ear with his shoulder and talking rapidly. He was wearing a trench coat and a round bowler hat, one hand writing things down quickly on a notepad clutched in the other. That's when Mr. Dursley noticed he wasn't holding a quill, but more like a round piece of plastic.
'Potters - yes, their son Harry, right?' the man said in a hurried voice. 'All right, get the Hypnotists there immediately.'
Fear flooded into him as soon as he heard the words. Potters... he was sure their son had been called Harry, but it could have been Harvey. He immediately ran back to the shop and went straight to the fireplace, before suddenly deciding against it. It was best not to worry her this time of the day, he decided. He didn't blame her either, if he'd had a sister like that - but all the same, the people in suits...
When the time came for Mr. Dursley to go home after selling a few deals to other wizards, he noticed the man with the newspaper again, still reading. Mr. Dursley cursed him quickly so his newspaper flew out of his hands... and the man ignored him! The nerve, Mr. Dursley thought, for that had been a very good spell. He drove into the driveway, furious, cursing a few letterboxes as he landed.
During dinner that evening, Mrs. Dursley told him all about this new article she'd read about potions, and a new article in the paper about the Quidditch Cup tickets ready to be pre-booked. It was then, when Dudley was safe in his room and Mrs. Dursley was charming a few ornaments to do the washing up, that Mr. Dursley decided to inform his wife of the unusual sights he had seen.
'Petunia, darling, do you know your nephew's name?' he asked timidly. One of the ornaments dropped a plate it was drying in the kitchen.
'It's Harry' she snapped. Mr. Dursley suddenly decided not to tell her after all.
As the Dursleys soon went to sleep, something on the ground was moving. The man who had been reading the newspaper got up and took out a black box. He pressed tiny little buttons on it before placing it against his ear.
'Hello, this Stanley McMonnohawk,' he said. There was a lot of muttering before 'Yes, cut the grid with a locker! Of course you should, you idiot! Where's Brenda?'
'Here, Stanley.' A young woman came out underneath the streetlamp and stared at him through her half-moon glasses. She had black hair tied tightly in a bun, and was wearing a blue suit. There was a crest on it, cannon on one side and a crow on the other, divided by a diagonal line of three corn stacks.
'You're late' Stanley muttered.
'Well, I've been celebrating Harry Potter's achievements. He hacked into Mouldyport's mainframe and corrupted his evil empire. We're now all tax free!'
'But his poor parents... death by Celine Dion's Greatest Hits on loop. The horror' Stanley cried. Brenda fished out a small bar and started to peal off the wrapping.
'Do you want a Mars Bar?' she asked.
'I think I'll miss. All those calories...' tutted Stanley, waving a low-calorie snack bar in her face.
'I'll work out at the School Gym later' said Brenda.
'I don't know how you keep such a toned look' Stanley sighed, pulling at his suit.
'It comes with being newly appointed Headmistress, Professor McMonnohawk'
'Headmistress Brenda Mumblemore... it's catchy' Stanley sighted.
'Why thank you' Brenda smiled.
'My pleasure' Stanley McMonnohawk smiled. There was an awkward silence.
'Right, back to business' Brenda said.
'Yes, well I've been watching the Dursleys all day. They are as Wuggle as you can get! Not a single straight line in their house and fashion mistakes everywhere!' They both shuddered.
'They are the only living relatives he has' Professor Mumblemore sighed. 'He has to live here, until he can legally live by himself.'
'The poor soul' Stanley groaned. Brenda shook her head.
'Well, Professor Battygen's estimate came true. We are free from tax and corruption by Mouldyport's empire, for now' she said.
'Don't say that name! It is as if you do not fear the same sleazebag as everyone else. He-Who-Must-Never-Compromise was a truly terrible Corporate Owner' Stanley hissed.
'True, but he has gone for now. You must celebrate with Professor Snappe; I managed to trick him into washing his hair. That was so hilarious' Brenda said, chuckling to herself.
'What about Madgrid? Can you trust such a hacker with Harry?' Professor McMonnohawk said.
'I would trust Madgrid with my hard drive, Stanley' Brenda smiled. McMonnohawk gasped.
'You are a great person, Brenda' Stanley smiled. Brenda looked at her watch. It was an unusual watch with three hands, one moving very quickly, the other just ticking when the first reached the top and the last not moving at all. It must have made sense to Mumblemore because she tutted and said 'Madgrid's late.'
'Not digital?' Stanley pondered, peering at the watch. 'Mine's the latest from Swaps. They've got a new line of holograms ready to be chipped into the system.'
'I prefer the old fashioned kind. You can't get enough of the basics sometimes' Brenda said thoughtfully. Suddenly the streetlamps all shut off at once.
'Finally' Stanley McMonnohawk incensed. Brenda slapped his arm. There was a roaring sound when a huge whirring disc hovered down from above them. Brenda beamed and Stanley scowled.
A large man with rather large eyes and thick sideburns hovered in, his arms wrapped tightly around a small bundle. He was very tall and rather muscular, with black hair. The man was sporting a white coat.
'Madgrid, how nice of you to join us' said Stanley coldly. Madgrid chuckled.
'Minibus Black gave me this 'overcraft. It broke down on the way-' he noticed Stanley's glare '- nothin' ter frown at me for!'
'Yes, quite understandable, Madgrid' Brenda said kindly. She gave him a smile and held her arms out to receive the bundle.
'He's been good all the way here' Madgrid smiled, tears shining in his huge eyes. He passed the bundle over delicately.
'Ah, Harry Potter' Brenda said, smiling at the black-haired baby. A gust blew down the street, ruffling the baby's hair. There, smack-bang in the centre of his forehead was a squiggly line.
'What the heck is that?' Stanley grimaced, staring at the odd shape on Harry's brow. 'Is that where He... touched him?'
'I'm afraid so' Brenda sighed, tearing herself away from making crazy faces at the baby, who laughed cutely.
'Can't you do something about it?' Stanley whined.
'Look, Stanley if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all! How can you be so rude to our saviour, and such an adorable baby?' she said, now tickling his nose slightly.
'Sorry' Stanley said, backing away.
'Well, anyway, we'll leave him on the doorstep, ring the doorbell and run like the clappers around the corner' Brenda said, smiling as Harry gurgled.
'Wow, what a great plan!' said Madgrid enthusiastically. Stanley sighed.
'How will everything be explained?' he asked, poking at Harry's hairline.
'In a letter' Brenda said casually.
'Oh, that's fine then. Real smooth' Stanley groaned sarcastically. 'We'd be better with a hologram of ourselves explaining the whole thing.'
'We don't want to scare them,' Brenda urged him. 'Oh, come on, Stanley! He'll be fine! The Wuggles wouldn't like it if we went about broadcasting our identities anyway. Plus, the letter's quite long.' Stanley glanced from Brenda to Madgrid's pleading faces, Brenda's bottom lip wavering cutely.
'Oh, all right!' he sighed. Brenda hugged him.
'Thank you!' she cried before running down the path towards the Dursley's front door.
'On the count of three' she said, placing Harry on the doorstep. 'One... two... three!' They all burst into speed and ran down the road, the annoying chime of the doorbell chasing after them. Madgrid tripped on a crack in the pavement as they neared the corner, thudding onto the road. Brenda shrugged and darted on as Madgrid got to his feet. They all waited in silence before hearing a blood-curdling scream.
'They found Harry' Stanley informed them.
'All right, activate molecular transporters-' she quickly reached for Madgrid's hand '- You share with me. And we go in three... two... one... go!'
There was a blinding blue flash and the three strange people disappeared.