Note: For anyone who didn't understand the reference in the last chapter, Mousercises was a part of The Mickey Mouse Show that taught exercise routines for children. If you don't understand the parodies in this chapter, then go to a video store and rent Cinderella and The Matrix. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. Though you would have one messed up childhood if it was based on The Matrix.

Chapter 2: If God is a DJ...

Harry was sitting inside, trying to escape from his miserable life.

"It's not fair!" he said to himself, "My life is horrible, even though I've never done anything wrong. I need to do something!" Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "I know... Since I'm a supernaturally patient and faultlessly nice angst-ridden hero, I can run away and no one will think it's my fault!"

Remembering that his trunk was already packed, Harry looked around his room for anything else he needed.

Considering the Dursleys are always complaining that I look like I've been dragged out of a homeless shelter, you'd think they'd buy me some better clothes. Oh well...

From downstairs, Harry heard his Aunt Petunia yelling.

"Where are you, you worthless brat? You had better get down here soon. Since listening to me screech is much more annoying than anything I'll ever do you, you would think you'd come down here when I start yelling."

As Harry started toward the door, he noticed a little brown mouse on the floor. How did it get in here? he wondered. Aunt Petunia hates mice.

To Harry's astonishment, the mouse opened its mouth and began singing.

"Every time he'd find a minute,
That's the time that they begin it.
Harry, Harry,"

"BOY! Get down here!" bellowed Vernon.

"Harry, Harry, Harry,
Night and day it's 'Harry,
Clean the car, fix the breakfast,
Wash the dishes, do the mopping...'"

"Who... what the heck are you?" Harry asked, amazed.

"'And the sweeping, and the dusting';
They always keep him hopping."

Out on his windowsill, a bird started singing.

"Get out of my room!" Harry shouted.

"Poor, poor Harry."

The mouse turned around and scurried out of the room. Harry shrugged, and walked through the hallway and down the stairs to the inhumanly clean kitchen.

"There you are," barked Vernon. "Now come here so we can abuse you."

"We've decided you're not going back to Hogwarts," stated Aunt Petunia, "and we intend to keep you here for no logical reason, besides our desire to make you as miserable as possible. We're sure we're going to get away with it. If England had any Social Services workers, you'd already be in a foster home."

"What about my friends from school?"

"We're hoping they won't notice that you're gone. They didn't notice the last time we were starving you."

Harry couldn't argue with that, so he went upstairs to get some sleep.

------------------------------------

Harry suddenly woke up in a huge, white room. He stood up, wondering where the heck he was. Out in the distance, someone was walking toward him. As the figure approached him, he recognized Dumbledore. In sunglasses. And a black trench coat.

Dumbledore stopped, a yard from Harry. "Harry, you are the one."

"What?" Harry was very confused.

"You are the one."

"I don't get..."

"Don't ruin the effect," Dumbledore snapped. His tone lightened again. "I'm sure you have many questions for me."

"Yeah, I guess," he agreed.

"Ask."

"What's with the Zen thing? How can you move in that plastic jacket? And what am I standing on? Do you try to freak people out like this?"

"Everything that has a beginning has an end, Harry."

"That's nice, but you didn't answer my question."

"Of course. Heaven forbid I tell you something that you could ever understand. I can't have people making actual informed decisions. I have to try to hide the truth but then let you figure things out, consequently putting you in unnecessary danger."

"Huh?"

Dumbledore made another coat appear from thin air. "Put on the cool, retro outfit, Harry, and in doing so become one with yourself."

"I am one with myself! I'm one fricking person! And I'm not putting on that dollar-store piece of junk."

"They will find you, Harry."

"Whatever."

Harry woke with a start in his darkened bedroom. He tried to inhale a shocked gasp, choked, and gave himself a coughing fit. Once he had calmed down, he looked around his room, and saw a sheet of black plastic hanging over his chair. "Stupid #$ piece of junk."