Disclaimer: The last time I checked, Harry Potter wasn't mine. If it is, now, then I certainly don't know about it.

This is a story about Harry Potter.

More specifically this is a story about Harry Potter and a pair of underpants.

Harry was sittting in his bedroom at the Dursleys' house, eating crackerjacks out of a large sack. All of a sudden, his cousin Dudley came in. Dudley smelled like a horrible pot of week-old fish heads. This was because Dudley had decided that, that whole summer, he was not going to change his underpants. They were covered in stains of custard, poo, and other dreadful things that will not be mentioned.

Harry was immediately repulsed by the vile stench of his cousin's underpants. He couldn't eat his crackerjacks any longer because it had taken away his appetite. He looked angrily at Dudley who, in addtion to not changing his pants, had decided that he would wear ONLY his pants. "What do you want?" he asked him.

"I would like to have your crackerjacks!" Dudley exclaimed and rushed at Harry like a fat, semi-nude, smelly bull. Harry threw the crackerjacks sack at him. "God! Take them! You smell like arse!" he said.

Dudley was pleased by this. He took the sack and went to sit in front of the television while he indulged in the caramel-covered corn snacks.

Harry was happy that school started again the next day.

The next day...

Harry had made his way to Platform 9 and 3 quarters, at last. All of his friends were there. And so were Dudley's underpants. In the night, Dudley had snuck into Harry's bedroom and krazy-glued the pants to the back of Harry's head.

Finally, they got onto the train. Harry sat down next to his best friends Ron and Hermione. Ron immediately went into convulsions because of the repellant odour of the pants. He gagged and choked and fell into Hermione,
who was struggling not to inhale the scent. "Er, how was your summer Harry?" she gagged.

"Horrible."

"Oh."

Ron awoke, sitting up as far away from Harry as possible. He then vomited onto Harry's shoes.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I don't care."

"OK."

"Harry," Hermione asked, hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Why have you got a pair of soiled underpants stuck to the back of your head?"

"Yes, I was wondering that, as well," Ron told him.

"Dudley did it to me in the night," Harry told them, sadly.

"I can fix it!" Hermione proudly proclaimed, brandishing her wand and reciting a spell.

"KRAZY-GLUEIUS UN-DOIUS!"

The pants fell from the back of Harry's head into an aisle of the train where a first year with boils tripped on them and exploded into a thousand pieces.

"Wow!" said Ron and Harry and Hermione.

"Indeed," replied Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes.

The End.