Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Except bacon. I happen to be the very wealthy owner of thirty-seven pork factories in south-east Canada. Yes...

Hope you enjoy it! Chapter nine and ten are very, very long, as I promised. I wrote them on my ski trip and back at my homely abode. We are so dedicated to you...but not as dedicated as Broadwaybrunett and "Somebody"! Thank you!

Please read and review!

CHAPTER 7: damn you, obese color blind bacon-hungry flashbacks!

"So, what was the summer like, my friend?" said Ron casually, though secretly trying to ebb towards the hint of a plot. Oh! Espionage!

Harry sat, leaning back in his chair and making nonchalant movements with his hands, his Zen perfectly balanced.

"Let me tell you in a series of flashbacks….."

FLASHBACK

Harry was sitting on his bed, bawling his bloody eyes out over some dead dude. The dead dude's name was Sirius. The situation was serious(pun intended). The non-Ringo boy got up and started smashing things. He threw his trunk in frustration. But, alors! His period of hormonal rage was interrupted by a grossly obese man, arteries so clogged the members of the American Heart Asssoctiation clutched each other in distress- except they didn't because they didn't care about the bloody Brits and probably didn't even give a further hoot as to whether or not this particular obese man died of a massive heart attack anyway-little did they know, there were three possessed American girls, loyal only to the queen and Harry Potter(they thought Mr. Prez was an ugly air-head). In any case, the man rammed open the door.

"We want bacon!"

"Can't you see I'm crying over the death of my godfather?" sobbed Harry between sobs.

"No. I'm color-blind."

"Doesn't mean you can't see my anguish."

"Uuuuuuuh…." Said Mr. Dursley, realizing that statement to be true. He thought hard. Why else could he not see that kid's anguish. Why else…why else why else why else why elsebaconbaconbaconbaconbacon…um…oh yes…

"And stupid." He said gleefully.

Harry felt pity on this man for the first time in his life. Being color-blind and stupid? He shook his head sadly. Drawing a Punnet Square in his mind, he pondered on whether little Dudley would get the color-blind gene. Or the stupidity one. But since neither show up as phenotypes-he didn't know. Or was it genotypes? Harry had another brief but profound vision. It was…a…a science teacher…and he was…American…and whose name was Flo- Flora- something about flour-cabbage? Oh well. Very sad, that.

And then his yelling switch turned on.

"Get your own bacon, you OBESE, donkey-hole!"

"Haha. You be bad at swearing," said Mr. Dursley, searching his brain for another insult to hurl at the Harry. Yes, the Harry. His eyes wandered on about the room, until they landed on Harry's outfit.

"Your shirt's orange and your pant's are yellow!"

Harry and five very queer men who happened to be standing in the doorway all gasped! Never! There couldn't possibly be such bad fashion by a main character of a best-selling sentilogy.

Harry looked down to his clearly green shirt and clearly blue jeans, sighing, relieved.

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are not."

"Are too!"

"Are too."

"Are not!"

"HA! Told you!" and with a look of triumph, the boy-who-did-not-wear-orange-and-yellow-apparel left the room, preparing to serve the Dursley's every whim.

END FLASHBACK

"Well, Harry, that was informative," stated Herm, raising an eyebrow.

"Ya…some real insight into your life, there, mate."