This story is based (slightly edited) on the teaser Harry Potter story by Michael Gerber: Barry Trotter and the Shameless Parody. I disclaim any of his characters.
I also disclaim any Harry Potter characters created by J. K. Rowling (and I also disclaim her…read on to see)
AU (alternate universe)
Harry Potter, along with his two best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, has another task to accomplish. However, Ron and Harry are still at school even though they are all twenty-two years old. Harry loves the fame and thus wants to stay at Hogwarts.
But is all the fame too much? Does Harry have to forget about Lord Voldemort and defeat the on most dangerous force to the wizarding community: Hollywood?
Just to say, anything in (( )) are notes. You can, if you want, read them, but the choice is up to yours. (Read them!) Once again, the choice is yours.
Chapter 1 – Trouble with Muggles
The Hogwarts School for witch-craft and wizardry was a very famous school among the wizarding community and Harry Potter was the most famous student in it. Everyone knew about his defeat over Lord Voldemort no less than four years old, and how he still is alive! (Even though no-one has mentioned that Lord Voldemort is alive too). Harry makes sure that Hogwarts is bustling with tons of new students each year. Accordingly Harry and the school have an unspoken agreement: Harry Potter could remain at Hogwarts as long as he wished, regarding his grades. Yes, Harry had just begun his eleventh year. This, much joy for Harry, made studying unnecessary so he spent his evenings enjoying the warm fire in the Gryffindor Common Room and even the odd spot of mischief.
That particular day, Harry lay on the coach in front of the fire in the Common Room, laughing quietly to himself, pitying those who had to study. In fact, he pitied anyone who had to work including the teachers.
Harry pulled out his wizard pipe from his school robe's pocket. These pipes weren't like the Muggles' pipes; they weren't addictive nor did they lead to galloping mouth rot. They also never needed to be filled. Harry clenched the little wonder between his teeth.
"Colibri."
The pipe suddenly lit itself and a spiral of smoke curled upwards. The bowl was made of fine magical meerschaum and started to mould itself into an exact replica of its owner.
"Cool!" Harry said, taking it out for a second to look at the forming portrait. He'd only bought the fun device last week in Diagon Alley. This was a perfect way to spend the evening instead of revising: finding new toys and what to do with them.
As he puffed, Harry was thinking of some fun he could have…
"Bloody-" an ash had spilled onto his lap. He brushed frantically, but it was too late; a small hole had been burned in his father's old Invisibility Cloak. "Damn! I'd better put this bugger out before it sets me on fire."
The pipe extinguished itself and Harry slipped it back into his pocket. He slipped his Cloak on and walked straight out of the Common Room to the grounds of Hogwarts. That was an interesting experience, Harry thought as he passed a few portraits.
Harry was the epitome of laziness apart from when it came to getting into trouble, making money, or even both at once; he delighted in seeing just how far he could push the old Bumblemo- Dumbledore and the rest. Dumbledore had gotten on Harry's nerves ever since he'd made Harry's life seem so terrifying. He and Ron much to Hermione's disgust, had made up the name 'Bumblemore' for him.
Near the front door, Nearly Headless Nick's close friend Almost Brainless Bill glided by, dragging his spinal cord behind him like a child's pull toy. Harry took care not to bump into the spirit and arouse suspicion – although last time he did, he uttered a soft "Moo!" and ever since Bill had believed that an invisible ghost cow walked the halls of the school.
"I shudder to think what awful circumstances led to her spirit's imprisonment in these dank halls. Murder, perhaps? Or a doomed love affair?" Bill had said at dinner a few days later, while Harry pulled a stomach muscle trying not to laugh.
Outside of the school now, he moved through the muddy, smelly crowd of youngsters with a quick step. A small bit of leftover smoke curled up Harry's nose and he started coughing. A small gobbet from Harry's spit landed on a small, thin, bespectacled girl who sat cross-legged on a patch of grass near the Lake reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Scone. ((As readers of the first book know, the Philosopher's Scone contained the Elixir of Life making anyone who eats it immortal. After Harry defeated Lord Voldemort and stopped the Dark Lord from being immortal, Dumbledore locked the pastry in his desk. He meant to get rid of it but a mouse got there first, ate it and became immortal. All the other mice made him the Messiah and ever since a new and dangerous cult had been growing in the walls of Hogwarts.)) Anyway, the girl felt her hair. If only she knew what was on her hair from Harry's mouth, she'd never stop washing her hair!
Life was great when you were famous. People don't push passed you in shops (they might even give you something for free!), people might be glad to meet you and, like Harry found out, you will always have at least fifty people who think you are superb. Harry loved going over those things in his mind as he lay down on the grass next to the Forbidden Forest. Nothing could get in Harry's way.
Sophie Fry, a fifth year and very unsuccessful witch, was trying to prepare an Itching Madness Spell when the morning owls arrived the next day at breakfast. Everyone hastily covered the glasses and plates to stop the shower of feathers and flees and that which might accompany any delivery delivered by an animal. Owls were a disgusting and filthy way of delivering mail.
Harry received a letter from the Headmaster and showed it to everyone around him on the Gryffindor table.
"Maybe it's good news. Maybe old Snape's got cancer of the wand." Said Ishmael Cohen, a third year who will not re-appear, but who was pushed in so not everybody was a main character or just a part in the story mentioned twice.
"Not likely – it's a howler." Harry opened it.
"See me immediately!" It boomed at Harry. "And bring that good-for-nothing Ron with you!"
Ronald Weasley, Harry's boon companion, was indeed good-for-nothing. Or very little at least. He had unfortunately suffered a horrible accident in Quidditch during their sixth year as goal-keeper: a Beater and whiffed a Bludger towards Ron hitting him in the head, causing it to lodge in at great speed. Every single attempt to remove the ball just caused it to sink further until it finally came out the other side of Ron's head giving him a peephole. (When the wind hit it just right, it whistled). The Nurse fitted him with a new brain, using the barely-adequate faculties of a hastily-euthanized golden retriever. Ron was thus left with the capacities of a dim, good-mannered seven year old and some definite canine tendencies.
"Come on," Harry said to Ron distracting Ron from the urge to lick himself. "Fuzzface wants to see us. Have you been rolling in raccoon poop again?"
Ron loved to chase cars and today he smelt particularly worse. He loyal, however.