Revamped Version : Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Summary: It seems that the first volume of the Harry Potter series is back. But wait a minute, why is it in the comedy section? That's right, it's revamped! With a new cover (flashy orange chosen by Ron Weasley) and hilarious conversations, this revamped version rivals even the original. NOTE: All death due to choking, snorting, laughing, etc is not our fault and therefore cannot be claimed as the cause of said death.

Disclaimer: Everything; the plot, the characters, the places; belong to J.K. Rowling and a small tad is owned by Warner Bros Inc (I think). All I know is that nothing belongs to me.

AN: After reading a hilarious response to the Severitus Challenge (Harry Potter The Musical written by Solo Shodan) I decided to take a break from writing Love At All Cost (yes, I am working on a new fic, I'll publish it soon) and rewrite JK Rowling's first novel into a hilarious comedy. Enjoy!

Dedicated to Leila, because she encouraged me to give this story another go (even though I got no reviews...)

Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lived

Vernon and Petunia Dursley always said they were normal. Their son too. In fact, their neighbors had a tally going on for how many times they said 'normal'. They were now up to 254 times. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me first explain who they were. I'll even let you in on a little secret.

Vernon Dursley could be described in one word: Meatball. He was fat, with a flush to his face that never went away. He always wore suits to make up for his rather short stub of a neck and had a thin moustache that he stroked often when he thought. But most people believed that he was just looking at the sky because meatballs just don't have brains, let alone think.

Petunia Dursley lived the phrase 'Opposites attract' to a tee. She was small and bony. She often stuck her nose where it didn't belong and had the nasty habit of spying on others. She had been overjoyed when the people on 6 Privet Drive had moved, because they never opened their curtains. Little did she know that her old neighbors had warned the new ones about her habit (Petunia called it a skill) and so they did it as well.

And made from this unsavory union was their son, Dudley Dursley. Now, to be honest, I have nothing against babies, as long as their diapers are dry. But this baby was so obviously pampered that it shocked most people. He threw a tantrum when he ate, when he bathed, hell, even when he slept. Most mornings Vernon had to bravely confront him and Petunia to kiss them goodbye while Dudley attacked him with flying spoonfuls of food. Vernon often didn't notice, but his coworkers snickered every time Vernon's tie was covered in one or other edible substance.

And now on to their dirty little secret (or so they thought it was disgraceful). Petunia Vernon had been an Evans before she married. She even had a sister. And the aforementioned was her cause for shame. It seemed she had gone to study magic. Not that magic that you see on TV with their little voodoo dolls and dances, real live magic that hummed in anticipation to be used. You see, she had been offered a place at a prestigious boarding school of witchcraft and wizardry called Hogwarts. Her parents had been thrilled, but can you imagine if you were drinking a cup of tea and it suddenly turned into a rat by your sister? And then when you went to complain to your parents, they only clapped in their hands and commended your sister for a job well done? No wonder she turned out to be an ugly stiff little bint.

-+-

One day, Vernon was once again bemoaning his reflection in the mirror (you'll notice that a lot of ugly people do this) when he noticed a pair of owls fly by. But he only grunted and tried to pep himself up (I told you he was partially stupid).

"Come on old boy, you still look snazzy! Remember how old Figgy looked at you yesterday?"

"That's just because you had a wet place on your pants. And they just incidentally had to be where… Well, it looked like you had peed in your pants."

"Come come, Figgy is a mother. She understood that Dudley's piss had run down his leg to my lap."

"You're deluding yourself."

Of course the real conversation between himself hadn't been as colorful or intelligent, but I'm just so nice that I won't degrade him further.

When he was done talking to himself and a few other friends (imaginary, but don't be too hard on him. You can't blame him that he's fat and disgusting…Oh wait a minute, you can!) he went down stairs to wage the daily war between him and Dudley.

Let's watch it in slow motion. Vernon ducked as a bowl flew past him. Dudley reached out to take another bottle and Vernon, seeing his chance, cautiously crept forward. Petunia plastered herself to a wall and watched with horror (she never seemed to get used to the morning battles) as her clean sterilized kitchen was being ruined.

"Tttiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeee fffffffffffoooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr tttttttttttttthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeee bbbbbbbbbbbbbbiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggggggg gggggggggggggggguuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnsssssssssssssss!" Vernon said (translation slow motion to English: Time for the big guns!) and whipped out of his belt a small tranq gun. He pulled the trigger and a small projectile flew from the tip and hit Dudley squarely in the arm. But unfortunately, Dudley had gotten one last throw and the carrot mush hit Vernon's shirt with a sickening splat.

Dudley lay limp and Vernon sauntered over to him, hands raised in the air in victory, before he gently kissed his son. Petunia was now handling the Championship Tie and honor fully gave it to Vernon.

"Here is to our champion, Vernon Dursley. May you wear it with pride to hide your stained shirt."

Vernon bowed and reverently took the tie and put it on. After a little fumbling he got it on and looked expectantly at Petunia.

"What?" she asked at his expectant face but softened when Vernon started blubbering.

"But I did something… Don't I get applause? I want applause! Give me applause!"

Aunt petunia clapped (it actually was more like slapping or patting her hands. She loved her husband, but sometimes he worked on her nerves) shortly before kissing him on the cheek and shooing him to the door. "Drive carefully, Vernon! I'll see you later!" She waved before shutting the door.

-+-

When Dursley was driving out of Privet Drive he noticed a cat reading a map. That was the first sign that something was wrong. But when he blinked and looked again the map was gone. He concluded that it had been a trick of his mind (just like when he had eaten a mouse dropping deluding himself to think it was a raisin) and looked at the cat. The cat looked back with a stare and slowly raised one of his eyebrows, or that's what it looked like. Suddenly, the road seemed very interesting to watch but he just couldn't stop himself to sneak one last peek at the strange cat. It was now taking glasses from seemingly nowhere and reading the sign 'Privet Drive'. The street now looked VERY interesting. He only stopped staring at the street once he had passed two streetlights and an intersection.

But the strangeness didn't end there. When he got to Grunnings, he couldn't help but see strange folk roaming around in small tight clusters. They were all wearing cloaks with violent colors. He sighed and shook his head. How dare those homos dress up in public? Was this the "Coming out of the closet" day? But when Vernon quickly checked his agenda, there was no sign of any holiday. When he stepped out of the car, he bumped into a short caped man. He gruffly said sorry (he thought that homo's all had mafias) but was flabbergasted when he was suddenly hugged. He caught the disease! While the man squeaked away (not like any one could understand what he said) he felt the urging notion to go and wash himself. Two minutes later, Squeaker (as Vernon called him in his head) was gone and he walked to his job, looking all the while at all the caped men that were talking in clusters.

Vernon puzzled a bit more about this, but thanks to his short attention span, he was once again thinking about a large order from Grunnings, where he worked. If his desk was facing the window, he would have noticed the flecked window but he was boring and so had an owl-dropping free day.

He had forgotten all about the gay guys until break. As usual, he had to live up to his 'Meatball' title and went down to the bakery to get himself a donut. As he passed by another cluster of caped weirdo's, he just happened to hear some of their conversation.

"The Potters, that's right. That's what I heard-"

"-yes, their son Harry-"

Vernon's eyes bulged and he unknowingly crushed his donut with his twitching hand. He quickly raced back to his office (looking al the way constipated) and had almost dialed his home number when he stopped and put the horn back down. There was no use in worrying Petunia. She would only get angry at hearing her sister's name and he wanted to keep his tie thank you very much. He stroked his tie fondly as he thought. No, there was no use of it. I mean, Potter was a common name and he wasn't even too sure if their son's name WAS Harry. It was probably Harold, or Hornig. Still, he felt queasier than usual when he returned home and saw those strange folks again.

When he got out of the car, the first thing he saw was that cat again. He made shooing noises but the cat just stared at him if he had gone crazy. That made him stop and go inside.

After dinner had been served, they put Dudley to sleep (tranq guns were handy things those days) and watched the 11 o'clock news. Reports of owls and shooting stars made him ask Petunia about the Potters. As expected, she blew up in indignation and icily answered his questions. His hypothesis was confirmed. Their son was named Harry. He almost considered telling Petunia what he had overheard but then thought about his tie (he stroked it comfortingly) and changed his mind. The last thought that crossed his mind before falling asleep was that it wouldn't affect them in any case.

-+-

AN: All right, I can't do too much comedy right now because you can't change much here. I think the next part will be funnier. Of course I can't wait until the dialogue between students take place because then I can make them all witty. You'll just have to bear with me. And the things I said about homos and such is not how I think about them, I was thinking how stiff upper lip Vernon Dursley would think. Please don't hate me for that. 5th reviewer can choose an item that I have to work into the story!

-+-

Even when all the lights had gone off in the residence of 4 Privet Drive the strange cat didn't move. It watched transfixed at the end of Privet Drive, as if hypnotized. And all of a sudden, a man appeared. He certainly did not look normal here in Privet Drive. With his long white beard, blue robes and cowboy boots he certainly didn't look at ease in Privet Drive. Not to mention the leather pants under those innocent twinkling robes. He quickly took a silver clicker (with a naked lady engraved in it) and clicked it so that the light from the lampposts went to the clicker. Then he walked towards the cat.

"Ahh Minerva… Were you here all day?" the old man seemed to be crazy to be talking to a cat, but sure enough, when you looked where the cat was, you only saw a woman in her 70s.

"Really, Albus! How did you know it was me?"

"I've never seen two cats look so stiff. Besides, how did you multiply yourself?" He trailed off and mumbled something under his breath. His slurred speech and that distinct sway in his steps were now more visible. "Have you been to any parties? I saw 5 parties on my way here…"

"And you obviously joined them, didn't you?" Minerva sniffed. She shouldn't have, for her nose was full of the scent of liquor. How many brandies did you have, Albus?"

"Are you hinting that I'm drunk?" Albus took some more swaying steps in her direction. But you see, the problem with such a long beard is that you could trip on it if you didn't pay attention. He made to tap her nose but unfortunately he made to the non-existent twin of Minerva that only he could see in his condition. When he tried to tap the air, he tripped over his beard and sprawled over the ground.

Minerva sighed and sat on Albus, who giggled. She was never going to get her questions answered if he was delusional. Thank god she knew Albus so well. She conjured up a potions vial out of nowhere and force-fed him.

When a dull roar filled the night Albus was sober enough to stand and eat a lemon drop when a motorcycle promptly fell out of the sky. Minerva went white with shock while Albus smiled and greeted the rider of the motorcycle. The rider was taller than Albus and twice as wide. He actually looked quite funny on a motorcycle that was two times smaller than him, but no one was laughing.

"Aaah Hagrid, have you got him?" Albus asked once he had air kissed him three times.

Hagrid nodded and gave Albus the white bundle between his arms. A small face poked out between the blankets. It had chubby cheeks that all babies had and he was currently asleep. But the most interesting was that he had a-

"A scar? So it's true? Harry Potter really did vanquish Voldemort?" Minerva asked.

Albus nodded gravely but quickly stopped as his headache strengthened.

"But why is he here? Why did you ask me to be here?"

"These are Harry's only living relatives," Albus said sadly as he looked at 4 Privet Drive.

"So Lilly and James… Oh god Albus, how can you think to put him here? I've seen what they're like and they're nothing like us. And their son, I saw him kicking and screaming for sweets. Harry Potter live here?" Minerva then looked at Albus who looked quite guilty and had his hand behind his back. "What's that Albus?" she asked sharply. Albus flinched at her tone and showed her his hand. In it was a letter.

Minerva exploded, "You think you can explain all of this in a LETTER? Are the tabloids finally right in telling that you've gone off your rocker? These people will never understand him! JAMAIS! There will be books written about him, and he'll grow up in ignorance?"

"The fame will get to his head. Can't you see how much better it is to grow up away from that?"

Minerva opened her mouth, visibly gulped, and then nodded.

"Hagrid, will you say goodbye to Harry?"

"Oh I'm sorry, while you were having your own private dialogue I was just painting a masterpiece. Say goodbye to Harry? Okay."

He scratchily kissed Harry and howled.

"Hagrid, it's not the full moon, and you aren't Remus Lupin," Albus deadpanned.

"Sorry, just seeing how good you were in charades" Hagrid said before turning away and driving off into the air with his motorcycle.

Meanwhile, Albus had put the small bundle on the front steps with the letter and backed away respectfully. "I'll see you in the 'Green Bane' right Minerva?" he asked.

"See you there" and slinked away, the night showing a cat.

Albus chuckled and returned the lights to the lampposts. Then with a swish and a turn of his cloak, he was gone.

-+-

All over the country people were raising their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter, the boy who lived!"

In the wee hours of the morning people could be seen staggering around, tipsy and drunk. Some sang, some hung their heads, and others just watched. One pair stood out in particular. One had a beard that was thrown over his shoulder with a net fish shirt and leather pants. It would have been tasteful if he hadn't been so old. The other had a dress on made entirely of lemon drops. They were supporting each other and singing loudly as they staggered around.

-+-

AN: Originally this had been two different parts, as you can see. But this was so short I decided to combine. Okay, I'm going to play a game that I actually stole from someone else. All the reviewers have to mention an item that they want me mention in the next chapter. The fifth reviewer's item is the one I use in the story. (I had originally chosen for 10th reviewer but I doubt it'll get so far for the first chapter)