"Hogwarts Express departing in ten minutes!" a conductor shouted through a cloud of smoke from the scarlet red engine behind him.

"You heard Mr. Plot Progression," Rick slurred, gesturing to the carriages. "Better hop on."

"Aw, Rick, are you sure you won't miss us or anything?" Morty asked.

"What, you think I'll m-m-miss you?" Rick replied, looking offended. "I've got enough problems for emotional longing."

Beth leaned down and patted Morty's head. "He'll miss you, Morty."

"No, I w*ough*n't,"

"C'mon, can't we at least pretend to be a normal family?" Harry asked, rubbing his forehead to fight off an oncoming migraine.

"Last I checked, Harry, we're on a magical hidden train platform surrounded by men and women in cloaks waving pointed sticks. Contextually, we're the fucking epitome of normal."

A young blonde boy pushed his way past Morty, followed by a small, wire-thin creature dragging a heavy chest. "Dobby!" the boy snarled, turning on his Italian leather heel. "If you don't pick up the pace, I'll have Father staple your ears to the ceiling," he paused, "again."

"Yes, Master Draco sir." the little creature replied miserably.

"What the f*uuu*ck is that?" Rick asked, pointing at the imp.

The boy scoffed. "You've never seen a house elf before? You must be a Mudblood."

"Out of curiosity, I'm going to ignore the obvious racial slur. So, he's a slave or something?" Harry asked.

"He's a servant."

"An unpaid servant."

"...Yes."

"One of those slaves could come in handy for lugging your luggage, Harry," Summer said, gesturing to the mound of trunks and crates that trailed the Sanchez family. "How did you even afford all that stuff?"

"Unexpected family inheritance," Harry replied, smiling smugly.

"Fortunately, we don't need to resort to forced servitude, Summer," Rick replied, pulling out a small box. "Not when we have genetically-manufactured servitude." He pressed the button three times.

In a puff of smoke, three blue-skinned, orange-haired creatures manifested themselves. "Hi, we're Mr. Meeseeks!" The lead one shouted in a voice that definitely does not get grating over a sustained period.

"Put Harry and Morty's shit on the train," Rick said, pointing to the luggage."

"Ooooooh, can do!"

"What in Merlin are those?" The Boy asked, looking unsettled.

"Miracles of science," Rick replied. "Who's the smug shit now, you albino privileged fuck?"

The albino snarled and departed in a huff, dragging the little house elf by the collar of his pillowcase. "Gee, that kid sure seemed unpleasant," Morty said.

"Yeah, hope he doesn't become the bane of my existence for the next seven years," Harry concurred.

"Alright, the foreshadowing is over, get on the fucking train," Rick interrupted, all but manhandling the two kids onto the train. "So long, sayonara, don't write, I won't reply!"

"Make friends, be normal, don't get killed!" Beth added, waving as the train chugged out of the station.

"Now what?" Summer asked.

Rick grabbed his granddaughter by the shoulder and drew her close. "Now it's Rick and Summer! Summer and Rick! Seven seasons of Rick and Summer! A hundred years of Rick and Summer! We'll have all the adventures Morty and I would've had, except they'll be unique, because you're a more unique, mature character, with previously unseen hidden depths and talents! And you're a girl, so we'll get those demographics!"

"Grandpa Rick, you're cutting off the circulation in my arm."

"Rick and Summer forever! A thousand-year Rick and Summer Reich…"

"We'd better find a compartment," Morty said, following Harry down the corridor.

"Do you have to voice all of our actions and motivations?" Harry replied.

"Uhhh, well…"

"Don't answer that; I don't want you to get a nosebleed."

Morty pulled open the next compartment door. "Hey, are these seats available?"

"Uh, yes," the young ginger replied, glancing up from a diseased-looking rat.

"Harry, do you want to pick this one?"

"Eh," Harry replied.

The two Americans settled in the seats across from the kid. The ginger held out his hand. "My name's Ronald Weasley."

"Oh, god," Harry muttered. His nephew elbowed him in the side. "Oh, right, act normal. Hi, I'm Harry, and this is Morty. Pleased to meet you, or some shit like that." He turned to Morty. "Can I read now?"

"Fine," Morty said. He turned to Ronald. "Sorry about Harry, he's… abrasive."

"What does 'abrasive' mean?" Ronald asked.

Harry groaned. "Jesus Christ, these next seven years are gonna suck."

"It means he's a bit of a piece of shit," Morty said, giving Ronald an apologetic smile.

"Oh, uhhh, ok. So, are you two Muggleborns? You sound American."

"Yep, my parents are Muggleborn. Harry's adopted dad (my grandpa Rick) is a scientist, but his real parents were wizards apparently."

"If you blow my cover I will fucking kill you," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Their names were Potter, have you heard of them?" Morty asked, simultaneously dodging a hurled copy of Advanced Necromancy.

"Blimey! You're Harry Potter!"

"God fucking dammit."

"Harry, you heard what mom said," Morty replied, smiling deviously. "Make friends."

At that moment, Morty felt something brush against his leg. Glancing down, he grimaced. "Gross, there's a fucking toad in here!" He picked up the creature, and before anyone could intervene, opened the window and hurled the creature out. "There. I don't even want to know when was the last time someone cleaned this carriage."

The compartment door slid open, and a bushy-haired girl stuck her head in. "Has anyone seen Neville's toad?"

The three boys stared at her, open-mouthed. Finally, Harry fell off the chair, laughing like a child (which may seem like an odd metaphor, as Harry is technically a child, but you know what I mean). After a moment, the other two boys joined in.

The girl huffed and slammed the door shut.

Wub-a-lub-a-dub-dub, my worthless peons! Hope you enjoy the new chapter! Guess you thought I was dead. Only inside! HAHA. Stay tuned, the next chapter will be coming soon! Or in like, six months, I dunno. Fuck you, I gotta live my own life, on my terms. Please fave and follow.