When we last left the scene, Harry had just discovered that he is a douche! Where will this story unfold?
Harry: *takes a second glance at cake* Wait a second. This cake says "Happy Birthdae Harry" God you fail at spelling.
Hagrid: Well waddya expect? I mean, normal wizards don't do any schooling before they are of 10 years of age, so we can't exactly be perfect at the basics now can we?
Harry: Anywaaay, you were saying that I'm a douche?
Hagrid: Oh yes. I mean, didn't you ever make anything...happen? Anything you couldn't explain when you were angry or scared? Anything...douchey?
Harry: Well...I did lock my cousin in a snake enclosure, AND I think I killed my parents...so yeah, I've been pretty douchey in the past.
Hagrid hands Harry a letter, made from the last tree to exist in the Amazon.
Harry: *reading aloud because is too dumb to read in his head* "Dear Miss Potter, You have been accepted a Hogwarts school of Douchecraft and Wizardry." Wait, Hogwarts? That name sounds really gross; I mean, it's a school named after a wild pig with a skin condition...
Vernon: He shall not be going! We swore we'd put an end to all this rubbish!
Harry: So you knew about the magical world even though you have no direct relation to it? Why haven't the supposed Ministry forced you to keep your mouths shut, or exterminated you for knowing a very hidden secret?
Vernon: Because...err...umm...well I don't know. Ask her!
JK Rowling: *swims in bottomless pit filled with her earnings*
Harry: But if I go, you won't see me for the next year or so.
Vernon: Harry, get your bag ready.
Harry: But you never told me about this...
Petunia: Why the hell would we? I am so jealous of my perfect sister Lily, that even when she died I felt no guilt in telling her child what happened to her and what they all are. Not my fault she got blown up and we got stuck with you.
Author: Sorry to interrupt, but Petunia, was your mother by any chance a naturalistic hippy?
Petunia: Yes...
Author: So that explains why both her daughters were named after flowers...CARRY ON.
Harry: BLOWN UP? You said my parents died in a car crash!
Petunia: Well, a car can explode...so it could have crashed then exploded; thus blowing them up.
Harry: Oh Snap! Didn't see that one.
Hagrid: *vent about Lily and James not being killed in a car crash*
Everyone: *ignore*
Hagrid: When Harry goes to Hogwarts, he will be under the best headmaster Hogwarts has seen; Albus Dumbledore!
Harry: And by under; you mean?
Hagrid: You'll be his bitch, who goes around doing everything he can't be bothered doing, like killing Voldermort and framing teachers.
Harry: And by Headmaster you mean he's a master of head?
Hagrid: And how!
Harry: But I don't want some crack addict teaching me how to pull a rabbit out of a hat.
Hagrid: Never...insult...albus...dumbledore...
Harry: You know, pointing that pink umbrella at me really isn't that threatening.
Hagrid: Wanna bet? *shoots jet at Dudley, who grows a pigs tail; the furry population cries in awe again*
Whilst Petunia and Vernon scream about something that is easily removed via surgery; Hagrid warns Harry not to tell anyone that he used magic, as he isn't allowed to.
Harry: Wait, so the Ministry can track when I use a spell underage, but not someone who had theirs broken in half for not obeying the 'law'? And also, couldn't you just buy a new wand? Also, later on, why do I get punished for using a spell when I've already used one just a few scenes ago without any warning?
Hagrid: Hey don't look at me! *gestures to JK Rowling now purchasing Saturn*
Harry: So this is where you kidnap me? 'Cause I really do not want to go. I'm quite happy right here.
Hagrid: TOO BAD! YOU'RE GETTING KIDNAPPED AGAINST YOUR WILL AND THAT IS THAT!
Harry: Fuck you.
Hagrid: And guess what! Instead of something convenient for a second time in less than 20 minutes into the movie, we get to travel back by a speedboat during this giant storm! And even better, let's leave without you taking any possessions, surely you don't need them!
NEXT SCENE: Harry and Hagrid now find themselves in London, and no one gives a second glance to Hagrid and his giantness.
Harry: God I'm hungry, not to mention tired.
Hagrid: Why's that?
Harry: We haven't freaking had a rest break since you stole me from my happy seaside cottage.
Hagrid: *singing* OH THERES NO PLACE LIKE LONDON!!! :D
Harry: No...references...please.
Hagrid: Hmph! Fine. Wait, what do you need again? You should read out loud off your letter in public with your obnoxious voice so that I can know where we need to go because there isn't only one place in the entire world to do wizard related shopping.
Harry: Kay. According to the letter, the only two things I need to bring are a standard size 2 pewter cauldron and if I wish, an owl, a cat, or a toad. With that last part, all the pets seem kind of pointless apart from owls...Why bother with a cat or a toad? And also, how do we feed them at the school if there isn't any specific equivalent to the aviary in this magical land of gumdrops and rainbows? Wait a second, can we find this all in London?
Hagrid: Oh sure, all your standard stores like your Kmart and your Target and your Wallmart are full of wizarding goods! Because that isn't obvious at all!
Harry: So where exactly are we going to go to?
Hagrid: Follow me into this totally non-descript brothe- I mean bar.
Harry: Wait, why would anyone go to a place called the 'Leaky Cauldron'. Not only does it sound repulsive; I mean, it's like calling a restaurant the 'Dirty Saucepan' or something.
Hagrid: Shut up and get inside.
Harry and Hagrid enter the Leaky Cauldron to find themselves in a really cheap and dodgy looking bar.
The barkeep (let's call him Smitty) asks Hagrid if he wants his usual, not fussed that an 11 year old is in his bar, exposed to the dangers of underage drinking and whoring.
Hagrid: No thanks Smitty, I'm on official Hogwarts Business *creepy smile*
Smitty: *continues wiping glasses* Do you really think I give a shit about your lame job?
Hagrid: Oh but I'm buying *emphasis* Harry *end emphasis* his school supplies.
Smitty: Oh yeah, you're that Potter kid aren't you...
Hagrid: HE'S FAMOUS! *awkward grin*
Smitty: Try someone else.
Hagrid: OI NUPS! HARRY POTTERS HERE!
Strange Crazy Lady: Welcome back Mr Potter, welcome back.
Harry: Err...I've never been here, you've never met me, you knew that I'm alive so that remark is really really pointless.
Doris: Doris Crockford, Mr Potter. I can't believe I'm meeting you.
Harry: Well you just have, so please go away. I need to get ready for school! ;[
Quirrell: H-H-Harry P-P-Potter. Can't de-describe what a pleasure it is to meet you.
Harry: *shields face from heavy saliva shower* You just shook my hand. How is that possible if later you touch me and it causes you to crumble away in the physics that Rowling loves to rape.
Hagrid: shut uuuuup. Don't ruin the plot.
Harry: Oh please, anyone who is reading this would have read or seen the movie beforehand. This hardly constitutes as a proper retelling of the story. The author's beaten it to death in the first few sentences.
Hagrid: Anyway, he's going to teach you defence against the dark arts at school.
Harry: Dark arts? Like painting using only shades of blacks, greys and browns?
Hagrid: Effectively. We should get going to the back of this dump.
Harry: Oh god, you're one of those paedophiles aren't you. PLEASE BE GENTLE D: *blows rape whistle*
Hagrid: *pulls out umbrella*
Harry: AAAAAH! PLEASE NOT THE UMBRELLA! IT'LL GIVE ME SPLINTERS!
Hagrid: *taps bricks on wall*
Harry: What the hell are you doing?
Hagrid: *continues tapping*
Harry: Is that, is that Hot Cross Buns?
Hagrid: No, it's the secret tapping code to get into Diagon Alley.
Harry: Well it sounds an awful like that awful tune.
Hagrid: I flunked music class as a youngun, kay?
Harry: HOLY GUTTERSHITE! THOSE BRICKS ARE MOVING!
Hagrid: Yep.
Harry: Wait a second. How the hell can they move if the whole wall is full? Where do they move to? They can't just move to the side as there isn't any room there. IT'S FUCKING FULL OF BRICKS!
Harry notices a wanted sign on the wall near him.
Harry: Wanted. JK Rowling for the brutal murder of Mr P Hysics. Dead or Alive.
Hagrid: Welcome Harry, To Horizont Alley.
Harry: ???
Hagrid: Oh, did I say Horizont Alley? I meant Diagon Alley. I get my directions mixed up.
Harry: Never mind that...HOW THE HELL IS THERE A FREAKING SHOPPING CENTRE BEHIND A BRICK WALL WHICH IS ATTACHED TO SOME KIND OF STORE OR PUB OR SOME SHIT?
Hagrid: *waving arms* That's just the power of Maaaaaagic! Let's go buy your shit that you need.
Harry: And just leave the wall we came out of open?
Hagrid: Oh don't worry. It's not like anyone actually would randomly stumble upon it, you know. Nobody thinks of throwing out their garbage into the giant bins out here, or to get a raise through sexual favours out in that dank hole.
Harry: Is everyone supposed to look so douchy?
Hagrid: Well now. That's wizard clothes! Take a good look because after this movie you're never gonna see anyone in the magical world wearing it! Adidas and Nike are so more fashionable than this stereotypical attire.
Harry: My god it's crowded here. I'm surprised it hasn't been victims of bombings from those terrori- I mean, Death Eaters.
Hagrid: It's crowded because this is the only place to buy anything magical related in the WHOLE WORLD!!!
Harry: Let me get this straight. The main shopping centre is in England. The biggest bank is in England. The best school with the most powerful wizard as headmaster is in England. The whole magical government is in England. The most evil wizard of all is in England. This seems a bit messed up...
Hagrid: You know what's weirder?
Harry: The fact that your father had sex with a giant?
Hagrid: I'm not going to tell you now...*sad face*
Hagrid: OH LOOK! There's where you buy your quills and ink.
Harry: There are a few things absolutely messed up with that. First, why do we use quills and ink instead of pens? Just because we're magical it doesn't mean we have to live in t he 16th century. Second of all, why the hell is there a store devoted to selling quills and ink? How depressing would whoever owns that shop's life be?
Owner of Quill Shop: It's terrible. I've tried swallowing the ink to end it all, but I'm too pathetic to die *cries*
Hagrid: Over there are your bits and bobs for doing wizardry.
Harry: Wow, you're awfully specific aren't you?
Kid 1: It's a world class racing broom!
Kid 2: WOW! Look at it! The new Nimbus 2000!
Kid 3: We already knew all that! Why the hell are you bothering to say it again if WE ALREADY FREAKING KNEW IT?
Kid 4: it's the fastest model yet!
Kid 3: WE KNOW!
Harry: But Hagrid, how am I to pay for all this. I haven't any money.
Hagrid: And you said I had bad grammar. Anyway, there's your money Harry! In Gringotts Wizard Bank!
Harry: JESUS CHRIST! That building is really goddamn lopsided! How has it not fallen over yet?
TV Announcer: And in other news, JK Rowling has continued her murder spree by killing Mr P Hysics two children.
Hagrid: There ain't no safer place! Not one. Oh wait, maybe Hogwarts!
Harry: Not really seeing that Voldermort manages to get into the school without anyone knowing by attaching himself to the back of someone's head.
Harry and Hagrid walk into Gringotts.
Harry: Er, Hagrid. What exactly are these things?
Hagrid: Harry, short humans are not things, they are still people; even if only half a person. You see, only people who are under 4ft height are allowed to work here. And you need to have no care in how your nails look.
Harry: That's awfully discriminatory.
Hagrid: Wouldn't you trust your money with these goblins?
Harry: No...
Hagrid: Mr Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal.
Goblin: Well why the hell can't he speak for himself?
Hagrid: He's 11.
Goblin: Oh I see. Does Mr Potter have his key?
Harry: This is a really dodgy system for a bank you know. You don't need any proof of identity, just an old iron key. Realistically, I could go into someone's house, take they're key and waltz in here asking for all the cash they have.
Hagrid: Oh and there's something else. Professor Dumbledore gave me this.
Goblin: Why not call him Albus Dumbledore? You're not in school.
Harry notes that the letter that Hagrid gives the goblin has a stamp saying 'Top Secret' on it.
Harry: YAY! We're in James Bond movie now!
Hagrid: It's about you know what, in you know which vault.
Goblin: No...I deal with many people every day, and I have no clue what you're talking about.
Harry: Can we get on with it?
And so they climb aboard what can barely be described as a cart to arrive at the vault of Harry Potter.
Goblin: *speaking out of nose* Vault 687.
Harry: You'd of thought that I'd have a longer vault number with the amount of people using this system of security over all these years.
Goblin: Lamp, please. Even though I don't use or need it.
Goblin: Key, please.
Hagrid: Oh for crying out loud, make up your mind.
The goblin opens the vault.
Harry: HOLY CRAP! I'M RICH! How the hell are my parents that wealthy?
Hagrid: 'cause you know, being an Auror and nothing else pays that well...
Harry: Really?
Hagrid: Nope.
Goblin: Oh...err...bit of a misunderstanding. This isn't your vault, this is JK Rowlings. Notice how it keeps doubling in size every few seconds.
Harry: She won't notice if it take a bit for my pewter cauldron and maybe a pet...Wait a minute. How the hell would someone get all this cash down here in the first place? Giant sacks with dollar signs on the sides? Seems really damn inconvenient and risky to carry all your wealth with you from your house right down to the bank all in coin form.
Goblin: Let's move onto Vault 713.
Harry: What's in there?
Hagrid: I can't tell you. It's Hogwarts business. Very secret.
Harry: Is it a stone that can either be used to turn things into gold or to make the Elixir of Life?
Hagrid: ...no...Anywho, here I go. Won't take a second. Just need to stuff the most valuable thing in the world in my trench coat roughly. Kind of like when I was delivering you.
Harry: Why does Dumbledore have so much trust in you? First me, then this...
Hagrid: Groundskeepers make excellent deliverymen for Dumbledore.
Harry: *snicker*
Hagrid: Huh?
Harry: I just realised something.
Hagrid: And that would be?
Harry: You're Dumbledore's bitch.
Hagrid: Waddya mean?
Harry: Well, you are doing anything and everything for him, no questions asked, no complaints.
Hagrid: Moving on, we've got shopping to do!
Harry: YAYA! SHOPPING SPREE! *takes pocketfuls of gold*
Hagrid: It isn't called gold. We have Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.
MEANWHILE AT THE MAGIC SHOP:
Man: So how much for these eyes of newt?
Shopkeeper: 5 knuts each.
Man: I have 3 cashews and 2 walnuts.
Shopkeeper: That'll do.
BACK TO HARRY:
Harry: I still need a wand.
Hagrid: Waddya mean Harry? You're all man down there right?
Harry: That is really inappropriate for an 11 year old...also, I mean the one which I can shoot jets of white light which turn into a deer.
Hagrid: So the one in your pants or the one in your hand?
Harry: The one in my hand.
Hagrid: Wait...the one in your pants can be in your hand...
Harry: OH SHUT UP! *punches Hagrid in face*'
Hagrid: Righteo. You'll want Ollivander's. No place better. You go ahead while I go and buy a dragon egg from non-descript people in dark coats.
Harry: Kay.
Harry walks inside.
Harry: Hello? Hmmm...there was no reply for 2 WHOLE seconds so I better call out again.
Harry: HELLO?
A scary old child molester looking fellow slides into view on a ladder.
Harry: How the hell did you do that?
Ollivander: Do what?
Harry: Slide on your ladder without pushing yourself with your foot.
Ollivander: I used my hands.
Harry: Both?
Ollivander: Oh yes.
Harry: Wouldn't you lose balance and fall off?
Ollivander: Look. Do you want to buy a wand or not? If no, then hurry along; I have hard wood to polish.
Harry: Yes I want a damn wand.
Ollivander: I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr Potter.
Harry: Call me Harry. I'm not an old fart like you.
Ollivander: Alright, Harry. It seems like only yesterday that your mother and father were buying their first wands.
Harry: First wands? Aren't they supposed to be a permanent one-off thing? Unless of course you're an idiotic redhead who can't drive a flying car past a tree...
Ollivander pulls out a wand box.
Harry: How do you know which one to take out? I mean, it has no labels or anything as a guide. And with the amount of wands here, there is realistically no way that you could know which wand is which just by glancing at a dusty box.
Ollivander: That's the beauty of it. I don't know. I just keep on guessing until I hit the right one. I think my record is three and a half days with a young Miss Pettingshire...
Harry: Can I have my wand now?
Ollivander: Oh yes, certainly.
Harry just holds the wand awkwardly, looking like a tool.
Ollivander: WELL GIVE IT A WAVE!
This startles Harry so much that he flicks it upwards causing half of the stock to come crashing down.
Ollivander: Oh hell! I just spent the past 3 hours fixing that up. Put it down and try another one.
Ollivander randomly takes out another box.
Harry gives it a wave, causing a vase to explode.
Harry: Jesus Christ! Why do some spells just work by flick my wand? It seems really goddamn impractical if I'm trying to cast something else or taking it out of my soon to be worn Slazenger track pants.
Ollivander: Let me take out the only wand who's location I know precisely....Hmmm...I wonder...
Harry snatches the wand from his hand.
Harry: Who opened that window above me? It's making me seem godlike...OLLIVANDER! Turn off that fan! You're making my hair go into my face.
Ollivander: Sorry. This moment seemed to need that extra oomph!
Harry: Well this wand can't be right, it didn't destroy anything when I touched it. Unless my wand's only purpose is to create skylights and create wind around me wherever I may go.
Ollivander: Curious. Very curious.
Harry: Sorry, but what's curious? The fact that no more repairs need to be made at your shop?
Ollivander: I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter.
Harry: That isn't curious...that's just a tad creepy.
Ollivander: It just so happens, that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand, gave another feather.
Harry: My wand? I haven't bought it. I don't even think I want it now. Oh and, who cares if the Phoenix gave another feather? Call it a feather whore and be done with it.
Ollivander: No you see, it gave just one.
Harry: So it's a picky whore then.
Ollivander: It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar.
Harry: Oh this? That isn't a scar. Just some of my old douchy friends magic markered me while I was asleep. Except it won't come off now.
Ollivander: Come on. Say your line!
Harry: Oh do I have to? *droning* And who owned that wand?
Ollivander: We do not speak his name.
Harry: Why not? It's not like he'll hunt you down and kill you for daring to utter his name.
Ollivander: The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter.
Harry: Then why do you still have a job if it's up to the wand to choose whoever they want, not you?
Ollivander: I take them out of the boxes, the rest is up to them. It isn't always clear why the wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter.
Harry: Is it really necessary to start referring to me as Mr Potter even though I've already introduced myself AND it's obvious that you're speaking to me?
Ollivander: It is Mr Potter. Something that is clear to me is that we can expect great things from you.
Harry: Way to give away what'll happen in the first 7 years of my life.
Ollivander: It needed to be done. Otherwise you'd wind up like Neville. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things.
Author: Just as a disclaimer; this is the last time I shall be referring to Voldermort as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as it is a bitch to type out what with all the hyphens. He shall now be known as HWMNBN if the need should arise.
Ollivander: Terrible things, but great.
Harry: And you expect an 11 year old to understand how something can be terrible but great? At this age, great is just a step down from awesome which effectively to me means radical which to me means beyond good. So yes, I do not know true meanings of words.
Hagrid interrupts the sexual tension.
Hagrid: *tapping on glass* HARRY! HARRY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Harries expression is priceless. His face is the definition of WTF?!?
Harry: BUT I DON'T WANT A FUCKING OWL!
Hagrid: Too bad! Get out here without paying for your wand, come on!