Harry: *waking up* Whoa, I just had the craziest dream that my uncle took us to a shack in the middle of the ocean in order to hide from my mysterious stalker, and then some giant dude busted down the door and told me I was a wizard *sees Hagrid asleep on the couch* and apparently I'm still dreaming.
Hagrid: No you're not *something hits the window* Ah, that'll be me copy of the Daily Prophet.
Harry: The what now?
Hagrid: Blimey, how do you not…oh, right, ignorant muggles. Forgot.
Harry: Speaking of which, did you really give Dudley a pigtail last night?
Hagrid: Heh heh, yeah, that was fun.
Harry: That was kinda cruel, wasn't it?
Hagrid: I thought you hated them.
Harry: I didn't say I didn't approve.
Hagrid: Excellent. Now, let's go get your stuff for the school year.
Harry: And we're just gonna leave the Dursley's on this rock with no way of getting off?
Hagrid: Yes.
Harry: Excellent.
*they go outside and find the owl lying on the ground below the window*
Hagrid: Aww, the poor thing broke its neck.
Harry: What do we do with it?
Hagrid: *setting the owl on fire* Breakfast.
Harry: Was that your owl?
Hagrid: No, but who's gonna stop me?
Harry: Fair enough.
*later, at the train station in the town*
Guy selling train tickets: Sir, these aren't real coins.
Hagrid: 'course they are. I buy stuff with 'em all the time.
Guy selling train tickets: Sir, English currency is made of copper. This appears to be made of gold.
Hagrid: So it's worth more than normal money?
Guy selling train tickets: Well, yeah, but…
Hagrid: Great, you just keep that there wizard money, and I'll *sees ticket guy staring at him* oh, uh…AMNESIA DUST!
Guy selling train tickets: Amnesia what? *Hagrid punches him in the face*
Harry: That wasn't dust, that was a punch.
Hagrid: 'arry, I'm roughly twice the size of Gaston, with pretty much the same muscle ratio. That guy has amnesia, regardless of whether it was from a punch or from dust.
Harry: Hagrid, that movie you referenced doesn't come out until November.
*later, in London*
Harry: So, where do we get the stuff I need for school?
Hagrid: Right through here *points at the Leaky Cauldron*
Harry: Okay, eleven year old boy gets taken away from his family by a strange man in a trench coat who offered him sweets after tracking him across the country, and the first place we go is a rundown old pub. And yet, this is somehow still my best birthday ever.
Hagrid: Don't worry lad, I know this place well.
Harry: Come here a lot, do you?
Hagrid: Err, once or twice *enters pub*
Bartender Tom: Hey Hagrid, the usual? *pulls out two large kegs from beneath the bar*
Harry: Once or twice, eh?
Hagrid: I meant once or twice a week.
Bartender Tom: Hey, who's the kid…holy fuckballs is that HARRY FUCKING POTTER?!
*everyone in the bar turns to look at them*
Hagrid: Quiet Tom, we're trying to keep a low profile.
Bartender Tom: Fine, I won't tell anyone you're here with HARRY POTTER!
*everyone in the bar rushes up to them*
Hagrid: God damn it Tom.
Doris Crockford: Mr. Potter, it is an honour to meet you. May I shake your hand?
Harry: Umm…okay? *shakes her hand*
Dedalus Diggle: Mr. Potter, please tell me you remember the time I bowed to you in the muggle mall.
Harry: I do. My aunt called security and accused you of being a paedophile.
Dedalus Diggle: Ah, you do remember. Such a wonderful day.
Doris Crockford: *wearing a fake moustache and speaking in a fake accent* Ah, Mr. Potter. A pleasure to meet you for the first time. May I shake your hand?
Harry: Didn't I already shake your hand?
Doris Crockford: What? No. My name Dor…ian. John Dorian. Yes, that's it.
Harry: Whatever you say. Just don't space out and have a weird fantasy moment *shakes her hand*
Doris Crockford: *snaps out of a fantasy moment* THE EELS ARE COMING!
Quirrell: H-h-h-harry P-p-p-potter. I-i-i-I'm h-h-h-h-honoured to be m-m-m-meeting you.
Harry: T-t-t-today sir.
?: Are you just gonna stand there and take that? Kill the boy.
Harry: Did you say something?
Quirrell: N-n-n-no.
?: But I did.
Quirrell: Sh-sh-sh-shut up back th-th-th-there.
Doris Crockford: *wearing a sombrero and using an even worse and racist accent* Senor Potter, might I please get to shake your hand?
Hagrid: Alright, this joke's gone on way to long. Come on 'arry *drags him out the back door*
Harry: You know, somehow that didn't change how creepy my situation was outside the pub. Especially the weird guy with the turban.
Hagrid: Ye mean yer Defence against the Dark Arts professor?
Harry: Oh good, I'll be hearing more weird voices coming from nowhere.
Hagrid: Say what?
Harry: Nothing. So...is this where you finish your mall Santa initiation, or…
Hagrid: Two paedophilia jokes on the same page. Kieran's mum must be so proud. No 'arry, this is where I do this. *Hagrid tapped a brick on the wall, and suddenly a gateway opened to Diagon Alley*
Harry: *staring at all the magical stuff* I don't even remember you giving me something that could drug me.
Hagrid: Can't you just accept that this is happening? Now come on, we have some banking to do *leads Harry into Gringott's*
Harry: Whoa, what the fuck are those things?
Hagrid: Those are goblins.
Harry: David Bowie's here?
Hagrid: Silly Harry. He's a king. Why would he be working in a bank?
Griphook: Welcome to Gringott's sirs. How may I help you?
Hagrid: I need to withdraw some stuff from vaults 687 and 713.
Griphook: Very well, just present the key for no. 687 and a letter of approval for no. 713 and we'll be on our way.
Hagrid: Hold on, get 'em 'ere somewhere *Hagrid starts emptying stuff out of his pockets onto the desk, including old dog biscuits, a roast chicken, several shiny stones, a broken bicycle, and Molly Ringwald's career* Ah, here they are *presents the key and the letter to Griphook while putting all the stuff back in his pockets*
Harry: You should probably give that back to Molly Ringwald.
Hagrid: I'll get around to it.
Griphook: All right then, come along *leads them to the rollercoaster*
Harry: This doesn't seem safe.
Griphook: Don't worry, if you haven't done anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about *off in the distance, one of the rails breaks for no apparent reason* Let's go.
*while heading down to the vaults*
Hagrid: Oh, I think I'm gonna throw up *throws up. The force from the rollercoaster's frequent turns forces the puke back into his face* Goddammit.
*at Vault 687. Griphook opens the Vault*
Harry: Wow, that's a lot of money. Whose is it?
Hagrid: It's all yours 'arry.
Harry: No, seriously, whose is it?
Hagrid: It's…yours.
Harry: What the fuck? Not only were my parents wizards, they were also rich?
Hagrid: Two and a half thousand galleons isn't that much.
Harry: Yeah, but imagine how much I could sell all that gold for in the normal world.
Griphook: Yes, imagine how much an eleven year old boy could sell hundreds of pounds of gold he has no way of explaining how he got for. Do you even know where you should sell it?
Harry: …Let's just get some cash and go.
*later, at vault 713. Griphook opens the vault*
Harry: HA! I'm richer than whoever owns this one. All they have is a grubby little package *Hagrid takes it out* And now they don't even have that.
Hagrid: But what's in the package is more valuable than anything you've got.
Harry: Really? What is it?
Hagrid: I can't tell ye that.
Harry: Is it the philosopher's stone?
Hagrid: How the hell do you know that?
Harry: Duh, the title of this fanfic.
Hagrid: Fine, yes, it is. But you have to pretend you don't know until you find out.
Harry: But I already know.
Hagrid: I have some more amnesia dust.
Harry: What's in the package Hagrid?
Hagrid: That's better.
*later, on the street*
Hagrid: Okay, first let's start with getting you some robes. Madame Malkin's the place for that.
Harry: Are you coming?
Hagrid: Nah, I'm still sick from those carts. I'm gonna get something from the Leaky Cauldron.
Harry: Yeah, I'm sure alcohol never makes anyone sick.
Hagrid: Exactly. See ya later *leaves*
*inside Madame Malkin's*
Madame Malkin: Oh, goodie, another young boy. Come this way, I'm put you with the other one.
Harry: I'm just here to get some robes.
Madame Malkin: Either way I get to strip you.
Harry: WHAT?!
Madame Malkin: Get over here.
Harry: Hey, what are you…AHH! *gets dragged into a backroom*
Madame Malkin: Oh, you two are so cute together. You are my new OTP.
Blonde haired little shit: HEY! Don't call me cute. I'll tell my father about that.
Harry: Can I just get my robes now?
Blonde haired little shit: And can I have…you know, ANYTHING now?
Madame Malkin: Well, I guess you are a little young to really be a couple. Here you go…um…what were your names?
Blonde haired little shit: Draco Malfoy.
Madame Malkin: Alright Draco. And you are…
Harry: Taking my robes and leaving.
Madame Malkin: Alright Taking My Robes. In a few years you two will be…hey, where'd Taking My Robes And Leaving go?
Blonde haired little shit: Taking his robes and leaving.
*outside*
Harry: Phew, I got away from that creepy woman.
Hagrid: Hiya 'arry. I got almost all the rest o' ye stuff.
Harry: How? You didn't have any money.
Storeperson: SOMEBODY STOP THAT HALF-GIANT!
Hagrid: Come on, we gotta go get yer wand.
Harry: Wait a sec, is that an owl?
Hagrid: Yeah? So?
Harry: Why would the Dursleys let me keep a freaking bird?
Hagrid: 'arry, now is not the time to be asking questions. I am currently being chased by five *one of the storepeople tries to grab Hagrid, Hagrid throws him against a wall* four vendors for shoplifting. Let's just get your wand and leave.
*Harry and Hagrid enter Ollivander's*
Ollivander: Ah, Mr. Potter, so good to finally see you.
Harry: Are you that Doris Crockford woman again?
Ollivander: Ah, Doris. Dogwood, kneazle whisker core, ten inches, kinda springy.
Harry: That does nothing to lower my suspicions.
Ollivander: Oh, don't worry, I just really like wands. I remember every one I've ever had. Nice, long, thick, smooth…
Harry: I really hope you're still talking about wands.
Ollivander: Why? What else could I possibly be talking about?
Harry: …Never mind. Can I get a wand now?
Ollivander: Certainly. Try this one *hands him the first wand* Just grip the shaft tightly…
Harry: Please stop talking *he flicks the wand, and a shelf explodes*
Ollivander: Hmm, maybe not. How about this one? Just remember to…
Harry: I don't want your instructions *he flicks the wand, and a small section of the roof collapses* I'm going to have to pay for that, aren't I?
Ollivander: Not at all. I love giving kids my wand.
Harry: Care to rephrase that?
Ollivander: Nope. Now, let me…AHA!
Harry: I don't think I'm going to like the next words out of your mouth.
Ollivander: Long and flexible, made for strong hands.
Harry: Nope.
Ollivander: Try it.
Harry: Don't really have a choice, do I? *he flicks the wand, and red and gold sparks fly out of it*
Ollivander: I knew it. I knew the brother of the wand that killed your parents would be the right one.
Harry: Say WHAT?!
Ollivander: Well, off you go.
*later at the train station*
Hagrid: Well, Your train's here to take ye back to Surrey. This is where I leave ye.
Harry: But Hagrid, do you really think the Dursley's are going to let me go to Hogwarts? Hell, they don't even know I'm here, because they're still on that rock in the ocean. Also, how am I meant to carry all this stuff by myself? *suddenly notices Hagrid's not there* Hagrid?