Harry Potter Abridged! GOF Chapter 3
Jan. 21st, 2012 09:43 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sweettalkeress.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
deathtocapslock[Life at the Dursleys goes on as usual.]
Petunia: Alright, come and get your tasty, nutritious grapefruit for breakfast!
Dudley: But Muuuuuuuuum, this is destroying my propensity to act like a nasty, slobbish, lazy Fatty McFatfat!
Petunia: Orders from your school nurse so quit your complaining!
Harry: Cheer up, Dudley- if you can get thinner you just might turn out to be an alright guy!
[Just then, Vernon gets a letter from the Weasleys.]
Vernon: Not this shit again.... Harry, we need to talk!
[Vernon drags Harry to the living room.]
Vernon: So... yeah. Those wizard friends of yours sent me a letter: “Dear Mr. Muggle. We want to take Harry to the Quidditch World Cup. We will take Harry there NO MATTER WHAT! Signed, Mrs. Weasley. PS: If we used too many of your bliddy stamps you can pay the cost.”
Harry: Well that’s saying something considering the envelope is covered in stamps!
Vernon: Do your friends have any idea that they look positively functionally retarded?
Harry: Well, they say the same thing about you.
Vernon: So who is this Mrs. Weasley, anyway?
Harry: She’s my best friend’s mother, of course!
Vernon: Yeah, yeah. Whatever. And... what is Quidditch?
Harry: It’s a game played on broomsticks that every one of us loves even though it makes no sense.
Vernon: Honestly, the stories you bring under our roof. You’re mighty ungrateful, considering everything we’ve done with you over the years.
Harry: Yeah, well... you guys are abusive! Oh, by the way, I’ve been telling my mass-murderer godfather that.
Vernon: ...Are you serious?
Harry: Yeah, he’s not happy. So let me go to my friends the Weasleys’ or I’ll tell him about the time you beat me with all sorts of-
Vernon: We did no such thing!
Harry: He doesn’t know it!
Vernon: Aye, aye, aye... alright, go hang out with your wizard friends, then! See if we care!
Harry: Alright, then I will!
[Harry then returns to his room to gorge himself on the sweets that his friends sent him.]
Harry: [Excessively twee] Ooh, goodie! I gets my sweeties today! I shall rise above the oppression- starting with my delicious birthday cakes that my friendses have sented me! *Gurgles* By the way, these cakes really should be getting rotten or moldy by now, but whatever.
[Just then, a tiny gray owl enters the room with a letter.]
Harry: You’re Ron’s owl, aren’t you? This is interesting. It says here, that they’ll be picking me up at five on sunday. Hermione is going to stay with them as well- convenient! Oh, and Percy is boringer and stupider than ever. Why do I get the feeling every single one of these events is orchestrated to get my trio together?
[Harry writes his eager reply and sends it back with the little owl, Pig, before sending Sirius a note with Hedwig explaining everything that’s been going on.]
Petunia: Alright, come and get your tasty, nutritious grapefruit for breakfast!
Dudley: But Muuuuuuuuum, this is destroying my propensity to act like a nasty, slobbish, lazy Fatty McFatfat!
Petunia: Orders from your school nurse so quit your complaining!
Harry: Cheer up, Dudley- if you can get thinner you just might turn out to be an alright guy!
[Just then, Vernon gets a letter from the Weasleys.]
Vernon: Not this shit again.... Harry, we need to talk!
[Vernon drags Harry to the living room.]
Vernon: So... yeah. Those wizard friends of yours sent me a letter: “Dear Mr. Muggle. We want to take Harry to the Quidditch World Cup. We will take Harry there NO MATTER WHAT! Signed, Mrs. Weasley. PS: If we used too many of your bliddy stamps you can pay the cost.”
Harry: Well that’s saying something considering the envelope is covered in stamps!
Vernon: Do your friends have any idea that they look positively functionally retarded?
Harry: Well, they say the same thing about you.
Vernon: So who is this Mrs. Weasley, anyway?
Harry: She’s my best friend’s mother, of course!
Vernon: Yeah, yeah. Whatever. And... what is Quidditch?
Harry: It’s a game played on broomsticks that every one of us loves even though it makes no sense.
Vernon: Honestly, the stories you bring under our roof. You’re mighty ungrateful, considering everything we’ve done with you over the years.
Harry: Yeah, well... you guys are abusive! Oh, by the way, I’ve been telling my mass-murderer godfather that.
Vernon: ...Are you serious?
Harry: Yeah, he’s not happy. So let me go to my friends the Weasleys’ or I’ll tell him about the time you beat me with all sorts of-
Vernon: We did no such thing!
Harry: He doesn’t know it!
Vernon: Aye, aye, aye... alright, go hang out with your wizard friends, then! See if we care!
Harry: Alright, then I will!
[Harry then returns to his room to gorge himself on the sweets that his friends sent him.]
Harry: [Excessively twee] Ooh, goodie! I gets my sweeties today! I shall rise above the oppression- starting with my delicious birthday cakes that my friendses have sented me! *Gurgles* By the way, these cakes really should be getting rotten or moldy by now, but whatever.
[Just then, a tiny gray owl enters the room with a letter.]
Harry: You’re Ron’s owl, aren’t you? This is interesting. It says here, that they’ll be picking me up at five on sunday. Hermione is going to stay with them as well- convenient! Oh, and Percy is boringer and stupider than ever. Why do I get the feeling every single one of these events is orchestrated to get my trio together?
[Harry writes his eager reply and sends it back with the little owl, Pig, before sending Sirius a note with Hedwig explaining everything that’s been going on.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-01-23 03:32 am (UTC)Lucius is targeting Albus through his supporters and proteges. Dobby is targeting Lucius through Harry. Albus is covering his own rear, at the possible expense of lives of students and staff-members (I wonder if he carried a mirror around with him that year?).