J K Rowling - [Harry Potter 0X]

by Harry Potter

  “Excuse me, my friend over there is Harry Potter,” Ron said to the wizard behind the counter. “So what kind of discount do we get?”

  “Let me check with my supervisor, guvn’or,” the old wizard replied in an obviously bored tone. He leaned back in his chair and without taking his bleary eyes off of Ron shouted over his shoulder to someone behind him. “Oi, Brian, we’ve got another one claimin’ to be ‘The Boy Who Lived’ and wantin’ a discount.”

  “What’s the count up to today, Curt?” a disembodied voice echoed from behind the wizard in the ticket window.

  “Eighth one today,” Curt, the ticket salesman responded. “That’s up four from yesterday.”

  “If this keeps up, we’ll break the record for most ‘Harry Potter Sightings’ in one day,” Brian commented.

  “But this really is Harry Potter!” argued Ron. “Look at his scar!”

  Harry felt the desire to physically harm Ron as Curt leaned out of his booth and examined Harry’s infamous scar.

  “Bit small innit?” remarked Curt. “The last “Harry Potter” to come through had a much bigger one. And his flashed a green light every now and then. That was impressive!”

  “Would you just pay for the tickets so the rest of us can move along!” the witch with three children demanded. “We don’t have all day!”

  “Fine then, how much for three?” Ron asked grumpily as he dug into his pockets.

  “Nine knuts,” Curt replied mirthlessly.

  “Excuse me, who runs this... this place,” Hermione demanded as she gestured to the warehouse.

  “Mr. Joseph Middwood,” Curt answered. Harry knew that he had heard that name somewhere, but he couldn’t place where. Harry hoped that Remus would know who this Middwood was and be able tell him something about the man.

  “I demand to speak with him this instant,” commanded Hermione.

  “That’s fine miss,” Curt replied. “He’s up in the gift shop.”

  “And how do we get there?” asked Hermione.

  “The only way to the gift shop is through the ride.”

  “You must be joking!” Hermione stated shrilly.

  “Nope,” Curt said with a smile. “You’ll still have to pay for the ride.”

  “Here,” grumbled Ron as he gave Curt nine knuts, a sweet wrapper, a bit of string, and some pocket lint. Apparently, Ron was so upset over not getting a discount that he had just grabbed whatever happened to be in his pocket. Luckily, it was the exact amount needed for three adult tickets - plus a sweet wrapper, a bit of string, and some pocket lint.

  Ron grumbled some more as he sulked through the entranceway as Harry and Hermione silently followed.

  “C’mon you two,” Ron hollered from down the hall, “the ride’s this way!”

  The trio began to walk down a brightly lit hallway adorned with multiple magical posters.

  ”I don’t see why you’re so excited about this ride, Ron,” said Hermione.

  The first poster that caught Harry’s eye was that of a young baby, maybe a year or so old. It took him a moment to realize that it was actually a photo of himself. He was slightly embarrassed by the fact that baby Harry was blowing spit bubbles at the person who had taken the picture. A title scrolled across the bottom of the poster stating “The Boy Who Lived!”

  A poster to his left showed the handsome visage of his father, James. James was smiling and winking in the poster while words scrolling at the bottom of the picture announced, “James Potter; father of The Boy Who Lived”.

  “Why not?” Ron replied to Hermione’s question. “I know that it’s a little lame, but it’s still fun!”

  Another poster showed Lily, Harry’s mother, smiling sweetly with the scrolling words: “Lily Potter, mother of The Boy Who Lived”. Harry felt his eyes begin to well up.

  “FUN!” barked Hermione. “These people are making a mockery of Harry’s pain and you think its ‘fun’?”

  “What d’you mean ‘a mockery’ -?” Ron asked and stopped as he finally noticed the tears in Harry’s eyes. Ron looked nervously between Harry and a nearby poster that show a jubilant James and Lily looking at a black-haired baby attempting to walk on his own. “Oh, crap, Harry,” Ron mumbled in a guilty way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...”

  “Let’s just get this over with,” Harry said softly with a mixture of sadness and anger in his voice.

  The next poster that caught Harry’s eye was that of a menacing figure completely shrouded within a black robe with the phrase “The most feared Dark Lord in our time!” scrolled across the bottom.

  Harry shook his head in disbelief and passed through a doorway and entered a large room with a number of wooden carts on several tracks. The tracks led out of the room through a large set of double doors. A wizard wearing a pointy hat with the words “Ride the Hollow!” embroidered on it ushered Harry, Hermione, and Ron into the front row of one of the carts. A family of three took up the row behind them.

  A disembodied booming male voice emanated from somewhere above the cart.

  “Join us as we use the magical Time Turner to travel back to that fateful day...”

  An obviously phony Time Turner attached to the front of the cart started spinning before their eyes.

  “That’s not a real Time Turner, ya know,” informed Ron like it wasn’t obvious and needed it to be pointed out.

  The cart lurched forward, and as the double doors slowly opened, the cart moved into the blackness. After a moment in the darkness, the cart and its passengers emerged into a bright and sunny field.

  “Watch as the Potter family goes about their daily routine,” the booming male voice stated as the cart approached a group of people outside the house.

  Harry could see two adult figures, a man and a woman, standing in the garden in front of that house. It was easy to see that these people were actually magical representations simply by the way they moved. Their leg and arm movements were too jerky and unnatural. They were clearly poorly animated mannequins. As the cart got closer, the woman stiltedly bent down and picked up a small child.

  “Let me have him, love,” the man said, and the woman carefully handed him the child. “Does Harry want to play with his daddy?”

  “Do be careful, James,” the woman chastised.

  Harry felt as if he was hit hard in the stomach and all the wind was knocked out of him.

  It was his mother and father.

  The fake James tossed the fake Harry up into the air and the baby giggled uproariously.

  Even though he could tell that the way the mannequins were fakes by their stuttering movement, whoever had created this charade had gotten his parents’ voices and likenesses down perfectly. Seeing and hearing these reproductions cut through Harry like a knife.

  The fake baby reached its chubby little arms out to its fake mother and Harry’s eyes blurred. He failed in his attempt to swallow the large lump that had grown in his throat as the tears spilled from his eyes.

  Hermione let out a soft sob as the fake Lilly took her fake baby into her arms and playfully placed tiny kisses over its face. Harry cradled Hermione to his chest as tears ran down his own face. He could tell without looking that Ron was hanging his head in regret at the thought of ever enjoying such a travesty of his friend’s life.

  The fake Potter family strolled into the house and the announcer’s voice sounded again.

  “But the Potters’ did not know of the terrible fate that awaited them...” the disembodied voice warned.

  The sunny sky over Harry’s head quickly darkened. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed as the cart entered the garden.

  “You too shall share their fates this night!” the booming voice cackled.

  The little girl sitting behind Harry turned to her father and said something that must have been terribly important to her.

  “I love you, Daddy,” the girl whispered in absolute fear, as if she was positive she was doomed and she wanted to make sure her father knew how much she cared for him befor
e she died.

  With a flash of lightning, an ominous figure appeared in front of the cart. The family behind Harry let out a terrified scream as the figure revealed his deeply tanned face to them. Harry could tell from their screams that the girl and her brother were truly terrified, but the father was just playing along.

  “IT’S HIM!” the girl screeched.

  Harry was surprised when a scoffing noise escaped his lips upon the sight of “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named”. Harry bitterly realized that while whoever had created this atrocity obviously had numerous photos of James, Lily, and baby Harry to base their mannequins off of, but they hadn’t even a vague notion of what Voldemort looked like. The effect was comical to Harry; this Voldemort was just a standard male mannequin that would have normally adorned a shop window. The only modification that Harry could see was that the mannequin had red eyes.

  “Do you mind?” the father stated, taking offence at Harry’s scoff.

  The fake Voldemort made his way to the front door of the house and the cart followed him. The mannequin pointed his wand at the door.

  “They’ve got the wand wrong,” Harry bitterly muttered. “Along with how he looks as well.”

  “And how would you know?” the father asked.

  Harry turned in his seat and looked at the man while holding up his fringe to expose his famous scar.

  “Oooo,” the father said with insincere awe. “It’s the bloke who wanted a free ticket because he’s ‘Harry Potter’. Just because you had to pay like the rest of us ‘cuz your scam didn’t work doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for everybody.”

  Harry was about to put the wizard in his place when the Voldemort-mannequin shouted “REDUCTO!”

  Red sparks erupted from his wand just as the door and a portion of the wall surrounding it were “blown” to bits. Of course the hole in the wall had just happened to be wide enough for the cart to pass through.

  The cart followed the Voldemort-mannequin into the house.

  “Lilly, get Harry out of here!” the fake James shouted and he fired off a number of brightly colored sparks out of his wand. The family behind Harry let out a surprised yelp as one of the sparks soared over their heads and exploded against the far wall.

  The Lily-mannequin dashed up the stairs with the fake child in her arms. James continued to fire off sparks as he too made his way to the stairs.

  “This is futile, Potter,” the mannequin Voldemort hissed. Harry noted another mistake that the ride makers had made; this Voldemort’s voice was low and rumbling instead of high and cold. “Accept your fate and surrender.”

  The fake James slowly walked backwards up the stairs with his wand held in front of him defensively. The Voldemort-mannequin cackled while walking up the stairs after his prey and the cart followed him.

  Sparks continued to shoot out of the fake-James’ wand and continued to completely miss the Voldemort-mannequin, not even coming close to the target. Blue, red, yellow, and purple sparks rocked overhead and the family behind the trio let out another scream.

  “Boy, that James bloke couldn’t aim worth a darn could he, kids?” the father asked rhetorically as another barrage of sparks flew past Voldemort and over the cart.

  “This ends now, Blood-Traitor!” Voldemort said mirthlessly and then shouted “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

  The magical copy of James slumped to the floor and the fake-Voldemort stepped over his body. As the cart passed “the body,” the wizard sitting behind Harry said jokingly to his children “I guess he should’ve ducked, huh?”

  Harry was suddenly enraged. Not only did this ride make a mockery of his parents, it encouraged people to treat them with open contempt as well.

  “REDUCTO!” the fake-Voldemort shout again once he had reached the top of the stairs. Another cart sized hole was blown into the wall and the fake-Voldemort walked over the strategically positioned rubble to enter the nursery.

  “I’ll make you pay for that, you fiend!” the mannequin Lilly screamed and shot off a series of Stunners at the fake-Voldemort who nonchalantly blocked them.

  “This is pointless, woman,” the fake-Voldemort said in a bored tone.

  “I won’t let you hurt my baby!” Lily said defiantly as she stood in front of the crib.

  ‘This isn’t how it happened!’ Harry thought piercingly. Then again, the only two people alive who were actually there, he and Voldemort, didn’t have much say in how this ride was made.

  “And how will you stop me?” chuckled Voldemort. “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

  With a flash of green light, the mannequin of Lily crumpled to the floor. Silently, Voldemort stalked over to the crib and pointed his wand at the baby inside. Once more, Voldemort shouted “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

  The fake Voldemort recoiled from the crib as a bright white light emanated from it.

  “What is this?” he demanded as the fake baby Harry began to levitate out of the crib. The toddler was throwing off the bright light that had made Voldemort flinch. Then suddenly, an even brighter light - almost blinding light - flashed out of the baby’s head like a lightning bolt and struck Voldemort. The villain screamed in pain and vanished in a puff of smoke.

  The family behind Harry cheered triumphantly as the cart move toward the wall next to the crib and the hovering baby Harry (who was still glowing). A large double door suddenly appeared and opened in the wall and the cart passed through.

  The cart and its passengers entered a crowded gift shop. Harry’s eyes were drawn to the back wall which was covered with various pullovers with different slogans printed on them, including “James couldn’t hit the broadside of an Acromantula”, “I rode shotgun with You Know Who”, and “I think glowing Harry is adorable”. Another wall housed numerous books with titles like, “The Riddle of Harry and the Dark Lord, by Jim Lillian”, “Lily and Her Acceptance of Fate, by A. R. YaLing” and “Aiming Tips or How not to miss like James Potter by Gregory Youdle.”

  But the thing that shocked Harry the most was a large barrel located next to the checkout. The barrel was overflowing with small figurines of glowing babies. Glowing baby Harry’s, that is.

  “Daddydaddydadddy” the older child behind Harry squealed. “Can I have another glowing baby Harry?”

  “You already have dozens, love,” the father replied as he stood up and began to walk out of the cart. Harry and his friends however, were still sitting in the cart in various stages of shock and embarrassment.

  “Please, daddy,” the boy whined, “just one more.”

  “All right, just one more,” the father said while making his way toward the books.

  “Sorry folks,” a pimply faced wizard said breaking Harry out of his stupor. “But you’ll need to exit the magical transport now.” He stressed the phrase “magical transport” as if he was trained to do so and that if he didn’t refer to the cart as such, he would face disciplinary action.

  Gloomily, the trio exited the cart.

  “Excuse me, where may I find Mr. Middwood?” Hermione asked the pimply wizard.

  “Oh, he’s over there by the books,” informed the wizard.

  Harry saw the wizard who had been seated behind them on the cart approach the identified manager, a grey haired wizard in expensive looking silk robes.

  “Mr. Middwood, smashing to see you again,” greeted the father.

  “Ah, Mr. Cummings, my favorite customer,” heralded Middwood as he took the other man’s hand in greeting. “What’s this, your fourth time on the ride this year?”

  “Fifth, actually, but it’s the first for my youngest here,” corrected Mr. Cummings. “She’d been dreaming of the day she was finally tall enough for the ride. Personally, I can’t wait ‘til you add the graveyard scene for You Know Who’s resurrection.”

  “Oh, yes,” Middwood replied proudly. “I have to tell you that my Death Eaters look quite frightening.”

  Unconsciously, Harry stomped over to the two men. Harry was going to vent all of his anger upon Middwood. Behind him he could hear an explosio
n coming from the ride. Apparently, the ride had restarted with the next cart was making its way through the house. Judging by his ride, Harry believed that the fake Voldemort must’ve just blown up the front door of the house.

  “I can’t wait to see them!” exclaimed Mr. Cummings.

  “It will be quite exciting, I promise you,” Middwood declared.

  “Are you Joseph Middwood?” Harry asked after he reached the two men.

  Without turning around, Middwood replied “Yes, I am.”

  “What have you done to my parents’ house?” demanded Harry.

  “Not another one,” Middwood muttered. Mr. Cummings rolled his eyes in annoyance as Middwood turned to face Harry. “Listen here, I’m not gonna share my profits with some bloke who claims to be Harry Po-” Middwood froze as he locked eyes with Harry. “Oh bloody hell...”

  “What have you done with my parents’ house?” repeated Harry.

  “I... um...err...” Middwood stammered opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “H-hel-h-hello Harry, l-long time no see,” he finished nervously.

  “What have you done with my parents’ house?” repeated Harry, anger apparent on his face. Another explosion erupted from somewhere in the ride, apparently, Voldemort had just entered the nursery.

  “Well, it... it blew up... and I decided to rebuild it...” explained Middwood desperately hoping to calm the young wizard.

  “Wait. Are you saying that this is actually Harry Potter?” asked Mr. Cummings in disbelief.

  “Stuff it, ponce,” Ron stated, joining the group.

  “When I was in the process of rebuilding Godric’s Hollow... some people started to stop by... they wanted a tour... they offered me money... I couldn’t pass it up,” Middwood continued.

  Another blast emanated from the ride as Harry clenched his fists in rage.

  “And you decided to make the death of Harry’s parents a tourist attraction?” demanded Hermione.

  “Well, not originally. But one thing led to another...” replied Middwood meekly.

  With a boom, Harry heard the double doors leading into the gift shop open and smoke billowed into the room.