Harry Potter And The Title That Is Too Long For FA

Harry Potter (& Co.) and the Alternate, Politically Correct, Bad Fan Fiction Version of the Order of the Phoenix (And Its Equally Long Title)

The First Chapter: Happy Harry Hastens to Hogwarts...Heroically

It was Tuesday. It was that long-awaited Tuesday that the now 15-year-old Harry Potter had awaited so...lengthily. That perpetually far-off day that seemed to get only ever farther, quite defying the laws of time and quantum mechanics; that day that Harry had started counting down to the minute he had stepped across the threshold of the disgustingly suburban home of the most hated family in the Muggle community since his first year at Hogwarts: the Dursleys'.

As expected, the passing summer had been worse than all the other expectedly terrible summers that Harry had been forced to endure with the Dursleys, which, in passing, seemed to be steadily increasing in their horribleness (both the summers and the Dursleys, that is). And as if that wasn't enough to wrap your brain around, Vernon Dursley's physical and mental abuse of Harry went once again unavenged and unnoticed, as apparently there has been a rather prolonged shortage of social workers and child welfare inspectors in the area of Little Winging, Surrey and all the neighbours there are either completely oblivious, mentally retarded, or a combination of both. But of course, that's another story...

Anyway, about the Tuesday... The date and year relevant to this particular Tuesday won't be mentioned, of course, because that would probably be a copyright infringement of calendar companies everywhere, although this whole story in itself is a copyright infringement and probably plagiarism too, but the point is, this Tuesday was the day that Harry Potter would rejoin all of his jolly little wizard and witch friends at Hogwarts (as is the case in most poorly-written HP fics) and begin his...[overly dramatic pause]...FIFTH YEAR!

So, to make a long text describing Harry's journey to Platform 9 3/4 short, and to save the author the time and effort of inventing the monotonous details of the summer spent before he day where Harry would be shipped off to said Platform--basically all that happens anyway is that the Dursleys are degrading and nepotistic, Harry is anxious to get on with it, and Hedwig just wants to get out of her bloody cage--our (finally) pubescent hero packed his trunk, made certain that Hedwig was securely in her bloody!cage, instant-teleported himself to King's Cross Station (using a couple rubber bands, a tea-cup, and a conveniently-placed plot hole) and made his way across the crowded terminal, through the barrier, and onto the Platform, where he rushed hurriedly to find his friends and hopefully an empty compartment.

Now, seeing as our young Harry obviously had no time to go to Diagon Alley to purchase his school supplies, what with being so busy pining for his friends, cringing helplessly at his Uncle's banger insults, and covertly trying to complete his numerous and lengthy school assignments, I'm sure you'll all be relieved to know that, on his way to the train (and thanks to a stroke of completely random luck) Harry found an abandoned, but remarkably undamaged, 5^th year-required cauldron, filled with all the books he would need that year, right in the middle of his path.

"Hmm," he mused thoughtfully, showcasing the author's spectacularly inept grasp of human-sounding dialogue. "What a stroke of completely random luck! Who ever would have thought that an brand new cauldron filled with all the requisite school supplies I need for this year would be lying right in the middle of my path? Brilliant!"

Just as he said those words, the sky darkened ominously, the previously merrily shining sun becoming obscured by heavy dark clouds, and lightning and thunder flashed and boomed in their respective and quite creepy ways, for a length of exactly five minutes and 23 seconds. Harry had been counting. No, really! He had acquired an incredible grasp of mathematics and numeric-related equations in his happily-spent years at Muggle Grade School...well; actually, he just now acquired that talent because the author favors him, but SHHH! Don't tell anyone! But PLEASE REVIEW!

"Hmm," said Harry again (hey, he may not be spectacularly articulate, but at least he's consistent). "That was a sign. I know now what I must now do...now."

So Harry picked up the cauldron and continued merrily on his way to the train.