Marauder MST - The Philosopher's (Sorceror's) Stone

They drove. And they drove.

Peter - Sounds a little like the Hogwarts Express.
Sirius - Only because someone gets travel-sick...
Peter - 'S'not my fault, is it?

Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turning and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

James - Meaning that, in a few hours, they arrived right back where they started...

'Shake 'em off.... shake 'em off,' he would mutter whenever he did this.

Remus - Fleas? I've got some powder...

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day.

All - >.<

But nightfall Dudley was howling.

Sirius - Spoilt brat.

He'd never had such a bad day in his life.

All - Awwww.... shame....

He was hungry,

James - So's Harry.
Sirius - Yeah, why do we care about how Dudley feels?

he'd missed five television programmes he'd wanted to see and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Remus - And? Read a book or something!
Sirius - Hum!
Peter - Play I Spy!
James - Play Quidditch!
Sirius - In the car?
James - Yep.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city.

Sirius - The Sorceror's Seaview?
James - That's closed down, hasn't it?
Sirius - ...uh... heheh....
Remus - (very quickly) Yes, it has, hasn't it, Sirius?
Sirius - Uh... yeah...

Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets.

Peter - Ohhhh, it's a Traveller's Halt!
James/Sirius/Remus - Huh?
Peter - Muggle chain of crappy hotels.

Dudley snored but Harry

Sirius - Being a werewolf since the accident in the hospital, barked as he slept.
Remus - Oh, shut up about the barking!
James - You do, though...

stayed awake,

Peter - No, it's his vampire side tonight...

sitting on the window-sill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...

Sirius - Where they were going.
James - Why one of the cars had stopped and was shaking.
Peter - Why he'd got amnesia.
Remus - Who was writing to him?
James - Nah, too boring...

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast next day.

Sirius - Oh, the excitement! The excitement!

They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.
''Scuse me, but is one of you Mr H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk.'

All - *fall over laughing*
Remus - They're going to have to give in eventually...

She held up the letter so they could read the green ink address:

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

James - As Harry turned his uncle into a chicken and opened the letter.

'I'll take them,' said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining-room.

'Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?' Aunt Petunia suggested timidly,

James - I already told you, you ARE going home! He's going to take you round in a circle eventually!

hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her.

Peter - He's a deaf vampire werepig...

Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew.

Sirius - Which really increases their chances of finding it, doesn't it?

He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, half-way across a suspension bridge and at the top of a multi-storey car park.

James - So, there's no method to his madness...
Peter - No, he's just mad. [1]

'Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?' Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon.

Sirius - Yup. But don't worry, it's a normal state of mind.
Remus - (to Peter and James) ...and just why does Sirius think that insanity is a normal state of mind?
James/Peter - *snigger*
Sirius - ...I'll get you for that, Moony...
Remus - *smirks*

Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car and disappeared.

Peter - I get it now... he just wanted to get rid of them all. He's a murderer...
James - HEY! That's my SON in there!

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car.

Sirius - Hey, nice rhythm!
James - Sirius, do not start dancing. Sit. Siiiit... good dog!
Sirius *sitting* - Shut up.

Dudley snivelled.

Remus - (in a fairly decent Scottish accent) Ach, laddie, quit yer whinin'!

'It's Monday,' he told his mother.

All - *go into shock*
Peter - He knows the days of the week...
Remus - Miracles may never cease.

'The Great Humberto's on tonight.

James/Sirius/Remus - On where?
Peter - On television, I think...

I want to stay somewhere with a television.'

Peter - Yup. Whose turn it it?
James - Spoilt brat.
Sirius - *points to James* His.

Monday.

Remus - Yes, we have now established that it is Monday.
Sirius - No, it's Wednesday today...
Remus - *thwaps Sirius* (the Scottish accent makes a comeback) In the book, laddie, in the book!

This reminded Harry of something.

James - Tomorrow would be Tuesday?

If it was Monday - and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television -

Sirius - Ah, I see. He had something to gain personally by learning the days of the week. That explains it all.

then tomorrow, Tuesday,

Peter - Oh my God! James knew what day comes after Monday! *whacked by James*
Sirius/Remus - *snigger*

was Harry's birthday.

Remus - Happy birthday to yoooooou....

Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun

Sirius - Unhappy birthday to yoooooou....

- last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat-hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.

James - Charming.

Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Peter - You will be for the next year, Harry me lad...
Sirius - Yeah. Odd, that.
James - Very strange. Something fishy going on there.
Remus - Are you sure you don't have your prescriptions?
James/Sirius - What prescriptions?

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling.

Remus - Not good.

He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

Sirius - Don't tell me.. let me guess... a wand?

'Found the perfect place!' he said. 'Come on! Everyone out!'
It was very cold outside the car.

James - Right, that does it. I'm calling the social workers.
Peter - Uh, James? The boy hasn't been born yet...
Remus - Yeah. Besides, he's ten, hes' got to get used to the cold sooner or later...

Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out to sea.

Peter - Ah, yes... the perfect place...

Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

James - (scribbling on a piece of parchment) Forced.... to... live... in... mis-er-able... little... shack...

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

Peter - It's not Hagrid, is it?
Sirius - I decline comment.
Peter - You just don't want to lose again.
Sirius - Too right.

A toothless old man came ambling up to them,

Sirius - Hey! Rocky was wrong for once!

pointing, with a rather wicked grin,

James/Sirius - *grin wickedly*
Remus - Prescriptions, please...
James/Sirius - What prescriptions?

at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

Peter - Bobbing for apples?
Sirius - Nah, just bobbing... up and down, up and down...

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"
It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces.

James - (writing again) Forced... into... small... cold... boat... in... a... storm...

After what seemed like hours

James - ...for... hours...
Remus - Uh, James? It seemed like hours.
James - Yeah, but just hours makes it sound like longer.

they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.
The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

James - ...small... cold... damp... house... in... middle... of... sea...
Peter - Y'know, Prongs, that's getting really annoying.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of crisps each and four bananas.

Sirius - (grabs a quill and joins James on the floor) Not... enough... food...
Peter - (to Remus) Do you get the feeling they're taking this just a little too seriously?
Remus - Yep...

He tried to start a fire but the empty crisp bags just smoked and shriveled up.
"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

All - Cruelty to MWPP Products!

He was in a very good mood.

Remus - Hmph. After all our hard work, too.
James - Shame.
Sirius - Shouldn't be allowed.
James - Certainly not.

Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail.

Remus - You'd be amazed, Mr Dursley. Really, you would.

Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

Sirius - Awww... poor Prods...

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them.

Peter - Of all the times for the weather forecast to be right...

Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows.

James - Hut... about... to... collapse...
Peter/Remus - STOP THAT!

Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.

Sirius - *raises hand* Permission to write this down?
Remus - Denied. That's getting irritating.
Peter - Yes, sir, Professor Lupin, sir!
Remus - Aw, shaddup, I'm no teacher.
Peter - Riiiiight...
James - *finishes scribbling about the hut* Have I missed something?
Sirius/Remus/Peter - *roll eyes*

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on.

Peter - Fun.

Harry couldn't sleep.

James - Why am I not surprised?

He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger.

Sirius - Best years of his life.

Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time.

All - Happy birthday to yoooou...
Sirius - (still singing) This stinks of deja vu...
Remus - It does?
Sirius - Yeah, you sang this earlier, remember?
Remus - Oh yeah...

He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all,

Sirius - At a guess... no.

wondering where the letter writer was now.

Remus - At a guess... coming to give him a letter.

Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did.

James - That's the spirit, son!
Peter - Yeah, and he will be a spirit if the roof falls on him.

Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.

Remus - Now, that's more like it!

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

Sirius - He's a real optimist, our Prods, isn't he?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten... nine -- maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him

All - Go Harry!

-- three... two... one...

BOOM.

Peter - ACK! What was that?

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

Sirius - No, duh.