Lesson Number One

Lesson Number One

Harry strolled down the cobbled street which was Diagon Alley. He had signed 460 autographs, posed for 39 photos and been recognised as Daniel Radcliffe all 499 times and he was beginning to get annoyed. Turning Diagon Alley into a tourist attraction was areally bad idea he thought as another fat kid with Daniel's face stretched across their stomach saw him and started to run/pound/plod towards shouting words that were undistinguishable but sounded strangely like "DAANNNIELL!" Harry turned to avoid the overweight human hurtling towards him but it grabbed him by his arm and hurled him around. "CanIhaveyouratuograph!?" the kid roared in his face covering him in chocolate flavoured spit.

"Ye, whatever," Harry said as he took out his quill. But the kid didn't take out a Chocolate Frog wrapper or a page from his latest book which Harry usually had to sign; he just stuck out his belly and started to make groaning sounds as if he was under pressure. "Just...under....your...picture," he grunted. Harry shivered with disgust but he knew he had to do it. "I love....all your...films," the kid groaned as Harry was signing, "OW!"

"Oh...em...sorry," Harry mumbled evilly, "Quill must have...slipped."

When Harry was finished scrawling his name across the badly made T-shirt, the kid looked down, twisted his head and said "Who is Aairy Roteer?"

"That's Harry Potter," Harry said shortly while throwing his eyes to over polluted sky.

"Wooaahhh, the REAL Harry Potter©!"

"Err...you don't have to say the copyright bit."

"Sorry, I've just been brainwashed by the multi-media machine that is Warner Bros©. Anyways, would you like...make me a wizard cos' it's what I've ALWAYS wanted to be!"

"Em...yea alright, it's not like this story is going anywhere else."

"Okay, first, what's your name?" Harry asked the kid.

The pair was standing in Harry's sleek bachelor pad with its black mahogany furniture and clapper lamp.

"George...Hurney," said the kid slowly obviously dazed by the amount of chrome which surrounded him.

"Hmmm...too boring, it needs to be more...magical! How'd you like Georgwea McWinkle?&dquo;

"I don't like it."

"Ye, well my mind is hurting so you're stuck with it."

"Next, you need a new look, you know, to fit in with us wizards," Harry sniggered ,"and I don't think T-shirts seventeen sizes too small with the face of the wizard's world arch nemesis stretched across it are really in fashion."

"Buts it's soooooo cool," moaned Georgwea.

"Em...no...it's not. Anyway, let's see if I have any robes big enough."

Harry flicked through his wardrobe which contained all his robes including his one for special occasion which had little stars spelling out, "I'm SPECIAL! LOVE ME!" across the back-end. Finally he picked out his oldest and most stretched one and ventured into the kitchen to alter it. After 49 paper clips, a sock and a WHOLE pack of chocolate flavoured Cheerios, Harry thought it would fit Georgwea even if did make him look like a ninety year old prostitute with leprosy. (I hope this causes no offence to any real ninety year old prostitute with leprosy out there, but really! Get a new job!)

"Okay, now lastly. I need to teach you all the spells you will need. There are around 500, but I've only really ever used one, which is Expecto Paturmum" (Author's note: Tried to make that remotely funny and in some peoples mind it might be, but not mine. If you can't or just won't get it, try putting in spaces...see English is fun!)

"I have to expect to pat my mum?"(Now you get it.)

"No! It's the only spell you'll ever need. You can use it to create a nice shiny animal, enrage people who don't like nice shiny animals and kill those guys who slouch around dressed in all in black ...em...what are they called again? Oh yeah! Goths!" (Once again I hope this causes no offence out there to any real Goths who don't want to be associated with Harry Potter. Yeah, it's cool to not like anything...no offence, really)

"That's pretty much all I can teach you Georgwea, and we've barely filled a page on Word! We really need to do something to fill it up a bit," Harry wondered. "Why don't you sing a bit or something?"

"Errr...okay then."

Harry slipped in his ear-plugs.

"DOOOOOOOooooo your eyes hang low?

Do they wobble to and fro?

Can you throw em' over your shoulder like......emmm......

Okay I'm done."

Harry pulled out his ear-plugs. "Huh! That only filled four lines! Oh well let's get on with the story."

"Okay finally we need to integrate you with the wizard world. The easiest would be to send you to Hogwarts, but as it is really a back room of an adult video store, I think it'll do fine. I'll take you meet Dumbledore, the headmaster, tomorrow," said Harry as he weaved (barged in Georgwea's case) down Diagon alley.

"Why can't we just go now?" enquired Georgwea.

"Em...I need to visit the front room of Hogwarts for a.....meeting. It's very important." A slightly dazed look came over Harry's face.

The next day, after Harry's ...ahem...meeting, the duo arrived at Hogwarts. Georgwea was not very impressed with Dumbledore, who was a drunk who stank of lavender and cardboard for some strange reason. He greeted them both with a shower of whisky, and quickly began to show Georgwea around. Harry, who knew his way around already, began to talk to one of the more slutty looking students. (Is it just me or has Harry suddenly become very desperate?)

After the tour, Dumbledore stumbled over to Harry and said that Georgwea would be accepted into Hogwarts. Harry was overjoyed and left abruptly (with the student.)

Harry never did see Georgwea again, but he did enjoy the new food line which came out the next day: McWinkle burgers. They were like McD#*'@|d's but had slightly more meat (which still isn't much). McWinkle burgers then went on to take over the fast-food industry with over 76,000 million stores world-wide! It caused millions of deaths by coronaries and heart attacks, but who cares, the food tastes nice! (See how I turned this into an attack on the WHOLE fast food industry, and if you read my fanfic fourteen times backwards it will tell you a story about why we all LOVE McD/@#£**d's!)