Oh my god I have never giggled this hard ever.
Dumbledore driving a hippie wagon with the Dursleys shoved in, Snape, Harry, a new Muggles Studies teacher, and Mr. Weasley?
Hilarity.
It was properly light by the time the little purple mini trundled wearily down the end of Privet Drive. A man out in his garden looking after the flowers turned to stare, unaware he was watering his mail box. Harry grinned. Suddenly, Privet Drive looked very funny. He gazed around at all the twee little lawns, perfectly cut to match the neighbours’, all the exactly similar houses, all the expensive cars in clear view out in the street. And here was Harry, in a bright purple mini with bobbles on the antennae, with four of the oddest people to ever set foot in Privet Drive.
“It’s there,” said Harry, pointing to the end of the street. “Number four. I think Uncle Vernon’s got a new car.”
Dumbledore pulled up right behind the new black car sitting in the drive. The exhaust gave off a little cloud of green smoke, as though the purple mini wanted to mock the shiny black BMW. Harry opened the door of the car and got out, grinning. He couldn’t wait to see the Dursleys’ faces. Dumbledore, Chetry, Mr Weasley and Snape all got out too and shut the doors of the car.
“Harry, I think you’d better come first,” said Mr Weasley. “I’ll stand with you, just in case... everybody else just wait here. We’ll try to be quick.”
Harry, still grinning, headed up the path. He remembered walking this way home from his old primary school every day, with Dudley following behind him, kicking his ankles. Standing neatly on the step, he lifted his hand, and knocked three times. There was a moment’s pause, and then it opened.
Uncle Vernon hadn’t changed at all. He was still built like a walrus, with a moustache to match, and dressed in his suit ready to go to work. He held a bottle of milk in one hand, but as the door swung open and he caught sight of just who it was standing on his front step, it slipped from his hand and shattered all over his perfectly shined shoes.
“Hiya,” said Harry, grinning. “We were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d drop by.”
Uncle Vernon was just staring at him in horror. His face was turning quickly from red, to white, and back again. “You!!”
“Me,” said Harry. He beamed at Uncle Vernon. “How are things? Hey, have you lost weight? You look so much slimmer.”
“What are you doing here?” Uncle Vernon hissed. “We got rid of you for good last year, and no way are we having you back! I don’t care if you’ve been expelled or what. Get out of my street!”
“Vernon? Who is it?” came Aunt Petunia’s voice. She stepped into the hall, cleaning a frying pan with a dish cloth. “It isn’t -” She saw Harry. And screamed. The frying pan hit the floor with a dull clunk.
“I apologise for the sudden appearance,” said Mr Weasley. “But you are in great danger, and we need you to come with us. We have word that Death Eaters are coming to attack your house, very soon, and if we don’t leave almost immediately then they may arrive and capture us all.”
Uncle Vernon gave Mr Weasley a highly suspicious look. “How am I supposed to believe this? Could be one of your little tricks. I know what your kind are like, and don’t you pretend you’re different. I’ve had enough of it. We got rid of the boy to stop you coming and pestering us, not to bring you back every year!”
“Please,” said Mr Weasley, desperately. “Do not risk your lives because of a silly prejudice. If you come with us, we promise you will be returned the moment the threat is out of the way.”
“And how soon will that be?” growled Uncle Vernon.
“As soon as possible,” said Mr Weasley. He put his hands together. “We assure you, this is a most serious matter.”
“Very well,” grunted Uncle Vernon. “But not for long mind! Dudley and I have to go to work very soon, and I’m not leaving him in the house on his own to get ready.”
“Dudley’s going to have to come to,” said Harry. “Unless you want him murdered.”
Uncle Vernon glared at Harry through his piggy eyes, then shouted upstairs. “Dudders! Come down here!”
“What is it?” came a loud shout back, in a voice that Harry hardly recognised anymore. “I’m trying to shave here!”
“You can do it later! Come down!” yelled Uncle Vernon. There were a lot of loud, heavy footsteps, and Dudley came lumbering down the stairs.
Harry couldn’t help but stare. He could hardly believe that the boy before him was the cousin that he grew up with. Dudley had suddenly grown a lot taller, and fatter too. His hair was shaved short around the back and sides, with a silly sort of tuft on top, and he was practically covered in acne. He wore a t-shirt with a rude slogan stretched across his belly, and he was dripping shaving cream along the old carpet as he went.
“What’s HE doing here?!” Dudley squawked as he saw Harry.
“It’s nice to see you too,” said Harry coolly.
“Get your coat on,” said Uncle Vernon gruffly. “We’ve got to go out for a while. Some Deaf Heaters or something coming to attack the house. Petunia, come on!”
The three Dursleys filed out of the house, pulling on coats as they went. Dudley was still leaving blobs of shaving cream on the path, and he was staring at Harry with half-anger and half-amazement. “What happened to you?” he said.
“Probably the opposite of what happened to you,” said Harry, dimly.
Uncle Vernon was just following Mr Weasley down the path, when he spotted the purple mini parked nearby. He stopped dead, staring at it in utter disgust. “What is that horrible little thing? I hope you don’t expect us to fit in there. Dudley’s a big lad.”
“Special wizarding car,” said Mr Weasley vaguely. “Packed with enlargement charms. We’ll fit, don’t you worry. Come along now, quickly... the Death Eaters might be coming right this second...”
Chetry, Snape and Dumbledore were all out of the car to greet the Dursleys. Chetry was grinning at them as they approached. Snape was wearing the completely opposite expression. Dumbledore smiled and shook hands politely.
“Nice to see you,” he said, pleasantly. The Dursleys said nothing. Dudley dripped a large dollop of shaving foam onto the head of a garden gnome nearby, but that was about it. “Now then,” said Dumbledore. “Everybody get in, and we’ll be off in a jiffy...”
‘Get in’ didn’t turn out to be quite so simple. Uncle Vernon had to sit in the passenger seat, with Aunt Petunia on his lap. In the back, they managed to fit Snape, Harry, Professor Chetry and Mr Weasley. Dumbledore was the only one with any room at all. Everybody was already squashed enough as it was, even with Dumbledore’s stretching charms on the car, but when they all looked out and saw Dudley was still to get in, they realised there was a major problem.
“You’ll all have to breathe in,” said Dumbledore. “Come on, that’s it... move up a bit Severus, there’s some room there...”
Everybody groaned and felt their ribs straining as Dudley squeezed into the car. After trying to slam the door four times and failing, they finally managed it. Harry could hardly breathe, squished between Snape and Mr Weasley.
“Well now,” said Dumbledore pleasantly. “Are we all comfy?”
Nobody answered, not trusting their mouths to come out with something they could say to such a respected wizard as Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore put his foot down, and the car struggled away from the path, wobbling as it tried to start on the road. Harry could feel the tension in the back seat straining to free itself, and sure enough, they had only gone a few metres when the doors gave way. Snape and Dudley were both ejected sideways and dumped onto the road. Mr Weasley, Professor Chetry and Harry all sighed at the relief to their rib cages. Dumbledore turned around and chuckled lightly. “Dear me,” he said. “Perhaps magic has its limits after all... well, this won’t do at all.” He stopped the car, and everybody got out. “We’re going to have to do some rearranging I think... the boot is big enough for one, I’m sure, but after that I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
"I am not going in the boot," said Snape, sternly, clearly sensing what was coming. "You have made me into a lot of things over the years, Albus, you have made me a fool many, many times but by Merlin I shall not get into that boot."
A few minutes later, Snape was lying in the boot, along with a rather reluctant Mr Weasley. Dudley was in the front seat, and squashed in the back was Aunt Petunia sitting on Uncle Vernon’s lap, and Harry perched on Professor Chetry awkwardly. His head was pressed uncomfortably against the ceiling, but at least he could breathe. It looked like a convention of yoga artists in the back seat.
Dumbledore was once again the only person with any proper leg room. “Now... is everybody comfortable? Are you alright back there, Severus?”
There was a lot of dark muttering from the trunk. Everybody tried not to smile too much.
“Then off we go,” said Dumbledore pleasantly, pushing a muggle tape into the cassette player, and pushing his foot on the accelerator. Most unfortunately for everybody in the car, during all the shuffling around, the gear stick had been jammed into third. They all lurched forward with a universal groan as the car kangaroo-hopped its way down Privet Drive, and Dumbledore chuckled quite delightedly. “Dear me!” he shouted over the noise of ‘Agadoo’ playing from the radio. “There seems to be a problem with the car!”
Harry nearly hit Dudley in the back of the head with his nose, but stopped just in time, and held onto the back of Dumbledore’s head-rest for support. Dudley was staring at Dumbledore as though he was utterly mad.
“Maybe you should change the gear,” he said, as with another lurch, the front window was splattered in shaving cream.
“Oh, of course!” said Dumbledore. “Thankyou, young man.” He reached down, and yanked it back into second gear.
Everybody screamed as the bright purple car shot forward like a bullet, zooming down the street with incredible speed. Dumbledore’s hands flew off the steering wheel and it spun right the way around, sending the car jerking and spinning out of control. There was another scream as they went crashing straight through a fence at the end of Privet Drive and out onto a large playing field, sending children shrieking for cover as the mad purple mini went tearing away across the grass, churning mud and splattering the back window as it went.
“USE THE BRAKES!!!” Uncle Vernon was bellowing, but Dumbledore was still having trouble with the steering wheel, trying to stop the car spinning and whirling as it went tearing down the hill. Harry could see his life flashing before his eyes - even more when he looked ahead, and saw a huge park lake surging towards them, getting closer and closer.
“LOOK OUT FOR THE LAKE!!!” he yelled, but it was too late.
The car hit the bank at an estimated speed of forty miles per hour, the engine shrieking nearly as loud as the passengers. Any muggles who happened to be watching their windows would have been mildly surprised to see a bright purple car (complete with large plastic hippy flower on the roof and Agadoo blazing through the windows) launch into the air and sail gracefully down towards the lake. Everybody was screaming, pounding at the windows, the musical disaster that was Black Lace blaring in their ears before Dumbledore yanked the steering wheel hard and the car turned just in time, missing the black waters by inches, soaring elegantly up into the sky like a large purple owl.
Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "This is turning out to be quite an adventure after all," he said, delightedly.
Everybody sat in stunned silence, all pale, all with identical looks of blind horror on their faces. From the back came the sound of Snape expelling his lunch, and Mr Weasley’s wail of indignation.
Hilarity.
It was properly light by the time the little purple mini trundled wearily down the end of Privet Drive. A man out in his garden looking after the flowers turned to stare, unaware he was watering his mail box. Harry grinned. Suddenly, Privet Drive looked very funny. He gazed around at all the twee little lawns, perfectly cut to match the neighbours’, all the exactly similar houses, all the expensive cars in clear view out in the street. And here was Harry, in a bright purple mini with bobbles on the antennae, with four of the oddest people to ever set foot in Privet Drive.
“It’s there,” said Harry, pointing to the end of the street. “Number four. I think Uncle Vernon’s got a new car.”
Dumbledore pulled up right behind the new black car sitting in the drive. The exhaust gave off a little cloud of green smoke, as though the purple mini wanted to mock the shiny black BMW. Harry opened the door of the car and got out, grinning. He couldn’t wait to see the Dursleys’ faces. Dumbledore, Chetry, Mr Weasley and Snape all got out too and shut the doors of the car.
“Harry, I think you’d better come first,” said Mr Weasley. “I’ll stand with you, just in case... everybody else just wait here. We’ll try to be quick.”
Harry, still grinning, headed up the path. He remembered walking this way home from his old primary school every day, with Dudley following behind him, kicking his ankles. Standing neatly on the step, he lifted his hand, and knocked three times. There was a moment’s pause, and then it opened.
Uncle Vernon hadn’t changed at all. He was still built like a walrus, with a moustache to match, and dressed in his suit ready to go to work. He held a bottle of milk in one hand, but as the door swung open and he caught sight of just who it was standing on his front step, it slipped from his hand and shattered all over his perfectly shined shoes.
“Hiya,” said Harry, grinning. “We were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d drop by.”
Uncle Vernon was just staring at him in horror. His face was turning quickly from red, to white, and back again. “You!!”
“Me,” said Harry. He beamed at Uncle Vernon. “How are things? Hey, have you lost weight? You look so much slimmer.”
“What are you doing here?” Uncle Vernon hissed. “We got rid of you for good last year, and no way are we having you back! I don’t care if you’ve been expelled or what. Get out of my street!”
“Vernon? Who is it?” came Aunt Petunia’s voice. She stepped into the hall, cleaning a frying pan with a dish cloth. “It isn’t -” She saw Harry. And screamed. The frying pan hit the floor with a dull clunk.
“I apologise for the sudden appearance,” said Mr Weasley. “But you are in great danger, and we need you to come with us. We have word that Death Eaters are coming to attack your house, very soon, and if we don’t leave almost immediately then they may arrive and capture us all.”
Uncle Vernon gave Mr Weasley a highly suspicious look. “How am I supposed to believe this? Could be one of your little tricks. I know what your kind are like, and don’t you pretend you’re different. I’ve had enough of it. We got rid of the boy to stop you coming and pestering us, not to bring you back every year!”
“Please,” said Mr Weasley, desperately. “Do not risk your lives because of a silly prejudice. If you come with us, we promise you will be returned the moment the threat is out of the way.”
“And how soon will that be?” growled Uncle Vernon.
“As soon as possible,” said Mr Weasley. He put his hands together. “We assure you, this is a most serious matter.”
“Very well,” grunted Uncle Vernon. “But not for long mind! Dudley and I have to go to work very soon, and I’m not leaving him in the house on his own to get ready.”
“Dudley’s going to have to come to,” said Harry. “Unless you want him murdered.”
Uncle Vernon glared at Harry through his piggy eyes, then shouted upstairs. “Dudders! Come down here!”
“What is it?” came a loud shout back, in a voice that Harry hardly recognised anymore. “I’m trying to shave here!”
“You can do it later! Come down!” yelled Uncle Vernon. There were a lot of loud, heavy footsteps, and Dudley came lumbering down the stairs.
Harry couldn’t help but stare. He could hardly believe that the boy before him was the cousin that he grew up with. Dudley had suddenly grown a lot taller, and fatter too. His hair was shaved short around the back and sides, with a silly sort of tuft on top, and he was practically covered in acne. He wore a t-shirt with a rude slogan stretched across his belly, and he was dripping shaving cream along the old carpet as he went.
“What’s HE doing here?!” Dudley squawked as he saw Harry.
“It’s nice to see you too,” said Harry coolly.
“Get your coat on,” said Uncle Vernon gruffly. “We’ve got to go out for a while. Some Deaf Heaters or something coming to attack the house. Petunia, come on!”
The three Dursleys filed out of the house, pulling on coats as they went. Dudley was still leaving blobs of shaving cream on the path, and he was staring at Harry with half-anger and half-amazement. “What happened to you?” he said.
“Probably the opposite of what happened to you,” said Harry, dimly.
Uncle Vernon was just following Mr Weasley down the path, when he spotted the purple mini parked nearby. He stopped dead, staring at it in utter disgust. “What is that horrible little thing? I hope you don’t expect us to fit in there. Dudley’s a big lad.”
“Special wizarding car,” said Mr Weasley vaguely. “Packed with enlargement charms. We’ll fit, don’t you worry. Come along now, quickly... the Death Eaters might be coming right this second...”
Chetry, Snape and Dumbledore were all out of the car to greet the Dursleys. Chetry was grinning at them as they approached. Snape was wearing the completely opposite expression. Dumbledore smiled and shook hands politely.
“Nice to see you,” he said, pleasantly. The Dursleys said nothing. Dudley dripped a large dollop of shaving foam onto the head of a garden gnome nearby, but that was about it. “Now then,” said Dumbledore. “Everybody get in, and we’ll be off in a jiffy...”
‘Get in’ didn’t turn out to be quite so simple. Uncle Vernon had to sit in the passenger seat, with Aunt Petunia on his lap. In the back, they managed to fit Snape, Harry, Professor Chetry and Mr Weasley. Dumbledore was the only one with any room at all. Everybody was already squashed enough as it was, even with Dumbledore’s stretching charms on the car, but when they all looked out and saw Dudley was still to get in, they realised there was a major problem.
“You’ll all have to breathe in,” said Dumbledore. “Come on, that’s it... move up a bit Severus, there’s some room there...”
Everybody groaned and felt their ribs straining as Dudley squeezed into the car. After trying to slam the door four times and failing, they finally managed it. Harry could hardly breathe, squished between Snape and Mr Weasley.
“Well now,” said Dumbledore pleasantly. “Are we all comfy?”
Nobody answered, not trusting their mouths to come out with something they could say to such a respected wizard as Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore put his foot down, and the car struggled away from the path, wobbling as it tried to start on the road. Harry could feel the tension in the back seat straining to free itself, and sure enough, they had only gone a few metres when the doors gave way. Snape and Dudley were both ejected sideways and dumped onto the road. Mr Weasley, Professor Chetry and Harry all sighed at the relief to their rib cages. Dumbledore turned around and chuckled lightly. “Dear me,” he said. “Perhaps magic has its limits after all... well, this won’t do at all.” He stopped the car, and everybody got out. “We’re going to have to do some rearranging I think... the boot is big enough for one, I’m sure, but after that I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
"I am not going in the boot," said Snape, sternly, clearly sensing what was coming. "You have made me into a lot of things over the years, Albus, you have made me a fool many, many times but by Merlin I shall not get into that boot."
A few minutes later, Snape was lying in the boot, along with a rather reluctant Mr Weasley. Dudley was in the front seat, and squashed in the back was Aunt Petunia sitting on Uncle Vernon’s lap, and Harry perched on Professor Chetry awkwardly. His head was pressed uncomfortably against the ceiling, but at least he could breathe. It looked like a convention of yoga artists in the back seat.
Dumbledore was once again the only person with any proper leg room. “Now... is everybody comfortable? Are you alright back there, Severus?”
There was a lot of dark muttering from the trunk. Everybody tried not to smile too much.
“Then off we go,” said Dumbledore pleasantly, pushing a muggle tape into the cassette player, and pushing his foot on the accelerator. Most unfortunately for everybody in the car, during all the shuffling around, the gear stick had been jammed into third. They all lurched forward with a universal groan as the car kangaroo-hopped its way down Privet Drive, and Dumbledore chuckled quite delightedly. “Dear me!” he shouted over the noise of ‘Agadoo’ playing from the radio. “There seems to be a problem with the car!”
Harry nearly hit Dudley in the back of the head with his nose, but stopped just in time, and held onto the back of Dumbledore’s head-rest for support. Dudley was staring at Dumbledore as though he was utterly mad.
“Maybe you should change the gear,” he said, as with another lurch, the front window was splattered in shaving cream.
“Oh, of course!” said Dumbledore. “Thankyou, young man.” He reached down, and yanked it back into second gear.
Everybody screamed as the bright purple car shot forward like a bullet, zooming down the street with incredible speed. Dumbledore’s hands flew off the steering wheel and it spun right the way around, sending the car jerking and spinning out of control. There was another scream as they went crashing straight through a fence at the end of Privet Drive and out onto a large playing field, sending children shrieking for cover as the mad purple mini went tearing away across the grass, churning mud and splattering the back window as it went.
“USE THE BRAKES!!!” Uncle Vernon was bellowing, but Dumbledore was still having trouble with the steering wheel, trying to stop the car spinning and whirling as it went tearing down the hill. Harry could see his life flashing before his eyes - even more when he looked ahead, and saw a huge park lake surging towards them, getting closer and closer.
“LOOK OUT FOR THE LAKE!!!” he yelled, but it was too late.
The car hit the bank at an estimated speed of forty miles per hour, the engine shrieking nearly as loud as the passengers. Any muggles who happened to be watching their windows would have been mildly surprised to see a bright purple car (complete with large plastic hippy flower on the roof and Agadoo blazing through the windows) launch into the air and sail gracefully down towards the lake. Everybody was screaming, pounding at the windows, the musical disaster that was Black Lace blaring in their ears before Dumbledore yanked the steering wheel hard and the car turned just in time, missing the black waters by inches, soaring elegantly up into the sky like a large purple owl.
Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "This is turning out to be quite an adventure after all," he said, delightedly.
Everybody sat in stunned silence, all pale, all with identical looks of blind horror on their faces. From the back came the sound of Snape expelling his lunch, and Mr Weasley’s wail of indignation.