Harry Potter The Pink Horcrux.

[Contrabardus]

I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. This is an idea that I simply think is too good to pass up. It's been slowly taking form for a bit, and there's not a whole lot of it yet. This isn't a new project of mine, just an unreleased one, and it's been slowly trickling into shape for a while now. Anyway...



It was a cool autumn evening in England. There was no snow on the ground, and the sun had gone down only a few hours before. The colorful leaves that covered the ground from the fall covered the ground, but were only a slightly damp grayish brown under the moonlight. A terrible and familiar scene played out as it had before. Lily and James Potter lay dead, the man outside his home, and the woman was crumpled on the floor in front of a small bassinet where a small child lay crying. The child wiggled about in his blanket, young Harry Potter had no idea what was going on, but he was afraid. The tall pale figure stood over him with an evil glare in his eyes. Lord Voldemort's wand was pointed at the boy, a few of his followers in masks and dark cloaks around him. He spoke his curse and flicked his wand at the baby boy. A flash of green light filled the home and several screams sounded. It was not what the dark wizard was expecting to happen.

Lord Voldemort stumbled backwards with his arms waving. He tripped and stumbled over his followers bodies. The curse had backfired and killed them instantly. He was stunned and thrown back by the force of his own curse. He was unable to stop his momentum, but managed to keep his feet as he staggered backwards out the still open door of the home. It was hanging from the hinges and he continued to fumble backwards, partially blinded and disoriented from the unexpected backfire. His arms flailed again wildly as he found himself on the top of the hill the home sat upon. A rock struck his heel and he tumbled head over heels and down the incline, bouncing and thrashing violently on his way down to the bottom. Finally, he found himself at the bottom of the hill and crumpled up in a heap to nurse his wounds. The evil wizard staggered to his feet and looked down. His eyes went wide as he realized that he could see runes glowing at his feet. One of the spells protecting the home had not been disarmed and he looked up and screamed in horror. Twelve flying attack porcupines launched themselves rear first at him and he turned away to try and escape just in time to have the first of them land quills first on his rear. Two others struck his back and he was thrown forward, right over the edge of an even steeper and more stone covered hill that dropped another thirty yards away from the home.

After a long and painful tumble, taking several stones in his ribs, face, back, and rear he found himself flat on his face. His back was covered in quills and he pushed himself with his hands. He gasped for breath, wounded and in a lot of pain. Despite this, he found himself turning his head as he managed to get himself upright on his knees. A bright light filled his vision from two headlights and a loud horn sounded as a small delivery truck bored down on him. He put up his hands in horror just before the grill slammed into his body. He was thrown twenty feet away and sailed over the railing on the small winding road he'd landed on. It was a fifteen foot drop right into a large stream that was about eight feet deep. He hit the icy water with a huge splash and a moment later a pale hand with poorly kept nails reached up from the water, grasped at the air, and went still as it sank back below the surface.

Back in the home the child was still crying. There was a sharp pain on his forehead, and despite the warmth his blanket offered, there was a chill in the air that left him even more uncomfortable. On his forehead was a scar that was still red and bleeding a little. A small scar shaped not like a lightning bolt, but rather like a big cat seated on its rear with it's head held high in pride. If there had been anyone in the room at the time, they would have sworn up and down that a smooth jazz beat began playing at that very moment...


THE PINK HORCRUX.

Part 1

OooOOooOO

Ten Years Later...

In every direction the eye could see were rolling green hills and dirt roads. The hills were not covered in grasses, but vines. It was a bright sunny day and birds could be heard singing in the air as a warm breeze flowed through the countryside. A young boy with a wide grin on his face was pedaling along one of the roads. A plastic milk crate was strapped onto the back of the bike with a few glass bottles clinking as he bounced lightly over the dirt surface with a wide grin on his face. He was a bright and cheerful boy, a bit lanky with messy black hair that poked about outside the white plastic helmet that protected his head. He turned into one of the homes along the road and looked about. It was late morning and his last stop of the day. He noticed an extending ladder was propped up against the roof of the home and regarded it for a moment. The boy gripped the sides of the milk crate and lifted it, turning towards the house. He failed to remove the bungee chords holding it in place and the entire bike was lifted up and spun around, striking the latch on the ladder and then ending up with its rear end stuck in the well trimmed bushes that surrounded the outer wall of the home.

The boy paused and looked at the situation, his arms were struggling to keep holding the bike and he fumbled backwards and tugged a few times. The rear tire was caught on one of the thicker branches and his tugs became a bit more violent in nature. Finally, the bike broke free, but the boy didn't notice the garden hose that had become caught in the spokes. He regarded the bike as it was finally level and let it go. He quickly had to reach out and pull it up again before he lost his cargo of milk and heavy cream as he'd forgotten to prop it up with the kickstand. Finally, he managed to get the bike stable and stepped back while wiping one of his hands on the front of his shirt. This time he took care to remove the bungee chords and released the last on in his hand while it was still stretched tight. It whipped around the underside of the bike and the hook nailed him in the forehead. He staggered for a moment and shook his head. “Ouch.”

“Ah! Good Morning, Harry!” A friendly looking older man poked his head out of the kitchen window off to the right. He was speaking French and knew him well. “Did you remember to add an extra cream to my order?”

The boy took off his helmet, revealing a small pink scar shaped like a feline just below his hairline. “Yes, sir! Good morning to you as well.”

“Good! Good!” The man was pleased. “Well, I'll see you next week then.”

Harry nodded and grinned. He turned towards the ladder. “You have a leak in your roof?”

The man was about to back into his home again and looked over at where the ladder was. “Yes. I have Mr. LeFarge working on it for me. It's been a pain, but we've not had much rain lately so I ignored it. Made an awful mess when we got those showers a few days ago, so I broke down and called him to repair it.”

The boy nodded and mounted his bike. “Well, I hope it goes well. I'll see you next week!”

The man nodded and went back into his home. He sipped on a cup of coffee and picked up a half eaten crape from his plate. “He's a good lad.”

Harry started pedaling away, but stopped with a jerk just at the end of the walkway. There was a wrenching sound from the side of the home he didn't notice and he looked back to regard the hose nozzle that was caught in his spokes. He hopped off his bike and reached for it. The bike promptly fell onto it's side and the hose went a little tighter. It was enough that the boy struggled to tug on it a few times to get enough slack to remove it from the wheel. Each tug pulled a small pipe a little further out of the side of the home. He finally got it free and looked at it for a moment. With a small shrug, he hooked it over the edge of the white picket fence around the border of the property and stood up his bike before riding away.

A moment later, Mr. LeFarge noticed the tiny figure riding away along the dirt road away from the home. He was about thirty and was starting to bald a little. His frame was average and he was a few inches taller than most of the other men he knew. He was standing on the edge of the roof with a hammer in his hand as he wiped the sweat away from his face with the sleeve of his shirt. He needed a few more tiles for the roof and stepped onto the telescoping ladder. It slid down with a violent jerk and he screamed in alarm as it jerked back away from the home. With a large thump he landed back first in the yard with the ladder on top of him. “Ouch. What the hell?” He muttered after a moment of sitting in pain after the impact. He'd managed to keep from getting the wind knocked out of him, but his back was killing him. He sat up and pushed the ladder away. “I know I set that latch...” He looked over as he realized there was an odd shaking sound coming from nearby. The faucet for the hose was sticking out about three feet further than normal and was shaking violently up and down. “Eh?” The end of the faucet flew off the end of the pipe and nailed him right in the forehead. The man was laid out once again and hit the ground hard. He opened his eyes just in time to see the hammer that had once been in his hand come down from the air right between his eyes.

The owner of the home walked out and dropped his cup of coffee on his porch with wide eyes. His yard was ruined, the contractor was lying on his back being sprayed with water from the broken pipe on the side of his home. “What the? LeFarge! You idiot! What have you done to my home?”

The man on his back had bloodshot eyes as he glared at the sky. “Clouseau!” he muttered angrily to himself.

OooOOooOO

Harry propped his bike next to a small and comfortable looking villa a short distance away. There was a small vineyard surrounding the home, and a few cows grazing in a pen behind the home. The boy didn't seem to notice the animals move away towards the other side of the pen as they noticed him arrive giving small nervous moos. There was a small barn and the place had a rustic charm to it. “Momma! Papa! I'm back!”

A handsome man with the slight tightness of plastic surgery on his face opened the door and greeted him. “Ah. Welcome back, Son. You made your deliveries?”

The cheerful boy nodded and smiled. “Yes, Papa. I've finished for the day.”

An attractive older woman walked out of the kitchen and smiled at the pair. “Very good, come along now. Lunch is ready.” She had a regal air about her, and looked a little out of place in an apron. She had set out a few sandwiches, cheeses, and a bit of wine for all of them on the table. The food looked a little rough. She wasn't an excellent cook, and had a tendency to over or under cook things a little. Still, her meals were edible and good enough for both of the males.

“Great!” cried the boy as he rushed into the kitchen. The man gave a good natured chuckle as he watched this and the woman seemed a little flustered at his enthusiasm.

She gave a small sigh as she walked up and hugged him. “I worried a little at first when we were asked to take him in. He's a wonderful boy though. So much like his 'father'.” She put a little emphasis on the title. “I admit I almost left when you insisted we take him, but you were right, Jacques. It's been good for both of us I think.” She looked a little sympathetic. “It is a shame about your cousins, but I think he's very well adjusted. I couldn't imagine the home without him anymore.”

“I didn't know them well, but I couldn't just leave family to be an orphan. I only met James a few times when I was a boy. We got along well, but never kept in contact.” The man nodded and looked a bit proud. “He says he wants to join the Police when he grows up, just like his 'Papa'.”

The woman slapped him on his chest. “You shouldn't fill his head with those stories so much.”

The man chuckled at that. “Yes. He won't sleep if I don't. He's a good lad. I believe he has a bright future ahead of him.”

With that, the pair went into the kitchen to join the boy for lunch.

OooOOooOO

After the meal, the family sat around the table. They were all full and satisfied with the lazy afternoon. The chores were done for the day, and they had little more to do then enjoy the relaxation of country life.

The man looked towards the boy as he stood up and started to leave. “I think I'll go into my room for a bit.” He seemed pleased and lazy and was likely to end up napping after a bit of reading in bed.

“Harry, just a moment. I have something for you.” His Papa patted down his pockets and pulled out a small sealed letter. “This came for you.”

“For me?” the boy looked confused.

His Mamma cocked her head. “I don't recall receiving anything by post for almost a week now.”

The man looked at her and nodded. “Yes. A bird gave it to me.”

She looked a little amused. “A little bird gave it to you?”

He shook his head as he handed over the letter. “No. It was a very large bird. An owl as I recall.” He seemed a bit more serious than usual.

“A bird?” Harry was a little confused. “That's very strange.”

Jacques nodded as he regarded the boy flipping the letter over in his hands a few times. “Yes. I believe it has to do with your parents.”

The dark haired boy gave a surprised gasp as he looked at it. “My...parents?”

His Papa nodded. “Yes. I believe it has to do with your schooling. I recall that your parents took care of arrangements for that. I'd have you attend here, but I think we should respect their wishes. I am to understand it's a very exclusive school in Scotland. I think you'll do well. Have you been practicing your English?”

The boy grinned and nodded. “Yes, Papa. I'm fluent thanks to you.”

The man seemed pleased. “Ah, very good. Well, I'll leave you to your letter. Let us know if you'll be needing anything. I'm to understand travel has already been arranged for you. It's not until fall, so you've got plenty of time I'm sure.” He ruffled the boy's hair.

Harry took his letter into his room and opened it. He cocked his head and looked a little confused. “Hogwarts? A strange name for a school. Still, Papa says it's a very good school.” With an education from an exclusive school he'd have no problem joining the police when he was older. He'd make Inspector in no time at all.

OooOOooOO

TBC...

That's all I currently have written. It's a work in progress and all, but I'm not sure the joke will carry beyond the first book or so. I'll see how it goes from here. I do think this Harry going through the Triwizard Tournament would be good for a laugh. I've got a few ideas I'm kicking around for this one, and it's been slowly coming along and I'm pleased with it so far.

 

[ThreadWeaver]

Uhhhhhh... Poor Harry has the curse of the Pink Panther???

Oh My.

I'm surprised anyone not dealing with home insulation still remembers him.