What if Harry Potter had been written by someone else?

As an homage to fingolfin’s monster of a thread, and the fact that I could not compete in *What if the LoTR’s had been written by someone else? * catagory ( having not read the books nor a nth of the wit of the posters who did), I thought I would start one on Harry Potter, as the hype is growing with the wait of #5.
**Dave Barry **

Harry and Ron crept through the darkened halls in their ( and I’m not making this up!) Invisiblity cloak, which, I must add, must cover all of North Dakota when not being used for trespassing at Hogwart’s. All I know is if I were a kid and had a cool item like that, I would be checking out the girl’s shower room after Quidditch Practice, which is why guys like me never get a shot at invisibility cloaks.

Nice timing!

I was going to do this one for LotR, but someone beat me to it.

Irvine Welsh

The sweat wuzh lashin oafay Ron – he’d bin nearly two days wi’out his Bertie Bott’s EveryHigh Beans® an he were greetin like a bairn.

He were getting on ma puff so ah asked ma mate Neville ter sort im out, like – y’know, get im ter shut the fck up, but Neville ad just taken all the ChocolateHeroin Frogs fer imself, the selfish twat, so he was smacked outay is eyeballs an no use to no c**. Barry fer im, like, but ah wuz in nay mood ter listen ter Ron much more as mah scar wuz rubbin raw an ah could feel the effect of mah ‘Pure Colombian High’ spell wearin off. Ah needed a hit, an f*ckin’ nay mistake.

“Hey, Harry ya radge git”, Ron called out ter me, “ah’ve goat ter go an see McGonagal – the Mother Superior, like. Ah’m f*ckin’ suffrin’ here.”

McGonagal wuzh our housemistress, but she were also a dealer. We called her Mother Superior, no because she were religious or any shite like that, but on account oaf the length oaf her habit.

Ferris GMTA !

Judging by context, that looks like a compliment of sorts, but I’ve not seen that acronym before - what does it mean?

Great Minds Think Alike :slight_smile:

However, with my thread killing skill, I have a forbiding sense of doom that this thread will sink like a rock.

They flew, on their brooms. At night.

“oMg, HaRrY!11!! I aM aN exChanGe sTuDenT frOm AmErIca!!11”, said Mary Sue.

“oMg, MaRy sUe, u R the mosT beAutifullest guRRl evah!11!!! MaRry me!!”, said Harry.

“oMg, oF cOarSe I WilL!!!”, squealed Mary Sue.

oMg, iF u Lik thIs StorY, sEnd feEdbaCk, k??? mY eMaiL adDy iz: potTeRsGurRl@hotmail.com

William Carlos Williams

This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the Bertie Botts
every flavour

you were probably
for Hagrid

Forgive me
it was repulsive
and tasted
like ear wax

I’m not talented enough to top this. However, I will gladly read what the rest of you come up with. Very good, thusfar.

Having been a thirteen-year-old fanfic writer not so long ago, I take offence.

The following is my attempt at Jack Kerouac:

The nights were cool. That would be the summer everything changed; Harry would have said so, but he couldn’t sleep at night. They’d saved him in the flying car; Ron was the perfect guy in a situation like that, and they came one night to get him, but I won’t bore you with it. The journey was long, and there ain’t nothin’ in Otterly St Catchpole, but, well, they were gonna get there. Harry sat listening to them all talking on the way, and the owls hooted and apart from the engine the night was still, and he didn’t talk, because of the strangeness of it. He knew somewhere along the line there’d be girls, visions, everything, somewhere along the line it’d be handed to him, and he was glad.

The Koshi Rikdo Version.

(Lord Voldemort’s Insipirational Overloard March Theme Song*
Ba-Ba-Ba-Bam! Ba-Ba Ba-Baaaaaam!

Harry: “Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiil Voldemort!”

Ron: “aaail…” [weakly, blood drippng down the corner of his mouth]

Harry: “Oh Lord Illpalazzo, who is super-cool and a really great guy, how will we take over the world from the ignorant masses who really need a good spanking at you hands and should be bowing before the greatness of your awesome Kagato-rip off costume so please please let Harry go out and conquer the city in the name of the ideals of the ideological organization known as ACROSS!”

Lord Voldemort: Yanks Cord

Harry: “Ahhhh! Harry is falling!”

Also starring a very large, bearded Nabeshin, Albus Dumbledore as Mr. Kabapu, and some very, very, disturbing sexual implications. Sirius Black returns with Colin Creevy to fight THAT MAN

Come to think of it, lets NOT go there. Although it would be really funny to see Excel and the gang run around Hogwarts.

**Samuel Beckett. **


King’s Cross Station. Platform nine and three quarters. Evening.

HARRY: Well, shall we go?
RON: To where?
HARRY: To Hogwarts.
RON: We can’t.
HARRY: (despairingly) Why not?
RON: We’re waiting for publication.
HARRY: (pauses) Are you sure it was here?
RON: What?
HARRY: That we were supposed to wait?
RON: She said Summer 2001.
HARRY: Oh yes.
RON: She could be late.
HARRY: I see.
RON: What are you insinuating? That we are in the wrong place?
HARRY: Listen?
RON: What’s that?
HARRY: No. I hear nothing.
RON: Me neither.
HARRY: I thought it was her. I could have sworn I heard the counting of money.
RON: Nothing to be done.

**Dear Abby **

Dear Abby
I am a 15 year old boy who attends an exclusive prep school.

For years I have had a problem with hearing voices, speaking in a language few understand, giant spiders, a socio-path that has tried unsuccessfully to kill me four times, rougue bludgers, being stalked by a freaky house elf and a certain Professor here that hates my guts. I was raised by my aunt and uncle who loathe my very existence and did not let me do anything that their precious, perfect son was allowed to do. I am doing pretty well in my classes despite the fact that every year I have been here I am out late at night and spending most of my free time solving mysteries and saving the school and humankind from the destructive forces of evil. I also break the school rules every chance I can, along with my two best friends.

My problem is this, while I am the youngest player on my house team, I still cannot score with the girls. What do you suggest?


“Larry Cotter”

Dear Larry,

First you need to get a restraining order against the man trying to kill you and the house elf that won’t leave you alone. You are a victim once, young man, after that, you are just volunteering.

Secondly, I sense that you are breaking the rules to get back at the probably strict environment which you were raised in order to bring attention to yourself. The way to do this, Larry, is through positive behavior, which you are already doing by being the youngest person on your team and getting good grades. That is the mark of success, not by running around with hoodlums at all hours.

Thirdly, solving mysteries and saving humankind from the destructive forces of evil is a job much too big for a 15 year old boy. No boy your age should carry such burdens alone. Is there not a teacher, minister, rabbi or counselor that you can talk too and let them delegate the problems to someone older and more experienced?

Lastly, if you are speaking in tongues and hearing voices, you seriously need medical help. I strongly recommend a therapist and urge you to seek it immediately.

Knuckle down or life will end up hitting you with a wet noodle all the rest of your days.

Good idea.

I was kidding, of course. I am sure your fanfic was much more sophisticated.

Scarily, I’m not so sure. :slight_smile:

Jane Austen’s Hermione:

“Oh Professor McGonagal, I feel you are the only one to whom I can turn for advice. I have just today received two proposals of marriage…from Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley!”

William Gibson:

The ceiling of the great hall was the color of a mirror of Erised, tuned to a dead channel.

Harry shouldered his way into the hall, trying to tune out the static whine of his Mitsubishi nervous system accelerator. The accelerator was a small gray disk inserted in the back of his skull - it made him vibrate when not moving but gave him the relfexes needed to catch the snitch as if it were standing still. Hermionie was sitting at the Griffyndor table with three books laid out in front of her. Her unnaturally perfect brown eyes bounced between them as if they were a single text. Harry caught a glint of gold around her iris, and in his own fast-forward state was able to clearly make out ther Zeiss-Ikon logo. Ron sat next to her adjusting the servos on his new right arm with a tiny screwdriver and his worn carbon fiber wand.

These are awesome! I’ve never tried anthing like this before, so mine will likely suck, but I’m going to give this a shot:

Dean Koontz:

Harry and Ron sat huddled among the firelight as the flames licked the corners of their minds. Hagrid’s hut had become alien, with menace looming over the two boys like a great dark holocaust shroud preparing to sacrifice their souls to the deep bowls of eternity. The rug at Harry’s feet had transformed into a snarled paddock of binding straw, sucking the very essence of being from his tortured existence. He knew this feeling well, it was much like dying; the deep fields of gossamer beads and pitch black oil seeping through the soil. His tousled hair was a great weight on his head, clouding his vision and blurring his thoughts.

"Where's Fang?"

The boarhound was watching them from afar, with a look of exasperation that seemed to indicate an almost human intelligence.  In fact, Hermione had experimented with genetic engineering charms, and Fang was the first success among a multitude of failures...

Dear Strong Bad-

I’ve neverusde one ofthese muggle machinesbefore, butIneed help. Iamawi zard in training and my older brotherskeep picking on me.How do I stop them?

-Ron Weasley

(Whoa! What this guy’s deal? Um…)

Dear Squirrely-

Dude! You’re a frickin’ wizard. Just say “hocus kadabara” or something and summon Trodgor to do some burninating. Sheesh. I wish I had your problems.

(Shot of Strong Mad holding Strong Bad upside down. Strong Bad is holding a wand and wearing a wizard’s hat.
“Dude I didn’t lose that chick’s number. She would have had to given you the number first.”
Holy crapum!
Strong Mad turns into a giant the Cheat.
“All right, let’s have some fun!”)

(Shot of Homestar running in the field. The giant the Cheat steps in front of him. Homestar runs into it.
“Oh sorry the Cheat. My, have you eaten your Wheatsies?”
The giant the Cheat jumps on top of Homestar.)

(Shot of Strong Sad in his room. Strong Bad comes in.
“Hey, Strong Sad. Double deucem!
“Yeah. So you’re flipping me off. I’ve seen that before.”
"Hmm, maybe I’m doing it wrong. Double deucem! Double deucem!" Oh screw it. Um, float…eum.
“I’m sad that I’m flying.”)

So there you have it Wombaty. Until next time, learn to fricken’ type.