A/N: POA is a great movie, but it'd be even better...IF I MESSED IT UP!

Harry was under the covers, playing with his wand. You know, you'd think he would be in trouble for this. Aw, well. Back to this, he was playing with his wand under the covers. No, not that wand, his actual wand.

"LUMOS AHGARASGASHAS!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs.

"What the bloody bloodyness is going on here?!" Uncle Vernon screamed, appearing at the door. He looked over and gasped. Harry had several knives and screwdrivers stabbed into him, pinning him on the ceiling and dripping blood on the carpet.

"MUMMMMYY!" He yelled, running out of the room. When he was gone and the door was shut, Harry pulled every sharp thing out of his abdomen, causing him to fall onto the bed.

"Works every time," he said, unlodging a cutlery knife out of his now visible rib. He started to sway on his feet and his vision doubled. "I-I don't feel very good." And slumped onto his bed.

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It was a morning on Privet Drive. I think. Anyways, "The Sweet Escape" started to play as some fat English chick rang the door bell.

"POTTER, GET THE BLOODY BLOOD DOOR!" Aunt Petunia screamed. Harry scratched his head, and sighed, grabbing the door handle when a enormous woman suspiciously shaped like a balloon walked in and an equally fat dog.

"Oooooooh, my Duddles Wuddles Fuddles Cuddles and woo-woo-woo!" she exclaimed, kissing his heavily dandruffed head several times as he consumed a basic can of lard. Harry scratched his head, wondering how the fat boy was still alive based on the fact he had several heart attacks and strokes every day.

He went up to Uncle Vernon. "Dude, sign this."

"If you don't blow up your Aunt, then maybe," he muttered, taking her coat. She turned and sneered, looking like Malfoy for, like, two seconds. I swear, that kid must do like, that one scene instead of her.

"Yoooooou'reeee still here, are you?" she asked, as if this enormous woman was better than Harry. Even though he's killed a Basilisk and faced Voldemort twice, escaping and saving Ginny once, and also became a Seeker at 11 years old for a Quidditch team, and the best thing she'd ever done is figure out how to eat 50 chicken wings without using her hands.

"Like, no duh," Harry said with a flourish of jazz hands.

"Don't say yes in that ungrateful way, you little...ingrate," she said, confused.

"I didn't say-"

"Eat some of this, dearie," she cooed to the rabies-infested dog who was growling and slobbering. Harry rolled his eyes as he took more of the crap that was on the table that strangely enough, he didn't get to eat.

"THIS IS DELICIOUS! GET ME SOME ALCOHOL!" she demanded, slamming her fists down. Harry rolled his eyes, forgetting to pour the poison in the brandy as he planned. He poured the big balloon, I mean hot air balloon, a glass of brandy that she downed instantly.

"So your Mum's nothing but a homewrecking tart and you're Dad's gay?" she asked drunkenly, chuckling. Harry's eyes turned red(remind you of anyone?) and smashed the bottle of brandy on her head. She didn't react, for her hair had kept her head perfectly safe, but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and that tub of lard stared at him horrified.

"GRRRRR!" the broken brandy glass pieces shouted at him before picking themselves up and walking out.

"Sorry, my head is quite hard," she chuckled, licking brandy off the table when she blew up, like suddenly. Aunt Marge pieces were picked off of Harry's chest and he ran upstairs.

"NRAAAHHH!" He screamed, kicking his nightstand, sending the picture of people who looked nothing like his mum and dad get sent flying across the room. He then got angered at that and started packing magically and crap. He flew down the steps so hard contracted several diseases of the immune system.

"YOU BRING HER BACK!" Uncle Vernon screamed with his face looking like a really fat cherry.

"First of all, old man, does personal space mean anything to you?" he asked, pushing his head back with a finger. "And second of all, NRAAAHHH!" He shoved his wand into his eye.

"OOOOOW, MUUUMMMY!" he screamed, falling on the ground. Harry laughed so hard that at least a quarter of the diseases he had spilled out, along with his lung. Swallowing his lung, he ran out, with The Human Lard AKA Dudley was eating the remains of Aunt Marge.

So then, The-Boy-Without-A-Plan took off down the street, big ol' suitcase in hand as he took off towards the sunset. I mean, moon. Until he got frustrated and was distracted by the creepy park off in the distance...

A/N: This is what I'd like to call me "mini-story', with short chapters of POA posted every day to two days.