Harold couldn't believe it. Last week he was lying on the couch, believing he would never amount to anything, and now he was on a train to attend a magical school for lizards!
When he first told his uncle that a half giant, half human, half fairy, came into his room (well, really his box) and told Harold he was taking him to a magical place with lots and lots of magical candy and strange men flicking their wands around, spirting out white magic, he thought Harold was crazy and beat him senseless. But eventually his uncle came around. And Harold just knew his aunt and uncle were as excited about this as he was, for they dropped him off at the train station five days before the train was set to leave.
"Yo, is this seat taken?" A deep manly voice asked. Harold looked up and saw a huge man hovering over him. He was at least six feet tall, maybe even seven, with luscious dark brown skin. He had thick, shoulder length red hair that reminded Harold of a woman, for some odd reason. He must be a teacher, thought Harold as he shook his head and made room for the man to sit down.
"Thanks, dog," the man's voice roared, "my stupid brothers, yo, wanted me to sit next to them, but, yo, they be turnin' my rat into a weird lookin ass human," he motioned to the ugly, brown rat on his shoulder, which had a human toe on its forehead. Two dark skinned midgets came running by and flicked their wands toward the rat, the man glared at them evilly.
"..Those are your brothers?" Harold asked; the man nodded.
"Yeah, I have a lot of them, yo," retorted the man, mindlessly throwing the rat onto Harold's face. Harold let out a terrified screech that seemed to go unnoticed to the large man as Harold scraped the creature off his face and onto the ground. The rat hissed at Harold and ran out to explore the train. "What 'bout you, dog?"
"Oh… I don't own a dog," Harold said plainly.
"No, homie, you got siblings? Ya know, did yo parents do the diggity-do more than diggity-once?"
Harold felt a tear spill from his left eye as he remembered his uncle telling him how his parents died. ("They were gang members in Topeka Kansas—"which seemed weird to Harold, since they lived in London"—and a mime wearing a toupee, riding a trycicle, hit them with a shovel and they never woke up.")
"No," Harold answered sadly, "unfortunately I don't."
"Yo, dog, I can dig it," he said, reaching out to shake Harold's hand. "I'm Rahn Weasel, homie, but everybody calls me Rahn-dog, dog."
"Hello… Rahn-dog," Harold said, trying to ignore the pain rushing through his hand from Rahn's grip. "I'm Harold. Harold Potter."
"Yo, yo, yo," Rahn yelped, his eyes wide in amazement. Scared that he had said something to offend Rahn, Harold curled up in a ball in fear. "Not the Harold Potter? The kid who killed V-dog with his legit thumb?"
Harold moved back toward the window as Rahn-dog spasmed in excitement. "W-who is V-dog?"
"Who is V-dog, dog? Man, he's only the dopiest of the dopes," Rhan-dog explained. "But, yo, he ain't Dumbledore dope, no this hairless homie is some bad news, yo. And you're the dog that slayed 'em! Yo, my head is spinning like a yoyo, yo!"
Harold couldn't believe it. His aunt and uncle never told him about V-dog, nor had they told him about this magic school for lizards. In fact, Hagrid, that half giant, half human, half fairy guy was the one to mention his parents and how they were lizards too.
"Yo, that means you got the scar, dog," Rahn-dog said, slapping Harold's shoulder so hard that he heard his bone crack. "Dog, you gotta disclose the damage."
Of course Harry knew what Rahn-dog was talking about. He's had that scar ever since he could remember, but no one seemed to notice it. His aunt and uncle sometimes made him cover it up with his hair, but most of the time they let him cover it up with one of his many Spice Girls stickers. His favorite was Scary Spice, which seemed weird to him since he always saw himself with an athletic type, like Sporty Spice.
With a hesitant hand, he slowly lifted his black curls up to reveal his scar. Two circles sagged beside each other on his forehead with a thick, long shaft between them.
Rahn-dog, his excitement suddenly vanishing, quickly pulls Harold's hair back down to cover his scar. "Yo, dog… I don't think you should be showing anyone that scar, homie."
"Oh, okay," Harold said, taming his wild hair down, a little disappointed that his new friend didn't like his scar. No one ever seemed to like his scar.
Suddenly, forgetting his scar, Harold let out a horrified scream as a hideous creature appeared at the doorway. He covered his eyes as if looking at the hideous thing would turn him into stone. "Rahn-dog, I think your brothers messed with your rat again!"
"DEVIL BEGONOUS," Rahn-dog shouted, pointing his wand at the creature. "RAT BACKOUS! CREATURE DIEOUS!"
But no matter how hard he tried, the rat continued to take on this hideous form.
"Adding 'ous' at the end of a word doesn't automatically make it a spell," hissed the creature. It made its way into the small room and sat down across from the boys.
Harold, noticing the creature was nowhere near being ready to leave, forced himself to look at it. It must have attacked an innocent student, for it had a jumper and a black robe around it. That poor girl, Harold thought.
"Was that your rat crawling around the corridor," it spoke again. Both Rahn and Harold were terrified. "Really, now, you need to control that thing. It's scaring the people half to death. Every time I'm near it, people run in terror, yelling 'hideous beast! Beware the hideous beast'."
Harold tried to pay attention to the creature's words, for it seemed like it was saying something important, but he was too focused on trying not to puke. The thing was hideous, whatever it was. It had the head of what looked like a walrus, only with human skin, and big, crazy hair that occupied most of her face. Her body had the shape of a lizard, so bony and slender. It gave Harold shivers down his spine.
"I'm Hermit Ghastly by the way," it spoke, reaching out a long bony hand for the boys to shake. Harold took a moment to stare at the hand before Rhan slapped it away. "So, what House do you think you'll be put in," she asked enthusiastically.
"Houses?" Harold asked, confused, looking at Rhan.
"Yo, dog, the great Harold Potter doesn't know what the school's Houses are?" Rhan said. Harold ignored the creature's gasp at the hearing of his name. "Yo, yo, I'mma 'bout to educate you, homie.
"There are four houses, dog: House Hubabubaboo, House GRAHHHHHH, House Green Mean Killin' Machines, and House SmartyMcSmartpants. Now my family, the Weasels, have been in House GRAHHHHHH, yo, for generations and generations. That's the house your homie's gonna be in, anyway," he said, high-fiving his new best friend.
Harold couldn't help but smile at Rhan-dog. He hoped he was placed in House GRAHHHHHH like Rhan-dog. "Who decides what House you'll be in," he asked, almost shamefully. He felt so embarrassed that even the hideous monster across from him knew what Houses were.
"Yo, dog, they put a giant ass lizard on your head and whatever color it turns in to, that's the House you belong in," Rhan-dog explained. "My brothers even told me it sang, homie. Yo, if it be rappin', I be tappin'." He began moving side to side, dancing to the beat inside his head.
Just then a short, little blond creature opened the doors. He mumbled something under his breath while holding out a box of thin mint cookies.
"What?" Harold said, placing his hand up to his ear.
"I'm selling cookies, for my wizard scouts," explained the little boy shyly, but loud enough to be understood. "Would you like to buy some? They're cheap."
"Yo, yo, dog," Rahn-dog said offensively, standing up, towering over the little boy. "You making fun of me because my daddy ain't got a job? And he spends his days rummaging through muggle garbage instead of feeding his kids?"
"No," said the boy weakly, "my dad just suggested that I try to sell these on the train ride to school. I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"Get out of here with that shit," Rahn-dog said, pushing the boy into the corridor and sliding the door shut. "Dog, if somebody brings up that I'm poor one more time, yo, I'm gonna shove my hand so far up their ass…"
"Who was that?" Harold asked, rubbing Rahn-dog's back to attempt to calm him.
"Dorculas Mouthful," he said darkly, "of the Mouthful family. That family is no good, homie. It's better if you stay away from them, dog."
"Right," Harold said with a stern nod. Harold thought himself lucky to have found such great lizards to help him understand this new world he was about to enter.
It was night when the train finally came to a stop and all the students left to enter this giant tire (I accidently typed tire instead of tour so I'm just gonna roll with it). It was absolutely massive and a bit shocking. Harold had imagined the school to be in some sort of ancient castle, with magic stares and talking paintings, but no, it was just a big ass tire.
He entered the tire with Rahn-dog, with that Hermit the Creature lurking close behind. Inside the tire was a great hall with millions of students each sitting at four foldable white tables. Hagrid led Harold and the rest of the first years to the end of the great hall where a lady in a tall pointy hat stood holding up a lizard.
"When I call your name," the lady spoke, she snapped her free fingers and a piece of paper stood hovering before her, "I will put this lizard on your head, he will pee on you and sort you into your house, as tradition goes, yadda yadda yadda. We good here?"
The first years nodded their heads in understanding as she read out the names of the students. Dear Lord, please put me into House GRAHHHHHH with Rahn-dog and his family, Harold thought.
Well, damn, Harold… You haven't spoken to me in years and this is what you're praying for?
Harold looked around. Nobody seemed to hear the voice he was hearing. The teacher had just assigned Hermit the Creature into House GRAHHHHHH, and the children screamed in fear as it made its way to their table. Who was that?
Your dumb ass lookin' self can't even tell that I'm the voice of God.
The voice of God? Really? You sound weird, though.
Who were you expecting? Morgan Freeman?
Well, yeah, kinda.
Everybody expects Morgan Freeman.
Well, anyway… I would really appreciate it if you could put me in House GRAHHHHHH with my friend Rahn-dog.
WHAT THE FUCK, MAN? There are children praying to get a new kidney or to get that tumor out of their head… there are people praying to get out of poverty, praying just to keep themselves alive… and you want me to put you the House your little friend is in?
"Harold Poller," announced the lady with the lizard. "Is there a Harold Poller here? Harold Poller?" She looked at the list again. "Ah, shit I mean Harold Potter. Harold Potter."
The children behind him began to whisper his name as he made his way up to the lizard. He turned to see that the staff table were also whispering his name.
"Shut your shit, dearies," said the lady calmly as she placed the lizard on Harold's head.
The lizard did the traditional peeing before pondering over which house this boy should be placed.
"Letsssssss Seeeeeeee," it spoke on top of Harold's head. "You're too ssssstupid for House SssssmartyMcsssssmartpantssss. And you a lil bitch, ssssso that rulesssss out Houssssse Hubabubaboo."
Oh God, help me now!
Fuck off, Harold.
"Please," Harold begged to the lizard, "please put me in House GRAHHHHHH!"
"Housssssse GRAHHHHHH, you sssssay? What about Housssssse Green Mean Killin Massschinesssss? That's a nicccee house."
"Please, House GRAHHHHHH," he whispered. "House GRAHHHHHH!"
"Okay, Housssssssssssssssssseeeeeeee," the entire room froze as they waited for the lizard to choose Harold's fate, "GRAHHHHHH it issss then."
The entire House GRAHHHHHH table cheered as Harold let out a breath of relief as he made his way to his table.
As he sat down he was greeted by some nerd who claimed to be Rahn-dog's older brother. Percy, he said his name was. Harold could just tell he wasn't going to like this ginger freak. We're going to have problems when it comes down to trusting what Dumbledore has to say and what the Lizard government has to say, he thought. Hashtag trust Dumbledore. Always.
As Rahn-dog, a newly selected member of House GAHHHHHH, made his way over to sit next to his new best friend, Harold felt an uncomfortable presence. He turned to the staff table. An old man, with a long silver beard and twinkling eyes, had been staring at him. He wore a lavishly blue dress that dipped low enough in the front to reveal his old man chest hairs. Harold could tell by how much shoulder the dress revealed that his back was free from any fabric, as well. The dress sparkled a certain silver—the same color as his beautiful beard—as the old man moved. His perfectly manicured hand moved to take hold of his wine glass and, with a nod in Harold's direction, took a long sip.
"That there is Dumbledore," Rahn-dog explained, noticing who Harold was looking at, "the greatest Lizard of all time."
"I hear that he dated a certain Grindelwald, but broke up with him because he wouldn't go down on him," Hermit contributed.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, HERMIT THE CREATURE," Rahn-dog said calmly. "NO ONE TOLD YOU TO BE A LITTLE BITCH, YO!"
Hermit the Creature ran away quickly, crying into her hair.
"That wasn't very nice," Harold said to Rahn, as he watched Hermit the Creature cry away. He turned back to the staff table. "Who's the lady with the lizard?"
"That's professor Mcgonagone, yo" Rahn-dog told him. "Homie, I hear she is the coolest teach there is, ya here."
"And what about the pale, greasy, mysterious guy who keeps looking at my eyes?"
"That's Snape, dog. He treats everybody but the Mean Green Killin' Machine House like shit, yo," Rahn-dog explained. "He used to be cool, until some dude stole his girl. Now he harasses anyone in his presence, dog."
"I'd hate to be the kid who looks like the guy who stole his girl, am I right," he jokingly said to his friend. They shared a laugh as Dumbldore rose from his chair.
"Welcome, young lizards, to the school of lizardry and bitchcraft," Dumbledore began. The hall went quiet. "Firstly, this is a message mostly for the first years, the forbidden forest is completely free for any student to enter. Of course, if you do, you will die a very exciting death. So I recommend it.
"Then there's the matter of the Defense against the Dark Arts professor. Those of you who are aware, the Dark Arts are no laughing matter. It involves S&M, BDSM, and all the very dangerous things that are involved in the art of loving. As most of you are aware, ever since I denied V-dog a job here at this lovely school, all of the professors teaching the Dark Arts have died. So I would like to introduce our new Dark Arts professor…. Snape." The students all looked around confused as the Mean Green Killin' machines cheered. Snape stood up and took a delightful bow. "Haha, just kidding," Dumbledore said as he used magic to push Snape back into his chair. "Could you imagine? Snape as your Dark Arts teacher? Wait, like, six years, then maybe I'll do it. Anyway, Quirrell, stand up. This will be your new Dark Arts teacher… I look forward to your funeral, Qurrell.
"Anyway, eat up." He clapped his hands together and a bowl of tomato soup and some crackers appeared in front of each student. He sat back down and everyone began their meal.
After everyone finished their soup, everyone got a pudding cup. Then Dumbledore ordered the house elves to clear the table. The students had to fold their tables and stack their chairs in order to make room for sleeping. Each House got its own section of the tire. House GRAHHHHHH was on the far right. Harold and Rahn-dog found a nice place to put their sleeping bags beside each other.
"So, we're actually sleeping in the inside of a giant tire," Harold observed as he and the rest of the school we're dozing off.
"Yeah, winter's a bitch," Dumbledore called out from somewhere in the crowd of sleeping bags.