Author's Note: I always swore I would never write a Harry Potter fanfiction, but here I am, writing one. How hypocritical is that? Anyways, this is intended to be funny. There is no slash in this fanfiction. Read on…!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or

Dirty Laundry

By turtlegirl42


It was that time again.

Time to go to the Laundromat.

The Dursleys didn't have a basement, nor a washer or dryer, so bi-weekly they would take all their dirty laundry to the Laundromat.

In the summer, of course, they would make Harry do it. Who wanted to waste time doing laundry in the summertime? Not the Dursleys. They preferred to spend their summers spoiling their son, Dudley, and making Harry do all the housework.

Vernon Dursley grinned, shoving a huge laundry hamper into Harry's arms. "You get yourself to the Laundromat promptly, boy," he sneered, giving Harry some money for the washers and dryers.

"Of course, Uncle Vernon," Harry said, stumbling over the sheer weight of the hamper, but with a huge grin on his face.

"That boy," Vernon said, watching Harry trip out the door. "He's ill in the head, he is."

What Harry knew, and Uncle Vernon didn't, of course, was that wizards used this Laundromat.

Harry remembered the first time he had realized this…


It was another long, hot, and boring day at the Laundromat. Harry was aware that all the Muggles in the Laundromat were staring at him. He had just finished loading an industrial-sized washer with the Dursley's laundry when he heard, "Heya, Harry!" and turned around to see Hagrid looming over him.

When Hagrid was finished giving Harry a bone-crushing hug, he said, "Watcha doin' here, Harry?"

Harry replied, "I'm doing the Dursley's laundry. Actually, I was just about to ask you what you're doing in a Muggle Laundromat."

Hagrid raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" He leaned in next to Harry and whispered, "Well, this jus' isn't a Muggle laundro'mat. It's a Wizardin' laundro'mat too! If yeh ask the lady at the counter, she'll do yer laundry the Wizardin' way. Fo' a price, o'course."

Harry looked where Hagrid was pointing. It was the 'Lost and Found' counter. Harry laughed. "So that's why there's such a long line."

Hagrid smiled. "Well, the Wizardin' laundro'mat in London closed, so that's why the line's so long. Some explosion over there, or somtin' like that."

Harry pointed to the washers and dryers. "You could just do your laundry the Muggle way. It would be a lot faster than waiting in line."

Hagrid shook his head. "Ah, Harry, I wouldn't know where to start. 'Sides, I don't have any Muggle money, and I doubt those Muggle machines take Sickles. Thanks for pointing that out though."

So Harry and Hagrid sat, waiting for their laundry at the Laundromat…


Harry smiled as he thought about Hagrid at the Laundromat. All the Muggles had been staring at him and he hadn't even noticed.

Harry knew that if the Wizarding Laundromat in London was still closed, there was a good chance he would meet someone from Hogwarts there again.

Harry was right, of course. The person Harry saw waiting there when he walked in the Laundromat was none other than Severus Snape. Snape was wearing a bomber jacket and stressed jeans. Harry had to suppress his laughter. At least he knew how to dress like a Muggle.

Snape sneered and narrowed his pitch-black eyes at Harry. "And just what do you think you're doing here, Potter?" he asked menacingly.

"Washing the Dursley's laundry, Professor," Harry said, feeding the washer some Muggle coins. Harry turned around to look at Snape.

"What about you, Professor? What are you doing here, sir?"

Snape pursed his lips in disgust. "Someone 'accidentally' bleached all my robes orange, and no matter what spell I try, I cannot change them back to black. Hopefully, the drycleaners can fix this…problem. If not, then Professor McGonnagall is getting me a new set of robes." With that, Professor Snape promptly moved to the other end of the Laundromat. He left in a huff a few minutes later—clutching his still orange robes.


Nearly an hour later, Harry had just finished placing the Dursley's laundry in the dryer and was waiting for it to dry when Remus Lupin walked in, looking as weary as ever.

Lupin walked over to Harry. "Fancy meeting you here, Harry!" he said. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Harry said. When he explained that he was doing the Dursley's laundry, Lupin snorted. "Why can't they do their own laundry?" he asked, shaking his head. He looked at Harry and asked, "Would you mind helping me?" He looked quizzically at the Muggle money in his palm.

"Sure," Harry said. "You're using the Muggle washers and dryers, right?" Lupin nodded.

"Okay, then," he said. "These are called euros," he stated, pointing to the Muggle bills. "The Muggle washers and dryers only take coins, so you have to put the bills through there," he said, walking over to the change machine. Lupin watched, fascinated, as the change machine ate his bills and spat out change. "Oh, and you'll need this," Harry added, handing Lupin the Dursley's laundry detergent.

"Thanks for the help, Harry," Lupin said, relieved. "I'm not that good with cleaning spells," he added, slightly embarrassed.

"That's alright," he replied. "Muggles are very confusing unless you live with them."

Lupin chuckled. "I suppose so," he agreed.


Harry gave the laundry to Uncle Vernon, ignoring his exclamation of "Where's the bloody laundry detergent?!?" and went up the stairs to his room. Unfortunately, Dudley was waiting for him at the top of the stairwell.

"How was your trip to the Laundromat?" he asked snidely, throwing a punch at Harry.

Harry grinned. "I had a GREAT time. You should really come with me next time I go to the Laundromat," he said, dodging Dudley and slipping past him into his room, smirking as he slammed the door in Dudley's face.

--End--


Well, that's it. I hope it turned out all right. Actually, I'm thinking of possibly expanding this to include other characters from other fandoms. Let me know what you think of that, and don't forget to review! Thanks for reading.