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Kinda Like A Visit To Fantasy Island – But Not Rea

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Summary: Vernon decided that he, Petunia, Dudley and Marge are much more deserving of a vacation package which Harry received, than he is.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Non-BtVS/AtS StoriesGreywizardFR1511,6344273,5045 Sep 135 Sep 13Yes
Title: Kinda Like A Visit To Fantasy Island – But Not Really

Disclaimer: They all belong to JKR and her minions. Yeah, it sucks but I've learned to live with it.

Category: Harry Potter Non-Buffy non-crossover.

Time Frame: Starts a few days after Harry returns home to the Dursleys after Book Three, 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' and then goes seriously AU.

Spoilers: None intended, but if you don't know what happened up to this point, why are you reading this story?

Character Bashing: Not a whole lot, but – okay, these idiots deserve it! Happy now?

Feedback: Of course! Of course! Like Tenhawk says, it's the coin of the realm!

Archiving: Talk to me first, please.

Author's Note 1: Many thanks to Bill Haden and Theo (Starway_Man) for beta-ing this story.

Author's Note 2: As usual, "word" indicates speech, :: word :: indicates mental communication and { word } indicates a character's thoughts.

Author's Note 3: This was inspired by idea #24, when I was re-reading rorscharchblot's '101 Things I'd Like To See In a Fic' list, and my muse insisted I write this right away.

~/~/~

Dursley residence
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging

June 21, 1994

"Eh, what's this, boy?" Vernon growled as he sorted through the mail.

"Here, are you having your freak friends send letters to you at our home now?" he accused his nephew, as the obese and unpleasant man angrily waved a large parchment envelope at Harry.

"Uh, no. I mean, the only thing I was expecting was something from one of the people who was supposed to help start training me, Uncle Vernon," Harry relied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Training for what, you freak?" Vernon demanded irately.

"Uh, the wizard who murdered my parents is going to show up one day, probably fairly soon, to try to kill me, too," Harry replied offhandedly, "so Sirius Black and some other people who don't want to see him take over the Wizarding World, they're trying to help me learn to fight back against him. He's tried to kill me twice already since I started attending Hogwarts, so everyone who knows about him, thinks that he won't wait too much longer to try again."

The very casualness of his nephew's response about someone repeatedly trying to kill him surprised Vernon, and so the man paused for a moment before tearing up the envelope, as he'd originally intended to do, and opened it up to read. As he glanced at the letter inside, Dursley smirked to himself at what he'd just learned.

"Huh," the exceedingly obese buffoon snorted. "According to this letter, the place where you're supposed to start training is on some remote Caribbean island, where there isn't even a single living soul around to bother you.

"And this Moody character who's apparently set all this up says that he's provided supplies there sufficient for a half-dozen people for a year, even though you'll actually only be gone for a week," Vernon frowned as he read that part of Harry's letter.

"How's something unnatural like that even possible, boy?" Dursley demanded, the scowl on his face making him resemble a walrus even more than he normally did.

"Well, the Ministry does have magical devices that allow people to manipulate time, so that someone can be in two or more completely different places at the same time," Harry described the concept of using a time turner, which he'd only recently gone through with Hermione, when they'd rescued Sirius from the dementors.

"I'm guessing that, in this case, they'll just speed things up so that you can experience a whole year in just a week," Potter added by way of explanation, giving another shrug to indicate his lack of certain knowledge.

"And... uh, the letter's charmed to take anyone touching it to the island, when you speak the activation phrase that's written at the very bottom," Harry noted, peeking around his uncle's elbow and reading that part of the text.

"Spending a year on a Caribbean island and only using up a week in real time, eh?" Vernon mused to himself, thinking he could manage a week off work.

"That sounds like exactly the sort of thing that decent, hardworking people like us deserve for having to put up with your freakishness, boy," the corpulent hog announced after a moment's consideration. "So, I think I'll be keeping this letter for your aunt, myself, Dudders and Marge to use – instead of you. And that's my last word on the subject."

"Well, I really don't think that you should do something like that, Uncle Vernon," Harry shook his head, as though in resignation, "but I'm certainly not going to be the one to stop you."

"Yes, you're right about that much," Vernon sneered as he walked away,

"And I don't want to hear any backchat about it, either – you understand me, boy?" Dursley declared, raising his hand as if to threaten Harry if he complained. Which he didn't, simply shrugging again and walking away.

"Pet, I've got some excellent news for you," Vernon said as he walked away, chuckling to himself with satisfaction.

"And we need to call Marge, too…"

~/~/~

Dursley residence
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging

June 22, 1994


"All right, boy, we're off. All I've got to say to you is, make sure that you've got all those chores on the list I gave you done by the time we return," Petunia said as she placed her hand on the edge of the letter addressed to Harry – in between Vernon's oversize paw and Dudley's only slightly smaller appendage. Marge managed to wedge her own hand on the other side of the letter, even as she struggled to maintain her awkward grip on Ripper's cage

"Yes, Aunt Petunia, I understand," Harry nodded his head as he watched from the other side of the living room.

"I hope you all enjoy your trip as much as I would have," Harry smirked to himself, after the quartet epitomizing the stereotype of the 'Ugly Tourist' – plus one vicious canine which should have been put down years before – all vanished once the 'training' portkey Sirius' friend and one-time training supervisor, 'Mad-Eye' Moody, had sent him activated with the code phrase.

"But somehow, I kinda doubt you will," the young wizard offhandedly noted as he strolled over to the phone, picked it up and dialed a number. Idly humming the tune of Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' to himself, Harry waited for the call to be picked up.

"Oh, hi, Hermione," Harry smiled upon hearing her voice at the other end of the line, as memories flashed through his mind of Hermione's pressing herself tight against his back as the two of them rode Buckbeak through the night to rescue Sirius. "How're you doing?"

"I'm fine, Harry," the brilliant brunette's smile could practically be felt through the phone, Harry decided as he listened to his best friend's greeting. "Are you calling to say good-bye before you leave on your training trip, then?"

"No, actually, I ended up not being able to go for the training that Auror Moody set up for me," Potter told her in response to her question.

"Y'see, Uncle Vernon commandeered the portkey so that he, Aunt Petunia, Dudders and Aunt Marge could use it, instead. Seems like he thought the idea of being on remote Caribbean island without a single other living soul to bother them was something they all deserved," he informed her, as a smile lifted the corners of Harry's mouth.

"WHAT?! Is your uncle insane?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"No, he just didn't bother asking me for any details about what *kind* of training Moody had set up for me," Harry said casually, his shrug unseen by his best friend on the other end of the phone.

"And you didn't see fit to tell him that Moody was sending you on a time-compressed year-long zombie apocalypse™ hunt, so that you wouldn't have to worry about destroying living human beings while you learned how to cast extremely destructive spells?" Hermione asked skeptically.

Actually, Moody have at first wanted to kidnap some Death Eaters for Harry to use as target practice, but they didn’t think that would be realistic enough if they couldn’t fight back.

"No, because Uncle Vernon has never wanted to listen to anything I've had to say all my life before this," Harry pointed out in a reasonable voice, "so why would I think this time would be any different?

"And, anyway, when I started to say something about it, he very specifically told me he didn't want to hear any backchat from me," Harry informed Hermione, "so I shut up about it, like he told me to do.

"I don't think your aunt's family is going to be very happy with you when they get back, Harry," Hermione predicted, although Harry would swear he could almost hear her grinning across the phone line.

"Maybe not. But when, or rather *if* Vernon, Petunia, Marge and Dudders ever come back, then they'll have a much better idea of what my life has been like for the past three years," Harry replied dryly.

"I suppose you're right about that. It's not like you were in any sort of position to do anything else," Hermione agreed thoughtfully, making him smile when he heard his best friend's support of his decision.

"Anyway, I was thinking that, since I've suddenly got a lot more free time available than I thought I was gonna have, maybe I could come by your parents' house, and we could spend some time figuring out how we could help Sirius?" Harry asked hopefully.

"That would be brilliant, Harry," Hermione immediately agreed. "How are you planning on getting here?"

"I was planning on taking the Knight Bus if you agreed to meet me," Harry replied, suddenly feeling as though a massive load had lifted from his shoulders. "Let me get cleaned up and changed, and I'll be over in about an hour, okay?"

"All right," Hermione answered, and Harry was sure he heard more enthusiasm in her voice than had been there earlier. "I'll see you in about an hour."

Exhaling with a massive sigh of relief as he contemplated the afternoon ahead, Harry headed up the stairs to get cleaned up, as he'd said he'd needed to do – absentmindedly quoting Vincent Price’s addition to the popular song, which he felt his 'beloved' relatives would quickly be discovering were, undoubtedly, *extremely* appropriate lyrics to the song he'd been humming to himself earlier.

"Grizzly ghouls from every tomb are closing in, to seal your doom…"


FIN

The End

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