Chapter Text
WB logo: *is accompanied by a barely audible Hedwig's Theme*
Bellatrix: *bursts into song*
Nothing's gonna harm you
Not while I'm around
I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK!
Harry: I HAVE A GIANT EYEBALL. FEAR IT, FOR IT COMMANDS YOU TO back the fuck up, seriously, what the hell are you doing this close to me. Personal space? Anyone heard of it?
Cameras: *flash*
Harry: I'm traumatized and blind. What fun!
Fudge: Yep. Most of the last book/film was entirely pointless.
Voldemort: NYAAAAAAAAH!
Fudge: …OKAY THEN.
Dumbledore: Huh, maybe I should've just given you a portkey so you could avoid the press and try and come to terms with Sirius's death for a little bit, but why do that when I can just drag you through the Ministry for everyone to see and wonder what happened?
Harry: I don't think I like you very much.
Dumbledore: It probably isn't a very good idea for me to put my arm around you like this considering the recent revelation about my sexuality and the unfortunately persistent belief that all queer people are out to hurt kids, but considering that I've been ignoring you all year and you've just lost one of your vast number of easily replaceable father figures, I figured that I'd offer you this small semblance of comfort.
Harry: I'd appreciate it more if I wasn't numb to pretty much everything, I think.
Audience: WHY IS THE WIZARDING PRESS DRESSED LIKE A BUNCH OF MUGGLES.
Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna: …Where the fuck are we? We were, like, right across the room, what gives?
Title card: *is barely noticeable and I had to watch it repeatedly to see if there even was one, it was so forgettable*
Filmmakers: BE AMAZED AT THE MAGIC AND WHIMSY THAT IS SOME RANDOM SKYSCRAPER SOMEWHERE.
Book readers: Ooooh, are we gonna see Scrimgeour talking to the Prime Minister?
Random business people dudes: 'Ello, 'ello! We're a bunch of random Muggles at some meeting thing staring incredulously at something happening outside! Hey, wouldn't it be absolutely spectacular if a bunch of evil magical people flew in with their black smoke of death and started massacring us at their leisure? Start this movie off with a bang and give everyone the excitement they've been waiting an extra eight months for right from the start? HA! You all seem to be under the impression that the filmmakers actually give a shit about what you want! Instead of the action that you've come to expect, they've instead gone with a romantic comedy angle! You know, clichéd plot devices and situations that could be found in almost EVERY OTHER MOVIE EVER MADE EVER. I'm sure if you really wanted to see this kind of crap, you'd've just read some novel-length thing where all the characters fuck a lot and maybe some kind of saving the world crap happens in the background. Or you could have this movie, where it's over two hours of slow-moving, poorly acted, bland scene after bland scene that is almost unbearably painful to watch in which practically nothing gets accomplished in terms of plot and we're all left wondering how the fuck they're gonna save this in the final two films. And now to never be seen by anyone ever again. YAY! WE WERE TOTALLY INEFFECTUAL!
~…And all they were looking at was a bunch of dark gray clouds barely moving. THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING.~
Rifftrax: I, I see a ducky, and I see a bunny, and…and I see a manifestation of pure evil, and, and I see a kitty.
Dark Mark: Vomiting up clouds of black smoke that contain people is totally how Apparition works, we swear.
Three Death Eaters: Hopefully the Muggles can't see us as we streak through the sky leaving very visible jets of black smoke behind us…Actually, who gives a shit, we don't care about the Ministry's laws anyway, and it's not like they're doing all that much to stop us. *go through a section of London that I'd go and describe and make fun of if I'd ever been there in my life. But I haven't, so I'll just move on to say that the camera slammed into the door of the Leaky Cauldron, which seems to have heavily changed its design from the first Lego game during the split second I paused it at, only to smash right through a brick wall — Merlin's disfigured cat, Diagon Alley looks flat and gray and lifeless, hopefully the rest of the film'll be a bit more cheerful-looking — and then they smash into Ollivander's wand shop and miraculously take no damage considering they just went through a brick wall and several panes of glass. That'd normally fuck people up*
Wizards and goblins: …Well this is fucked up. RUN AWAAAAY! *run awaaaay*
Random Death Eater that I'm going to call Rookwood: …What're you lookin' at.
Book readers: HOLY FUCKING SHIT FENRIR GREYBACK. I think I just pissed fear.
Movie watchers: Why, what's so special about him?
Book readers: Huh boy.
Ollivander: This is gonna suck. A lot.
Greyback: Apparently I also possess the ability to use the Black Smoke of Evil despite not being officially a Death Eater or having the Dark Mark. Eh, this is all technically noncanon anyway, why not make more shit up? *turns into smoke and flies off—I-I mean Disapparates with the other two dudes he was with. Yeah*
~It's really cloudy, sure, but with all the dementors loose I was expecting Silent Hill levels of fog everywhere.~
Random pedestrian: Hey, this is 1996, the bridge wasn't finished till 2000 and wasn't opened to the public till 2002, what gives?
Dolohov: Okay, folks, make sure not to kill any of the defenseless Muggles that we all want to see exterminated from our world!
Rodolphus: …Why? I thought we were supposed to be terrorizing people and setting the tone for the rest of the series that we're the villains who kill people we consider beneath us for fun.
Rabastan: What, we can't watch as hundreds of bodies fall hopelessly to the river below? Are they going for a PG rating or something?
Dolohov: …
~Upcoming content warning for assuming that that one actress has an eating disorder, 'cause she was worryingly thin.~
TRAINS!: *exist*
CONDIMENTS!: *also exist*
DAILY PROPHET!: *also also exists*
Book readers: …And suddenly the Wizarding photographs don't move anymore. The actual fuck.
Harry: What the hell am I doing? I can't read!
Daily Prophet: Hey look, we got a new minister!
Harry: Sweet.
Daily Prophet: You won't be seeing him till the next movie, though!
Harry: Poop.
Radio news report thing: Apparently people actually did die during the bridge incident, since police are evidently searching for survivors. You'd think that the film would've given a visual aid such as bodies actually falling, but what do we know.
Random waitress: It's hard to concentrate on not eating when I'm working in a fucking diner. Then again, it is British food…
Harry: I could be kidnapped, tortured, and/or killed at almost any time, so I think I'll just wander aimlessly to different train stations instead of staying under the protection of my aunt's house.
Malfoys: Our lives are no longer all that totally awesome.
Daily Prophet: Death Eaters: How They Challenge Security Measures. "They fucking kill every guard in sight and Disapparate before anything can be done to stop them. Is what this article probably says. We forget, and we'll never know again, giving that our normal font is practically impossible to read anyway."
Random waitress: That is one weird-ass crossword puzzle you got there. It's like the designers went out of their way to make it seem different from Muggle newspapers except not at all. Also who the fuck's Harry Potter?
Harry: *puts paper down* Uh…no one? Bit of a fuck-up considering he spent his childhood locked in a closet and people keep dying around him and he has no idea how to talk to women…Though he did suffer a nasty-ish breakup a few months ago…
Random waitress: That's nice for him. So is this some special school paper some of your mates put together or some tabloid I've never heard of or what? 'Cause I could've sworn I saw a picture of you a couple nights ago. Which is what ShieldEcho always thought I'd said, but what I actually said was that I saw a picture move.
Harry: Oh really?
Random waitress chick: Yeah really. And they had absolutely no idea that I then said "Thought I was going around the twist." Which I think I am anyway, since the pictures should be moving, I don't know what they're playing at.
Harry: …Another train just went by.
Random waitress: …Yes. They do that. *starts to walk away—Jesus Christ, EAT A CHEESEBURGER!*
Harry: Hey, I was wondering if—
Random waitress: Eleven.
Harry: …Huh?
Random waitress: That's when I…get off. Know what I mean, know what I mean, nudge, nudge, say no more?
Harry: Actually, I was gonna ask you if you ever eat anything at all, ever.
Random waitress: Very, very little. Dudes like chicks who aren't fat.
Harry: …Dudes also generally like living chicks.
Random waitress: I am trying to ask you out here! Assuming that you are that Harry Potter asshat?
Harry: I am indeed, good madam.
Random waitress: Well there you go! *smiles and walks off*
Harry: Oh, I am so gonna score! *checks breath* Damn, still smells like booze. And…apparently I carry around breath mints. Yeah, that…that sounds in character…What the hell is going on? *squints and gets up, staring at something out the opposite window*
Rifftrax: Hello, I'm an extra! And my work is done here, thank you!
Harry: The lights are flickering over there! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZINGLY BREATHTAKINGLY SUPER MEGA FOXY AWESOME HOT.
Dumbledore: I seem to be barely visible.
Harry: *wipes window* …Well that wasn't effective at all.
TRAIN!: Ha ha, you can't see the old guy through me!
Harry: You have windows.
TRAIN!: STOP BRINGING ME DOWN! *runs off crying*
Dumbledore: I am now corporeal.
Harry: HOW DOES THIS GUY KEEP FOLLOWING ME. QUIT STALKING ME, YOU BASTARD!
~…Did none of the Muggles notice the dude with the long beard and the funny hat, wearing a dress he's only changed once for Christmas two films ago?~
Harry: Oh great. You're still here. Perfect.
Dumbledore: I like looking at the pretty pictures.
Harry: …Okay—
Dumbledore: Think I should get some?
Harry: …Perfume?
Dumbledore: Yes.
Harry: …It's your money, do whatever you want.
Dumbledore: Excellent. Now then, you've been rather reckless this summer, Harry.
Movie watchers: Hey, as long as we can avoid the Dursleys, that's good enough for us.
Book readers: Aww, but Dumbledore tells them off for all the years of child abuse they've caused! And still insists that Harry should return there next summer and never sends the proper authorities after them or makes them suffer the consequences of their actions in any way!
Movie watchers: Ah, so it was pointless anyway.
Book readers: …He did talk sternly to them with obvious disappointment.
Movie watchers: Disappointment only works against people who were trying to impress you or cared about you to begin with.
Book readers: …He bashed wine glasses against their heads over and over!
Movie watchers: Now that we can get behind, especially once the glass smashed and blood and brain matter started flying everywhere, now that's a proper punishment—
Book readers: N-No, the glasses remained intact, actually.
Movie watchers: …Yeah, we're gonna stick with the movies, thanks.
Harry: Back to me being reckless: it could be argued that I actually am showing signs of grieving by recklessly going to all these different train stations without a care who sees me with a decidedly Wizarding newspaper, though the pictures don't move anymore anyway so I guess it wouldn't make any difference, and without any sort of protection because I don't really care what happens to me anymore. Though I can't really understand why the Order's suddenly stopped caring about me, since my protection has always been your number one priority in the past. Don't get me wrong, I love not having someone constantly stalking me anymore, but this complete one-eighty is a tad confusing. It's almost as though the threat of Voldemort will barely be felt at all over the length of the film.
Dumbledore: Huh. Imagine that.
Harry: Your hand looks vaguely blackened. Not so much dead, and easily forgotten about unless specifically brought up again.
Dumbledore: Yes, indeed. The tale is thrilling, if I do say so myself. Not that you'll ever hear more than the barest of details about it, but it is fun to tease you about it as if I'd actually tell you anything ever.
Harry: Still a bit of a dick I see.
Dumbledore: Take my arm, Harry.
Harry: Erm, sorry, sir, but I just don't see you that way—
Dumbledore: Trust me.
Harry: Yeah, see, that trust has kind of been shaken rather a lot recently—
Dumbledore: Do as I say.
Harry: But there's this nameless girl that'll never be brought up again, and I really don't want her to get the wrong idea—
Dumbledore: Do you want to move the plot along or not?
Harry: …Sigh, fine. *takes Dumbledore's arm*
What follows: *is a rather hilariously disgusting sequence of images if you bother to pause repeatedly*
Audience: Oh sure, now they introduce Side-Along Apparition. That really would've come in handy in, say, the Quadball World Cup, getting Harry away from the Dursleys in Book Five since JKR probably hadn't come up with the Trace yet, getting Harry to the Ministry the first time around, this is such a freaking ass-pull!
Harry: …Did we just Apparate?
Dumbledore: Yep!
Harry: Thought we'd be flying around wrapped in white light or something.
Dumbledore: What? That's stupid! You're stupid!
Harry: That's nice, I'm gonna go back to trying not to blow chunks.
Dumbledore: You've taken this in stride.
Harry: …Pretty drunk.
Dumbledore: Okay. *walks off*
Harry: Oi, at least let me get my bearings first, asshole!
Dumbledore: Nah.
Harry: AAARRRGH! *runs after him*
Dumbledore: Welcome to some random village that I'm pretty sure doesn't actually exist. Anyway, I'm assuming that you must be wondering why I brought you here.
Harry: I am, definitely, but I know you're not going to tell me anything so I've basically given up on asking you about anything ever again.
Dumbledore: Hogwarts has taught you well…what the hell?
DOOR!: I appear to be smashed in.
WINDOWS: And we are cracked. MENACINGLY!
Dumbledore: Wands out, Harry.
Harry: I only have one, sir. Also I can't use magic outside of Hogwarts, even in emergencies.
Dumbledore: Pfft, the Ministry's barely doing anything this year, do whatever you want.
Harry: …Oh. Okay! Sweet!
Dumbledore: *lights his wand and leads the way in* This does not bode well.
SCRATCHES ON THE WALL!: *exist*
Dumbledore: Horace? *creeps forward*
Harry: Hey, I have my wand lit and there aren't any lipstick-covered envelopes flying in to ruin my life! I am going to enjoy this summer! Oh right, the destroyed house where we're hoping to not run into a dead body. Should probably focus on that.
Dumbledore: Hoooooooraaaace?
Harry: That is a cabinet…And that is a picture of me looking morose and dead inside after Paddy-cakes died. Maybe I should emote…Naaaah.
DROPS OF BLOOD!: *exist*
Harry: That's weird. *looks up* Huh, the blood drips lead me to believe that the rather small hole in the ceiling wouldn't actually be directly above me. Also why did the blood only start dripping when I looked at it, even if this was a rush job there should've been more blood on the paper by now—OH SHIT I GOT SOME ON MY FACE EW EW EW GET IT OFF GET IT OFF.
Dumbledore: Oh stop being such a pansy. *wipes it off with his finger and immediately sticks it in his mouth*
ShieldEcho: *eyeroll* Okay, even without knowing Dumbledore was gay I would've interpreted that to be homoerotic.
Dumbledore: The taste of this blood immediately confirms what I've suspected all along. THE ARMCHAIR DID IT!
Harry: …Are you quite sure you're all right, sir!
Dumbledore: It's obvious, isn't it? It's the only object in this room not beaten all to hell! Therefore, it is the one responsible.
Harry: …
Dumbledore: I'M GONNA POKE IT.
Harry: Okay, okay, just calm down—
Dumbledore: I'M GONNA POKE IT! *pokes it*
Slughorn: Mind the crotch, moron! *slowly starts to morph back*
Dumbledore: …I poked you in the chest.
Slughorn: Armchair anatomy is very different and very precise, Albus! I expected better of you!
Book readers: I like his mustache. Oh wait, he doesn't have one. Way to fail at the character descriptions. Again. Gah, why must you people always get everything wrong? We didn't wait an additional eight fucking months just to watch you people fail right from the start! 'S like fucking Film Three all over again!
Dumbledore: He does make a good armchair, though, you have to admit that.
Book readers: Don't give us that, it was the set designers and the CG people and you know it.
Slughorn: No, it was apparently wandless transfiguration, and since I am a rather talented wizard that is actually feasible in canon. And anyway, I come by the stuffing naturally.
Book readers: YOU'RE NOT THAT FAT. WE DEMAND A FAT DUDE PLAY THIS DOUCHEBAG.
Slughorn: So I forgot to put the Dark Mark up, didn't I?
Dumbledore: Of course not. You should've known that whoever investigated would immediately put a strange and foreign substance in their mouth. Dragon's blood tastes like goblin piss.
Slughorn: Have lots of experiences with that, do you, Albus?
Dumbledore: *glare*
Slughorn: Just trying to diffuse the tension. Oh hi random famous small child person!
Dumbledore: Oh, right, you're still here…and look completely unaffected by the strange man who used to be an armchair.
Harry: Eh, I've seen people turn into things all the time. Granted, they were usually living things, like animals and junk, but all in all I think I might be starting to get used to magical things constantly happening around me at long last.
Dumbledore: Excellent! Now then, I'd like you to meet someone who should be a lot shorter than I am, Horace Slughorn.
Slughorn: My hand's still an arm rest, hang on a sec…There we go, all better.
Dumbledore: Horace? You know who this is, right? Not gone senile yet?
Slughorn: Looked in a fucking mirror recently? Of course I know he's Harry Potter! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to close this door and lock it the Muggle way, because as a pureblood that is also slightly bigoted against Muggles I'd obviously want to do things their way whenever possible.
Dumbledore: So what's up with the sideshow, anyway? Were you really that desperate to avoid teaching again?
Slughorn: Of course not! It's not like Death Eaters have constantly been trying to recruit me or anything!
Dumbledore: I never said they were.
Slughorn: …Fuckhead. Still, do you have any idea what it's like, constantly being on the run, fleeing for your very life, never able to stay in one place more than a week?
Harry: My godfather did! He had to live in caves, eating nothing but rats! Me, I'll soon be stuck in a tent with a personality-manipulating Horcrux eating nothing but mushrooms!
Slughorn: It's been so difficult to find nice, big, empty Muggle houses that I can relax in and enjoy my meager supply of crystallized pineapple. And if course it's such a hassle to continuously set up my collection of photographs over and over again. I tell you, my life so unbelievably terrible right now.
Harry: …
Book readers: …Fine, he can stay.
Dumbledore: All that's spectacular. Pardon me while I fix the house.
Slughorn: I'll just stand here and watch!
Harry: OH MY GOD THIS IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND FAR MORE FASCINATING THAN WATCHING A HUMAN PERSON MORPH INTO AN INANIMATE OBJECT AND BACK AGAIN! I WILL NEVER TIRE OF WATCHING THESE KINDS OF SITUATIONS THAT HAVE CONTINUOUSLY BECOME PART OF MY EVERYDAY LIFE FOR THE PAST FIVE YEARS! HOW DID YOU GET THE RECORDS TO FLY AROUND LIKE THAT—DID THE PIANO JUST FIX ITSELF!? HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE!? OH THE MARVELOUSNESS THAT IS MAGIC!
Crystal: Hey, can I reconnect with the chandelier yet?
Harry: HOLY FUCK IT'S MOVING ON ITS OWN HOW IS THIS HAPPENING I NO LONGER UNDERSTAND ANYTHING THIS IS SO INCREDIBLE I HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY BLOWN AWAY BY WHAT HAS JUST TAKEN PLACE.
Picture frame: *straightens itself*
Dumbledore: That was pointless and went on for far too long. I have to piss.
Slughorn: Upstairs, first door on the left.
Dumbledore: Kay thanks.
Slughorn: Don't think I don't know what you're up to, Albus!
Dumbledore: No indeed, I'm sure the concept of relieving one's bladder is one that you are very familiar with, Horace. *leaves*
Slughorn: *calling after him* Well I still ain't doing it, you old bastard! *looks at Harry* Yo.
Harry: 'Sup.
Slughorn: I'm not creepy or predatory in the slightest, please don't infer so!
Harry: …I didn't infer that at all.
Slughorn: …You look like your dad but you've got—
Harry: My mum's eyes, I know. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually starting to get sick of it. Seriously, the next person who makes that comparison, I don't care if they're dying in my arms, I'm just gonna get up and leave.
Slughorn: Yes, your mother was practically a Mary-Sue, she was so incredibly perfect. Which is quite weird to make a Muggle-born turn out like that, to be honest.
Harry: Oi, that's my mother and someone who's as good as my sister you're insulting there! The latter happens to be the best in our year, I'll have you know!
Slughorn: Oh, you mustn't think I'm prejudiced! I just show astonishment at the fact that someone of a practically nonexistent blood status is able to achieve anything of worth!
Harry: …That's like the definition of being prejudiced.
Slughorn: But she was one of my favorite students, you see, so you can't think I would ever look down on her! Look, she's right over there!
Harry: Wha…She's here!? She's alive!? Oh, Mum—Oh. A picture. How lovely. Twat.
Slughorn: Yes, it does take quite an effort to get all of these lovely photos perfectly arranged and all that every time I move to a different cozy suburban house like this.
Harry: Stop talking.
Slughorn: Yes, they're all my past conquests. Er…Ex-students, that is.
Harry: …Most of these people look exceedingly uncomfortable.
Slughorn: Huh. I never noticed that. Don't know why that would be the case…
Susie Shinner: YES! Finally, after being shamelessly cut out of the previous film, I'll finally be able to get a little screentime—
Geraldine Somerville: Credits say it's me again.
Susie Shinner: I WILL KILL EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD.
Slughorn: You recognize Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet.
Harry: Nope, but now I know who to sue. Thank you for pointing him out.
Slughorn: And there's Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies.
Harry: My future wife will probably replace her soon enough.
Book readers: Yay, namedropping of nonexistent, unimportant characters! This must mean that the Gaunts and Hepzibah will be involved and other minor characters like the professor the book's fucking named after will surely get screentime, right?
Movie makers: Pfft, who cares about little plot-related details like that? TEENAGE DRAMA, TEENAGE DRAMA.
ShieldEcho: You know, had I discovered the word “aromantic” at an earlier point in my life, it would've saved me so much grief when it came to not understanding why everyone around me was obsessed with that shit while I felt nothing but disgust and revulsion.
Slughorn: Anyway, I get free tickets whenever I want them. Of course I haven't been able to enjoy the luxury of super-expensive tickets to a professional Quadball game in some time. MY LIFE IS A DOWNWARD SPIRAL OF HELLISH SITUATIONS.
Harry: Go fuck yourself. *picks up photo of Slytherin Quadball team* …Why did I just pick up this picture of the Slytherin Quadball team? They're bloody Slytherins, aren't they?
Slughorn: Probably because you thought Regulus Black looked vaguely like his brother.
Harry: Ah, yes, that must be it.
Slughorn: I heard Sirius died a few weeks ago.
Harry: …Yes, he did.
Slughorn: Yep, killed by his cousin, I believe.
Harry: Yes, thanks, I think that's enough—
Slughorn: I taught the whole Black family except for Sirius, which rather implies that he just never took Potions instead of clearly specifying that I used to be head of Slytherin, but why actually convey things to an audience who hasn't read the books, they can just turn to the person next to them and ask, after all.
Harry: Trying to be sad here.
Slughorn: I do wish that the entire set had been in Slytherin…Wow, that would've changed so many things when you think of it. Just imagine if one person had been sorted differently. The number of ideas for AU fics based on this premise alone is absolutely staggering! And now I'm going to stare fondly at the back of your head.
Harry: …You are one creepy old bugger, you know that?
Slughorn: Now you really do sound like your mother!
Dumbledore: Horace? *comes back in* Do you mind if I take this Muggle magazine that doesn't actually belong to you and is therefore not yours to give away?
Slughorn: Er…
Harry: I'm gonna walk over to stand next to him, looking confused and out of place the whole time.
Dumbledore: I do love knitting patterns!
Book readers: HOW DID WE NOT CONNECT ANYTHING.
Slughorn: I guess…Are you leaving already?
Dumbledore: Oh no, I can see that you're doing just fine on your own and could do without the protection that Hogwarts innately offers that will be bolstered by the presents of dozens of Aurors and will also play host to many bright young people with whom you can make additional connections behind the scenes. Which sucks, but I just don't feel like arguing with you anymore. Come along, Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, POSSIBLE CHOSEN ONE, let us GTFO. Bye-bye, Horace! Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye. Bye—
Harry: Okay, that's enough, let's go get you some nice pills… *takes his arm and leads him out of the house*
Slughorn: …
Dumbledore: *outside* Three, two, one…
Slughorn: *comes running out* Fine, fine, I'll do it, you manipulative old piece of shit!
Dumbledore: Sweet.
Slughorn: But I want Professor Merrythought's old office, not the cupboard under the stairs I had before!
Harry: Yeesh. *winces in empathy*
Dumbledore: All right, Harry?
Harry: Y-Yeah, fine.
Slughorn: And I want an actual decent salary, pretend I'm not a teacher but someone who actually makes money. *goes back in*
Dumbledore: No kidding, we're gonna have to pay him using leprechaun gold. *wanders off, humming something*
Harry: *following him* I thought at one point he was about to say something that made sense.
Dumbledore: Yes, he narrowly avoided that.
Harry: I have to say, you're getting off to a much better start this film than the last three.
Dumbledore: You really think so?
Harry: Oh yes. You certainly have being annoyingly vague down to a science. Well done, sir, this is definitely a step in the right direction.
Dumbledore: Why thank you, my dear boy.
Harry: …Sir, I don't think you got what I was hinting at.
Dumbledore: Hmm?
Harry: That was an invitation for you to actually explain what the fuck is going on. For once.
Dumbledore: Sigh, fine. You are famous, semi-talented, and…powerful? Really? Dude knows like four spells. Eh, anyway, you're basically everything Horace values.
Harry: So you used me to lure him back to Hogwarts?
Dumbledore: Yep. Also he's gonna try to collect you.
Harry: …Collect me.
Dumbledore: You would be his most satisfying conquest yet.
Harry: …This whole conversation is making me exceedingly uncomfortable.
Dumbledore: That's nice, now deal with it. You are the only reason Horace is coming back to Hogwarts, and we desperately need him there.
Harry: That bankrupt for a Defense professor this year, are you?
Dumbledore: …Something like that. Anyway, sorry about ruining your chances of getting laid.
Harry: Eh, that's all right. I'll go back tomorrow, maybe ask her out to dinner to make sure she actually eats something—
Dumbledore: No you won't.
Harry: …I won't?
Dumbledore: Nope. In fact, you'll never see her again.
Harry: …O…kay?
Dumbledore: And you won't be going back to Little Whinging, either.
Harry: Okay, this I can live with. Except I left all my shit there.
Dumbledore: Nope! Moved everything magically while you were away.
Harry: …You're lucky that I viscerally hate the Dursleys and wish to be taken away from them at every opportunity, otherwise I'd probably resent you for moving my stuff to a new location without my permission.
Rifftrax: Now grab my horrible withered old claw so you can be tossed around violently and then vomit.
Harry: Fuck, I really hate this… *takes his arm again and they Disapparate*
~…Yes. The dust is settling where they disappeared from. And the set is very pretty. Um…Why are we lingering?~