NOTHING IS OWNED

Does You-Know-Who Look...

Chapter 2: Car Problems

It was not long after the climatic Battle of Hogwarts that Harry Potter, personal Hit-wizard of the Minister of Magic, was summoned back to the castle of his youth. This time, he was not there to learn the ways of wizards, nor was he there to do battle against the villainous Death Eaters. No, he was there for a far more interesting reason.

"So, let me get this straight, Mr. Weasley. When a student was wandering around the Forbidden Forest, past curfew I might add, they were attacked by a, and I'm quoting him here, a "bloody great blue beast with great big ruddy silver teeth." Upon further investigation, it was discovered that it was your now-feral flying car. Am I right so far?"

"Yes, Harry. That's right." Arthur Weasley said.

"And when you tried to approach it, it shied away, right?"

"Quite suddenly, as well. I was quite surprised when it growled at me."

"So after you took a Calming Draught, you decided to get me involved why?"

"I thought that someone with your, ah, unique talents of persuasion might help. I mean, you did talk the Whomping Willow into standing still to be fitted for a swing set."

"True, true." Harry considered the job for a moment, then sighed and adjusted his tailored black suit. "Alright, I'll give it a shot."

The clearing wasn't far from the Acromantula nest, so the wizards stationed nearby to watch over the car were understandably on edge. Their eyes darted ever which way, seeing shadows with far too may legs everywhere. The only light was that coming from their wands and from the car's beaten up headlights.

When Harry arrived, they almost didn't notice the presence of the Wizarding World's Saviour because of how focused they were.

The first thing Harry noticed was the car, of course. It had been years since he had seen it, but he recognized it instantly. The turquoise paint had accumulated multiple scratches from several years of driving through the underbrush, the right wing mirror was missing, all the windows were broken, and the grill had been stained with a combination of mud, twigs, and what appeared to be the still twitching severed limb of an Acromantula.

Despite the obvious differences, it was clearly a 1965 Ford Angela 105E, and judging from the fact it was growling at anything close to it, it was defiantly Mr. Weasley's car.

Sighing to himself, Harry illuminated his wand and began to approach the feral automobile. He stopped about five feet away when it began to growl louder.

"Oh, don't give me that shit, ya bloody blue outdated piece of clam crap." Harry snapped. The car was suddenly quiet, though it's headlights seemed to have narrowed.

"Now, I know you can hear me, and I know that your gonna listen." Harry said, his voice promising severe pain if he wasn't occupying the car's complete attention.

"There's a fine gentleman outside the woods who worked very hard on you, and he's very unhappy right now. He asked me to come and have a word with you, so that's what I'm going to do." he said as he took another step forward. The car watched his every move.

"Now, I want you to listen to me very closely, cause I don't feel like repeating myself. If you do not leave the Forest right now and return to your creator groveling and begging for forgiveness, I am definitely going to fuck you up." Harry said calmly, as if stating a fact, while taking another step forward.

"First, I am going to drag you to the middle of London and bewitch ever pigeon and owl in the city to come and crap all over you. And it won't be normal crap either. Every single bloody bird will be does with a special laxative that will build up an explosive charge of bird shit that will cover you completely. Then, I will drag you all the way across the pond to America, where I will leave you on the set of a show called Pimp My Ride. I know that there is an adaptation of the show here in England, but I don't give a shit. I will kidnap you to America specifically because you pissed me off."

Harry was now three feet from the car.

"Then, when you are over there, in America, on the set of Pimp My Ride, I will leave you there for about, oh, lets say three weeks. And when I come back after those three weeks, you will look like the car version of a 3 dollar prostitute after a solid forty-eight hour shift on the busiest street corner in London."

The car gave the impression of having a nervous expression on it's face, which is quite impressive since it didn't actually have a face. Harry had now reached the two foot mark.

"And if that's not enough to make the message sink in, I'm gonna go even further. Have you heard of the movie Christine?"

The car's chassis seemed to shiver.

"Ah, so you have. Good, that'll save me some time. If you haven't gotten the message through your thick engine block by that point, I'm gonna either purchase a bulldozer or Conjure one, then I'm gonna run you over with it so many times you'll look like a blue, hooker-fied pancake with engine oil as syrup and bird shit bombs as chocolate chips."

As Harry took another step, the car began to back up.

"Then, I'm gonna put you back together slowly and painfully, with the least effective version of the Reparo spell in existence. And after that, if for some fucking reason, you are not cooperative, I will take you to the closest farm and attach a hitch to your fat, turquoise ass, and you will spend the rest of your days hauling pig shit and hay bales around the middle of absolutely fucking nowhere. I don't care if your chassis is not structurally sound enough to support a full cart of hay and shit, it will happen regardless."

The car was attempting to hide behind a fallen tree with minimal results. Harry was now directly in front of it, staring through the beaten-up headlights right into it's soul.

"So, all this can happen, or you can drive out of the Forest right now and prostrate yourself before Mr. Weasley. Cause I can assure you, whatever he will do to you is far better than what I will do if you don't go now.

Mr. Weasley was astounded to see Harry walking out of the Forbidden Forest as if it was Hyde Park with his car silently trundling along behind him.

"However did you do it?! I thought that I would never see it again!" he asked incredulously as he ran forward to examine the vehicle.

"Oh it wasn't that hard." Harry said, casually buffing his nails on his jacket while shooting the car a side glance that, if it was physically possible, would have made the car blanch. An idea came to hi mind.

"Tell me, Mr. Weasley, what are the exact enchantments you put on this car?"

AN:

Props to Anyone who knows What this was Inspired by.

Thank You.