OK, this is possibly the most insane fic I've ever written in my life..it's basically one HUGE inside joke with my cousin Maggie, containing only about a 100th of all the weird things we've said over the years. But you might also think it's funny because..well, it is.

The basic plot, you ask? Harry and Ron eat some enchanted garlic bread and are transported back to the night when Harry's parents died and attempt to defeat Voldemort by singing a very odd song and throwing a chicken-like creature at his face.

Wow.

So, this fic is for Margo, Maggot, Magrat, Maggie, whatever you wanna call her. She was my complete inspiration. J

Harry Potter and the Magical Cheesy Garlic Bread of Time Travel

It was another peaceful day in the sleepy little village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry, who had finally been given permission to leave the Durlseys' house to stay with the Weasleys, was particularly enjoying this fine day with his best friend Ron. They had gone down to the village shops where the Weasleys bought their food and Muggle clothing. Ron seldom took the short walk down to the shops because, as his mother said, "He is a lazy bum with nothing better to do than sit on his fat arse and complain about being poor."

Today, Ron was complaining about being poor. "It hate being poor," he said sullenly. "It's like potatoes."

Harry patted his friends shoulder sympathetically while eyeing a 200 galleon wristwatch in a shop window.

"I think I'll buy that," said Harry, and he ran into the shop, bought the watch, and added it to the already large bag of expensive useless Muggle gadgets.

Ron's face drooped a bit more. "Why so glum, chum?" said Harry cornily. Ron edged away from him slightly. "Ah, I know what you need!" said Harry. "A signed photo!"

"What is bloody wrong with you today?!" screamed Ron at Harry. "You're turning into Gilderoy Lockhart or something!"

"No, Ron, he's a starfish, remember?" Harry reminded his friend.

Ron nodded, then said, "Well, I'm hungry. Fancy a bite to eat?"

"Yeah, where can we find something?"

"Well, there's a little pizza place over there, maybe they have some snacks, like a strawberry shortcake Good Humor ice cream bar."

"Ron, we spell it humour' over here, remember? We're not Americans."

Ron edged slightly away from Harry again as they continued down the little boardwalk of shops until they reached the pizza place. They looked at the menu hungrily, not noticing that the real Gilderoy Lockhart had just strolled by singing, "Papa I knowthere's a frog on my toe"

"How about this?" said Ron, pointing to something on the menu. "Cheesy garlic bread. Sounds num-num-a-licous!"

Now it was Harry's turn to back away slowly. "Isn't garlic bread kind of a.weird snack? You think it's ok with your mum?"

"What do you mean?" said Ron.

"Well, we didn't tell her we were getting a snackI mean, will she be mad that we got garlic bread?"

"No, what's she going to say? Ron, Harry, I'll hate you forever, how dare you buy garlic bread!'"

"I guess you're right," said Harry, and they went into the shop and ordered their garlic bread.

When they sat down to wait for their order Harry said to Ron, "My aunt is a zombiefrom hell."

"Yes, that's right," said Ron, who was preoccupied with making the Parmesan cheese shaker dance with a fork.

"Pass the bloody parmy!" screamed Harry out of no where. Several people stared.

Ron chucked the large heavy shaker at Harry's head and ran away, giggling like a mad school girl.

"Ow!" yelled Harry. "Ron, you're such a moron! Ron's a cool kid, real cool kid. Ron has friends!"

"Order's ready!" said Barbara Streisand from behind the counter.

"Keep your fat nose out of our business!" yelled Harry as he snatched the box from her.

Professor McGonagall was in a corner booth by herself, Ron noticed, along with a large bottle of gin. She swayed drunkenly in her seat and hiccuped, "Marmosets! Rabid pygmy marmosets!"

While Harry was busy telling off Barbara for no real reason, Ron muttered, "The whole place has gone barking mad..I see dead people" And then he began to laugh.

Harry and Ron arrived back a Ron's house a short time later, stuffing the greasy bread into their mouths. Just as they were heading up to Ron's room to finish their snack, however, Mrs. Weasley swooped down upon them. She had apparently been upstairs, plotting a sneak attack.

She narrowed her eyes. "I smell garlic bread." She sniffed, and corrected herself. "No, cheesy garlic bread!" She finally spotted the box of bread that Ron had been trying to hide behind his back.

Mrs. Weasley exploded with rage. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, BUYING GARLIC BREAD?! I THOUGHT I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THAT, RONALD McDONALD WEASLEY! AND YOU, HARRY, I THOUGHT YOU HAD MORE SENSE!" She went on like this for several minutes, her eyes bulging to the size of Jill.

When it seemed she was finally finished, she said in a very odd voice (like she was sucking in air while speaking), "There is a cat living up my bum. Her name is Mrs. Norris. She used to live up my bum and around the corner, but she moved. She now lives in a little pink room with a purple inflatable chair and a TV with rabbit ears."

Ron stared at his mother, who had obviously gone utterly insane. Harry, however, looked like a little boy. His eyes had lit up excitedly and he asked of Mrs. Weasley, "What does she watch on TV?"

"The Stinky and Grommy show!" screamed Ron's mother giddily.

Ron, sensing there was no way to avoid the insanity, pulled out a pair of purple swishy pants with holes in the knees and said, "I'd like you to meet Penelope!"

Mrs. Weasley let out a squeal like a stuck pig, and said, "I am Bridget, the stuck pig!"

They all laughed, but then there was a sudden pop and Harry and Ron were no longer at the Weasley's house. They weren't even in Ottery St. Catchpole anymore.

They were at Harry's house.

Harry had no idea how he knew it was his house. It wasn't the Dursleys' house, no, it was nothing like that at all. It was a house that contained magic, though you couldn't see it. It emanated from within the walls like a sort ofprotection.

"Where are we?" said Ron.

Harry jumped, just realizing Ron was there. He also realized that it was the dead of night. What he did not know was that it was that certain fateful night of October 31, 1981, and some very odd things were about to happen in that house.

"I think," said Harry slowly, "that this is my house."

Ron gave Harry a frightened look.

"You're the one who asked."

A newspaper lay on the kitchen table, which happened to be next to them. Harry picked it up. It was a copy of the Daily Prophet, and the date read, "October 31, 1981".

"Scrunchinator!" exclaimed Ron. "That garlic bread sent us back in time! Was it full of carbohydrates?"

"This isn't just any time," said Harry. "This is the night my parents died, Ron. We're in their house. In my house!"

Ron's eyes bulged to the size of Jill, just like his mother's had done.

"Maybe the magical garlic bread has sent us here to stop the murder!"

Harry's heart gave an excited jump, though it didn't land very well. Actually, it landed about as well as Irina Slutskaya on her triple flip.

"Let's go upstairs," said Harry in a hushed voice. It seemed the rest of the house was asleep. They passed a room with one wall painted green and a ninja turtle border going around the edge near the ceiling. An ugly TV sat on one side, and on top rested a Nintendo system, which hadn't yet been invented. Ghost Buster toys littered the floor.

"Ooooooh." said Ron, his eyes fixed on a sea otter plush toy in the corner. "Preeeettttyyyy."

Ron made a grab for the stuffed animal, but Harry held him back.

"No, Ronniekins, no touchie."

He took Ron by the hand and led him upstairs where he snapped back into life.

Small breathing noises could be heard from one of the rooms from behind a closed door. Another room also held breathing noises, but the door was open. Harry and Ron crept inside quietly. On a bed in the room lay two people: a woman with long, dark red hair and a man who looked a great deal like Harry.

"Ew!" said Ron in a loud whisper. "It's Roon and the Giraffe!"

"It is not, you homo erotic loser!" hissed Harry. "It's my parents!"

Ron looked at Harry sympathetically for a moment, then began singing, "My name is Beronna, I'm only nine! I love to pick my fat-"

"SHUT UP YOU MORON!" roared Harry.

James Potter sat bolt upright, as if he had been waiting to do so the whole night. He fumbled for his round glasses on the nightstand, put them on, and gazed disbelievingly at Ron and Harry.

"Who is it, James dear?" Lily muttered sleepily. "If it's Voldemort tell himtell him the Moin Moin hasn't bitten anyone lately and Paula's Vaseline should" She trailed back into sleep, but James didn't notice. He just looked at Ron and Harry, completely bewildered.

Harry smiled weakly and was about to say something sappy when the sound of a door slamming from downstairs reached his ears. James now also grabbed his wand from the nightstand.

"Lily, it's him, take Harry and go!" he shouted, pushing Harry and Ron out of the way and bolting from the room as Harry could hear footsteps going up the stairs, no doubt the footsteps of Voldemort.

Lily was now awake, and she ran from the room as well. Harry could hear voices on the stairs.

"James Potter, you cannot defeat me!" said a snakelike voice, hissing and spitting as it spoke.

"Well, I swear on the soul of my Aunt Bea, I'm going to try!" Harry heard his father say, in a voice much like his own.

Voldemort laughed a horribly wicked laugh and Harry could almost hear him raise his wand to perform the killing curse.

Harry sprinted from the room and down onto the staircase landing where his father and Voldemort stood just feet apart, Voldemort's wand poised and James's blue eyes blazing.

Voldemort began to speak: "Avada Ked-" But Voldemort was cut short by Harry, who had leaped in front of his father.

"Mother?" James said.

"James?" Lily said from the top of the stairs.

"Crow Joe?" Ron said stupidly, hanging off the railing of the stairs and dancing like a child of the sheep.

"Who the hell are you?" Voldemort said, now looking at Harry.

Ron laughed gleefully. "You said a bad word! I'm un tell on you Bubba! Oh, here it comes!"

Voldemort glanced at Ron for one strange moment, then turned back to Harry. "Well? Who are you? You look just like James except you have Lily's eyes and a scar on your forehead."

Harry simply looked back with determination. "Look," he said softly, not breaking his gaze with Voldemort. "For the past 14 years of my life, you have been more annoying than the people that work at Chico's. I am ready to kill you, and you should be ready to die. You are an evil, evil thing and I will not stand for it, you big fat slug."

Voldemort looked at Harry even more strangely than he had looked at Ron. He apparently wasn't used to being spoken to like this. Harry, however was growing angrier. He shouted louder than he had ever shouted in his life, "I WILL THROW A BALL AT YOU AND IT WILL BOUNCE OUT YOUR LIVER AND I WILL MUNCH ON IT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, SO HA! OOH OHOH OOH!"

"What?" said Voldemort.

"Stop four way, Stop four way, Stop four way, stop four way" Harry chanted in a haunting melody. It repeated the words over and over again, watching a painful look on Voldemort's face taking shape.he was straining, but he couldn't take it anymore.

Voldemort just had to join in. "Stooopppp..four way! Stooooopppppp..four way! Can you feel it in the air, Stop four way, stop four way, Can you see the sign right there, stop four way, stop four waySTOP!"

The song ended and Voldemort was so close to blowing up it wasn't even funny.

But he was still alive.

Suddenly, Ron shouted from the railing, "Mwahahaha, I bestow upon you the magical powers of the chicken!"

Ron tossed a bird onto Voldemort's face that looked nothing like a chicken. It was a fat black ball of feathers with a long neck and even longer legs.

"That thing will follow you for the rest of your life, until you die!" screamed Ron maniacally.

Voldemort screamed and tried to run away, but the chicken-beast just ran right after him. He ran round and round in a dozen circles, trying to rid himself of the chicken. Suddenly, on the thirteenth time around, Voldemort stopped, saluted, and blew up.

"Yay!" said baby Harry, who was resting in Lily's arms.

"I wonder if that would work on Osama?" said Ron.

Harry was just about to answer, when there was another pop and he and Ron were back on the stair's of the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley was facing them, looking as normal as ever.

"Oh, by the way, Harry, your father sent an owl. He said he and Sirius will take you and Ron to the Chudley Cannons game on Saturday if you want to go. He said your mother and Remus refused the invitation, so you are welcome to go." Mrs. Weasley smiled fondly at both boys and continued down the stairs.

"Harry," said Ron, bewildered. "Your scar's gone!"

Harry couldn't believe it. Just as he was about to jump for joy with Ron, two more people came down the stairs: Ginny and a girl of about nine years old with ratty blond hair.

"Hi, big fat slug," she said with a lisp as she walked by Harry and Ron.

"C'mon Jill, let's go see a movie or something," said Ginny, glaring at Ron.

Harry heard the girl's voice as he and Ron continued up the stairs, "No, I'm afraid of the movies! Noooo!!!!"

"Ron, I think I have a sister," said Harry with terror in his voice.

"You know what?" said Ron. "This has been a really weird day."

Harry sighed in agreement, hearing a strange voice downstairs saying, "Margaret? You can't call that baby Margaret!"

Yes, again, this is full of inside jokesRemember that! So, review, please. Um, yes. Read my other fics if you have the time, most of them are like this only much more plotless.

--Mrs. Norris (no, they haven't killed me yet!)