Harry Potter and the Bucket List

Pre-School 1

Beta: Cloudy

Cover drawn by Candy! You can check out her Instagram at

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This was written purely for fun.

Warning: Morally dark / gray OC (will lie, steal, kill, etc). Additional warning I treat the characters like they have more than one dimension. The horror. So if you are coming in expecting me to bash over the same characters throughout the story, you'll be sorely disappointed. Story will include standard HP warnings.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

Genres: Parody, satire, dark comedy, adventure, family, friendship, fwuff

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

Made that genre extra easy to see! If you don't like elements of those genres, I 100% assure you this story is not for you. This was written for fun and for my enjoyment during the lockdown.

This story is mildly AU. For the most part I use the world built from canon, but I've made some minor changes such as the Potters being under the Fidelius charm longer than a week.

We do not support Cursed Child as canon in this house. If you want those reasons, just google "fandom thoughts on Cursed Child."

I don't reference Hermione's skin color at all in this story so if y'all want her to be African-British or a perfect replica of Emma Watson go for it. I only call her bushy-haired and that she looks like her book counterpart. Interpret her as you want. But if I do accidentally leave in any kind of skin reference that was missed in the editing process please let me know so I can immediately fix it.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

For the longest time, all I felt was the pain. There was no singular thought, no coherent feeling. Only pain. I felt it all throughout my body, and yet I felt like I had no body. I was flattened; spread out and steamrolled over repeatedly. The pain was unlike any I had ever experienced, and when I was finally given relief, all I wanted to do was sob gratefully.

The relief, unfortunately, was painfully brief.

And then the pain started again, but this time it was focused on my head. The worst possible migraine in history, I believed. Nothing—absolutely nothing—could be compared to that pain.

My body felt loose, wobbly, and utterly helpless. I had little to no motor control, and I could do nothing but cry and cry. At times, I felt a rush of cold and the pain vanished instantly, but it only lasted for a minute, or two.

And then, one day, the pain abruptly stopped.

I woke up.

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

My eyes stared at the painted ceiling of the night sky. Stars twinkled, and I saw a comet shoot across the sky. There was a single waning moon to the far right corner, and when I turned my head to look at it, I realized that I was surrounded by wooden bars on all sides of me. Confusion entered my mind, as I struggled to understand why I would be in a cage without a ceiling.

After another moment of staring at the bars, I began to look around and I realized how proportionately large all the furniture was around me.

I was inside a child's room.

A... a baby's room.

Fear, with more bewilderment, shot through me and adrenaline forced my body into action. I flailed around, unable to find the strength to do more than roll a little to the left and right. I looked down in horror at my tiny, chubby hands that I knew were not mine. The hands before me were pale and pink, and most certainly too tiny to belong to any adult. My arms were covered in fat, and stubby. I was wearing some kind of footie pajamas.