Now I have said I wouldn't be able to update due to a reunion but as you can see I have not made good on that because one the Hotel we are staying at has free Wi-Fi and two this place is boring. So enjoy the first chapter of Black and Potter: Book 2! =)
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Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew and niece Harry's and James's room.
"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"
Harry tried, yet again, to explain. While James had her head in her hands turning red in the face and trying to control herself.
"She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night -"
"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache.
"Yes." James said only to be smacked by Petunia with a spatula and James turned even redder in the face, she looked ready to murder the entire family. Harry wasn't sure he would feel sorry for them.
"I know what'll happen if that owl's let out."He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.
Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley.
"That's disgusting, your worse than Ron." James said with a glare as she caught the spatula and threw it in the sink and barred her teeth at "Aunt" Petunia.
"I want more bacon."
"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance… I don't like the sound of that school food…"
"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"
Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair,grinned and turned to Harry.
"Pass the frying pan."
"You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably.
"Harry!" James said in exasperation, she didn't want to hear the yelling. She had a fierce headache.
The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples. James looked even more ready to kill someone.
"I meant 'please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean —"
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"
"But I —"
"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.
"He wasn't" James said seethed.
"I just —"
"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"
Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet. James was starting to stand bright red in the face from rage.
"All right," said Harry, "all right…"
"No it's not alright! Dursley you better bloody apologize or I'll show you what I learned at my school!" James sneered out her hand coming up with her wand.
Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching James closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.
"I apologize." He hissed and James nodded putting her wand up and going back to her food.
Ever since they had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating them like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter and James Black wasn't a normal girl and boy. As a matter of fact, they were as not normal as it is possible to be.
Harry Potter was a wizard and James Black was a witch
— a witch and wizard fresh from their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have them back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry and James felt.
They missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. They missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, their classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in their four-poster beds in the tower dormitories, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks).
All Harry's spell books, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done? James had point blank told them that if they touched her stuff there would be consequences, and she had offered to pick the lock of the cupboard a trick she had learned from the Weasley Twin, Fred and George but Harry just didn't want to hear that confrontation.
The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard and witch in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world and had promptly been smacked with James transfiguration book and told to get the hell out of there before he got worse.
Harry and James looked nothing like the rest of the family.
Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky.
James, didn't look a thing like any of them, she was small with a heart shaped face with heavy lidded navy blue eyes that had swirls of silver in them. She had long black hair that went to her waist that was wavy but manageable . She looked basically like a night fairy in old muggle children's books.
Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar. It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow — nobody understood why —Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry.
So Harry and James had been brought up by their dead mothers' sister and her husband. They had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why they kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents or James's parents were druggies and had overdosed.
And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry and James, and the whole story had come out. Harry and James had taken up their place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous… and James was the smartest witch of the first years, but now the school year was over, and they were back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like dogs that had rolled in something smelly. The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. James had and picked Hedwig's lock and set her free to get a present for Harry, it was a box of chocolate frogs.
Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake — but to ignore it completely…At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."
Harry and James looked up, hardly daring to believe it.
"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon.
"Of course" James muttered, scowling.
Harry and James went back to their toast. Of course, they thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).
"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be —?"
"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."
"Good, good. And Dudley?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.
"More like say 'why on earth have you got a pig in your home?'" James scoffed causing Harry to laugh and the Dursley's to glare.
"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon ignoring James's comment. Then he rounded on them. "And you?"
"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry and James tonelessly.
"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen —"
"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.
"And, Dudley, you'll say —"
"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.
"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.
James rolled her eyes, she wouldn't touch Dudley, she had no idea where he had been especially his arm.
"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry and James.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry and James dully.
"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"
"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason… Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason…"
"Perfect… Dudley?"
"How about —'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'"
This was too much for both Aunt Petunia, James, and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing and James laughed openly.
"And you, boy, girl?"
Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged and James had no restraint.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he and she said.
"Too right, you will." said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you two and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. Be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."
Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive. James hoped they did have one because then they would more than likely leave them alone here.
"Right — I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you two," he snarled at Harry and James. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."
Harry and James left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. Harry crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath:
"Happy birthday to me… happy birthday to me…"
"Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Harry, Happy birthday to you," James sang and twirled around her voice wasn't exactly nice but it wasn't horrible. He knew that James would always be there for him but what he missed more than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay. James had not even got a letter from the twins, Lee, or the one Slytherin that James was friends with for some reason Blaise. Countless times, Harry had been on the point of getting James to unlock Hedwig's cage by her lock picking skills or by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk.
Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry and James hadn't told the Dursleys this; they knew it was only their terror that they might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking them in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick.
For the first couple of weeks back, Harry and James had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under their breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal — and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday.
What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream…
Not that their whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry and James had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape,and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes —
Harry and James suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. They had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge — and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves. Harry and James jumped to their feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.
"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling toward him.
"Big achievement" James scoffed.
The huge eyes blinked and vanished.
"What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.
"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.
"Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."
James smirked nastily at Dudley, she hated the family and if it was to live with them or her cousins the Malfoys she would choose the Malfoy's, if she didn't have Harry here.
"Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"
"Shut up you whale" James scowled. Dudley had hit a nerve with him at that point.
"Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly.
Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.
"Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously.
"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry.
"Nice" James laughed.
Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face.
"You c-can't — Dad told you you're not to do m-magic — he said he'll chuck you out of the house — and you haven't got anywhere else to go — you haven't got any friends to take you —"
"Jiggery pokery!" said Harry and James in a fierce voices. "Hocus pocus — squiggly wiggly —"
"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! They're doing you know what!"
Harry and James paid dearly for their moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew they hadn't really done magic, but they still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at their head with the soapy frying pan.
Then she gave them work to do, with the promise they wouldn't eat again until they'd finished. James had openly swore and had duck a second swing.
While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. James did the laundry, cleaned the floors, vacuumed the floors, helped prune and water the roses, and trimmed the hedges swearing up a storm and threating Dudley to fuck off or her foot would be up his huge double wide ass. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself… maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts…maybe he only had James…
Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagely as he spread manure on the flower beds, his back aching, sweat running down his face. James was red in the face a sweaty and on her tip toes trimming the hedges that were at least a foot taller than her.
It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him and James.
"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"
Harry and James moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.
"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to four slices of bread and two lumps of cheese on the kitchen table.
She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress that James was too tired to make fun of.
Harry and James washed their hands and bolted down their pitiful supper. The moment they had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away their plates. "Upstairs! Hurry!"
As they passed the door to the living room, Harry and James caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. They had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.
"Remember, you two— one sound —"
"Shut up you fat git" James hissed, still angry and Vernon looked a bit more pale at her angry face.
Harry and James crossed to their bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on their bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.
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So was it to your guys standards? Love it? Hate it? Well go on and Rate it in a review ;).
First time KrisxCross out~
