My name is Dmitri Dursley. My brother, Dudley, is one year and four months younger than I and this winter will mark the 12th year of my birth. I say he's my brother but really he isn't. His parent's adopted me shortly after Vernon's doctor told him he had a low sperm count and the probability of having a child was extremely low. Of course, shortly after the adoption, Petunia wound up pregnant. Shocking.
Anyway, my real parents, before they died, were Purebloods. That's right, I'm a Pureblood wizard growing up in a magic-loathing, muggle home. The only reason I ended up in a muggle orphanage is that my parents were what most Purebloods call "blood traitors." I try not to live up to that title. No one at school knows I live here, and no one here knows I'm a wizard.
I do not attend Hogwarts by the way. Both of my biological parents were Durmstrang graduates, and although they fled Russia and the wizarding world, I was still admitted there. This is why I won't let anyone at Durmstrang know where I live. I have a family reputation to live down.
This arrangement seems strange, doesn't it? How do I keep my "family" from knowing where I am 5/6 of the year? It's rather simple actually. They are ridiculously naive. They easily believed the forged letters I sent them. They think my excellent grades have won me the honor to attend a private academy in Russia. It isn't a complete lie. I do maintain extraordinarily high grades and Durmstrang is both private and in Russia.
The only problem I have with Durmstrang is how secretive the students and staff are. We aren't supposed to reveal where the school is, what classes are taught, anything. It's a pity too, I would love to give Harry a few lessons. At the very least I could tutor him in the basics but it might jeopardize my standing with the family if they find out I'm a wizard.
Harry should receive his acceptance letter sometime next month. He'll go to Hogwarts without a doubt. I can't wait to take him to our world, where he truly belongs. For now I must content myself with what I have at hand. I know every school in Europe sends out acceptance letters on the same day, so Harry should get his exactly one week before his birthday. I have to be the one to get that letter. If he gets it, it'll be taken away before he can read it.
It would be wiser for me to explain everything to him rather than continue letting these people hold up their constructed lies. He deserves to know the truth, what he is, who his parents were and how they really died. Everything I know, and it feels strange that I and everyone in our world knows more about him than he does.
This family is completely demented. Everything has to be perfectly normal here, and yet "average" isn't acceptable. Living here is like walking a high-wire, constantly balancing myself between normalcy and perfection. Fortunately, perfection isn't difficult to achieve, not for me, not by their standards at least.
Durmstrang has a way of perfecting it's students. Discipline is the first thing everyone learns. The uniform and rules regarding attire are so strict that we are forced to redefine ourselves and our personalities and show it without using clothing or accessories. They tear us down and then help us build ourselves up.
Two days in the muggle world and I already miss school. The structure of it, not so much the classes. Everything is scheduled and focused towards improvement. I'm twelve years old, speak fluent Russian and English, and have the body of a young Adonis. My only fault is my vanity.
This world is strange to me. I've lived here eleven years and it only took ten months for me to feel out of place here. An outcast. I may be accepted as a normal member of this normal family but I feel like a sham, a fraud. Harry suffers everyday and doesn't know why. He's more normal than these people will ever be. He needs to get out while he can; they're going to destroy him. Vernon is prone to violence and I worry the abuse he dishes out will increase once Harry starts studying magic.
It's now 5:47AM. Today is Dudley's 11th birthday. I can't stand waiting around for everyone to wake up. If this dysfunctional family had to live by Durmstrang's schedule, we would all be running laps around the house right now. Then breakfast; oh breakfast, sweet nourishment, life-enabler.
Sadly, I must be content with push-ups and weight lifting, anything that doesn't make too much noise while those lazy bastards sleep the glorious early morning away. Eight more minutes. Dudley will come rampaging down the stairs like the elephant he is. I can't understand how his mother can stand by and watch as her son grows to gargantuan proportions and then buys him a whole carton of ice cream to devour by himself. If it were just Vernon, maybe I could follow the thought process, he's a big guy too, but this is just ridiculous.
The door hinges across the hall creak, light footsteps down the stairs. Petunia, she made Dudley's cake last night; it still has to be decorated. "Up! Get up!" Her shrill voice and sharp knuckles rapping on the cupboard door are nauseating. Vernon's up at last, when their bedroom door is open, I can hear everything. I'm so glad they keep it closed at night. The mental scarring could send me to St Mungo's. He's downstairs now. I want to stay in this room as long as possible. The less time I spend with them, the better.
"Wake up Potter! We're going to the zoo!" That child. He doesn't even realize the structural damage he's doing to the house. Wait, we? They never take Harry anywhere. I wonder if Mrs. Figg is alright. She always takes care of him while they're away.
I have to go down there sometime, no time like the present and all those other clichés. I smell toast, bacon, eggs, and a lovely Indian roast coffee. I could go for a good cup of coffee.
The drive was nothing extraordinary, if only it had been faster. The less time spent with these people the better. Between myself, Dudley, his friend Piers, and Harry all in the back seat, it's a wonder we made it without Dudders complaining about how cramped he was. Too excited I guess.
I could think of many better ways to spend my day than at a zoo watching docile animals in captivity. Wild animals don't belong here. They aren't living, not the way they should be. This place is a prison for innocent creatures. They're suffering and no one notices.
"Make it move." Dudley's complaining about a snake to his father. For goodness sakes, it's a living being not a toy. We're in the reptile house. What part of 'Do Not Tap Glass' can these beasts not understand? Honestly, they should be the ones in cages.
"MOVE!" Vernon is the worst of them, at the moment. Dudley will be worse as an adult. Something must be done about these people. If it weren't illegal, I would love to cast a cruciatus on them. For all the torment they cause everyone, human or otherwise, they deserve it and worse. Don't get me wrong, just because I'm a Pureblood and they are muggles doesn't mean I want them to suffer on that principal alone. I judge people as individuals on their actions, not collectively as either wizard or muggle.
I'm jarred from my thoughts by a low hissing sound, but it's too clear to be coming from one of the snakes behind their glass-walled worlds.
What is that sound? I have to find tha...Oh. I see. Harry's a parslemouth. That's interesting. Such a rare talent, and he won't comprehend the gift he has until he has the resources to find out what he is. He has me, true, but while the muggles are around I can't tell him anything, and the rest of the year we'll be in different countries.
"Mummy! Dad! Come here, you won't believe what this snake is doing!" The snake moves and this obese, pathetic child thinks it's news worthy. Let's call Sky News and BBC, this is an event not to be missed! More importantly, he just pushed Harry to the ground and no one cares. Why must I be part of such a dreadful family?
Now that's interesting. The glass disappeared. Harry must have tapped into his magic accidentally then. Good, his powers are starting to show.
"You alright Harry?" I ask, standing over him.
"Yeah, just fine." There's a scowl on his face. His emotions are running high, that's why his magic was released: emotional overflow.
There have been other instances where his magic was evident, but this is one of the few greatly noticable examples. He just has to be trained properly. What a wonderful evening at home we'll have tonight. Just Petunia, Dudley and I downstairs watching the telly while Harry gets beaten within inches of his life in another room.
I wish I could interfere. I can't leave him alone with these awful muggles (much as I'd love to leave) and Dumbledoor won't take him away. "For his own protection" my arse. That letter is still here, hidden away in the attic. My guess is it was given to them when Harry was left here as a baby.
That's where I found it last year while moving some of my things out from my bedroom. Far too many secrets to keep up with in this house. It'll all blow up in there faces soon. Someone from the school will come for him when he isn't allowed to respond to the letters.
Any more of this and I very well may kill them. All they ever do is dote on me and Dudley or abuse and neglect Harry. It's always the same: we wake, Vernon goes to work, Petunia leaves to visit neighbors or shop, Dudley asks me to play with him and Piers at the park (DENIED), Harry tries to finish a ridiculously long list of chores, and I write upon roll after roll of parchment exactly what my professors want (i.e., thought not memorization).
After the zoo incident, the weeks passed by uneventfully. To the outside world, we were just a normal suburban family. But I know better.
Tomorrow Harry's acceptance letter arrives by owl. Nine more days and we're free. I wonder how he'll get his school supplies. I can't take him to Diagon Ally because my 'parents' will wonder how I know to get there and, even though they are incredibly thick headed, they may find out my secret. My letter to Durmstrang gave instructions to Kosoj Pereulok, the Russian equivalent of Diagon Alley. Maybe they'll do the same, but he doesn't have a wand yet so he won't be able to get in. The entrance to Kosoj Pereulok recognizes magical signatures, Diagon Alley requires a wand to tap it. Maybe they'll send someone to collect and help him find his way around. I've been there once or twice before, to browse the shops in Knockturn Alley.
I'm tired of sitting around waiting. Why can't mail travel faster? "Mum?"
"Yes sweetheart?" She's in the kitchen, making dinner, what a good little housewife she turned out to be. It's like living in the 1950s with her.
"I'm heading out for a bit, do you need me to get anything while I'm gone?" I can play the dutiful child while I have to, but the moment I can afford it, I'm out of this place for good.
"No dear, just be careful while you're out, don't talk to strangers, and be back before sunset. Such a sweet boy I have, my little boy is growing up so fast." I think she's going to cry. It's that maternal thing she has, even though I'm not really her child. She wants to baby me my whole life and doesn't get the chance because I'm away for so long. I pity her. An abusive husband and demanding child, parents she won't talk to anymore, a dead sister she never got along with. What a tragic life, and yet I can't say with any honesty that she didn't deserve it. She really did bring a lot of it upon herself.
I shut the door gently behind me. I'm going to catch a bus to London and get Harry a proper birthday present. Something special that he'll never forget. Something to let him know he isn't alone here. The best gifts for a young wizard can only be found in the wizarding world, so, Diagon Alley here I come.
My wand, since I've mentioned them, is 14 inches long, created from African Blackwood and has a core of Essence of Wolf Claw. The wood acts as a medium between the physical and spiritual realms, tapping into psychic and unbound energies. It's very useful for enchantments and illusions. Both are taught at Durmstrang, as elective courses. Every school is required to teach core classes: Astronomy, Charms, Defense, Herbology, Potions, History, and Transfiguration, but electives vary from school to school.
What should I get him? He's fairly intelligent, but I don't think a book will do him much use. He doesn't spend much time reading anyway. I don't understand why though, reading is wonderful, it can take your mind away to foreign lands, past and future eras, parallel universes or alternate dimensions. Oh well, he'll escape this place soon enough I suppose.
Candy. That's not a bad idea. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizbees, Jelly Slugs, Cockroach Clusters, Fudge Flies. He likes chocolate, dark chocolate especially. Chocolate Frogs and Sugar Quills. Quills, he will definitely need those when he gets to school, along with parchment and ink. Self-inking quills are useful.
I'm thinking all this while walking through Diagon Alley. About half way through, there's an entrance to Knockturn Alley. Dark artifacts and/or illegal items are sold in every shop there, I wonder if Harry would want anything from such a place. Perhaps a cursed item isn't the best way to introduce him to our world, never mind that then.
First, I have to stop at Gringotts. My biological parents left a large sum of money to me following their deaths. Gringotts has many branches, one in France, another in Germany. Four in the United States. Three in Russia, only one of which in Kosoj Pereulok. Fortunately, every branch is connected. I can access my account from virtually anywhere on this planet.
Laws regarding family names (or surnames) haven't changed in this world for centuries. In the muggle world, a person takes on the last name of the family that adopts them. In the wizarding world, a person keeps their birth name. So while I'm with the Dursley's my name is Dmitri Dursley, but here, I am still Dmitri Glebovich.
I think the government does this just so the people in office don't have the extra paperwork to deal with. Lazy.
Walking up the steps to Gringotts, the entrance towers over me. Any other person I'm sure would feel humbled, but not me. I am impressed at best and uninterested at worst. This place is nothing to me, just a storage bin for things. Money, books, heirlooms, jewels. It's all junk. Most of the belongings here have been forgotten by the very people who own them. I went through my vault the day after I found out about it. Dust covered everything.
I'm only here to collect a small number of coins. There's no need to carry a fortune with me when it's only going to be spent on sugary sweets and basic school supplies.
Goblins. Nagnok is at the farthest desk to the right. His brother works at Gringotts, Kosoj Pereulok. "Mr. Nagnok," he looks down from the high desk to me, "I wish to make a withdrawal." I pull a small brass key from the inner pocket of my coat. "Vault 1668."
He takes the key. "You must be Mr. Glebovich then, my brother told me about you." He grins. Goblins work at banks because they are greedy. Greedy but honest. They like making money. I'll be charged a small service fee since my account is in another country.
When I leave here, it's straight to Honeydukes, then Flourish and Blotts. There's a gift wrapping store a block or two down from there. I'll have everything wrapped up tight. The tricky part will be sneaking it into the house and getting it to Harry without anyone noticing.
