HARRY
POTTER
and the Clan of Kappa
The sun rose over the suburban nightmare that was Little Whinging, bringing a new day to the completely mundane residents of Privet Drive. In fact, being ordinary was practically a requirement of tenancy on this street, and of all the normal families living along the perfectly maintained stretch of asphalt the Dursleys of number 4 prided themselves on being the perfect model of normality. Yet, carefully concealed within number 4 Privet drive lived the Dursley family's deepest, darkest secret. Someone Mr and Mrs Dursley wished with all their heart didn't exist. Someone who for the past 14 years had been an unwelcome addition to their family. Their nephew, Harry Potter.
Young Harry was many things, but none of which anyone (especially the Dursleys) would call normal. He was of medium height and build albeit somewhat scrawny, with unruly black hair and bright green eyes. Yet his most unusual feature was the peculiar scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. To most of the world it was just a scar. But to a certain community, it represented something incredible. For Harry Potter was a wizard. And not just any wizard, but one of the most famous wizards of his time. To the wizarding world he was known as "the boy who lived". There wasn't a witch or wizard alive who didn't know his name, for he had defeated the dark wizard Voldemort on several occasions, was featured in every magical history book printed in the last 14 years , and last year had won the triwizard cup. And right now he was in hell. Or at least his idea of hell. The Dursley family reunion.
He was trapped in a hall with dozens of overly large muggles with double chins and disapproving stares. Until yesterday, he thought he was going to get out of this. He had almost been looking forward to going to Mrs Figg's house, but she had tripped over a cat and broken a bone (again), and when he'd suggested staying at No 4, Aunt Petunia had given him a half hour lecture about how, "A delinquent like you could never be trusted with my silverware".
Honestly, the woman was mad, he'd seen paper clips with more silver in them than her cutlery.
On the drive over Uncle Vernon had threatened him with the cupboard under the stairs no less than six times if he tried any of his "funny business". When they arrived he had shoved Harry into a corner and told him in no uncertain terms to stay there until they were ready to leave.
So here he was, watching uncle Vernon's sister Marge loading a plate full of assorted meat products for her dog Ripper, who was presently drooling on Aunt Petunia's shoes that she had bought from Harrods especially for the occasion. The look on her face was one of barely-concealed disgust, and had the dog belonged to anyone but a member of the Dursley family she would probably have run screaming some time ago.
Looking around he saw Uncle Vernon having a in-depth discussion about import taxes with an almost mirror image of himself minus a moustache. In fact every Dursley in the room strongly resembled the person next to them, and Harry was beginning to suspect they were originally from a small island community. Hermione had told him about a village in the pacific where they were so inbred that nearly all of them were identical. The only differences were that some had buck teeth, and others had webbed toes. Still it would explain Dudley.
Thinking about his cousin, Harry glanced at a table where for the past hour ickle Dudders had been gorging himself on the Dursley family buffet. And considering that this was the Dursley family, it was a hell of a lot of food. Eight trestle tables were groaning under the weight of assorted hams, sandwiches, and trifles. In honour of the occasion Aunt Petunia had recreated the huge pudding from the ill-fated dinner party of three years ago.
Just looking at the mound of chocolate and cream gave Harry a bad feeling. It was like an omen, something terrible was going to happen. At least if the Voldemort's cronies attacked him here he could take a few Dursleys with him.
He was trying to think of more pleasant subjects: like Quidditch, going back to school and so on, when a small grey shape about the size of a tennis ball flew in through an open window. "Oh no!" Harry said aloud, "Not now."
The screaming started almost immediately, Aunt Petunia leading the sonic boom. Followed by shouts of
"Bloody hell!" "Is that an owl?" "Petunia, get my gun!" Pigwidgeon (as the owl was called) bounced around the ceiling for several minutes before spying Harry in the corner. He abruptly nose dived towards Harry's head, missing him by millimetres before slamming into the wall. Reluctantly, Harry picked up the small owl and untied the letter that was attached to its leg. He was acutely aware of every eye in the room on him as he began to read.
Dear Harry Hope the muggles aren't around, but you are not going to believe what Percy's done. You know how full-of-himself he is, well this really takes the bloody cake. He was collecting information at the Ministry on the Hogwarts founders, for a piece the Daily Prophet was writing, and he found some picture. Anyway this wasn't your usual picture of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. There was a fifth person in the picture. So Percy looks him up, and it turns out this guy called Guido Kappa was one of the founders, and the historians kind of forgot about him. So Mr Self-Righteous decides that it is against his morals to leave things as they are, and tracks down Reeta Skeeter (Hermione never should have let her out of her jar). Read the article in the envelope.
Reaching into the envelope Harry pulled out the clipping from the Daily Prophet.
Ministry conspiracy:
Fifth founder revealed
Once again loyal readers it has fallen on my shoulders to reveal the deceitful nature of our Ministry. A Ministry employee so shamed by the cover-ups within our government, has come forward with information which the ministry suppressed about a fifth Hogwarts founder. The employee, Percy Weasley, spoke exclusively with the Daily Prophet about documents which prove Guido Kappa was among such notables as Godric Gryffindor, and Rowena Ravenclaw ,who founded the historic Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It has become obvious that Guido Kappa was excluded from all historic records (which are controlled by the ministry), due to his ethnic disposition. When contacted head of the ministry Cornelius Fudge made this statement "You have no proof, and until you do there is no chance the ministry will acknowledge such an outrageous accusation". However, Mr Fudge should know that we do have proof. D isplayed below is a picture of all five Hogwarts founders at the official opening of the school, and in between Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff stands Guido Kappa, ignored no longer. I vow to bring Guido Kappa into the history books where he belongs, so he can take his place among the renowned wizards of all time.
The picture in the article showed a short stocky man with curly black hair and gold fillings in his teeth. Putting the article away Harry took up Ron's letter and continued reading.
This is a disaster! That article came out two days ago, and since then the descendants of this Kappa guy have been onto anyone who will listen about how the ministry ripped them off. Dad says everyone's on damage control at the office, he's only been home for an hour since it started. The Wireless Wizard Network has had hundreds of people saying that it's a disgrace that that guy hasn't been recognised and that someone should do something about it. Well someone has. One of Kappa's relatives (I don't know how to spell his name) led a protest against the ministry and forced Fudge to formally acknowledge his great great great-whatever. So this year there is going to be a new house at Hogwarts; Kappa house. Like we don't have enough problems at school this year, what with the OWLS and you know who and all. Hey that's it! It's all you know who's doing. It has to be part of his evil plan. I have to go and write To Hermione now so I'll see you at Diagon alley before school starts. Its too bad Dumbledoor won't let you leave the muggles house this summer (another thing to blame you-know-who for). See you soon Ron
Harry put down Ron's letter, and leaned against the wall, frowning in thought. The Weasleys were so supportive of muggle rights, that Harry would never have thought Ron was at all racist. It was probably one of those wizarding things he didn't understand. Suddenly he remembered where he was and looked up to see dozens of piggy eyes staring back at him. Uncle Vernon stode over and dragged him out of the hall, nearly wrenching Harry's arm out of the socket. Pigwidgeon fluttered around his uncle's head untill Vernon grabbed him in his podgy fist and hurled him into a tree. Aunt Petunia and Dudley followed on their heels as Uncle Vernon practically threw Harry in the car.
The drive back to Privet drive was a nightmare! Uncle Vernon bellowing at the top of his voice about how Harry had disgraced the entire family. Then Aunt Petunia started with her tirade about how they had put a roof of his head, with Dudley adding his standard insults every couple of sentences. Harry stopped listening after the first mile. Besides, none of them could match Malfoy when his knickers were in a twist.
He spent most of the trip thinking about Hogwarts. The school year started in a week, and he was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione at Diagon alley in four days, though how he was going to get there now was a worry. He had been going to catch a lift with uncle Vernon on his way to work, but he supposed that was out if the question now. Oh well, there was always the knight bus.
Once the car pulled in at no 4, Harry ran to his room to owl Ron.
Dear Ron You really should work on your timing, apparently I embarrassed the muggles. As for that article, I don't see what the fuss is about. If there was a fifth founder then I suppose he should have his own house. And I don't think it matters if he was ethnic. It comes down to it where all wizards, and you've never had a problem with Dean or Seamus. I have to go because Uncle Vernon is about to yell at me some more. I'll see you at Diagon Alley. Harry
He attached the letter to Hedwig's leg and opened the window just as he heard Uncle Vernon thumping up the stairs. Bracing himself for the scream- at-Harry marathon, he held on to the thought that in only a week he would be back at Hogwarts, and every thing would be back to normal.
Four days later Harry stepped off the Knight bus outside the Leaky Cauldron. Waving goodbye to Stan and Ernie he walked inside, and was promptly mobbed by a herd of Weasleys.
Mrs Weasley greeted him with her traditional "Hello dear." Fred and George tried to feed him something that looked like a jam tart, but definitely wasn't. Ginny waved hello shyly, and Ron grabbed his arm and steered him to where he and Hermione were sitting.
Taking a seat Harry turned to Ron and asked "What was that about? I didn't even say hello." Ron only shook his head slightly before replying, "We don't have time for hellos. It's started already!"
Deciding his friend must have got a touch too much sun over the holidays, Harry resolved to humour him and asked "What has?"
Clearly annoyed by Harry's casual tone, Ron gestures around the room, "Look!" Glancing around the bar, Harry couldn't spot anything particularly unusual, although it seemed more crowded than usual. Turning back to Ron he stated, "So its busy, its hardly the first time!"
His friend rolled his eyes before pointing out a group standing at the bar. Looking closely Harry saw a group of five kids roughly his own age having an animated discussion over hair gel.
"Nah bro ya don't want ta use that stuff, its for fags. Ya want this one mate, the chicks love it!" The boy speaking was tall with black curly hair. He'd definitely been taking his own advice. Harry would have wagered his Firebolt, that his hair would not have budged an inch in high winds.
But it was his unusual clothes that caught Harry's attention, in place of the traditional wizarding robes the boy was wearing what appeared to be an overly long black tracksuit jacket, with matching pants. The jacket was open revealing a white singlet and several gold chains.
The boy he was talking to had the most unusual hairstyle Harry had seen during his time in the wizarding world. If the boy had been a muggle, Harry would have called it an Afro, except that it seemed to have a life of its own constantly coiling and uncoiling, rippling one way and then another. It made him nauseous just looking at it. The boy with the "Afro" was wearing a similar outfit as the first boy except in red. Looking at the rest of the group Harry saw that they were all dressed alike.
"Weird" He thought to himself, but it still didn't explain Ron's behaviour. He turned to Hermione and said "What's going on?" "I don't know." she replied. "Ron's been whinging about that lot over there, since I got here."
"I have not." huffed Ron.
"You most definitely have!" she shot back. "What's the big deal? They have as much right to go to Hogwarts as the rest of us! Honestly Ron you're beginning to sound like Malfoy. Next you'll be calling me a Mudblood. So I'll thank you to keep your biased opinions to yourself!"
Caught off guard by his friend's outburst, Ron could only stare at her for several moments before he was able to think of a good comeback. "Hermione, you don't understand. Some wizarding families aren't like others."
Harry couldn't believe what Ron was saying. "Why does that sound familiar?" He asked.
Ron was obviously annoyed, but after being compared to Malfoy twice in the past minute he gave in. "Fine! But you'll see what I mean."
After that the discussion turned to what each of them had done over holidays. Hermione had gone on a short trip to Bulgaria, to visit Viktor Krum. But after an embarrassing incident in a greenhouse, she had to cut her trip short.
"How is Viktor?" Harry asked, with an innocent statement on his face.
"He won't be sitting on a broomstick anytime soon." she replied in a tone that ended all discussion on that particular topic.
Ron had spent most of the summer practising Quidditch with Fred and George. With Oliver Wood gone, there was an opening on the Gryffindor team this year, and Ron was convinced it was in the bag.
At that point Fred and George wandered over and tried again to convince them to eat one of their strawberry tarts.
"What do they do?" asked Harry.
"They'll either turn you into a toad for a minute or make you grow whiskers like a cat. We're not sure which." Replied George.
Hermione stiffened, "No thanks," she said, "but I saw Neville around here a couple of minutes ago. You might ask him."
"Thanks." said Fred, and with that the twins left to find their personal guinea pig otherwise known as Neville Longbottom.
"We'd best be going too," stated Hermione. "I've got a list of supplies four ft. long to get, and you two would do well to remember we have the OWLS this year. You might have been excused from the exams last year Harry, but if you want to pass this year your really going to have to buckle down. You too Ron."
With that she got up and strode to the alley door before turning around and asking "Well. Are you coming?" Harry and Ron quickly picked up their things and followed her out the door.
Once in Diagon alley the trio set about locating everything on their list. Like the Leaky Cauldron, the alley was far busier than usual. Young wizards wearing tracksuit robes filled every store. In Flourish and Blotts they encountered a group complaining loudly about the lack of books on tape, and Madam Malkin was run off her feet trying to measure robes for a group of girls in heavy eyeliner, clutching tubes of lip gloss.
Making a detour to Quality Quidditch supplies, they saw the group from the Cauldron standing outside the window. The boy in the black robes is speaking loudly enough for them to hear as they approach.
"No way man! These brooms are for pussies! My Nonna's kitchen broom can go faster than a Firebolt!"
Harry, unable to ignore a direct insult to his broom of choice, confronted the strange boy. "The Firebolt is the fastest broom yet. Anyone who knows anything about Quidditch knows that!"
"Yeah mate," was the reply "and what would you know!"
Ron stepped in to defend his friend. "He's the Gryffindor seeker you git!"
Comprehension dawned on the boys face. "You're that Potter kid."
Offended by the boy's tone Harry answered. "So what if I am? Who are you?"
The boy leaned against the window looking smug. "Marco Kappa, direct descendant of Guido himself. This is my posse." He gestured towards the kid with the afro. "This is Con and that's Angelo, Vince, and Nick."' He said as he pointed to the remaining three.
"You're going to Hogwarts this year?" asked Hermione.
The guy with the afro, Con, replied "Yeah babe. So when yah get sick of four eyes and Ginger Meggs here drop by my dorm, and I'll show you a good time."
Although obviously shocked by his comment, Hermione chose to ignore it, going on to ask. "If you weren't at Hogwarts before, where did you go to school?"
Marco answered, a look of contempt on his face "Schools are for anglo fags mate. Nah we was home schooled till that honey Reeta wrote that article. She's fully sik! Now me and mine are getting da recognition we deserve, aren't we, fellas?" His "posse" nodded in agreement.
Ron chose that moment to butt in, "So if you think the Firebolt is so lame what do you fly?"
"You'll see bro." Marco replied "Our team is so bulkilla it will leave yours eating our smoke! Right youse guys?"
His companions quickly answer with variety of,
"Yeah Bro!" and "Fully Sik!"
Seeing that Ron was about to get himself into serious trouble Harry dragged him away before things got any uglier.
After the incident at Quality Quidditch Supplies, it took Harry and Hermione a while to calm Ron down. He kept insisting they let him go back there and "finish what that guy had started."
Hermione had to threaten him with the petrificus totalus curse before he was cooled down enough to be left alone. Shortly after that, they all went back to their respective homes to prepare for the trip to Hogwarts.
Two days later Harry arrived at King's Cross station after somehow convincing his uncle to drop him off. He was sure Vernon agreed only because it meant getting rid of his nephew for another year. Pushing his cart through the crowds of muggles, he made the trip through the barrier and looked around for Hermione and Ron.
He spotted them standing by one of the carriages and made his way over, when he caught a blast of a foul smelling spray in the face, and doubled over gasping for breath. Staggering away he saw several boys wearing tracksuit robes holding cans with LYNX written on the side. There was so much deodorant in the vicinity that it formed a visible cloud.
Shaking his head at the strange antics of the new students, he continued to where Ron and Hermione were standing. "Bloody hell Harry!" said Ron, "You smell like fly spray."
Harry sniffed his jacket and grimaced before replying "Don't ask."
Hermione, who was not going to put up with their typical male behaviour on her favourite day of the year, picked up her things and walked towards a carriage. After exchanging annoyed expressions Harry and Ron followed her.
Walking past the steam engine they saw the group from the Leaky Cauldron seemingly in a discussion about how many cylinders the train ran on. One of Marco's lackeys, Nick, spoke out, "Its fucking massive bro, its got to be a V8. You'll hear it when they rev the engine."
Marco shook his head before answering, "Not a chance, mate. They wouldn't want something that heavy in there! It'd drown out the phat beats." Seeing the driver in the cabin he yelled out "Hey Bro. What does this beast run on?"
The statement on the drivers face was a picture of disbelief, and he muttered to himself before yelling back "STEAM!"
The boys looked at each other, obviously confused, until Marco announced, "Must be German!" His group quickly agreed with him.
Seeing Hermione, Con wolf-whistled loudly before yelling, "Hey babe, great ass. Work that booty!" Hermione's face turned a deep red and she doubled her pace.
Falling in behind her Ron said to Harry, "This is going to be a long year!"
The sun rose over the suburban nightmare that was Little Whinging, bringing a new day to the completely mundane residents of Privet Drive. In fact, being ordinary was practically a requirement of tenancy on this street, and of all the normal families living along the perfectly maintained stretch of asphalt the Dursleys of number 4 prided themselves on being the perfect model of normality. Yet, carefully concealed within number 4 Privet drive lived the Dursley family's deepest, darkest secret. Someone Mr and Mrs Dursley wished with all their heart didn't exist. Someone who for the past 14 years had been an unwelcome addition to their family. Their nephew, Harry Potter.
Young Harry was many things, but none of which anyone (especially the Dursleys) would call normal. He was of medium height and build albeit somewhat scrawny, with unruly black hair and bright green eyes. Yet his most unusual feature was the peculiar scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. To most of the world it was just a scar. But to a certain community, it represented something incredible. For Harry Potter was a wizard. And not just any wizard, but one of the most famous wizards of his time. To the wizarding world he was known as "the boy who lived". There wasn't a witch or wizard alive who didn't know his name, for he had defeated the dark wizard Voldemort on several occasions, was featured in every magical history book printed in the last 14 years , and last year had won the triwizard cup. And right now he was in hell. Or at least his idea of hell. The Dursley family reunion.
He was trapped in a hall with dozens of overly large muggles with double chins and disapproving stares. Until yesterday, he thought he was going to get out of this. He had almost been looking forward to going to Mrs Figg's house, but she had tripped over a cat and broken a bone (again), and when he'd suggested staying at No 4, Aunt Petunia had given him a half hour lecture about how, "A delinquent like you could never be trusted with my silverware".
Honestly, the woman was mad, he'd seen paper clips with more silver in them than her cutlery.
On the drive over Uncle Vernon had threatened him with the cupboard under the stairs no less than six times if he tried any of his "funny business". When they arrived he had shoved Harry into a corner and told him in no uncertain terms to stay there until they were ready to leave.
So here he was, watching uncle Vernon's sister Marge loading a plate full of assorted meat products for her dog Ripper, who was presently drooling on Aunt Petunia's shoes that she had bought from Harrods especially for the occasion. The look on her face was one of barely-concealed disgust, and had the dog belonged to anyone but a member of the Dursley family she would probably have run screaming some time ago.
Looking around he saw Uncle Vernon having a in-depth discussion about import taxes with an almost mirror image of himself minus a moustache. In fact every Dursley in the room strongly resembled the person next to them, and Harry was beginning to suspect they were originally from a small island community. Hermione had told him about a village in the pacific where they were so inbred that nearly all of them were identical. The only differences were that some had buck teeth, and others had webbed toes. Still it would explain Dudley.
Thinking about his cousin, Harry glanced at a table where for the past hour ickle Dudders had been gorging himself on the Dursley family buffet. And considering that this was the Dursley family, it was a hell of a lot of food. Eight trestle tables were groaning under the weight of assorted hams, sandwiches, and trifles. In honour of the occasion Aunt Petunia had recreated the huge pudding from the ill-fated dinner party of three years ago.
Just looking at the mound of chocolate and cream gave Harry a bad feeling. It was like an omen, something terrible was going to happen. At least if the Voldemort's cronies attacked him here he could take a few Dursleys with him.
He was trying to think of more pleasant subjects: like Quidditch, going back to school and so on, when a small grey shape about the size of a tennis ball flew in through an open window. "Oh no!" Harry said aloud, "Not now."
The screaming started almost immediately, Aunt Petunia leading the sonic boom. Followed by shouts of
"Bloody hell!" "Is that an owl?" "Petunia, get my gun!" Pigwidgeon (as the owl was called) bounced around the ceiling for several minutes before spying Harry in the corner. He abruptly nose dived towards Harry's head, missing him by millimetres before slamming into the wall. Reluctantly, Harry picked up the small owl and untied the letter that was attached to its leg. He was acutely aware of every eye in the room on him as he began to read.
Dear Harry Hope the muggles aren't around, but you are not going to believe what Percy's done. You know how full-of-himself he is, well this really takes the bloody cake. He was collecting information at the Ministry on the Hogwarts founders, for a piece the Daily Prophet was writing, and he found some picture. Anyway this wasn't your usual picture of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. There was a fifth person in the picture. So Percy looks him up, and it turns out this guy called Guido Kappa was one of the founders, and the historians kind of forgot about him. So Mr Self-Righteous decides that it is against his morals to leave things as they are, and tracks down Reeta Skeeter (Hermione never should have let her out of her jar). Read the article in the envelope.
Reaching into the envelope Harry pulled out the clipping from the Daily Prophet.
Ministry conspiracy:
Fifth founder revealed
Once again loyal readers it has fallen on my shoulders to reveal the deceitful nature of our Ministry. A Ministry employee so shamed by the cover-ups within our government, has come forward with information which the ministry suppressed about a fifth Hogwarts founder. The employee, Percy Weasley, spoke exclusively with the Daily Prophet about documents which prove Guido Kappa was among such notables as Godric Gryffindor, and Rowena Ravenclaw ,who founded the historic Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It has become obvious that Guido Kappa was excluded from all historic records (which are controlled by the ministry), due to his ethnic disposition. When contacted head of the ministry Cornelius Fudge made this statement "You have no proof, and until you do there is no chance the ministry will acknowledge such an outrageous accusation". However, Mr Fudge should know that we do have proof. D isplayed below is a picture of all five Hogwarts founders at the official opening of the school, and in between Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff stands Guido Kappa, ignored no longer. I vow to bring Guido Kappa into the history books where he belongs, so he can take his place among the renowned wizards of all time.
The picture in the article showed a short stocky man with curly black hair and gold fillings in his teeth. Putting the article away Harry took up Ron's letter and continued reading.
This is a disaster! That article came out two days ago, and since then the descendants of this Kappa guy have been onto anyone who will listen about how the ministry ripped them off. Dad says everyone's on damage control at the office, he's only been home for an hour since it started. The Wireless Wizard Network has had hundreds of people saying that it's a disgrace that that guy hasn't been recognised and that someone should do something about it. Well someone has. One of Kappa's relatives (I don't know how to spell his name) led a protest against the ministry and forced Fudge to formally acknowledge his great great great-whatever. So this year there is going to be a new house at Hogwarts; Kappa house. Like we don't have enough problems at school this year, what with the OWLS and you know who and all. Hey that's it! It's all you know who's doing. It has to be part of his evil plan. I have to go and write To Hermione now so I'll see you at Diagon alley before school starts. Its too bad Dumbledoor won't let you leave the muggles house this summer (another thing to blame you-know-who for). See you soon Ron
Harry put down Ron's letter, and leaned against the wall, frowning in thought. The Weasleys were so supportive of muggle rights, that Harry would never have thought Ron was at all racist. It was probably one of those wizarding things he didn't understand. Suddenly he remembered where he was and looked up to see dozens of piggy eyes staring back at him. Uncle Vernon stode over and dragged him out of the hall, nearly wrenching Harry's arm out of the socket. Pigwidgeon fluttered around his uncle's head untill Vernon grabbed him in his podgy fist and hurled him into a tree. Aunt Petunia and Dudley followed on their heels as Uncle Vernon practically threw Harry in the car.
The drive back to Privet drive was a nightmare! Uncle Vernon bellowing at the top of his voice about how Harry had disgraced the entire family. Then Aunt Petunia started with her tirade about how they had put a roof of his head, with Dudley adding his standard insults every couple of sentences. Harry stopped listening after the first mile. Besides, none of them could match Malfoy when his knickers were in a twist.
He spent most of the trip thinking about Hogwarts. The school year started in a week, and he was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione at Diagon alley in four days, though how he was going to get there now was a worry. He had been going to catch a lift with uncle Vernon on his way to work, but he supposed that was out if the question now. Oh well, there was always the knight bus.
Once the car pulled in at no 4, Harry ran to his room to owl Ron.
Dear Ron You really should work on your timing, apparently I embarrassed the muggles. As for that article, I don't see what the fuss is about. If there was a fifth founder then I suppose he should have his own house. And I don't think it matters if he was ethnic. It comes down to it where all wizards, and you've never had a problem with Dean or Seamus. I have to go because Uncle Vernon is about to yell at me some more. I'll see you at Diagon Alley. Harry
He attached the letter to Hedwig's leg and opened the window just as he heard Uncle Vernon thumping up the stairs. Bracing himself for the scream- at-Harry marathon, he held on to the thought that in only a week he would be back at Hogwarts, and every thing would be back to normal.
Four days later Harry stepped off the Knight bus outside the Leaky Cauldron. Waving goodbye to Stan and Ernie he walked inside, and was promptly mobbed by a herd of Weasleys.
Mrs Weasley greeted him with her traditional "Hello dear." Fred and George tried to feed him something that looked like a jam tart, but definitely wasn't. Ginny waved hello shyly, and Ron grabbed his arm and steered him to where he and Hermione were sitting.
Taking a seat Harry turned to Ron and asked "What was that about? I didn't even say hello." Ron only shook his head slightly before replying, "We don't have time for hellos. It's started already!"
Deciding his friend must have got a touch too much sun over the holidays, Harry resolved to humour him and asked "What has?"
Clearly annoyed by Harry's casual tone, Ron gestures around the room, "Look!" Glancing around the bar, Harry couldn't spot anything particularly unusual, although it seemed more crowded than usual. Turning back to Ron he stated, "So its busy, its hardly the first time!"
His friend rolled his eyes before pointing out a group standing at the bar. Looking closely Harry saw a group of five kids roughly his own age having an animated discussion over hair gel.
"Nah bro ya don't want ta use that stuff, its for fags. Ya want this one mate, the chicks love it!" The boy speaking was tall with black curly hair. He'd definitely been taking his own advice. Harry would have wagered his Firebolt, that his hair would not have budged an inch in high winds.
But it was his unusual clothes that caught Harry's attention, in place of the traditional wizarding robes the boy was wearing what appeared to be an overly long black tracksuit jacket, with matching pants. The jacket was open revealing a white singlet and several gold chains.
The boy he was talking to had the most unusual hairstyle Harry had seen during his time in the wizarding world. If the boy had been a muggle, Harry would have called it an Afro, except that it seemed to have a life of its own constantly coiling and uncoiling, rippling one way and then another. It made him nauseous just looking at it. The boy with the "Afro" was wearing a similar outfit as the first boy except in red. Looking at the rest of the group Harry saw that they were all dressed alike.
"Weird" He thought to himself, but it still didn't explain Ron's behaviour. He turned to Hermione and said "What's going on?" "I don't know." she replied. "Ron's been whinging about that lot over there, since I got here."
"I have not." huffed Ron.
"You most definitely have!" she shot back. "What's the big deal? They have as much right to go to Hogwarts as the rest of us! Honestly Ron you're beginning to sound like Malfoy. Next you'll be calling me a Mudblood. So I'll thank you to keep your biased opinions to yourself!"
Caught off guard by his friend's outburst, Ron could only stare at her for several moments before he was able to think of a good comeback. "Hermione, you don't understand. Some wizarding families aren't like others."
Harry couldn't believe what Ron was saying. "Why does that sound familiar?" He asked.
Ron was obviously annoyed, but after being compared to Malfoy twice in the past minute he gave in. "Fine! But you'll see what I mean."
After that the discussion turned to what each of them had done over holidays. Hermione had gone on a short trip to Bulgaria, to visit Viktor Krum. But after an embarrassing incident in a greenhouse, she had to cut her trip short.
"How is Viktor?" Harry asked, with an innocent statement on his face.
"He won't be sitting on a broomstick anytime soon." she replied in a tone that ended all discussion on that particular topic.
Ron had spent most of the summer practising Quidditch with Fred and George. With Oliver Wood gone, there was an opening on the Gryffindor team this year, and Ron was convinced it was in the bag.
At that point Fred and George wandered over and tried again to convince them to eat one of their strawberry tarts.
"What do they do?" asked Harry.
"They'll either turn you into a toad for a minute or make you grow whiskers like a cat. We're not sure which." Replied George.
Hermione stiffened, "No thanks," she said, "but I saw Neville around here a couple of minutes ago. You might ask him."
"Thanks." said Fred, and with that the twins left to find their personal guinea pig otherwise known as Neville Longbottom.
"We'd best be going too," stated Hermione. "I've got a list of supplies four ft. long to get, and you two would do well to remember we have the OWLS this year. You might have been excused from the exams last year Harry, but if you want to pass this year your really going to have to buckle down. You too Ron."
With that she got up and strode to the alley door before turning around and asking "Well. Are you coming?" Harry and Ron quickly picked up their things and followed her out the door.
Once in Diagon alley the trio set about locating everything on their list. Like the Leaky Cauldron, the alley was far busier than usual. Young wizards wearing tracksuit robes filled every store. In Flourish and Blotts they encountered a group complaining loudly about the lack of books on tape, and Madam Malkin was run off her feet trying to measure robes for a group of girls in heavy eyeliner, clutching tubes of lip gloss.
Making a detour to Quality Quidditch supplies, they saw the group from the Cauldron standing outside the window. The boy in the black robes is speaking loudly enough for them to hear as they approach.
"No way man! These brooms are for pussies! My Nonna's kitchen broom can go faster than a Firebolt!"
Harry, unable to ignore a direct insult to his broom of choice, confronted the strange boy. "The Firebolt is the fastest broom yet. Anyone who knows anything about Quidditch knows that!"
"Yeah mate," was the reply "and what would you know!"
Ron stepped in to defend his friend. "He's the Gryffindor seeker you git!"
Comprehension dawned on the boys face. "You're that Potter kid."
Offended by the boy's tone Harry answered. "So what if I am? Who are you?"
The boy leaned against the window looking smug. "Marco Kappa, direct descendant of Guido himself. This is my posse." He gestured towards the kid with the afro. "This is Con and that's Angelo, Vince, and Nick."' He said as he pointed to the remaining three.
"You're going to Hogwarts this year?" asked Hermione.
The guy with the afro, Con, replied "Yeah babe. So when yah get sick of four eyes and Ginger Meggs here drop by my dorm, and I'll show you a good time."
Although obviously shocked by his comment, Hermione chose to ignore it, going on to ask. "If you weren't at Hogwarts before, where did you go to school?"
Marco answered, a look of contempt on his face "Schools are for anglo fags mate. Nah we was home schooled till that honey Reeta wrote that article. She's fully sik! Now me and mine are getting da recognition we deserve, aren't we, fellas?" His "posse" nodded in agreement.
Ron chose that moment to butt in, "So if you think the Firebolt is so lame what do you fly?"
"You'll see bro." Marco replied "Our team is so bulkilla it will leave yours eating our smoke! Right youse guys?"
His companions quickly answer with variety of,
"Yeah Bro!" and "Fully Sik!"
Seeing that Ron was about to get himself into serious trouble Harry dragged him away before things got any uglier.
After the incident at Quality Quidditch Supplies, it took Harry and Hermione a while to calm Ron down. He kept insisting they let him go back there and "finish what that guy had started."
Hermione had to threaten him with the petrificus totalus curse before he was cooled down enough to be left alone. Shortly after that, they all went back to their respective homes to prepare for the trip to Hogwarts.
Two days later Harry arrived at King's Cross station after somehow convincing his uncle to drop him off. He was sure Vernon agreed only because it meant getting rid of his nephew for another year. Pushing his cart through the crowds of muggles, he made the trip through the barrier and looked around for Hermione and Ron.
He spotted them standing by one of the carriages and made his way over, when he caught a blast of a foul smelling spray in the face, and doubled over gasping for breath. Staggering away he saw several boys wearing tracksuit robes holding cans with LYNX written on the side. There was so much deodorant in the vicinity that it formed a visible cloud.
Shaking his head at the strange antics of the new students, he continued to where Ron and Hermione were standing. "Bloody hell Harry!" said Ron, "You smell like fly spray."
Harry sniffed his jacket and grimaced before replying "Don't ask."
Hermione, who was not going to put up with their typical male behaviour on her favourite day of the year, picked up her things and walked towards a carriage. After exchanging annoyed expressions Harry and Ron followed her.
Walking past the steam engine they saw the group from the Leaky Cauldron seemingly in a discussion about how many cylinders the train ran on. One of Marco's lackeys, Nick, spoke out, "Its fucking massive bro, its got to be a V8. You'll hear it when they rev the engine."
Marco shook his head before answering, "Not a chance, mate. They wouldn't want something that heavy in there! It'd drown out the phat beats." Seeing the driver in the cabin he yelled out "Hey Bro. What does this beast run on?"
The statement on the drivers face was a picture of disbelief, and he muttered to himself before yelling back "STEAM!"
The boys looked at each other, obviously confused, until Marco announced, "Must be German!" His group quickly agreed with him.
Seeing Hermione, Con wolf-whistled loudly before yelling, "Hey babe, great ass. Work that booty!" Hermione's face turned a deep red and she doubled her pace.
Falling in behind her Ron said to Harry, "This is going to be a long year!"