Hola people! I appreciate you taking the time to check out my fanfic! The second chapter should be up soon.
It was a nice, sunny morning in number four, Privet drive. The kind of morning that makes people want to lie on the grass or sit in the garden with a nice cup of coffee. Harry Potter was no exception. Unfortunately, he was not as lucky as most other people in Privet Drive.
"Up!" screeched Petunia Dursley, rapping sharply on the door of the cupboard that her nephew had slept in for the past ten years. "Well, almost ten years," thought Harry. Not that he had been counting, of course.
"Are you up yet?" she demanded.
Harry rolled his eyes. It wasn't like he could stay asleep with her screeching like a barn owl.
"Yes, I'll be right there," h e replied.
"Well get on with it, you need to make breakfast."
Harry rolled out of bed in disappointment; he had been having a fascinating dream. Strangely, he couldn't quite remember what it was about. He usually remembered everything he dreamt about, like they were memories instead of dreams.
He took a deep breath when he came out of his cupboard. Even though the period of confinement to his cupboard for his trick at the zoo had ended quite a while back, he still relished the fresh air that assaulted him when he came out in the mornings.
He sauntered merrily into the kitchen, stopping himself before any of the Dursleys saw him. There was no need to jinx his day.
Flip. Flip again. Toss. Cube of butter. Serve.
Harry quickly got accustomed to the familiar rhythm of flipping pancakes. Quickly making the pancakes, he turned off the stove and took a seat at the table to eat his gourmet breakfast of bread and cheese. Halfway through his meal, he heard the sliding of letters through the mail slot.
"Get the post, Boy," said Uncle Vernon from between a forkful of pancakes in a rather disgusting way.
Sighing, he got up and walked to the backdoor where the letters where lying on the floor. There were three. That wasn't unusual, or so he thought.
He picked them up and flipped through them, walking toward the table to give them to Uncle Vernon. Wait a second, he froze. He stared at the name on the envelope. Written in emerald-green ink, it said,
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Harry quickly tossed it into his cupboard and holding the remaining two, walked into the kitchen, hoping no one would notice something amiss. He handed the letters to Uncle Vernon and flopped down in his chair to finish the rest of his bread and cheese.
Harry gulped in down as fast as he could, eager to look at his letter. He had to slow down quite a bit when he noticed his aunt and uncle looking at him suspiciously but he managed to finally shut himself in his cupboard to open the letter.
He fingered the yellowish envelope, slightly hesitant to open it. It wasn't everyday he got a letter. Steeling himself, he gently pried open the wax seal. Two pieces of parchment fell out. Harry picked one from the top and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First class, Grand Sorc., , Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st. We will await your owl by no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
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