Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story. Feel free to thieve what I have rightfully stolen.

Chapter One

The Vanishing Glass

Nearly ten years have passed since your family woke to find you on the front steps, but Privet Drive has remained blissfully unchanged. The sun rises on the same tidy front gardens, and lights up the brass number four on the front door; it creeps into the living room, which has hardly changed for as long as you can remember. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece lack the comforting consistency that defies the passage of time. Once the mantelpiece had shown pictures of your cousin, Dudley Dursley, as a cute, if plump, baby. Now they show pictures of the two of you, though more of him, as is only proper, as you go through various landmarks on the road to adulthood.

You are asleep at the moment, but not for long. Your Aunt Petunia is awake, and it is her voice that will make the first noise of the day.

"Harry, get up! It's morning."

You wake with a start. You hadn't meant to sleep in late enough for her to wake you up, not on Dudley's birthday, but you had been having a rather good dream. You role over and try to remember it. There had been a flying motorbike in it, and you have the feeling that you have had this dream before. Shaking you head, you shrug it off. Motorbikes don't fly. You know this, you just wish that your dreams knew this.

Your aunt is back outside the door now. "Are you up yet?" she asks.

"Nearly" you reply.

"Well get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon."

You can't believe that you were so lazy as to make her get you up not once, but twice, and on Dudley's birthday too. You get out of bed and take the top pair of socks from your sock pile. After you pull one of your spider friends off of one of them, you put them on. You are used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs is full of them, and that is where you sleep.

You don't know what your family was thinking when they put you their, it is not really a very normal place to house a small child. None the less they did put you there, and now it seems like the past couple of years have been a constant struggle to stay. When you were seven, they seemed to realize that having a child sleep in the cupboard under the stairs was not exactly the most normal thing in the world, and had thus decided to move you into Dudley's second bedroom.

You had rallied Dudley, and together the two of you had managed to convince them that it was less normal to force a child to change bedrooms when you weren't even moving to a new house. You think that Dudley's temper tantrum might have been more effective then your appeal to normality but you are sure that he alone would have been overruled.

What really matters in the end is that you are still in your nice cozy cupboard. A cupboard that you have perfectly organized, and are free to keep exactly how you want it.

Now that you are dressed, you walk down the hall into the kitchen. The table is almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looks like he got the new computer he wants, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. You are not sure exactly why he wants a racing bike, as he is rather plump, and hates exercise; unless of course it involves punching someone. You feel rather bad for the younger kids that are Dudley's favorite punching bags. He used to like to punch you, but he couldn't often catch you because even though you don't look it, you are very fast. He stopped trying after his parents insisted that it wasn't normal for cousins to fight so much. They told him that as your gardians, it was the duty of their family to look after you since your parents are dead, and that means protecting you, not beating on you. You don't think that Dudley cares as much about duty as you or his parents, but he does know not to bite the hand that feeds him.

It may have something to do with living in a dark cupboard, or perhaps always making sure to eat less then the rest of your family, but you have always been small and skinny for your age. You used to look even more so before your family decided that making you ware Dudley's old clothes made them look poor; Dudley is about four times bigger then you are.

Perhaps you have gotten a bit ahead of yourself. Your name is Harry Potter. You have a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. You wear round glasses. All in all you look rather unremarkable, and the only thing that you don't like about your own appearance, other than your unruly hair, is a very thin scar on your forehead that is shaped like a bolt of lightning. You have had it as long as you can remember, and the first question that you remember asking your Aunt Petunia was how you got it.

"in the car crash when your parents died," she said. "And don't ask questions." Don't ask questions, that was the first rule that you had learned for getting along with your family.

Your Uncle Vernon enters the kitchen as you turn over the bacon.

"Comb your hair," he barks, by way of a morning greeting.

Once every week, Uncle Vernon tells you that you need a haircut. If it were that simple, you would joyously go to the barber to make him happy, but alas, your hair is not that easily dealt with. You must have more haircuts than the rest of the boys in your class put together, but it makes no difference, your hair simply grows that way – all over the place.

By the time Dubdley arrives in the kitchen with his mother, you are frying eggs. It is okay that he got to sleep in so late, because it is his birthday. It would be okay anyway, except on school days, because he is Dudley. It just isn't a good idea for you to sleep in, because you are Harry.

Dudley looks a lot like Uncle Vernon. Watery blue eyes squint out from his large pink face that rests on what little neck he has, and thick blond hair lays smoothly on his thick, plump head. Aunt Petunia often says that Dudley looks like a baby angel, but the only part of his appearance that you really envy is his hair. Uncle Vernon wouldn't criticize your hair if it always rested so smoothly on you head.

You put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which is rather difficult as there isn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, is counting his presents.

His face falls. "Thirty-six," he says, looking up at his mother on father. "That's two less than last year." You don't like that trend. Ever since you convinced your aunt and uncle that it was normal for them to get their nephew presents in proportion to how many they get their own son, they have gotten you 10% of the presents that they get him.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from mummy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," says Dudley as he goes red in the face.

You can see a huge Dudley tantrum coming, and begin wolfing down your bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turns the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously can scent danger too, because she quickly says, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin. Two more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thinks for a moment. It looks like hard work, he never was very good at maths. Finally he says slowly, "So I'll have thirty … thirty ..."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," says Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sits down heavily and grabs the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckles, ever the businessman. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffles Dudley's hair. Somehow it is still neater than yours. Did you mention that you envy Dudley's hair?

The three of you watch while Dudley unwraps his presents. He unwraps the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, a VCR, a gold wristwatch, and a new TV for his room before the doorbell rings.

Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents take him, you, an da friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. This year you will be going to the zoo. When you were younger, you were left behind with one of the neighbors, Mrs. Figg. She is a mad old lady who lives two streets away. You hated it there; the whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made you look at photographs of all the cats that she'd ever owned. You had been very happy the first time that they had decided to take you with.

A moment later Dudley's best friend, Piers Plkiss, walks in with his mother. Piers is a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He is usually the one who holds people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hits them. The two of you never got along well. You always wished that Dudley would pick on people who were better able to defend themselves, it just seems like it would be better somehow. Before he and Dudley became friends, you used to tattle on Piers all the time, of coarse you had to stop once they were friends, if you had kept tattling on him, Dudley would have been liable to get in trouble, and cousins have to look out for each other. That is what family is for.

Half an hour later you are starting what promises to be an enjoyable day spent celebrating your cousin's birthday. You are sitting in the back seat with Dudley and Piers on the way to the zoo. While he drives, Uncle Vernon compleins to Aunt Petunia. He likes to complain about things: People at work, the council, and the bank are just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it is motorbikes.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he says as a motorbike overtakes you.

It is a very sunny Saturday and the zoo is crowded with families. Uncle Vernon bought the three of you large chocolate ice creams, at the entrance from a smiling lady. You are really enjoying the sugary treat as you watch a gorilla scratching its head in a way that rather reminds you of Dudley when he has to do maths, except that it has messy black hair like yours, instead of smooth blond hair like Dudley.

You have a wonderful morning watching the animals as they wonder what people are doing watching them. By lunch time Dudley and Piers are starting to get bored with the animals, so you head to the zoo restaurant. Dudley has a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory doesn't have enough ice cream in top, so Uncle Vernon gives it to you and buys him another one. You decide that hand-me-down dessert is much better then the hand-me-down clothes that you used to have to wear. Dudley always gets dessert, but your are only allowed to have any on special occasions like this.

After lunch, you go to the reptile house. It is cool and dark, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes are crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers want to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly finds the largest snake in the place. It could wrap its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crush it into a trash can, but at the moment it doesn't look in the mood. In fact, it is fast asleep.

Dudley stands with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils. "Make it move," he whines at his father. Uncle Vernon taps on the glass, but the snake doesn't budge. "Do it again," Dudley orders. Uncle Vernon raps the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozes on.

Dudley moans. "This is boring." He shuffles away.

You move in front of the tank and look intently at the snake. You don't blame the snake for boring Dudley; you wouldn't be surprised if it died of boredom itself, no company except annoying people drumming their fingers in the glass, trying to disturb it all day long.

The snake suddenly opens its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raises its head until its eyes are on a level with yours.

It winks.

You stare. A snake just winked at you, that can't be a good thing. You are rather sure that snakes don't wink at normal people, and you know that nothing can be more important then being normal. You quickly look around to see if anyone is watching. They aren't.

The snake jerks its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raises its eyes to the ceiling. It is giving you a look that says quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

You decide that while it is clearly not normal for a snake to act like this, the normal response it to be polite. "I know," you murmur through the glass, though really, the snake probably can't hear you. "It must be really annoying."

You can't believe it, the snake nods, vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" You ask.

The snake jabs its tail at a little sign next to the glass. You peer at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil. In your opinion, it should also say, 'World's smartest snake', but then again, you don't know much about snakes, maybe there is an even smarter one somewhere.

You decide to go back to making pleasant conversation with the giant man-eating reptile. "Was it nice there?" The boa constrictor jabs its tail at the sign again and you read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see. So you've never been to Brazil." As the snake shakes its head, a deafening shout behind you makes both of you jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING" Dudley comes waddling towards you as fast as he can. So focused is he, that he bubs into you and knocks you down without even realizing it. Caught by surprise, you fall hard on the concrete floor.

What comes next happens so fast that nobody sees how it happens. One moment, Piers and Dudley are leaning right up close to the glass, the next they leap back with howls of horror.

You sit up and gasp; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank has vanished. The great snake is uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house scream and start running for the exits.

As the snake slides swiftly past you, you could swear a low, hissing voice says, "Brazil, here I come.. Thanksss, amigo." The keeper of the reptile house is clearly in shock.

"But the glass," he keeps saying, "where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again latter that afternoon. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as you had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time you got back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling you how it had nearly bitten his leg off, while Piers was swearing up and down that it had tried to squeeze his to death. Worst of all, for you at least, was when Piers calmed down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry." Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safetly out of the house before starting in on you. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go, cupboard, stay, no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

You lie in your dark cupboard much later, withing you had a watch. You don't know what time it is, and you can't be sure the Dursleys are asleep yet. Until they are, you can't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.

You've lived with the Dursleys for almost ten years, as long as you can remember, ever since you were a baby and your parents had died in that car crash. You can't remember being in the car when they died. Sometimes, when you strain your memory , you come up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on your forehead. This, you suppose, was the crash, though you can't imagine where all the green light came from. You can't remember your parents at all. Your aunt and uncle never speak of them, and you are forbidden to ask questions. There are no pictures of them in the house.

When you were younger, before your family started being nicer to you, you used to dream and dream of some unknown relation coming to take you away, but it never happened; the Dursleys are your only family. Things have improved in the last several years; in fact, this is the first time they have locked you in your cupboard since you were a little kid. You learned long ago that they just wanted you to be normal, and since you want to be normal, that is easy most of the time. You generally think that you are far more normal then Dudley, not that you would ever anger them by voicing that opinoin. Still, you can't blame them for punishing you this time, there is nothing normal about talking to a snake, and even though you couldn't possibly have made the glass vanish, the circumstantial evidence does point to you. After all, you were talking to it, and then you were annoyed when Dudley carelessly knocked you out of the way.

Despite your efforts to be normal, you sometimes think, or maybe fear, that strangers in the street seem to know you. Very strange strangers they are too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to you once while out shopping with your aunt and cousin. After asking you furiously if you knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed you out of the shop without buying anything. You were glad that she did; he was weird. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at you once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken your hand in the street the other day, and then walked away without a word. The freakiest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second you try to get a closer look.

AN: Most of this chapter comes straight from cannon. This is because Harry having a different personality type hasn't changed much yet. Obviously the Dursleys get along with him better, but I don't think that would really change Dudley's birthday much, as they took Harry along in cannon anyway due to Mrs. Figg's mishap. I have tried to insert a bit of my writing style so that it will fit in stylistically latter, but as I copied a lot of it word for word, there is a lot of Rowling's style too.