iNone of these characters are mine. This is my first fanfic, so please be gentle!pCHAPTER I -- A Bad Beginning
pNot for the first time that day, had nearly fifteen-year-old Harry Potter stuffed his fore-fingers in his ears and buried his head under his pillow to drown out the thuds and shouts coming from the next room. Harry's owl, Hedwig squawked and fluttered in her cage as the floorboards shook beneath her. The source of the noise and vibrations was Harry's cousin Dudley, no doubt throwing another tantrum because his brand-new computer had once again stopped working. Dudley seemed to be having the worst summer of his entire life. During the previous school year his diet had begun to take a small but apparent effect and now that school was over Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had, on the insistence of Dudley's school nurse, enrolled him in a summer sports program. Every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would take a grumpy Dudley to rugby practice where he would heave and puff his way through one grueling play after another. Lucky for Dudley he was good at hitting people.
pYes, lucky for Dudley, but unlucky for Harry, who now had to endure almost constant temper tantrums and was forced to look over his shoulder continuously, lest Dudley should try to tackle him. Dudley threw his first tantrum that day at the breakfast table over his grapefruit quarter.
p"I DON'T WANT THIS JUNK ANYMORE", Dudley shouted, banging his dimpled fist on the table, rattling the plates.
p"But, Duddums your diet...your school nurse thinks it best to--", Aunt Petunia began.
p"I DON'T CARE! I WANT CRUNCHIE-PUFFS", he bellowed, chins jiggling.
p"Now, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said, peering over the top of his newspaper. "The nurse thinks you could still stand to lose a little weight."
p"I HAVE LOST WEIGHT!" Dudley pounded the table so hard, Harry's plate jumped and spun in place, his grapefruit quarter teetering dangerously near the edge. He grabbed it before it could roll off of the table.
p"Diddy, please! Only a little while longer and then it will be over," Aunt Petunia crooned. But Dudley would have none of it.
p"CRUNCHIE-PUFFS NOW! I WANT MY---CRUNCH---"
pCrunch was right. Dudley had stomped his feet so hard and pounded his fist so heavily that the extra stress on his chair caused it to collapse. Dudley landed hard on his ample bottom on the kitchen floor, but didn't miss a beat. He threw his head back, howled, kicked and pounded both fists into the floor. Harry scarfed his grapefruit as quickly as he could and crept out of the kitchen amid all of the confusion. He was a few steps past his old cupboard before realizing that this would be the perfect opportunity to grab some books. The fact that he probably could have heard Dudley's shouts of protest and Aunt Petunia's cooing ('how hard this diet has been on my poor fragile boy!') upstairs, was a good indication that no one would be coming out of the kitchen anytime soon to catch him. He carefully pulled back the latch and swung the door open before it had a chance to creak. Inside the cupboard was his trunk containing all of his school books, his wand, and robes. On top of the trunk was his most treasured possession: his Firebolt racing broom. It was given to him two years ago by his godfather, Sirius Black.
pHe lifted the broom gingerly and set it outside of the cupboard while he rummaged in his trunk for the right books and extra parchment. Suddenly, he heard Uncle Vernon's voice above Dudley's wails and thuds.
p"Well, I'm off! See you this evening Petunia. Have a good day Dudders!"
pHarry stood up swiftly, forgetting he was in the closet and banging his head on the door frame. Uncle Vernon was going to come out of the kitchen! He grabbed what books he could, a handful of parchment, and a quill. He shut the cupboard door with his hip and managed, somehow to fasten the latch with his elbow before dashing upstairs, his arms full. He made it to the landing and threw himself around the corner just as he heard Uncle Vernon pass through the foyer and exit through the front door. Harry waited until he heard the car engine start before crossing back over the landing and entering his bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief and dumped his books on his bed before remembering something rather important. The Firebolt.
pHe dashed as silently as he could back down the stairs and looked around the corner into the hall. It was gone. Harry tiptoed through the hallway and stopped facing the cupboard. He was sure he had left the broom leaning against the wall but now it wasn't there. Intending to make sure Aunt Petunia wouldn't come out of the kitchen and catch him looking in the cupboard, he glided up to the closed kitchen door and pressed his ear against the glass. Dudley must have gone outside because the kitchen was quiet except for a low rasping sound. What was that noise? Then it hit him like a brick in the face. Aunt Petunia was cleaning up after Dudley. Aunt Petunia was sweeping the floor. Aunt Petunia was sweeping up Dudley's mess with the FIREBOLT! In shock, Harry burst through the kitchen door. Aunt Petunia stopped sweeping and looked up, broom in hand.
p"What do YOU want?" she nearly shrieked. Harry, realizing what he was doing could only stammer.
p"Um...er. That's my...er...that broom is...it's...er..," he said, heart thudding, pointing at the now cruddy and disheveled Firebolt.
p"GO OUTSIDE AND WATER THE LAWN", Aunt Petunia shouted before Harry could speak again. She continued sweeping.
pSick to the stomach, Harry trudged outside. It was so horrible it should have been illegal.
p+ + + + +
pLater that evening after dinner, when Uncle Vernon and Dudley went to the grocery to buy more grapefruit, and Aunt Petunia stepped out onto the lawn to gossip with Mrs. Next-Door, Harry snuck downstairs and retrieved his now battered Firebolt from the cupboard. He sat on his bed for a long time choking back tears, the Firebolt across his lap. Using the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had sent him for his birthday a few years ago, it took him most of the night to fix the physical damage that Aunt Petunia had inflicted on his world-class racing broom. He wondered if it would even fly. Around 3:00 a.m., he finally fell into a fitful sleep.
pNot for the first time that day, had nearly fifteen-year-old Harry Potter stuffed his fore-fingers in his ears and buried his head under his pillow to drown out the thuds and shouts coming from the next room. Harry's owl, Hedwig squawked and fluttered in her cage as the floorboards shook beneath her. The source of the noise and vibrations was Harry's cousin Dudley, no doubt throwing another tantrum because his brand-new computer had once again stopped working. Dudley seemed to be having the worst summer of his entire life. During the previous school year his diet had begun to take a small but apparent effect and now that school was over Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had, on the insistence of Dudley's school nurse, enrolled him in a summer sports program. Every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would take a grumpy Dudley to rugby practice where he would heave and puff his way through one grueling play after another. Lucky for Dudley he was good at hitting people.
pYes, lucky for Dudley, but unlucky for Harry, who now had to endure almost constant temper tantrums and was forced to look over his shoulder continuously, lest Dudley should try to tackle him. Dudley threw his first tantrum that day at the breakfast table over his grapefruit quarter.
p"I DON'T WANT THIS JUNK ANYMORE", Dudley shouted, banging his dimpled fist on the table, rattling the plates.
p"But, Duddums your diet...your school nurse thinks it best to--", Aunt Petunia began.
p"I DON'T CARE! I WANT CRUNCHIE-PUFFS", he bellowed, chins jiggling.
p"Now, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said, peering over the top of his newspaper. "The nurse thinks you could still stand to lose a little weight."
p"I HAVE LOST WEIGHT!" Dudley pounded the table so hard, Harry's plate jumped and spun in place, his grapefruit quarter teetering dangerously near the edge. He grabbed it before it could roll off of the table.
p"Diddy, please! Only a little while longer and then it will be over," Aunt Petunia crooned. But Dudley would have none of it.
p"CRUNCHIE-PUFFS NOW! I WANT MY---CRUNCH---"
pCrunch was right. Dudley had stomped his feet so hard and pounded his fist so heavily that the extra stress on his chair caused it to collapse. Dudley landed hard on his ample bottom on the kitchen floor, but didn't miss a beat. He threw his head back, howled, kicked and pounded both fists into the floor. Harry scarfed his grapefruit as quickly as he could and crept out of the kitchen amid all of the confusion. He was a few steps past his old cupboard before realizing that this would be the perfect opportunity to grab some books. The fact that he probably could have heard Dudley's shouts of protest and Aunt Petunia's cooing ('how hard this diet has been on my poor fragile boy!') upstairs, was a good indication that no one would be coming out of the kitchen anytime soon to catch him. He carefully pulled back the latch and swung the door open before it had a chance to creak. Inside the cupboard was his trunk containing all of his school books, his wand, and robes. On top of the trunk was his most treasured possession: his Firebolt racing broom. It was given to him two years ago by his godfather, Sirius Black.
pHe lifted the broom gingerly and set it outside of the cupboard while he rummaged in his trunk for the right books and extra parchment. Suddenly, he heard Uncle Vernon's voice above Dudley's wails and thuds.
p"Well, I'm off! See you this evening Petunia. Have a good day Dudders!"
pHarry stood up swiftly, forgetting he was in the closet and banging his head on the door frame. Uncle Vernon was going to come out of the kitchen! He grabbed what books he could, a handful of parchment, and a quill. He shut the cupboard door with his hip and managed, somehow to fasten the latch with his elbow before dashing upstairs, his arms full. He made it to the landing and threw himself around the corner just as he heard Uncle Vernon pass through the foyer and exit through the front door. Harry waited until he heard the car engine start before crossing back over the landing and entering his bedroom. He breathed a sigh of relief and dumped his books on his bed before remembering something rather important. The Firebolt.
pHe dashed as silently as he could back down the stairs and looked around the corner into the hall. It was gone. Harry tiptoed through the hallway and stopped facing the cupboard. He was sure he had left the broom leaning against the wall but now it wasn't there. Intending to make sure Aunt Petunia wouldn't come out of the kitchen and catch him looking in the cupboard, he glided up to the closed kitchen door and pressed his ear against the glass. Dudley must have gone outside because the kitchen was quiet except for a low rasping sound. What was that noise? Then it hit him like a brick in the face. Aunt Petunia was cleaning up after Dudley. Aunt Petunia was sweeping the floor. Aunt Petunia was sweeping up Dudley's mess with the FIREBOLT! In shock, Harry burst through the kitchen door. Aunt Petunia stopped sweeping and looked up, broom in hand.
p"What do YOU want?" she nearly shrieked. Harry, realizing what he was doing could only stammer.
p"Um...er. That's my...er...that broom is...it's...er..," he said, heart thudding, pointing at the now cruddy and disheveled Firebolt.
p"GO OUTSIDE AND WATER THE LAWN", Aunt Petunia shouted before Harry could speak again. She continued sweeping.
pSick to the stomach, Harry trudged outside. It was so horrible it should have been illegal.
p+ + + + +
pLater that evening after dinner, when Uncle Vernon and Dudley went to the grocery to buy more grapefruit, and Aunt Petunia stepped out onto the lawn to gossip with Mrs. Next-Door, Harry snuck downstairs and retrieved his now battered Firebolt from the cupboard. He sat on his bed for a long time choking back tears, the Firebolt across his lap. Using the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had sent him for his birthday a few years ago, it took him most of the night to fix the physical damage that Aunt Petunia had inflicted on his world-class racing broom. He wondered if it would even fly. Around 3:00 a.m., he finally fell into a fitful sleep.
