Harry Potter and the Heir of Gotchyn

Chapter One

If you peeked through the windows of the Dursley's residence in Privet Drive, you could easily assume that there were only three people living there – Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley – and that they were completely normal. Well, I suppose they are completely normal – but if you find yourself peeking through the mail slot in the front door, you may see (with some difficulty, mind you) an entrance to a cupboard under the stairs; if you stood patrol for some time, you may even see a small boy with scruffy brown hair and a lightning scar on his forehead, emerge from that cupboard and disappear down the hallway. Now, my friends, if you had seen that, then you had seen Harry Potter. You see Harry Potter is very different from you, me or the Dursleys – Harry Potter is a wizard (a very good one, at that) and attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the direction of Professor Dumbledore.

Harry hadn't known he was a wizard until his eleventh birthday – oh and what a surprise it was! Hagrid, a half-giant Games Keeper at Hogwarts, had come on his bewitched motorbike to take Harry to school and Harry and Hagrid had ridden off into the night, leaving very confused (and transfigured in Dudley's case!) Dursleys behind.

Harry smiled and rolled over in his bed, remembering that stormy night and had a giggle to himself. Hagrid had bewitched a pig's tail onto Dudley's bottom much to the astonishment (and delight) of Harry. It had been quite a fuss when Harry had returned for his first holidays off school under the care of the Dursley's again and they had been terrified that Harry would put a spell on them, so they tried to keep out of his way.

Harry glanced at his watch and saw that it was 9:34pm. He loved his watch. His friends from school, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had given it to him last year when they had gone to Hogsmeade and Harry had been unable to go. It was blue and green and glowed in the dark. The numbers kept moving around and laughing at you. So it could be 9:34pm, 3:39pm or 4:39pm. Harry guessed 9:34pm because it was dark outside and the Dursleys were in bed, asleep.

Tomorrow was a big day. Harry would be travelling to the Weasley's house, The Burrow, and then onto Diagon Alley to get his school supplies. After a very eventful year last year, Harry needed a few extra things, including a new Transfiguration book, as only last week, it had turned into a rat and scuttled away and had only appeared again when Uncle Vernon had shot it, which, of course, rendered it useless, and a new Potions book, which had been ruined when Ron had accidently spilled some sort of undiluted potion on it, causing it to explode in a shower of paper. Ron was always messing up in Potions, which wasn't that good because Snape was the teacher and he had it in for the three of them, especially Harry. Potions lessons were always very interesting. Harry wanted to find out why Snape hated them so much and he was certain it would be sometime this year.

He rolled over and blew out the candle that was burning beside his bed. That saved him the trouble of having to get out of bed to turn of the light, so now he just used candles. And with a smile and a thought of tomorrow's excitement, the little boy called Harry Potter fell into a deep sleep.

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"So, boy, when are the, erm, people getting here?" Uncle Vernon's face was turning a slight shade of purple as he stood cautiously in the living room. Aunt Petunia was standing slightly behind him, as if she was terrified the Weasleys would explode the fireplace again, like last time they visited. Harry shrugged.

"They said about now, they'll be here soon." He glanced at his watch. 9:55am. He had been up since 5am, the excitement had been too much to allow him to sleep.

Harry was standing in the middle of the room, with his luggage and Hedwig in her cage piled up next to him. Every so often, Dudley would silently enter the room and attempt to open one of the cases, but would chicken out and run off, clutching his bottom. Harry began to feel impatient and he could tell the Dursleys were getting angry.

"They were like this last time, weren't they? I suppose they expect to get a breakfast if they're that late," Aunt Petunia shrilly said.

"Well they damn well won't," Uncle Vernon said, his face growing an even darker shade of purple. "These … strange people should be grateful we're letting the boy go. If it were up to me I'd…"

At that moment, Mr Weasley appeared through the fireplace. He dusted his hands off on his trousers and looked back at the place through which he had come. "Well, well, well! You installed a real fireplace, just for Harry!"

Uncle Vernon muttered something about insurance and explosions, but Mr Weasley simply turned and beamed at Harry. "Sorry Harry but the rest couldn't come to pick you up. It's just you and me until we get back to The Burrow. Well, let's go."

Mr Weasley bent down and grabbed two of Harry's bags, and set them down in front of the fireplace. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a little bag of what Harry knew was Floo powder. Mr Weasley took out a pinch and put the bag down. "You take the rest, Harry, and I'll see you at home!"

Harry nodded and with a shout of "The Burrow!" Mr Weasley was scooped up into green flame and disappeared. Harry grabbed Hedwig and another bag and did the same, pausing only to take some Floo powder and yell, very clearly, "The Burrow!" before he disappeared as well into the flames.

He kept a tight hold on Hedwig and his bag as he spiralled and spinned out of control. Travelling by Floo powder always made him a little sick. Everything around him sounded weird and looked even stranger. He shut his eyes tightly and waited.

Then, all of a sudden, he felt his feet on hard ground and stumbled to a stop, opening his eyes. He found himself looking into the eyes of Fred and George Weasley, who took Hedwig and his bag off him, grinning all the while.
"Hi, Harry! Welcome back to The Burrow!"