Harry Potter the Real Story
Chapter 1: The Discovery
On a dull and sad Saturday morning, as what little light there was poured into Harry's bedroom, while a grumpy Uncle Vernon bellowed through the house, 'Potter get down here now and make my damned coffee boy!' but as usual Harry was already up and waiting for this call as he did every morning. As he got up and was about to go down stairs when he decided to take a look at his father's photo and compare it to his reflection, as he opened his cupboard to the mirror he had charmed to the door he raised the photo to shoulder height and realized that he didn't much look like his father at all. Harry decided that he just needed to wake himself up. As he went down stairs to the kitchen he found all the Dursleys waiting for him to make breakfast, which was odd because Aunt Petunia always made breakfast and he hadn't cooked since he was 11 years old.
'Goodness boy, you look like you just washed your hair with oil,' stated Uncle Vernon, this made Harry stop in tracks and considered what his uncle had said. No, no, it can't be, your just day dreaming, maybe you should cut back on the chocolate frogs before bed, yeah that's it, less frogs, thought Harry to himself as he shook his head and proceeded in making breakfast. The Dursleys on the other hand thought that Harry had taken offence to this comment and was about to blast them to smithereens, and Dudley had fallen to the floor and Mr and Mrs Dursley were trying to pick him back up but with no luck. Harry, who was cooking bacon and eggs, took the chance to sniggered at his aunt (who was a skinny woman and looked like she might blow away with the wind) and his uncles, (who is so big that if he jumped he might would throw the earth off orbit) futile attempts to pick up Dudley or, as he described at Hogwarts, the great whale. (Dudley himself is unaware that this is his nickname as is the rest of the Dursleys) Once Harry had eaten he went to have a shower, when he got into bathroom he ran his fingers through his hair and with a disgusted look on his face saw that he had enough oil in it to have used to fry bacon and eggs for the Dursleys for weeks. This isn't happening I just wash my hair last night, how could it possibly be this oily, thought Harry as he got undressed and into the shower. After washing his hair vigorously and satisfied with the result he decided that Dudley must have somehow crept into his room (if it was even possible for someone who had to go through door sideways) and put oil in his hair. He went back to his room and inspected his pillow. Definitely a lot of oil. After changing his pillow case, Harry went down stairs to go and sit in his favourite spot in the garden when...
'You still haven't washed that hair of yours I thought you just had a shower,' said Vernon as he realised what he had said and brassed himself for the worst.
'What are you talking about I did just wash it,' and he ran his fingers through his hair again and to his disgust it was oily again, if not even more oily than before. This is no good, he thought, I need to find out for sure.
'I'm going in to town, I need to check something,' he said as he strode out the door. Harry pulled his hood over his head as walked up the street, hoping that no one would notice his oily hair. As he arrived in town he strode quickly to St Mungoes Hospital once inside he went straight for the front desk.
'Excuse me, could tell me where I should go to look up my blood line?' the lady behind the desk, who was more interested with her nails, pointed over to a small room labelled 'Blood Testing'. He walked over and knocks on the door a cheery voice from inside called 'Come in'. When Harry opened the door he found a short woman, no taller than his charms professor, in a bright red lab coat with red shoes and red hair. 'Ahh, Mr Potter, I never thought I would be meeting you, unless this is just a check up,' she said with a smile that made Harry remember Umbridge; this sent a shiver down his spine.
'Umm, not really, you see I just want to see how much different my DNA is to my fathers.'
'Hmm, well I don't see why not it's not a crime to be suspicious,' she said as she got up and went to her store cupboard and came out with a syringe, 'my name is Mrs Mosques by the way.' She took blood from Harrys right arm and then put it into a small vile, then put a label with Harry Potter written on it.
'Well Mr Potter, that's that, I will do some research of our records and see if there are any differences between your blood and your fathers, aside from the usual, and I shall send you an owl with the results,'
'Okay, oh and I would prefer it if this stayed just between you and me,' he said as he left. When he got back to 4 Privet Drive he went to his room to count how many days are left until he could return to Hogwarts. Two weeks. When Harry looked out the window he realised how fast time had gone by and went down stairs for dinner.
Over the next week, Harry found that the less he washed his hair the less oily it got and decided to only wash it once a week. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had finally found a way to get Dudley off the floor, (who knew it only took two kilos of chocolate cake with sprinkles on top, it would seem he got hungry enough to, with the help of his father and mother, get up and waddle to the cake which he ate greedily) and now every time Dudley walks through the house it's like a mini earthquake, which Harry found amusing enough to tell his best friends Ron, who thought it was really funny, and Hermione, who thought it was really mean of Harry to be picking on him and should be encouraging him to lose weight. Yeah right like that's going to happen, he thought to himself, with that attitude Hermione wouldn't last one day here. On Monday Mr Weasley came to take Harry to get his Hogwarts things and then to The Burrow.
'Well, Harry I have to say it is good to see you again but I must say, excuse me if I'm being rude, but have you washed your hair at all these holidays?' asked Mr Weasley with a concerned look.
'Oh, yeah I have but since last week every time I wash it, it gets worse, like it gets worse than it originally was, which is really weird, but if I wash it once a week I shouldn't get too bad.'
'Really, Merlin's beard, that must be a hassle, well no doubt that everyone at The Burrow will ask the same thing so don't get to angry if you get asked the same question over and over, okay,'
'Okay,' sighed Harry as they arrived at The Burrow.