I'm re-doing this story a bit - Yes, again. Just so you know, this will eventually have slash and probably be Dark or Gray!Potters.
This story followers the idea that there was a 'Triplet Curse' - Trinus Vomica - and many magical triplet siblings were born. You'll hear about that in the next chapter.
For the first few chapters, this does follow the book almost exactly, except for the presence of triplets. Get over it - it's still supposed to be the same story :D
Feel free to review.
Chapter 1: In Which We Get Some Mail.
On the night of October thirty-first, 1981, in a perfectly normal neighbourhood, three babies were placed on the doorstep of a perfectly normal house by a not-so-normal man.
All over the country that night, these three children were being toasted and cheered, praised and celebrated, but they knew nothing of this.
They seemed like normal children, of course, except for the lightning-bolt shaped scars on their foreheads: one on the right side, one on the left, and one in the middle. These triplets, whose names were Ivy Lily, Beatrice Juniper, and Harry James Potter, were famous in the not-so-normal world, simply for the scars on their foreheads…
Over the next few years, Harry, Ivy, and Juni grew into rather extraordinary children – and not just because of all the extraordinary things that seemed to happen to them. They all loved to read – when they were able to sneak books. They somewhat enjoyed school – except for the fact that Dudley was always telling all the children that they were evil, and their Aunt and Uncle told the teachers that they were troublemakers, so they were hated by nearly everyone before the end of the first day.
Harry had very messy black hair and brilliant green eyes. He was very protective of his sisters, and for all his love of reading (though he preferred fantasy stories), he wasn't an amazing student, though he got all A's and B's. Ivy had very long, straight black hair and black eyes, while Juni had thicker, wavy, blood red hair that was the same length as her sister's, and brown-green eyes. The two girls were very pretty, but smart and could stand up for themselves. The triplets had a reputation for standing up for people in trouble, like those picked on by their Cousin Dudley's gang.
However, their talents and personalities were not at all noticed by their Aunt and Uncle…
"Up! Get up, you brats! NOW!" Came Aunt Petunia's voice through the cupboard door, along with a loud pounding, and Ivy, Juni, and Harry Potter all jerked awake.
Harry, who lay in the very front of the closet, sat up and pulled on clothes that were far too big for him – hand-me-downs from their cousin, Dudley – messing up his dark hair even further. Ivy, in the middle, sat as well on her bean bag chair, carefully stuffing several books under the mattress Harry used, before pulled on her own worn-out clothes, these from her Aunt. Juni, at the very end, crawled out from under the low point of the cupboard when the stairs dipped down, and began to dress hurriedly as well.
It's hard to imagine that three young children could share a ten-by-four closet, or that someone could treat good, respectful children like that, but that was the Dursleys for you. They had been reluctant as could be to take in their nieces and nephew, and never so much as bought them a pair of socks, let alone allow them a room. Ivy, Juni, and Harry slept in the tiny closet, then; Harry with the lumpy old mattress, Ivy taking the ripped bean bag chair, and Juni on a worn sleeping bag.
Ivy glanced as the tiny clock they had stolen from Dudley and repaired. It read 6:00am.
"Why is she getting us up so early?" the black haired girl moaned. "It's summer!"
"Don't you remember what day it is?" asked Harry sarcastically, pulling on his round glasses. "It's Precious Dudykins's birthday."
All three groaned in unison.
Every year, their Aunt woke them up even earlier than usual to make breakfast for their cousin's birthday. Dudley was very spoiled and rarely went without something he wanted, and on his birthday he got dozens of presents, most of which he broke within a week.
Horse-faced Aunt Petunia glared at them as they entered the kitchen to a horrible smell wafting from the sink. It looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.
"What's this?" Ivy asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did when one of them dared to ask a question.
"Your new school uniforms," She said.
"Oh," Juni said with no small amount of sarcasm. "I didn't realize they had to be so wet."
"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dying some of mine and Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."
The triplets thought this was unlikely, but they cooked the breakfast and tried not to think about the fact that they would be wearing bits of old elephant skin on their first day at Stonewall High. At least one good thing would come of going to this new school – the triplets would be away from Dudley all the time.
Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in at around eight, and made faces at the smell from the triplets' uniforms.
They heard the click of the mail slot and letters flopping onto the mat.
"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper.
"Make Harry get it."
"Get the mail, Harry."
"Make Dudley get it."
"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."
Harry dodged the stick and went to get the mail. Five things lay on the mat; a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was on vacation, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and – letters for the triplets?
Harry picked them up and stared at them, his heart twanging like an elastic band. No one had ever written to any of them before. Who would? They had no friends besides each other, no relatives…yet here it was, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:
Mr. H. Potter
The mattress in the cupboard under the stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
)(
Miss I. Potter
The bean bag chair in the cupboard under the stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
)(
Miss B. Potter
The sleeping bag in the cupboard under the stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
The envelope was thick and heavy, written on yellow parchment. The addresses were written in emerald ink, and there was no stamp.
Turning his envelope over, Harry noticed a wax seal of a lion, a badger, an eagle, and a snake, all around a letter H.
"Hurry up, boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" he chuckled,
Harry hurried into the kitchen, handing Uncle Vernon the bill and postcard, and his sisters their letters. They looked at him incredulously, and then started to open them.
Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and turned over the postcard.
"Marge is ill," He told Aunt Petunia, "Ate a funny whelk…"
"Dad!" Dudley said suddenly, "Dad, they've got something!"
Harry and Ivy were on the verge of unfolding their letter, which Juni had already done, when they were snatched out of their hands.
"Hey!" cried Ivy, reaching for hers.
"Those are ours!" echoed Harry.
"Who'd be writing to you?" Sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking a letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a traffic light. "P-p-p-Petunia!" He gasped, looking at her with wide eyes.
Dudley tried to grab the letter, but Uncle Vernon held them all high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.
"Vernon! Oh my goodness – Vernon!"
They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Ivy, Juni, and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.
"I want to read those letters," He said loudly.
"We want to read them," Juni said furiously. "As they're ours."
"Get out, all of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.
The triplets didn't move.
"Give us our letters!" cried Harry.
"Let me see it!" Dudley demanded.
"Interfering with mail is illegal." Reminded Ivy angrily.
"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he grabbed two wrists in each hand and threw the children into the hall, slamming the door after them. Dudley and the triplets promptly scrabbled to see who would listen at the door. By sheer strength of numbers, Dudley ended up on the floor, listening at the crack. Juni, who had the best hearing, got the top half of the door crack, Ivy the bottom, and Harry pressed his ear to the keyhole.
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "Look at the addresses – how could they possibly know where they sleep – and which bed as well? You don't think they're watching the house?"
"Watching – spying – might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.
"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want – "
"No," said Uncle Vernon after a minute. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer….yes, that's best…we won't do anything…"
"But – "
"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia, let alone three! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out all that dangerous nonsense?"
That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before: he visited the triplets in their cupboard.
"Where's our letters?" demanded Harry the moment he had squeezed through the door.
"Who's writing to us?" Ivy echoed.
"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I've burned it."
"It was not a mistake," Juni said angrily, "It had our cupboard on it."
"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.
"Er – yes, Harry, Ivy, Juni – about this cupboard. Your Aunt and I have been thinking…you're really getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice it you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Don't ask questions!" snapped their Uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."
The Dursley house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took the triplets one trip upstairs to move everything they owned from the cupboard.
Aunt Petunia went to the store and came back with several large plastic boxes, which she stuffed all of Dudley's things into that were in the second room – most of it broken – but luckily she ignored the bookshelf, which had never been touched and held some items of interest to the triplets. She also bought some pillows and blankets for the three children – albeit from a second-hand store, but at least they were clean – and Uncle Vernon assembled a bunk bed set he had bought from a garage sale.
When they were done, they room actually looked fit for three ten year olds to inhabit: the bunk bed was against the wall by the window, the other bed that had already been in the room was pushed to the wall where the desk was, with the desk and bookshelf one either side. There was only one wardrobe in the room, but Ivy, Juni, and Harry didn't have many clothes as it was.
They reflected that yesterday they'd have given anything to be up here, but today they'd rather be in their cupboard with the letters. Sigh.
The next morning at breakfast, Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with the Smelting's stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his second bedroom back. Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and wishing he'd opened the letters in the hall. His sisters were thinking the same thing. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.
When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to the triplets, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting's stick all the way down the hall. Suddenly he shouted, "There's another one! Mr. H. Potter the smallest bed, the smallest bedroom, Miss I. Potter, the top of the bunk bed, the smallest bedroom, Miss B. Potter, the bottom of the bunk bed, the smallest bedr – "
With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt up from his seat and ran down the hall, the triplets' right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letters from him, which was made more difficult by the fact the Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon from behind around the neck, Ivy had grabbed his feet, and Juni bit his arm. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting's stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with all three letters clutched in his hand.
"Go to your cupboard – I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed to Ivy, Juni, and Harry. "Dudley – go – just go."
"They know we've moved from the cupboard," Ivy said.
"And they know we didn't get the first letter," added Juni.
"So that means they'll try again, right?" asked Harry.
"They have to," agreed Ivy. "They won't give up this easy, I bet, whoever they are."
"We have to help them this time," said Juni. "But what can we do?"
They all thought for a second. Juni was hanging upside down from the top bunk, Ivy was sitting in her bean bag chair – which she had repaired with some needle and thread she'd found – and Harry was pacing.
"I've got it!" he suddenly told his sisters.
The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and they got dressed silently. They mustn't wake the Dursleys. They stole downstairs without turning on any lights.
They were going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. Their heats hammered as they crept across the dark hall toward the front door –
"AAAAARRRRRGGHHH!"
Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat – something alive!
Lights clicked on upstairs, and to the triplets horror, they realized that Harry had stepped on Uncle Vernon. He had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure they wouldn't do exactly what they'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry and his sisters for half an hour, then told them to go make some tea. They shuffled miserably off to the kitchen and by the time they got back, the mail had been delivered right into Uncle Vernon's lap. They could see at least a dozen letters addressed in green ink.
Before they could speak, Uncle Vernon began tearing them into pieces.
Uncle Vernon stayed home that day and nailed up the mail slot.
On Friday, no less than thirty letters arrived for the triplets. As they couldn't go through the mail slot, they had been pushed under the door, through the sides, and some were even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.
Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could get out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.
On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Forty eight letters to Ivy, Juni, and Harry had found their way into the house by way of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had passed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon mad furious calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.
"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Dudley asked the triplets in amazement.
On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.
"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "No damn letters today, no sir, – "
Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply in the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Ivy, Juni, and Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one.
"Out! OUT!"
Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and through him into the hall, followed by Ivy and then Juni. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley ran out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.
"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly and pulling chunks out of his moustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"
He looked so dangerous with half his moustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the front seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.
They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.
"Shake 'em off….shake 'em off…" He would mutter whenever he did this.
They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall, Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up aliens on his computer.
Uncle Vernon finally stopped at a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley, Harry, Ivy, and Juni shared a room with two full beds and damp sheets. Dudley snored through the night but the triplets stayed awake – the better to sleep in the car the next day – and stared out the window, wondering…
They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next morning. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.
"'Scuse me, but is any of you Mr. H. Potter, Miss I. Potter, or Miss. B. Potter? Only I got abou' a 'undred of these at the front desk."
She held up three letters.
Mr. H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth
Miss I. Potter
)(
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth
)(
Miss B. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth
Harry, Ivy, and Juni all made a grab for the letters, but Uncle Vernon knocked their hands away.
"I'll take them," he said while the woman stared, and followed her out of the dining room.
"Wouldn't it be better to just go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.
"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully, late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.
It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley shivered.
"It's Monday," He told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."
Monday. This reminded the triplets of something. If it was Monday – and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television – then tomorrow, Tuesday, was their eleventh birthday. Of course, their birthdays were never exactly fun – last year, the Dursleys had given Ivy a broken pencil, Juni a coat hanger, and Harry a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks. Still, you weren't eleven every day….
Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He carried a long, thin package, and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked him what he'd brought.
"Found the perfect place!" He said. "Come on! Everyone out!"
It was very cold outside. Ivy's and Juni's long hair whipped in the freezing wind, hitting Harry and Dudley in the face. Uncle Vernon pointed out at a miserable shack on a rock out in the sea. It was freezing in the boat; icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks. Halfway cross, they were soaking wet. The sea water burned their eyes, and the triplets curled up together, trying to keep warm. It seemed like hours until they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.
The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms: a living room, containing the empty fireplace, a sofa, and a battered wooden table. The other room was a bedroom with single bed and two side tables.
Uncle Vernon's 'rations' turned out to be a bag of chips and a banana each. He tried to start a fire, but the empty chip bags just smoked and shrivelled up.
"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" He said cheerfully, his right eye twitching a bit.
He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. The triplets privately agreed, but it didn't cheer them up at all.
As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry, Ivy, and Juni were left to put on all the clothes they could find and curl up together under the most ragged blanket.
They couldn't sleep. The lightened dial of Dudley's watch told them that they would be eleven in ten minutes.
Ivy, who, as stated, loved to draw, traced a birthday cake in the grimy floor, writing HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY, IVY, AND JUNI on the side, so they could pretend to blow out the candles at midnight.
Five minutes to go. They heard something creak outside.
"I hope the roof doesn't fall in," said Juni nervously.
"We might be warmer if it does," Harry countered grimly.
Four minutes to go.
"Maybe by the time we get back, Privet Drive will be so full of letters, we'll be able to sneak one," hoped Ivy.
Three minutes to go.
"Is that the water?" whispered Juni, hearing a slapping noise outside.
"What's that noise?" gasped Harry, hearing a crunching noise outside. The triplets curled up fearfully together. Maybe someone would kidnap them? They couldn't be worse than the Dursleys…
One minute to go and they'd be eleven. Thirty seconds….twenty….ten…nine…maybe they'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him…three….two…they leaned forward to blow out the fake candles….
BOOM.
The whole shack shivered. Harry, Ivy, and Juni sat bolt upright. Someone was outside.