The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy
silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive ... The only
person left outside was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back on a
flowerbed outside number four. He was sucking on the end of a flower. His
jet-black hair was blowing over his face in the hot wind, and every now and
then his bangs would blow aside to reveal a lightning shaped scar, set on
his forehead above emerald green sparkling eyes.
This boys' name was Harry James Potter. He was a wizard and fresh out of his fourth, and most dreadful year yet, year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Maybe fresh was the wrong world, because this boy felt anything but fresh ... no he wasn't feeling fresh, he was feeling guilty, angry and even a little worried. Harry wasn't normal. There was no denying it, he was in fact one of the most unusual people on this whole planet, which just happened to be earth. Harry was the only person, magical or not, to survive the Avada Kedavra killing curse. Because of this, he was famous. He was also famous for being the downfall of the Dark Wizard Voldemort, who killed his parents when he was a year old before turning his wand on Harry. But as we all know, the curse backfired, leaving baby Harry with only a big gash across his forehead and ripping Lord Voldemort from his body, but unfortunately, he was also left as an orphan.
Harry lived with the Dursley family, who, coincidently, lived at number four Privet Drive, where Harry was lying in the flowerbed. The Dursleys, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley, hated magic. They loathed everything to do with it, therefore, they hated Harry also. He was about as welcome in the Dursley house-hold as a snake. Not that Harry minded snakes, no, infact he could even talk to the little buggers, but that wasn't the point, the Dursleys wouldn't welcome a snake in their home.
Now, back to why Harry was lying in a garden bed on that hot summer day. It was because he wasn't allowed inside after breaking a plate on the kitchen tiles. If this was any other person, save perhaps another wizard or witch, the Dursleys wouldn't have minded, but that just goes to show how welcome Harry actually was in that dratted place.
Harry stretched, the sun was almost completely gone now, and he was tired. You may ask why he doesnt stay lying down on those comfortable sticks and flowers, and I will tell you why. It is because Harry doesn't want to fall asleep in the garden bed incase Voldemort decides to take a night time stroll. Ofcourse, if Voldemort was to do that, it most probably wouldn't be classified as a stroll... No, it would more likely be a mission to destroy the-boy-who-lived, who just happened to be the person lying, now stretching, in the flowerbed.
Getting up and rubbing his eyes Harry looked cautiously up to the house. The lights had just flickered on inside and Harry could hear the TV blaring. As cautiously as he could, as though he might attract Voldemort who was some thousands of miles that-a-way, Harry walked up to the front door, away from the poor flowerbed.
The actual reason he was walking cautiously was actually because he didnt want the Dursleys to have a chance to tell him to get lost until he was atleast at the door, I mean, how unfair would that be, not even to the door.
"Knock Knock!" Harry called, in his low voice, which was only slightly lower than the year before that, because it had cracked. He heard the scuffling of feet and Aunt Petunia's face poked out the door. No, it hadn't literally gone through the door, only ghosts could do that, it had peeped outside once she had opened it a crack.
"What do you want?" She asked icily. Harry glared at her, he really didnt need this poop.
"I want to come inside, if you don't mind Aunt Petunia." Harry said in a sickly sweet, yet very false, voice. Not that Aunt Petunia could tell it was false, her brain wasn't large enough. Actually, I'm not saying that horses aren't smart but ... Petunia Dursley looked like a horse, well... Her face did anyway. She was bony and had a long, long neck, which was alright because she could always lend some to Uncle Vernon if he needed some, afterall, he had very little neck. Back to the front door, anyway.
"Alright. Get in. But next time, rest assured I will throw you out for good." Petunia said, in that same, icy, Petunia Dursley voice of hers. Well, dont get me wrong, ofcourse it was Petunia Durlsey's, it couldnt not be. But what I mean is, only Petunia Dursley could get her voice like that. Actually. I imagine Voldemort could, I might have to start calling him Aunt Petunia in the future.
Harry stepped across the thresh hold of the Dursley house-hold with one last look at that comfortable flowerbed. It looked so peaceful, just lying there, on it's own, not a care in the world, apart from getting a haircut anyway.
"Do I get dinner?" Harry asked his Aunt. He really hoped he could, afterall, he had been too busy lying in the flowerbed to have lunch, well, that was after he broke the plate at lunch time.
"Yes. It is on the table." Petunia snapped. "Not get out of the way so I can shut the door." She added, and Harry, who realised he hadn't moved from the door-frame over-looking the flowerbed, stepped out of the way.
"And after you have finsihed that..." Petunia added, a maniac smile on her horsey features. "You can do the... washing up."
Now, either it was Harry's imagination, by the smirk on his Aunt's face, she had definately hexed the dishcloth to bite, or as I said before, it was Harry's imagination.
Harry sat down at the Table and looked at the pathetic "meal" that was before him. "Do you expect me to eat this?" Harry asked, it didn't look too good. He looked up at Uncle Vernon who was watching to TV while also reading the Evening Newspaper while also eating his tea while also looking at Harry while also nodding his head in agreement to Harry's statement.
He quickly pulled the flower that he realised he had been sucking on this whole time out of his mouth and picked up what looked suspiciously like moudly bread and hairy peanut butter. "Well thank you." Harry said saracstically. "You are so kind."
Uncle Vernon smirked and went back to watching the paper while eating the TV and reading his tea. He truly was a crazy man, and boy did Harry know it. He had to live with him for fourteen years now.
So, munching away on his mouldy bread and hairy peanut butter, Harry decided to ask his Uncle something he had been meaning to for a while. Actually, it was only a day, he had gotten his supplied list yesterday after all.
"Um... Uncle Vernon, you wouldn't be able to drop me off at London tomorrow would you? Or sometime soon atleast." He asked slowly, as though talking to a thick beast that was about to pounce any second now... yep, any second now...
"AND WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?" Uncle Vernon yelled, it was close to poucing. Have you ever heard the concept of a pounce? I might have to tell you one day. (Though I do not know.) "A TAXI DRIVER?"
He would make a good one, I guess, after all, all he does is sit around all day anyway. And honestly, apart from the Masons who would want to by drills from Uncle Vernon's drill company, drills are boring. "No Uncle Vernon, I take you for a director of a very stable and liable firm called Grunnings." Harry lied, ofcourse, Uncle Vernon didnt know it was a lie, he was a little on the slow side for that, in fact, Harry decided he would one day introduce Vernon and Petunia to Crabbe and Goyle, even if they wer muggles, and Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, were wizards, Maybe they would finish each other off. "I will just go and finish the letter to my gofather..." that I didnt even start.' Harry finished in his mind.
Did you know that a man's face could go all the colours of the rainbow in a second? I didnt either, until Uncle Vernon's usually purple face did it just then. "Alright. You writing to him." Harry nodded. "I will take you, but onle because... er... only because I have to go to the dentist." Uncle Vernon lied, and Harry new he was lying because well, just before Harry had been thrown out of the house and into the flowerbed, Vernon had gone to the dentist, but who was Harry to kick a gift horse in the teeth? Then again, maybe Harry would do that, afterall, Aunt Petunia gave Harry atleast a tooth pick for christmas, and that was a girft, and she was a horse... So yes, he would kick a gift horse in the mouth, if it's name was Petunia Evans-Dursley.
So Harry walked up stairs and got into bed, it definately wasn't as comfortable as the Flowerbed down in the garden, but Harry was used to it, and he fell asleep quite nicely thankyou very much...
This boys' name was Harry James Potter. He was a wizard and fresh out of his fourth, and most dreadful year yet, year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Maybe fresh was the wrong world, because this boy felt anything but fresh ... no he wasn't feeling fresh, he was feeling guilty, angry and even a little worried. Harry wasn't normal. There was no denying it, he was in fact one of the most unusual people on this whole planet, which just happened to be earth. Harry was the only person, magical or not, to survive the Avada Kedavra killing curse. Because of this, he was famous. He was also famous for being the downfall of the Dark Wizard Voldemort, who killed his parents when he was a year old before turning his wand on Harry. But as we all know, the curse backfired, leaving baby Harry with only a big gash across his forehead and ripping Lord Voldemort from his body, but unfortunately, he was also left as an orphan.
Harry lived with the Dursley family, who, coincidently, lived at number four Privet Drive, where Harry was lying in the flowerbed. The Dursleys, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley, hated magic. They loathed everything to do with it, therefore, they hated Harry also. He was about as welcome in the Dursley house-hold as a snake. Not that Harry minded snakes, no, infact he could even talk to the little buggers, but that wasn't the point, the Dursleys wouldn't welcome a snake in their home.
Now, back to why Harry was lying in a garden bed on that hot summer day. It was because he wasn't allowed inside after breaking a plate on the kitchen tiles. If this was any other person, save perhaps another wizard or witch, the Dursleys wouldn't have minded, but that just goes to show how welcome Harry actually was in that dratted place.
Harry stretched, the sun was almost completely gone now, and he was tired. You may ask why he doesnt stay lying down on those comfortable sticks and flowers, and I will tell you why. It is because Harry doesn't want to fall asleep in the garden bed incase Voldemort decides to take a night time stroll. Ofcourse, if Voldemort was to do that, it most probably wouldn't be classified as a stroll... No, it would more likely be a mission to destroy the-boy-who-lived, who just happened to be the person lying, now stretching, in the flowerbed.
Getting up and rubbing his eyes Harry looked cautiously up to the house. The lights had just flickered on inside and Harry could hear the TV blaring. As cautiously as he could, as though he might attract Voldemort who was some thousands of miles that-a-way, Harry walked up to the front door, away from the poor flowerbed.
The actual reason he was walking cautiously was actually because he didnt want the Dursleys to have a chance to tell him to get lost until he was atleast at the door, I mean, how unfair would that be, not even to the door.
"Knock Knock!" Harry called, in his low voice, which was only slightly lower than the year before that, because it had cracked. He heard the scuffling of feet and Aunt Petunia's face poked out the door. No, it hadn't literally gone through the door, only ghosts could do that, it had peeped outside once she had opened it a crack.
"What do you want?" She asked icily. Harry glared at her, he really didnt need this poop.
"I want to come inside, if you don't mind Aunt Petunia." Harry said in a sickly sweet, yet very false, voice. Not that Aunt Petunia could tell it was false, her brain wasn't large enough. Actually, I'm not saying that horses aren't smart but ... Petunia Dursley looked like a horse, well... Her face did anyway. She was bony and had a long, long neck, which was alright because she could always lend some to Uncle Vernon if he needed some, afterall, he had very little neck. Back to the front door, anyway.
"Alright. Get in. But next time, rest assured I will throw you out for good." Petunia said, in that same, icy, Petunia Dursley voice of hers. Well, dont get me wrong, ofcourse it was Petunia Durlsey's, it couldnt not be. But what I mean is, only Petunia Dursley could get her voice like that. Actually. I imagine Voldemort could, I might have to start calling him Aunt Petunia in the future.
Harry stepped across the thresh hold of the Dursley house-hold with one last look at that comfortable flowerbed. It looked so peaceful, just lying there, on it's own, not a care in the world, apart from getting a haircut anyway.
"Do I get dinner?" Harry asked his Aunt. He really hoped he could, afterall, he had been too busy lying in the flowerbed to have lunch, well, that was after he broke the plate at lunch time.
"Yes. It is on the table." Petunia snapped. "Not get out of the way so I can shut the door." She added, and Harry, who realised he hadn't moved from the door-frame over-looking the flowerbed, stepped out of the way.
"And after you have finsihed that..." Petunia added, a maniac smile on her horsey features. "You can do the... washing up."
Now, either it was Harry's imagination, by the smirk on his Aunt's face, she had definately hexed the dishcloth to bite, or as I said before, it was Harry's imagination.
Harry sat down at the Table and looked at the pathetic "meal" that was before him. "Do you expect me to eat this?" Harry asked, it didn't look too good. He looked up at Uncle Vernon who was watching to TV while also reading the Evening Newspaper while also eating his tea while also looking at Harry while also nodding his head in agreement to Harry's statement.
He quickly pulled the flower that he realised he had been sucking on this whole time out of his mouth and picked up what looked suspiciously like moudly bread and hairy peanut butter. "Well thank you." Harry said saracstically. "You are so kind."
Uncle Vernon smirked and went back to watching the paper while eating the TV and reading his tea. He truly was a crazy man, and boy did Harry know it. He had to live with him for fourteen years now.
So, munching away on his mouldy bread and hairy peanut butter, Harry decided to ask his Uncle something he had been meaning to for a while. Actually, it was only a day, he had gotten his supplied list yesterday after all.
"Um... Uncle Vernon, you wouldn't be able to drop me off at London tomorrow would you? Or sometime soon atleast." He asked slowly, as though talking to a thick beast that was about to pounce any second now... yep, any second now...
"AND WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?" Uncle Vernon yelled, it was close to poucing. Have you ever heard the concept of a pounce? I might have to tell you one day. (Though I do not know.) "A TAXI DRIVER?"
He would make a good one, I guess, after all, all he does is sit around all day anyway. And honestly, apart from the Masons who would want to by drills from Uncle Vernon's drill company, drills are boring. "No Uncle Vernon, I take you for a director of a very stable and liable firm called Grunnings." Harry lied, ofcourse, Uncle Vernon didnt know it was a lie, he was a little on the slow side for that, in fact, Harry decided he would one day introduce Vernon and Petunia to Crabbe and Goyle, even if they wer muggles, and Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, were wizards, Maybe they would finish each other off. "I will just go and finish the letter to my gofather..." that I didnt even start.' Harry finished in his mind.
Did you know that a man's face could go all the colours of the rainbow in a second? I didnt either, until Uncle Vernon's usually purple face did it just then. "Alright. You writing to him." Harry nodded. "I will take you, but onle because... er... only because I have to go to the dentist." Uncle Vernon lied, and Harry new he was lying because well, just before Harry had been thrown out of the house and into the flowerbed, Vernon had gone to the dentist, but who was Harry to kick a gift horse in the teeth? Then again, maybe Harry would do that, afterall, Aunt Petunia gave Harry atleast a tooth pick for christmas, and that was a girft, and she was a horse... So yes, he would kick a gift horse in the mouth, if it's name was Petunia Evans-Dursley.
So Harry walked up stairs and got into bed, it definately wasn't as comfortable as the Flowerbed down in the garden, but Harry was used to it, and he fell asleep quite nicely thankyou very much...