You're a Muggle, Harry
Hey guys, just a little idea for a story that was floating around y head. Development for this will be slow, as "A Game of Shadows" takes precedence over this story.
Other than that, I hope you find this a little different.
Here's the obligatory disclaimer:
I do not own any of the Harry Potter Universe. It is all J.K. Rowlings. All of it.
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He twirled, pirouetting upon one foot, perfectly centred upon the hardwood floor that rested beneath his black leather shoes. His charcoal dinner jacket was buttoned closed with unadorned buttons, a white silk handkerchief arranged in his top pocket. A white dress shirt poked through, with a deep purple bowtie. Charcoal coloured pants completed the entire suit. With one hand, he grasped his dancing partner, who twirled, her charcoal and purple dress flowing around her body. Purple straps secured the dress to her shoulders. She daintily sidestepped a clumsy man, who had accidentally stumbled into their dance. The two partners quickly joined back together, the girls' head lightly resting on the boy's padded shoulder. They lightly swayed to the beat of the music, holding each other, savouring the moment they had together. She turned slightly and inhaled his cologne, while he got a good whiff of her cinnamon perfume.
So engrossed in their little routine, they hardly noticed the song change. Soon, other couples joined them on the dance floor, bopping away to the music. Her soft blue eyes gazed into his emerald orbs. He removed his hand from her shoulder and brushed away some silky blonde hair from her face. She wasn't the most beautiful girl in the world, but she had captured his heart. If one was being really critical, her face was a little too rounded, with the hint of some soft cheeks, with freckles lightly dusted under her eyes. Her eyes were maybe a little too elliptical, and the blue eyes were on the verge between blue and ice coloured. Her blonde hair complemented her, but her height worked wonders on the male species. She was just over 5'7, and fit right into her dance partner's 5'10 frame. They were certainly the most energetic couple there, that night, and it was one of their fondest memories together. They had been dating for a few months now, the boy had just turned fifteen a few days ago, almost three months into their relationship. Grace, the girl's name, was just slightly older than her partner, having turned fifteen a month earlier.
Both of them had agreed to dance off the end of the month together, showing off their newly learnt skills, gladly learnt from a ballroom dance school. They had enrolled, both excited at the prospect of learning to dance, separately, and had met in their first class. Grace had been drawn to the attractive, lithe teen in the corner, dressed in obviously second hand clothes, so she had moved over and engaged him in conversation. She had later found out that he had enrolled in the school under a fake name. She was shocked, to say the least. This only added to the mystery, the air of secrecy, that shrouded one James Thomas Evans, known to his friends and family as Harry James Potter.
She had been introduced to Harry's family due to the necessity of practising dance routines together. She got bad vibes from all of the family, who she classed as one of two creatures - one horse, introduced as Mrs Petunia Dursley, and two whales, introduced as Mr Vernon Dursley and Master Dudley Dursley. She hated everything about them. Their house was too neat, too ordered, and too plain. It resembled everyone other multi-levelled dwelling in the street, right down to the heights of the individual blades of grass of the strip out the front of their house, generously called a lawn. Even the roses were all the same height and shape and size. She hated the people in it, especially once she learnt that Harry only had one activity that he was allowed to participate in, that was not supervised by the family, or classed as "Too much fun".
She also discovered that the Dursley's were related to Harry, but we're not his parents (hence the different last name), as he was disowned by his biological family. She was horrified by that, but he seemed to accept it, especially as he had lived with the burden of being unwanted by either family for nearly fourteen years. Grace could also clearly see that he was ritually abused by beatings and verbal abuse, as well as the upkeep of the house was solely maintained by the single Potter of the household. It wasn't out of pity that she had started dating him, nor was it a sympathy vote. She recognised adversity, and the fact that he regularly overcame, it as adding to his "manliness" and desirability. She wanted a man who didn't buckle under pressure and had a quiet strength of character to him. She found it in Harry, he became her rock.
She didn't come without baggage. In a household of three children, and being the middle child she was often overlooked, but not neglected. Often she was just glanced over, not the prettiest of the children, not the smartest of the three and overall, not the nicest of the three daughters. Siblings being siblings often picked on each other, and she'd generally come off worse, with her two sisters joining forces against her. Because of this, her schooling had gone downhill as she slowly lost friends and respect due to her sisters. She was always in their shadows, and for years, it had deteriorated her self-confidence, self-esteem and she slowly sunk into an emotional low. Her parents had forced the dancing upon her, which she had become somewhat excited at, to introduce her to new friends and have some fun. Instead, she was introduced to the two loves of her life - Harry and dancing. She felt truly blessed.
Harry's POV
He sweated and toiled under the hot sun, weeding the garden in the backyard of #4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. It wasn't exactly the hardest job, but it didn't mean it was unpleasant. It was the only clear, hot day that England had experienced all summer, and it was an unusual scorcher of a day. He adjusted his hair, sweeping the sweaty, black bangs out of his eyes.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed, blood escaping from a small pinprick from a rose thorn. An answering cry of outrage was heard from the living room, as Uncle Vernon cursed his favourite football team for letting a goal be scored against them. A singular cloud drifted across the blue expanse above Harry's head, casting the garden and Harry into a welcome shadow, momentarily relieving Harry from the oppressive heat. Vernon poked his abnormally large head out the windows of the house, hollering at Harry to hurry up.
Not for the first time, Harry wished that magic was real. He could just wave his hand, like Merlin in the books he read when he was younger, and the chores would be done. He could gesture and food just appear, waggle his hand at his relatives and they would leave him alone. He wished he could teleport, so he could see Grace and spend some quality time with her, visit all parts of the globe that he had always wanted. He always wished for magic, rather than riches, because for some reason, he always felt that it existed. He could remember a time that he asked his Aunt and Uncle about it, when he first had encountered his "gift". From then on, he had been treated like dirt by his adoptive family, a complete turnaround from the life he had lived before then.
Flashback
For Dudley's eleventh birthday, the family was making a trip to the zoo, Vernon, Petunia, Dudley, Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss and Harry. Harry was looking forward to it especially. He had always wanted to go to the zoo, although he could never really tell you why. It was just a feeling, a deeply buried desire, for some reason. They had spent an exhausting day at the zoo, and with a few hours until closing time, they had yet to visit the Reptile House and the Nocturnal Animals. Harry really wanted to see the reptile house especially when presented with the alternative of the Nocturnal animals. As a group, they trooped over to the reptile house. They split, with the adults going one way, Harry going another way, and Dudley and Piers went in the complete opposite direction. It suited Harry well.
He immediately headed toward the snake enclosure, zeroing in upon a Burmese Python, which was having a snooze, draped over a low hanging fake branch. Harry studied the creature for a few minutes before heading to the next enclosure. Inside was a small garden snake. It was evidently either energetic or hungry, as it was racing around the glass cage in every direction. Harry stared at it, fascinated by both creature, and boundless energy it exuded.
*Stupid. Completely and utterly bonkers. God I hate this place* exclaimed a voice. Harry spun around and spied Dudley and Piers. He grinned internally at Piers, who he knew hated reptiles with an unparalleled deep-seated hatred. He also saw the young, chipped looking man who trailed behind the two boys. Harry had drawn in a sharp breath, for man positively glowed. It wasn't a direct light as such, it was like an aura hung around the man, hugging close to his form. Harry could also make out a reddish/gold colour that was centred upon the man's torso. Harry couldn't fathom why that was happening.
He quickly ran to Uncle Vernon and related his whole story to the slowly purpling adult. Vernon's eyes had narrowed drastically and he was gulping air like it was going out of fashion. It really didn't suit the larger man well at all. Harry was distracted from all the warning signs of an explosion of mammoth proportions though, as he craned his neck to study the mysterious glowing man. Harry was about to walk over to the man to inquire about the abnormality, but Vernon grabbed him by his neck with his meaty hands and held him in place. Vernon politely nodded his head toward the gentleman, then ushered the rest of his family and Piers out of the house, out of the zoo and into the relative safety of the car.
It was a very quiet car ride home. Vernon and Petunia kept nervously glancing at the raven haired boy, while Dudley and Piers kept whispering surreptitiously at each other. Harry ignored all other occupants of the car, in favour of working out the dilemma presented to him.
End Flashback
He hadn't understood the significance then, and still didn't, but it changed the Dursley's image of him. From then on he was ridiculed, mistreated and sometimes completely ignored. His notion of magic was beaten out of him by his obese Uncle, "Preposterous ideals, boy!" who Harry learnt still had muscle underneath all of that fat. Harry had learnt to never antagonise his family, and therefore the Dursley's made sure to remind him of the fact that he was nothing.
It had been that year that he was informed by Petunia that his parents had died in a car crash, and they, the Dursleys, "Are not allowing you to attend any funeral, it means nothing to us, and it should mean nothing to you, you abnormal little boy!" He had never gotten the chance to meet his real parents, nor see a photo of them. He didn't even know their names. That time had passed a long time ago, as he was forced to partake in menial labour in an attempt to make him forget about it all. The familiar ache travelled up and down his chest as he lusted after a pair of parents that cared for him, loved him as the son he was.