Ok, this is just like a diary that Harry keeps during the course of his life and I'll make it funnier when they get older and the books stop and ectera. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (Or Twilight =[ unfortunatly. Enjoy all Harry Potter owns to J.K Rowling)

Harry's Diary

Timeline: (Chapter 2: The Vannishing Glass)

*PART 1*

Aunt Pertunia banged on my door this morning. Jesus! Can the woman bang any harder?!

I wanted to go into the hallway and bang her head agaisnt my door but resisted. I'd be grounded again and I didn't need that.

"Are you up yet?!" she snapped. "Nearly" I moaned, wishing she'd go away.

Then she reminded me harshly "Well, get a move on! I want you to look after the bacon! And don't you dare make it burn!" She warned.

I rasied my eyebrows until her voice went higher, like a schoolgirl dreaming of a guy she had a crush on. "I want everything to be perfect on Duddy's birthday."

I groaned and unfortunatly she heard me. "What did you say?!" she half shirked, like I was out of my mind of me or anybody hating her stupid fat pig of a son.

"Nothing, nothing" I replied dully. Today was going to be hell.

Crap, I thought. Dudley's birthday. How could I have forgotton?! I had no chance of avoiding my stupid aunt, uncle and cousin now.

I slowly got out of bed, looking for some socks, so my feet wouldn't get as cold as the kitchen floor was every morning. I brushed the spiders of a set and pulled them on.

I staighted my glasses, pushing them furthur onto my nose and opened the door and walked through the kitchen door at the end of the hallway.

There were loads of wrapped presents, all massive and bursting with as much pride as my dear aunt was.

I quickly counted them - thirty seven - who freaking gives all their time and money to go through this hassle!? Hmm - my aunt and uncle maybe?

Uncle Vernon looked up as I entered, glancing up from his newspaper briefly, not to say 'Good Morning' or 'How did you sleep?' like a mother or father would.

"Comb your hair!" he barked and returned his attention to his paper. I reached up to my black hair, it always annoyed him. Maybe because it was on my head?

I walked over to the cooker and turned it on, plonked the frying pan on the hob.

Then I got the bacon out of the fridge and got it out the packet. I was just turning the bacon over, when I heard a squeel and heavy footsteps. Dudley.

My fat and ugly cousin wasn't what you'd called good-looking. I'd call him bad-looking.

He was big and beefy, just like uncle Vernon with hardly any neck. Any neck he got was from my aunt who spent all her time, spying on the neighbours and gossiping.

If someone came up to me and asked for a brief description of him, I'd say that's impossible and that he looks like a pig in a wig.

Aunt Pertunia thought along the lines of an angel. Surely any other women would notice how ugly Dudley was!

My aunt was just blinded by the fact that I lived here as well, to all our displesure and that she did this to torment me. Stupid bitch.

While I was ranting to myself and spooning the eggs and bacon onto plates, I could hear what Dudley was saing to anut Pertunia. It was sulky Dudley time.

"Thrity-six" he finnished, looking up at aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon, "That's two less than last year."

"Darling" my aunt said, you could hear the forcefullness in her voice "You haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's under this big one from mummy and daddy."

Dudley was seeing red by this time. "Alright, thrity-seven then!" I could tell that I'd better scoff my food down before he turned the table over.

Aunt Pertunia, sensing defeat, gave up. "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today? How's that popkin? Two more presents. Is that alright?"

I wanted to yell at her. No it isn't bloody alright! I never get presents from you three scumbags! But I didn't as compared to Dudley, I was way more mature.

Dudley concentrated - ouch that looked like hard work for his dimwitted brain. "So I'll have thirty.....thrity...."

"Thrity-nine sweetums" said aunt Pertunia, smiling hopefully.

"Oh" Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest present "Alright then!"

Uncle Vernon chuckled. I hated the sound. It chilled me right to the bones. God, I hate to have him as my dad.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled his son's hair. I shuddered.

At that moment, the telephone rang. The amount of times, I wanted to grab the phone and answered it instead, was unlimited, but I was banned to do anything in this pit.

I wished I could leave here one day and never look back.

But that day seemed to grow furthur and furthur away each day.

Aunt Pertunia went to get it. Uncle Vernon and I watched Dudley as he opened the new racing bike, a cine-camera and a remote control areoplane.

Also sixteen new computer games and a video recorder.

He was halfway through ripping off the wrapper of a gold wristwatch when she came back, with a frown and anger written on her face.

"Bad news Vernon," she said. "Mrs Figgs's broken her leg. She can't take him" jerking her eyes and head to glare a death glare at me.

Dudley's mouth dropped open while my heart gave a leap of hope.

Every year on the dreaded day of doom (Today) I had been forced to be looked after by an old trout who lived a few streets away, named Mrs Figg.

She was a mad old woman who forced me to study photographs she had and kept of her many cats. I hated it and thats another reason why I hated getting up this morning.

"Now what?" aunt Pertunia snapped at uncle Vernon. When she pannicked, she always had a go at someone - usually me.

As usual, uncle Vernon became flustered and tried, like his son to think on the spot.

"We could phone Marge" he suggested. I shuddered again. Please no, I thought. She's worse than Figgy! But I was saved by aunt Pertunia.

"Don't be silly Vernon; she hates the boy!" Thanks for hating me Margie. I mocked thought.

They always acted like I wasn't here: which was good business. I couldn't stand being in the same room as them, let along speak to the vermin.

"What about whats-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?" Acess denied.

"On holiday in Majorca." she snapped back, making uncle Vernon slump in his seat.

"You could just leave me here" I blurted out without thinking. As per usual, aunt Pertunia swallowed her lemon. "And come back to find the house in ruins?" she screeched.

"I won't blow up the house" I muttered darkly. Annoyinly, my voice was quiet and despite putting as much venom into my voice as I could, I still sounded like a 14 year old girl.

They ignored me. Typical. "I suppose we could take him to the zoo..." she started again calmly "...and leave him in the car."

Vernon actully barked back now, nearly choking on his bacon, "That car's new: he's not sitting in it alone!"

We all heard a loud cry. Sure enough, Dudley was crying. No, I correct myself - PRETEND to cry, just so mummy and daddy could give him anything he wanted. Sadly no cigar.

His mother hugged him closely and shhed him while he wailed. "I....don't want ......him....to come!" he whined between fake sobs, which ALWAYS fooled them, even without tears.

"He...always...s-spoils...everything!" he shot me a nasty look from under his mother's arm. I growled quietly.

Thankfully - the doorbell rang. "Oh good lord, their here!" aunt Pertunia said franticly and jumped up to greet our guest - and a moment later, Dudley's mate, Piers Polkiss walked in with his mother.

Piers was a scrawny rat of a boy who I thought coudl live in the drains and sewyers under London.

He was the person who held people's arms behind their backs, while Dudley hit them. Charming.

Of course, Duddy stoppted pretending to cry imeadietly. Noo surpises there then.

To Harry Potter Fans, I'm sorry that I've made him sound a bit more .... teenagerly but this is how I think he might of looked at the Dursley's.

To Twilight Fans, I sorry this isn't at all related to Twilight. Read my other stories if you are searthing for things - this ain't it. Lol.

Next part will be out proberly this evening or tomorrow. Hope so!

If you review and notice spelling errors and puncuation all wrong - please don't review on them. I appreciate it but I'm learnig from my beta readers.

Please review the story - we aren't in an English exam (like I was the other day - soo boring you wouldn't belelive! 1 hour & 45 minutes to write an advert - come on!)

Thanks

x SkippySkip15 x