Hogwarts a History – Otters can't catch what?
Chapter 01 – Hullo Harry Potter
…
Catch it. Gotta catch it. Can't catch it. Getting away. Go faster, gotta catch it. No good lousy snitch, get back here, won't snitch on me. Not listening, can't catch it. Gotta catch it. Can't catch it. You're an otter.
What? Otter what?
Harry drifted groggily into consciousness, the hard cold floor beneath him helping to clear his head. He wasn't an otter, that was his first realization. He wasn't at the Dursley's either, which almost made up for his not being an otter.
He was at the Burrow, in Ottery St. Catchpole. He was laying on the floor of Ron's room while Ron lay up in his bed, snoring like a weed whacker. Memories of the previous evening filtered in and he realized why he'd thought he was an otter.
Rather than going to sleep, he and Ron had stayed up much of the night talking. Not on purpose, it just sort of happened. It wasn't even about anything important. They'd reminisced on their big city adventure, discussed Quidditch, naturally, and somehow got into a debate over just why it was called Ottery St. Catchpole.
Harry was pretty sure none of their speculation was even close but it was still fun. After that the conversation trickled off and the next thing he knew he was an otter.
"But otters can't catch the pole," he snickered.
"Otters can catch wha?" Ron mumbled in his sleep.
Harry smiled at his friend and silently slid out of bed, not wishing to wake him. Slipping into his shoes he made his way downstairs as quietly as he could. No small feat as ever step and floorboard seemed to be working against his cause.
He arrived the kitchen to a most delicious assault. The scent flooded his nostrils, and the scent was glorious. Pots and pans sat unattended which seemed strange to Harry. Even in a magical household delicious food didn't just make itself. Did it?
Stepping off the staircase he heard the soft sound of voices and went to investigate. He found Mrs. Weasley standing at the kitchen door, talking to someone outside. He couldn't see who it was but it sounded like a girl and Harry was reasonably sure it wasn't Ginny.
"I really should have known they weren't Blumbul berries. Totally wrong season for them you know."
"Well I'm just sorry we missed you yesterday," said Mrs. Weasley.
"I was frightfully worried when I found the house empty," the voice said. "I thought the woozles must have gotten you."
"Oh?"
"I was already halfway through plotting my bloody vengeance when daddy suggested you'd just gone out for the day."
"Were you now?" Mrs. Weasley chortled.
"Oh yes. I'd already planned out exactly how I was going to assassinate their king while framing his right hand by planting evidence in his sock drawer. That's the first place they look you know."
The perfectly preposterous plot caused Harry to give himself away with a reflexive snicker, "Harry! Good morning. Oh Luna, you haven't met yet."
Mrs. Weasley gestured him over and Harry came face to face with a little blond haired girl. Her big eyes stared at him in a way that suggested utter shock, though her tone betrayed this impression, "Hullo," she greeted.
"Uh, hi," he replied, never very good when meeting new people, "I'm…"
"Harry Potter," she said.
Harry sighed, silly to think she wouldn't recognize him. Everyone else did.
"Or maybe you're Thaddeus Potter," she added.
"Huh? Who's Thaddeus Potter?"
"Harry Potter's secret twin and the real boy who lived," she said. "It's one of the theory's floating around. Tell me, have you secretly been training all your life to defeat the Dark Lord when he makes his glorious and bloody return?"
WHAT? "Uh, no, no I haven't."
"So you aren't in league with a secret cabal of war wizards ready to come at your beck and call."
"No, no war wizards." Just what were people saying about him?
"Then you haven't been engaged to marry the lost princess of Atlantis when she manifests herself to claim her kingdom?"
Harry gaped at the big-eyed girl who continued to rattle off the most absurd accusations he'd heard since learning he'd killed a dark lord at the age of one. Just who was this girl? And where the bloody hell was she getting her information?