Hey! So this is the second story. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of JK's characters, only my own.
Chapter 1 - The Worst Birthday
Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.
To be fair, it wasn't just Harry's room, but his best friend Andromeda's room, too. They had been living with the Dursleys for eleven miserable years.
"Third time this week!" Vernon Dursley roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"
Harry tried, yet again, to explain.
"She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night -"
"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy moustache.
"Yes," Andromeda muttered next to Harry.
"I know what'll happen if that owl's let out."
He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.
Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley.
"I want more bacon."
"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance ... I don't like the sound of that school food ..."
"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"
Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry.
"Pass the frying pan."
"You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably.
The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.
"I meant `please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean -"
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE `M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"
"But I -"
"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.
"I just -"
"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"
Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.
"All right," said Harry, "all right..."
Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.
"You know," Andromeda said, picking up her bacon, "he did just mean 'please'. Matters exist, or so I'm told."
Ever since Harry and Andromeda had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating them like bombs that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy and Andromeda Black wasn't a normal girl. As a matter of fact, they were as not normal as it is possible to be.
Harry Potter and Andromeda Black was a witch and wizard - a witch and wizard fresh from their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have them back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry and Andromeda felt.
They both missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomach ache. They missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, their classes and teachers (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in their four-poster beds in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks).
All Harry's and Andromeda's spellbooks, their wands, robes, cauldrons, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomsticks had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry and Andromeda had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry and Andromeda lost their place on the House Quidditch team because they hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry and Andromeda went back to school without any of their homework done? The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world and even Andromeda's cat, Midnight, was to be confined to their room.
Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black moustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar.
Andromeda was not related to the Dursleys at all, which was evident with her long black hair, grey eyes and fair skin. Although she was able to change her appearances, a rarity even among witches and wizards, she did all she could do not look anything like the Dursleys. Most of the time, when becoming too angry or too sad, or even sometimes when she was bottling feelings up, her hair changed colours. They despised her power to change appearance, and it was Andromeda's favourite game to change her hair colour into the most absurd colours. Andromeda, too, like Harry, had a lightning-shaped scar, although it was on her left forearm instead of her forehead.
It was these scars that made Harry and Andromeda so particularly unusual, even for a witch and wizard. These scars were the only hint of Harry and Andromeda's very mysterious past, of the reason they had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before.
At the age of one year old, both Harry and Andromeda had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents and Andromeda's mother had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry and Andromeda had escaped with their lightning scars, and somehow - nobody understood why Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry and Andromeda, although only the Dursleys, Harry, and their friends Dorcas and Noah knew about Andromeda's scar and involvement.
So Harry and Andromeda had been brought up by Harry's dead mother's sister and her husband. They had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why they kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that they had got their scars in the car crash that had killed their parents.
And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry and Andromeda, and the whole story had come out. Harry and Andromeda had taken up their place at wizard school, where Harry and his scar were famous ... but now the school year was over, and they were back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.
The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake - but to ignore it completely...
Andromeda, on the other hand, had woken Harry up by jumping on him and singing him 'Happy Birthday'.
At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."
Harry and Andromeda looked up, hardly daring to believe it.
"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon.
Harry and Andromeda went back to their toast. Of course, Andromeda thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).
"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be -?"
"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."
"Good, good. And Dudley?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.
"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry and Andromeda. "And you two?"
"We'll be in our bedroom, making no noise and pretending we're not there," said Harry tonelessly.
"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them -drinks. At eight- fifteen -"
"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.
"And, Dudley, you'll say -"
"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.
"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.
"And you two?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry and Andromeda.
"We'll be in our room, making no noise and pretending we're not there," said Andromeda dully.
"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"
"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason ..."
"Perfect...Dudley?"
"How about -'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you."'
This was too much for Aunt Petunia, Andromeda and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry and Andromeda ducked under the table so they wouldn't see them laughing.
"And you two?"
They fought to keep their faces straight as they emerged.
"We'll be in our room, making no noise and pretending we're not there," they said in unison.
"Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you two and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten and be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow. Neither Andromeda nor Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. They didn't think the Dursleys would like them any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive. "Right - I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you two," he snarled at Harry and Andromeda. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."
The two of them left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. They crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench and stared at their surroundings. They gazed miserably into the hedge. It was Harry's birthday and not one present or card was sent to Privet Drive. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry and Andromeda missed their best friends, Ron Weasley, Dorcas Lupin, Noah Pettigrew and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing them at all. None of them had written to them all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry and Andromeda to come and stay. Even Dorcas, Noah and Andromeda's Uncle Remus had said they could visit on the holidays, but not one letter or invitation was sent their way. Countless times, Harry and Andromeda had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to someone with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry and Andromeda hadn't told the Dursleys this; they knew it was only their terror that they might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking them in the cupboard under the stairs with their wands and broomsticks. For the first couple of weeks back, Harry and Andromeda had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under their breaths and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Ron, Dorcas, Noah and Hermione had made Harry and Andromeda feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal - and now everyone had forgotten Harry's birthday.
What wouldn't they give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? They'd almost be glad of a sight of their archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream...
Not that their whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry and Andromeda had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry and Andromeda had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, they kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes
Andromeda suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. They had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge - and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.
She nudged Harry and they jumped to their feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.
"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling toward him.
The huge eyes blinked and vanished.
"What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.
"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.
"Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."
"Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"
"Better not let your mum hear you talking about our school," said Andromeda coolly.
Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.
"Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously.
"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Andromeda.
Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face.
"You c-can't - Dad told that you're not to do m-magic - he said he'll chuck you out of the house - and you haven't got anywhere else to go - you haven't got any friends to take you -"
"Jiggery pokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocus squiggly wiggly -"
"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! They're doing you know what!"
Harry and Andromeda paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew they hadn't really done magic, but they still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at their heads with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave them work to do, with the promise they wouldn't eat again until they'd finished.
While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry and Andromeda cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of their necks. They knew they shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing they had been thinking themselves... maybe they didn't have any friends at Hogwarts...
"He's wrong," Andromeda wondered aloud. Harry looked at her. "We do have a place to go. We have Ron's or Uncle Moony's -"
"And where are they?" Harry said. "They've forgotten us."
It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, they heard Aunt Petunia calling them.
"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"
Harry and Andromeda moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.
"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to four slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.
Harry and Andromeda washed their hands and bolted down their pitiful supper. The moment they had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away their plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!"
As they passed the door to the living room, Andromeda caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. They had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Remember, boy, girl - one sound -" Harry and Andromeda crossed to their shared bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on their bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.