This is my one and only disclaimer. I do not own Harry potter in any form, this is purely fanfiction. Also many of the jokes in this story are from Rifftrax, please check them out at . Oh and the wizard swears and name calling in later chapters is from Harry potter puppet pals. While this story isnt my best work it's finished work so if you dont like it than you dont have to read. Future Harry Potter storys will be more my take, i just felt like sharing the funny things others have managed to come up with... anyway please enjoy and no flames ^^
My names is Silvia, twin sister to a boy named Harry. Like all twins we have our similarities, the same black hair, the same sense of curiosity, we both hate our relatives, and we both wish to know more about our parents but that's where it ends.
Harry has perpetually untidy black hair, bright green eyes, and a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. He's small and skinny for his age with a thin face and knobby knees, and he wears round eyeglasses.
My hair is long and silky to the touch and my eyes are a steely grey color, odd since I never heard of anyone in our family having grey eyes. I'm slightly taller than Harry, thin, with over all elegant facial features, though it's all hidden by to large of clothes.
It's been a hard eleven years for both of us, and it's all because some moron left us to live at our Aunt and Uncle when we were not but a year old. I absolutely loath who ever thought this would be a good idea. Wait till I find the moronic idget and beat the holy ghost out of him.
Our life isn't much different from that of Cinderella's in the sense that we do the cleaning, the cooking, the serving, and we do it all without getting anything in return. We have never had a real birthday party just our little version of it, we barely get enough food to survive, and we sleep in a closet under the stairs. That's right we don't even get a room I would be happy even to share a room at this point. Just you wait, one day I Silvia Moira Potter will get back at them for all the pain they put me and my brother through… especially Dudley.
Thoughts assaulted my brain as I struggled to wake for my peaceful slumber next to Harry. There was something about today, but what was it?
"Up! Get up! Now!" a disembodied voice hollered followed by lots of banging.
"Up!" was screeched upon hearing no movement.
I realized that the voice belonged to Aunt Petunia, what a lovely old hag she is, has the manners of a cow and the looks of a giraffe, still I guess she's better than Uncle Vernon.
"Come on Silvia it's time to get up", said harry trying miserably to get me to rise from the bed.
"No, let them cook today. Lie back down and go to sleep" I mumbled still in a sleepy haze.
Just as I started falling back into the land of slumber it sounded as if a baby elephant was running down the stairs, dust falling from the ceiling of our closet room as it jumped up and down.
"Wake up cousins; we're going to the zoo today!" Nope it's worse than a baby elephant, it's our cousin Dudley and he's more like and elephant seal, looks and all.
"I hate that boy" I said smiling to harry as he made his way out only to fall back in, landing on me, after being pushed by the seal, I mean Dudley.
"I swear one of these days"
"Don't worry, I'm alright" he said rubbing his head as he noticed the glare stuck to my face.
"Ahhh!" someone screamed from the kitchen.
Harry and I rushed into the kitchen to see Dudley with a bowl of fruit on his head. A smirk crossed my face as Harry shot me a glare.
"Oh my poor duddikins, are you alright?" Aunt Petunia cooed to our cousin
"Silvia", harry whispered harshly
"What I can't help it if weird things happen", I whispered back
"They only happen when you're mad"
"And when your upset" I stated, slightly affronted
We stared at each other in a silent argument till Aunt Petunia said to us, "why don't you just cook the breakfast, and try not to burn anything. I want everything to be perfect for my Dudley's special day"
"Yes Aunt Petunia" we both chimed.
"Hurry up, and bring my coffee girl!"
"Yes Uncle Vernon" I sneered as I did as I was told.
Uncle Vernon reminded me of a brown haired Hippo; fat, disgusting, and mean.
I watched as Dudley looked at his toys in contemplation, the gears grinding from little use.
"How many are there?" asked the seal… I mean Dudley
"36, I counted them myself" said Uncle Vernon, proud of himself.
"I didn't know Hippos could count" I whispered to Harry. I could tell there was going to be a conflict, there's less this year then there was last.
"36?! But last year, last year I had 37!" shouted the enraged boy
Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger too because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, pumpkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"
Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work, I could see the smoke billowing from his ears. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…"
"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.
"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."
Uncle Vernon chuckled.
"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.
"Boy wants a friggin butt whooping that's what he wants" I mumbled quietly. "Harry I'm sorry, but I'm gonna hide in our closet till we leave. Don't worry the drinks are done for now"
"It's ok Silvia. It's better than you lighting the place on fire again"
"It was just the stove… and kitchen" I finished and walked off
I hadn't been waiting long when Harry told me we were leaving for the zoo. I didn't particularly wanna go but the Dursley's wouldn't allow me or Harry to stay alone and couldn't watch us. I remember how that played out quite vividly seeing as it happened just yesterday.
"Bad news, Vernon," said Aunt Petunia. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head in our direction.
Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but I could see that Harry was happy. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry and I were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there and I wasn't too particular about the place either. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made us look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.
"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at us as though we'd planned this. I knew I ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when I reminded myself that it would be a whole year before we had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.
"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.
"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates them both."
"What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"
"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.
"You could just leave us here," Harry put in hopefully
Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.
"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.
"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.
"I suppose we could take them to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "… and leave them in the car…"
"That car's new, they are not sitting in it alone…"
Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying — it had been years since he'd really cried — but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.
"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.
"I… don't… want… them… t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "They always sp-spoil everything!"
Ahh, the memories. As we walked out to the car Uncle Vernon pulled us to the side.
"I'm warning you now. Any funny business, any at all… and you won't have any meals for a week. Now, get in"
"I hate him too" I mumbled
"You hate everyone" replied Harry
"Everyone but you" I said giving him a side hug then pushing him toward the car.
While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Silvia, the bank, Harry and Silvia were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.
"… roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.
"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."
"Me too, it's always white with a side car."
Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at us, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"