A/N - Stupid, stupid me! I should be focusing on my other stories, but... oh well, we'll see how this goes. It was a plot bunny that kept badgering me... Maybe it was a Plot Badger instead. So much more dngerous than its rabbit cousin.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this - And don't forget to REVIEW!
CHAPTER 1.
Harry's awakening was strange.
Not painful or uncomfortable, but definitely different.
Opening his eyes, Harry knew he'd been right and promptly shut them again with a moan, and taking a deep breath.
There was a new smell in the air; lush and fresh, a lingering moisture from the plants, and just describing the perfume; that lingered, hovering over Harry's nose, to be heavenly, would be the understatement of the century.
Those vines and flowers had also, without a doubt, not been there last night when he'd finally fell into exhaustion; after a heavy day filled with chores and that sun stroke he gained from hiding under the window sill, desperately trying to glean something, anything, of the Wizarding world through the television.
Harry raise his hands to gently massage his eyes, the holidays so far had not been the best, and it was just his luck that his birthday was the same – big changes always seemed to occur on this day.
However, it soon became apparent to Harry that laying around was not going to get him anywhere. His verdant irises soon fluttered into view and observe their surroundings.
The entirety of Dudley's Second Bedroom was covered in green. It was completely unrecognisable as the shabby, dull room with locks on the door and cracks on the window pane, it was before. Each inch, of both the walls and floor were carpeted in leaves and stems, twisting and creeping along; moving, snake-like, even as Harry looked at them.
Aunt Petunia was going to kill him.
Well, only if Uncle Vernon didn't get to him first.
Harry groaned as he shifted himself into an upright position, still holding his head as he wearily looked around.
The plants had grown everywhere, not an inch was uncovered.
And it soon became clear that it wasn't just the plants acting up.
A soft coo alerted Harry to Hedwig's presence on the corner of his bed.
"Hedwig," His voice was softened by the dryness in his throat, "How did you get in here? I thought you were at Ron's?" Harry tenderly stroked Hedwig's head as he spoke to her, and she in turn shuffled over to a small gap in the jungle that was Harry's room, where Harry could see the sun's early rays stream through the window.
"This is crazy, where'd all this come from?"
Several more hoots caught his attention as he turned towards a small flock of owls.
'Oh yeah, it's my birthday...I'm fifteen...'
It had been hard this summer to keep track of the time, as the days seemed to meld together, and with no information coming from his friends or Dumbledore. The only really...interesting, part of the holiday, was when Dudley came home screaming about ghosts one night after staying at Piers Polkisses for the day.
As if there'd be ghosts in Privet Drive.
Harry reached towards the plain brown owl first, it almost stood to attention before him, and bobbed its head as he removed the letter from Hogwarts off of it.
A sharp nip drew Harry's attention back to Hedwig, as she fluffed out her feathers; her talons offered a dead mouse to Harry, as she, as only she could, looked smugly towards the other owls and insistently thrust it into Harry's hands.
"Oh...wow...Thanks, Hedwig," Harry's smile was strained as he received the mouse. It wasn't the best birthday present he'd ever received, but it was the thought that counted, "Um...I'll just put it over here for safe keeping, alright?" Harry, very stealthily, threw the mouse into the heavy foliage that was the corner, never to be seen again.
Tuning back to the numerous owls awaiting him, Harry picked out the small excitable owl that was Pigwidgeon immediately, as he tottered and bounced towards hi, letter in claw.
Ron's letter was bound to cheer him up. As would the packages attached to Percy's rather pompous owl Hermes, the smells already alerting Harry to Mrs Weasley's wondrous cooking.
Harry moved slowly, but steadily through each of the presents and cards, the usual gifts of books, food and anything Quidditch related was gratefully received by Harry, who'd never really had much in the way of presents. The only odd thing from this encounter was that, every-time he approached one of the birds, they would preen themselves and bob their heads towards him, as if Harry had given them the greatest praise possible, just by acknowledging their existence.
It was very strange.
However, soon Harry heard the galumphing footsteps of his Uncle moving towards and then away from the bathroom, Harry knew he had little time to revel in the celebrations. And no time in which to remove the plants from his rooms. His uncle always went to the bathroom forty minutes before he had breakfast. On the dot. Every day. The routine seemed to soothe his Uncle's desire for normalcy.
Harry realised that the best situation he could hope for, was that his Aunt and Uncle had no reason to come into the room. Otherwise, he was doomed.
At least while he was there, thankfully Remus had told him that he was picking him up around eleven o'clock this morning. That meant Harry had to keep his room from them for...Harry checked his watch, it read seven in the morning – four hours, then. He had been planning to wile away the hours in the park, while Dudley was at the Polkisses' house, but his room now changed everything.
Harry stretched his legs out with a grunt, and then settled them on the cushioned floor. If Harry wasn't so terrified about what his relatives would have to say about them, Harry wouldn't actually have minded them. They were certainly a lot prettier, and warmer, than his old room used to be.
Having the thick leaves beneath him, Harry padded silently towards where his door used to be and thought about the problem. Since the door opened outwards, as long as he could reach the handle, there'd be no problem.
And there wasn't really, except the fact that some of the vines kept trying to crawl up his arms and round his shoulders, nothing that a quick shake didn't handle.
He nervously twisted his head round the door, on the look out for a horse, a walrus or a baby whale and upon, thankfully, not seeing them Harry rushed, soundlessly, to the bathroom. Opened the door carefully, and closed it in the same manner.
After relieving himself, Harry washed his hands and then, subconsciously, looked into the mirror, before looking back at his soapy hands.
He stopped suddenly.
He looked back up at the mirror.
Something had changed.
He looked the same, sort of.
His eyes, were still green, still unattractively wide, and tilted with long lashes, but they were...glowing. Harry didn't think that was normal, even in the Wizarding world. Especially, when he realised that he could see all of this clearly – without his glasses. He hadn't heard of anybody's eyesight correct itself before, just another thing to make him special.
His hair was still jet back and wild, but the tangles from before seemed to have reformed into thick curls, silky and shining. There was also a red hibiscus flower trying to make its home in the space between Harry's ear and face, and ivy was circled round his head and through his hair.
His face itself had changed the least. Its bone structure just as he'd always known it, his eyebrows and cheeks still arching and his lips just as they were before, but the skin covering them was golden and maybe just a touch smoother than they had been before. Harry was confused about that. He had been spending a long time outside, recently, in the boiling hot sun, but he'd always burned, never tanned, Harry decided he rather like this part of the change. Except for the glow. It wasn't as noticeable as his eyes, but still...it looked as if he'd been lit up from the inside.
He looked down to see his body had not changed, although it was still slightly glowing like the rest of his body. He was still skinny, with knobbly knees, and the muscles he'd gained from three years of Quidditch and a year of Tournament Trials were still there and filled out his form better, made him look healthier, than when he'd been living in his cupboard. He'd have rather have grown taller than glow. It made him look stupid. As did that infernal flower and ivy in his hair. With a grunt of pain, the roots seemed to have tangled themselves in his locks, he pulled the flower and vines out and then preceded to rip them to pieces, before flushing it down the toilet.
He looked silly enough without decoration.
The only question was, why had he changed, and was it a good thing...Only time would tell.
A/N - I believe if you're in the HP genre, you have to do a CREATURE!Fic, it's in the rules. Unwritten though they may be.
Sides, I like how this story is progressing and I'm trying my best not to make Harry either SUPER!, or too macho, or too effeminate. Because honestly, Harry isn't either. I also don't believe he'll ever be very tall, like some people make him. I mean, he has been starved/underfed and kept in a cupboard for most of his life, he's bound to have some physical issues.
Anyway, rant over. REVIEW! They make me write more.