Hi to everyone out there! ;)
This is the first fanfiction I have ever written and also the first one I`m posting here. This is the longest project I have worked on so far, it is not finished yet and I would greatly appreciate your opinions on this one. I`m not asking you to be nice, just be honest, please. ;)
It is heavily leaned on the books, especially the first two to three years as my main protagonist still spends a lot of time with Harry and their lives are basically the same.
Please let me know what you think of it and if I should continue! Thanks, guys! :)
I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does. I did create my OC though. :D
Enjoy!
Note: I have also posted the story on hexrpg. In case you find it there, that's alright (unless the author listed there is not called Elena Hopkins, that is). ;)
Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their niece and nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all.
The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed.
Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bonnets - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that two other children lived in the house, too.
Yet Harry and Valerie Potter were still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Their Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.
"Up! Get up! Now!"
They both woke with a start. Their aunt rapped on the door again.
"Up!" she screeched.
Valerie heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. She rolled onto her back and tried to remember the dream she had been having.
It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it and she had a funny feeling she'd had the same dream before.
Their aunt was back outside the door.
"Are you up yet?" she demanded.
"Nearly," said Harry who was lying next to his sister on the way too small bed.
"Well, get a move on, I want you two to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."
They groaned in unison.
"What did you say?" their aunt snapped through the door.
"Nothing, nothing..."
Dudley's birthday - how could she have forgotten?
Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where they both slept.
His sister, Valerie, on the other hand had never developed fond feelings for the little hairy animals. In fact, to even say that she was afraid of them would have been a vast understatement; Valerie was terrified of spiders.
In her opinion, there was nothing more frightening and disgusting anywhere on this planet than a fat, black, hairy spider.
Valerie waited until Harry was dressed before she, too, changed into her daily clothes; a mouse-grey skirt that was so long that it reached up to her chest and one of Aunt Petunia`s old blouses.
When she was dressed, they went down the hall into the kitchen.
The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents.
It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Valerie, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody.
Dudley's favourite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.
Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.
Being Harry`s twin sister, Valerie was of the same small, skinny built with the same unruly black hair and bright green eyes.
The only differences between them, apart from being of the opposite gender, were Harry`s terrible eyesight and the scar in the form of a lightning bolt on his forehead.
How her brother had gotten the scar, neither of them knew. Apart from what their aunt and uncle had told them about their parents` death, being that they both had died in a terrible car accident ten years ago, neither Harry nor Valerie had any knowledge about what exactly had happened that day. They simply had to accept what they were told and both had very quickly learned to better not ask any questions at all about their parents or their past.
Harry had had the scar as long as he could remember, and the first question Valerie could ever remember him asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.
"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."
Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.
Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.
"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.
About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way -all over the place.
It was easier for Valerie as Aunt Petunia simply braided her long black hair into long braids and did usually not comment on the fact that her hair, too, had a will of its own.
In fact, unlike her brother, Valerie was left alone by the Dursleys most of the time and she was glad for it since it meant that Dudley didn`t abuse her as his punching bag. She sometimes felt like a fly on the wall that went unnoticed by the others.
It was easy for her to listen in on conversations that were not meant for other ears to be heard. Even when Valerie was in the same room, people seemed not to notice her at all.
She didn`t understand it. How was it possible for anyone not to see her when she was so obviously in plain sight?
As usual, none of the Dursleys acknowledged her presence and she quietly sat down at the table as far away from Uncle Vernon as physically possible.
Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.
Maybe that was why Dudley loved to chase him around so much?
Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room.
Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.
"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."
Valerie refrained from rolling her eyes, knowing fairly well the consequences should Uncle Vernon catch the gesture.
"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."
"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.
Valerie and Harry, who both could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down their bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.
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, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right''
Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.
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.
At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Valerie, Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.
"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head in their direction.
Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Valerie's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry and Valerie were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away.
Valerie hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made them look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.
"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at them as though they'd planned this.
Valerie knew she ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when she reminded herself it would be a whole year before they had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.
"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.
Oh, no, Valerie thought in horror. Please, not Marge…
Aunt Marge was, if at all possible, even worse than Mrs. Figg could ever be. Where the oldy lady down the street was a cat lover, Aunt Marge bred dogs. Not the cute sort that made children`s hearts melt and that you'd want to pick up and cuddle - no, Aunt Marge bred bulldogs. Her favourite one being a nasty little creature by the name of Ripper who liked to chase them both around the house and their only way of escape was climbing up one of the trees in her garden.
"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the children."
The Dursleys often spoke about Harry and Valerie like this, as though they weren't there - or rather, as though they were something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like slugs.
"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 (they'd be able to watch what they wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).
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. "And I doubt that Val is going to either. Am I right, Val?"
She eagerly nodded and her eyes hopefully swayed from Uncle Vernon to Aunt Petunia, 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`re 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!" He shot Harry and Valerie a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.
Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother.
Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them.
Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.
Half an hour later, Valerie and Harry, who couldn't believe their luck, were sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in their life.
Their aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with them, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken them both aside.
"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."
"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly.."
But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.
The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and Valerie and it was just no good telling the Dursleys they didn't make them happen.
It was just Valerie`s luck, that Harry had most of the shouting and scolding directed at him – which, of course, was rather unfortunate for Harry who often wished it were the other way around. He also was the one who got the more severe punishments.
Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses.
Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off.
He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.
Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls) - The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.
On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid- jump.
Valerie, on the other hand, was ignored by most of the students at their school. They did, occasionally, laugh at her baggy clothing and hand-me-down school supply, but they never chased her around or bullied her.
Once, a few years ago, when it was their first week in class, a girl called Jenna Jerkins – a massive blonde with a face like a pig – had tormented Valerie in the school yard. Valerie, who had desperately wished to be invisible that day, was rather surprised when the other girl had suddenly lost interest in her newest hobby. Unfortunately, however, it seemed that – somehow – Valerie`s wish had been fulfilled as neither the students nor the teachers in class had actually been able to see her which, as a result, meant that she had been reported absent that day. Her aunt and uncle had both been notified of her bad behaviour and Valerie had spent the rest of the week in the closet under the stairs.
But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, their cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.
While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, Valerie and Harry 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 Valerie, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."
Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Valerie, his face like a gigantic beet with a moustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"
Dudley and Piers sniggered.
"I know they don't," said Valerie. "It was only a dream."
But she wished she hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than them asking questions, it was them talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon - they seemed to think Valerie and Harry might get dangerous ideas.
It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Valerie and her brother what they wanted before they could hurry them away, they bought them both a cheap lemon ice pop.
It wasn't bad, either, Valerie thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.
Valerie had the best morning she'd had in a long time. They were both careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favourite hobby of hitting Harry.
Valerie, who had no desire whatsoever to cause any sort of uproar on a peaceful and sunny day like this one, stayed behind with her brother and smiled at him happily. He returned the smile and took her hand in his.
At least, they both had each other.
They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry and Valerie were allowed to finish the first.
Valerie felt, afterward, that she should have known it was all too good to last.
After lunch, they went to the reptile house.
It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons.
Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.
Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.
"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.
"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.
"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.
Harry moved in front of the tank, Valerie followed slightly behind him, and looked intently at the snake. She wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least they got to visit the rest of the house. And there were two of them, whereas the snake didn't even have a companion.
The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.
It winked.
Harry and Valerie stared.
Then they looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. They looked back at the snake and Harry winked, too.
Valerie wearily eyed her brother. Had he, too, seen the snake wink at them? Obviously, he must have. Why else would he return the gesture? But snakes didn't just wink at people… At least not from what Valerie knew about those reptiles which was close to nothing – still, she was quite sure that it was something that was unheard of.
The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a strange look and Valerie could hear it hiss as if trying to tell them something.
And then, as if it was the most usual thing, Harry started to hiss back, making sounds similar to the ones the animal in the cage had just made.
The snake nodded vigorously. Not that snakes were capable of nodding but Valerie simply couldn't find any other words to describe it.
Valerie`s mouth fell open and she stared at her brother with wide eyes.
"Harry, what are you doing?" She whispered and took a step backward.
He ignored her and, instead, began to hiss again. She had to admit that it was a little bit frightening.
The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Valerie peered at it.
Boa Constrictor, Brazil.
Where they talking to each other?
The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Valerie read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo.
Again, Harry made some of those mysterious hissing-noises and the snake shook its head.
A deafening shout behind them made all three of them jump.
"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"
Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.
"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.
Harry sat up and Valerie gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.
As the snake slid swiftly past them, Valerie could have sworn a low, hissing voice before it vanished around a corner.
The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.
"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"
The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Valerie had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"
Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.
Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, while Valerie was forced to share the living room with her aunt and uncle. She was not allowed to see him.
To her great dismal, Uncle Vernon kept an annoyingly close eye on her.
"If I ever find out that you sneak food into that closet, girl," he hissed, his fat red face only inches away from hers. "You will never see the light of day again!"
Uncle Vernon hated Harry. Somehow, he`d found out that Valerie provided him with food during his prolonged stays in the closet which, in return, made him hate Valerie almost as much as her brother.
They'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as they could remember, ever since they'd been babies and their parents had died in that car crash. She couldn't remember being in the car when their parents had died.
Sometimes, when she strained her memory during long hours in their cupboard, she came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and the piercing scream of a woman. This, she supposed, was the crash, though she couldn't imagine where all the green light came from.
She couldn't remember their parents at all. Their aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course they were forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.
When she had been younger, Valerie had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take them both away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were their only family.
Yet sometimes she thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know them – or her brother at least. Very strange strangers they were, too.
A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to Harry once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything.
A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word.
The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Valerie tried to get a closer look.
At school, they had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang especially hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.
Since Valerie was related to Harry and wore equally baggy clothes, they also stayed away from her – if they weren't busy enough ignoring her, that was.
