Harry Potter and the
Ch1: The Forgotten Guest
It was a gloomy day, on the flawless street of privet drive. Every house was identical, a Utopia, almost. Only it wasn't full of perfect people. It was full of conceded rich people, and bullies who hung out with Harry's cousin. At least it seemed like it. Everyday with Harry's Uncle, Aunt, and cousin was a gloomy day. And, ever since the mysterious death of Harry's god-father, Sirius, it was even worse. If Sirius hadn't died, Harry would've been living with him on number 12 Grimmauld place.
When Harry finally had a chance to live with Sirius, he sadly passed away. Sirius had fallen behind a veil in the Ministry of Magic. Harry had spent months recollecting what had happened that day. Yet, he still didn't understand why going beyond a simple veil, almost a curtain, could kill someone.
Harry being forbidden, to study magic, he sat tired of his boring life, basically trapped in a small room, for 8 weeks.
Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. Harry had tried to start his essay on Pensieves, when he was interrupted by his dopey cousin, Dudley.
"Set, the table, you good for nothing spoiled ass!" Dudley shouted from behind the door.
Harry just rolled his head back, and chuckled as he heard Dudley call him "a spoiled ass"
"I'm coming!" To get the good of bad times, Harry crept over to the door and swung it open. Dudley yelped as it hit him in the face.
"Why I oughta!" Dudley began. Quickly he whipped up some tears, so Uncle Vernon could scold Harry, for not even knowing what was going on. "Mum! Dad! Harry hurt me!" Dudley ran down stairs whining. Harry had gone through it all, shouting, beatings, insults. So, he just chortled at what he was in for.
He walked downstairs with his hands in his pocket.
"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" Uncle Vernon sneered.
"Setting the table,"
"One more smart-ass remark from you, I'll lock you in the cupboard under the stairs again."
Harry shrugged, and walked to the kitchen preparing to set the table. He reached for the basic silverware they used every night, when his Aunt Petunia slapped his hand with a spatula.
"No, we are using the good silverware tonight."
This was all news to Harry. Why were they using the good silverware. The only time they used it was when guests were coming. Harry's eyes widened, he had suddenly remembered his Aunt Marge was coming in from Manchester.
Last time he saw Aunt Marge he turned her into hot-air balloon. After that, she refused to come over again, unless he wasn't there. Uncle Vernon negotiated with her, and told her Harry went back to the military school for extended training.
That was fine with Harry, at least she wouldn't hear her make rude remarks about his parents anymore.
Uncle Vernon called from the front door, "I'm going to the train station. I'm picking up Margie," there was a pause. Within a second, Harry heard stomping on the floor, the room almost shook. Vernon was running into the kitchen. To warn Harry about something, "I'll be back in an hour. If your not up and silent in your room. I'll have your head!" He said with his pointer finger an inch from Harry's eye. "Tootles, Petunia, Dudley!" He said in a sweet voice as he walked out the door.