I fucking love this.
I'm having so much fun.
I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am!
Though I do feel bad making Harry miserable. How the hell does JKR do it.
Note: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.
The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. And that, he felt, was quite the feat. He was no stranger to punishments so he felt he had the experience to hedge. When the Dursleys had finally allowed him to go out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and school was over. Harry was pleased that school had ended, but unfortunately this led to it being open season for hunting Harry. The small boy found that he was spending most of his time hiding from his cousin and Dudley's just as mean friends.
Dudley seemed to be bored this summer, searching for any excuse that he could find to make Harry miserable. The latest was the fact that the Dursleys has signed Harry up for Stonewall Public School while he was accepted into Smeltings. Smeltings was a 'high end' private school that Uncle Vernon attended back in his day as a student. When Dudley was accepted Vernon rambled on and on about how great it was, and how it shaped his life for the better. Stonewall however was a free school, paid for by taxes rather than admission. It was low-ranking and about as sketchy as you could imagine. Dudley was sure to tell Harry all the horror stories about the school that he could think of, despite never have been there himself.
"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry, leering at him with a dark smirk that Harry would normally take as a sign that it was time to leave. "Want to come upstairs and practice?" He cracked his knuckles in a threatening manner
Harry turned to Dudley, not bothering to hide his bemused expression as he stared at his bully of a cousin.
"No, thanks," said Harry, confidence surging. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said, which luck would have it was nearly a couple minutes, giving Harry a proper head start.
July had been filled with talk of uniforms and Smeltings. Dudley took to wearing his uniform at all times-much to Vernon's absolute delight- and hitting Harry with the Smeltings stick he carried everywhere with him.
Dudley banged his Smelting stick on the table, demanding attention as if he wasn't smothered by it already. He ranted and raved, demanding his mother make him some kind of sweet. Harry at this point wasn't paying attention, as Dudley he felt wasn't worth his full focus. Luckily Dudley didn't feel the need to try and attract his attention, and was fully focused on making his mother bend to his will instead. Harry instead starred off into space, thinking over a dream he had the previous night. His usual recurring dream-A flying motorcycle soaring over England and a bright green light in the distance behind it. When he snapped out of his daydream, the Dursleys were talking about the mail, which apparently arrived while Harry wasn't focused.
"Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon grumbled from behind his paper, the blonde hairs of his mustache twitching.
Dudley frowned, looking properly offended that his father asked him to complete this act. It didn't matter that it was a dull and easy chore, just that his father dared to order HIM to do it over his cousin. He glanced at Harry sharply, before glaring at his father.
"Make Harry get it. He's not even doing anything."
"Get the mail, Harry."
"Make Dudley get it." Harry tried, figuring it was worth a shot. It hasn't worked yet of course in nearly eleven years but hey, 394th times the charm right? Vernon glanced at Harry over the paper quickly, a sharp glare telling Harry that no, 394 was most certainly not the charm.
"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."
Having expected such an outcome, Harry dodged the Smelting stick expertly and trudged out of the kitchen to get the mail. Three things lay on the too-clean and pristine doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge(who Harry didn't like, but what kind of news was that. It's not like it mattered, she didn't like him either.), an envelope that looked like a bill-so of course Harry didn't care about that-, and - a letter for Harry.
Harry picked it up and stared at the large thick parchment envelope with big eyes. He felt as if his heart might have stopped in his chest. He placed a hand to it, to check and see if he had actually died and this was some kind of heaven. He-thankfully-was still alive. Thank goodness for that as well, can you imagine a heaven where Harry still lived with the Dursleys, but at least received some things from the post on occasion? Harry mentally made the decision to raise his standards a tad, and refocused on the letter. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He was just unwanted and unloved Harry Potter. No friends, no other family. The Dursleys were his entire world he thought to himself rather pathetically. As much as he hated them, without them taking him in he'd be in some orphanage. Alone, probably still unwanted. No one wants the child of a drunk after all. That's what the Dursleys told him again and again. Bright emerald ink shined from the letter, the writing immaculate and beautiful:
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
The letter suddenly felt heavy in his hands. There was no doubt that if any of the three Dursleys saw this they would take it from him. Or at least he assumed they would. Though he had no experience in receiving mail, he knew that that Dursleys often did whatever they could to make him unhappy.
They would probably give his letter to Dudley… Just to read, mock, and tear apart. Harry grew fiercely determined and shook his head. No. Not this time, this time he'd keep what was given to him.
"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing out there?!"
Quickly sliding his letter into his cupboard through a crack on the side, Harry went back to the kitchen and handed him the remaining two.
"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia, who tried amiably to fake sympathy for her rather unlovable sister-in-law. "Ate a funny whelk. -."
They spoke back and forth for a while, and Harry sat quietly in his seat, knobby knees banging together as he struggled to keep from racing to his cupboard to see what his letter read.
He eyed the Dursleys quietly through his broken glasses. He really didn't want to wait all day to read the letter. And aunt Petunia had a list of chores for him that she was writing out right now. There wasn't much choice for Harry. He had a way of getting back to his cupboard, and it was an unfortunate one.
He took a deep breath and looked at Dudley, stuffing his face with bacon. The boy was still wearing the ridiculous school uniform his mother bought for him earlier. He let out a little snicker, pretending to disguise it as a cough and looked away from his cousin. Dudley glared at Harry, cheeks stuffed.
"What are you laughing at?!" He demanded, food spluttering from his lips. Harry inwardly smirked. He took the bait.
"A stuffed sausage is all. Don't worry." He replied, making sure that his staged whisper was just loud enough for Vernon to hear. Dudley frowned, looking confused.
"Sausage isn't funny potter." He snapped, expecting Harry to agree and be quiet. Harry however had other plans.
"It is when it talks and wears orange knickerbockers!" He whispered, laughing again as Dudley's face turned bright red.
"DADDY!" He wailed, turning on the fake, tear-less wails and smacking Harry with his trusty Smeltings stick.
Holding back Harry's grin was proving to be difficult as Vernon dragged Harry by his shirt collar to his cupboard. He was grateful that after all these years with the Dursleys, him knowing how to get sent to his cupboard was finally coming in handy. Though if he knew that one day he'd be looking forward to being locked away in the small hole in the wall he'd probably be amazed.
"NO MEALS. FOR A WEEK!" Vernon roared yanking open the cupboard door shoving Harry inside. He slammed the cupboard door, locking Harry inside. Harry didn't really care. He could sneak out while they were asleep and steal food. He instead focused on the letter.
He lightly traced the beautiful green ink with gentle fingers. The writing was absolutely beautiful. He stared at the address awhile. Whoever sent the letter knew Harry lived in the cupboard under the stairs, something that the Dursleys kept secret. He turned it over, staring at the purple wax seal with awe. A crest of a lion, snake, badger and Raven surrounded a letter 'H' in the center. Harry slid his finger under the fold, to break the seal and open the envelope.
"WHAT'S THAT YOU HAVE?!" Vernon suddenly bellowed, causing Harry to nearly jump out of his skin. The door was flung open and the red face of his Uncle peaked in. Harry tried to throw the letter deep in the cupboard to keep Vernon from getting to it, but sadly he was too late.
"I knew you were up to something!" He snarled, snatching the letter away. "Steal our mail did you?!"
"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back. "I haven't stolen anything! It's addressed to me!"
Vernon held it out of his reach, sneering at the small boy cruelly.
"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than Harry could believe possible.
"Petunia!" he called, voice shaking and face draining. Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach much to Dudley's complete outrage. When she arrived in the hall, she eyed them all cautiously, as if deciding whether to step into the fuss or not, before taking it curiously and read the first line. Harry was shocked that she didn't faint on the spot after seeing Vernon's reaction. She clutched her throat and made a sharp choking noise that sounded similar to a dying bird.
"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"
They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored, and clearly wasn't going to stand for it any longer. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.
"I want to read that letter," he said loudly. Harry turned and glared fiercely at him.
"You can't! It's mine!"
"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.
Harry didn't move. Dudley simply reached out further, hand right in his father's pale face.
"I WANT MY LETTER!" Harry shouted, willing himself to be brave and stand up to Vernon.
"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley, shoving himself in front of Harry and holding out his hand expectantly.
"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their shirts and threw them into the hall, slamming the
kitchen door behind them. Harry was used to being manhandled, and stood up, immediately rushing to the door. Dudley was frozen a moment, having never been handled with anything other than love before, but steeled himself and raced after Harry. Harry and Dudley fought over who would listen at the keyhole; unfortunately Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from his face and green eyes glaring fiercely at his cousin, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, that honestly annoyed Harry, hiding on The other side of the door. "look at the address - how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"
"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly. Harry frowned, listening to his uncle rave like a mad man.
"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"
Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.
"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything..."
"But -"
"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"
Harry grimaced, slinking back into his cupboard before he could get caught.
That evening was the start to a hellish time. The Dursley family home had been assaulted by the letters, coming in large groups and seemingly followed the family no matter where they went.
They had stayed in hotels all over Surrey in an attempt to escape the letters, dragging Harry along with them. They even at times left the province, desperately trying to escape the rain of envelopes that followed. Harry personally felt that letting him have one already would solve this whole issue much faster. This whole situation was beyond ridiculous to him. He knew they didn't care about him at all, but Dudley was miserable about the travel and constantly whined and demanded to go home. Each demand was met with Petunia softly murmuring to him about how they'd go home later, and for him to enjoy the sight-seeing they were doing. If he refused and yelled at Vernon, he was met with sharp barks and annoyed ramblings of someone slowly going crazy. Harry shook his head to himself. Giving him a letter already would be much more preferable he felt, than now sitting here on the dirty, stained wood floor in this small house, no...perhaps 'shack' was a better word for the shelter that Vernon found for the family- in the middle of the stormy sea.
The shack was old and worn down, holes in the walls and roof letting rain and wind into the two rooms of the building. Harry could swear he felt the fierce wind moving the walls and causing the shelter to sway.
He glared at Dudley who was sleeping on the lone couch, snoring loudly. Perhaps in a minute when it was his birthday he'd wake him up. Just to annoy him. It would serve him right. Harry felt that it was only fair-who whatever reason- to place all the blame on his cousin.
BOOM
The shack trembled and Harry jerked upright so quickly he felt something in his neck crack.
BOOM
Something was outside, knocking on the door.
I'm going to be honest, I don't really want Hagrid taking Harry to Diagon Alley. I kinda want someone else to… But WHO.
It's not that I don't like him, I love him. He's so sweet and caring and makes such an effort to be good to the students. He's the first one to show Harry kindness and I adore him for that. But still, I would like some other character development to kick in. I want to get creative with the writing from here on, and with how I'm plotting everything out it's been hard. I really wanted to stick to the book for the first four or five chapters, but I want to do my own thing, you know.
Anyway, I'm having a hard time writing Hagrid. His voice is hard to type up.
Oh well I'll get through it!
Please review and let me know what you think!
