A/N: To inform all those reading this story, within a few short days, I will be working on another story that may or may not have to do with Harry Potter but with other books, depending on my mood. Please give reviews when the first chapters come up! Thank you! ~Isabella248
Disclaimer: What difference is there between Rowling and I? She owns Harry Potter and I never will!
O~O~O~O
Lily stiffened, watching with nervous eyes as Dumbledore flipped through the pages. Snape saw the fear in Lily's eyes and desperately wanted to comfort her. He wanted to put his arm around her shoulders and tell her everything was all right, and he would've done so, had they still been friends. If anything, he could at least postpone the reading until she was ready.
But he was not the only one to notice Lily's anxiety, and so before Snape could do anything, James spoke up.
"Headmaster?" Dumbledore looked up. "Perhaps we should take a break," James suggested. "We can continue reading in about—let's say—thirty minutes, when our nerves had settled." All the while speaking, James looked over to Lily.
Dumbledore nodded and closed the book. "Perhaps it is time for lunch," he said. He and McGonagall—who also noticed Lily's nervousness—led the students out of the office, down the moving staircase and towards the Great Hall. While everyone cheerfully ate, Lily moved outside to be alone with her thoughts. James was quick to follow, with Snape watching with vengeful eyes.
Lily also noticed James. "Why are you following me?" she said in an irritated tone.
"Didn't think you want to be alone," he replied.
Lily snarled but otherwise did nothing to stop him. Truthfully, she really didn't feel like being alone.
They both sat together in the courtyard, eating silently under the shelter of one of the buildings from the tranquil rain. Lily was, to say the least, a bit surprised that James wasn't annoying her, as usual. Instead, while he nibbled the corner of his sandwich, he was looking upward toward the cloudy sky with a thoughtful expression.
Lily never saw James look like that before, ever! And in a way, he looked…cute. Lily shook her head—she couldn't believe she just thought that! This was James Potter, for crying out loud! The same boy that annoyed her since first year, the same boy that was always smiling a stupid cocky, arrogant smile whenever she saw him…but he wasn't smiling at all right now. He looked…serious…
"What are you thinking about?" she asked impulsively.
"The rain," he said all too quickly. Intuition flickered—Lily sensed he was lying.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
"Nothing in particular," Lily said. James smiled—he knew she was lying, but since this was the longest he's been with Lily that didn't involved shouting at each other, he decided not to push the matter.
After ten minutes of silence, Lily asked again, "What are you thinking about? And this time, tell the truth."
James hesitated. "Harry."
She looked at him, surprised, caught off guard by his response. "You were?"
He nodded and smiled. "Same as you, am I right?"
Her eyes widened. "How did you—"
"Great minds think alike," he said and winked at her. Lily rolled her eyes. There was the James that had been plaguing her since first year.
She sighed in defeat. "Yes, I'm worried. I hope he's okay." James chuckled. "James Potter, this is not funny!" Lily snapped, her flashing green eyes looking to meet his amused hazel irises. "Aren't you worried about him?"
James grew somber at the question, all humor gone. Lily was surprised—she had never seen James so serious-looking before. But there was a new emotion in his eyes that surprised her more—it was grief.
"Of course I'm worried," he whispered. "He's my son, and I care deeply about him. And I want him to have the best life possible." His mouth twitched, fighting a smile. "Weird, isn't it, though? You and I are both fretting over a boy that doesn't even exist yet."
Lily tried smiling back. "I guess." She paused. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For stopping Dumbledore." Lily looked ashamed. "I wasn't ready to continue with the story. Not after hearing everything Harry's been through."
James was silent, watching Lily beginning to blush from the intensity of his stare—or maybe because she was uncomfortable admitting weakness to anyone, especially to him. He looked away to look at the rain.
"Truthfully, I wasn't ready either," he admitted. He smiled sadly. "I mean…he doesn't remember. He doesn't remember me, or you. I guess it's good, in a way, because of what Voldemort did, but I'm just sad that I…that you and I…will never get to see him grow up. It's not fair!"
Lily felt her eyes tearing up. Her baby…her poor baby…so confused about the magic he's doing and doesn't even understand that he's doing it all! She knew Petunia hated her—called her a freak to her face a fair number of times—but she never once believed that her sister's hatred and prejudice against all things magical would extend to her baby boy.
Without even thinking of what she was doing, Lily leaned over and rested her head on James' shoulder. He stiffened, and then relaxed. He put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder reassuringly.
"Do you think…we can change the future? If we read these books, I mean," Lily whispered.
James twirled a lock of Lily's red hair, savoring how silky it was between his fingers. "Maybe. If not, we could use this to our advantage."
Lily looked up and met his eyes, confused.
"If, for some reason, we can't change the future, let's use our time wisely, read this book, and see our son grow up." He smiled brightly. "Maybe that's why we found it in the first place—someone's giving us a chance to hear about our son. I'm grateful, if nothing else."
Lily smiled back. She leaned back on his shoulder. "I'm grateful, too." For another few minutes, they sat in silence.
Snape, who had snuck after James and was now hiding behind a pillar, saw this, and a rage he never felt before roared in his heart. He forced himself to look away. He hated that book! He hated that boy that would be James Potter's son! He hated that boy that would be his beloved Lily's child! And he hated that James Potter had Lily—his Lily—in his arms. He hated him!
He took off running, confident that the rain disguised his thundering footsteps. He ran so that he could no longer see the husband and wife-to-be.
O~O~O~O
When their thirty minutes was up, everyone had gathered into the Headmaster's office. Snape was still seething with rage. He shot James a reproachful look as he and his sweet Lily entered the room. They settled in their original spots, and Lily—who felt Snape looking at her—did not bother to acknowledge his presence.
Dumbledore picked up the book and found the correct chapter. He hesitated.
"What's wrong Albus?" McGonagall asked.
"There's a note here in this chapter," Dumbledore replied. " 'Dear readers, in addition to your reading, I will be sending you two people who will be more than delighted to join you. Signed, a friend.'"
As soon as he finished speaking, a bright blue fire appeared behind them. Everyone looked as two teenagers, a boy and a girl, appeared, backs facing them and both looking curiously around their surroundings.
The boy was red-haired, tall with freckles over his face. The girl had a pretty heart-shaped face and long brown hair braided into plaits. Both were wearing casual clothing.
The girl turned to her partner with an angry look and smacked him upside the head. "Ow!" he yelped.
"Ronald Weasley, what did you do?" the girl demanded.
"I swear, I didn't do anything Hermione," the boy named Ronald retorted.
The girl named Hermione huffed. "Then you tell me why we're suddenly in the headmaster's office!"
Dumbledore cleared his throat. Both figures turned around. Their eyes widened and within half a second, both whipped out their wands and pointed it at them. Sirius, Remus, James, Lily, Snape, Arthur and Frank took out their wands, ready to counterattack. Alice tentatively stood beside Frank, her wand already in hand but the look on her face told that she didn't want a confrontation. Molly looked at the boy named Ronald Weasley. Surely, it can't be…
Dumbledore stood up. "Now, now, there's no need to act rashly," he said.
Neither Ron nor Hermione relaxed their positions. "Reveal yourselves, Deatheaters!" Ron demanded.
"Watch who you're calling Deatheaters!" Sirius shouted. "How do we know you're not the Deatheaters here, huh?"
A few minutes of tense silence followed. Dumbledore walked around the desk and stood between the groups of teenagers. Ron tightened his grip on his hand, wavering on the decision to point his wand at the imposter whom resembled his old headmaster; McGonagall quickly rushed to be behind Dumbledore. Hermione kept her glare on the others.
"Now, now, there's no need for alarm," Dumbledore said, trying to console the newcomers.
Hermione eyed each of the kids. She was alarmed when she recognized the younger versions of Remus, Sirius and Snape. She was surprised to see Neville and Ron's parents. But what really shook her confidence were the other two people in the room, the boy with messy black hair and a girl with pretty green eyes. They look so familiar…
O~O~O~O
James kept his glare on the boy, but focused his attention on the girl named Hermione, as she was eyeing each of them with a weary expression. He watched her eyes widen with each face she took in. But her gaze faltered entirely when her eyes touched his and Lily's. She gave them a puzzling look, as if she was trying to remember something.
Suddenly her eyes widened again. Her elbow brushed against her partner's and she whispered something they couldn't hear. The boy looked away from Dumbledore to me and Lily. His eyes widened as well.
What the hell is going on here?
O~O~O~O
Hermione kept her glare on the boy with messy hair and the girl with green eyes. She was scanning through her memories, trying to figure out why they looked so familiar. Surely, they haven't met before, but why did it feel like she did?
A horrible realization fell on her as she closely examined the boy with messy hair. He looked like Harry! The same facial features, the same muscled physique, the same height, the same everything! Well, except the eyes. But then she looked at the pretty red-haired girl with the familiar green eyes. Harry's eyes…
She let out an inaudible gasp. She now remembers where she has seen their faces. After the war, when Harry had moved in with the Weasleys, he decorated the walls of his new room with portraits of Sirius, Remus, Tonks and many others that had died in the war. Among the moving pictures was a portrait of his mother and father. Every time she entered his room, the first picture she always saw was that portrait of his parents. James and Lily Potter…
Hermione nudged Ron's elbow. "Ron, look at those two next to Dumbledore," she whispered so low that no one else could've heard her. Ron obeyed hesitantly.
He, too, has seen the portrait of his best mate's dead parents. Like Hermione, his gaze faltered when he noticed that the dark-haired boy resembled Harry. Except the eyes, of course, but when he looked at the pretty red-head next to the boy, he saw the familiar green irises he always associated with his best mate.
"Bloody hell," he cursed beneath his breath. He and Hermione looked at each other and then turned to Dumbledore.
"What year is it?" Hermione asked, her eyes drawing hesitantly to James and Lily.
Dumbledore smiled. "1977," he answered.
Hermione and Ron looked at each other again, and then lowered their wands. The others looked surprised by how relaxed the two newcomers were, when, seconds before, they looked prepared for battle.
"So, you're not Deatheaters," Ron sighed with relief. "Good thing, too, because we were a bit outnumbered." He looked around the office. "Huh, shouldn't be surprised that your office looked like it did when we went to school," he commented.
Hermione, while certain that there was no immediate danger, she continued eyeing the others in the office. She was now certain who they were.
Dumbledore cleared his throat to gain their attention. "Would you mind introducing yourselves," he said smiling.
"I'm Hermione Granger, sir," Hermione said. Her eyes drew to James and Lily for the third time.
"Ronald Weasley," Ron said. Within seconds after saying so, two arms enveloped around his neck and red hair brushed against his face.
"Oh, I was right, I was right!" Molly cried out. "You must be our future son! Oh, I'm so happy!" She turned and gave her husband her famous deathly glare. "I cannot believe you were ready to attack him! He's your son!"
Arthur faltered under the glare of his wife. "Need to be cautious nowadays, sweetie," he said. But he smiled as he looked at Ron. "But I'm glad. Another son! One more to the family!" He walked up and hugged Ron as well.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet your acquaintances," Dumbledore said. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. This is Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House." He gestured to the others standing on his other side.
"This is Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Frank Longbottom, Alice Mason, Molly and Arthur Weasley, James Potter and Lily Evans," he said. Hermione and Ron's gaze fell on James and Lily again. James was getting annoyed by the furtive looks.
"Why the hell are you looking at us like that?" he snapped. Ron and Hermione looked taken back.
"Sorry but…it's just weird that we got to meet you two in person," Ron said sheepishly.
Lily looked taken back now. "Do you know us?" she asked.
Hermione gave them a wistful smile. "Of course we do. You're James and Lily Potter, Harry's parents," she said, her voice growing sad at the end.
Sirius looked them over. "You know Harry?" he asked, almost suspiciously.
Ron nodded. "Of course we know Harry, everyone in the Wizarding world does," he said.
Hermione looked at James and Lily a fifth time before adding, "Harry's our best friend."
Everyone lowered their wands. "You Gryffindors?" Sirius questioned.
Hermione rolled their eyes. "Of course we are, Padfoot," she said, putting some emphasis on the last word. He, James and Remus suddenly grew nervous, but when Hermione gave them a comforting smile, their worries waned. Lily watched this exchange and felt that she was missing something.
"So, what's going on?" Ron asked.
"We're reading a book about Harry," Remus answered. "You've been sent to read it with us."
"There's a book about Harry?" Ron questioned. Hermione smacked him upside the head again.
"There were plenty of books about him before, Ron!" she said in an exasperated tone. "You would know that if you picked up a book once in a while." Sirius and James snickered.
Dumbledore conjured up two more chairs and everyone settled in their seats. "What's the title?" Hermione asked.
"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," Lily said.
"So, it's basically about our first year at Hogwarts," Ron whispered. She nodded. Hermione wondered how James and Lily would take it once they hear about all the stuff that happened throughout the year.
Dumbledore flipped through the pages until he prepared to read the chapter for the third time. "Chapter Three: The Letters From No One," he spoke.
Sirius' face lit up. "This is it! Hogwarts!" James and Lily beamed.
The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment.
Hermione and Ron groaned. "Harry told us about that particular incident," Hermione explained at seeing everyone's questioning gaze. "He said the punishment lasted a while." She added that last part ruefully.
"I'm afraid to ask how long," James muttered.
By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started
Hermione and Ron both growled. Everyone else shouted out:
"What?!"
"That's totally unfair!"
"You big prunes, he didn't do anything wrong!"
"You had better have fed him, Petunia!"
and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.
"Brat," everyone chorused, including Hermione and Ron, whom had met Dudley once since the war and did not plan to meet him ever again. Even McGonagall couldn't help but voice her opinion on the horrid boy. Never had she heard of someone so vile.
Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader.
"Aw, the philosophy of the world," Sirius joked. He sobered at the next sentence.
The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.
Hermione sighed and Ron groaned. "I can't believe his aunt and uncle didn't care enough to stop it," Hermione whispered. She hated to hear how horrible Harry's childhood had been.
James growled. "I never heard of someone going this bad before," he sneered. Well, besides Voldemort but the cases were different.
This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope.
"You think he knows about Hogwarts?" Sirius asked.
"Not likely," Frank answered. "Otherwise, he would know the truth about magic." Everyone looked at Ron and Hermione for confirmation.
"He didn't know," Ron answered.
When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings.
"What kind of name is Smeltings?" Sirius scoffed.
Lily shuddered. "Vernon went there—he thought it was a great school. I don't trust his judgment." James and Snape personally agreed.
Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school.
Sirius snorted. "Yeah, right. Like he's actually going to go to that school."
James nodded. "He'll be coming to Hogwarts." With Lily being the only one to hear, he added, "That means he'll find out the truth." Lily frowned. Her poor baby.
Hermione and Ron looked at them, both sad because they knew too well how much Harry had suffered.
Dudley thought this was very funny.
"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"
Molly shook her head. "How can that boy's parents allow this to continue?"
"He better not have done anything to Harry," Ron warned.
"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it—it might be sick."
Everyone (excluding Snape, Dumbledore and McGonagall) burst out laughing.
"Yup, that's our Harry," Ron said between laughs.
Then he ran,
"Smart move," Sirius said.
before Dudley could work out what he'd said.
"That might take a while," Frank said, and they laughed even harder.
One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before.
"Ha! Good, I hate cats!" Sirius said. Lily gave him a questioning look, and then looked over to James and Remus. Both were shaking their heads, but smiling. Hermione and Ron were both trying to hold in laughter. This only strengthened Lily's suspicions that they were all enjoying a personal inside joke, and that joke was known to Hermione and Ron. She remembered what Hermione said to Sirius—did this secret have to do with the nicknames? Padfoot…did that mean dog?
She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.
Sirius grimaced. "Well, at least she tried being nice," he said. Everyone nodded.
That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters.
Everyone else scrunched up their faces in distaste. "Never heard of a more horrible outfit," Arthur said.
They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.
"How is that good?" Sirius questioned.
Remus sighed. "Something tells me that stick is going to be painful for Harry." Lily and James growled. Hermione and Ron were already plotting what hexes to put on Harry's large cousin the next time they meet.
As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life.
"He must've had a sad life," Sirius commented, and everybody laughed.
Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up.
Everyone laughed harder. Even Snape couldn't hide a smile.
Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.
Everyone in the headmaster's office showed no sign of hiding their laughter. McGonagall tried to look disapproving and utterly failed. Dumbledore chuckled, enjoying the time with his students. It took about five minutes before everyone settled.
There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast.
"Your sister cooking?" Sirius joked.
Lily couldn't hold back a smile. "Maybe."
"Hope it's not a pig," James said, "because if they eat it, that would be considered cannibalism."
Lily laughed. Snape glowered at James. James pretended not to notice and instead savored the fact that he made Lily laugh.
It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.
Lily was confused. "Did their washing machine break?"
"Can I ask what that is?" Sirius asked. Remus sighed.
"You would know if you've bothered taking Muggle Studies," Remus said. Sirius only smiled.
"It's easier just to ask you two." Remus and Lily shook their heads.
"It's a Muggle machine that washes clothes," Hermione answered.
Sirius looked at her. "Muggleborn," she said, and that answered his unasked question. He simply nodded.
"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.
Hermione huffed at that. She wouldn't have been able to stand not asking questions. How did Harry survive was beyond her comprehension.
"Your new school uniform," she said.
Harry looked in the bowl again.
"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."
Ron, Hermione, Remus and Sirius burst out laughing. Ron and Hermione, because that was definitely something Harry would say. Remus and Sirius, because Harry reminded them of James.
"He is definitely your son," Sirius said to James and Lily. Both were smiling, as were everyone else (excluding Snape).
"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look like everyone else's when I've finished."
"I seriously doubt that," James said.
Harry seriously doubted this,
Everyone looked from the book to James. "Whoa, that was weird," Remus said.
but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High—like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.
Everyone laughed again. "I like your son, he's funny," Frank said.
Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.
"Man, I hate he has that stick!" Sirius said, cringing at the thought of Harry's torture.
They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.
"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.
Molly huffed. "Didn't think he would make his son do anything productive," she scoffed.
"Make Harry get it."
"Get the mail, Harry."
"Make Dudley get it."
"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."
Nearly everyone growled at this statement. Nearly everyone. Snape was hiding his smile so that Lily wouldn't see.
Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight,
"Ugh," Lily groaned. "I can't believe she's still alive."
James looked at Lily with an incredulous look. "Who is she?" he asked.
"Like the book kindly pointed out," Lily said, smiling grimly, "she's Vernon's whale of a sister, that cow." Both James and Sirius burst out laughing, Remus smiled.
When Hermione and Ron burst out laughing, everyone looked at them. "Sorry, we just remembered something Harry told us about Aunt Marge," Ron said, smiling widely. "Happened in third year. You might hear about it." He and Hermione tried to reign in their laughter before continuing.
a brown envelope that looked like a bill,
"What's a bill?" Sirius asked. Remus rolled his eyes.
"Must you ask pointless questions," he said in a tired tone. Sirius smiled mysteriously, his own way of saying yes.
and—a letter for Harry.
"YAH, HOGWARTS!" Sirius cried out. Everyone rolled their eyes but otherwise made no preference that they heard him.
Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, ha d written to him.
At that, James frowned and looked to his two best mates. Sirius looked down, and answered the question in James' eyes. "I don't know why I didn't write him." Remus nodded, equally confused by this action.
Dumbledore sighed. "It is possible that I asked no one from the Wizarding world to contact him," he said. Sirius huffed and Remus shook his head. Neither was happy with the decision.
Lily turned to Hermione and Ron. "We write to Harry," Ron answered before Lily could ask. "We know that he really needed the company." Lily nodded, glad that Harry made good friends.
Who would?
"We would and we do," Hermione huffed. She hated to think how horrible Harry has been treated at Privet Drive.
"I would," Sirius said.
"Me too," Remus joined in.
"Anyone here would," Alice chimed. Everyone nodded but Snape. He refused point-blank to have any contact with the boy.
He had no friends,
James, Sirius and Remus both cringed at the idea of having no friends, and their sympathy for Harry grew. Everyone else just looked sad at those words. Even Snape, grudgingly, couldn't help but feel sorry for this boy that would be his beloved Lily's child.
Lily whimpered. She had to comfort herself on the idea that soon enough (she sneaked a peek at a saddened Ron and Hermione) he would have friends.
no other relatives—he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back.
"That's sad," Sirius whispered.
"Is it wrong if my son wants to learn or read books," Lily snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. Sirius had grown accustomed to it so he was not necessarily afraid.
"No, it's not," he answered. "I just think it's sad he's desperate enough for recognition that he would want strangers writing him other than friends."
Lily gave Sirius a perplexed stare. Never had she heard this Marauder sound so…serious (A/N: That may or may not be a pun. You decide. ). Instead, she looked to Dumbledore to continue.
Yet here it was, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
James growled at the address. Lily hung her head. Why, oh why, did her sister hate her enough to make her baby suffer so? Both Hermione and Ron cringed. Harry had only recently told them about his childhood. They knew about the cupboard, and outright exploded at the idea of their friend suffering like that. It was no better hearing it the second time around.
The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.
"What's a stamp?" Sirius asked Remus.
"It's something that Muggles put on their mail," Remus answered.
Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion,
"GO GRIFFYNDOR!" James and Sirius cried out.
an eagle, a badger and a snake
Sirius booed and James frowned. Snape rolled their eyes at them.
surrounding a large letter H.
"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.
Sirius gaped at the book. "That…was a joke?"
James shook his head. "How is Harry supposed to develop a sense of humor growing up with that man?"
"Believe us, he has a sense of humor," Ron reassured them. They both smiled in anticipation.
Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.
"Bad move," Remus said.
"Why?" Arthur asked.
"Petunia and Vernon must know about magic, so they'll know about Hogwarts," Remus pointed out.
Hermione and Ron tried to stifle their laughter. Harry told them about this. They were feeling giddy at what would happen soon enough on that little island.
Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.
"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk…"
Lily narrowed her eyes at the mention of the aunt. "Good, I hope she stays ill," she prayed.
"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"
Everyone groaned. "Please, please, please don't take away the letter," James pleaded.
Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.
"Crap," James muttered.
"Give Harry back his letter, you whale!" Sirius shouted.
"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.
"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon,
"I would, if I was allowed," Sirius grumbled. Remus nodded in agreement.
shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was a grayish white of old porridge.
"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.
"Oh please, talk about drama," Hermione groaned. Ron laughed.
Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.
"What a drama queen," Lily huffed. James laughed.
"Vernon! Oh my goodness—Vernon!"
They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.
"If I did that, I would be stuck in my room for the rest of my life," James pointed out.
"If I did that, mum would kill me," Ron whispered.
"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.
"I want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's mine."
"Good point, now give him back his letter!" Sirius again said.
"They'll have to give him his letter," Remus pointed out. "It's not like they can just ignore it." Hermione and Ron smiled.
"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.
Harry didn't move.
"I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.
James smiled. "Awww, there's Lily's temper," he joked. "Glad that didn't get lost." Lily smiled sheepishly. Snape strengthened his glare on James.
Hermione and Ron weren't sure whether to laugh or shudder. Harry's temper was great. His anger was enough to put Molly, Ginny and Lily's to shame. The few times they saw it weren't exactly the most pleasant.
"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.
"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall
"Hey, don't touch my son!" James cried out.
slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole;
"Please tell me Harry won that fight," Remus begged.
Dudley won,
Remus sighed and everyone else groaned.
so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between the door and floor.
"That's a good alternative," Alice pointed out.
Sirius huffed. "At least that fat boy didn't sit on him."
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address—how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"
James snorted. "Please, as if any of you besides Harry are worth spying on."
"Watching—spying—might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.
"They are so full of themselves," Frank grunted.
"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want—"
Remus looked at Dumbledore. "What would happen if they wrote back?"
Dumbledore looked at each of them with a pensive look. "I feel that even if we have received such a response, it would be a wiser choice to allow us to teach young wizards how to control their powers rather than let them accomplish it on their own."
He returned back to the book.
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?"
Everyone, even Snape, glowered at the book. "Stamp…out…that…dangerous…nonsense?!" Hermione said in a threatening tone.
"I can't believe they would think that," Sirius huffed. "They should know that trying to block magic would have the opposite effect! The way they treat him, it's no surprise that he can do powerful accidental magic."
Lily hung her head. "My sister thinks we're all freaks," she whispered. Only James and Snape heard her. Snape was ready with a retort when James spoke up.
"You were born with powers, you're special, Lily. That isn't a bad thing," James said. Lily looked at James and smiled.
"Thanks."
Snape bit back the insults that circulated through his brain. He didn't want to make a fool of himself, especially with the headmaster in presence, but his thoughts remained bitter that he wasn't the one Lily smiled at.
That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard.
Ron and Hermione's glare darkened at the mention of the cupboard.
"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"
"At least he's persistent," James added. Hermione smiled and Ron laughed.
"You have no idea how right you are," Hermione said mysteriously.
"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."
"What?!"
"You ugly fart, that was his letter!"
"Petunia, when I get my hands on you…"
"It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."
"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling.
Even now, as angry as he is with his best mate's uncle, Ron couldn't hold back a shiver at the mention of the spider.
He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.
"That's because it's not Halloween yet, he only wears that smile when he wants to scare children away," Sirius joked. Everyone laughed.
"Er—yes, Harry—about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you're really getting a bit big for it…
"He grew too big for it at the age of five, you whale!" Hermione growled. "You shouldn't have let him sleep there at all, for that matter!" Ron thought it safer to inch away from Hermione. He knew better than to be near her when she was angry.
we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."
There was a loud uproar. "THAT-SPOILED-CHEAP-OVERBEARING-LARGER-THAN-LIFE-BULLYING-ELEPHANT-HAD-A-SECOND-BEDROOM-AND-MY-SON-HAD-TO-SLEEP-IN-A-CUPBOARD!?" Lily seethed with rage.
Hermione conjured up a life-size mannequin of Vernon. By the time she and Ron had finished throwing hexes and curses of sorts, the dummy was completely unrecognizable. James repaired it and the others took shots at Vernon. Their anger was still not waning by the time they started reading again.
"Why?" asked Harry.
"Don't question it!" Alice said frantically, still angry with the book. "They might change their minds!"
"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."
The Dursley's house had four bedrooms:
Everyone simultaneously threw different curses at the newly-repaired mannequin to vent their anger.
one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visits (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom.
"Spoiled brat," Molly growled.
It only took Harry one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room.
Everyone's anger waned to sadness at how little Harry possessed for himself.
He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog;
"That's just sick! Somebody should arrest him for animal cruelty!" Sirius cried out. Lily was the only one puzzled by the statement. What was with his obsession with dogs?
in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled;
"Brat," everyone chorused. Snape wanted to remark that this Dudley character reminded him greatly of Potter, but thought better not to. Even Potter was not that horrifying.
there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it.
Sirius grinned evilly. "Ha!"
Other shelves were full of books.
Hermione snorted. "Don't tell me that whale actually reads!"
They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.
"That explains so much," Alice grunted.
From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't want him in there….I need that room…make him get out…."
"You don't need it!" Ron cried out. "Harry needs it. It should've been his in the beginning!"
Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday, he'd have given anything to be up here. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter tan up here without it.
"I wish that, too, but it would be better to have both at the same time," Remus suggested.
Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back.
"Merlin, if I did all that, my mom would kill me," James said.
"You and me both," Ron said, throwing a glance at his mother.
Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall.
"That would've been the better option," Frank said critically.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.
Lily sighed. "Petunia isn't going to tell him anything," she said.
James looked nervous as he began to say, "I'm not sure if I want him to know about our deaths."
When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it.
"Only because he's afraid of Harry," Hermione answered when everyone looked quizzically at the book.
They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive—'"
"Damn, pup should've gotten it instead!" Sirius groaned.
Lily gave Sirius a suspicious glare. "Pup?"
Sirius shrugged. "It's my nickname for him." Lily thought there was more to it. There was more to the Marauders than just pranks. It definitely had something to do with their nicknames. She looked at James. He didn't seem bothered by what Sirius said. What was their secret?
With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind.
"Go Harry!" Sirius, Ron and James cried out. Sirius added, "Don't give in without a fight."
After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick,
"Does that mean Dudley hit himself?" Sirius snickered.
Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.
"Go to your cupboard—I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry. "Dudley—go—just go."
"Damn," James groaned.
Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again?
"Glad to know he has Lily's brains," Remus teased.
"Hey, I'm smart," James retorted while Lily beamed.
"I beg to differ, Mr. Potter, but are you aware of your current grade in Herbology?" McGonagall pointed out. At that, James smiled sheepishly.
And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.
"YES! He's a Mini-Marauder!" Sirius and James cried out. McGonagall wasn't sure if she should groan or just cry. Not another one! Why, oh why, did this have to happen? The only thing she could pray for is that this Harry would not be as troublesome as his father.
The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.
"Wonder what his plan is?" Remus questioned.
He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first.
"That's a good plan," James approved.
His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door—
"AAAAARRRGH!"
"Awww, Headmaster, sir, you need to shout out things like that!" Sirius pouted.
Dumbledore let out a hearty chuckle. "I am not one to yell, Mr. Black," he said.
Sirius huffed, muttering under his breath, "I would've yelled."
Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat—and something alive!
Sirius recovered his good mood. "I would bet my new broomstick that it was his uncle's face."
Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face.
Sirius laughed. "I wish I could've seen his face!"
Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do.
James snorted. "Huh, smarter than I thought," he admitted grudgingly.
He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see three letters addressed in green link.
"I want—" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes.
Everyone sighed. Everyone, that is, except Hermione and Ron, who didn't seem at all disappointed that Harry hadn't got his mail.
Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.
"See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."
Frank snorted. "Like that's really going to stop us," he said.
"It's true," Lily sighed. "My parents thought it was a prank but the letters kept coming and eventually they began to believe it."
On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry.
Lily smiled. "My parents started believing it was real after this."
As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.
Sirius and James snickered. "This is getting funny."
Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.
Sirius almost fell to the floor laughing. "Man, this guy is going crazy," he said between breaths.
On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window.
Remus joined in on the amusement. "You're right, this is getting entertaining."
While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in their food processor.
"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement.
"Everyone at that time," Ron muttered.
Lily heard this. "Was he really that popular?" she asked. Ron laughed.
"He had his own fan mail. 'Course, he wouldn't get it until he was of age, but when he does, it'll take three months to get through the first batch," he snickered. "I can't wait for it to happen. The look on his face will be priceless."
Hermione looked at him with a smug smile. "Don't laugh at Harry, Ron, or else I will help him find that particular moving letter you sent to him when you were six," she threatened genially. Ron blanched; the others (mainly the Marauders) laughed at the red Weasley.
On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.
"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today—"
"That's not going to stop us," Frank said smugly.
Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one—
"Get it! Get it! Get it!" Sirius and James chanted, joined by Frank, Alice, Arthur and Remus.
"Out! OUT!"
Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall.
"Leave pup alone!" Sirius threatened.
When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.
Everyone laughed. "I wish I could've been there to watch this, this is precious gold!" Sirius said. His face brightened, he conjured up ink and a parchment, and began writing. McGonagall was, to say the least, worried. She recognized that glint in the Marauder's eyes. Another prank was coming.
"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"
He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue.
"More like, 'He looked so stupid with half his mustache missing that they nearly died of laughter,'" James said. Everyone broke out laughing. "See, like that!"
Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.
Lily huffed. "Didn't think he would bestow any discipline, he actually spoils him more than anything else!"
They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.
"Shake 'em off…shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.
This time, James laughed. "You were right Padfoot, he is going insane!"
They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.
"You spoiled brat, Harry had it far worse than you! How dare you complain about bad days!" Hermione snapped.
Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering…
"Wondering what?" Lily questioned.
"Doesn't say, Miss Evans," Dumbledore said, chuckling at the blushing red-head.
They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next morning.
Both Ron and Sirius scrunched up their faces with distaste. "Pup needs more than that if he's going to survive for the day," Sirius said dramatically. Ron nodded wholeheartedly.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Harry doesn't have a black hole for a stomach," she said. Her eyes narrowed. "Though, I have to agree, he needs to eat more than that."
They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.
"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."
She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:
Mr. H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth
"Wow, you don't take 'no' for an answer do you?" Remus looked to the aged headmaster. Dumbledore chuckled.
"Not in this particular case, Mr. Lupin, no," he said.
Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.
"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.
"Dang it," Sirius grumbled. Hermione and Ron's smiles widened. They knew what was coming next. Lily was puzzled by the expressions on their faces but figured that maybe something good was about to happen.
"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her.
"Ha! Even his wife knows it's pointless!" Sirius snickered. "They can't keep hiding forever." Hermione and Ron tried stifling their laughter.
Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.
Remus shook his head while his two best friends laughed their asses off. This guy was getting funnier with each passage.
"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon.
"See, even Dinky Duddydums knows it," Sirius said. Everyone laughed. Hermione and Ron snickered at the nickname.
Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.
It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.
"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."
"I want, I want, I want—is that all you care about?" Hermione snapped. She was losing her patience with Harry's cousin.
Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday—and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television
"Probably the only thing he's good at," Sirius commented.
—then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday.
"Awww," the girls cooed, especially Hermione. But this made Lily sad. This only reminded her that she's dead, she would never get the chance to know her son.
Of course, his birthdays ere never exactly fun—last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.
Everyone growled, Ron and Hermione's were especially loud.
Sirius looked at Ron and Hermione. "Do you send him anything for his birthday?" he asked, his tone harsher than necessary. They both nodded, and he relaxed.
Still, you weren't eleven every day.
"That's true."
Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.
"Found the perfect place!" he said."Come on! Everyone out!"
"Um, why is he smiling?" Sirius was getting nervous. Anything that makes that man happy isn't going to be good for Harry.
It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.
James shuddered. "He can't seriously mean for them to stay there! It sounds horrifying!" His thoughts were on Harry; he could care less for the aunt and spoiled nephew.
"Storm forecast for tonight," said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"
A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.
"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"
James shuddered again. "He's actually serious." Lily's feelings mirrored James'. This was going a bit far.
It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.
The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Only two rooms?" he spat.
Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas.
"NO!!! They'll never survive!" Sirius cried out dramatically. Lily rolled her eyes.
He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.
Hermione and Ron were getting increasingly worried. The way the book described it was about ten times worse than what Harry had told them.
"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.
He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.
"Don't give up yet, Harry!" James cried out.
As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa.
Please, please, please let her show Harry that same kindness, Lily futilely prayed to whoever was listening to her thoughts. Please, please, don't let him suffer.
She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blankets.
Molly was beside herself with anger. "THAT-IS-NOT-THE-WAY-YOU-SHOULD-TREAT-A-C HILD!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her tiger-like expression softened. "Poor Harry. He really doesn't deserve this. How can anyone be this cruel?"
The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger.
"My baby," Lily silently whimpered, starting to sob uncontrollably. James held her close, and surprisingly, she didn't pull away.
Sirius, Remus and the others felt horrifyingly upset rather than angry.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other. They would need to find a way to make up for all those lost years.
Dudley's snores were drowned b the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.
"They won't give a damn, and they're probably sending a letter right now," Sirius answered Harry's thoughts.
Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did.
"Won't he get hurt if that happens?" Alice pointed out.
Ron shrugged. "He probably thinks it would keep him warm from the wind."
Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.
"That could work," James said. Hermione and Ron smiled. Here it comes…
Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?
Everyone looked at each other in confusion (excluding Ron and Hermione). What's going on?
One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds….twenty….ten…nine—maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him—
"Do it, do it, do it, do it," Sirius and James chanted. Remus rolled his eyes at his best friends.
three…two…one…
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" Sirius and James shrieked.
Lily clutched her chest, breathing hard. "Bloody hell, never do that again! You two scared me witless!" she scolded.
Remus stared at Lily in astonishment. "Did you just curse?" Lily blushed and pleaded with her eyes that Dumbledore continued.
BOOM.
Nearly everyone fell out of their chairs, for Sirius produced a similar sound with his wand. He and James were rolling on the floor laughing (ROTFL) at everyone's reactions. The next ten minutes were dedicated to Lily and Hermione separately scolding their childish behavior, which was entertainment for the others.
After everything was said and done, they continued.
The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.
"That is the end of the chapter," Dumbledore proclaimed.
"I'll read next, if no one minds," Arthur said, grabbing the book.
Just before they could continue, bright blue flames appeared once more behind the group. A girl with flowing red hair appeared.