I do not own all characters and indicia related to the Harry
Potter series, but it is used only for this fanfiction story. I
have added some of my own work in here, which is not authorized
by J.K. Rowling or a publishing company. Enjoy reading!

Harry Potter and the Squib at Number Four

It was a quiet, peaceful morning at number four, Privet Drive. Of course, it was seven 'o clock in the morning, and in the small city of Surrey, it would stay that way for the next few hours. The only one up on the whole block was Harry Potter, an orphan who lived with his horrid aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley. He also lived with his cousin, Dudley, who slightly resembled a pig.

Now Harry was not your average teenager. He had a secret that his relatives feared to speak (and never spoke about) in civilized conversation. To them, it was something that was a disgrace to the family name. Harry Potter was a wizard. Four years ago, he had received an invitation to go to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he would learn how to use his powers. While there, Harry met his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. He also had learned the truth about his parents' death. His aunt and uncle had told him that they had died in a car crash, but an evil wizard named Lord Voldemort had actually murdered them. Everyone called Lord Voldemort "You-Know-Who" because they feared to speak his name. Voldemort had tried numerous times to kill Harry, but he failed every time.

Harry sat on his bed, which was in the guest bedroom on the second floor of the Dursley house. He had already dressed himself, and was ready to continue on some of the homework he was given for over the summer. Professor McGonnagall, Harry's Transfiguration teacher, had the students write an essay on the effects of turning a spoon into a badger, and they had to include actual details of when they had tried to complete this task the previous year in school. He also had Potions homework, which was to identify the ingredients used in a Beezlebee Potion. He had already finished his History of Magic homework, which was to write an essay of the Goblin Rebellions of 1492.

As he sat down on his bed to get started on his homework, Harry looked at Hedwig, his snowy white owl, which was locked in a cage in his room. She really wanted to get out and stretch her wings outside, but she couldn't because of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Harry took his eyes off Hedwig, and started on his homework.

* * * * *

Two hours later, at nine 'o clock, Uncle Vernon awoke, took a shower, and went downstairs to read the morning newspaper and eat breakfast. It was a Saturday, and Uncle Vernon always lounged on Saturdays. But today, he had something special planned. He was going to take Dudley out for a man-to-man afternoon, which included lunch, shopping, lunch, a carnival, and lunch. Petunia had gardening to do around the house, so she decided to stay home. Nobody asked Harry what he was doing, because nobody seemed to care about Harry. He was just a "thing" that happened to live in their household.

After Vernon and Dudley left, Aunt Petunia grabbed her gardening gear, did some quick spying on the neighbors, and headed out of the house. Harry liked this, because he could have whatever he wanted for lunch, could watch t.v. on Dudley's nineteen inch television, and didn't have to listen to anything that anyone had to say. He was enjoying his afternoon perfectly. Aunt Petunia came inside for a quick bite to eat a few hours later.
"Hello, Aunt Petunia," said Harry, as he entered the kitchen.

"Hello, Harry," said Aunt Petunia, in a kinder tone than usual. Normally, she would bark something like, "Don't say hello to me, you dirty rat." But she acted kinder when her husband wasn't around.

"Listen," Harry said. "I was wondering if I could do my homework now. I don't like doing it in the middle of the night with no light. Would that be okay?"

Aunt Petunia gave a nasty look at Harry. "Of course not," she barked. "How dare you even ask me such a thing. We told you not to mention that freak school ever again."

"It's not a freak school!" Harry shouted. "You've never been there so you don't know!"

"Oh, but I came close to going!" shouted Aunt Petunia. She threw her hands over her mouth in horror.

Harry stared at his aunt. What did she just say?

"What do you mean that you came close?" he asked.

She stared at him. "I know that I should have told you this a long time ago, but I guess that I better tell you now. When I was little..." She paused and took a deep breath. "When I was little, I showed signs of magical powers. Here and there, I would make a teacup fly across the room, make a broom fall over...little things. I didn't get a letter because I was a.." She couldn't finish.

"Because you were a what, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked.

"Because I was a...squib!" She shrieked out loud and covered her mouth. "I was so jealous when your mother, my sister got to go to that, that...school. She got to learn how to turn toads into goblets, and how to make things levitate. But I couldn't go because I was a squib! At least that's what Lily always told me. It's too bad I wasn't the one that was adopted."

Harry shrieked this time. His mother had been adopted. That meant that the Dursleys were not blood relatives. Yes! Harry thought.

Suddenly, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway came into earshot. "Not a word to Vernon," said Aunt Petunia. "Or you won't have any meals until Christmas."

"You mean he doesn't know?" Harry asked.

"Of course he doesn't know," said Aunt Petunia. "If he found out, we would be in a courtroom filing for a divorce faster than you can say magic."

"Well, Aunt Petunia," said Harry, an evil grin upon his face. "I suggest that you start being just a tad nicer to me, and maybe I won't tell Uncle Vernon. If you do, it will be a lot more pleasant summer."

Vernon and Dudley walked in the door just as Harry finished. "What is he doing in here?" asked Dudley.

"Harry was just asking me..."

"If I could do my homework," Harry finished. "And she told me I could, so I am going to get to it." And with that, Harry marched up the stairs to his bedroom.

* * * * *

Harry sat on his bed doing homework for the rest of the afternoon. It was a delight to do it during the day. But he found himself focusing more on what Aunt Petunia had told him. She almost went to Hogwarts. She was a squib. His mother had been adopted. Everything was whizzing around in his brain. All of a sudden, the doorknob to his door turned, and the door opened. It was Aunt Petunia.

"Listen, Harry," she said. "I haven't meant to be so mean to you all these years. It's just that.." Her voice trailed off. "It's just that I have been so jealous of Lily all these years, about how lucky she was to have been able to go to Hogwarts. And she was nice about it. She taught me how to say some of her cuckoo spells, how to make things levitate, and even how to perform memory charms. I was never able to work the magic, but she was nice about the whole thing, and I guess that's what made my even more mad."

"Aunt Petunia," Harry said. "I'm sorry if I have been rude over the years as well. I didn't realize how much stress you were under. Until now." Harry pulled out his wand. "I learned how to do memory charms last year," he said. "And I know that I am not allowed to do magic outside of school, but I think that this is an appropriate time."

Harry performed the memory charm. Aunt Petunia fell to the ground. She sat there for about three minutes, and then she awoke. "What am I doing here?" she asked. "Standing outside the door of a worthless toad? Boy, you will have no meals tonight as a result of this odd predicament." And with that, she marched out of his room.

"Boy is she slow," Harry said. While she was gardening, he had grabbed fruit, some sandwiches, a slice of chocolate cake, and some juice boxes from the fridge. He knew what was going to happen if he made her mad, so he took his only opportunity to steal his food. He had even finished all of his homework. "This way, everybody wins," Harry said happily. He had gotten done everything that he needed to, Petunia had not known that she told Harry about her being a squib, and Vernon and Dudley didn't have a clue as to what had been going on that whole day.

Harry Potter rolled over on his bed, and said to himself, "Now this is living."

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