A/N: Read, Review, and no flames please! BTW this is a shot at a karaoke type fic.
Disclaimer: I don't Harry Potter
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Harry brushed his jet black hair away from the front of his eyes. His mouth fell open.
"Happy birthday, Harry Potter." Uncle Vernon yelled with great enthusiasm. He hopped happily across his room.
What the hell did Aunt Petunia feed
him? Harry thought
to himself. He snickered. "Thank you very much Uncle Vernon." He grabbed his
uncle's sausage-like-fingered hand and shook it. Leave damn it!! Leave!!
"Here you go Harry, enjoy." His uncle said, and slammed the door. Oh good, pretty soon he'll be old enough to live all alone by himself. He thought happily.
Harry stared at the long, rectangle box that lied on the bed. He examined it carefully with his glasses. I wish this illusion were real.
~
Obviously, it was an illusion. Never would Harry receive a gift for his birthday, yet alone any other holiday involving presents. He sat up straight on his cot-which replaced the bed, because his uncle didn't want him to feel to comfortable at their house-and examined a box near the foot of his bed. Covered in green polka dotted wrapping paper and a green ribbon was a present, in the same shape as his dream. He unwrapped the present, leaving the remainders of the paper on his bed.
The door suddenly opened, with a big fat figure leading against the door frame.
"Lean more and you'll break my door frame." Harry said angrily, hiding the box. He examined the rest of his cot. Damn it! There were a few scraps of wrapping paper near the edge of his cot. The green was so bright that Dudley noticed them.
"Wait 'til dad hears about this. You know what he said about receiving presents." Dudley reminded.
"If you don't tell him anything Diddykins, I won't tell him what you did to the other half of the lawn." Harry spat. He took out the box from underneath his blanket.
"Magic! Aha! You're going down Harry. Sneaking magical items into your room…such an idiot. You want to leave this place don't you?"
"Of course I do." Harry responded.
"You'll have no place to go."
"I do have a place to go. I can be some bum living underneath overpasses, watching you graffiti over my home, while I'm lying down shivering on the cold, cold cement ground…all because you kicked me out for having a box saying 'magic'"
"Do bums really live like that?"
Harry nodded.
"I'll go now, if I never come back tell mum that I've decided to become a bum for a living."
Did I just have an odd conversation with Dudley? Harry thought. He tried pulling the top of the box. Damn idiot who taped the entire top. He looked at his desk. No scissors-that's right…Aunt Petunia banned me from using them when she thought I was threatening Dudley. People and their children…
Harry started heading down the creaky stairs. He slid down the banister and fell flat onto the living room ground. He quickly ran towards the kitchen. "Where are the scissors?" He whispered to himself. Wand… His wand was kept in a small secure safe to prevent Harry from using other forms of magic to get his wand. Harry shook his head and stared wide eye towards the window. A wand shaped stick was lying on the ground.
"Diffindo!" Harry whispered over the box. A microphone? Who would want to send me a microphone? He reminisced about his Godfather's death. "Maybe I can talk to Sirius on this thing…maybe it's some sort of communicator for the other plane. Sirius…can you hear me?" A torn-up note fell to the ground.
It was
time you experienced the life the Marauders had. Use this wisely; it will bring
great joy and fun to your school year. It is very useful in places with tables,
such as pubs and the Great Hall
"Huh?"
