DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters.
Chapter One
It was a normal day - well as normal as you can get in these types of stories.
The sun blazed down through a window in a house on Privet drive, burning the face of a boy with tousled black hair, who woke with a start. Judging by the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, I'd say he was Harry Potter.
Harry sat up and looked around, puzzled. Since when did his cupboard under the stairs have a window? It hadn't last time he'd checked. And what was that horrible groaning sound he could hear? Could a mouse be making it? No, of course not. He thought. Mice squeak. Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, and looked around again. A pitiful moan interrupted Harry's now clear thoughts, and he realised at once what had happened.
His elephantine cousin, Dudley Dursley, had tried to get up the stairs again, and they had collapsed under his massive bulk.
He now lay on the floor next to Harry's bed, tiny bits of white plaster sprinkled over his pink bunny rabbit pyjamas.
'Help... me...' Dudley moaned, and Harry considered for half a second. But, he knew that he had something else to do, no question about that, so he couldn't help Dudley get up. He'd probably dislocate his shoulder if he tried, anyway.
'Sorry, Dud, but I have to go and fetch the mail right about now. There's supposed to be a mysterious and heavy letter arriving for me today.' He skipped off down the hall, whistling loudly.
'THAT RUDDY OWL!' thundered Uncle Vernon, hurtling down the upstairs hall to Dudley's second bedroom.
'Not yet, darling' called his wife, Harry's Aunt Petunia, from their bedroom. Harry ignored them and continued down the hall to the front door, banging things on his way with the Smeltings stick he'd nicked from Dudley. When he reached the front door, he bent down and picked up the luminous green mailbox lying on the doormat. Extracting its contents, Harry dropped it and the Smeltings stick on the floor and set off for the kitchen, staring at the letters in his hand. There were three; a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry! It was mysteriously heavy and addressed to him very clearly:
Mr H. Potter
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Harry stared at it, then marched into the kitchen where his aunt and uncle had just sat down. He threw the postcard and the bill down in front of Uncle Vernon, and started to open his mysterious and heavy envelope with slow, exaggerated movements.
'Marge's ill.' Uncle Vernon observed. 'Ate a funny whelk. Will you stop that, boy!' He waved the postcard at Harry, who had just hit him in the eye as he tore the seal from his envelope.
'Dad! Dad!' Dudley called from Harry's cupboard, his voice sounding slightly muffled through the wall. 'Harry's got something, LOOK!' Vernon jumped and stared at the letter in Harry's hand, as if seeing it for the first time. Harry was in the process of unfolding the thick piece of parchment that he'd pulled from the envelope.
'Give me that, boy!' Uncle Vernon snapped, snatching the letter from Harry's hands.
'Hey! That's my letter!' Harry cried, diving at Vernon for his mysterious letter. Uncle Vernon dodged out of his way.
'Don't be stupid, boy! Who would be writing to... to... you...' Uncle Vernon's voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the letter. Quite suddenly, he let out a loud gasp and staggered to his chair, his face as white as chalk. A loud noise filled the room as he sat down, like the air being let out of a balloon, and Harry heard Dudley giggling madly from the cupboard under the stairs.
'Petunia! Look!' Uncle Vernon barked, and Aunt Petunia came bustling over with a cup of coffee to read the letter. She let out a shriek and spilt her coffee on the letter and Uncle Vernon's legs.
After he had finished jumping around, Uncle Vernon sat down and started whispering to Petunia.
'You don't think... It can't be!'
'Look at the address...'
'There must be spies about somewhere...'
'We can't allow this to happen...'
'We can't have them prying into our home...'
Harry stood up. 'Give me my letter!' He yelled.
'NO! No, no, no!' Uncle Vernon spluttered. 'No point, you see, it's covered in coffee. Completely illegible!' He grinned smugly, waving the letter in front of Harry, who noticed that the only thing blotted out was the name of the sender. 'I'll have to burn it.' And he tossed into the fireplace. 'Well, that's that.'
'Come on then, Vernon.' Aunt Petunia said, and took his arm. They both disappeared up the hall, laughing unpleasantly all the way to their room. When Harry was sure that they were gone, he crossed over to the unlit fireplace, removed his letter, and started to read.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY.
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards.)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Harry couldn't read any more because of the coffee, but he had a basic idea of what the letter was about.
'But I don't have an owl!' He cried. 'This wasn't in the script, was it?'
He turned around, and a large brown barn owl swooped in through the closed window, sending shattered bits of glass everywhere and landing on Harry's head.
Harry grabbed a piece of Aunt Petunia's flowery writing paper and a pen from the bench, and hastily scribbled on it.
'Is this my owl? What do I do with it? Is...'
The barn owl snatched the writing paper from Harry's hand and flapped out the other kitchen window, which was open. Harry threw the pen after it and sat down on the floor with a crunch.
A few minutes later, there came a timid knock on the door. Harry raced to open it. Who knew, it could be the milkman! Wildly excited, he raced down the hall, and was bitterly disappointed when he opened the front door and came face to stomach with the largest man he'd ever seen.
'Hullo.' Said the man.
'You're not the milkman!' Harry wailed.
'Nope, I'm Rubeus Hagrid, here to take you to Hogwarts. Come on, then.' Hagrid started down the path, but turned back when he realised that Harry wasn't following. 'Come on!' he repeated. 'Unless you'd rather stay, of course.'
Harry looked behind him at the ruined staircase and the bits of glass scattered across the floor. From upstairs, he could hear Uncle Vernon shouting,
'THAT RUDDY...'
Harry turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
Chapter One
It was a normal day - well as normal as you can get in these types of stories.
The sun blazed down through a window in a house on Privet drive, burning the face of a boy with tousled black hair, who woke with a start. Judging by the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, I'd say he was Harry Potter.
Harry sat up and looked around, puzzled. Since when did his cupboard under the stairs have a window? It hadn't last time he'd checked. And what was that horrible groaning sound he could hear? Could a mouse be making it? No, of course not. He thought. Mice squeak. Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, and looked around again. A pitiful moan interrupted Harry's now clear thoughts, and he realised at once what had happened.
His elephantine cousin, Dudley Dursley, had tried to get up the stairs again, and they had collapsed under his massive bulk.
He now lay on the floor next to Harry's bed, tiny bits of white plaster sprinkled over his pink bunny rabbit pyjamas.
'Help... me...' Dudley moaned, and Harry considered for half a second. But, he knew that he had something else to do, no question about that, so he couldn't help Dudley get up. He'd probably dislocate his shoulder if he tried, anyway.
'Sorry, Dud, but I have to go and fetch the mail right about now. There's supposed to be a mysterious and heavy letter arriving for me today.' He skipped off down the hall, whistling loudly.
'THAT RUDDY OWL!' thundered Uncle Vernon, hurtling down the upstairs hall to Dudley's second bedroom.
'Not yet, darling' called his wife, Harry's Aunt Petunia, from their bedroom. Harry ignored them and continued down the hall to the front door, banging things on his way with the Smeltings stick he'd nicked from Dudley. When he reached the front door, he bent down and picked up the luminous green mailbox lying on the doormat. Extracting its contents, Harry dropped it and the Smeltings stick on the floor and set off for the kitchen, staring at the letters in his hand. There were three; a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry! It was mysteriously heavy and addressed to him very clearly:
Mr H. Potter
The Cupboard Under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Harry stared at it, then marched into the kitchen where his aunt and uncle had just sat down. He threw the postcard and the bill down in front of Uncle Vernon, and started to open his mysterious and heavy envelope with slow, exaggerated movements.
'Marge's ill.' Uncle Vernon observed. 'Ate a funny whelk. Will you stop that, boy!' He waved the postcard at Harry, who had just hit him in the eye as he tore the seal from his envelope.
'Dad! Dad!' Dudley called from Harry's cupboard, his voice sounding slightly muffled through the wall. 'Harry's got something, LOOK!' Vernon jumped and stared at the letter in Harry's hand, as if seeing it for the first time. Harry was in the process of unfolding the thick piece of parchment that he'd pulled from the envelope.
'Give me that, boy!' Uncle Vernon snapped, snatching the letter from Harry's hands.
'Hey! That's my letter!' Harry cried, diving at Vernon for his mysterious letter. Uncle Vernon dodged out of his way.
'Don't be stupid, boy! Who would be writing to... to... you...' Uncle Vernon's voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the letter. Quite suddenly, he let out a loud gasp and staggered to his chair, his face as white as chalk. A loud noise filled the room as he sat down, like the air being let out of a balloon, and Harry heard Dudley giggling madly from the cupboard under the stairs.
'Petunia! Look!' Uncle Vernon barked, and Aunt Petunia came bustling over with a cup of coffee to read the letter. She let out a shriek and spilt her coffee on the letter and Uncle Vernon's legs.
After he had finished jumping around, Uncle Vernon sat down and started whispering to Petunia.
'You don't think... It can't be!'
'Look at the address...'
'There must be spies about somewhere...'
'We can't allow this to happen...'
'We can't have them prying into our home...'
Harry stood up. 'Give me my letter!' He yelled.
'NO! No, no, no!' Uncle Vernon spluttered. 'No point, you see, it's covered in coffee. Completely illegible!' He grinned smugly, waving the letter in front of Harry, who noticed that the only thing blotted out was the name of the sender. 'I'll have to burn it.' And he tossed into the fireplace. 'Well, that's that.'
'Come on then, Vernon.' Aunt Petunia said, and took his arm. They both disappeared up the hall, laughing unpleasantly all the way to their room. When Harry was sure that they were gone, he crossed over to the unlit fireplace, removed his letter, and started to read.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY.
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards.)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Harry couldn't read any more because of the coffee, but he had a basic idea of what the letter was about.
'But I don't have an owl!' He cried. 'This wasn't in the script, was it?'
He turned around, and a large brown barn owl swooped in through the closed window, sending shattered bits of glass everywhere and landing on Harry's head.
Harry grabbed a piece of Aunt Petunia's flowery writing paper and a pen from the bench, and hastily scribbled on it.
'Is this my owl? What do I do with it? Is...'
The barn owl snatched the writing paper from Harry's hand and flapped out the other kitchen window, which was open. Harry threw the pen after it and sat down on the floor with a crunch.
A few minutes later, there came a timid knock on the door. Harry raced to open it. Who knew, it could be the milkman! Wildly excited, he raced down the hall, and was bitterly disappointed when he opened the front door and came face to stomach with the largest man he'd ever seen.
'Hullo.' Said the man.
'You're not the milkman!' Harry wailed.
'Nope, I'm Rubeus Hagrid, here to take you to Hogwarts. Come on, then.' Hagrid started down the path, but turned back when he realised that Harry wasn't following. 'Come on!' he repeated. 'Unless you'd rather stay, of course.'
Harry looked behind him at the ruined staircase and the bits of glass scattered across the floor. From upstairs, he could hear Uncle Vernon shouting,
'THAT RUDDY...'
Harry turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.