Summary: The wizarding world never existed, Harry Potter is a normal boy living a pretty normal life while attending Stonewall high, but while walking home after a football match, Harry encounters someone who will turn his world upside down.
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"Young man, get your arse out of that bed. It's your day to make breakfast." There was a smart rap at his bedroom door.
A voice pierced Harry's sleepy conscience.
He groaned and rolled out of bed.
"I'll be right there aunt Petunia!" he called, hearing her walk down the upstairs hallway and down the steps.
Harry rummaged around on his messy floor. Finding his school trousers, he pulled them on.
He was fully dressed in 10 seconds flat and hopping out the door, pulling on a sock by the 11th second.
Harry padded sleepily down the stairs to the kitchen, where upon entering it, he encountered his cousin Dudley.
Dudley gave him a sour look.
"Took you long enough, I'm hungry," he said irritably, "I made breakfast yesterday, you should at least remember to get up and make it on your day!"
Harry glanced his watch, making sure to do it slowly to annoy Dudley.
"It's only seven" Harry said quietly, restraining himself from smirking at Dudley's hunger.
"So?" said Dudley, cracking his knuckles threatingly, "Today's your day to make breakfast, so you should get up earlier"
Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty as he pulled the frying pan out of one of the cupboards and almost threw it on the stove.
He cracked an egg and began to make omlettes, because they were relatively simple and quick, and they would get Dudley off his back about food. He was also the best at getting them perfectly cooked. Not even aunt Petunia could dispute that.
Uncle Vernon sat at the kitchen, drinking his coffee and reading the paper, ignoring his son and Harry in such a way that Harry could tell that he had been listening to every word exchanged.
Dudley grunted slightly and began setting the table.
Harry sighed, of the fifteen years that he had lived with the Dursley's, he and Dudley had been like brothers, mostly fighting bitterly, but occasionally sticking up for each other.
When his parents had died in a car crash, he had been deposited on his aunt's family by Social Services.
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had not been pleased with the arrangements, but since neither they nor Social Services could figure out where else to put young Harry, he stayed at the Dursley's.
Petunia and her now dead sister Lily had been at war with each other for most of their lives. Neither, If asked, could have remembered what started it.
Harry felt well taken care of, but there was a coolness and an echo of difference that had kept him from really connecting with his mother's family.
Harry finished four omelets in a relatively short time, giving Dudley the first one, to shut him up. He plunked one down in front of Uncle Vernon, who didn't even look up from his Daily Mail, but instead reached around it with his fork and guided a piece of egg rather blindly to his mouth.
Aunt Petunia gave her husband a disapproving look and began to eat her own breakfast. Harry plopped his own plate down next to Dudley, sitting far away though. This seating arrangement had come into play when Uncle Vernon had become fed up with their attempts to kick each other under the table (they had usually missed and hit Uncle Vernon's knees instead, due to their then short legs.)
Harry finished his breakfast quickly and nipped upstairs to finish the Maths homework that he had left undone the night before. He heard Dudley bustle by to the bathroom, where Harry knew he would spend most of the next half hour getting ready.
Harry wondered if the reason why his hair was so messy was because of some subconscious aversion to comb it, considering how much time Dudley spent in that bathroom, fixing his own blond hair.
Harry had always felt different from those around him. He had a few friends, and even a best friend of sorts – Scott Tamers. His friends were more the type to study with or go to football games with rather than to talk with.
There was nothing distinguishing about Harry's appearance or manner that suggested any difference from his friends, just a little notion in his heart.
Scott was the type that could always make a person laugh, always making cracks and sarcastic comments, his mouth a straight line, but his deep set hazel eyes laughing.
Harry had three other close friends, Tommy Moore, Aly Pratchett and Mia Jing. Tommy was the quietest of their group and the most reserved with his dark blonde hair and dark grey eyes that could just gaze at you and you'd open up like a flood gate.
Aly was more the brains of their group, though she'd skin you alive if you called her Alyson. She looked a lot like Harry's mum apparently, though her eyes were blue and she was very studious and always nagging at them to study more.
Mia was the person who was most open, she could also run like a track star and their gang often showed up as her cheering section during the inter-school Track and Field meets. Her black eyes usually flashed with intensity and her long black hair was usually pulled back in a high pony-tail.
Harry finished the rest of his homework and shoved his books into his school satchel. He ran a wet comb half heartedly through his hair and grabbed his coat, putting it on while he walked down the stairs.
Pulling open the front door, he yelled over his shoulder to aunt Petunia that he was leaving for school and that there was a football game after school that he was going to but he would be home in time to do his chores. He slammed the door shut before Aunt Petunia could reply or object- his usual tactic.
Scott was waiting at the corner of Privet Drive, his hands deep in his pockets and his thin lips in their customary straight line.
"Hey Harry!" He said, sounding cheerful; but not looking like it.
"Hey Scott, you finish that English project?" asked Harry.
"Yah, I finished it last night at like two in the morning," Scott sighed slightly, "Then Mia called me this morning and told me that it isn't due till Friday and I got grounded for staying up so late."
Harry snorted, then frowned.
"Does that mean your not allowed to go to the football game?"
Scott nodded grimly.
"Aw, that sucks." Replied Harry sympathetically, as they started walking towards Stonewall high school. Harry was glad that Dudley went to Smeltings, so he was at least able to have a few friends at Stonewall.
They met up with Aly, who barely noticed them enough to give them an off-handed "Hi", as her nose was buried in Dune. Harry and Scott exchanged glances and Scott rolled his eyes. Aly could read and do almost anything else at the same time. It got her in trouble a lot, especially at school, when the teachers caught her reading under her desk.
It didn't stop Aly from being the best student in their grade though.
Harry, Scott and Aly met Tommy and Mia at the main entrance to their school and proceeded to their various classrooms and courses.
Harry couldn't shake the nagging feeling though that he was being watched…
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When school ended for the day, Harry, Mia, Aly and Tommy watched one of the interschool football games. Scott had to go straight home, much to his disgust. The match itself was quite exciting and Stonewall high won 5-2. The four friends left it feeling quite jubilant.
Tommy was getting a ride home with his older brother, who had also been at the football match and Aly was going to Mia's house. That left Harry to walk home alone.
Harry didn't mind, in fact, he enjoyed walking alone; where he could wander along aimlessly, dwelling on random thoughts.
The air was chilly and the sky was a concrete gray, promising that rain would come soon. Harry pulled his sports jacket tighter around him and contemplated Mia's black eyes. They were familiar.
Of course their familiar, you idiot, Harry scolded himself, She's been one of your best friends for 4 years!
But they were different… in a familiar way of course. Harry wondered where this train of thought had come from.
He continued down the road, mulling over the other things that had happened during the day. He laughed silently to himself when he remembered one of Scott's sarcastic comments about their french teacher.
He was several blocks away from Privet drive when he felt the odd feeling that he was being watched assail him again.
He glanced across the street to see his batty old neighbour Ms. Figg tottering along with her walking stick. It wasn't her watching him, so who was it?
He turned around sharply, to find no one behind him.
When he turned back to continue walking towards Privet Drive, something was different.
On the corner of Magnolia drive (Which he was walking on) and Privet drive was a figure with a billowing black cloak and dark hair. The boy, who looked about his age, was facing away from Harry, gazing at something on Privet drive. Harry approached cautiously.
His footsteps crunched on some stray gravel and the boy whipped around, a hand plunging into his robes.
Harry gasped as he stared at the boy. The boy's green eyes widened as he surveyed Harry.
The boy was wearing a uniform underneath his cloak, which had a crest with a lion on it and a red trim. The boy's black hair was messy and stuck up in the back, but his green eyes were older, battle-worn and had a hardened edge to them. A lightning bolt scar was visible beneath the boy's fringe.
The reason that Harry Potter was so surprised was that he staring at himself.
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Ahhhh…. Cliffie…
Sorry if this chapter is slightly confusing, it'll all be explained in the next one ;)
I know it's rather short, but it'll get longer.
Please review!!!