Chapter One
Harry sighed as he looked down at his plate. Aunt Petunia had just offered him half a banana and a small juice box for lunch. It was Saturday afternoon, and he was in Dursley's kitchen having lunch with them. Of course, Harry's meal was no more different from all the other meals he had ever eaten in his whole life at the Dursley's. However, the Dursleys were certainly not happy with their meal. Aunt Petunia was still trying to get Dudley, her son, to slim down. Harry wondered if this was possible, since Dudley was now exceeding the size of a baby whale, and was now starting to resemble a fully-grown warthog. Last summer, the Dursleys had tried a new diet, in hopes that this might be the miracle that would get Dudley to be a thinner man. This summer, Harry returned home to find that Aunt Petunia was looking more and more like a stick, while Uncle Vernon got red very often, and Dudley was fatter than ever, which was surprising, since Aunt Petunia only fed him rice cakes and fruits.
"Uh, Uncle Vernon, could I see newspaper, please?" Uncle Vernon turned around to look at him with hateful glare, but managed to shove the newspaper into Harry's hand. Normally, Harry would have been either told to go to his room, if it could possibly be called that, or yelled at for thinking his people could ever be mentioned in a prestigious newspaper. However, this summer had been somewhat different. Ever since his friends had threatened the Dursleys, they had been nicer, or at least, remotely human.
Harry Potter was a wizard. He was only 16, having just turned last Wednesday. Of course, the Dursley's hadn't even acknowledged his birthday with even a nod, but it didn't matter, because his friends had sent him many gifts and treats to feast on. Six years ago, Harry had found out that not only was he was a wizard, being the son of two great wizards, but also his parents had been murdered by the darkest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort.
Just a few months ago, Harry had learnt another secret, something much more shocking than anything. Lord Voldemort had wanted to kill Harry, because, according to a prophecy made by his Divination professor, if Voldemort didn't kill Harry, then Harry would kill him. One couldn't survive if the other lived. This would have been easier to take in had he not just lost his godfather, Sirius Black. This summer had been, without a doubt, the worst summer of his life.
He knew nothing would be in the newspaper and he was right. The only interesting piece of news was that a sheikh in Brunei had sold his land, only to find out later that there was an oil mine under his land. But in none of the pages could he find anything about Voldemort or the Death Eaters.
"So boy, find anything interesting? What did you expect, news about your people?" He spat out "your people" as if it had been a disgusting bug that had found its way on his fork and into his mouth. Harry was surprised. Often Uncle Vernon was careful not to mention the wizard world in fear of the neighbours overhearing them.
"Vernon, dear, be careful. What if the neighbours hear you?" She lent in closer towards the table and turned to the husband. "Only last week, in the supermarket, Mrs. Frinks and Mrs. Green were looking at me and talking amongst themselves. What if they suspect something?" Harry fought to keep a straight face. He didn't think it was the neighbours being suspicious of him; rather he thought it had to something with Dudley stuffing his face with whatever candy he could get into his hands in the sweets aisle. Of course, there was no way the Dursleys would blame their son for anything said in the neighbourhood about them.
"Dad, if people find that Harry is a... a... well, one of those things, then I'll lose all my friends," said Dudley, puckering his face and showing his dad his fake pout. Harry knew why Dudley was so keen on this matter being kept a secret; if any one of his friends were to find out, they'd leave him and he'd have no gang to bully little children with.
"Yes, Dudderkins, you're quite right. No fine young boy should have to lose his friends because he's got scum for relatives. But I can't keep quiet, Petunia. This boy is touching my last nerve. He's sixteen, old enough to be kicked out of this house. Why, I could throw him out on his arse right now." Uncle Vernon's face kept turning a brighter shade of putrid purple. Harry was no less angry, but he couldn't use his magic. He already had a warning from the Ministry of Magic once about the use of magic while being underage. If he was caught, he could be expelled from Hogwarts, and that was the only home he ever knew. If he lost that, he didn't know how he could possible overcome his grief for Sirius by staying in the same house as the Dursleys. He had to control his anger, and at the same time, keep Uncle Vernon from throwing him out. Luckily, all he had to do was say one sentence.
"Uncle Vernon, aren't you forgetting the chat you had with my friends?" This instantaneously turned Uncle Vernon's face from the shade of a rotten plum to white. He stuttered, but no words came out. He loathed magic folk, but he was afraid of them as well. Oh no, he hadn't forgotten the chat. Neither had he forgotten when that large ape who called himself Hagrid had turned Dudley into a pig. Nor had he forgotten when Harry had turned his sister Marge into a swollen large balloon. He hadn't forgotten what happened two years ago either, when that Weasly and his boys had wrecked his fireplace and turned Dudley's tongue purple. Last year was still fresh in his mind, when they got the letter for Petunia with the bellowing voice. He hadn't forgotten anything and that's why he shut his mouth right now.
Harry smiled proudly. The summer was going by awfully, with the mourning of Sirius' death, but at least Mr. Weasly, Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody had made it better with their threat against the Dursleys. "Well, that's better now. If we're done here, I'll go up to my room. I bet Hedwig has come from Ron's house with a letter. You know how she comes in at broad day light. You certainly wouldn't want the neighbours seeing her, now would you?" He left the kitchen triumphantly, with Uncle Vernon flailing his arms behind him and Aunt Petunia swinging at the thought of the neighbours seeing the owl. Both his aunt and uncle, however, didn't see Dudley trying to wolf down their breakfast, unsatisfied with just his own.
Chapter Two
Harry sighed as he looked down at his plate. Aunt Petunia had just offered him half a banana and a small juice box for lunch. It was Saturday afternoon, and he was in Dursley's kitchen having lunch with them. Of course, Harry's meal was no more different from all the other meals he had ever eaten in his whole life at the Dursley's. However, the Dursleys were certainly not happy with their meal. Aunt Petunia was still trying to get Dudley, her son, to slim down. Harry wondered if this was possible, since Dudley was now exceeding the size of a baby whale, and was now starting to resemble a fully-grown warthog. Last summer, the Dursleys had tried a new diet, in hopes that this might be the miracle that would get Dudley to be a thinner man. This summer, Harry returned home to find that Aunt Petunia was looking more and more like a stick, while Uncle Vernon got red very often, and Dudley was fatter than ever, which was surprising, since Aunt Petunia only fed him rice cakes and fruits.
"Uh, Uncle Vernon, could I see newspaper, please?" Uncle Vernon turned around to look at him with hateful glare, but managed to shove the newspaper into Harry's hand. Normally, Harry would have been either told to go to his room, if it could possibly be called that, or yelled at for thinking his people could ever be mentioned in a prestigious newspaper. However, this summer had been somewhat different. Ever since his friends had threatened the Dursleys, they had been nicer, or at least, remotely human.
Harry Potter was a wizard. He was only 16, having just turned last Wednesday. Of course, the Dursley's hadn't even acknowledged his birthday with even a nod, but it didn't matter, because his friends had sent him many gifts and treats to feast on. Six years ago, Harry had found out that not only was he was a wizard, being the son of two great wizards, but also his parents had been murdered by the darkest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort.
Just a few months ago, Harry had learnt another secret, something much more shocking than anything. Lord Voldemort had wanted to kill Harry, because, according to a prophecy made by his Divination professor, if Voldemort didn't kill Harry, then Harry would kill him. One couldn't survive if the other lived. This would have been easier to take in had he not just lost his godfather, Sirius Black. This summer had been, without a doubt, the worst summer of his life.
He knew nothing would be in the newspaper and he was right. The only interesting piece of news was that a sheikh in Brunei had sold his land, only to find out later that there was an oil mine under his land. But in none of the pages could he find anything about Voldemort or the Death Eaters.
"So boy, find anything interesting? What did you expect, news about your people?" He spat out "your people" as if it had been a disgusting bug that had found its way on his fork and into his mouth. Harry was surprised. Often Uncle Vernon was careful not to mention the wizard world in fear of the neighbours overhearing them.
"Vernon, dear, be careful. What if the neighbours hear you?" She lent in closer towards the table and turned to the husband. "Only last week, in the supermarket, Mrs. Frinks and Mrs. Green were looking at me and talking amongst themselves. What if they suspect something?" Harry fought to keep a straight face. He didn't think it was the neighbours being suspicious of him; rather he thought it had to something with Dudley stuffing his face with whatever candy he could get into his hands in the sweets aisle. Of course, there was no way the Dursleys would blame their son for anything said in the neighbourhood about them.
"Dad, if people find that Harry is a... a... well, one of those things, then I'll lose all my friends," said Dudley, puckering his face and showing his dad his fake pout. Harry knew why Dudley was so keen on this matter being kept a secret; if any one of his friends were to find out, they'd leave him and he'd have no gang to bully little children with.
"Yes, Dudderkins, you're quite right. No fine young boy should have to lose his friends because he's got scum for relatives. But I can't keep quiet, Petunia. This boy is touching my last nerve. He's sixteen, old enough to be kicked out of this house. Why, I could throw him out on his arse right now." Uncle Vernon's face kept turning a brighter shade of putrid purple. Harry was no less angry, but he couldn't use his magic. He already had a warning from the Ministry of Magic once about the use of magic while being underage. If he was caught, he could be expelled from Hogwarts, and that was the only home he ever knew. If he lost that, he didn't know how he could possible overcome his grief for Sirius by staying in the same house as the Dursleys. He had to control his anger, and at the same time, keep Uncle Vernon from throwing him out. Luckily, all he had to do was say one sentence.
"Uncle Vernon, aren't you forgetting the chat you had with my friends?" This instantaneously turned Uncle Vernon's face from the shade of a rotten plum to white. He stuttered, but no words came out. He loathed magic folk, but he was afraid of them as well. Oh no, he hadn't forgotten the chat. Neither had he forgotten when that large ape who called himself Hagrid had turned Dudley into a pig. Nor had he forgotten when Harry had turned his sister Marge into a swollen large balloon. He hadn't forgotten what happened two years ago either, when that Weasly and his boys had wrecked his fireplace and turned Dudley's tongue purple. Last year was still fresh in his mind, when they got the letter for Petunia with the bellowing voice. He hadn't forgotten anything and that's why he shut his mouth right now.
Harry smiled proudly. The summer was going by awfully, with the mourning of Sirius' death, but at least Mr. Weasly, Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody had made it better with their threat against the Dursleys. "Well, that's better now. If we're done here, I'll go up to my room. I bet Hedwig has come from Ron's house with a letter. You know how she comes in at broad day light. You certainly wouldn't want the neighbours seeing her, now would you?" He left the kitchen triumphantly, with Uncle Vernon flailing his arms behind him and Aunt Petunia swinging at the thought of the neighbours seeing the owl. Both his aunt and uncle, however, didn't see Dudley trying to wolf down their breakfast, unsatisfied with just his own.
Chapter Two