CHAPTER TWO
Harry Potter, the raven-haired boy from across the street, awoke to a violent thumping and a wild shouting coming from the kitchen down-stairs.
"Ugh," thought Harry who lived with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and their porker of a son, Dudley. "What could be the matter now?" he said to himself.
"Get up, get up, you lazy sack of manure!" shouted his Aunt, her voice carrying clearly from the kitchen.
"Keep your dress on, woman!" shouted the almost 16-year-old boy from his bedroom very disrespectfully as he thought of the peaceful lullaby and the wonderful sleep from last night. "I'm coming!"
When he arrived in the kitchen his uncle and cousin were sitting at the small round table and he didn't get anything that even resembled a "good- morning" from either one of them. His family was like none other that he knew of. His aunt, uncle, and cousin despised him and Harry hated them as well. The mutual feeling of distaste was apparent as Harry seized a piece of toast before anyone could object.
"It's about time you woke up, you worthless sack of shit," said Vernon while spitting pieces of his breakfast in Harry's direction. "We have new neighbors, probably the brute that I hired from London to take Barney's place as the chief sales-representative. You are to help them get settled in and invite them over to dinner tonight."
"Me?" asked Harry baffled.
"Hiding you has never worked out in the past so I expect you to do this for me without any funny business. I'm serious... If you screw this up you'll be out on your ass before you can say abra-kadabra.
"Okay, but I get to eat supper at the table this evening," said Harry loathingly.
"Fine, just get out of my site and don't embarrass me!" shouted his uncle. "Not that these people look like anything I should be worried about being embarrassed in front of." "Why do you say that, sweetheart," said Petunia.
"Did you see that bloke's broken-down pick-up?" said Vernon, disgusted. "It's a disgrace."
Harry's Uncle Vernon was very materialistic and he believed that a person's worth could be judged by three things: his job, the amount of money he has, and his vehicle.
"Whatever," said Harry as he left the kitchen to get dressed. He threw on a pair of old jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers. He ran a comb through his untidy jet black hair, trying to cover his trademark lightening-bolt scar and put his glasses on to frame his emerald green eyes. Then, without conversation he left the house to help his new neighbors get moved in. He walked up to the house to hear a horrible commotion emitting from inside. He recognized it as a combination of a stereo blaring The Beatles' White Album, a baby shrieking, and what sounded like pans being banged together. He nervously rang the doorbell and waited. He found himself faced to face with the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
"Can I help you?" she asked, wearing rubber gloves covered with soap suds.
"That was actually what I came to ask you," said Harry utilizing the old Potter charm he had inherited from his father. "My uncle is your dad's boss and he sent me over here to help you get settled in."
"Awesome," she said with a smile as she invited him in. "The house is a mess so you'll have to learn how to navigate the thousands of boxes we have here."
Harry laughed. She was positively angelic in his eyes. She was wearing an old faded pair of bellbottoms straight out of the 70's with a green tank top and no shoes. Her brown hair was pinned up in an untidy bun but he could tell it was long and shiny. He tore his eyes away from her as he didn't want to be obvious or rude.
"By the way, my name's Harry," he said. "What about you?"
"I'm Liv," said the girl as a toddler rushed to her only to clutch her leg for a ride around the living room. "This is Briana, my sister," Liv added with a chuckle.
"Hello little Briana," said Harry as he reached down to shake her tiny hand.
A man came down from the stairs looking mighty disheveled and carrying a broom.
"This is my father Dylan Morrisey," said Liv. "This is Harry, Mr. Dursley's nephew. They live next door and he's here to help us get settled in."
"Absolutely wonderful!" called Mr. Morrisey. "We need as much help as we can get, things are an absolute mess. Why don't you and Liv go and start moving things up to her room and I'll finish up the dishes."
"Sure," said Harry as he followed Liv's lead and grabbed a box to take upstairs.
Harry Potter, the raven-haired boy from across the street, awoke to a violent thumping and a wild shouting coming from the kitchen down-stairs.
"Ugh," thought Harry who lived with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and their porker of a son, Dudley. "What could be the matter now?" he said to himself.
"Get up, get up, you lazy sack of manure!" shouted his Aunt, her voice carrying clearly from the kitchen.
"Keep your dress on, woman!" shouted the almost 16-year-old boy from his bedroom very disrespectfully as he thought of the peaceful lullaby and the wonderful sleep from last night. "I'm coming!"
When he arrived in the kitchen his uncle and cousin were sitting at the small round table and he didn't get anything that even resembled a "good- morning" from either one of them. His family was like none other that he knew of. His aunt, uncle, and cousin despised him and Harry hated them as well. The mutual feeling of distaste was apparent as Harry seized a piece of toast before anyone could object.
"It's about time you woke up, you worthless sack of shit," said Vernon while spitting pieces of his breakfast in Harry's direction. "We have new neighbors, probably the brute that I hired from London to take Barney's place as the chief sales-representative. You are to help them get settled in and invite them over to dinner tonight."
"Me?" asked Harry baffled.
"Hiding you has never worked out in the past so I expect you to do this for me without any funny business. I'm serious... If you screw this up you'll be out on your ass before you can say abra-kadabra.
"Okay, but I get to eat supper at the table this evening," said Harry loathingly.
"Fine, just get out of my site and don't embarrass me!" shouted his uncle. "Not that these people look like anything I should be worried about being embarrassed in front of." "Why do you say that, sweetheart," said Petunia.
"Did you see that bloke's broken-down pick-up?" said Vernon, disgusted. "It's a disgrace."
Harry's Uncle Vernon was very materialistic and he believed that a person's worth could be judged by three things: his job, the amount of money he has, and his vehicle.
"Whatever," said Harry as he left the kitchen to get dressed. He threw on a pair of old jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers. He ran a comb through his untidy jet black hair, trying to cover his trademark lightening-bolt scar and put his glasses on to frame his emerald green eyes. Then, without conversation he left the house to help his new neighbors get moved in. He walked up to the house to hear a horrible commotion emitting from inside. He recognized it as a combination of a stereo blaring The Beatles' White Album, a baby shrieking, and what sounded like pans being banged together. He nervously rang the doorbell and waited. He found himself faced to face with the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
"Can I help you?" she asked, wearing rubber gloves covered with soap suds.
"That was actually what I came to ask you," said Harry utilizing the old Potter charm he had inherited from his father. "My uncle is your dad's boss and he sent me over here to help you get settled in."
"Awesome," she said with a smile as she invited him in. "The house is a mess so you'll have to learn how to navigate the thousands of boxes we have here."
Harry laughed. She was positively angelic in his eyes. She was wearing an old faded pair of bellbottoms straight out of the 70's with a green tank top and no shoes. Her brown hair was pinned up in an untidy bun but he could tell it was long and shiny. He tore his eyes away from her as he didn't want to be obvious or rude.
"By the way, my name's Harry," he said. "What about you?"
"I'm Liv," said the girl as a toddler rushed to her only to clutch her leg for a ride around the living room. "This is Briana, my sister," Liv added with a chuckle.
"Hello little Briana," said Harry as he reached down to shake her tiny hand.
A man came down from the stairs looking mighty disheveled and carrying a broom.
"This is my father Dylan Morrisey," said Liv. "This is Harry, Mr. Dursley's nephew. They live next door and he's here to help us get settled in."
"Absolutely wonderful!" called Mr. Morrisey. "We need as much help as we can get, things are an absolute mess. Why don't you and Liv go and start moving things up to her room and I'll finish up the dishes."
"Sure," said Harry as he followed Liv's lead and grabbed a box to take upstairs.