Julie: Hullo Readers, I am one of the six (or more) muses that will be in this story. There will usually be only 6 or 7 of us, but some will come and go, please feel free to skip our deluded rambalings if u want, but read the disclaimers, which usually say something lik "I do not own the Harry Potter Books or charactors, they all belong to the Almighty J.K.Rowling" well that is what the authour would be saying if she were here, and not checking the HP books for tiny details that can be used in this fic.
Author: Thats The Almighty Author to You!
Julie: Or what? anvil falls on Julies head
Author: Thats what.
Lizzie: -.-' please ignore them, I'm the only sane one in our group....you'll meet the others later...
Now let us begin...
Chapter 1/Prolauge: Noticing
Mr. and Mrs. Johnson of number 7 Privet Drive, were not perfectly normal, and refuse to say thank you very much. Mr. Johnson was a famous author, who wrote fantasy books and always liked to think that a magical world like those in his books existed. He was a tall, thin man with curly brown hair. Mrs. Johnson was just as tall, with red hair stretching almost to her waist. They were kind people who loved animals of any kind. They were also observant, they noticed what the other neighbors didn't. They had noticed how, on November 1st, there had been the strangest people, whispering, talking about a downfall. Mr. Johnson had been very startled indeed when one such woman hugged him, she told him to rejoice, because someone had fallen. He heard the whispers, they whispered that a baby had caused the downfall of some guy that they called You-Know-Who, after the death of his parents. They noticed when Mrs. Dursley from across the street had opened the door on November 2nd and screamed, they had looked out their window and saw a small bundle on her doorstep, and saw as it began to scream. Mrs. Dursley ignored the noise and had picked up an envelope, opened and read it; they saw tears in her eyes as she picked up the crying bundle. They would have watched further, but there conscious, and their 3 year old twins, had told them it was time to do other things with their own lives. 5 years later they had a girl, Lydia. They loved her just as much as they loved her 8-year-old twin brothers, Lyman (LY-MAN), and Liam (LEE-AM).
By the time Lydia was 6, she was just as observant as her parents were. Her parents had seen the Potter Boy arrive, and had watched him grow up from afar. They had watched as the Dursleys horrible son Dudley used as a human punching bag, they had seen him run away from them on several occasions. They had noticed when there was shouting from the Dursley house, and after the shouting, the Potter Boy had not left the house for weeks, sometimes even months, and they hadn't seen him in windows. Now Lydia watched with them. She found him fascinating. She had noticed all the owls outside of number 4, had noticed when Mr. Dursley nailed the mail slot closed, when the egg guy had handed Mrs. Dursley the eggs through the window. She had seen when about 30 owls had dropped what must have been 100 letters down the chimney. She had seen the Dursleys and the Potter Boy clime into the car, Mr. Dursley missing great tufts out of his beard. She had been there when they had come back a week later, without the Potter Boy. He had turned up at about 6 later that night. She had seen when the Dursleys and the Potter Boy had driven away, and how the Potter boy had not come back for an entire summer. She had school, but as far as she was concerned, watching the house of #4 when the Potter Boy was home was much more entertaining. She had seen when Mr. Dursleys boss had gone to dinner. She had seen the Potter boy sent to his room. She couldn't see inside his room, the curtains were closed, later that night an owl had flown in the window and Mr. Dursleys boss's wife had come running out, covered in cake, screaming about birds and madhouses. Her husband had followed, and they had driven away, never to be seen again. A couple nights later, Lydia had been woken up by a noise, she went to her window and saw the potter Boy hanging out of the backdoor of a car, which happened to be flying, a boy with hair the color of shredded carrots pulled the boys arm, and with a final yank, pulled him into the car. Lydia rubbed her eyes, no more coke before bedtime. The Potter Boy wasn't seen the rest of the year.
The year after that, the summer she was eight, she had seen a lady who looked just like a female version of Mr. Dursley (complete with beard), who must have been his sister, walk into the Dursley house. She had stayed for a number of days. One day, at dinner, Lydia had looked out her window to see a giant balloon that looked just like a giant, inflated Mr. Dursleys sister. She giggled. The Potter Boy had run upstairs, probably to his room, she hadn't seen anything, he almost always had his curtains drawn. She saw run down, he tried to run out the door but had been stopped by Mr. Dursley, he had shouted a bit, the Potter Boy had shouted back. He had pulled a stick out of his trunk, and shouted some more. Mr. Dursley paled, than moved out of the way. The boy had run out the door and down the street. Unfortunately for her, dinner ended, she ran up to her upstairs window in time to see a giant purple bus disappear so fast she thought she had imagined it.
The year after that nothing much happened, one day there was what sounded like a mini explosion from #4, and the Potter Boy was gone but that was about it.
It was the year after that that things started to get weird. She was 10, She sat at her computer, when a crack split the air, and she heard a shriek, a bellowed oath and the sound of breaking china. Lydia rushed to her window. She saw the Potter Boy stand up from where he had been sitting in the bushes, while pulling a stick from somewhere. As he stood he smashed his head against the window with a bang that made Mrs. Dursley scream again. Lydia winced, that had to of hurt. She saw him sway, eyes streaming. She watched as Mr. Dursley wrapped his hands around the boy's throat. He hissed something in the boy's ear, the boy hissed back. He tried to pull out of Mr. Dursleys hands. Than, suddenly, Mr. Dursley yelped and let go. The Potter Boy fell over the bushes, looked around again, and saw all the people looking out their window at him; he stuffed the stick back into his pocket, looking innocent. Mr. Dursley had evidently seen them as well, for he said "Lovely evening" He waved at Lydia's mother, who was glaring at him, not for making noise, like he thought, but because he had seen him try to strangle his nephew. "Did you hear that car backfire just now? Gave Petunia and me quite a turn." He continued to grin in a horrible creepy way, until all the faces had gone from the windows. However he didn't see Lydia, who was still watching him. She saw his scary grin turn into a grimace of rage. He beckoned at the boy, who made sure to stop a few feet from Mr. Dursleys out stretched hands. She watched as they had a whispered conversation. She watched as the Potter Boy wheeled around, and strode angrily to the playground. About 20 minutes later she saw the Potter Boy half carring Dudley out of the alley way, that was a shortcut from the playground to Privet Drive, followed by Mrs. Figg. She watched as they hobbled down to #4, she watched as the Potter Boy pulled him to te door, than quickley ran away as Dudley vomited. She saw as the Dursleys opened their door, pulled Dudley in, and as the Potter Boy barley slipped in as the door closed. She saw 3 owls fly in than out of the house. A couple days later she saw the Dursleys (looking very happy) get into there car. The Potter Boy was not seen the rest of the summer.
Almighty Author: What did you think?
Julie: It was too short.
Chloe: I can't believe you stole my muses!
Almighty Author: You only had Julie and Michelle, and their both our friends, at least I use everyone, and if you do not stop complaing, I will not let you be a muse.
Chloe: TT
Julie: It was too short!
All: -.-'.
Almighty Author: I'm gonna write more. (if the nice people review)
Julie: People Review, I want to know what happens
Michelle: And if you flame, we will mock it on the next chappie
Ewa: or we will do...other stuff to you.
Lizzie: Like...have Mrs. Figg sing a song from Cats.
Ewa: In a tube top.
All (other than Ewa): Thwack Ewa on head EWA!
Ewa: It's Pronounced EVA!!!! mutters about incompotent morons