-Shipping News–

By: Ariana Snicket

Rating: PG - PG-13

Disclaimer:

See chapter numero uno.

Summary:

The Baudelaires are being shipped to a very distant relative. Again. Unfortunately (for the family they're being shipped to), or fortunately (for the Baudelaires) there's already an orphan there. His name: Harry Potter.

WARNINGS:

I can't think of any at the moment…

Reviewers:

Smartlilazn: Thank you!

Nny11: The coffee-stain, huh? Well, you'll just have to find out… -winkwinknudgenudge-

Rock Raider: All over the world,yes. Originally, I thought the Baudelaires lived in England, but then I realized they could be living almost anywhere. I really hate Count Olaf, I really, REALLY do. Really. And I hope you do too…

Tiggerlily130: I really hope it turns out okay. My writing skills aren't that awesome, but I try.

ZeldaDragon: Thank you very much! I did notice some of the similarities as well, and thought I'd make a crossover out of it. And I really do try to make my grammar as grammatically correct as possible, but I may have a few slip-ups here and there. Just ignore them if you find them, or Aunt Josephine will kill me. –hides-

Meteora Theory: Thank you very much! I really hope you do like it!

ANYWAY, ON TO THE STORY!

"Who in their right mind would want to have a name like 'Dursley!?'"

Klaus sighed and buried his face in his hands, the paper crinkling beneath his elbows. Sunny looked up at him and shrieked "Gahlo!" which probably meant something along the lines of "That isn't the sort of name that inspires hope and happiness to three orphans about to be adopted by a person with it."

"Thank you, Sunny, for your evaluation." Klaus said dryly, but muffled because his hands were covering his mouth.

Violet put a hand on Klaus's shoulder. "Don't worry, Klaus. I'm sure they're very friendly. It sounds more of like a clean name to me, anyway. Maybe…maybe they like to clean…?"

"Kahdba!" Sunny said, as Klaus went back into his in-the-zone staring contest with Mr. Poe's headrest. Violet didn't bother to translate, but instead leaned back in her seat and tied her hair back up with her ribbon, which had fallen out of her hair when Mr. Poe's driving skills had temporarily vanished.

Almost immediately the gears in her mind started to whirl, now trying to figure out the materials needed for a Recyclable Stuffy Car Air Freshener. Violet didn't really want to talk or pay attention to the conversation (or lack of) Mr. Poe started. Besides, inventing was a helpful way to tune out Mr. Poe's coughing fits, and so she started to zone out as well. Sunny, the only one not a zombie, scowled. Instead of biting the seatbelt, she crawled down and bit Klaus's shoe.

"Ow!" Klaus hissed, rubbing his toe.

"Jaer." Sunny said, which probably meant "Sorry, but your shoe tastes better than the seatbelt."

"Children," Mr. Poe started, but then paused for a fit of coughing while the car performed ballet, "The Dursleys are nice, sensible people. They live in a quaint little area, perfect for playing in, if you do that sort of thing anymore."

"Chabek?" Sunny asked, looking green.

"I believe the area they live in is called Little Whinging, and to be more precise, Number 4, Privet Drive."

"In Surrey?" Klaus said, snapping out of his little dream world to answer the question. He had read all about Surrey and many other areas that resided in Europe, and he was eager for a conversation that was not only interesting, but also one he already knew everything about.

"Yes, yes." Mr. Poe said, not going any further on the subject, much to Klaus's disappointment. "Mr. Dursley has a job in the drill business, and Mrs. Dursley is a full-time mother. Their son, Dudley, is around your age. I think you'll have fun living with them."

The Baudelaires looked at each other. They were all thinking the same thing: A son? Someone they could talk to other than their guardians? It almost seemed like a dream come true.

They would just have to wait and see.

"Ah, here we are!" Mr. Poe said, the car turning into a quaint little area that looked to clean for its own good. The houses were all variations of the same color, and each of their lawns as rolling and green as algae (the parts they could see, anyway). Snow adorned every rooftop, and sparkly lights decorated some of the houses.

Violet looked out the window, sighing. "Well, the house looks normal," She said.

Klaus peered over her shoulder. "No one we ever lived with had Christmas lights on Christmas. And it's not even December!"

"Sparkly!"

Klaus let his indignant look slip from his face and smiled at his younger sister. "Yes, the lights are very sparkly."

Sunny smiled as Mr. Poe's car turned into one of the house's driveway. Violet was right. This house looked so clean that if you threw mud at it, the mud would just slip right off.

"Yes, children, just jump right out and knock on the door. I'll carry your suitcases."

Klaus opened the car door and stepped out into the cold and snowy weather. The driveway was icy, but a little bit of salt had been sprinkled on it so it wouldn't be as slippery. On the other side of the car, Violet had gotten out, Sunny in her arms. Her hair already had begun to accumulate large amounts of snowflakes. Klaus's head was almost completely white with only a little brown showing through, and a fine layer of snow had begun to coat his arms like an icy blanket. Sunny was laughing at them.

"You shouldn't be talking, Sunny," Klaus said, grinning at the amount of snow that covered her. Sunny stopped laughing and scowled.

They approached the door, which (thankfully) was completely blank except for a tiny window. No eye. Nothing. Just as blank…clean…door.

All the Baudelaires sighed in relief.

Mr. Poe came up from behind them laden with suitcases and the like, huffing and hacking in the cold air. His breath showed as white mist that trailed along behind him, and that sharply contrasted with his dark brown coat and black hair.

The Baudelaires looked at each other as Mr. Poe set down the suitcases on the snow-covered porch and knocked, twice, on the front door. A rustling could be heard from inside, and shouts of "Go get it, boy!" and, then, after a few seconds, "Why don't you!?"

The Baudelaires stared at the door, about to bolt back to the car if need be.

Mr. Poe knocked again, but before he could finish his third knock, the door swung open. Klaus stepped backwards, surprised, and Sunny gave a little whimper.

Standing in the doorway was a rather large man, with a large mustache and beady little eyes. He had almost no neck at all, and his three or more chins covered up the neck he did have.

"What do you want?" He asked, gruffly.

"Vernon Dursley, I believe?" Mr. Poe asked, and the supposed Mr. Dursley grunted. "Ah, yes. I'm here with the three Baudelaire children you adopted. If you just sign here, I'll hand them over to you."

Mr. Poe took out one of the papers out that Klaus had looked at, and handed it to the man, who looked dumbfounded.

"I didn't adopt any orphans," He said, his mustache quivering.

"Of course you did! I called you, and you said you'd be happy to make arrangements. After all, you are the last of the Baudelaire relatives. Their will was very specific." Mr. Poe stated importantly.

"I DID NOT adopt any BLOODY ORPHANS!" He yelled, and slammed the door in their faces. Through the window, they could see that he had turned to the stairs, and through the door, they could hear a shouted, "BOY, GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

They all stared at the door, not daring to move.

A muffled pounding was heard, and they all supposed it was this "boy" trudging quickly down the stairs. More footsteps. Then large, heavy ones sounded, and then stopped.

"BOY! EXPLAIN!" Mr. Dursley's voice rang out.

"Explain what?" Said a muffled, cool voice.

"The PEOPLE at the DOOR!"

"There are people at the door?"

"Don't be smart with me, boy!"

"I don't know any people at the door."

"Augh! PETUNIA!"

Muffled stomping. More shouts, but Mr. Poe and the Baudelaires couldn't quite hear what was being said.

Then, quite suddenly, the door opened again.

A boy stood there, tall, thin. He looked about 16, with jet-black hair and piercingly green eyes hidden behind glasses. He was grinning slightly.

Violet took a step forward as Mr. Poe shuffled out of the way. Klaus and Sunny looked disbelievingly at her. She turned around and whispered, "We should probably make a good impression."

And then she turned to the boy.

"Hello," she said in a shaky voice, extending an arm. "I'm Violet Baudelaire, this is my brother, Klaus, and my sister, Sunny." The other siblings nodded in turn, snow shaking everywhere.

"And that's-" Klaus pointed to Mr. Poe, "-Mr. Poe. He manages orphan affairs."

Mr. Poe huffed.

"Hello," Said the boy.

"Are you Dudley?" Klaus asked, nervously.

The boy stared, then started to laugh quite hard. The Baudelaires stared at him back.

"Dudley? Dudley…" He choked out. "No, no…"

The Baudelaires looked at each other.

"Well, then, who are you?" Violet asked.

"Oh." The boy said, and stopped laughing. He started grinning instead. "I'm Harry. Harry Potter."