Rain pelted down on the roofs of the houses on Privet Drive. The drought of the year past was long over now, replaced with never ending rain and drizzle. The gardens on the street suffered again, now from too much water instead of too little. The rain was falling painfully on the head of a teenage boy who was standing in front of one of the houses on said Privet Drive. He wiped the rain from his glasses, leaving streaks of grime upon them.
"Bloody brilliant." He muttered. Harry Potter was leaning over a flower bed in front of number four, Privet Drive, pulling weeds out of the muddy ground, on his birthday. The voice of his loathsome Aunt Petunia, a skinny, horsefaced woman who never knew to mind her own business, carried through the half open window.
"Are you almost done out there? I have more chores for you before the MacPhersons get here, do hurry up!" She screeched.
Harry swore under his breath. "Yes, Aunt Petunia!" He said loudly. Finally, when there was not a weed that Harry could see left in the garden (albeit, he could not see very much as account of the grime and water running down his glasses) he stepped back through the kitchen door. Harry was used to work. He had always been worked hard by his family, but this summer had been the worst. Harry was waiting for the day that he got to leave Privet Drive. First he would be going to 12 Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, but then he would go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for school, which was his favourite place in the world. He had many adventures over his five years there, and made close friends, and many enemies. Lord Voldemort, Harry's nemesis, had returned in Harry's fourth year – thirteen years after he attempted to kill Harry and the spell backfired, weakening him instead. But he had succeeded in killing both of Harry's parents, explaining again why Harry was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, dripping wet and muddy to boot.
"Goodness, you're filthy!" Petunia cried. "All over my clean floor! Take off your shoes, and quickly, up stairs and get dressed! I need you to vacuum the living room before tonight!"
Harry nodded and ran up the stairs. He stripped off his wet shirt and stood there for a moment. He could have sworn he heard a bang… a bang, just like the one he had heard almost exactly a year earlier, when Mundungus Fletcher had disapparated from Privet Drive when watching Harry. Harry stepped slowly to the window and peered out. He couldn't see much. Rain pelted his windows, blurring his view of the outside world. There was nothing there. Harry felt a slight prickle in his forehead – his scar. He put his hand to his forehead. Voldemort couldn't be here… it was impossible…
Don't be ridiculous, Harry thought. No one has any reason to apparate here. This time it really was just an engine backfiring. Nevertheless, he put a clean shirt and a clean pair of jeans on and ventured downstairs warily.
"Let's go, boy, your aunt doesn't have all day!" Uncle Vernon screamed. He was a big man, with a large moustache and no neck, and his face often turned to spectacular shades of purple when he was angry. Luckily, it was not changing colour right now. Harry nodded to his uncle and walked into the kitchen where Petunia, dressed in a cocktail dress and an apron, was waiting.
"Here." She shoved a piece of bread and butter at him. "Then you will go and clean up that mess you made when you came in! You're very lucky that your cousin Dudley is so neat and I didn't have much to clean, or there would be nothing left of you!"
Harry smirked. Dudley was not neat. Dudley was a brute of a boy, wider than he was tall, vaguely resembling a large sow. He had even once had the tail. Dudley would spend all of his days in front of the television, rarely moving other than to get food or to go to the toilet. But somehow he still managed to make a mess of his own room, destroying his computers and televisions and electronic toys.
Harry used to be jealous of everything Dudley had, but it didn't bother him any more. He didn't even mind that his aunt and uncle had forgotten his birthday yet again. Oddly enough, this was the second time since Harry's Hogwarts career had begun that Uncle Vernon had a business client over for supper on Harry's birthday.
Vernon called everyone into the dining room, as he had the last time, and went over the routine. Dudley was to take Mr. and Mrs. MacPherson's coats from them with a polite smile, Petunia was to invite Mrs. MacPherson into the parlour for drinks and hors d'oeuvres while Vernon showed Mr. MacPherson his beautiful house.
Again, Harry had to duck under the table to stop himself from laughing at Dudley. "You, boy!" Vernon barked at him. "What will you be doing?"
"I will be in my room," Harry said, stifling a laugh, "making no noise and pretending I'm not there – just like last time."
Vernon narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Not one sound, boy. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you slip away every year. It won't happen this time. As much as we dislike having you here, we would rather have that than have you cavorting around with those- " He paused and glanced outside. "Magic weirdoes of yours." He whispered.
Harry nodded. "Of course not, Uncle Vernon." He paused.
Uncle Vernon then sent Harry upstairs as he went over the routine with Aunt Petunia and Dudley again. When Harry got upstairs, there was an owl waiting for him. "Well, hello there," Harry said, taking the letter off the owls leg and bringing out Hedwig's water bowl for it to drink out of.
The letter had the Hogwarts crest, and Harry opened it anxiously. His OWL results were inside of it. This could either make his day or ruin it…
Dear Mr. Potter:
Congratulations on finishing your OWLs. Your results are enclosed.
The lifetime ban that was set upon you last year is no longer in effect.
Sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall
Deputy Head Mistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry pulled out the second piece of paper with his OWLs on it and read it quickly.
Potions: Exceeds Expectations
Divination: Acceptable
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding
Charms: Outstanding
Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations
History of Magic: Exceeds Expectations
Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding
Astronomy: Exceeds Expectations
Herbology: Exceeds Expectations
Total OWLs: Nine
Harry was a little shocked. Exceeds Expectations in Potions? That was his biggest surprise. Nine OWLs. He had earned them, he knew he had studied hard enough for them, but it was still a surprise.
From downstairs, Harry heard the doorbell ring. "That will be them." He heard Vernon say loudly. Harry was just reading over his book list when he heard something he was not expecting to hear. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Vernon asked loudly.
Harry leapt down the first set of stairs and stuck his head around the corner, then proceeded to almost fall down the rest of the stairs. Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was standing in the front hallway, followed by Professor McGonagall, the deputy head mistress, and Harry's house mistress.
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Well, if that chapter seemed a little odd, it was because it was originally the first chapter. I changed it around a bit, but it still had most of the starter information about Harry and such, which I liked in this chapter better than the first.
Rowenhood: I think you were the one who wrote that incredibly apologetic review that you insisted was not a flame? I had such a good response for it too. Oh well. What I was going to say (though it was going to be much more long winded) was that this is one of my weaker stories, because it doesn't really have a plan, it's just all the stuff I wanted to write about that I didn't do in my other stories, because they were just there to make me happy (well, this one is too). And if that was you, than I will say: you don't have to apologize for criticism. That's the point of reviews! As long as it's constructive, it's all cool!
Please review!
-unolimbo