The World Through Emerald Eyes
Chapter Two
Ten Years Later...
"I told you, I'd win," Dudley Dursley boasted, putting his bike in the garage. "Pay up!" He held out his hand with a satisfied grin.
Harrison Hawthorne Dursley scoffed and reached into his pocket to get the five pounds his mother had given him last week and tossed them at his brother. "Whatever. If it weren't for me, you'd be fat and lazy," he told Dudley.
Harrison was a healthy eleven year old boy around five feet who played a lot of soccer. While athletic, he was solid rather than thin, but no where near heavy looking. His hair was cut in a way that made his messy black nest look like it was meant to be in disarray – the only way to wear it, his mother always said. He wore thin silver framed glasses that showed off his more aristocratic features that he had inherited from his birth father, and brought attention to the emerald eyes of his birth mother. Even at such a young age, Harrison had many fans amongst the girls in school.
His brother was a little shorter than him, hitting four feet eleven inches, but was thicker around. He had his father's bulk of bone, but after taking up sports with his brother, had run most of it off. He tended to wrestle with friends and play football, so he carried more muscle than his brother.
Despite being biologically cousins, both boys grew up closer than brothers. They had a lot in common and enjoyed hanging out with friends and playing games. Harrison was better in school while Dudley was more popular, but neither held it against the other. Rather, they made a point to tease each other about it.
Dudley pushed his brother back and ran into the house shouting, "You wish!"
Harrison was quick to follow, copying Dudley as he tossed off his shoes in the entry way. "You know I'm right!"
"Boys, no running in the house!" their mother called from the kitchen.
Dudley paused on the top step and both boys locked eyes as they winced. "Yes, mom!" they called as one.
After that, they tried to run up the stairs as quietly as possible.
"Get back here, fatso!" Harrison demanded, managing to catch Dudley before he shut the door to his room and tackled him to the floor. "Admit that I'm right! Do it!"
"Never, nerd!" Dudley denied and tossed the other off him.
"Idiot!"
"Loser!"
"Jerk!"
"Freak!"
Harrison froze and his smile fell from his lips immediately.
Dudley realized his mistake instantly and scrambled to stand up. "Harry, I'm sorry," he told him. "I didn't mean it." He reached over and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I promise."
Harrison shook his head and sighed and turned his gaze to the floor with a shrug. "I know you didn't mean it. Guess it doesn't matter though, does it? I am a freak."
"No you're not!" Dudley quickly interjected. "You're normal. Just like mom and dad." He nodded to back up his words.
Harrison glanced at his brother. "Except that I'm a wizard with magic and can talk to snakes," he replied in a self-deprecating tone. He brushed off Dudley's hand and ignored how his jaw dropped open in surprise.
"Don't say that!" Dudley rushed to say.
Harrison scowled and stood up straight. "It's true! I can do freaky things because I'm a freak with freaky abilities. I'll never be normal."
Dudley scowled right back and crossed his more muscled arms over his chest. "Your parents were freaks. It's not like you had a choice. So you're part freak, not all freak." He was deadly serious as he glared and tried to force the words into his brother's head. "You choose to be normal. That's what counts." This was a conversation that they had many times over the years and Dudley could be no more certain that Harrison was 'normal'.
Harrison opened his mouth to reply when they heard a deeper voice call out, "Boys! Come to the living-room, please!"
"Dad's home?" Harrison asked, surprised. It was Thursday and only one in the afternoon. Their dad should still be at Grunnings.
"Yeah, that's weird," Dudley agreed and together they made their way down the stairs. "Wonder what's wrong."
"Thing Mrs. Marks found the mouse you let loose in her house?" Harrison whispered, worried. He had helped catch it, after all. The last prank they did landed them three weeks grounding. Just because they got mom to let them off after four days didn't matter. They didn't want their dad mad at them again.
Dudley's face paled. "Shit, I hope not."
Harrison tisked. "Language Dudders. What would mom say?" he teased. He jumped out of the way when Dudley went to punch him and ran to the living-room, skidding to a stop in the doorway when he saw how serious his parents were. He only moved when Dudley bumped into his from behind, not quite able to stop himself in time.
"Mom? Dad?" Harrison asked hesitantly. "What's going on?"
Dudley, having sensed the atmosphere as quickly as his brother, straightened up and stood quietly, waiting to be reprimanded. But when it didn't come immediately, both boys shared a confused look.
Petunia shared a strained glance with her husband and worried over the purplish hue of his face before she turned to face her two amazing sons. "Boys, we have some news."
"Come sit down," Vernon interrupted and pointed to the couch.
With another look, Harrison and Dudley did as their father bid. They silently faced their parents, more worried than before.
Harrison spotted the streamer from this morning, happily proclaiming, "Happy Eleventh Harrison!" and instead of smiling, he felt a bad twist in his gut. "Why are you home so early, dad?" he asked when his mom didn't move to continue.
"Your mother called me after receiving some... news," he replied, face darkening.
"What news?" Dudley asked fearfully, mind still clearly on the mouse sitting in Mrs. Mark's cupboard.
Vernon didn't look away from them, but Patunia looked down at her hands, apron still on from working in the kitchen. "Today is your eleventh birthday Harrison, and we couldn't be happier," she started, hesitant and slightly stumbling over her words. "As you know, you're not really our son in blood. But that doesn't mean we love you any less. We love you as much as we love Dudley, and we've never treated you any different."
Dudley scrunched up his face at the conversation, trying to figure out where it was going. But Harrison only nodded. "I know that, mom," he replied, earning a smile from her.
"When your mother was eleven, she got her letter to Hog- Hog-" she shook her head and a nasty scowl overcame her lips, "to that nasty school."
A vein in Vernon's neck jumped at the mention of that freak school and Harrison grimaced as well. No one in the Dursley household liked hearing about magic. It was unnatural and freaky.
Petunia continued. "You know she accepted and studied to become – what she was. And all about her and your birth father; how they met and had you. Why they went into hiding and lost their lives..." she paused for a moment to honor her sister's memory, but made herself continue. "We've showed you the letter the Headmaster left us, so you know we've kept nothing from you."
Vernon took over because he wanted this conversation over and done with. "We figured moving away and into a more populated area would keep those freaks from coming to bother us. Apparently good people like us shouldn't think that those kinds of people would see the obvious that we wanted to be left alone." He frowned at the thought.
Harrison felt like he wanted to throw up. He clenched his hands into fists and forced himself to meet his father's clearly upset eyes. Even if he knew his dad loved him, he would never forgive himself for beinging any part similar to those freaks of nature. Even after ten years, there was still a small part in the back of his mind that hated himself. He didn't think he'd ever fully get over it.
His mother reached into the pouch of her apron and pulled out what looked to be an envelope. She turned it face side up and slid it onto the table in front of him. The address glared at him in emerald ink.
Mr. H Potter
Last bedroom on the second floor
23 West Isle St.
London, England
"Burn it," he said, eyes locked on the paper, his voice shockingly cold. "I want nothing to do with it. Or them." He looked up into his dad's relieved gaze. "May I be excused?"
"Yes," his dad replied, deflating. "Why don't you both go play some video games? Your mother's almost done with dinner."
Harrison nodded and rose. He was too ashamed to look at his family right now and kept his head down. The footsteps behind him told him that Dudley had followed. He wasn't sure if he wanted company right now. He said as much. He really just wanted to wallow in self pity.
"Well, I'm not going to allow that," Dudley told him. "Come on," he said and wrapped an arm around Harrison's shoulder to steer him to the game room. "Let me kick your butt in Halo."
Harrison didn't smile, but let himself be dragged. He let Dudley make light of the mood and try to distract them. He even let his parents make small talk over dinner, but when the lights were out and he was alone in his bed, Harrison let himself cry.
Why was he a freak? Why did he have to have parents with magic? Why couldn't he just be normal? Hell, why wouldn't the wizarding world just leave him alone? He had been getting along just fine, pretending that he couldn't understand snakes and that he could die Dudley's hair blue with just a thought.
The memory of his revenge on Dudley made him smile, but only for a moment. Things like that weren't normal or natural. Magic wasn't natural. It didn't matter how many times Dudley told him he wasn't a freak, because that was what he was.
That night, Harrison didn't fall asleep until well into the morning.
A shrill scream awoke Harrison who screamed in shock and jerked out of bed. He fell to the floor with a thud and grumbled a complaint as he forced himself to rise, squinting around his room.
"Vernon!" his mother yelled and Harrison suddenly found himself entirely awake.
Snatching his glasses from his bedside, he flung away the sheets still caught on his legs and dashed out of his room, nearly slamming into Dudley who flew out of his room. They had only reached the bottom steps of the stairs when they saw their mom and dad in front of the door.
"Mom? Dad?" Harrison looked around, trying to see if someone had broken in or if something was missing, but couldn't tell. "What's wrong?"
"Kitchen, now," Vernon's voice broke no room for argument and both boys practically ran for the stools. Breakfast was already there, meaning their mom had probably been about to get them up.
While Dudley began to eat his plate, Harrison couldn't stomach a single bite, still upset from yesterday. Instead, he glanced around the pristine kitchen, admiring how clean and up-to-date it was. White and silver were everywhere and there was not a speck of dirt in sight.
Steps to his right alerted him and he watched his parents walk around the kitchen isle and face them.
Vernon slammed something down on the table which caused them both to jump. "I won't have this, do you hear me?!" he demanded, withdrawing his hand from the table. There, crumpled from his tight grip were three more letters, identical to yesterday's.
Harrison's blood drained from his face and his mouth went dry. "Why is this happening?" he asked, fighting frustrated tears. He just wanted to be left alone. He didn't care that he was 'magical' or some sort of hero of the people. He was just Harrison Dursley, loved son and brother. Nothing more!
He heard his dad take a few deep breaths to calm himself and then felt a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up, Vernon didn't look angry at him. At the situation? Most definitely. But Harrison couldn't detect a bit directed at him. "It's not your fault. It's theirs for not leaving us alone. They can't take a hint."
"Maybe you should open them," his mom said.
Harrison turned to gape at her. "What!? Why!?"
"Not like that," she frowned at him, not liking him yelling. "But to refuse. I don't know if there are ways for them to tell if the letter was opened or not."
Harrison scowled. "You'd think they'd be able to tell when a letter was burned," he replied.
His dad's hand squeezed approvingly on his shoulder and he was able to sit a little straighter in pride because of it. He let out a breath. "Okay," he said at least and reached for a letter. He stared at the address for a long moment. "How much power do these freaks have? They didn't even get my name right," he muttered, irritated.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his mom smile tensely and heard Dudley snort.
"Just tell them to bugger off," Dudley said, careful not to speak with his mouth full. One thing their mother hadn't given up on despite their complaining was learning basic etiquette.
Harrison gave a laugh and nodded. He opened the envelope with a cringe, already hating everything it stood for. He unfolded the letter within and read to himself.
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Harrison sneered at the offensive paper. He felt contaminated just holding it. He turned it over to the blank side and looked at his dad. "Can I have a pen?" His father, who had been dressed for work already, reached inside his coat and pulled out a sleek, black pen and handed it over.
"Thanks," he said and began to write.
Dear Deputy Headmistress,
I will not be attending your school this year, or any year. Please refrain from sending any more letters as they will be ignored.
Harrison paused here. It seemed like the wizarding world either didn't know about or care about his adoption. Should he sign his legal name? Or would they ignore the denial?
Scowling deeply, he finished with, 'Yours Sincerely, Harry James Potter,' a name he hadn't gone by in ten years.
He folded up the paper and stuck it back in the envelope, taking out the other two pieces. He carelessly scratched off the address. "Who do I send it to? I can't just put the name of that school down. The mail man would laugh his arse off."
His mother cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Actually, you can. They have ways of weeding out mail addressed to them."
Harrison's brow furrowed. "How do you know that?"
"It doesn't matter how I know!" she suddenly yelled. "Just do it and get that disgusting stuff out of our home!" She practically ran from the kitchen, leaving Harrison confused and hurt.
"Yes, mom," he replied even though she wouldn't hear. He finished off the address and handed it to his father who nodded.
"Good lad," he said and patted Harrison's shoulder. He did the same to Dudley. "See you both after work," he told them and left without another word.
Harrison didn't feel any better, but at least he didn't feel any worse. More than anything, he feared disappointing his adopted parents who loved and cared for him so much. He bit his lip to distract himself from the heat growing behind his eyes and shook his head. He needed a distraction.
"Want to go play soccer?" he asked, turning to Dudley.
Swallowing, Dudley pouted. "I haven't finished eating."
Harrison rolled his eyes and fought off a laugh. No matter what his brother said, he was certain Dudley would be a fat lump without him. He ate three times as much as a boy his age. It was a miracle there was constantly food in the house at all.
Their mother was a miracle worker. There was no doubt.
Harrison shook his head and sighed. He took his plate and gave it to Dudley. "Here, have mine. I'm not hungry." He stood up and crumpled the two remaining envelopes in his hands.
"You sure?" Dudley asked even as he scraped the food onto his own plate.
"Yeah. I'm going to my room. Just come get me when you're done." He threw the remaining letters in the trash as he went and quickly made to his room, eyes narrowed in anger and irritation at the whole situation.
Harrison practically fell onto his bed with a huff and threw his arms over his head. Above him, dozens of start stuck to his ceiling. They were dull from over-use, but the glow in the dark lights still shone from time to time, giving the boy who was once afraid of the dark some comfort.
He shifted to get comfortable when a rustling in his pocket made him freeze. His heart beat in his chest loudly and his breath left him. He laid still for an entire minute before warily reaching into his pocket. He had expected another haunting letter to appear on his person, but was relieved to see crumpled slips of paper.
Puzzled, Harrison unballed them only to see the other two sheets that had accompanied his letter. He didn't remember putting them in his pocket. He scowled at them as if they offended him, and really, they kind of did.
Harrison resisted the urge to roll them up and toss them in his trash, a sudden interest in what the curriculum was at a magic school.
He snorted. That sounded funny even in his head.
Harrison began humming a melody his mother had taught him as he smoothed out the papers on his chest. No harm in taking a look, right? He lifted the pages over his head to see the words. He was surprised to see that both pages were part of one whole list.
First-year students will require:
Uniforms -
Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)
One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear
One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times.
Books -
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment-
1 Wand
1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set of brass scales
Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.
What the bloody hell was this? Dragon hide? Transfiguration? Potions? A bloody cauldron!? Sneering heavily, Harry tossed the list into his trash bin. Utter rubbish, it was. All of it. Scowling when he couldn't get comfortable, he hollered, "You ready yet, Dudley!?"
"No shouting!" his mother's fierce voice shrilly reprimanded from downstairs.
Harrison cracked a smile despite himself.
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