I'm back! With a new supercamofragilisticexpialadocious chapter!

All I have to say is that: - JK Rowling is our Queen

Her books have a regal sheen

Her stories are supreme

This is why all the Harry Potter fans say

JK ROWLING IS OUR QUEEN!

Nope, I don't own Harry Potter

Welcome home, thought Harry dourly as he went to his room, or should we say Dudley's old bedroom. He was getting better treatment as he would mutter some gibberish under his breath, claiming it was magic, and send the Durseleys into fits of fear. This was the only enjoyment he derived from his stay at the Durseleys. He would mutter "Higgledeley, poogdelley, hocus pocus, crocus locus," just to see Dudley run about, arms flailing in the air, screaming for his mummy. This fear of magic was used to his advantage. Petunia would immediately serve him more dinner when he opened his mouth, probably to begin a 'spell'. Vernon would grudgingly hand him the remote when he asked him for it. He wished Ron, Hermione or someone would come and whisk him away from this hellhole which was called his 'home'.

He opened Hedwig's cage, put a message on her foot and tried to make her deliver the message to Ron's. Hedwig screeched. Harry did not hear a screech. Instead, he heard 'Yo. I'm tired! Lemme sleep! I'm nocturnal, you twit!' Wait. Who the hell said that?! Was it Hedwig? No, only wizards can understand animals talk. And Doctor Doolittle. But he was a wizard, wasn't he? Not officially, but yes, he was one. This was too much for him. The only other good thing about living with the Durseleys was that the voices in his head were less compared to when he was in ah, Hogwarts. 'I'm going bonkers,' was the last thing he thought, before he collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

Sirius witnessed all of this, hidden in the bushes as a dog. 'Harry!' he barked out, anxious. Looking to see if there was no one around, he morphed back into his human form. Muttering "Alohomara," he opened the Durseley's front door. He clambered up the stairs to Harry's room in the form of a dog.

Harry lay sprawled on the floor, his round glasses askew. Sirius let out a howl full of sadness. He licked Harry's face in an effort to revive him.

Harry, meanwhile was aware of only two things:-1) he was going bonkers: and2) something wet and rough was running up and down his face. He quickly jumped back into consciousness. A huge, shaggy black shape was hovering above him. Calm down, a deep voice reassured him. He had heard this voice somewhere, but where? "How did you get in here?" Through the front door, where else? "Are you- are you a wizard?" Kind of. "Harry? Is that a DOG in there?" "Hide, boy." I'm fully grown. "Whatever. Just Hide!" Harry's voice became urgent. Vernon, his uncle, came to his room. "Don't act smart. I heard you barking. I know that you can't talk to animals, so don't act like you can." "No, uncle. I was doing homework." "Oh, from that freak-house of a school of yours?" Harry bristled with anger. Nobody called Hogwarts a freak-house! A surge of pure anger hit him. He felt like throttling Uncle Vernon. Wait till he was authorized to use magic. You'd become a death eater if you harbour such thoughts. But you want to fight them, right? "Yes, I want to!" He was brought back to reality with a snap. A sudden wave of emotions filled him. He ran his fingers through the dog's soft, silky fur and began to cry.

Sirius was shocked. This boy could understand -and talk - Canistounge, the language of dogs! He remembered James, who could understand animal languages too. Nobody knew how. Many a day passed with James calming distraught animals in Hogwarts. But Sirius knew, and guarded this secret with tooth and claw. The Potters were originally Beastmasters, people who understood animals. He trembled as he remembered the prophecy that was passed down from generation to generation. 'The power within every Living Being can be harnessed by every first- born Potter, son or daughter who is a wizard. Their power will come into existence on their 10th Birthday. They will, and must, use their powers for good, and only good.' Harry-you're special, he said and ran down the stairs, out of the front door, out of Privet Drive.

R eminder to self-contact Hermione tomorrow to ask about crazy happenings in my life, Harry thought as his head hit the pillow. That dog-or that wizard acting as dog-had just said that he was special and run out, just like that. What was so special about him, besides the fact that he was a wizard-in-training, who spoke Parsletounge and other animal languages-maybe? He could not form an answer to his question, as the tendrils of sleep had pulled him under.

How's it? I might not be updating for a long time as exams are coming up. Pls review and spread the word-good ones, mind you. Reviews make me HAPPY! Happiness=high self-esteem=quicker updates!

Aayu10 out!