Chapter 2

By the time Harry was let out of the cupboard, his idiotic cousin, Dudley, had already managed to break half of his birthday presents. Harry had been locked in his "bedroom" for one of many strange incidents that revolved around him.

Now, most sensible adults would consider the glass disappearing from the front of the boa constrictor enclosure a freak accident. They would almost certainly want to know why the keeper of the reptile house had been so neglectful. Unfortunately for Harry, his uncle and aunt weren't like most sensible adults.

Despite appearances, to which they had done exactly that - they had complained, and the zoo director himself had been forced to apologise profusely. Once they were home, however, and Dudley's friend was safely out of the house, they acted completely irrationally. Suddenly it was all Harry's fault that the reptile had escaped.

Harry lay in his cupboard fuming; it wasn't fair. He had lost his watch at the zoo, so he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. His aunt and uncle's unfavourable view of events hadn't been helped by Dudley telling his parents that the snake had nearly bitten his leg off. Or his friend, Piers, who said it had tried to squeeze them to death.

At least during the day he could wander around as much as he liked, and think about the end of the holidays. At his current school, Harry had no one to associate with. Dudley and his gang hated Harry with his baggy old clothes and broken glasses. And nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

However, when September came, he would be going to Stonewall High, the local comprehensive. Dudley had found this hilarious because it had a reputation for being rough, and liked to joke that they flushed people's heads down the toilet. These taunts hadn't been nearly as effective as his cousin had intended.The chance to have a new start, all to himself and without his family, was something that Harry valued highly.

The day Harry saw his "new" uniform was depressing. He had awoken to a horrible smell and followed it to a large metal tub in the kitchen. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like filthy rags swimming in dirty water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. It had been a risk, he knew that but asking questions always was in this household. Predictably, her lips tightened as they always did if he asked a question.

"Your new school uniform," she replied simply.

He looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't realise it had to be so wet."

It would make her angry but he hadn't eaten breakfast, and couldn't quite resist the dig. He knew uniforms could be expensive but honestly, was a second hand set too much to ask for?

"Don't act stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dying some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I'm finished."

Harry seriously doubted this. Of course a standard uniform was too much to ask. He was Harry Potter - no parents, no family, no friends…and currently no breakfast. This distracted him from imagining how he would look at Stonewall High - like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in quite late and Harry had already swiped a substantial amount of food from their plates. He had become quite adept at this and it was very easy considering his aunt was distracted with his uniform.

Uncle Vernon had just opened his newspaper as usual when he heard the click of the letterbox and the flop of letters onto the doormat.

"Get the post, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"I'll get it," Harry quickly interrupted, eyeing Dudley carefully. His cousin was far too eager to bang things with his smelting stick, which he carried everywhere. Harry could see himself becoming a victim in the near future.

Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry.

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one had ever, in his whole life, written to him. When he was little, he had always imagined some unknown relative coming to rescue him, but of course, they had not. The Dursley's were his only relatives and he had no friends - so who could have sent it?

And here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey

Strangely, there was no stamp and the envelope was oddly thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment with the address in green ink. Even queerer, the envelope had been closed with a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter "H".

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter-bombs?"

Harry breathed in sharply, if the Dursleys knew he had a letter, they would take it from him. He pushed the letter into his pocket as carefully as he could, but he could feel the edge crumple slightly. Harry traipsed back into the kitchen and nonchalantly handed his uncle the bill and the postcard.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk…"

That evening, Harry finally got to read his letter. He took a deep breath and straightened out the envelope. His hands trembled with excitement as he carefully pulled out the letter - which was written in green ink, on that same yellowish parchment, giving it the quality of looking old - and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress

For a few seconds he just held the letter and blinked with thick lashes, completely dumbfounded. Then anger washed over him, making his chest clench painfully and his cheeks flush. This…this had to be a joke.

His first letter and it says, "reply by owl?"

The Dursleys were probably upstairs rolling around laughing about it now, he thought furiously. Eyes burning, he awkwardly brushed away a treacherous tear and screwed the letter into a messy ball before unceremoniously tossing it aside.

While he ate his midnight snack, Harry wondered if his relatives really had the imagination for that sort of joke, but quickly dismissed it as foolish, wishful thinking.

A/N: Something weird happened to the format when I uploaded this, so I had to put all the chapters back in.

-Thanks a lot, Shay-Piratess for helping me and being my beta. This chapter would have been a lot messier otherwise.-