Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters or books. Everything belongs to J.K Rowling.

Mariah Frazier, Katarina Wallace, Shelby Jacob and Kaitlyn Lujan are my characters.

The Vanishing Glass

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked away from each other to avoid laughing.

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all.

"Are they treating you nice Harry?" asked James, "because if not the year I marry Lily, I will lay down the law with them!"

The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls.

Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets — but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother.

"Ha-ha! Momma's boy! Momma's boy!" The Marauders shouted together. Everyone burst out laughing at their antics.

The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.

"Why not? Where are you at Harry?" asked Sirius.

Yet Harry Potter was still there,

"If you are still there, how come there are no pictures?" asked Remus. "You'll see why in well the next paragraph."

asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

"That is a lovely thing to hear first thing in the morning. I love being woken up by high-pitched squeals." Said Sirius.

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

"How does he remember that? I don't remember anything up until I was 6 years old!" said Kat.

His aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

"Why can't she cook?" asked Lily. "She's actually a really good cook."

Harry groaned.

"She's not going to like that," said James.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing…"

Dudley's birthday — how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

"I'M GOING TO KILL HER!" yelled James and Lily.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike.

"Why would he want a racing bike? He's a fat porker! He probably broke it the first time he rode the bike," said Sirius. Harry nodded, "He did. I was laughing my as- butt off, I had to clean the whole house for that."

Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise — unless of course it involved punching somebody.

Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.

Lily looked furious, she knew where her sister lived, when this year was over, she was going to take her sister's head off. "If she lets that son of hers touch a single hair on his head I will kill her! I mean it, I will kill her." Said Sirius, "they might as well get a cell in Azkaban ready for me!" Again Harry, Ron and Hermione had to look away to keep from laughing at how close he was.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age.

"Nope, you're built exactly like your father. I've never seen anyone who could dodge a spell faster then him," said Peter.

He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobby knees, black hair,

"Yep you're built exactly like James."

and bright green eyes.

He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.

"They won't even get his glasses fixed after their son BROKE THEM!" James got up and punched the wall several times. When he sat back down Lily took his hand and fixed where the skin had broke on his knuckles.

The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

"I still don't understand how I liked that scar, it's horrible." "Remember, this was before everyone declared you famous by just looking at your scar. If you had got it in any other way, it would be pretty cool," said Ron.

He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said.

"They told you that we died in a car crash, oh I swear, Petunia will be very sad she was EVER mean to you. Her great-great grandkids are going to feel the pain I release on her." Said Lily.

"And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions — that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Lily and James were so mad, they were speechless.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.

"Yeah like that will help," said James and Sirius together.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way — all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs, by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head.

"So like a pig in a wig," James said.

Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel — Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

"YES!" exclaimed James, earning him a questioning look from everyone else. "What?" he asked defensively, "We think alike, that's all." "Oh poor Harry, you think like your father, I'm so sorry," said Lily. Everyone started laughing because of the look on James' face. "I know, it's such a horrible thing," said Harry.

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"They had better give you that many presents!" said James. Harry started laughing. "Ha! I was lucky if they remembered my birthday, let alone get almost 40 presents.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…"

"Wow! He's stupid," said McGonagall. Every one stared at McGonagall in amazement. She never called anyone stupid. "No he just made me do his homework. All of it," said Harry.

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then." Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father.'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

"No he's a spoiled brat. And you are encouraging him!" said Lily. "Mum, I really don't think that he would have gotten all of those presents if I wouldn't have been there."

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR.

"A what?" asked James. "A VCR, it's an electronic box that when you stick a VHS tape in it, it plays a movie," said Lily.

He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch, when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him."

"She had better not mean you!" said Lily.

She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Sounds like a lot of fun," said Remus.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy." The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there — or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"Those horrible rotten Muggles." Sirius grumbled. "My poor, poor godson." "What do you mean godson?" asked James. "You mean I'm not his god father?" "No more like my uncle. I mean you and Dad are like brothers aren't you? I think that Remus would be my god father." "What about me?" asked Peter. "Haven't figured that out yet," said Harry.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"She won't let you stay home by yourself now that you suggested it," said Lily.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"It's not like he's going to blow up the house," said James.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"Oh you poor child! You and your father do think alike," said Lily.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "… and leave him in the car…"

"He's not a FREAKIN' DOG," yelled James.

"That car's new; he's not sitting in it alone…"

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying — it had been years since he'd really cried — but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums,

"Ha, that poor child," said Sirius. "I still think that he's a spoiled brat, but I do feel sorry for him with a name like that."

don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"'Spoil your precious day? What is he a baby?"

"I… don't… want… him… t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms. Just then, the doorbell rang — "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically — and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother.

Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Everyone was speechless at how he acted, and the fact that Petunia bought it all.

Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy — any funny business, anything at all — and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas." "I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses.

Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off.

"Petunia's just going to hate that," said Lily.

He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly. Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls).

"Ewwwwwwwww!"

The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished. On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens.

"You apparated? How old were you?" asked Remus.

"You must be a really powerful wizard. No one has accidentally apparated," said James.

Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trashcans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump. But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

"That's just sad," said James sadly.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles. "… roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."

But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon — they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop.

"At least they got me something," said Harry.

It wasn't bad, either,

"That was my favorite ice cream as a kid," said Lily. "It was mine too. At least, it was my favorite muggle ice cream," said James.

Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.

Everyone burst out laughing at Harry's thought.

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him.

They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.

Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

"What do you do Harry?" asked Lily. "How do you know it was me?" asked Harry.

After lunch they went to the reptile house.

"Does this have something to do with 'The Vanishing Glass'?" asked James. "I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, innocently.

It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can— but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge. "Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on. "This is boring," Dudley moaned.

He shuffled away.

Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself — no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.

It winked.

"Snakes can wink?" asked Sirius.

Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.

"Harry James Potter! What in the name of Merlin's pants are you doing?" asked Lily. "Harry James Potter?" asked James. "It sounded right." "Well that is my middle name," said Harry.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

"Why are you talking to it?" exclaimed James, "Stop it!"

"I think Harry might be a Parselmouth," Remus said quietly.

"Are you?" James asked. Harry just ignored them.

The snake nodded vigorously.

"You are aren't you? Otherwise the snake wouldn't be able to understand you." Stated Lily. She however, didn't care if her son was a Parselmouth, he was still a wonderful person. "But how are you a Parselmouth? I'm not," said Lily. "I know I'm not," said James, accusatorially. "You'll find out why in the next book," said Harry. "And just because I am a Parselmouth it doesn't mean anything. I'm still the same person that I have been," he added, staring at James. James looked guilty.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see — so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Haha," James laughed, "I bet he looked like a penguin!"

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor.

"Leave my son alone!" said Lily, wrapping her arms around Harry protectively.

What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened — one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished.

The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come… Thanksss, amigo." The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"I like this snake; it's very polite," said Lily.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed,

"I bet they over exaggerate what happened," Remus said angrily.

but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death.

"Yep, they did," Remus said.

But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?" Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go — cupboard — stay — no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.

"Way to go Harry!" yelled Sirius, "Don't let the Muggles starve you!"

He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died.

Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead.

"Green light?" Sirius said, surprised. "Harry, you didn't survive the killing curse did you? Avada Kedavra?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," he said with a smirk.

This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all.

Lily started crying at this.

His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.

"You mean you hadn't even seen photo's before now?" Lily asked.

"Oh yeah," answered Harry, "I've seen some, but not at the Dursleys." Lily smiled in relief.

When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened;

"Why haven't Sirius or Remus come and got you yet?" asked James. "I'm not sure, but Sirius was other wise occupied, tied up what ever." "Well what about Peter?" "I would tell you, but that would give away a lot," said Harry.

the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too.

A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look. At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

"That's the end, who wants to read next?" "I will," said Sirius.