A year in the life of Harry Potter

Chapter 4: July, 31

"Harry Birthday!" Dudley yelled, jumping upon Harry's bed. "Get it? Get it? Harry Birthday! Not Happy Birthday! Get it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry grunted, trying to sit up. But the weight of his cousin kept him down. "Dudley - get off!"

"Sorry." Dudley got off Harry's bed, looking upset.

"It's OK," Harry sighed. He knew how emotional and sensitive his cousin was at times. "What's there for breakfast?" He got out of bed, grabbed a wafer and started going downstairs.

"Pancakes, bacon and fried eggs," Dudley grinned, rubbing his belly. He followed Harry.

"What are we gonna do today?"

"Dunno." His smile disappeared. "Well, it's your choice."

"For the first time," Harry smiled. This was the first time his relatives celebrated his birthday. He could choose where they'd spend the day.

"Happy Birthday," Petunia and Vernon said as the two boys entered the kitchen. "Your presents are over there," Harry's aunt said, pointing at the kitchen table, while turning a pancake around in the frying pan.

Harry eye's grew big. There had to be at least fifteen presents. That was more than he'd ever hoped to get, especially after the argument yesterday.

"Ah, the mail is there," Uncle Vernon said, looking up from his newspaper. "Dudley, would you get it?"

"Do I have to?" Dudley moaned, stuffing his mouth full with bacon.

"I get it," Harry said, walking out of the kitchen again. The mail was lying by the front door. He grabbed it and looked through it. A postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge. The water bill. Phone bill. Heat bill. A letter for a Mr. Harry Potter. - Wait, he was Mr. Harry Potter! Normally his letters were addressed to Harry Potter, but never before to Mr. Harry Potter. Not even the letters he got from Ted.

"Ya got a letter?" Vernon asked trying not to sound too interested, taking the mail from his nephew. "Again? These girls must really love you."

Harry grunted as he sat down. He put the letter into his pyjama trouser. It looked rather formal, and he thought it'd be better opening it when he was on his own.

"So, what do you want to do today, darling?" Petunia asked, putting a plate full of pancakes in front of him.

"Dunno." Harry shrugged. "What if we don't do anything?"

"But it's your birthday!" Vernon exclaimed, somehow relieved at not having to spent any more money on his god-for-saken nephew. "And you haven't even opened a single present you got!"

"I'll do it later," Harry said pushing his plate away, standing up. "I'm not very hungry."

Harry went back to his bedroom, got dressed and walked back downstairs.

"See ya later!" he yelled opening the front door. "I'll be back in about 'n hour!"

Once outside Harry made his way to the nearby park. It took about fifteen minutes to walk there. About that time in the morning there shouldn't be anyone there. As Harry reached it he saw no one. He walked over to the swings and sat down on one, pulling a wafer out of his trouser pocket. He ate it before he looked at the letter. Now it looked even more formal to him. The envelope was sealed shut with candle wax, like in the middle ages. The wax had a weird crest-like symbol on it. In the middle was a 'H', and around it was, like it seemed, a snake, a badger, a lion and a hawk. Munching another wafer Harry broke the seal and opened the envelope, not knowing what to expect to be in there.

It was a letter. What else should it have been? The envelope had been too thin to be some kind of a parcel.

Harry read through the letter once. Twice. Thrice. Then he fell down from the swings, his eyes still fixed on the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am happy to tell you that you are accepted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed in this letter is a list of the things you will need. The Hogwarts Express which will bring you and the other students to Hogwarts will departure on 1st September at 11:00 a.m sharp on Platform 9 3/4.

There was more written, but Harry was unable to read the rest. These three sentences didn't make any sense to him. School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Hogwarts Express? Was this some kind of joke? Or a misunderstanding? However, on the envelope it clearly said Mr. Harry Potter, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. It couldn't be a misunderstanding. Additionally, the letter didn't sound much like a joke.

Harry decided to go back home and ask his relatives. Maybe they knew something about it.

"Well..." Vernon stammered, putting his newspaper down, looking at the letter rather uncomfortably. Then his eyes slowly wandered to his wife.

"Well...." she said, looking at her husband. "There is something we have to tell you..."

"Don't say this isn't fake," Harry groaned.

"It - you - your parents - "

"What Vernon is trying to say is," Petunia said, continuing in a whisper," that you are a you-know-what."

"A you-know-what?" Harry questioned irritated.

"Yeah, a you-know-what," Vernon said, making an annoyed hand movement to try and make him understand.

"Oh - a you-know-what!" Harry said, finally understanding. "Wait - a you-know-what? I'm a magic?" All these years Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had used the phrase you-know-what when they'd talked about magic.

"Wizard," Petunia mouthed. "A wizard."

"Ah, wizard. - Wizard?!" Harry exclaimed.