A/N: Yay! Chapter 3 is up!

From the days of the 16th to the 22nd, I will be in Destin (yay!) but we won't bring our laptop, so I can't update, so I'll do as many chapters as I can until we leave for Destin. Also, who is going to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, on the day it comes out? I am, but I'm not seeing the midnight one, my dad won't let me. :(

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter, or anything you may recognize in this story.

Chapter 3: The Vanishing Glass

"Who will read next?" Molly asked.

"I will," Arthur said, grabbing the book. "Chapter 2: The Vanishing Glass."

"Harry, did you do accidentwal magic and get in twobel wit your auntie and uncwle?" George said. Harry just scowled.

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. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens

"Who would want to have a tidy garden?" Molly asked, looking out her living room garden, into her messy front lawn, some gnomes wobbling around.

"ME!" all the wives said.

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,

"Dad, I need you to get one of those pictures of Cousin Dudley in those bonnets, so I can put it in my room, and laugh myself to sleep," Albus said.

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.

"Dad, don't you ever take a picture of Mum doing that to me," Louis said to his father, Bill.

"Don't worry Louis, he won't, because Grandma Weasley took a bunch of pictures of him and Mum together like that," Charlie said.

The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet Harry Potter was still there, 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!"

"Wow, that's the best thing to hear first thing in the morning," Ron said. "The lovely sound of your aunt screeching at you."

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.

"Dad, that was real, not a dream," Lily said.

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."

Harry groaned.

"I'm guessing you don't like your cousin's birthday," Molly (the grandchild) said.

"No, never in my entire life," Harry said.

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

'Nothing, nothing…'

Dudley's birthday — how could he have forgotten?

"It's easy," Teddy said. "You just don't pay attention to him for the rest of the year, and then on his birthday act surprised that it's his birthday."

Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider

"Really, Uncle Harry, I hate spiders," Rose said, shuddering.

"Rose, I had no idea that you hated spiders," Arthur said. "You take after your father."

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.

All the girls, minus Hermione, Ginny, and Molly (the grandmother), yelled, "WHAT?"

"Yeah, it's true," Harry said, "they didn't want me to hog up space, so they put me in the cupboard."

"That's just cruel and unusual punishment," Roxanne said.

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.

"Is he a spoiled brat or what?" Audrey, Percy's wife, said.

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.

"Please tell me that wasn't you, Harry," Hermione said.

"Um. . ." was all that Harry said.

Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry,

"Yeah, it was me," Harry said, looking downcast.

but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age.

"Dad, I can't imagine you being small and skinny," James said.

"I have pictures," Harry said. "Do you want to see them?"

"No, not know," James said.

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, and bright green eyes.

"I look almost exactly like my dad, except for my eyes, I have my mother's eyes," Harry said. "You don't know how many times I've heard that."

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

"You liked your scar?" George said.

"Well, it was the only thing that I liked about my appearance then," Harry said.

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.

"WHAT!" Arthur yelled. "A car crash kill Lily and James Potter! Not possible!"

'And don't ask questions.'

Don't ask questions — that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

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

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.

"Just like your father," Ginny said.

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

"Good—one—Harry," Bill said, between laughs.

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.'

'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.

"Again, a spoiled kid," Audrey said.

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.

"Good thinking, Dad," Albus said.

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…'

"Oh my God, he can't even count!" Hugo said. "How did he even pass the first grade?"

"Trust me, Hugo, he barely passed," Harry said.

'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.

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.

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.'

"Is that Arabella Figg, the Squib?" Molly asked Harry.

"Yeah, do you know her?" Harry said.

"I knew her parents," Molly said. "Her parents and my parents were best friends, they always came over. Even though Arabella older than me, we would always hang out."

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.

'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.'

"That's so true," Harry said.

"Harry, isn't that the aunt that you blew up?" George asked.

"Yeah."

"Nice," was all George said.

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.

'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.

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

'I won't blow up the house,' said Harry,

"Yeah, right, Uncle Harry," Fred said. "I bet you would've done accidental magic and done exactly that."

but they weren't listening.

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

'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.

"Really, he would go that low," Victoire said. "Fake crying?" she said, now with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Don't you dare try that with me, young lady," Fleur said.

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

'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.

"What the hell is wrong with these kids?" Ginny said, shocked.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," Molly said. "Don't you dare curse under my roof."

"Ron cursed this morning," Ginny said, covering up.

"I'll deal with you later," Molly said to Ron. Ron shrunk down.

Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

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…'

"Yeahhhhh," George said. "I bet you did do something, Harry."

"Maybe," Harry said.

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

"Nice, Harry," George said.

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).

"Ick," Angelina said, disgusted. "This woman has absolutely no sense of fashion sense."

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. 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.

"Harry, did you Apparate?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know," Harry said.

"Well, that's very rare," Arthur said.

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.

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.

"I think he likes to complain about Harry," Roxanne said.

"No, we couldn't tell," Fred said, sarcastically.

'… 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.

"Dad, can we watch cartoons?" Fred and Roxanne asked at the same time.

George was about to say, "Sure," when Molly (the grandmother) said, "Ooohh no, you and your brother were already a handful, we don't want those twins to be worse than you."

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

"Nice, Harry," Charlie said. "It probably did."

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. After lunch they went to the reptile house. 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 —

"I wish it would've," Molly said. "This family is starting to get on my nerves." All of the Weasley children moved away from them, knowing what happens when someone gets on her nerves. For example, Bellatrix Lestrange.

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.

"Now I'm feeling bad for the snake," Lucy said, "and I hate snakes."

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.

"WHAT?" everyone, but Harry yelled.

"Yeah, it winked," Harry said. "It'll say why soon."

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.

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.'

The snake nodded vigorously.

'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?

"Great, I'm really feeling bad for the snake," Lucy said, continuing.

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.

"That must have been funny," Teddy said.

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

"Oh, so that's the accidental magic," Domonique said. "I bet your uncle almost killed you."

"He would've if he could've," Harry said.

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.'

"Oh my gosh, did you speak to snakes before, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No, I didn't know that I could speak Parseltongue then, Hermione," Harry said.

"YOU CAN SPEAK PARSELTONGUE?" all the kids yelled.

"Uh, yeah," Harry, said, leaning slightly back.

"And you didn't even tell us?" Harry's children yelled.

"Sorry?" he said, not knowing what to say.

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

'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, 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.

"We can only wish," Bill 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.

"But you'd starve!" Ginny yelled.

"I was used to it," Harry said.

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.

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.

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.

"What was the green light?" Lily asked.

"The Killing Curse," Harry said.

"That was the one that gave you the scar?" Lily asked, pointing to her father's scar.

"No," Fred said, sarcastically. "It was the Scar Curse. You know, the spell that goes, Scarius Lightningus." Lily just rolled her eyes, similar to her mother's.

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.

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

"They should have been more careful, even Harry was starting to notice," Hermione said.

"Hermione, stop worrying, he was fine," Ron said.

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 of the chapter," Arthur said. "Bill, you can read next," he said, handing the book to his eldest son.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hopefully Chapter 4 will be up before July 15th.

Also, reviews are recommended.

You can tell me your favorite part, your ideas, or just your comments.

Thanks!