Chapter 1: Chaos at the Circus

Harry Potter sat in the back of his uncle's car and wondered what an outing would be like. Harry was eleven years old. But in all that time, he had only ever been in three places; his aunt and uncle's house, the local primary school and the house of Mrs. Figg, their next-door neighbor, who watched Harry whenever, his aunt, uncle and cousin were going out.

A sharp poke in the side brought Harry out of his thoughts. He glanced to his right. His cousin, Dudley Dursley, was pointedly looking out of the rear window on his side but there was a grin on his face. Another poke from the opposite direction made Harry look to his left. Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend was also looking out of the window on his side, an equally stupid grin on his face. Harry sighed. Over the years, Dudley had found numerous ways to torment him, from using him as a punching bag to leaving dung between Harry's sheets. Dudley's latest attempt involved making Harry believe in ghosts. But as Dudley wasn't particularly bright, his attempts had only been amusing. Until now. Wincing in pain at the force of the third poke, this time in his back, Harry leaned back into the car seat and pressed his arms to his sides, in the hopes that this would make them desist.

Harry surveyed his cousin out of the corner of his eye. Dudley was only two months older than Harry. But being of the same age and growing up in the same household was where the similarities ended. Dudley was tall and had the poundage of a baby whale. He had watery blue eyes and blonde hair which had been combed neatly. He wore braces on his teeth. There was always an impish grin on his face. Dudley's clothes and shoes were expensive and not just because it was his birthday. A gold-plated wristwatch with a gleaming dial hung from his left wrist. That watch had been one of Dudley's thirty-nine birthday presents. He'd also gotten a second television, the latest model computer, several new video games, a VCR, a tortoise for a pet, a racing bike (which he likely wouldn't use since he hated exercise), a new wallet stuffed full of five pound of notes and many other things. Dudley Dursley looked like what he was; a happy, fat, pampered, spoilt brat who always got what he wanted, sometimes even before he had opened his mouth and asked for it.

Harry on the other hand was so small and scrawny that he'd been told he looked like an under-fed dog. He had jet black hair that grew thickly and messily and never lay flat on his head. His eyes were bright green. His teeth were straight but he wore spectacles, cellotaped around the middle where they'd been broken more than once by a punch from Dudley. Harry had a lightning bolt scar on his forehead which he was always careful to hide with his hair because Aunt Petunia didn't like seeing it. Harry's clothes for the day (his best set since it was his first and probably his only outing) were a pair of jeans purchased specifically for him at the second-hand store instead of the usual over-sized hand-me-downs from Dudley and a t-shirt stained with paint from his weekend morning chore of painting the garden benches. When Harry got home that day, he could look forward to trying to figure out a way to get the stain out. Harry had never received a single present from the Dursleys or any pocket money to buy himself things. Harry looked like what the Dursleys thought him to be; an orphan boy who was lucky that he had not wound up in the orphanage or on the streets.

For ten long, miserable years, ever since the death of his parents in a car-crash, Harry had lived with his aunt and uncle. When he'd been younger, he'd hoped and hoped to be rescued by some unknown relative. Then, he'd hoped to find friends at school. But Dudley always bullied off anyone that Harry liked or that liked Harry. Eventually, he'd grown out of hoping. There was no one for him except his aunt Petunia who was his mother's sister and aunt Petunia's husband, uncle Vernon.

In the driver's seat, uncle Vernon was complaining about the traffic. Uncle Vernon loved to complain. He was avoiding his favorite subject (Harry) today because of the presence of Piers Polkiss. The Dursleys never treated Harry very badly in front of the neighbors or other outsiders and Harry had been threatened with beatings and starvation if he ever complained to strangers about his life at No. 4.

Harry perked up when Uncle Vernon announced that they were almost there. He was going to a circus! He had heard some classmates and school mention that this circus was particularly good. He couldn't wait to see for himself. It was going to be the best day of his life!

Minutes later, Uncle Vernon rolled to a stop in a large parking lot, already filled with cars. Dudley and Piers got out at once, stretching their arms and legs but Uncle Vernon turned right around in his seat, grabbed Harry by the front of his t-shirt, put his face close to Harry's and said, "I'm warning you now, boy. Any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be locked up in your cupboard until Christmas!"

Christmas was more than seven months away. Uncle Vernon was probably exaggerating. Probably. "I never do anything, Uncle Vernon" Harry told him, but it was useless. His aunt and uncle never believed him about any of his 'accidents'. And some of those accidents had been very strange indeed. One time, when Harry was just three, Dudley had taunted Harry by flaunting all of his new toys. Harry had felt angry and jealous. Suddenly, all of those toys had flown out of Dudley's hands and into Harry's. Dudley had gone screaming to his parents, and Harry had received his first ever dose of what Uncle Vernon called 'discipline.' Harry had been locked up in the cupboard under the stairs for a whole day. Around the same time, Harry had been given that cupboard for a room while Dudley used the three upstairs rooms as a bedroom, a game room and a spare room for all the things that he didn't want to keep in the former two.

Two years later, when Harry had been five, Dudley and one of his friends, Malcolm, had set Malcolm's dog, Jimmy on Harry. Harry had run for his life until he'd run into a dead end with no way out. Desperately, he'd closed his eyes and prayed for help. When he'd opened them again, Jimmy had been lying on the ground, perfectly still. Malcolm had screamed that Harry had killed his dog. But Jimmy had gotten up and been perfectly fine after a few minutes. Malcolm's parents had waved away the tale that Harry had done something to the dog but Uncle Vernon had given Harry three days in his cupboard as a punishment, only letting him out twice a day to eat and use the bathroom.

There had been other things too. A revolting sweater of Dudley's that Harry hadn't wanted to wear had shrunk until it would fit him no more. A favorite videogame of Dudley's had changed into a lump of goo in his hands when Dudley had refused to let Harry try it out. Harry's hair, which had been badly cut by Aunt Petunia had regrown overnight. And only six months ago, he'd found himself on the school roof while running away from Dudley's gang and been sent home with a note that he was climbing school buildings. He'd gotten a fortnight for that, because it had drawn the attention of so many people.

But today, he would not let anything go wrong. Today was the first time he'd gotten a chance to have fun and he wouldn't ruin it. Harry told this to himself repeatedly as they stood in a queue to buy tickets. And he had to avoid Dudley as much as possible because Dudley would ruin the day for him if he could.

When they crossed the welcome arch and stepped into a circular ring of tents, his concerns and plans faded from his thoughts. The sheer marvelousness of the circus filled it instead. The circus was filled with the strange and the extraordinary and Harry loved it. To one side, a knife-thrower was demonstrating his craft. To another side, a clown, his face painted white and red and black, was doing a comedic routine while an eager audience laughed and applauded. To the far end were a cluster of rides and game stalls. Ten feet away, nearest to the entrance, a group of hawkers selling food. Dudley made a beeline for them, followed by his parents and Piers. Harry trailed along behind them.

His aunt and uncle bought Dudley and Piers hot dogs and cotton candy and chocolate ice-cream bars. Harry got a Lemon Ice-Pop, the cheapest thing on all the menus. Licking it, Harry followed the rest to the game stalls where Dudley tried and failed to throw hoops around targets and guess the number of toffees in the bowl. It was amusing to watch him buy ticket after ticket and fail repeatedly. Dudley saw Harry trying to hide a grin and challenged Harry to throw the hoops. Harry put his first hoop around a little alarm clock and his third hoop around a yo-yo. Dudley took both from Harry of course.

They moved onto the rides. Harry stared longingly at the Ferris Wheel which looked like it would be a thrilling experience. He would have loved to reach the top and see what the ground was like from a bird's eye view. But he knew Uncle Vernon wouldn't pay for him to go on it. Dudley and Piers bought tickets for themselves. Feeling envious, and half-hoping that both boys would throw up or get dizzy from the height, Harry turned away from the sight and walked up to the snake-man.

The python curled around the snake-man's shoulders brought its head next to Harry and then began curling itself around Harry's neck. The snake-man seemed surprised but not as much as Harry was a moment later when the snake said "Hello" to him.

Harry blinked. Had the snake just talked to him? It seemed like it. Cautiously, he said "Hello" back to it. And then, feeling more confident, he added, "You look like a magnificent creature."

The python was pleased by the compliment. It bobbed its head. "Thank you." Then he pointed towards the snake-man. "I hate him. If he didn't feed me and care for me…"

Harry could relate to the snake. Harry might have wished for horrid things to happen to the Dursleys but they did do the bare minimum for him. "I suppose it's not nice that he stuffs you in a basket when the show's over" said Harry sympathetically. He knew what it was like to be locked up.

"Excuse me" said the snake man. "Excuse me, but what are you doing, hissing at the snake like that?"

"I'm talking to him" Harry replied, before realizing how ludicrous that sounded. He reddened as the snake-man laughed. "Move along, there boy. The next customer's here and he might actually pay." The snake-man took the snake back.

Reluctantly, Harry walked on with a muttered "bye" to the snake.

After that, he stuck to his aunt and uncle, standing with them and watching as Dudley and Piers enjoyed themselves thoroughly. They bought hamburgers at a stall for lunch. Aunt Petunia passed a home-made sandwich to Harry while telling Piers that Harry was allergic to outside food.

They learnt that in the afternoon, there was to be a show by trapeze artists. A large blue tent was being put up for it. Dudley and Piers were eager to see it, already betting on whether any of the artists would fall and how badly they'd be injured if they did.

"You" called Dudley to Harry. "Piers and I are going to get something to eat while watching the show. Go in and save us good seats in the front row."

Harry wanted to retort that a single seat wouldn't fit Dudley and that he'd need at least three chairs to himself, but he refrained. He entered the blue tent. It was empty save for a man with a clipboard. Harry picked five chairs in the front row but the man told him that seat-saving wasn't allowed. It was first come, first serve only. Grinning, Harry took the seat at the very middle of the front row. Others came in and gradually the tent filled up. Just before the show was about to begin, Dudley struggled into the tent, the tent flap only barely big enough for him to step through. He had four sticks of cotton candy, two in each hand. At the sight of Harry in the front row, with no empty seats to either side of him or anywhere in the tent, his blue eyes narrowed. He waddled forward quickly, his equivalent of an angry run. Harry prepared to dodge a punch from Dudley. But Dudley surprised him. As soon as he reached Harry, he smashed all four sticks of cotton candy into Harry's face. The candy smeared his face and spectacles, blinding him. Dudley then grabbed Harry by the front of the shirt and pulled him to his feet. Maybe to take Harry's chair for himself or maybe to drag Harry out of the tent. Harry never found out.

The blood pounded inside of Harry and a rage like he had never felt filled him. It was like he was feeling all the bottled-up emotions from years of Dudley's abuse, all in a single instant. A giant whoosh and then tearing, creaking, snapping and crunching sounds filled Harry's ears. Screams filled the air. Someone yelled something about terrorists and bombs. Hastily, Harry grabbed the end of his t-shirt and wiped his glasses with it. When the glasses were clean enough to see through them, a scene of utter chaos greeted Harry.

The tent had been blown away and torn to bits. All of the trapeze bars and equipment of the artists and the wooden poles of the tent had been smashed to bits. Nearly every one of the plastic chairs meant for the audience had broken legs or backs. People had been tossed about everywhere. Most were sitting dazedly on the ground or else climbing to their feet. Harry followed suit and rose to his feet.

"What happened?" asked Harry at the same time that Dudley screeched, "He did it! Harry did it! Mum, Dad, Harry did it! I know it was him. He always does all the bad stuff."

Aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon had rushed up to Dudley. After carefully checking to see that Dudley hadn't been hurt, Uncle Vernon surveyed the scene. Harry noted a man bleeding from the arm, a bloodied and jagged end of a plastic armrest lying on the ground next to him. Another woman was rubbing her head on which there was a lump. But other than that, everyone seemed alright.

"I didn't do—" began Harry but Uncle Vernon cut him off with a furious glare. He grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him off to the car. Piers jabbered away about freak accidents until they dropped him off at his house. After that there was silence in the car until they reached No. 4, Privet Drive. Once they were inside the house, with the doors bolted shut, Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry. "That's it, boy. I've put up with these shenanigans for years but you've gone over the top this time! Go to your cupboard! You'll be in there a good long while, this time. Petunia, feed him once a day and let him out to use the bathroom. The rest of the time, he stays locked up." He turned back to Harry. "I should be handing you over to the police for blowing up half the circus, boy!" he roared, spittle flying into Harry's face. "Be grateful, I'm not doing anything worse than this."

Harry wanted to scream that his whole life with the Dursley's had been one long jail sentence but he reined in his temper and went to the cupboard under the stairs.Maybe a ghost really is after me, he thought to himself. It would explain all the strangeness in his life. The lock clicked as Aunt Petunia locked the door. Harry laid down on his bed, thoroughly miserable once again.