#piers polkiss

[oldphone-whodis]

So I'm listening to Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

And I get to chapter 2. When they go to the zoo for Dudley's birthday. And Harry talks to the snake.

Does Harry actually speak Parseltongue in this instance? Or does he just understand the snake? But Harry speaks to the Snake and the Snake can understand him, so he has to be speaking Parseltongue here, right?

But here's the thing!

“ ...Piers [calmed] down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it. Weren't you, Harry?" ”

Piers Polkiss says Harry was talking to the Snake. Talking, not hissing.

And I'm sure logically it could be explained as Piers being a kid and just going "hissing at a snake = talking" or just trying to get Harry in trouble. Or just the author not having set up that plot point quite yet. Or maybe Piers is just a clever kid.

But I don't care and now I want Piers to be a parselmouth.

[hpshipuary]

💖 HP Shipuary: Day 28 💖

Ships

Molly Weasley / Remus Lupin

Dudley Dursley / Piers Polkiss

Hermione Granger / Lily Evans Potter

BYO Ship

Viktor Krum / ?

Rose Weasley / ?

Rules • FAQs • Prompts • AO3 Collection

[seriousbrat]

vincent crabbe and gregory goyle

There are few HP characters I think are badly written, but while rereading I often feel like we could have done without Crabbe and Goyle. Or at least without one of them. They basically have no speaking lines and just "flex their muscles" a lot (I hate this lol it's so silly to me.)

To be fair, Crabbe does get more interesting in HBP/DH, when he emerges from Draco's shadow and becomes a character in his own right. And in a way Harry himself points this out in the narration-- he's surprised at the softness of Crabbe's voice because... he's basically never heard his voice in 7 years. Like alright I'll accept Crabbe's presence in the books because I do actually like the fact that he starts rebelling against Malfoy. The brief final exchange with Crabbe alone gives him a lot more depth, and it's hinted at in HBP with Crabbe starting to question Malfoy's orders. Like I think this is quite good:

All of this makes Crabbe slightly more interesting to me, but I'm pretty sure Goyle's only given character trait over 7 books is being stupid lmao. Arguably some of this lack of depth is just because Harry doesn't pay attention to them, but also it's remarkable how much more interesting Theodore Nott, who doesn't appear until OotP, seems just because of his ability to see Thestrals (also his father is more interesting than Crabbe Sr and Goyle Sr in the graveyard.) And it's weird because jkr is typically quite good at infusing very minor characters with interest and depth, even if they only have one line in the entire series (Nott's father being a good example.)

Goyle I think literally just doesn't add anything as a character. I'm a little torn about Crabbe because in a way I do think it's interesting for him to basically be a non-entity and then take Harry (and us) by surprise during their first conversation in 7 years, right before his death. So I think Crabbe would be a better character overall without Goyle dragging him down by association lol.

But anyway despite Crabbe's last hurrah, most of the time both characters are just kind of extensions of Draco, it's even stated that they "seemed to exist to do Malfoy's bidding." Pansy and even the much more minor Zabini and Nott all feel so much more dynamic. Like I said, characters who only appear for a single line are given more depth than Crabbe and Goyle who are "on screen" all the time but seem to share a non-personality, because until HBP there's almost no distinction between the two (apart from Goyle being a bit stupider.)

Honestly it seems like until HBP they're mostly there to make Malfoy more of a threat to the trio, since otherwise Ron and Harry could just pummel Draco when he got mouthy and win. I think if Malfoy's gang had just been one of them (Crabbe) and then maybe Nott as more of a sycophant type of role rather than just a thug, this would have worked much better.

I mentioned the Crabbe Sr and Goyle Sr, who are also remarkably uninteresting/blank compared to other minor Death Eaters like Nott Sr or Avery. This makes me never want to include them as Death Eaters in anything I write haha. They just "bow clumsily and mutter dully" so it feels like all we can conclude is that Crabbe Sr and Goyle Sr are just.. exactly the same as their sons but as adults, which is doubly boring because them being copies of their sons is boring but also their sons are boring to begin with. Neither family is part of the Sacred Twenty-eight, and the only mildly interesting inference I can draw here is that they were low-ranking Death Eaters, untalented, basic lackeys who deliberately encouraged their sons to suck up to Lucius Malfoy's son, which is why Vincent and Gregory dutifully followed Draco's orders for so long.

I can imagine that after Lord Voldemort's downfall, Lucius was probably the highest-ranking Death Eater to escape Azkaban, and he might have been seen as a sort of rallying point by those who believed Voldemort was gone. Natural followers like Crabbe and Goyle would have gravitated to Lucius as the new alpha lol, and I think it does add a little bit of interest if the reason why Vincent and Gregory allowed themselves to be bossed around and talked down to by Draco for so long is because they were specifically instructed or encouraged to do so as children. This also explains why Crabbe starts to rebel when Lucius loses favour after OotP.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

The Red Pencil

A not-quite-microfic written for @thethreebroomsticksficfest A Very Harry Birthday mini event! Happy birthday Harry!

Harry steps into his Year 5 classroom, tucking his too-large, dingy white shirt into his equally oversized grey trousers. His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose and he pushes them back, looking up at the colorful calendar next to the blackboard. 

“Move!” Harry is knocked to the floor by Piers Polkiss, Dudley’s rat-faced friend. Harry deflates; he expected a Dudley-free classroom, as Aunt Petunia demanded her Ickle Diddykins be placed with Mrs Croft, the sought-after Cedar class teacher. Harry is in the Holly class with Miss Turner, a new teacher, who doesn’t notice one of her pupils is rubbing his scraped elbow. 

Harry stands, only to be pushed against the wall by another one of Dudley’s friends, Gordon, who laughs and finds a seat next to Piers. 

“Is everything all right?” asks a wispy voice. Miss Turner fiddles with her big, beaded necklace and blinks down at Harry. He peers around her, where Piers and Gordon are eyeing him threateningly. 

He won’t say a word.

“Yes, Miss Turner,” Harry replies dully. “I slipped when I was looking at the . . .”

“Calendar?”

Harry nods and turns to face the grid, noticing his name printed in one of the squares.

“Why is my name here?” he asks, pointing to the square. His Year 4 teacher always put his name on the blackboard if he misbehaved; Aunt Petunia would lock him in the cupboard all night.

Miss Turner frowns. “Your birthday isn’t on the 31st?”

Harry glances at the calendar once more. He finds Piers’s name in the square reserved for 28 July. An American film about dinosaurs was released that day; Dudley and Piers went to the cinema for it. They returned to taunt Harry, saying that an animated orphan was far better than a real one.

Swallowing the memory, he counts the squares. If Miss Turner’s calendar is correct, his ninth birthday was only three days later. 

“I didn’t know I had a birthday.” 

“Everyone has a birthday,” Miss Turner says, confused. “Did you forget?”

Other boys and girls are watching them, falling silent. Harry feels his cheeks grow hot. He knew he had to have a birthday, but Aunt Petunia told him she didn’t know when it was, which is why he couldn’t have a birthday party or presents. 

“I forgot,” he lies, as Piers and Gordon snicker at each other. Miss Turner shrugs and nudges him toward an open seat near the front. 

The school bell rings only a few moments later, sparing Harry from further embarrassment. He keeps his gaze on the date shown in the grid, memorizing it so he won’t forget. 31 July 1980 is my birthday, he thinks repeatedly, wondering what that day was like for his parents. He knows they died when he was already over a year old.

Had his birthday been celebrated once, when they were alive? 

“Harry Potter!”

Harry blinks up at Miss Turner. She holds out a red pencil, topped with a star-shaped eraser, wrapped with a golden ribbon. It has a card attached to it, with “Happy Birthday!” printed in big, bold letters.

“Here you are,” Miss Turner says, handing him the pencil. “We’re celebrating everyone who had birthdays in July and August.” She moves onto the next student, Gemma Rollins, whose birthday was two weeks before the start of term. Harry holds the pencil gingerly, the only birthday gift he’s received (that he knows of). He chooses not to write with it. It’s special, just for him, something Dudley can’t take away. 

But Piers can take it away, and by lunch, it’s no longer in Harry’s possession. By the end of the day, Gordon snaps it in half and tears the star-shaped eraser in two. The card is in shreds, carried off by the wind. 

Harry knows better than to complain. Now that he knows his birthday, he can tell Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He won’t get much for his birthday, if Christmas is anything to go by, but something is better than nothing.

It’s much later that day, after Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have heard about Dudley’s marvelous first day of school, that Harry brings up his discovery. He’s done washing the dishes and finds Aunt Petunia in the garden, trimming the hydrangeas. 

“Aunt Petunia?”

“Have you broken something?” she says, snipping a stem with a scowl. 

“I found out when my birthday is.” He pushes his glasses up his nose, wishing they fit his face better. “The 31st of July. My teacher, Miss Turner, has a calendar with our birthdays on it.”

Aunt Petunia flinches. “It must be correct.”

“If I know my birthday now, can I get pre—”

“Only good, well-behaved boys get presents,” she snaps, twisting the head of a hydrangea clean off its stem. “Father Christmas doesn’t bring presents to naughty children. Why would naughty boys and girls get presents for their birthdays?” 

Harry almost tells her he did get a birthday gift, a pencil, but Piers took it away. “Yes, Aunt Petunia,” he says miserably.

“Go to your cupboard. You’re going to get filthy if you stay out here.” 

He shuffles away, avoiding Dudley’s chocolatey smirk and Uncle Vernon’s glare, and throws himself on the thin mattress in the cupboard. He feels something jabbing his side and hopes it’s not a mouse. Turning over, Harry sees the golden ribbon. The red pencil is on his bed, whole and untouched, with its star-shaped eraser and attached card.

With a grin, Harry stores the gift in an empty shoebox at the foot of his bed. He falls asleep, dreaming of flying, a gentle, tinkling laugh, and warm, hazel eyes crinkled with joy. 

...

*The Land Before Time (1988) really was released on 28 July 1989 in the UK.

[whinlatter]

i love beasts with my whole soul, it's so heartfelt and intelligently written. love reading the author's notes afterwards, love everything about it. do you have any headcanons about harry and the dursleys maybe years later, if they've reconnected or if harry forgave them?

ok firstly you're a star and it's very important that you know that. thank you so so much for reading and enjoying my fic and my inane author's notes you absolute legend

i fear my headcanons on the dursleys are all a bit boilerplate and boring! i'm a big fan of the widely accepted idea of harry and dudley having a sort of polite but sort of nice rapprochement of sorts as adults that dudley initiates and harry sort of goes along with, a bit baffled, for dudley's sake. i quite like the reunion happening at the burrow partly because i like the idea of dudley a) sat in the weasleys' garden feeling clever for the first time in his life explaining to arthur the concept of a sit-on lawnmower and b) meeting ginny and having to wrap his head around the concept of his flop cousin having pulled an absolute baddie.

while i don't think dudley would ever cut himself off or distance himself from his parents (i don't think he has the insight or depth to grasp why he might need to), i like the idea of dudley absorbing enough of dedalus diggle's relentless harry stan content for a year to be able to grasp that harry was actually good vibes and that what his parents did to his cousin during their childhoods was, on some level, wrong. (dedalus and dudley - what a double act. that unlikely duo stayed in touch for the rest of their lives, meeting up every few months at the pizza express in woking for a catch-up. dudley 100% stuck him on the family table at his wedding and gave a vernon a stroke. dudley also fancied hestia that year they were in hiding but unlike dedalus she ran a mile from the dursleys as soon as the war was done and she didn't have to see those tory clowns ever again. harry jokingly-not-jokingly tried to give her his order of merlin for her service.)

i don't think harry ever forgives or has any contact with vernon and petunia again. he does however enjoy the news, relayed through dudley, that grunnings went bust due to catastrophic fiscal mismanagement during the 2008 financial crisis, costing vernon his pension, and that petunia's rose garden was ripped to shreds by piers polkiss' XL bully.

[saintsenara]

*rolls up in sexy nurse costume* i have those crack ships you ordered, doctor! extra strength unhinged.

firenze/narcissa malfoy

augusta longbottom/piers polkiss

colin creevey/the bloody baron

oh, you thought you ate with these, anon, but they're hardly unhinged at all.

firenze/narcissa malfoy

i wonder what returning to the forest would be like for narcissa in the years after the end of the war? it's the site of probably the most pivotal decision she will ever have made in her life - one which saves her son, but kills her sister; one which sees her family lose its status, humiliated by the ministry clearing house after the battle and dependent on the goodwill of harry potter to stay out of prison, but which still enables them to survive as a trio.

i seem to write, whenever i'm asked about narcissa, that she's clearly someone whose life is dictated by conformity to conventions - especially ones relating both to her gender and to her social class. with the end of the war, the mask behind which she has lived for decades is no longer available to her, and a woman who is clearly quite fragmentary is going to find herself trying to piece back together a person who hasn't been seen in public since narcissa realised she'd have to make up for bellatrix and andromeda's defiance by being a porcelain-perfect wife and mother.

and returning to the forest is going to stir up the same feelings in firenze. he was driven out for also making a knife-edge decision of huge consequence - agreeing to abandon the usual centaur policy of indifference to human affairs and working for dumbledore as the war ramps up - and which also results in a victory which is tenuous: he's absolutely right to recognise that there's a time for being hands-off and the government in being in the control of a genocidal terrorist kingpin isn't one of them; but, in being right, he ends up an outcast from his community, living as a second-class citizen in a society in which even the good guys think of non-humans as less worthy than themselves.

so you've got your forest-based meet-cute. you've got your central couple striving to come to terms with who they really are. you've got two people whose lives have been dictated by conformity to a set of social standards who no longer have the safety of those standards available to them. you've got a woman whose whole family are named after stars and a man [who is also a horse] who knows how to read the skies.

tell me you don't ship it.

augusta longbottom/piers polkiss

i've seen harold and maude.

colin creevey/the bloody baron

if you were adjusting to life as a ghost, having been brutally killed in a battle you shouldn't even have been fighting in, who would you want to show you around as you learn the ropes?

a forever-fourteen-year-old girl who literally doesn't stop whining

the world's most pompous partially-beheaded man [also fond of whining]

a mysterious and rude young woman who won't stop going on about how hot the man whose forces killed you was when he was sixteen

a drunken monk who represents the least interesting house and who's probably really into "looking on the bright side" and "manifesting", even though he's dead

or

5. an intriguingly blood-stained [always sexy!] anglo-norman nobleman who would help you tackle the big questions about regret and remorse and who could keep peeves away from you.

we all know what decision we'd make.

[spindrifters]

trick or treat! 🧡

A TREAT for you!

A snippet from the 'Mary and Remus steal Harry' AU that may yet see the light of day...

Five years and nine months later, Harry walks into her classroom.

She knows to expect him by then. Or to expect a Harry Potter, in any case, along with the rest of her new batch of Year Threes. Mary had stared at the roster for a solid ten minutes when she’d first received it the week before, blood pounding in her ears, Mrs. Kemp from the next classroom over yammering on about school gossip she should know, being new and all, and have you heard the latest rumors about cracks in Charles and Diana’s marriage?

It was a coincidence. It had to be. Harry Potter was a common enough name, and what would he be doing at a muggle primary school in Surrey, anyway?

It’s not a coincidence.

The first day of class, Mary turns from her chalk and crepe paper board to greet the new students, and there he is. A small brown face in a sea of white, bright green eyes peeking out from behind round sellotaped glasses, hands disappearing into the sleeves of a too-large rugby polo. Her breath catches in her chest, and for a moment she’s eleven years old again, meeting James Potter for the very first time.

But she never knew James at age seven, and even for a much younger child, Harry is small. The too-large clothes don’t help with the overall effect, and the other children take notice. A larger boy with blonde hair and a round face nearly bowls him over in his haste to sit next to his friends, elbowing Harry sharply in the ribs as he passes.

Mary reminds the boy—Dudley, the unfortunate child turns out to be called—about using his words instead of his hands, explains that he has an assigned seat, and pukes when she gets home that night.

Because here are the things—the things she clocks on that very first day:

One. Harry has no friends. The two children assigned to sit on either side of him complain vehemently about the arrangement, and he’s given a wide berth during free play. 

Mary doesn’t like to make snap judgments. She remembers her own time at primary, how isolating it was to be a witch, even if she didn’t know the word for it at the time. But even from a young age, Mary had a certain talent for turning her accidental magic into social capital. Little girls are much more witchy and weird than adults like to remember, after all. Little boys, she thinks, aren’t all that different.

But the problem is Dudley Dursley. Mary doesn’t like to make snap judgments, but it’s clear from the off that Dudley and his ring of boys are the instigators in Harry’s isolation. The other children fear them, and it doesn’t seem to matter how much effort she herself puts into encouraging them to be kind. Dudley Dursley and Piers Polkiss and Malcolm Guernsey have decided that Harry is a freak, with his too-big clothes and his brown skin and his propensity for odd things happening in his vicinity, and that was decided years ago.

Which leads into the other thing. Harry’s clothes are too big for him, which means that sleeves have a habit of falling down on the heartbreakingly rare occasion he raises his hand. So it’s difficult, really, to miss the bruises.

[elisedonut]

so im not sure if im allowed to share it so i wont

but someone made this like chart of ships that have at least one fic on Ao3 sorted by HP characters

so i proceeded to go up and down Percy's section because ofc

so here is the list of characters that have no fics shipping them with Percy that surprised me and I think needs to change

or in some cases i just think would be neat

-Nigel Wolpert ‎

-Amelia Bones ‎

-Dean Thomas ‎

-Florean Fortescue

-Godric Gryffindor

-Gregory Goyle

-Helga Hufflepuff ‎

-Xenophilius + Pandora Lovegood

-Madam Rosmerta

-Aurora Sinistra ‎

-Blaise Zabini's Mother ‎

-Colin Creevey's Father ‎

-Gellert Grindelwald

-James Potter(I know someone was once doing this one but i didn't realize it was a 0 fic ship)

-Michael Corner ‎

-Myrtle ‎

-Newt Scamander ‎(actually also Rolf and his/luna's twins)

-Lily Moon

-Piers Polkiss ‎

-Romilda Vane

-Rolanda Hooch ‎(T4T yuri??)

out of these the most likely one i can see myself doing is Nigel Wolpert ‎just because hes kinda Creevey brother number three just without the last name so i think it would be easy for me personally since I already think about Colin and Dennis alot

Dean I think just as a guess is like the most major player character out of the people who have never been shipped with Percy and i just think that's a crime also he's an artist that could be so cute

i have a few thoughts on some of the others but its late so my brains not working anymore but yes most of the others were like ___'s parent or people who are dead when the series starts but not in a fun way where I still think they could be neat like Pandora and James

like alot of the Marauders heavy characters that have popular ships were on there like Mary M, Evan R. those twos girls that are pretty much non existent but are still popular enough to be in the top 100 ships on ao3 overall? I can't remember there names right now

oh and a bunch of others that were just names in extra material Lily Moon gets an exception just because of her being a proto-Luna

[seriouslysam8]

What do you think Harry's reaction would be to running into Piers Polkiss, or someone else from Dudley's gang? Do you think they would even recognize Harry? Do you think they would still try to torment him? Maybe hit on Ginny?

I don’t think any of them would recognize Harry. I see him as really groaning into his own. Tall, handsome, and happy. I think being happy really changes the way he looks. A smile does wonders for him.

I don’t think they’d torment him because that bloke is tall now. He’s not a scrawny little kid anymore. He has some muscles. Not like muscular but he is toned.

They would probably wonder how Harry snagged Ginny.

[littlemochix17]

Chapter 4

Words: 2.6K

After moving in with the Dursleys they gave (Y/n) Dudley's room for toys even though he was displeased his mother persuaded him that he doesn't need the room and it would be nicer to have an eye on his toys all the time just in case 'someone' decides to steal them the room was quite simple it had a bunk bed, a wardrobe and a desk with a small table lamp nothing much but it's way more better than staying with her grandma and at least when she's there they're a bit nicer to Harry as they can't have her telling her grandma how bad they really are it's has been all most a week since she has gotten there her and Cedric's little meetings has been called off for a while because she didn't want to seem suspicious to the Dursleys but they kept in touch after she gave him her and the Dursleys address so she can communicate with the boy in the muggle way in fear they see the boy's owl always saying that it's her grandma is the one who's writing for her and she would always wait till they all fall a sleep so she can write him a letter and leave it on her window for Cedic's owl to give them to their owner as for (Y/n) and Harry they couldn't be happier as for them it felt like two friends having a long sleepover (Y/n) would let Harry sleep in on the top bunk of the bed sometimes they set on the same bed relaxing and listening to music on Harry's Walkman until they fall asleep and now that the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favourite sport: Harry Hunting of course (Y/n) would make them stop but she wasn't with him all the time because they weren't in the same class and Harry didn't want to depend on her all the time in fear they might target her too. 

This was why Harry took (Y/n) to spend as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came they would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High along with (Y/n) who just discovered that her grandma has gotten Freya to a boarding school for girls so she can be as far away from (Y/n) as she can, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry.

"Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry While (Y/n) glared at him.

"The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it, it might be sick." Then the girl took his hand and pulled him away from Dudley before he could do anything he said

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry and (Y/n) at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let the children watch television and gave them a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years but not wanting to be rude (Y/n) thanked her and the women gave her a small smile as she said that she is allowed to have more if she wants.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. (Y/n) congratulated Dudley on his 'success' of entering such a 'great' school missing the sarcasm in her voice the three members of the family were pleased with her words while Harry almost snorted knowing every word  that was said the girl didn't mean anything that came out of her mouth but it seemed that her words did boost the rude boy's ego asking the girl if she's proud to be his 'friend'

"Oh, very much" was her reply as she held herself from rolling her eyes.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. (Y/n) was upstairs taking a quick shower before she went down for breakfast. the smell seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. Harry went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia.

Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said. Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," He said

"I didn't realize it had to be so wet"

"Don't be stupid." snapped Aunt Petunia.

"I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harry seriously doubted this but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Footsteps were heard as (Y/n) finally came down for breakfast and she went to the kitchen as she entered she smelled the horrible smell but didn't comment not wanting to offend the woman who was dying her son's old clothes.

"Good morning Mrs Dursley do need any help in the kitchen?" She said smiling slightly making the women chuckle a bit which Harry thought sounded like a dying rabbit

"Oh how sweet thank you darling but I am already finished you can go sit now" As soon as she said that the girl didn't take too much time to sit beside Harry

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell of Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

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

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

"It's ok I will go with you Harry" (Y/n) said as she took his hand dodging the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Five things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, a letter from Cedric that (Y/n) took from Harry's hands, and two similar letters one for Harry and one for (Y/n). Harry picked it up and stared at it after giving (Y/n) hers and she quickly put both of her letters in her pocket wondering what was in the second one deciding not to open it right now she turned to her friend to see his expression as for the boy his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet 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

"Who do you think sent you that letter?" Questioned the girl looking over his shoulder

"I don't know but maybe it's the same as yours, you got one with the same handwriting," said the boy as he looked once more at the envelope

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw 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?" He chuckled at his own joke as both children went back to the kitchen, Harry was still staring at his letter. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down (Y/n) beside him, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope. 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 . . ."

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly.

"Dad, Harry's got something!" Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon Making the two friends turn to him (Y/n) with a worried look and Harry who looks angry.

"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise but then she turned and looked at their guest and mastered a small smile to the best of her abilities.

"(Y/n) darling your grandmother called this morning and said that you can come back home as you might see we are going to be busy for a while so please go upstairs and pack your bags, yes dear?" She uttered as she pushed the girl towards the stairs

"Wait what?" She said while looking at Harry she didn't want to leave him seeing the expressions of the parents she feared for his sake. what's so bad in the letter that made them kick her out? She hesitated to leave him but she had no choice as she was forced upstairs to pack. In a few minutes, she found herself out of the house

'Uh rude'

She sighed as she walked to her house. She knew her grandma and cousin weren't to come home until tomorrow night but it seemed like she couldn't go back to the Dursleys anytime soon so she pulled the spare key from under the doormat and went inside to unpack

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚(Y/n)'s POV˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

After unpacking I sit down on my bed as I pull the letters out of my pocket I decide to open Cedric's one first. I smile as I open the letter and read it

Dear, (Y/n) How are you? Did you go back to your grandmother's house yet? I miss our meetings under the tree. My father has been going to the muggle towns a lot so and as you know I go with him but it's kinda boring now that you're not there. Did you get your Hogwarts letter yet I just got mine yours is supposed to be sent at the same time. It's really a shame you don't want to go. I was looking forward to having you there and also so I could show you how to play Quidditch or maybe you can watch my matches? Anyway stay safe and write back to me when you have time alright? Love, Cedric

I chuckled after I finished reading his letter he always writes to me about his day and asks about mine it feels nice to have someone who understands you who doesn't see you as some sort of a monster don't get me wrong I have Harry but it's just not the same now that I know that I am a witch it's different as look for papers to write back to him my eyes landed on the other letter which sat abounded on my small bed. I frown my eyebrows no one expected Cedric to send me letters I don't have friends at school because they think I am wired sticking with Harry or the 'freak' of the school as they like to call him a bunch of idiots if you ask me plus that letter looks weird I remember Harry getting the same exact one and my curiosity got the better of me so I looked at it

Miss. (Y/n). (L/n)

The Small basement under the house

3 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

'That's oddly specific...' I thought as I opened the letter and started to read

That was the first paper in there while the other one had the things I am going to need for this year. Too bad I won't be going. I exhaled sadly and lay on my bed facing the ceiling I started to close my eyes

'I know now why Harry's Aunt and Uncle guess he's a wizard now'

I suddenly open my eyes at my own realization

'Wait... '

'OMG, HOW COULD I BE THIS STUPID!'

'He's not a muggle! Thank god!'

'That means both of us can go to Hogwarts' I thought as I jumped around ecstatically

'I have to tell Cedric!'

As she was about to write going to write to the said boy she heard the sound of something she couldn't make out what was it exactly she got afraid her grandmother and cousin won't come home until later. Slowly she walked up the basement stairs making it to the living room to see an old man looking at her baby pictures with her adoptive parents smiling softly as he noticed the girl hiding behind the wall

"Ah! Don't be afraid my dear It's nice to see you again (Y/n) (L/n) You have grown since the last time I saw you" Said the old man as his smile brightened a little

'What the absolute fu-'

[dhr-ao3]

Sharing Hermione

Sharing Hermione https://ift.tt/Kw3Y1pk by Luckyyyy Harry Potter's banged just about every witch at Hogwarts, and he's bored to death. But then he gets an idea about what it might be like to see Hermione taken by other men. And with the start of the summer vacation, who better to help him than uncle Vernon and his cousin Dudley? Words: 3874, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, Multi Characters: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley, Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley, Piers Polkiss, Draco Malfoy, Cormac McLaggen, Severus Snape Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley/Hermione Granger, Vernon Dursley/Hermione Granger, Dudley Dursley/Vernon Dursley/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Dudley Dursley/Vernon Dursley/Piers Polkiss, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Cormac McLaggen Additional Tags: Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Double Penetration, Threesome - F/M/M, Gangbang, Blow Jobs, Lingerie, Cock Slut, Cuckolding via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/BaiVGXQ December 03, 2023 at 02:12PM

[amndstuckinwonderland]

Emerge From Water - 01

Chapter 1:

Summary + Chapter list:

It might be vain, but Harry loved feeling ‘pretty’, or whatever the high of being neat, clean, and dressed up was called. From a young age, Harry tried to look well-maintained, granted it was hard to do with his ragged clothes and beat-up shoes. 

Sometimes, Harry would look at the well dressed, and felt horrendous envy, with that he burned with the ache to look beautiful. It was worse when he looked at his cousin, Dudley, who never appreciated the gorgeous clothing his Aunt Petunia bought him. But Harry was nothing if not resilient. 

So Harry stole, hid and kept. A pretty rock, a good book, a green ribbon, an array of notebooks and many more were left carefully under the loose floorboards of the cupboard under the stairs.  Looking to his side, Harry lightly brushed his hand over the wooden floor, sitting up as the wall creaked above from; most likely his Aunt’s footsteps walking down the stairs.

“Boy!” And with the shout Harry got out of the damned cupboard into the bathroom and began his chores. First, Harry washed himself and quickly took his shower before going to the kitchen to begin cooking breakfast.

Another ten minutes pass as his Aunt watches him like a hawk and loud stomping is heard as Harry’s Uncle Vernon and cousin appear imitating a wailing whale. Harry has never loved his relatives, he holds no fondness for the enactors of his torment. They liked calling him a freak, an unnatural being, but Harry knew it was far from the truth, the way the Dursleys denied the existence of Magic, a word that was forbidden to be spoken in the house, reeked of the fright of the unknown power.

Harry knew he was special, he could do things normal people could, what child teleports himself to the roof of a building, or by choice changes the length, shape, colour and texture of their hair? Hence, Harry had resigned himself to practising in hidden corners and rooms on how to work his magic, he had to be careful in case the fantasy novel he read was correct, according to the book he would be taken for experimentation.

Harry plated and placed the food onto the dinner table, today was Dudley’s eleventh birthday, and they - yes, Harry included - were going to the Zoo. Harry was rather excited, he loved animals, he had gone to the local library to read about them. Another thirty minutes pass before the Dursleys, Piers Polkiss, - Dudley’s friend - and Harry get into the car, but not before Uncle Vernon warns him, “No funny business.” And pushed him into the car. These were the times where Harry is glad his skin doesn’t scar or bruise easily, instead, after getting hit Harry feels tired and his injuries would heal. Due to this, Harry made sure to thank his magic regularly, he would have died ages ago.

Reaching the Zoo, Harry walked close but at a distance from the Dursleys and Polkiss. They passed multiple exhibits, and it turns out animals love Harry, it warms him each time one of the animals reach towards him. 

One hour in, they have seen half of the Zoo, by far, the bird exhibit was Harry’s favourite, they even had a baby swan! Harry adored birds like swans, he also liked the fawns he saw in the deer enclosure, but currently, he couldn’t wait to see if they had snakelets in the reptile house. 

The reptile house was surprisingly empty, but Harry preferred it. Harry had split up with the Dursleys but stayed near enough to see them; he ended up at a Boa Constrictor’s exhibit. The snake was beautiful and Harry very much wanted to talk to it. Yes, Harry could talk to snakes; it was something he found out while in school watching a snake documentary for science class. Thankfully, the Dursleys had cemented the idea of never telling anyone about the magical things he did, so no one found out about the ability and Harry strived to avoid watching documentaries with snakes being eaten and hunted.

Harry looked around to see if there wasn’t anyone watching him before lightly hissing, “Hello.” Suddenly, the snake looked up and raised himself up, “You speak?” The snake sounded surprised but Harry couldn’t blame it, most of the snakes Harry spoke to said they’ve never met a Speaker before.

“Yes, I do.” Harry replied, glancing over at the enclosure, “You must hate it here,” He commented, it was no surprise, as the snake sounded miserable when he entered into the reptile house. “Most people don’t get forced to stay in a place they don't wish to be in.” Harry understood, he truly did, if he could, Harry would’ve ran away from the Dursleys years ago.  Harry and the Boa Constrictor spoke for a bit before Harry was shoved to the side by Polkiss shouting for the Dursleys. “Dudley! Mrs Dursley! Mr Dursley! Look at what the snake is doing!?” And from there forward Harry’s day was ruined. 

Harry, in a fit of emotions, hadn’t controlled his anger and caused the glass to disappear and appear back. Leaving Dudley and Polkiss to almost fall into the enclosure rather than the Bao who slipped out and hissed a grateful, “Thanks.”  That was all Harry heard before his Aunt began shrieking about her son. 

As funny as it was, the consequences that followed weren’t. Harry had been locked up in the cupboard for the rest of the day, but was told to wake up early and make breakfast, so the cupboard wasn’t locked. 

It had been a few hours since coming back from the Zoo and Harry had been waiting for the Dursleys to finally fall asleep so he could sneak out of the cupboard. Slowly, Harry got out of the cupboard and silently walked over to the fridge.

A few years back Harry had made his magic turn everything quiet around him including the objects near him. It took a lot of practice to make sure none of the electric appliances burned out. Harry found out the electricity problem when he had tried to bother Dudley with his magic by turning the TV off every time Dudley turned it on, but after trying to do so, the TV short circuited. Since then, Harry has been extra careful while using his magic.

Grabbing a few fruits that Harry was sure the Dursleys wouldn’t miss, he slipped back into the cupboard to sleep. Harry felt himself slip into Morpheus’ grasp, yet it wasn’t like sleep, but a memory. The scene changed into a lovely nursery for children, bright yellows and reds with small winged balls. Harry had no idea where he was, but it felt so right.

Suddenly, a voice was heard outside the room, “Lilyflower, do you think he’ll wake up during the night? I don’t mind taking night duties today.” It was a masculine voice, it was nothing like Harry had ever heard  before. Vernon always made sure his voice came off as gruff, yet this man’s voice was soft and loving, it made Harry want to cry and hug the source and never let go. “Thanks, Jamie, but it’s alright, Bambi here doesn’t fall asleep until I’m near him.” 

The first thing Harry noticed about the voice was how lovely it sounded, Harry knew whoever Bambi was so utterly loved, Harry felt his chest burn with a fierce longing. Harry watched as the couple walked in, but he couldn’t make out their faces. Harry attentively watched the couple walk to the crib in the middle of the room, right next to where he stood.

Weirdly, the couple seemed not to be able to see Harry, but Harry couldn’t see the baby either. “Mummy loves my dear.” The woman, Lily, Harry assumed, said as she leaned down to kiss the supposed baby, “Daddy loves you too, my deer.” The man emphasised the deer as if it was an inside joke, and it did cause Lily to lovingly roll her eyes at him.

Harry watched the family speak lovingly to the child, and without warning the room changed into a place Harry could recognise in an instant. The room where Harry would see a green light that matched his eyes and then the world would go black.

“Lily, run! Now!” Harry heard as he saw Lily tumble into the room, Harry had tried getting out of the room but couldn’t, it was just expansions of white. Harry moved away from the crib as Lily placed the baby into it. She crouched down to look at her child, “Harry, Mama loves you.” Something in Harry broke, that was his Mother, his loving Mother, oh how he wanted to hold and tell he loved her too. “Dada loves you,” Lily breath hitched and she sobbed as a thud and cruel laughter came from somewhere in the house. “Oh, James, how could you do this to us Peter?” Lily brought her hand up to cup baby Harry’s face, “We love you so much, Harry, stay strong, Sirius and Remus love you, we love you.” 

Harry fell to the ground, bringing his legs up to his chest. Someone named Peter had done something, but before he could continue that train of thought, Lily prayed, but not the God Harry thought she would worship but rather to someone else. “Oh Gods above! Lady Leto, Hera, and Aphrodite, please, you have seen me go through hardship for my son, Lady Hera, you protected me, Lady Leto, I am a Mother under your blessing, and Lady Aphrodite, please, my love for my child rivals nothing in this world for me, please save him.”

Harry watched, dumbfounded by the prayer, yet touched deeply, but then the nursery door opened harshly and a beautiful pale figure dressed in black walked in, “Step aside.” He commanded, yet when Lily didn’t move, he menacingly repeated, “Step aside, silly girl.” The figure was at his final nerve, “Step aside, and you will live, if not I will kill you.”

Harry watched as the murderer brought up a stick, and uttered the words, “Avada Kedavra!” At his sobbing Mother as she pleaded for baby Harry’s life. Then, as if she had been frozen, Lily fell to the ground, she looked so devastated, yet she died full of love and bravery. Then turned his focus to the crib and repeated the words, yet Harry was left confused, why wasn’t he dead?

Just as the room flashed green Harry was jerked up awake in the cupboard. It took Harry a few minutes to understand what he had just witnessed. Knowing that he wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon, Harry took out a notebook, pen and a flashlight from the loose floorboard to write in and quickly turned on the light.

Harry had an array of notebooks hidden, they were one of his most prized items. He wrote everything into the books, and many of the notebooks contained spells that he made for himself. Quietly clicking the pen, he wrote down everything he could remember. First, Harry began with his parent’s names, a privilege he never got to savour properly as he didn’t know what they looked like. 

James and Lily Potter

Harry then spent the next ten minutes filling the pages of the notebook.

James and Lily Potter

Parents were magical too - Explains why Petunia said I was a freak like my Mother and Father.

Bambi - a Nickname for Harry?

Green Light Magic - What is it called? Is it reversible?

Who is the murder?

 Peter - Why did he betray my family?

Who is Sirius?

Who is Remus?

Gods above - Lady Leto, Hera and Aphrodite, who?

WHY DID I SURVIVE WHEN MUM DIDN’T?

Harry quickly wrote down the prayer his Mum spoke before using his magic to tell the time. ‘06;00’, the spell projected in a light shade of blue. According to routine, the Dursley wouldn’t be awake for the next two hours so Harry calmly removed everything from the loose floorboards to give his hands to do something, Harry hated being idle. 

Whilst Harry thought about the Gods his Mum prayed to, he also removed six notebooks excluding the one he wrote in. He then pulled out a green ribbon from a hand-carved wooden box with lilies and cauldrons that Harry had found labelled ‘Lily and Sev’. The box was where Harry also discovered his favourite book called, ‘Hans Christain Andersen’s FairyTales’. It was a signed version of the book that had writing on the sides of the pages with pictures drawn on crumpled papers sandwiched between the papers. Harry absolutely adored it, it was like having a friend reading with you.

Inside the box, Harry also stored pretty crystal rocks that the previous owner of house number eight gave him for helping her to pick up the groceries that she had dropped. The lady had given Harry an Amethyst and multiple Rose Quartz. Quickly, Harry turned to his notebook and scrawled another jot dot of;

Why do Crystals feel funny?

Besides the crystals, the box contained something special that he made sure to hide from everybody. It was also why Harry made sure to never cry in front of anyone. What Harry was referring to was the abnormally large quantity of pearls he owned. Normally, to get a pearl it was quite expensive, but these pearls were made from Harry’s tears. Every time Harry cried, his tears would turn into pearls in different colours and shapes, but he had no idea as to why?

That was another thing Harry wrote down into the notebook to research about, he tried before but he hadn’t found anything the last time he went to the Library. Harry couldn’t wait until he made his own money, and he finally could leave the Dursleys and live away from them. 

Sighing, Harry started to carefully place all the things back into the loose floorboards as he stepped out from the cupboard, only to freeze from the unusual sight before him. In front of Harry happened to be a window, behind the window though, was a scary pure black owl holding a letter in its beak.

It was weird since owls slept during the day as they were nocturnal. Harry slowly stepped forward towards the window to open it, hoping he wouldn’t scare off the animal. “Hi, are you here to deliver something?” 

Harry then was amused by the unamused stare the bird gave him, as the owl stuck its beak forward to give him the letter. “Oh, thank you! You were a wonderful bird.” The bird puffed up and hooted and Harry was once again surprised by the owl, he wasn’t aware that owls could be so smart, but then again Harry would have said that about snakes if he didn’t speak snake-tongue.

Turning his attention to the letter as the owl had made his mind to stay on the window sill, Harry realised that it was addressed to him;

Mr. H. Potter,

The Cupboard Under the Stairs,

4. Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

It took Harry an astonishing amount of time to comprehend the address, before taking a deep breath and continued reading.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

The fact that it was a school seemed to jolt Harry’s brain because that meant there were enough people like him to need a school. But before Harry could jump in joy, he wanted to finish the letter.

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted 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. A school representative will be sent on the 31st of July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry quickly turned over the letter to continue; 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic

by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory

     by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration

    by Emeric Switch 

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

   by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions

   by Arsenius Jigger 

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

  by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

  by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 - Wand 

1 - Cauldron (Pewter, Standard size 2)

1 set - Glass or crystal phials

1 - Telescope

1 set - Brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, a familiar, OR an owl, OR a cat, OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

If what the letter said was real, Harry finally knew all those nights praying to anyone who listened to take him away from the Dursleys was coming true. Before Harry did anything, he turned to look at the clock, 07;56. Harry had an hour to do everything, so he ran quickly but quietly to the cupboard and grabbed a notebook and pen from the floorboard and quickly penned a reply to the Deputy Headmistress.

Dear Professor McGonagall, 

I apologise if this letter is not up to standards, but I accept my placement at Hogwarts; School of Witchcraft and Wizarding, but I would like proof that this letter is real, if possible.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter.

Harry then quickly handed the note to the owl and gently rubbed his hand on its feather, they were quite soft. “Take this with you, please and thank you.” And with that, the owl left with a hoot and Harry began cooking breakfast.

[seriousbrat]

i think that regarding crabbe and goyle it’s also important that we meet them when malfoy’s offer of “friendship” is still fresh. in book 1, things haven’t gotten as multifaceted and political, and so malfoy is introduced to be the minor antagonist at school. having henchmen, for lack of a better word, establishes this easily, especially in contrast to harry and his two best friends that he values. having henchmen that harry couldn’t name three things about cements that it is malfoy coming at the trio, not an equally balanced antagonistic interest. additionally, malfoy’s friends/friendships are portrayed as flat, transactional, and sycophantic because his offer of friendship needs to be and remain extremely unappealing to harry. “here’s malfoy and his interesting and dynamic social circle (of which he still remains the leader)” doesn’t serve that function as well. obviously by the later books we do want and need to see that complexity, and by then crabbe and goyle were already set as being lugs. but i agree completely — i wish we’d gotten more going on for them. the side characters on the whole of the series are so much more complex, though those characters are also mostly introduced later. and it is a let down that their fathers are named but utterly irrelevant

Absolutely, I think it's a purposeful contrast with the trio. It's very similar to Dudley's friendship with his gang, which is pretty clearly a type of friendship that Harry does not want. In HBP when Harry overhears Crabbe questioning Malfoy's orders to guard the Room of Requirement, he says ‘I tell my friends what I’m up to, if I want them to keep a lookout for me,’ which is a pretty good comparison. And I think in the final confrontation between the trio and Malfoy's gang in DH, this difference becomes more apparent than ever when the trio risk their lives to save Malfoy and Goyle, whereas Crabbe turns on Draco, nearly kills them all, and ends up dying to his own spell.

But yes, I agree that it works alright in the first book to establish Malfoy as an archetypal antagonist for a kid's book, and the opposite of what Harry would want in a friend, which is Ron and Hermione. Like I said haha, I think JKR just kind of had to stick with it after that, at least she managed to wring a bit of interest out of Crabbe in the end.

Also yeah, the fact that their fathers are named in the graveyard feels kind of like JKR was searching for names that could have been Death Eaters and just decided to use those two, then never wanted to use them again. The only time they are brought up again is after the Quibbler interview in OotP, and Crabbe Sr is present at the Dept. of Mysteries, but it would have been neater for Voldemort to name Yaxley or the Carrows, who are much more relevant later-- it's likely that Yaxley and the Carrows weren't characters at that point. There are hints that Theodore Nott was originally supposed to be more important/has some kind of backstory we never find out about, like Dean Thomas. But even so I think Nott sr.'s single line of dialogue (‘My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful –’) and Theodore's expression of "distaste" while watching the Thestrals gives them both so much more colour than the Crabbes and Goyles haha.

[otunnicliffe]

Chloe + Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone

Chapter 3: The Letters From No One

'The next chapter is entitled 'The Letters From No One, would anyone like to read?' McGonagall asks. 

'Hogwarts letters, Gwen!' James turns to the blonde excitedly. 

'I'll read it,' Remus offers. 

The teachers pull up an extra chair up front and Remus sits down it, before taking the book and starting to read.  

The escape of the Brazilian Boa Constrictor earned both Chloe and Harry their longest-ever punishment. By the time the pair were allowed out of their cupboard again, the summer holidays had started, and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

'Poor Mrs Figg,' Gwendolyn said, feeling bad for the woman. 

Both Chloe and Harry were happy that school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon, were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to to join in Dudley's favourite sport: Chloe and Harry hunting. 

'That Dudley kid is an absolute knob, isn't he?' Frank asked, and everyone couldn't help but agree. 

This was why both Chloe and Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where they could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came, they would be going off to Secondary school, and even though they would be split up, it would be the first time in either of their lives that they wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. 

'I've heard of that school,' Gwendolyn says. 'They've got a reputation of everyone that goes there being stuck up.'

'Well I think this Vernon is helping that stereotype!' Barty chortled. 

Piers Polkiss was going there too. Chloe was going to an all-girls school, St Beatrice's and Harry was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny. 

'They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall,' he told Harry. 

'I started to get angry again, but then I remembered they aren't actually going there are they,' James whispered to Gwendolyn. 

'Want to come upstairs and practise?'

'No thanks,' Harry said quickly.

'The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it-it might be sick,' Chloe chimed in-

A few people laughed at that. 

'They're both quite funny,' Arthur remarked. 

Then, she grabbed Harry and ran, before Dudley could work out what she'd said. 

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley and Chloe into London to buy their respective uniforms. Aunt Petunia was furious, as St Beatrice's had a very strict dress code and had a uniform that needed following, so they would have to pay for a uniform for her.

'Imagine that,' Arabella remarked, sarcastically. 'You have to pay for a uniform for the child you are supposedly looking after!'

While they were there, Harry was left at Mrs Figg's. Mrs Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Chloe rushed straight to Harry to tell him about her day (Honestly H, it was amazing, even though Aunt Petunia was sour all day!) and showed him her uniform. It was very big on her, as Aunt Petunia did not want her to grow out of her uniform any time quickly, meaning she would have to buy her a new uniform. 

'She's so petty, and for what?' Kimberly said, rolling her eyes. 

'I always knew she didn't like me, but clearly that's only grown with the years!' Gwendolyn scorns.

Later, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins,

'Dudleykins is the worst nickname by far!' Pandora remarked, wheezing from laughter. 

he looked so handsome and grown-up. Neither Chloe or Harry didn't trusted themselves to speak, or even look at each other. Harry thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.

'I don't blame him,' Sirius remarked. 'I bet he looked horrible!'

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when the twins went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. They went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"What's this?" Harry asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.

'Oh how dare he ask a question in the house where he lives,' Andromeda scorned sarcastically. 

'Your new uniform,' she said. 'I had to pay for her uniform but yours can be done here.'

'Tight-arse,' Amos remarked. 

As she said this, she glared at Chloe.

The twins looked into the bowl again. 

'Oh,' Harry remarked. 'I didn't realise it had to be so wet.'

'Idiot,' Snape hissed. 

James heard and turned around furiously. 'He obviously wasn't being serious, Snivellous!'

Chloe chuckled at this, realizing her brother was joking. However, Aunt Petunia must have missed the joke. 'Don't be stupid,' she snapped. 'I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished.'

'Or here's another idea, buy him the correct uniform!' James suggested snarkily. 

'Doubt it,' Harry whispered to Chloe. 

'Don't argue about it,' Chloe warned him, equally as quiet. Harry agreed, and the twins both sat down at the table, and Harry tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High -- like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. 

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

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

'Make them get it,' Dudley said, pointing a fat finger at Chloe and Harry. 

'He's been influenced by his parents so much he can't even say their names either!' Pandora quipped. 

'Get the mail, you two.'

'Make Dudley get it,' The twins said in unison. Aunt Petunia shuddered at this. 

'Poke them with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

'Encouraging the abuse, no surprise there!' Alice said, looking angry. 

They both dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and -- a letter for Chloe and a letter for Harry.

'This is it James! They are getting their letters!' Gwendolyn squealed excitedly, grabbing onto James's arm.

'Don't get too excited,' Remus announces, clearly having read on. 

'They don't get them here?' James asks, confused. 

'They get them, but they don't keep them,' he says, and James and Gwendolyn huff. 

The twins picked up their respective letters and stared at each other. Chloe felt as if her heart was twanging like a giant elastic band. No one ever, in their whole lives, had written to either of them. Who would? They both had no friends, no other relatives- neither of them belonged to a library, so they'd both never even got a rude letter asking for books back. Yet here it was, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Miss. C. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Chloe quickly turned to Harry and looked at his.

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. 

Chloe watched silently as Harry turned his envelope over, his hands trembling. They then both saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, a eagle, a badger, and a snake, surrounding a large letter H. Chloe quickly turned hers over as well, and saw that she had the same seal. 

Before either of them could say something to the other, a noise came from the kitchen. 

'Hurry you you two!' shouted Uncle Vernon, 'What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?' He chuckled at his own joke. 

'At least he laughed, because that was not funny!' Peter said.

'I agree wormy, it was rubbish,' Sirius adds. 

Before following her brother into the kitchen, Chloe hid her letter under the jumper she was currently wearing, and kept its place by her stomach and her jeans. 

'Good idea to be fair,' Molly said. 

Harry just walked into the kitchen, still staring at his letter.

'Oh dear,' Gwendolyn said. 'I have a feeling its going to cause a situation.'

Harry handed Uncle Vernon the bill and postcard, and sat down, ignoring his sister's silent stares as he started to slowly open the yellow envelope.

'That's a bit stupid,' Gwendolyn says, a hint of exasperation in her voice. 'He should have done what Chloe did and hide it!'

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. --."

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"

'Here we go,' Kimberly says, turning to Gwendolyn. 

Chloe put her head in her hands, she knew this was going to happen.

'At least one of your children has some sense, Potter,' Severus quipped at James, a sly look upon his greasy face. 

'Shut your face!' James seethed, nearly having to be held back by Gwendolyn. 

Remus decided to continue before things escalated further. 

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise. "Vernon! Oh my goodness -- Vernon!"

'Oh no, it's almost as if you knew this was going to happen!' Andromeda said, rolling her eyes. 

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Chloe, Harry and Dudley were in the room.

 Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick. "I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

Suddenly, Uncle Vernon turned and stared at Chloe, anger prominent in his face. 

James's fists clenched up.

'Harry, Dudley, get out, both of you,' croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

'Why not Chloe?' Peter asks. 

'He knows she's got a letter too,' Gwendolyn said, her face white from fear. 

Harry stared at Chloe, not moving. 

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

'Now you,' Uncle Vernon seethed, turning his face to Chloe, as she watched him fearfully. She saw Harry and Dudley in the door, and that only made her more scared. He started moving towards her, before she was all way against the wall with nowhere to run. 

'I really, really want to punch this guy,' James cursed, his face going slightly red. 

'Give me your letter, if you know what's good for you!'

'Vernon-' Aunt Petunia tried to chide in.

'Shush Petunia!' Vernon screeched, and Aunt Petunia fell silent, fear evident on her face. 

James's face went redder. 

When Chloe didn't give up her letter, she slammed her small body against the wall harshly. 

Everyone was shocked. 

Then, his hand went round her throat, he started choking her.

'That fucking asshole!' James yelled, anger palpable on his face. 

'James, it hasn't happened yet,' Arabella said, trying to calm him down. 

Chloe's eyes instantly filled with tears as her breathing became unusual, partly due to her Uncle's abuse, but also due to the fear that was coursing throughout her body. A shaky hand reached underneath her jumoer as she pulled out the letter. Vernon's hand left her neck as he swiped the letter harshly from his hand, and Chloe fell to the floor, a crying mess. 

'So he just abuses women, what a little bitch,' Regulus says, a look of shock on his face that was mirrored with everyone else in the room, excluding the teachers. 

'Now get out,' He mutters, not even looking down at Chloe. 

Chloe didn't need to be told twice, as she opened the door to reveal a pale-faced pair of Harry and Dudley. Even Dudley could not believe what had just happened. 

'The fact that even he thought it was to far really says something,' Narcissa remarks. 

She slid past them and went into the cupboard, shutting it behind her not even letting Harry in, as she cried and cried and cried, having a panic attack. Harry tried to open the door gently. Eventually, Chloe had calmed down, and Vernon and Petunia had stopped their conversation, Dudley was still outside of the door, confused as to what was going on.

'Are you ok?' He asks Chloe, a look of confusion on his face. 

Chloe and Harry both looked up at him in surprise. 

'Better now, thanks,' Chloe muttered, but he heard her. He then went upstairs, muttering something about 'odd' and 'dad'.

'Are you actually ok?' Harry asked his sister, as he hugged her tightly. 

Chloe nodded, then said 'That was the most scary experience of my life.'

Later on that evening, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Chloe and Harry in their cupboard.

'I think that asshat needs to fucking apologise for what he did!' James commanded, anger still present in his face. 

Chloe didn't even look in his face, the fear of him was still very much there for her. 

'Where's our letters?' said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to us?

"No one. They were addressed to you both by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it.'

'He did what!' Sirius remarked. 

'Do they actually get their letters in this chapter?' Kimberly asks, a sneaky feeling in her stomach telling her that they weren't.

Everyone watched attentively as Remus skim-read the final few pages of the chapter. After a few minutes, he looked up and shook his head. 

Groans filled the room, for some due to the injustice faced for Chloe and Harry, and other (especially in Bellatrix's case) because they just wanted this story to hurry up. 

At this, Chloe raised her head, and looked at her brother, both of them shocked. 'It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it.'

'SILENCE!' yelled Uncle Vernon, and Chloe bowed her head yet again and tried to control her breathing before she had another panic attack.

'Asshole,' James said.

He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful. Harry was glad that his sister wasn't seeing it, as the sight enough would probably set her off on another panic attack. 

'Er -- yes, Chloe, Harry -- about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you're really both getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom.' 

'I mean they should have had the bedroom before anyway,' Arabella retorts. 

Chloe raised her head once again at this, and even dared to look at Uncle Vernon. 'Why?' asked Harry.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped their uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room. He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbour's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favourite program had been cancelled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.

'They had TWO extra rooms and my children had to sleep in the cupboard!' Gwendolyn seethes.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, I don't want him in there... I need that room... make them get out...."

'I'm sure he could live without two rooms for himself,' Molly snaps. 

Both Chloe and Harry sighed and stretched out on the two single beds that occupied the room. 

'You know, Chlo, yesterday I would have given anything to be up here,' Harry stated. 'But today I'd rather be back in our cupboard with our letters.'

'It's not our cupboard anymore, H,' Chloe told him, her voice almost void of any emotion. 

'Poor thing sounds so shook up,' Alice says sympathetically. 

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back.

'Finally he's learning that he can't have everything he wants!' Pandora mentioned.

Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Chloe did everything in her power to not look at her Uncle. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to the twins, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one each! 'Mr. H. Potter and Miss. C. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive --'"

'He was stupid to think the letters would just stop to be fair,' Arthur remarked. 

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Chloe stayed in the kitchen, not daring to move, same with Aunt Petunia. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand. "Go to your cupboard -- I mean, your bedroom with your sister," he wheezed at Harry. "Dudley -- go -- just go."

Chloe laid on her bed, as Harry walked round and round their new room.

'Someone knew that we've moved,' Harry told his sister. 

'And they know we didn't receive the first letter,' Chloe adds, finally some emotion coming back into her voice. 

'Surely, this means that they will try again?' Harry said. 

Chloe sat up, watching her brother pace. 'You're planning something aren't you?'

'I have a plan,' he confirms. 'But I don't want you involved in it, he's hurt you enough.'

'He's such a good brother,' Molly coos. 

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently.

'Is this your plan?' Chloe mumbles, still half-asleep. 

'Yep,' Harry murmurs in response, as he left the room quietly and stole downstairs, but not before telling Chloe 'I'm going to wait for the postman to come.'

Chloe started falling back to sleep, when suddenly she heard Harry let out a shocked scream. She rushed out of her room and turned the light on quickly. To their horror they realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do.

'He really doesn't not want them to receive their letters does he?' Peter asks, his face full of food once again.

He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told Chloe to go and make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably into the kitchen behind his sister, and by the time the pair of them returned, the mail had arrived, right onto Uncle Vernon's lap. 

Both of the twins could see six letters, 3 each. 'I want --' he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before their eyes. Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

'He really really does not want them to get their letters,' Pandora added.

'See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, 'if they can't deliver them they'll just give up.'

'I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon.'

'For once, my sister is correct,' Gwendolyn states.

'Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me,' said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters each had arrived for both Chloe and Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

'Sounds like he's starting to lose it,' Arabella recons. 

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to both Chloe and Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Dudley asked the twins in amazement.

'Believe me, Dudley I wish I knew,' Chloe answered him.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy. 'No post on Sundays,' he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, 'no damn letters today --'

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one, while Chloe reached for the ones that were on the floor. 

'Chloe does seem to have more of a brain, Harry is very much like you, James,' Gwendolyn acknowledged.

'Out! OUT!' Uncle Vernon seized Chloe and Harry around the waist and threw them into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor. 

'That does it,' said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his moustache at the same time. 'I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!'

He looked so dangerous with half his moustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.

'At least Dudley seems to be having some kind of reality check,' Alice said, perpetually trying to find the positive in everything. 

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake 'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

'I'm sure he'll be just fine,' Narcissa scorns, rolling her eyes. 

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley, Chloe and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Chloe and Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering....

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table 'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? And Miss. C. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk.'

She held up two of the letters so that they could read the two green ink addresses. 

Miss. C. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

'Those letters are persistent,' Regulus remarks. 

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared. 'I'll take them,' said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

'Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?' Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

'He's deffo loosing it,' Kimberly remarks. 

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

'See! Even Dudley gets it!' Kimberly hollered. 

Chloe just gave him a sympathetic look. 

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dud ley snivelled. "It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television. "

Monday. This reminded the twins of something. They looked at each other surprised. If it was Monday -- and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days the week, because of television -- then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Chloe's and Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun -- last year, the Dursleys had given them both a coat hanger and Harry a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, Chloe getting an old skirt once belonging to Aunt Petunia. Still, you weren't eleven every day.

'I know I should expect it by now, but I can't believe they won't even celebrate their birthday properly!' Gwendolyn lamented. 

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought. 'Found the perfect place!' he said. 'Come on! Everyone out!'

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

'He's bloody mental!' Sirius exclaims. 

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together.

'That's not a good thing!' Xenophilus says, seemingly talking to the book. 

"And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!" A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-grey water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. Chloe and Harry huddled together to try and get some form of warmth. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house. 

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms. 

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and five bananas.

'Thar's not even proper food!' Barty grumbled. 'He just has completely lost it!'

He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shrivelled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Both Chloe and Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer them up at all.

'I have a feeling that will be proved false,' Gwendolyn muttered to James, who nodded in agreement. 

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and the twins were left to find the softest bit of floor they could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket together.

'That could kill them! They could get hypothermia!' Gwendolyn chastised. 

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Both Chloe and Harry couldn't sleep. they both kept shivering and turning over, trying to get comfortable, their stomachs rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. 

'How much longer until out birthday?' Harry asked his sister, desperate to take his mind off the cold. 

Chloe leaned away from him and stared at Dudley's watch. 'Ten minutes,' She then told him, her voice quivering with the cold.

'I wonder if they have remembered,' Harry remarked. 

'Doubt it,' was all that came out of his sisters mouth. 

'Five minutes now,' she told him minutes later. 

They heard something creak outside. They both hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although Harry might be warmer if it did.

Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that they'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that?

'Someone's there I'm telling you,' Gwendolyn says to no one in particular. 

And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and they'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten... nine -- maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him -- three... two... one...

BOOM.

Everyone was listening intently. 

The whole shack shivered and the twins both sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

'But who?' Came an almost unanimous call from the students. 

Remus shrugs, 'That's the end of the chapter.'

'What!' Gwendolyn and James screamed in unison. 

'We'll continue straight on,' Dumbledore assures them, secretly happy that they are all enjoying this book now. 

[siriusly-disappointed]

I like to think that one day, when he's older and wiser, Dudley is talking to Piers and mentions his Aunt Marge and Piers says something along the lines of "that old windbag?"

And Dudley just starts crying laughing thinking about the time Harry blew her up like a balloon and Piers looks at him like he's crazy and he can't explain why it's so funny but just trust him it is

And he decides when he gets home to call Harry, and they go out for a pint that weekend, and he tells him what Piers said, and they share a moment of levity that they've never been able to before

[1littleshippergirl1]

The First Day

With his worn out backpack over his shoulders, the straps digging into Harry’s skin with how much things he’d stuffed inside, he made his way into the building. There was a large Welcome Back banner over the front entrance. The colorful walls were something he’d greatly missed. The summer holidays weren’t nearly as fun for him, not when he was forced in his cupboard when he wasn’t working on his chores. Harry disliked his outdoor chores the most because not only would the heat be unbearable at times, but the faint noise of kids his age shrieking happily whilst they played would reach his ears, reminding him of how he couldn’t have fun like that.

But it didn’t matter now.

Now they were back in school and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had to let him out. He was in Year Four and felt very grown up. He’d even grown an inch or two since last year so that meant he didn't need to use the foot stool to use the water fountain anymore. He was thoroughly glad because his height was one of the many reasons Dudley and his friends made fun of him. But it wasn’t his fault he was so much shorter. Maybe his parents had been short, too.

Harry was lost within his own thoughts. He didn’t see a foot coming out of nowhere. Consequently, he tripped and let out a squeak of alarm. He face planted right on the marble tile. Behind him, there was some laughter. Harry’s face scrunched up in pain, slowly sitting back up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the culprit: Piers. Piers was one of Dudley’s friends who often came around and was extra mean to Harry for no reason.

“Better watch your step, Potter,” Piers jeered.

Dudley came into Harry's vision next. “Good one,” he laughed like it was supposed to be clever.

Harry pulled his knee up close, grimacing. It was skinned already, bleeding a little, too. He glared up at them with as much intensity as an eight year old could muster. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Dudley and Piers made faces, imitating his words in exaggerated voices.

“That isn’t very nice! Oooh!”

“Stop it!” Harry didn’t like being mocked.

“Stop it!” They repeated in sync. “Stop it!”

Piers snuck a mischievous glance over at Dudley, snatching Harry’s glasses right off his face.

Harry jumped to his feet. “Give those back!”

“Give those back!” Piers mocked him.

“I mean it! They’re mine !” Harry’s heart quickened. He hoped Piers would give them back before the bell would ring. He couldn’t go through the rest of the day without them.

“Now, now, where are you manners?” Piers teased. “Didn’t anybody teach you some?’

“Nah,” Dudley chimed in, “he’s an orphan. He didn’t have anybody to teach him.”

They laughed.

Harry did not.

Piers turned to Dudley, grinning wickedly. “What should I do with ‘em?”

“Break them!” Dudley burst out gleefully.

“No!” Harry erupted.

“Mum and Dad won’t get him another,” Dudley told Piers.

“Please, Piers, don’t do it!”

“What’s in it for me?” Piers twirled the glasses in his hand.

“I don’t know,” Harry looked desperate. He’d be willing to do just about anything so he could see properly again. “What do you want?”

“Gimme your lunch,” Piers ordered.

Harry’s body slumped. “My lunch? But what am I gonna eat?”

Piers shrugged, holding his hands behind his back and trying to pull off a sad look on his face. “I guess you don’t want your glasses after all.... ”

He started to walk away. “No, wait!” Harry said quickly. He clumsily rummaged through his backpack through his blurry vision, coming across the plain brown sack he had his lunch in. “Here.”

Piers’ eyes widened greedily. He tossed the glasses to the side, eagerly digging through to see what goodies were inside. He threw out whatever he wasn’t interested in eating, which ended up being a plain turkey sandwich and a tiny bottle of water. “What’s the big idea?” He demanded. “Where’s all the good stuff?”

“He can’t have any,” Dudley jeered. “Freaks don't get sweets.”

Harry finally found his glasses. He got up and while he kept his eyes to the floor, he said bravely, “I’m not a freak.”

“Yeah you are!” Dudley insisted. “Mum and Dad says so!”

“You mean say so,” Harry quietly corrected.

Dudley didn’t like that all much. He shoved Harry to the ground, much to the amusement of the gathering crowd. They laughed at him when he went crashing to the floor on his back. It sent pain up his spine. “Freak!” His cousin shouted.

It got the other kids to chant as well. “Freak! Freak! Freaky boy!”

Harry hurryingly grabbed his backpack and his lunch items that Piers threw to the floor, pushing past the crowd as he went to his classroom. The laughter became distant after a while, but it still hurt nonetheless.

///

Harry went inside the colorful classroom. There were posters all over the walls, some were for measurements, others were for maps and reminders for how to make a sentence with the right punctuation or if one needed to know how to not make a run-on sentence. He stood near the door, glancing around. The desks were close to each other and oh! They had lids that lifted up where you could put your things inside!

“Hello there,” A pretty lady with soft looking light brown hair and a sweet smile came over to him. She had on a bright yellow dress and her hair was curly and bouncy on her shoulders. “I’m Miss Kelli. What’s your name?”

“Harry Potter,” Harry said shyly.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Harry,” Miss Kelli smiled. ‘Why don’t you take a seat? We’ll get started shortly. You can sit anywhere you like.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded and surveyed the room. Most of the seats were empty except for one desk that was next to the large window that faced the playground. A boy was sitting there all alone. His clothes were worn, like somebody had already had them before he did. His hair was dark brown, almost black like Harry’s own hair and he seemed to be frowning. Maybe he was upset because no one was sitting with him?

He went right over to him with a beaming smile on his face. The boy looked up. He didn’t say anything, he only stared. “Hi I’m Harry!” Harry extended his hand but the boy did not shake it. “What’s your name?”

The boy still didn’t speak.

“Did you hear me?” Harry tilted his head. Maybe he needed to be louder. “I said my name is Harry. What’s-”

“I heard you,” the boy said, annoyed.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you say anything, then?”

“I didn’t want to,” The boy said coolly.

“You don’t have to be mean,” Harry frowned. “I was only asking.”

“Well don’t ,” The boy glared at him as if he caused all the problems in the world. Kinda like how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon did.

“What’s going on here?” Miss Kelli came by, looking down at them, namely the boy, sternly. “Are you two getting along?”

Harry didn’t want the boy to get in trouble on the first day, even if he was a grouch. “We’re fine, Miss Kelli, honest.”

“You didn’t sound fine,” she wasn’t convinced. “Tom, you sounded upset. What’s wrong?”

So that’s what the boy’s name was.

Tom crossed his arms, another scowling coming out. “I’m fine,” he ground out.

“Tom, we don’t talk to people like that,” Miss Kelli said patiently. She pointed to a poster to the left of them, it was all about how to express yourself in a positive and helpful manner. “Do you see that over there? When you’re feeling angry, you need to take a deep breath and try to focus on something else. You don’t take it out on other people, okay?”

Tom huffed out a puff of air. “Fine.”

Miss Kelli said a few more things before she went back to her own desk. Harry stood there feeling awkward, like he was intruding on something. He waited until the teacher was gone to say anything else. “M’sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

Tom spared him a two second look. Then he went back to looking down at the wooden desk.

“Can I sit down?” Harry asked, tentatively inching his way closer. Tom didn’t respond. But he also didn’t move or explicitly say no, so he took that as encouragement to sit down. “Are you new?” He decided to ask while taking out the materials he needed for the day. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“No,” Tom said shortly.

“Really?” Harry was surprised. “Oh.”

A moment later, he had another question. “Were you in Miss Isobel’s class?”

The younger years were separated into two, sometimes three different classrooms depending on how big the year was. Harry’s year had lots of students so there were three classrooms for fourth years. They all had different schedules so that was likely why he didn’t notice Tom until now. It was strange, though; usually someone stayed with that same group until they were finished with primary school. They weren’t moved to another group unless they'd done something really bad. Tom didn’t look bad. He seemed harmless.

“Or Mr. Kenny’s?”

“So what if I was?” Tom grumbled.

“Why are you in this class then?”

“None of your business,” Tom told him.

“But why?”

“Because I said so.”

Harry got quiet after that. That’s what Uncle Vernon said during the rare times when he broke the Dursleys rule of asking a question.

///

“We should be friends,” Harry declared during art class. Miss Kelli took them to another room filled with artwork on the walls, easels in the corners and smocks hanging up to wear over their clothes. The easels were placed in rows and they were to sit at one next to their desk partner. They were allowed to paint whatever they wanted.

Tom was using a tiny brush dipped in green paint. He’d made a giant snake and was currently working on the scales. He paused, looking just like Aunt Petunia, as if he’d swallowed something unpleasant. “What?”

“We should be friends,” Harry smiled.

“No,” Tom said bluntly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to.”

“But why ?”

Tom gripped the brush much harder than before.

////

Tom was sitting alone at lunch. Just like in Miss Kelli’s room, he saw at the table that was furthest from everyone. Even though he declined Harry’s suggestion that they be friends, he was still going to try. Maybe Tom was having a bad day. No one talked to him at all. It was like Harry's situation, only this wasn’t because Dudley had scared the other kids. People just seem to naturally avoid Tom.

Poor Tom

Harry felt bad for him. He must have definitely been lonely. That only proved to him that Tom needed a friend. He couldn’t be by himself forever! So he made his way over there. He tried to be quick about it; Dudley was coming into peripheral vision.

“Hey freak !”

Harry sat on the bench, doing his best to ignore his cousin. “Hi,” he said.

Tom stared.

“I told you I didn’t want to be your friend.”

“Okay,” Harry said instead of arguing with him. “But I have nowhere to sit. Can I sit here.”

Tom muttered something he didn’t quite catch.

“Where’s your lunch?” Harry peered at him, his eyes brimming with curiosity.

Tom glowered at him.

It dawned on Harry in that minute. “Do you not have any lunch?”

Tom crossed his arms, his gaze wandering elsewhere. The faintest hint of red appeared in his cheeks.

“Do you want some of mine?” Harry offered. “I haven’t got much, only a sandwich and water. But you can have half of it.”

Tom looked like he didn’t believe him. Not until Harry unevenly tore the sandwich in half. He gave the bigger piece to Tom, who had a flash of surprise on his face. He hadn’t expected to be given anything. Harry glanced around, wondering how he could give Tom some water. He spotted a stack of plastic cups on a wheeling cart not too far from them. “You should get one of those,” he said. “I’ll give you some water.”

“Why?” Tom narrowed his eyes.

Harry blinked innocently. “Aren’t you thirsty?”

A few seconds passed by.

Tom got up to fetch the cup. He dropped the cup in front of Harry, watching determinedly as if to ensure that he was actually going to oit. And he did; he poured half of it into the cup and slid it back to Tom.

He didn't immediately dig in like Harry thought he would. In fact, he was just looking at it. Like it was some strange object.

“Do you not like it?” Harry asked. “I don’t have anything else but I can see if I can bring something different tomorrow.”

He watched as Tom’s eyes lifted from the sandwich to meet his own.

“Why did you give me this?”

“You looked hungry,” Harry said.

“You don’t even know me.”

“That’s alright,” Harry said. “I don’t mind. I’ll share with you tomorrow too if you want.”

Tom seemed like he was pondering his words and then very slowly he took a bite of the sandwich.

////

He didn’t know if he should go up to Tom this time. He was under a tall tree with his knees pulled up to his chest, glancing over at the fence. Harry wanted to; he wanted another chance at talking to him. But the other boy was giving off a feeling that made him reconsider; it was just like when Uncle Vernon had a bad day at work. He would go to his chair after coming back. Aunt Petunia knew better than to disturb and she’d tell Dudley to go find something else to do than watch the telly, which usually upset him until he was promised a new toy or a day full of fun with whatever he wanted to do.

Harry stood in the middle of the playground, watching him. He didn’t see Dudley coming up behind him until it was too late. He was yet again shoved, falling to the ground with one swift swipe. Harry turned on his side, looking up at his cousin with dread filling in his stomach.

“Leave me alone, Dudley,” Harry’s knees were aching.

“Why should I?” Dudley sneered.

“You’re being mean!”

“Aww,” Dudley mocked. “Is the freak gonna cry like a whittle baby?”

“I’m not a baby!” Harry jumped to his feet.

“Yeah you are!”

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah you are!” Dudley said loudly. “You’re a baby! Baby, baby !”

“Stop it!” Harry said hotly.

“Stop it,” Dudley imitated him.

Harry glared as fiercely as he could. He really wanted to wipe that look off his cousin’s face but he didn’t want to be grounded to his cupboard. Instead, he stormed off towards the tree Tom was under. He’d seen the whole thing, evidently. His expression was impassive as Harry plopped down.

“Do you know him?” Tom nodded toward Dudley’s direction.

“He’s my cousin,” Harry scowled for the first time that day. “He hates me.”

Tom only hummed. “He’s stupid,” he said at last. “He still can’t even remember his times tables.”

That brought a smile out of Harry. It was true; Dudley still struggled with previous years’ material. It was one of the reasons why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia got mad at Harry whenever he did better than Dudley.

Tom’s eyes landed on Harry once again. It made him feel like the other boy was staring deep into his soul or something. “Does he hurt you?”

“Huh?” Harry blinked. “Er, sometimes.”

“Sometimes how ?” Tom said impatiently.

Harry squirmed. He wasn’t supposed to talk about that. “Er, well-”

“Don’t bother lying to me,” Tom said sharply. “I can tell when people are.”

“I wasn’t,” Harry insisted. He fiddled with his hands under the scrutiny of Tom’s gaze. “Er, well, he hits me sometimes...and he has this game he plays with his friends, Harry Hunting.”

Tom arched an eyebrow.

A flush came over Harry’s face. The stare made his fidgeting worse. “They like to chase after me. Once Dudley’s friend Piers....he held my arms and Dudley punched me.” He grimaced, just remembering how painful his stomach was to the touch for weeks after.

Tom’s cold gaze lingered on Dudley, who was a ways away, standing in front of a smaller boy, holding up his fist threateningly. “He’s a coward,” he spat. “Only bloody cowards hit people.”

Harry pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment paper from his pocket and a couple of crayons. He was continuing to work on the picture he’d started this morning during their free time in Miss Kelli’s classroom. He still listened to what Tom was saying.

“-wonder how he’d like it, getting hit back,” Tom said in a scarily calm voice.

Harry’s head snapped in horror. Was Tom going to try and hit Dudley back? He didn’t want him getting hurt. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t! He’d be outnumbered.

“You’re...you’re not going to do anything, are you?”

Tom only smirked.

////

They were released at the end of the day. The younger years had to wait to be picked up by their parents but fourth years could walk home if they wanted to. Harry hurriedly grabbed his things, rushing down the hallway--but not running--so he could catch Tom in time before he left. The entrance doors flew open; he stood at the top of the cobblestone stairs, looking out for him. The sun was shining, a warm shadow coming over his face. He brightened up when he saw Tom at the end of the walkway, about to turn right.

He rushed down there. “Tom! Tom!”

Tom made a face when he saw him but it didn't hurt Harry’s feelings. He came to an abrupt stop in front of him, breathless and panting to re-catch his breath.

“What?” Tom said grumpily. “What do you want now ?”

Harry grinned toothily, but also a bit shyly. “I made you something!”

Tom blinked.

He held it up; it was a stick figure drawing of the both of them. Harry was drawn in red and he colored Tom in bright green. With a hopeful gleam in his eyes, he presented the drawing to him. He rocked on his heels. “Do you like it?”

Tom kept his eyes on the drawing, staring at it in wonder. “You drew this for me?” He demanded.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. He pointed to the corner of the paper where Tom’s name was scribbled in. “See? It has your name on it. Well, do you like it?”

“It is...acceptable,” Tom decided on. In a whisper, he added, “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry beamed. “You’re welcome!”

There was a tiny smile on Tom’s face.

Both boys were quiet. The only noise came from the chirping birds, the cars that passed by and the chatter of the other children. That is, until the doors came open again and Dudley ran out. Harry’s hands flew up to his mouth, his shoulders beginning to shake with laughter.

Dudley had a bucket over his head and apparently, he was having difficulty getting it off. “Mummy!” he wailed, running around helplessly. (Harry wondered how he didn’t fall on the stairs). “Mummy, help!” Dudley’s friends tried to run after him, yelling for him to stop so they could help. He did not do that, however. He kept running until he hit a tree and fell right on his back.

Harry laughed.

“Oh, I wonder if he’s alright,” Tom said in a voice that suggested he felt oppositely. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if he was hurt?”