चप्टर २ ऑफ़ अल्तेरिंग थे Future

Preface: Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. JK Rowling does. Do n0t sue me. I have no money.

Now on with the chapter.

Oh wait, before getting on with the chapter: I don't know how to turn that translation thing off, (And I've tried) but the title of the post is supposed to be Chapter 2. So just to let everyone know: The title says Chapter 2, Altering The Future.

Chapter 2:

In the future....

The two people who were silently watching the goings on the people in the past, start slightly when they hear a door bang open. Wands drawn, ready to attack, they pause as they hear loud, but familiar voices, arguing.

"Never mind," one of them says, sighing and placing his wand back in his arm holster. "It's just them..."

"Arguing like usual."

Present:

"And now it's Fred turn to read," George says, grinning.

Fred holds out his hands. "That's right mate. Hand it over!"

"With pleasure," George says as he hands Fred the book and then looks down at his empty glass. "Perhaps we can get something more to drink? I'm feeling a bit parched."

As Minerva is about to speak, all of sudden there was another flash and about eight or night bottles of Butter Beer appeared on the table.

All three Weasley grin. "BRILLIANT!"

Draco and Severus just scowled, Albus just smiled and Minerva tried her best not to smile.

"Well," Fred drawls, " our benefactor seems to have supplied us with drinks, I think we shall move on."

"Please," Snape snarls.

Chapter Two: The Vanishing Glass.

Draco: Riveting title right there.

All three Weasleys(absentmindedly): Shut it Malfoy.

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

Draco(sneering): This chapter already sounds exciting.

All Three Weasleys(Again) Shut up Malfoy.

Severus: Five points from Gryffindor for rudeness.

Minerva: Severus!

The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets-but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother.

Draco: What's a computer game?

Ron: Muggle thing, Malfoy.

Draco: Oh. Boring.

Fred: Are you going to say that about every Muggle contraption we may hear about in this book?

Draco: Yes.

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

Severus: Really? Where's Potter?

Minerva: Don't you dare act like you care!

Severus: I'm not. I don't. I'm just asking out of sheer curiousity.

Albus: He's there Severus.

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

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Fred: That's a nice way to wake up.

George: Yes. Just what you want to hear, first thing in the morning

Fred: A shrill voice along with your eggs.

George: Would you like some toast with that?

Draco: You two are stupid.

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

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

He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door.

George: NO! GO AWAY!

Fred: DAMN YOU, YOU FOUL MUGGLE WOMAN!

Draco: All Muggles are foul.

Ron: We don't care what you think about Muggles, Malfoy.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

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

George(blinking): What kind of name is that?

Fred: The kind that makes a kid severely insecure.

Ron: It's bloody stupid nickname for stupid bully.

Severus: 10 points from Gryffindor for use of foul language.

Minerva: SEVERUS! Albus do something!

Albus: I am staying out of your quarrell my dear.

Draco: Translation: He's not going to do anything. Deal with it on your own.

All Weasleys: SHUT UP MALFOY!

Minerva( glaring at Draco): Five points from Slytherin.

The Weasley's smirk.

Harry groaned.

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

"Nothing, nothing…"

Dudley's birthday- how could he have forgotten?

Ron: Simple, mate. You probably didn't want to remember it.

Draco: Weasley, it's a book. I don't think Potter can hear you.

Ron: How many times am I going to tell you to shut up?

Fred: Too many. Just try and ignore him.

George: Bloody hard with his pale, ferret face in the room with us.

Ron: And with him making constantly sneering comments.

Draco: What am I? Invisible? I am in this room.

All Weasleys: Unfortunately.

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

Ron(shuddering): Spiders.. oh not the spiders!

Severus: Mr Weasley, whatever issue you have with spiders I do not care to know.

Ron: Do I look like I care about what you do not or do care to know? No.

Severus: 5 points from Gryffindor!

Minerva: That's it! 15 points to Gryffindor! For saying what's on his mind to his own Potions Professor!

put them on. Harry was used to spiders,

Ron(snarling): Well that's certainly explains how you handled my dislike of them.

Fred: Ease up there Ronniekins.

Ron: DON'T CALL ME RONNIEKINS!

Severus:If you don't settle down Mr Weasley, I will dock more points.

Ron: Then dock them!

Albus: Severus.

Severus: Albus?

Albus: Stop.

because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

Everyone scowls, even Malfoy.

Severus(facing Albus): Please tell me that this Ms Rowling is exaggerating.

Minerva(snarling): NO!

Ron and the Weasley twins glare at Albus.

Albus(calmly, but sadly): Keep reading boys.

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

Draco(frowning): What's a computer?

All of them look puzzled.

Fred: No idea. George?

George: Uh, that would be a no. Ron?

Ron: No.

Draco: You hang around with a Muggleborn! You mean your little Mudblood didn't tell you?

(Silence)

Minerva: 20 POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!

All ThreeWeasleys: HAH!

Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise-unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.

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

Minerva: No Mr Potter. I believe your father was like that when he first came to Hogwarts.

Albus(softly) He can't hear you Minerva.

Minerva: I know Albus. You don't need to remind me.

He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was.

Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes.

Albus: Miss Evans eyes.

Ron: He's getting tired of hearing that.

Minerva: I am sure he is.

Ron: Then why can't people stop saying it?

He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever rembember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

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

Silence.

Minerva(whispering at first): Car crash? (she rounds on Albus): THEY TOLD HIM THEY DIED IN A CAR CRASH?

Fred and George also round on Albus, but all they do is scowl.

Albus(speaking softly): Harry will get the correct information later, Minerva. Please calm down.

Minerva: Well! I never!

"And don't ask questions."

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

Fred: Yeah? Well I got news for you Dursleys!

George: Your life won't be quiet for very long!

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

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

Ron: And a good morning to you too!

Fred: You fat ugly pig!

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

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

All three Weasley's burst out laughing and even Draco has trouble not smiling. Severus just shakes his head.

Fred: GOOD ONE HARRY!

Ron: Too bad he's not here to hear that

Draco: It would make this experience even more unbearable.

Severus: Indeed.

Ron(whispering to his brothers): Let's hope that Harry can show up then.

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

His face fell.

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

Silence.

Draco(bellowing): Who the bloody hell gets thirty six presents?

Everyone just looks at him.

Draco: What? I don't even get that many!

Fred: Amazing.

Draco: Not really. I don't have that many relatives. If Mother could, she'd buy me more presents than she would normally get me, but Father never lets me get more than what he deems is needed.

Ron: Well that's good. About the lack of relatives. We don't need any more Malfoys than we have now.

Draco(sneering): The same could be said for the amount of Weasleys. STOP REPRODUCING!

Albus(speaking up before blood will be shed): That is enough for now, gentlemen. Continue reading.

Fred: : Where were we?

Draco: You're the one reading! You should know!

George: (pointing to a spot on the page): There.

Fred: Oh yeah! Thanks.

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

Draco/Ron: Mummy and Daddy? How old is this idiot?

(Silence)

Draco and Ron look at each other horrified.

George: And, we are moving on now!

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

Severus: Well I see someone hasn't passed their terrible twos yet.

Minerva: I'm glad to see that you're admitting your issues Severus.

Severus: I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE BOY!

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

Finally, he said slowly, "So, I'll have thirty…thirty…"

Draco: HAH!

Ron: What are you HAHing about?

Draco: I told you Muggles are idiots! And there's the proof! The moron can't add 37 plus 2!

"Thirty-nine sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then.

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

Fred: Dursley's deluded.

George: That fat tub of lard ain't a little tyke.

Minerva: And he's encouraging the boy to be greedy and selfish?

Draco: Apparently hes' showing us why all Muggles need to be exterminated.

Minerva: MR MALFOY! TWENTY POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN!

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

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

Minerva(coolly): I believe he has a name.

Ron: Yeah! It's Harry!

Draco: Unfortunately.

All Weasleys(absently): SHUT UP MALFOY!

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap.

Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away.

Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at the photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this.

Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

Fred: Marge?

George:Wait...

Ron: Isn't that the one that...

Fred: Harry uh...

George: Oh yeah...

Ron: Right.

Fred/George: Brilliant.

Severus(to Minerva): Do you have any idea what those three are babbling about?

Minerva: Don't try and figure it out Severus.

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there-or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

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

"Don't be silly Vernon. She hates the boy." snapped Aunt Petunia.

Ron/Minerva: HE HAS A NAME!

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

Aunt Petunia looked as thought she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled said Harry, but they weren't listening.

Fred: But that wasn't his fault.

George: No. It was Voldemort.

Drac and Snape both flinch.

Ron: Aww... scared of them name?

Fred: You should talk Ronniekins! You still flinch at his name!

Ron: DON'T CALL ME RONNIEKINS!

Albus(calmly) Fear of the name increases fear of the thing.

Severus(drawls sarcastically): Thank you, Albus for the extremely wise piece of wisdom.

Albus: Your welcome.

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

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

Draco(banging his head on the table): Muggles.

Fred: Keep that up Malfoy, and you'll get a headache.

Ron: SHHH! Don't tell him that!

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

All three Wealsey's burst out laughing, while Albus just shakes his head.

Fred: Dinky...

George: Duddydums...

Draco looks like he's trying very, very. VERY HARD, not to laugh.

"I…don't…want…him…t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang-"Oh, good Lord,they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically-and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat.

He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

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

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy-any funny business, anything at all-and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

Fred scowls.

George cracks his knuckles.

Ron looks like he wants to hit something.

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"

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

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

Ron: Think he's talking about accidental magic?

Fred: Yup!

George: Did Harry ever tell you his bouts of accidental magic Ron?

Ron: No. He barely talks about his life with Dursley's. He only told me a little about it when we first met, you gits.

Fred: Well, aren't we getting all huffy?

George: What's the matter Ronniekins?"

Ron: DON'T CALL ME RONNIEKINS!

Severus: WILL YOU THREE STOP AND GET ON WITH THIS BLOODY BLASTED BOOK!

Draco: They're killing me. Literally. I feel my brain screaming from the pain. Death By Weasley Banter. That will be my tombstone.

Ron: Oh if only.

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

All three Weasleys scowl and Minerva glares at the book.

Albus closes his eyes.

Draco smirks.

Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Draco: Oh for the love of--It's magic! It's magic you pathetic Muggle!

Minerva: Five Points From Slytherin. Now be quiet!

Draco: Hey!

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls).

The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it mush have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.

Draco: Okay. I have a new insult.

Ron: Oh yeah. A new insult. Can't wait to hear that.

Draco: Is that sarcasm?

Ron: Noooo...

Draco: Shut up. Muggle. Another word for idiot.

George(leans over to Ron): The sad thing is, when it pertains to those three idiots, he's right.

Ron: Don't let him hear you say that.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much as Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney.

Shocked silence. Minerva's eyes widen.

Albus just continues to smile serenely.

George chokes on his Butter Beer.

Draco even loses his smirk and straightens up in his chair.

Snape looks like he's about to pass out.

"HE APPARATED!" Ron shouted. "The bloody git never told me about that!"

"WOW! COOL!"

"AWESOME!"

"Bloody Potter," Severus snarls.

The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

Draco: Oh yes, Potter, becasue the wind just suddenly lifts people onto roofs.

Ron: Shut up! He didn't know about magic yet!

Draco: Awww... sticking up for Potty now are we?

Ron: FERRET!"

Severus: Five points from Gryffundor!"

Minerva: Five points from Slytherin!

George: This is nuts.

Fred: True.

Severus: OH JUST GET ON WITH IT!

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He like to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects.

Fred/George:Like to complain about Harry does he?"

This morning, it was motorcycles.

Fred(sarcastically): What? Not Harry? No... I don't believe it!"

"…roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

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

He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache:

"MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

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

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

Draco: Cartoon?

Ron: Muggle thing.

Draco: Boring.

Fred: You know, we're no longer going to explain things to you.

George: So stop asking.

-they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

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

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

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time.

Ron: Notice he said morning?

Fred: I noticed Ron. Let me continue

Ron: All right. I was just pointing it out.

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

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

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

Draco: Yes, Potty, you should have known.

Ron: STOP CALLING HIM THAT YOU EVIL GIT!

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

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

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

Draco: The snake had better taste.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Draco: Like I said. Better taste.

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

at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

Ron(snarling): When you weren't locked in your cupboard

Draco: Hey, calm down there Weasel. One might think you had more intimate feelings for Potter.

Once again a silence befalls the room.

Albus is suddenly wishing he wasn't locked in this room.

Snape looks decidely green while Ron looks like he want's to gag, while the twins just stare at Malfoy.

Then... one voice speaks up.

Voice: TEN POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN

Draco: PROFESSOR SNAPE!

Severus: CONTINUE TO ARGUE AND I WILL TAKE MORE!

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

It winked

Everyone starts to pay more attention.

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

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

"I get that all the time."

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

Draco: He's speaking to a snake.

Ron: You knew he could since second year you git!

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

Ron(debating about banging his head on the table): Stop talking to the snake!

Draco: HE CAN'T HEAR YOU!

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

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

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

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

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

Everyone snickers. Well everyone except Albus.

Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened-one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the nest, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Everyone bursts out laughing.

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

As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come…. Thanksss, amigo."

Fred: Okay...

George: Weird.

Ron: Harry told me about that. But still! Stop talking to snakes!

Draco: All proud of that fact are you Weasel?

Ron: Shut it, Malfoy!

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

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

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeezed him to death. But, worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

George: Whoops.

Fred: Oh what a bad idea.

George: Yes, bad.

Ron: Not good for Harry at least.

Severus: Will you three please shut up!

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go-cupboard-stay-no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

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

He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead.

Ron(whisper): Avada Kedavra.

Everyone, well everyone minus Draco, looks horrified.

This, he supposed, was the crash,

Minerva, going pale again, fixed a glare on Albus.

Albus: Minerva...

Minerva: I am sorely tempted to do some transfiguring right now.

Everyone slowly backs their chairs away from the table (Including Snape).

George(to Fred): Hurry! Continue reading!

though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.

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

This the all the Weasley's pause to glare at Albus.

Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.

Fred/George/Ron: What?!

Ron: Now that's wrong!

Fred: They're messing with his head that way!

Draco: You mean it wasn't messed up in the first place?

At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody like to disagree with Dudley's gang.

Ron: I would like to disagree.

Fred: Well that's the end of that chapter. Who's next? How about you Professor Snape?"

Severus: NO.

Minerva(strangely smiling warmly): I will then..

Fred blinks, places the book near her, and just scoots away from the table again।

____________________________________________

Author's Note: If you read this and enjoyed this, please leave a comment. Thanks!

Altering The Future: Reading Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone

Hello Everyone.

Before you get to reading the first chapter of my fic, here's a little disclaimer:

Disclaimer: I write HP fanfiction for fun and entertainment. I do not make money off of this. I am NOT JK Rowling, although I wish I was. I do not have any money, so please do not sue me.

And let's enjoy the story shall we?

Here we go:

Chapter 1:

The Beginning:

The setting was simple. Someone from the future wanted a certain set of people to read the books of a certain person and his friends. So this futuristic person did what any person would do to make someone read a book. They trapped them in a room...


"What do you mean the door won't open?"

"This blasted door won't open! Even Alohamora won't work!"

"I refuse to be stuck in this room with him!"

"You think I want to be in the same room as you, Weasel?"

"Stuff it, Malfoy! Go shove your head down a toilet!"

"Five points from Gryffindor!"

"Hah!"

"Five points from Slytherin!"

"Minerva!"

"Watch it, Severus!"

"This is ridiculous!"

Albus Dumbledore surveyed the scene with bemused satisfaction. The staff room was somehow locked and the people in here wanted to get out. Not surprising really, considering the group. Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley and Fred and George Weasley. Those two boys had already left, but had come to see their brother Ron, who was in his sixth year now. Quite a motley group of people really.

"Albus!" Minerva turned to him in a flash. "Is this your doing?"

"No," he said calmly. "I believe it's the doing of whoever is doing that." He pointed upward towards the ceiling.

Somehow, this got the Weasley children and Draco Malfoy to stop arguing as they all looked up to see some sort of… hole in the ceiling. And not just any hole. It was blue and it was swirling around. Then, all of a sudden, a flash of lightning streaked from the hole to the table where Albus was sitting at and then disappeared, leaving not a scorch mark, but a book.

"It's a time traveling spell of sorts," he continued calmly. "Someone from the future sent us something. Whoever sent us that book is making it impossible for us to get out."

"Cool!" Both Weasley twins chorused at the same time. "What kind of book?" Their voices continued in sync.

Albus smiled, "See for yourself." He stared at the others, his blue eyes twinkling. "Well, Mr Malfoy, Severus, Minerva, we might as well join Mr Fred and George Weasley." He glanced at Ron. "You too Mr Weasley."

"What about Harry?" The boy snapped. "He's going to be wondering where I am!"

"Saint Potter," Draco muttered as he sat down in a chair. "Can't stay away from him for more than a minute, can you Weasel?"

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"That is enough, the both of you," Minerva snapped as she took her seat. Severus sneered at all of them before sitting down himself.

"So why is that blasted book here?" He snarled.

"It's about Harry!" One of the twins chorused.

"Why am I not surprised?" Severus muttered.

"There's a note! Read it George."

"All right, hold on."

Mr George Weasley cleared his throat.

"That's it!" Severus snarled. "Twenty points from Gryff-"

"Severus, you can't take points from those who are no longer taking classes in this school," Albus interceded calmly. "What is the title of the book?"

Fred and George looked at the book. "Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone!" They chorused.
"Who shall read first? Ron?"

Ron's face went red. "No, thanks."

"Malfoy?"

"I'm not bloody well touching that thing."

"Professor Snape?"

"NO."

"McGonagall?"

"Not at the moment now, thank you boys."

All eyes landed on Albus, "No, boys, I think you should have the pleasure of reading first."

"Cool!"

"Fred?"

"Yes, George?"

"Would you like the first shot?"

"Why thank you Fred. Are you sure you don't want to go first?"

"Well..."

"GET ON WITH IT!" Snape snarled.

George and Fred glanced at each, identical grins cracking. One of them opened the book. "Let's see... okay. Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived."

Severus (snarling): More like the Bloody Boy Who Wouldn't Die.

Albus (calmly): I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

Severus: You do that.

Minerva gets up and starts bustling around the Staff Room. She places drinks in front of everyone and then sits down again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Ron: Stupid muggles!

Fred: Quite right Ron.

Draco (sneering): All muggles are stupid.

George: These ones are the worst though.

They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with that nonsense.

Minerva: Nonsense? They think what we do is nonsense? Well, I never!

Mr Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck,

Severus (drawling): She sounds like an attractive woman.

Draco chuckles.

which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

Fred and George snort in disbelief.

Ron just laughs.

Fred (sarcasm evident): Yes, such a fine boy.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters.

Severus: I don't blame them.

Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish

Minerva (scowling): That is not a word! Who is this writer that Mr Potter told his life story too?

George (looking at the cover): A J.K. Rowling.

Draco: I've heard of the Rowlings! They're an old wizarding family. Somewhere in Wales, I think.

Ron: Thank you Malfoy for that completely useless bit of information. Now shut it.

as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street.

Severus: Once again, I can't blame them.

Albus: Severus...

The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son too, but they had never seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away - they didn't want Dudley mixing with a boy like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his highchair.

None of them noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window.

All: Muggles.

Fred: Never notice anything.

George: Bless them.

At half-past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.

Severus: This boy sounds spoiled.

All three Weasleys: He is.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

Fred: Little?

George: Did I just hear the word little?

Ron: That tub of lard is not little!

Fred/George: Way to go Ronniekins!

Ron: DON'T CALL ME RONNIEKINS!

For a second, Mr. Dursley didn’t realize what he had seen-then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn’t a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in the mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive-no, looking at the sign; cats couldn’t read maps or signs.

Minerva smiles.

Severus snorts.

Draco just looks confused.

Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes - the getups you saw on young people!

Severus: And what is so wrong with what we wear?

Fred: Well I don't know about you, but we wear perfectly fine robes and cloaks.

Severus: What about me?

Minerva: You look like a bat Severus.

Severus: What's your point?

Minerva: That was my point.

He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Durlsey was enraged to see that a couple of them weren’t young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him!

Severus: This muggle needs help.

Draco: Maybe the Avada Kedavra could help him?

Minerva: MR MALFOY!

But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt-these people were obviously collecting for something…yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Draco: What are drills?

Fred/George: Muggles use them to make holes in wood.

Draco: Really? Why?

Minerva: To help them build things.

Ron: Weird.

Draco: What do you expect? It's a muggle.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn’t, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn’t see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, thought people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime.

Draco: Stupid muggles.

Ron: Well I agree that these one's are.

(Total Complete Silence.....)

Fred/George: Did Ronniekins just AGREE with Malfoy?

Ron: DON'T CALL ME RONNIEKINS!

Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more.

Severus: He likes shouting doesn’t he? Doesn't he know he can get a lot more accomplished with a whisper?

Minerva (sniffing): Not everyone can be intimidating when they whisper, Severus.

Severus: Well, yes, I suppose it's an art that not many can do.

Both the Weasley twins snort with laughter, while Ron pretends to gag.

He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he’d stretch his legs and walk across the road to by himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard-"

"-yes, their son, Harry –"

Severus (scowling): Potter.

Mr. Dursley stopped dead.

Draco: Too bad it didn't actually happen.

Fear flooded him.

He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialing his home phone number before he thought better of it.

He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking...

Severus: Thinking? This man can think?

no, he was being stupid.


Fred: No surprise there, really.

Draco: Hey, as long as he's admitting it.

Potter wasn't such an unusual name.

Minerva: Actually...

Severus: Please. Do not tell me there are more Potters. I couldn't take it.

Minerva: There are.

Severus (scowling) I can't escape the Bloody Potters anywhere can I?

Ron: Nope.

Severus: Five points from Gryffindor.

Minerva: Severus!

Severus: What?

Minerva: Albus!

Albus (calmly) Keep reading please.

Minerva: What I meant to say that Potter was a common last name, around Muggles as well!

Severus: It's still bad.

Draco snorts.

Fred: Reaching. He's reaching.

George: It's called desperation.

There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley, she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her - if he'd had a sister like that...but all the same, those people in cloaks...

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before

Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak.

He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground.

On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passers-by stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

Everyone blinks.

Minerva (bellowing): Did... what on earth was that wizard thinking! Of all the idiotic...

Draco: Probably was in Hufflepuff.

Minerva: Mr Malfoy!

Draco: What?! I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking!

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley round the middle and walked off.

Mr Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a muggle, whatever that was.

Draco (sneering): That would be you, you big fat lump and huge waste of existence.

He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood-was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings round its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

Minerva: Shoo? He thinks saying Shoo is going to make me go away?

Severus: Well he could always use a broom.

Was this normal cat behavior, Mr. Dursley wondered.

Ron: Oh no, it's normal.

George: It's normal for a cat to read maps and just stay in one spot all day long. Yes, it's really normal.

Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner about Mrs. Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!").

Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in all directions since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"

"Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars!

Ron: Idiots. All of them are idiots.

Draco: These are Mmggles you're talking about Weasel. All of them are idiots.

Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early-it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair.

George: Ohhhh, if only it was true...

Severus: Stop stalling and continue reading!

Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters...

Severus: Well this muggle doesn't seem too much of an idiot. He's putting things together.

Ron: Professor... you're talking about Vernon Dursley.

Severus: Your point?

Ron just shakes his head.

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er - Petunia, dear - you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls…shooting stars…and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought ... maybe ... it was something to do with ... you know... her crowd."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips.

Minerva: I really don't think that's possible.

Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter". He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son - he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

Ron: NOBODY ASKED YOU!

Fred/George: YOU GITS!

"Oh yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it was waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did…if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind ... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on-he yawned and turned over - it couldn't affect them…

Minerva (softly) Oh how wrong you are Mr Dursley. How very wrong.

How very wrong he was.

Minerva: See? I told you.

Severus: Minerva, it's not polite to gloat.

Minerva: Shut it, Severus. You gloated every year when you won the House Cup. It's my turn to gloat.

Severus: You've had your turn to gloat ever since Bloody Potter came to Hogwarts!

Minerva: That's right, I did! And I'm going to gloat some more! So there!

All four students looked at the Professors in awe as they argued. They've never seen these two like this before... acting like... well, like them.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting off into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no signs of sleepiness. It was sitting still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

Albus: Long night, was it Minerva?

Minerva: You won't believe how long. My back still aches when I think about that night, Albus.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.

This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus (smiling and in a soft voice): I'm glad Ms Rowling has mentioned me

Ron: Well we can't very well have a book about Harry in it without you can we Professor?

Draco: Stop sucking up Weasel!

Ron: I'm not sucking up! I'm being polite, which you have no idea how to be, Mr Ferret Malfoy!

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived on a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

Ron: What should you have known?

Draco: Apparently that the cat would be there. Pay attention, Weasel.

Ron: I AM! AND QUIT CALLING ME WEASEL, FERRET!

Severus: Will you all bloody well shut up so we can get on with the story?

Ron/Draco: NO!

He had found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out
with a little pop.

Fred: Cool.

George: Awesome, Professor.

Fred: I WANT ONE!

Albus blushes.

He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer,

Ron: Put-Outer? Not very original is it?

Fred: Well? What else should it be called?

Ron (thinking):...Well I don't know! But anything but that! It sounds so... boring.

until the only lights left in the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement.

Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street towards number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

Fred: HAH! I KNEW IT WAS YOU!

George: No normal cat just reads maps!

Fred: But uh George, none of us are normal... if you go by the Dursley's definition.

George: True...

Severus: Stop rambling! Finish the chapter!

Albus: Let's make Severus happy. Let's continue on with the book.

Fred: Aww... do we have to?

George: We were just getting warmed up!

Ron: And we were having so much fun irritating him.

Severus: Fun, were you? Well now I know who to test my newest poisons on.

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one.

Fred: BOOO! GREEN! BOOO! DOWN WITH SLYTHERIN!

Severus: Emerald? I always knew you liked the House of Slytherin, Minerva.

George: DOWN WITH SLYTHERIN! DOWN WITH SLYTHERIN!

Draco: Oi, you two are real mature.

Minerva: Green looks good on me. I wear it because of that. Not because of your bloody house, Severus.

Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

Ron snorts.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

Severus: What is with all the sniffs?

Minerva: Severus, if I want to sniff, I'll sniff.

Severus: My my, are we a little touchy?

Minerva: Severus...

"Oh yes, everyone’s celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You’d think they’d be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something’s going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley’s dark living room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls…shooting stars…Well, they’re not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent-I’ll be that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

Ron: Who's Dedalus Diggle?"

Draco: Some one who apparently decided to make shooting stars go down in Kent.

Ron: I wasn't asking YOU!

Draco: But I still answered.

Ron: Shut it Malfoy.

Draco (sneering): Poor Ronniekins.

Ron: DON'T CALL ME RONNIEKINS!

Draco: Hufflepuff.

Ron: Malfoy.

Draco: What? It's true. Hufflepuffs have no sense.

Minerva: Ten points from Slytherin.

Fred/George: Hah!

"You can’t blame them," said Dumbledore gently. We’ve had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about as all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

Fred: Well, rather unfortunately, he comes back in Harry's fourth year.

Ron: Can we please not talk about that?

George: Okay. What shall we talk about then?

Ron: How about the book?

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

Everyone stares at Albus.

Albus just smiles.

Draco just rolls his eyes.

Fred: Only you would ask if someone would want a lemon drop after someone asks that type of question.

George: We always knew he was mad.

Fred: But a cool type of mad.

Albus just chuckles.

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

Fred just shakes his head.

George: You're just awesome.

Fred: Really. Brilliant. Nuts, but brilliant.

Draco: Quit with all the arse kissing and finish reading.

Ron: Getting a bit jealous there Malfoy?

Draco: I think NOT.

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone-"

Fred (turning to Minerva): Say it with me Professor. Voldemort. Come on.

Minerva: Mr Weasley, cease that this instant!

George: Aww, come on.

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this
"You-Know-Who" nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemons drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying "You-Know-Who".

Fred: Really? You mean there were others with the name You-Know-Who?

George: Cool. How many others were there?

Severus What are you two babbling about?

Fred: Well if it was confusing, there had to be a few others as well.

George: Yeah! Who else is named You-Know-Who? Malfoy?

Ron: No. That would be The-Ferret-Of-Slytherin.

Draco: SHUT UP!

Fred/George: Good one brother!

"I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

Ron: Well that's you Headmaster.

Fred: We all know you aren't always there.

Minerva: MR WEASLEY!

Albus laughs.

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you’re too-well-noble to use them."

"It’s lucky it’s dark. I haven’t blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

All three Weasley's burst out laughing, while Minerva blushes, Severus scowls and Draco looks like he's going to be sick.

Severus: That was in image we could have done well without.

Draco: My mind is fragile. I don't think I can take much more of this.

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

Ron: Well, let's see.

Fred: Could it be that he got his arse kicked by a baby and he couldn't bear to show himself to his Death Eaters?

George: Any mad, wannabe evil dictator would be afraid to do that.

Severus' scowl drops and his face pales.

Ron: This part sucks.

"He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are-are-that they're–dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…Oh, Albus…"

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know…I know…" he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But-he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke-and that's why he's gone."

Fred: Well despite how he went away...

George: Rather depressing in the manner...

Fred: We still were quite happy. Sucks though.

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's-it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done…all the people he's killed…he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding…of all the things to stop him…but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Fred: I hate not knowing.

George: Not knowing sucks.

Fred: Spot on George.

Draco: Can you two put a lid on it?

Fred/George: No.

Severus: Why, for the sake of Salazar, can you not?

Fred/George: Because one of us is reading and the other just has to make remarks.

Ron: Simple enough?

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles.

George: Awww...

Fred: Whoa! You can cry! I didn't think it was possible!

Ron: Harry and I found out that she can.

Minerva: I am human.

George: Sometimes that escapes us. You're just so... so...

Fred: Scary.

Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge.

Fred: Cool.

George: I want one.

Ron: You both want a Put Outer, now this?

Fred/George: YES!

Draco: You two are too easily amused.

It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

Ron scowls at Albus.

Albus: Yes, Mr Weasley?

Ron: They don't treat him like family!

Albus: I'm aware of that. But he needed to stay there.

"You don't mean - you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumpingto her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You c1uldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets.

All Weasleys: SPOILT BRAT!

Ron: TUB OF LARD!

Draco: I repeat, he's a Muggle. What do you expect?

"Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly.

Ron: Really? Was it now?

"His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

Fred: A letter?

George: Uh, not the best way to go I think.

Ron snorts. For the first time Albus looks sad.

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him!

Ron scowls. So do Fred and George.

He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry.

Severus (drawling): Like this one perhaps?

Draco: Bloody Golden Boy Potter.

Minerva (snapping): Five points from Slytherin.

- every child in our world will know his name!"
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half- moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head.

Ron: Well at least he didn't become like Malfoy!

Fred/George: That's the one good thing about that!

"Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind,

Severus: I didn't think you had it in you Minerva.

Minerva: Severus.

Severus: Really. I didn't know it was possible for you to change your mind.

Minerva: Would you like to me to use your bed as a litter box?

swallowed and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.

"Hagrid's bringing him."

Fred: Hagrid?

George: Why?

Draco: Who cares?

"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

George: Well that clears it.

Fred: I quite agree George.

George: Do you now? Well that's good. We must always agree.

Fred: Weasley Twin Code.

Ron: You two have a code?

Fred/George: Yes.

Severus: Will you two shut it and get on with the story.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

Ron: Brilliant!

Fred: I want one!

George: So do I!

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild –long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

Fred: Our first look at Harry.

George: About time! Since the book is about him of course.

Draco rolls his eyes.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it me. I've got him, sir."

Fred: Sirius? Cool.

Snape: It would figure Black would have had something like that.

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' round. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol." Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where -? " whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes", said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."

Ron: Which is something that will be a great cause of annoyance in the future.

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with."

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursleys' house.

"Could I - could I say goodbye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over
Harry and gave what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss.

Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

Fred: That's right Hagrid. Let us know how you feel.

Draco: I prefer not.

George: Who cares what you prefer,Ferret Face?

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s- sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it.
"But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles –"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found,"

Fred/George: Oh, that's comforting.

Ron: Yeah, Professor.

Minerva huffs.

Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door.

He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously and the twinkling light that usually shone in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

Fred: Not good.

George: Nope.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back.

Snape: It didn't do him any good though.

Ron: Professor... are you smiling?

Severus' smile fades instantly.

"G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorbike and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

George: Hey, don't lose that bike!

Fred: YEAH!

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her.

Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

A breeze ruffled the hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... he couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter - the boy who lived!"

Severus: The Bloody Boy Who Lived.

Draco: That was a painful chapter. Too much about Muggles.

George: Anyone wants to read the next chapter?

Draco/Severus: No.

Fred: Fine then, I'll do it. The book, George?

George: Certainly Fred.

Severus: Someone save me from this forced hell.