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A/N: I know that this Story has been done a few times before but this is my version of how the marauders and Lily read the Philosopher's Stone so please read and review and tell me if you would like me to continue! 

Disclaimer: Everything in bold is the Philosopher's Stone written by JK Rowling. The story is not mine- the reactions to the story are mine. The characters belong to JK Rowling also! 

Chapter Two- The Vanishing Glass 
 

“CHAPTER TWO THE VANISHING GLASS” Lily read slowly. The title only confused her as much as the idea of her carrying on reading a book that was about her fictional future. She paused for a while to look at the page, everyone giving her a mixture between bewildered and expected looks.   

 

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursley’s had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens 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-coloured bobble hats - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.

 

Lily looked up briefly and saw that James was glaring, slightly angrily, at the book in her hands. She felt it too. She felt a small wave of anger flit through her body, despite herself. Even though she knew it was all made up, she still felt something and was surprised how attached she’d become to her ‘fictional’ son in merely one chapter. 

 

Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long.

 

“Where am I?” Sirius demanded in frustration. “Why aren’t I looking after him?”

 

“Maybe you’re dead too,” Peter said casually, and before realising the words had slipped Sirius had punched him in the arm lightly.

 

“Shut up, Wormtail, I’m not dead, ok?” But he looked unconvinced. He seemed to be trying to come to some sort of silent agreement before he said, “I’m not am I?” He looked like an upset puppy; looking a Remus and James in turn, questioningly, as though what they said would determine whether he’d break down or laugh and joke.

 

“Nah, Pads,” Remus said finally, knowing his words would put Sirius’s mind to rest. “Hagrid borrowed your bike remember.” This seemed to have done the trick as Sirius brightened up considerably to the mention of his bike- he simply turned around smiling before letting Lily continue with her reading.   

 

His Aunt Petunia was awake, and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day.

 

"Up! Get up! Now!"

 

“Doesn’t sound like a particularly nice way to get up? What ever happened to the polite ‘Harry, Darling, it’s time to get up,’?” James asked bitterly.  

 

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. "Up!" she screeched.

 

“Merlin, woman,” Sirius yelled at the book. “He heard you!”

 

“Just because you have an idiot of a son,” James yelled angrily at the book. “Doesn’t mean we all have!” The others laughed hysterically at James’s remark.

 

“Good one, Prongs,” Sirius replied, high-fiving him.

 

Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

 

“It’s probably just the real thing, Harry,” Sirius commented quickly.

 

His aunt was back outside the door.

 

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

 

“Does that woman ever shut up- she’d only given him five minutes- if that at all,” Remus said getting angry himself now; Remus was usually pretty calm but when prejudice came into it, he didn’t stand for anything. He had been on the receiving end of it and he wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. 

 

"Nearly," said Harry.

 

“Poor dear,” Lily signed, before continuing to read.

 

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon.

 

“Bloody hell, this is slave labour. He’s only eleven,”

 

And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

 

“Duddy’s?” Sirius laughed. “What is he three- is mummy and daddy going to make his day extra special,” Sirius’s lips twisted into a sly grin as though he was thinking up at least a hundred different pranks he could pull on the Dursleys. A thought that had been completely stopped, when Lily gave him a look that told him quite pointedly that he should forget pranks and let her read.   

 

Harry groaned.

 

“Don’t blame you, mate,” Sirius continued. “I’d groan and all, waking up to that little cow screeching in the morning.”

 

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

 

"Nothing, nothing ..." Dudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed

 

“Yeah,” Sirius said, as though he had just come a decision he’d been trying to make for a while. “Defiantly takes after you, Prongs- you and your disgusting hygiene issues,” Sirius Grinned but James looked offended. His offence seemed to grow when he saw Remus nodding in agreement. “Even Moony agrees with me,” He said patting Remus on the back in a brotherly manner of thanks.

 

“I have you know, that all those socks are clean, under my bed is immaculate anyway, because unlike you I clean my part of the room regularly,” 

 

and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

 

“WHAT?!” James and Lily screamed in unison, apparently more than a little angry at hearing this information.

 

“Evans, your sister’s a monster; I’ve got house elves sleeping in better conditions than that!” James said directing his anger onto Lily whose family it was to treat their “Fictional” Son in such a way. 

 

“I never said she wasn’t,” Lily said indignantly. “And before you start directing the blame onto me like you’re some pathetic little child, let me remind you that you can’t have had much of a problem with my family when you married me and it’s not my fault that someone else isn’t looking after Harry SO SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO THE STORY BEFORE I LEAVE!” James became instantly silent after this. Apparently wishing had never spoken at all. And Even as Lily continued to read, she still felt as though things seemed too coincidental to be just “fictional”. 

 

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

 

“Sounds like a spoilt little brat to me,” Remus muttered.

 

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 favourite punch-bag was Harry,

 

“That little brat can’t go around punching my son- Petunia really was never one for discipline unless it involved me,” Lily said scratchily, failing to notice the soft warm look James was giving her. Yes, He thought, if she realises this isn’t fictional, maybe she’ll fall for me.  

 

but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.

 

“Just like his old man,” James said proudly, Lily rolled her eyes but continued to read never the less.

 

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

 

“Nah, just the Potter curse, he’ll grow out of that soon enough,” Remus said, laughing at the memory of an eleven year old James.

 

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.

 

“Just like you, James,” Alice said eagerly, sitting up now and sitting closer to the book, her eyes were a light. “Except for his eyes, he has his mothers’ eyes,” Alice smirked and looked over at Lily who did her very best to glare, Alice however noticed the very slight smile on her face.

 

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

 

James glared at the book, Sirius growled, and Lily's eyes flashed furiously, as she muttered about all the things she'd do to her sister.

 

The only thing Harry liked about his appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his aunt was how he had got it.

 

"In the car crash when your parents died," She had said. "And don't ask questions."

 

“Car crash” Lily said incredulously, pointing at the book in complete disbelief. “A car crash- we didn’t die in a car crash and Petunia knows this- and to think I’ve always tried to be so nice to her.” Lily suddenly became over come with guilt. “I knew she was horrible but I didn’t know she could be so evil- and telling him not to ask questions, well that’s awful- poor thing,” Lily continued to rant until James stopped her and told her to calm down.

 

His eyes told her, however, that he was burning with the same anger she was only chose not to show it.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“Another Potter curse,” James muttered. “Not even a taming charm will make our hair straighten out- it goes 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 muck 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.

 

“Has the Marauder charm,” James said proudly. “Shame we weren’t there to teach him a few tricks,” James was suddenly overcome with emotion; how could he not have been a part of his sons life? How could he have let him go with these people? There was absolutely no explanation for it.

 

“Don’t worry, James, me, Moony and Wormtail will save him soon,” Sirius said in an attempted to cheer his best friend up. “And we’ll teach him how to make proper trouble,”

 

“You will not Sirius Black,” Lily said shrilly. “I absolutely forbid you to teach my son- fiction or not- to cause Marauder trouble,” She said adamantly.

 

“Off course, whatever you say Lily Flower,” James said politely. Lily look satisfied and turned back to the book finding her place on the page. As she did so Sirius turned James questioningly while James mouthed ‘don’t worry you can’’ to a now grinning Sirius.  

 

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."

 

“Oh per-lease,” Lily laughed bitterly. “If he was my son I would have taken all his presents away for being so ungrateful, that’d teach him some respect.”

 

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

 

"All right then, 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.

 

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?"

 

“What,” James said incredulously. “But that’s pathetic, what parent has so little control over their child?”  

 

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.

 
“It’s probably painful and all,” Sirius said bitterly. “A great think lump like him,”

 

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

 
“Blimey,” Remus interrupted, looking somewhat shocked. “He’s thicker than you Padfoot,”

 “Hey,” Sirius pointed to himself with a look of utter offence. Everyone else in the room however, sniggered, nodding in agreement to Remus’s comment. 

 

"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.

 
“How can anyone honestly be proud of that,” Alice said rather disgustedly. “I know it’s your sister and all, Lily but honestly she really is evil,”

 

“Don’t worry Alice, I’m beginning to agree with you,” Lily muttered bitterly, under her breath. She had always done so much to build the bond between her and her sister again but her sister was never one to see further than the end of her nose. “Lets just be glad this is fictional, eh?” But not even she was sure anymore.

 It was as if someone had taken everything about her family from her head and put it on paper. No one knew this much about her sister, not even Alice and Severus. Something was really very wrong about this book. She shook her head as if to dismiss the thought that this book was real, before biting her lip and continuing with the chapter. 

 

At that moment the telephone rang

 
“The tele-what?” Sirius, James and Peter asked in unison.

 

“Honestly, do you three EVER listen in muggle studies?” Remus huffed, but the bewildered looks they gave him suggested that they did not. “A telephone is a device that allows you to communicate with another person instantly and have a conversation in any part of the world. Sort off like the flu network, only you can’t see the other person,”

 

“But what’s the point that?” Sirius said rather stupidly. “What’s the point of a telephone when you can use the flu network?” He continued as if it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

 

“They’re muggles you idiot- they can’t do magic,” 

 

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

 
“What do you think has happened?” Remus questioned looking mildly confused and interested.

 

“I don’t know but I hope its some bad news about her or her husband’s health,” 

 

“Sirius,” Lily gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in shock.

 

“Well, I do,” Sirius admitted sulkily, folding his arms like a six year old that hadn’t got his own way. “If anyone deserves bad news that family does,”

 

"Bad news, Vernon," she said.

 
“Yes,” Sirius plunged his fist in the air triumphantly and looked as though Christmas couldn’t have come sooner. He was, however, stopped by Lily’s sudden warning gaze.

 

"Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

 

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

 
Sirius’s face dropped. “I meant the Dursley’s not some nice lady who looks after Harry,”

 

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

 
“Maybe now that Mrs Figg can’t look after Harry he will be able to go with them for once,” James said in sudden enthusiasm. “Plus Dudley would hate it, something to keep that smug look of his fat face.”

 

“James,”

 

“What? He is fat- Harry said it himself. ‘Pig in a wig,’”

 

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

 
“Oh I hate those types of people,” Alice said with a groan. “Don’t get me wrong I adore cats but my next door nabours takes it to the extreme she has ten cats and mum makes me visit, it smells of cats wee all the bloody time,” She embraced her pillow tightly and made a face of disgust as if recalling a particularly bad memory. 

 

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

 
“Just let him come with you,” Peter shouted from the corner. “He deserves at least some happiness,”

 

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, My Paws and Tufty again.

 

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

 

"Don't be silly Vernon, she hates the boy."

 
“Oh yeah and you don’t,” Remus interrupted Lily again, staring at the book in absolute disbelief. In fact the entire inhabitants of the room were staring at the book as if it were alive, shouting at it as if what they said would change what was written on the page.

 

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.

 

“Sounds like Petunia to me,” Lily mumbled shortly under her breathe so that no one but James heard her.

 

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

 

"On holiday in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

 

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

 
“Should not have said that,” Sirius shook his head in dismay. “Should not have said that because now she will never let him get his own way.”

 

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

 
“Told you,”

 

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

 
“What do you think he’s going to do,” James said furiously. “Set the house a light- he’s an eleven year old boy!”

 

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

 

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

 
“I swear to you Petunia, you leave my son in that car and I will haunt you!” Everyone looked at Lily in shock. It was her after all who had said it was a fictional book but there she was getting more into it than anybody else in the room.

 

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone ..." Dudley began to cry loudly.

 
“Never mind the car being new,” Remus spat. “It’s child abuse to leave a child in a car alone for a long time,” He continued. “There have been deaths where children have been so dehydrated in locked cars.”

 

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.

 

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

 

"I ... don't ... want ... him ... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.
“What a spoilt little BRAT!” Lily said alarmed. “I can’t believe Petunia would let him get like that. She used to be so strong and independent.” 

 
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.

 

“That’s bad,” James’s expression became very serious.

 
“You want to hurt someone you have to make sure they have the same weapon as you in hand,” Sirius continued. “First Marauder rule of fighting- if you have a wand they have to have a wand- you use your fists, fists have to be handy by you opponent as well- anything less is bullying,” Lily had to stop her eyes from rolling. She doubted that two against one in a fight was Snape was fair.

 

“Snape is an exception,” James said as though reading her thoughts. “He looks for trouble, he gives as good as he gets don’t you worry about that.”

 

Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

 

“Typical,” Alice laughed bitterly.

 

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.

 
“If he thinks that’s luck then he can’t have had much luck,” Sirius commented, moving out of his chair and closer to Lily and James.

 

His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.

 

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

 

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

 

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry

 
“Because he’s a wizard,” James said happily, he was now so close to Lily that he could feel her body heat, this however was unnoticed by Lily much to James’s liking.

 

And it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.

 

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barber's looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his fringe, which she left 'to hide that horrible scar'.

 
“There’s nothing wrong with a scar,” Lily shouted incredulously, stopping to express her anger.

 

Dudley 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 his Sellotaped glasses.

 
Lily stopped dead, and the rest didn’t notice. She new what it was like to be laughed at, at a muggle school and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. She was laughed at because everyone thought she was strange. Things would always happen around her. She was nick-named Forever-cursed-Evans for her entire muggle education.

 

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

 
“Way to go, Harry,” Sirius beamed, by this time Remus, Peter and Alice were gathered around the sofa where James and Lily Sat, listening to Lily read intently.

 

“That’s my son,” James said proudly a smile spread across his lips that read nothing but fatherly affection.

 

“Your fictional son,” Lily reminded though her smile was even wider than his at this point.

 

“No,” James protested. “Our son,”

 

“Fictional son,”

 

Real son,” James corrected. “Far too many coincidences to be fictional,” But Lily gave him a stern look. “Fine, fictional son it is then,”    

 

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.

 

“I’m telling you this is child neglect; they should have been reported to social services years ago,”

 

“Social…what?”

 “It’s an organisation who make sure all families treat their children appropriately and in the right living conditions, they take the child away if they think they’re in danger,” Remus explained, fiddling with his hands, like he always did when he was explaining something muggle to the others.   

 

 Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old jumper of Dudley's (brown with orange bobbles). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a glove puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry.

 

“You can tell already that he’s going to be an exceptional wizard.” Alice piped up, she was no longer lying on her stomach but sitting comfortably by the rest of them, legs crossed, and head resting in her hands. “I never did anything like that, in fact for a few years my parents worried that I wasn’t magic at all.

 

“I remember doing something similar but all my magic was at school an only occasionally,” Lily added, before turning back to the book to carry on reading. 

 

Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished. On the other hand, he'd got into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney.

 
The marauders laughed.

 

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

 
“Well no ones going to believe that,” Lily said. “But I bet Vernon knows he’s a wizard and Petunia this is just not justified.”

 

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

 

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

 

This morning, it was motorbikes. "... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorbike overtook them.

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

 
“Bad idea,” Sirius muttered worriedly.

 

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beetroot with a moustache, "MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!" Dudley and Piers snickered.

 
“See,”

 

"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 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 in a cartoon - they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

 

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with people. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice-creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice lolly. It wasn't bad either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head and looking remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond. Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favourite hobby of hitting him.

They ate in the zoo restaurant and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbockers glory wasn't big enough, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.

 
“I can not believe this,” Lily was simply shocked. She rubbed her eyes and read the sentence again in her head. “I can not believe that Dudley get’s a new ice cream and Harry get’s his old one and is happy. It’s actually made his day getting an already half eaten ice cream while that fat lump of a boy gets another one!” 

 

Harry felt, afterwards, that he should have known it was all too good to last. After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in here, 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 dustbin - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

 

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

 

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

 

"Do it again," Dudley ordered.

 

Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

 

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

 
“Go back home then,” James huffed at the book.

 

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 people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard for 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.

 
“Bless him,” Alice said sadly. “He’s so miserable that he’s comparing his life to a Snake in a zoo,”

 

“I’m not so sure I want to read this anymore,” Lily said suddenly.

 

“What, Why?” James got up so suddenly, as if she had committed a murder of sorts.

 

“I’m not sure I want to read what happens next that’s all- we should just figure out who wrote this book and give them a piece of our minds.

 

“Or we could carry on reading the book,” Sirius added hopefully.

 

“Until a few minutes ago you thought it was boring,” Lily turned back to James, who looked absolutely livid.

 

“Let’s at least read until the end of the chapter,” James tried.

 

“The deal was one and we’ve read one and a half,”

 

“Please, it’s nearly finished now- I’d be stupid to stop in the middle,” Alice was the one to speak this time, she looked at Lily carefully. She usually agreed with Lily but the look in Alice’s eyes told her that she was going to have do as everyone said.

 

“Fine,” Lily grunted. There was a murmur of triumph around the room but then Lily added. “But only until the end of the chapter and then we’re leaving.”

 

“That’s all I ask,” James said sitting back down grinning horribly to himself. 

 

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

It winked.


 “Scary, I hate snakes,” Peter muttered quietly.

 

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 towards Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

 

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

 

The snake nodded vigorously.

 
“Is he- is he a Pastlemouth?” Remus questioned slowly. “He’s talking to the snake.”

 

“Only ancient Slytherin decadence speak Pastlemouth- Voldemort himself is one,” James replied, shrugging the thought away with a mere shake of his head.   


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


 

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

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.


 “See,” Remus laughed. “I told you- He’s talking to the Snake and the Snake understands him,”

 

“My son can speak to snakes!” James looked outraged. “Ok, whose sick idea was it to write this- my bets on Snivellus.”

 

“Just because he’s a Pastlemouth doesn’t mean he’s evil- it might have something to do with the scar- they say that curse scars can have side effects.” Remus said matter-of-factly.

 

“I guess you’re right- I suppose it would be fine if my son could speak to snakes.”


"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 towards them as fast as he could. "Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs.

 

Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor.

 
“Oh Merlin,”

 

What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror. Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished.

 

“Oh dear, oh dear, this can’t be good,” Alice whispered.

 

The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out on to the floor - people throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits. As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, " Brazil, here I come ... Thanksss, amigo." The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

 

“That confirms that he’s a Pastlemouth,” James said in a disappointed voice. “Oh well, you can’t have it all- let’s just hope he can play Quidditch.”

 

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

 

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

 

But, worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"

 

“I’m really starting to dislike this boy- helping Dudley beat people up is one thing- but ratting someone out- that’s just plain disrespect,” Sirius folded his arms as though he was a little boy not getting his own way.

 

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.

 

“What a lazy, lousy excuse for a man,” Lily yelled. “You know what Potter,” She turned to James and looked at him straight in the eye. “I take back what I’ve been saying all these years- you aren’t the last person on this earth I will ever go out with- he is,” As she looked back at the book, he grinned.

 

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 in 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.

 
Lily felt a lump forming in her throat, the thought of her son or anybodies son being treat so unfairly was enough to make anybody sympathise.

 

Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead.

 

This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where the green light came from.

 

He couldn't remember his parents at all.

 
“That’s terrible,” Alice said glumly. “He can’t remember his parent and he thinks they died in a car crash- no one should have to go through that.

 

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.

 
Lily now had to stop herself from crying. This boy was so alone so miserable; she’d give anything to change what had happened.

 

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

 

Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too.

 

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

 

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

 
“That’s the end of the chapter,” Lily didn’t look up she was too busy caught in her own web of thoughts. She had been sure this was a fictional story and yet it had her family down to every last detail. Petunia sounded like Petunia and Vernon sounded like Vernon-

Everything was pictured exactly, as if it had come from Lily’s brain. No one knew that much about her. “I don’t like this- I don’t like this at all,” Lily said with conviction shoving the book into Alice’s hands as though it was about to blow up in her hands. She backed away from it as if she was scared.

 

“It’s just a book,” James said in bewilderment.

 

“Just a book, just a book,” Lily was furious now, you could se it in her face, in her eyes. Her hair looked wild, and the effects of the spell seemed to be wearing of as her hair started to return to its ordinary colour. “A book that scares be- a book that knows every aspect of my life. Who knows my sister inside out? Her habits, action, and the things she does and says the way she looks. A book that knows exactly what her boyfriends like, his name his looks his obsession with everything normal and his hate for everything different. A book that knows that Harry is in fact my favourite name. The name I hand picked myself to name my son if or when I had one. It’s as though someone has taken my life made things up about the future and put it onto paper.”   

 

“What are you saying? That someone knows you really well and has written it?” Alice quizzed, confused by her best friends sudden outburst.

 

“I’m saying that nobody knows this much about me not even Sev- and he’s lived opposite me all his life. Not even you, Potter, know that much and you’re my own personal stalker. Its little things like Vernon Dursley is going out with my sister Petunia- which no one except Alice knows, like the name Harry being my favourite name- which I have never told anyone.”

 

“So you’re saying you think this is real- that you and I do get married and this does happen,” James said this quietly, because not even he really thought it was a true story.

 

“I’m saying that unless someone can read minds, that its all too strange for my liking- that this being a true story- as much as it pains me to admit- might be a huge possibility.” Lily said finally, looking nothing less than confused and upset. Lily and James stared at each other for a very long time, trying to digest all of the information, it seemed impossible, yet vary possible at the same time.

 

“What’s the name of the next chapter?” Remus said solidly.

 

“Chapther three,”
Alice read. “The Letters from no one,”   




A/N: Please tell me exactly what you think- if you want me to continue writting- the bits you liked the bits you didn't like- what i can improve your favourite line.

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