Chapter 1 - The Worst Birthdays

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by HavanaLPotter123

by HavanaLPotter123

Chapter 1 - The Worst Birthdays

ELEVEN YEARS LATER:

The Dursley's Place :

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.

"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"

Harry tried, yet again, to explain.

"She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night -"

"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out."

He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.

Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley.

"I want more bacon."

"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance... I don't like the sound of that school food..."

"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"

Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry.

"Pass the frying pan."

"You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably.

The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.

"I meant 'please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean —"

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"

"But I —"

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.

"I just —"

"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"

Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.

"All right," said Harry, "all right..."

Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry

closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.

Meanwhile another type of family chaos was going on in Malfoy Manor.

Celestiana Narcissa Malfoy reckoned that wherever she went ruckus followed. Mr. Avery who was part of her family life since she was four was trying ( and failing miserably) to enter her mind. Fortunately Celeste was a skilled Occlumens so she could block him from entering her thoughts. Draco, her brother shot her a pitying look. If you must know one thing about the youngest Malfoy and Potter she hated pity. She growled and Draco closed his mouth instinctively. Stacey, as she was called, was a proud blood traitor and was especially proud of her reputation. Whenever she was trapped or feeling nauseas the sea called to her. If Stacey had a choice about what she was called, most preferably she would be called Adira. Let's go back to that day shall we?

Stacey raised her eyebrows and gave him the Black Deluxe, it was a Black family trait. Even all of the blood traitors and half Blacks had it ; all except Draco and her sweetie of a cousin - Nyphandora Tonks. Mr. Avery arched back looking scared. Mr. Avery must have known the consequences of an angry part Black. Considering that his wife was Polaris Avery (nee Black) he had experience. "I'm going out", Stacey called as she let her blue blond hair descend down her shoulders. " All right Mistress Celestiana ", called Dobby the house elf. '' Dobby don't punish yourself while I'm gone", Stacey yelled. " I will try mistress", Dobby responded.