the parselmouth

All rights to j.k

This is a book about Harry potters sister Echo potter same hair color and eye color and scar

Chapter one

GET UP NOW Aunt Petunia yelled banging on mine and Harrys "bedroom" door

"Are you up yet." she demanded.

"Nearly," I said.

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

"What did you say." our aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..." Dudley's birthday -- how could we have forgotten. 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, put them on. Harry and i were used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where we slept.

When he closed the door I got dressed as well and ran after him and started setting or try to set the table

I put the plates and cups down and grabbed a plate for the bacon and handed it to Harry

"I can't believe it is that a bike?" I whispered to Harry and I took the plate and served everyone

He chuckled lightly and made his way to the table

Dudley came down with his father and Harry and I could see the tantrum beginning

"the both of you comb you hair" our uncle barked at us I just ran my fingers through my waste lathe black hair and Harry just looked at him

Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year." "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's

here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy." "All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in

the face.

Harry began to wolf his food down incase Dudley would flip the table I joined Harry in wolfing it down

Our aunt looked nervous and blurted out And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin. Two more presents. Is that all right''

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..." "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.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while me,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 them." She jerked her head in our direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but my 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 and i are left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. We hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made us look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what." said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at us as though we'd planned this. I knew we ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when we reminded ourselfs it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.