Harry's Godfather Or A Deatheater?

Chapter 1

A/N

First things first, I don't need to put an info page just because, you've read the first book, haven't you?

If not check it out.

Aunt Marge the Balloon.

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Harry's P.O.V.

"Harry. Harry. Harry, open the door." Aunt Marge said, ringing the doorbell thousands of times. I opened the door, it was raining outside, and Aunt Marge stumbled in handing me the umbrella on her way to the couch. Her demon dog following her. 

While Aunt Petunia was in the other room being scared by Marge's demon dog, I was still at the door. I took out the permission form for Hogsmeade. I was behind Uncle Vernon, hoping, oh hoping so badly, that he would sign the form.

But Of course, that wouldn't have happened, would it?

Unrolling it from its state, I said to Uncle Vernon, "Uncle Vernon, I need you to sign this form." I said. "What is it?" He asked, grumpily. "Nothing. School Stuff." I said.

"Later, perhaps. If you behave."

Nope. Not going to sign it. "I will, if she does." I said, walking into the living room with Uncle Vernon. "Oh, you're still here, are you?" Aunt Marge said, noticing me.

Ignoring the rude comment, I said, "Yes."

"Don't say 'yes' in that ungrateful way. Damn good of my brother to keep ya. He'd have been straight to an orphanage if he'd been dumped on my doorstep, Vernon." The last sentence given as almost whisper to Uncle Vernon. Aunt Marge made sure I heard that.

Turning to Dudley, with a sweet voice, she said, "Is that my Dudders? Is that my little neffy-pooh?" She hugged him from behind the couch. 

"Give us a kiss. Come on, up, up, up." She said, banging on the couch.

"Take Marge's suitcase upstairs." Uncle Vernon commanded. "Okay." I said, taking her luggage upstairs.

I'm a burden to everybody in the house. I can't wait to go to Hogwarts with Ron, Hermione, and Tess.

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~Dinner~

I was collecting the plates, while Aunt Marge gave her demon dog her leftovers. I mean sauce, not leftovers. Just sauce.

"Can I tempt you, Marge?" Uncle Vernon said, holding brandy, I think, in his hands with two wine glasses. "Just a small one." Then she turned to Aunt Petunia. "Excellent nosh, Petunia."

Aunt Marge snapped her fingers at me then pointed down beside her. To her demon dog.

I took the Demon Dog's plate. While I did that, Aunt Marge said, "Usually just a fry-up for me, what with 12 dogs."

And who's taking care of those 11 other dogs?

I walked back to the sink, 3 plates in my hand, I put them in the sink. "You want to try a little drop brandy? A little drop of brandy-brandy windy-wandy for Rippy-pippy-pooh?" Aunt Marge said, while her demon dog drank her brandy. That's disgusting.

I stopped my cleaning of the plates to look at her. How she treats her demon dog.

She looked up at me, and asked, "What are you smirking at?" I shrugged. At a fat lady feeding her demon dog an alcoholic drink.