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The Boy-Who-Hissed

By Saryana

Fantasy / Adventure

Chapter 1

Harry was not an ordinary boy. Not that one would expect different from him. He was raised not by his parents but from his aunt and uncle, who disliked the boy greatly and never treated him right. His own nephew loved to use the poor boy as a punching bag, often bulling Harry and insulting him. Quickly he learned to keep his distance from them and instead spent his time in his cupboard, which plays the role of his room, and read. He grew not to trust other people, for he guessed that most people were the same as his relatives. When he began school, he kept his distance from the others and was quickly categorized as 'weird'.

Soon enough his nephew, Dudley, had gathered himself a group of idiots like himself. He was obviously the leader, being, in Harry's eyes, the most 'ugly, huge and stupid of them all'. Quickly the favourite target became Harry. Sometimes they overdid it, other times they were light. One day when they humiliated Harry in front of the whole school and the boy had to come back in bruises. That night, Harry really wished something bad to happen to them - to all of them. Just the next day after lunch, almost everyone had became sick from the lunch food. Everyone but poor Harry, who wasn't given money for lunch, who wasn't allowed to bring his own box. And the group that was the most infected? Dudley's. Though at first most thought of it as a coincidence, they all thought against it when Harry was in some way humiliated again. Again something bad will happen to the doer. Soon everyone became afraid from the boy and kept his distance. When he walked down the corridors, he was declared a 'freak'.

But Harry did not care. In fact, he preferred it that way. He preferred to be away from everyone for he couldn't trust someone enough yet. And he didn't know what should happen to him so he could. He knew that he would never fit in with the others. He knew that he was different. And he doubted that he would one day find a place in which he will might as well fit in. And turning teachers hair blue, making the whole school sick or setting free a talking snake from a zoo on his cousin certainly didn't make him normal.

Harry woke up to a hard knocking on his door. With a groan he stands up just when he hears a familiar female voice start yelling to him:

"Harry Potter, you get up right now!" she said and continued to knock on the door.

"I'm coming..." Harry mumbled half asleep and dressed himself in a pair of huge baggy jeans and an orange shirt on top of it. Both were his cousins old clothes as the Dursleys didn't want to buy Harry any other clothes. Even for the school he had been accepted for. Instead of buying him a uniform, they died some clothes in grey. They are now some strange lump.

He exited his cupboard to find the rest of them waiting.

"Make the breakfes', boy!" Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle, barked at him before returning to the newspaper he had been reading. Harry walked pass his cousin (who was certainly watching on of his many shows on the television) and began to make breakfast. Eggs and beacon. For four... At least he was hardly allowed two eggs. Less eggs to break, less time to waste.

After giving them the breakfast, he began to sit down but he was quickly stopped by a ticking noise coming out from his uncle's mouth.

"Tsk, tsk... You will first go and check the mail, boy!"

With a sigh, he stood up from his half sitter position and walked outside to the mailbox. Opening it, he quickly examined the letters. Taxes, a postcard, taxes, a letter addressed to Harry, more taxes... Wait! A letter to him? He looked at it again. Was this some kind of joke? Perhaps a good summer joke from his co students... But how would they know he slept under a cupboard? The letter did say that... What was Hogwarts anyways? He turned around to see a bright red stamp. He opened the letter and began to read:


Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

He frowned. A wizard? That was impossible... But how-

"Boy, what are you doing there? Are you checking for bombs?" He laughed at his own joke. Harry took the letter and walked inside. They knew! Harry was sure of it! They knew and had lied to him all along! But why? Oh, that was obvious, they hated anything out of the extraordinary. Maybe they hated Harry because of that? Or the other way around - the hated magic because of Harry. But they also disliked his parents. So they were wizards as well? But a wizard wouldn't just die from a car crash... They could easily just fly away or teleport. Had they lied about that too?

"Took you long enough, bo..."Vernon began but was quickly interrupted by Harry.

"Explain this!" He said as he threw the letter on the table, not hiding his anger. His uncle began to read the letter, his face turning from pink to red to green as it turned into a colourful rainbow of a face. At the end of this he said.

"You are not going to that school, boy!"

"You won't stop me!" Harry yelled, angry.

"Watch me! It says you have to send a letter by owl. You won't managed it, boy!"

Harry opened his mouth to protest but couldn't do it, knowing that his uncle was right. He couldn't send an owl to this school. He didn't even know how! But at least he knew one thing - he was right in thinking that they knew about them being wizards. His uncle smirked.

"Go to your room, boy. You're grounded! No food!"

Harry turned around and went into his room. The food problem didn't bother him. He managed sometimes to smuggle some foods like chips to eat while in his cupboard. He often was grounded to stay in his room and that was the best way he didn't starve to death. And if somehow the Extinction Date of the food come near, he could have the whole bag. Just as long as he cleaned afterwards, he was alright (the spiders did help). Harry took out a book, a bag of chips and began to read and eat.

A month had gone by from when Harry had gotten his letter. Well, the first one anyways. As the days went by, so did the letters come. Though at first the mail box was only stuffed with letters, later on they weren't the only thing stuffed. After a while, the whole door had been in envelopes. St that jolly note, Vernon had locked the whole family out, as he put wood over the door cracks and all windows but one. Though he was satisfied, he had forgotten that he was dealing with wizards, not normal humans. Just the next day he had gotten a dozen of eggs. Or that was what he thought. Instead of egg yolk, though, in each shell had one folded up envelop. Let's just say that Dudley was rather unhappy for his lack of a full breakfast.

The thing that got Uncle Vernon out of his skin, however, was when he had a chimney accident. By that time Harry wasn't grounded. In fact, for some reason, he had been moved into Dudley's second room, where he kept all his old toys. ("Why does he have to stay in my room?") One morning, now with normal eggs and not envelope eggs, the chimney decided instead of fire to spit out a load of letters. As soon as they went in the open room, they began to fly around. Harry almost spit out the juice he was drinking from trying to suppress his laughter. On the other hand, Vernon was trying hard not to yell from anger, his face turning into a bright, almost tomato like red. Petunia was looking disgusted and horrified at how such ugly letters could ruin her perfectly clean room and Harry's cousin was up on his chair, a look of horror on his face, flinching any time a letter would come near him.

"That's it!" Vernon yelled. "Everyone, grab your stuff, we are going out of here!"

Quickly everyone went to pack their baggage. Harry was quick - he hardly had anything to pack, after all. Now, it was Dudley who took up the time to pack. After unsuccessfully trying to pack the television in the car, they went of with a rather unhappy Dudley, complaining about all the TV shows he will be missing. If it wasn't for them, Harry doubted he would even know what a clock is.

The travel was long. Vernon kept making random turns, each more sudden from the last one. He would go right and after a while he would make a u-turn and go left afterwards. Every time that happened, he would mutter. "Erase the trace, erase the trace..." Overall they travelled in silence, besides Dudley, who kept complaining not only about his shows but also about how hungry he was, yet he still had a bag of crisps with him.

When it was too late for them to continue to travel, Vernon turned to the first hotel they could find and took a room for one night. Happily for Dudley, it had a TV and he spent the night watching what was left from his shows and gladly munching on a pizza they had bought him.

The next morning they almost immediately went off. At the reception, however, they were stopped.

"Is anyone of you called Mr. Harry Potter?"

"I, sir."

"You have, er, a few letters," He said and showed him a whole load of letters, at least 30, maybe even 40. Harry just opened his mouth to say something when Vernon bumped in.

"Use 'em for fire wood! He doesn't need them," and with that he grabbed Harry and led him towards the car.

The drive was the same after the one the day before. Vernon was turning left and right, just today he was doing it even more often. Dudley was complaining. Petunia was looking bored pit of the window. Harry was hoping the wizard school would stop sending letters and actually do something. And he suddenly remembered that the next day was his birthday.

Harry didn't hate his birthday but didn't like it either. His birthday presents were awful - a coat hanger, some sock. In other words - trash. On the other hand he could just stay in his room and not be bothered. Yet that is what he did every day. Harry wasn't looking up for his birthday. He just knew he wouldn't get anything and it would possible top his 'Worst birthday' chart. He wasn't even sure they actually remembered that he had one. Oh well, you don't turn 11 every year. Maybe he could turn out lucky?

Late in the evening Vernon stopped them at a lake. In the distance there was some small island. Harry's uncle went in one direction and left the rest of them waiting for what he would do. After a while he came back, holding a yellow envelope and a huge grin. He didn't say anything, only mentioning for them to follow him. They went to a small boat and everyone went inside. Soon they travelled to the island. On top of it was situated an old cabin, it seemed as if it will break down. And considering the storm brewing outside, it wasn't a clever choice. But Uncle Vernon was glad.

"They won't find us here! And even if they did, they couldn't want to come here, not in this weather!"

Afterwards they situated themselves inside the cabin. They ate some crisps and later tried to make a fire out of the bag, unsuccessfully. Now was a good time to have that pile of letters...

Soon hey called it a night and simply went to sleep. Harry's uncle and aunt went on to the bed and the two kids were left to sleep on the floor, counting on a grumpy Dudley. The lights were put out and the snores from two male family members could be heard clearly.

But the third one couldn't sleep. No, he wanted to meet his birthday. Dudley's glow in the dark clock was pointed towards Harry and he could clearly see the time. Though it grew even more and more late, the boy couldn't sleep. No, he grew more exited. He watched each minute fly by, going closer and closer to midnight. To a new day. To the 31st of July. To Harry's birthday.

12:00 marked the clock. Harry was almost startled by a knock on the door. Seconds later that same door had been opened harshly. I wish I could say that there was a scary looking guy wit a larger height from most people and an untamed hair, along with an equally untamed beard. But no, there was a middle aged man who had something which looked like a turban on his head. He wore robes to the ground.

"Canons!" blurted out Dudley stupidly as soon as the door had hit the wall hardly. Harry resisted face palming to his cousin.

"I-I'm hop - hoping that is - isn't Har-Harry P - Potter," the man at the door said.

"Ugh, no. I am Harry Potter."

The man looked relived

"Ah, g - good. Well, I - I ha - have a mess - message for yo - you. You a - are a wiz - wizard."

Harry just smiled at the man and shrugged.

"I know."

Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Saryana
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