About this story:

-First couple of chapters will have a lot directly from the book. That will change starting with chapter 3

- All credit for characters and parts of the plat line to J.K. Rowling

-Special thanks to my younger brother for helping me edit, proofread and format my story

- I apologise English is not my first language and I often have trouble writing

Prologue:

It all started the day that a certain pair of twins were born to a happy family. A red haired girl and a raven haired boy both with bright green eyes. The potters were one of the happiest families. They often visited a different wizarding family, the Weasly who also had twins, two red haired identical boys with many older brothers. That was until one and a half years after the twins birth on the Halloween night, both parents were killed and the twins left with identical lightning bolt shaped scares. That night the twins were left at their aunts and uncles doorstep by a wizard named Dumbledore.

Chapter one: Disaster Day

"Boy! Girl! Up! Get up! Now!" Hermione woke with a start. She saw her brother wake up beside her. Her aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Hermione heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. They rolled of the matt they were sleeping on and tried to remember the dream they had been having. They shared dreams very often. This had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. They both had a funny feeling that they had the same dream before. Their aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," they answered together, that was also what they did very often (speaking at the same time).

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." They groaned. "What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..." Dudley's birthday - how could they have forgotten? Hermione got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. She found a pair under their bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. She and her brother were both used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where they slept. When they were dressed they went down the hall into the kitchen.

The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted and the racing bike. Why would Dudley want a racing bike was a mystery to Hermione, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course, it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bags were Harry and Hermione, but he couldn't often catch them. They both didn't look like it, but they were very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry and Hermione had always been small and skinny for their age. They looked even smaller and skinnier than they really were because all they had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry was thin and short, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. Hermione was also very thin and short, she had bright red long heir and bright green eyes. The thing they both shared except for their eyes was the identical lightning shaped scar on their foreheads. They had had it as long as they could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking their Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions." 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 and Hermione was frying the eggs. "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 and Hermione needed a haircut. Hermione was almost done 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 much 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. 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 Dudley 36 is so little…I wish I got at least 1 present for every birthday in my life "harry and Hermione said together their voices full of sarcasm.

"I wish I was also fat…mean … not caring child that would stuff their face… with no manners". Hermione looked at Harry, and began wolfing down their bacon as fast as possible in case their uncle decided to leave them without food. Aunt Petunia screamed at them, and uncle Vernon yelled

"no food for two days for you" he said as he grabbed for harry and Hermione. "And Dudley 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 phone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Hermione watched Dudley unwrap his presents, they were sad that they never got anything but they were used to it. They were already planning how they could prank Dudley with all his new things, they both loved pranking and reading. Their love for reading meant that they were top of their class, Hermione always one point higher than harry but he didn't care they were too close to fight because of it. Dudley 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 Harry's and Hermione's direction. Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Hermione's 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, her and Harry were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. They hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

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

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested. "Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy and girl." The Dursleys often spoke about Harry and Hermione 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.

"You could just leave us here," Harry put in hopefully (Hermione could already see all the pranking they could get done). Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

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

"we won't blow up the house," said Harry "yeah just prank it unrecognizable" whispered Hermione in his year.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave him in the car..." "That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone..." Dudley began to cry loudly.

"I'm warning you," uncle Vernon had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's and Hermione's, "I'm warning you now, boy, girl - 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 "me neither" Hermione added "honestly..." But Uncle Vernon didn't believe them.

No one ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around her and Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen. One time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force them into a two similar revolting old sweaters of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls and green with red puff balls) - The harder she tried to pull it over their heads, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry or Hermione. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to their great relief, they weren't punished

. On the other hand, they'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing them as usual when, as much to their surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Their headmistress and all they'd tried to do was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. Uncle Vernon liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, Hermione, the council, Harry, Hermione, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Hermione, remembering suddenly.

"It was flying." Harry added. 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 beet with a mustache:

"MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!" Dudley and Piers sniggered.

"I know they don't," said Hermione. "It was only a dream." But they both wished they hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even 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 a cartoon - they seemed to think they might get dangerous ideas. (Which was true they got a lot of pranking ideas from their dreams, just most of them were impossible.)

After lunch they went to the reptile house. 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. They soon found the largest snake, but it ignored the Dursleys. 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.

Harry and Hermione moved in front of the tank at the same time and looked intently at the snake. She wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as 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. The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with theirs. It winked. The twins stared. Then they looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. No one was. They looked back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling.

"It must be really annoying." The snake nodded vigorously.

"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.

"Was it nice there?" asked Hermione. The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Hermione 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 them 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 toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you two," he said, punching Harry in the ribs and pushing Hermione to the floor. Caught by surprise, Harry also fell hard on the concrete floor. They looked at each other hoping that the glass vanished. 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. Hermione sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits. As the snake slid swiftly past him, the twins could have sworn a low, hissing voice said,

"Brazil, here I come... Thanksss, friendsss." The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"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 and Hermione were talking to it, weren't you, guys?" 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. They lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing they 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, they couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food. The twins lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as they could remember, ever since they were babies and their parents had died in that car crash.

Both of them couldn't remember being in the car when their parents had died. Sometimes, when one of them strained his/her memory during long hours in their shared cupboard, they came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on their foreheads. This, they supposed, was the crash, though the twins couldn't imagine where all the green light came from.

They couldn't remember their parents at all. 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. When he had been younger, Harry and Hermione had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relative coming to take them away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. They liked to try and picture their relatives. For example if any of their relatives had the green eyes or red hair or maybe black hair.