TWO

By rcr50341

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to the ethereal being known as J.K. Rowling. You can kneel at her altar… but leave the reviews for me.

Summary: Harry is accepted into Hogwarts. Now, that is the same. But this time he goes there with someone special… his cousin, Dudley Dursley. Does the song remain the same? Read more to find out.

CHAPTER ONE

Harry opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling of his cupboard. He thought he could hear the scratch-scratch of spiders some where by the corner of his make-shift room.

"Harry Potter! Up! Get up!"

Harry rolled his eyes. It was the dulcet sounds of his Aunt Petunia.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," answered Harry dully.

Harry stretched, yawned and shuffled around the small cupboard. He changed from his pajamas into his over-sized hand-me-downs. Then, he left for the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia already started breakfast. She was making bacon, rashers and fried tomato. That tub of lard gets a Full English Breakfast every morning… and I get—

"Here," said Aunt Petunia. She shoved a plate into Harry's hands.

Harry glanced down at it. It was nothing more than a fried tomato and a bit of toast.

Harry rolled his eyes for the second time that morning.

"Cheers," he said.

Aunt Petunia sniffed and turned away.

Harry sat down at the breakfast table to eat his meager breakfast.

Minutes later, his Uncle Vernon and his cousin, Dudley, made their way to the breakfast table. The two ate with gusto.

His Aunt Petunia sat down seconds later. She ate nothing more than a half-of-a-grapefruit like usual.

Harry munched on his toast slowly. Somewhere in the background Harry heard the sound of the mail slot opening and closing.

"The mail's here," said Dudley with his mouth filled with bacon.

"Go get it," said Uncle Vernon.

"Tell Harry to do it," whined Dudley.

"Boy, get the mail," ordered Uncle Vernon.

Harry sighed. However, he got up and did as he was told.

There were a few letters by the mail slot. Harry picked them up.

He was about to leave with the letters when an odd sound made him pause.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Harry frowned. He decided to investigate. He cautiously opened the door.

There was a burst of feathers.

Harry watched as two brown owls flew into the house and darted straight into the kitchen.

"Damn," said Harry to himself. "I have no idea what this is about—but I do know I'll be blamed for it."

Harry made his way into the kitchen.

"Owls! Owls! You drat-of-a-boy! What did you do?" yelled his Uncle Vernon.

"Nothing," said Harry shortly. He was busy examining the birds.

Dudley was trying to shoo the birds away from his breakfast. His Uncle Vernon covered his head with his hands.

The two owls circled each other.

"Get them out of here!" shrieked Aunt Petunia. She crouched down low beside her chair.

"You! Boy! Do something!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said.

Harry thought for a moment. Then, he decided to try something… unusual. "Oy! You two! Stop twittering about! We're trying to eat breakfast."

In a surprise turn of the events, the owls did as they were told. One flew toward Harry and perched on the backside of his chair. It stuck out its foot.

It hooted.

"Er—did you want something?" said Harry.

The owl nodded. No—it seemed to nod. Nevertheless, the movement caused Harry to notice something about the bird. There was a small cylinder tied to the owl's foot with a thin piece of twine.

Oh, well. In for-a-penny, in for-a-pound, thought Harry.

Harry undid the string that was tied around the owl's foot. He un-scrowled a bit of thick and yellow paper.

Harry glanced at the top of the page. It read—

To Mr. Harry Potter

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging,

Surrey

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you are accepted at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

Harry scanned the letter. After he finished, he read it again. Finally, after a third perusal Harry glanced upward.

He looked from his Uncle Vernon to his Aunt Petunia.

"Well, it says here that I am a witch," said Harry deadpan.

"Wizard," corrected his Aunt Petunia.

"Right…" said Harry slowly. "A wizard. Do you know anything about this?"

His Aunt Petunia turned the color of puce.

His Uncle Vernon roared. "You- you freak! That- that letter is nothing but rubbish! You're not a wizard. You're nothing but a burden on our shoulders!"

Harry frowned. "Well, I am your charge. I'm nearly as happy about that as you are," said Harry. "But my question still stands. Am I a wizard? You know… like a wizard who can turn you into a tea-cozy, or your son into the actual pig that he is?"

"Like I said—" continued his Uncle Vernon.

"You? A wizard?" interrupted his Aunt Petunia. "Nothing could surprise me any less. You're just like your mother and that blasted husband of hers. You're nothing but a freak who does unnatural things like keep frog-spawn in your pockets while you turn tea-cups into rats! You? A wizard! Well, of course!"

"Naturally," said Harry with an eye-roll.

"If H- Harry's a freak am I a freak, too?" said a whining, nasal voice.

Aunt Petunia's mouth dropped opened.

Uncle Vernon sat down in his seat with a loud thump on the cushion.

Dudley sat in his chair across from Uncle Vernon. He had a thick, yellow paper in his hand, too.

"Well, look at that," said Harry. "Now that was unexpected."