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SE Book I: The Philosopher's Stone by Marcus Cicero
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SE Book I: The Philosopher's Stone

Marcus Cicero

Chapter Three

Their Seventh Birthday

Sixty-nine months had past since the opening of our story and the Dursley household seemed to carry on in regular fashion. Elegant pictures lined several areas of the house; some of them containing the still elegant yet scornful appearance of Mrs. Dursley, some containing the even more round and well-dressed Mr. Dursley, and even more so than the previous two, containing pictures of the steadily increasing in size Dudley Dursley. Furniture matched perfectly in every room, and the vibrant colors of the house made it seem even more unhuman. Everything in its place, not a speck of dust could be found -- perfectly normal -- and that was just the way Mr. and Mrs. Dursley liked it, and would certainly boast they had a perfectly normal family.

But that was a lie.

For in the tiniest of rooms -- not even a bedroom at that -- laid two children who were fast asleep; the boy who had messy jet-black hair and a handsome face had a protective arm wrapped around his sister, who had shiny and well-kept jet-black hair and was a very pretty little girl. They slept on the tiniest of beds with the lightest of covers and a single pillow in which both their heads were comfortably rested upon. Strange things seemed to follow these two, or perhaps happen to these two. The pillow they slept on was one of the many of those odd happenings for when they had received that very pillow when the hand-me-down pillow of Dudley Dursley had finally caused enough crick necks, it was nothing but uncomfortable. Yet somehow, after both of them spent the entire night dreaming and wishing with all their might that the pillow would somehow become better, they awoke to just that and more. They of course spoke nothing of it and decided that what Mrs. Dursley didn't know, would probably keep them from getting killed.

Their apperance for the conditions they faced at such an early age were remarkable; the boy, while still malnourished seemed healthy and his face was full of life and deterimination as was the girl's. She was closer to where she had to be for her age in weight but this was in large part due to her brother forcing her to take more food and she often wondered how he did it -- she often thought she heard her brother's voice in her head commanding her to do it, but she reasoned it was just her stomach since they both had ones that grumbled often enough.

The Dursleys were unaware of how cunning the two were; they never heard or saw signs of their midnight raids to the pantries of the kitchen and the fridgerator for scraps that would go unnoticed. The brave trips to the upstairs bathroom to get vitamins, lotions, and shampoos so that they could stay healthy, and look decent when they went to school were just as successful. The twins were quite the team, which was another odd thing in itself.

The two hardly fought, and where most siblings would rib or take the mickey out on each other, the two seemed to find love in each other -- an innocent family love for each other that made the harsh life of living with the Dursleys, a bit easier to suffer. They were very protective of one another whether it be in facing the Dursleys, the bullies at school who sided with Dudley in fear of facing his wrath should they try to befriend them, or the taunts and insults they received from Mr. and Mrs. Dursley about how worthless their parents were, which was about the only thing that would get them angry.

Perhaps the most odd, and certainly most saddest thing about these two was that they were relatives of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley -- nephew and niece in fact. Yet, if the Dursleys could, they would gladly remove them from the family, have them shipped to an orphanage, and wouldn't care what happened to them -- even if the children were devoured by lions. Which was the very reason that Erynn Lily Potter and Harry James Potter lived in the smallest room, the cupboard, and received little care if any at all. They were to be shunned, and the Dursleys often blamed them for everything. Whether it be a rainy day that had too much rain, or a box of cereal that didn't have the prize their Dudley wanted, it was Erynn and Harry's fault.

Though they occasionally did wish they would get mauled by lions or tigers, or perhaps get to live with any other family in England, they survived the turmoil and strife that was caused while living under the Dursley house and while it was a childhood no normal person would have or want, they were impressively stronger than most people; their courage, intelligence, cunning, politeness and overall determination to improve their lives at such a young age, was remarkable and would gain praise from most relatives or parental figures, but the Dursleys just scoffed at their good marks in school and good manners and stuck to the belief that they were nothing but good for nothing free-loaders and gave their love and praise to their Dudley, who received horrible marks and was a lazy and greedy boy who ate far too much than he need to and made demands of his parents to buy him things, which they were happy to do.

Unfortunatly though, things would get worse one day before their seventh birthday.

Erynn an Harry were still asleep. Their quiet and soft breathing was all that could be heard in the small cupboard. Erynn snuggled up closer to Harry, sighing in content, smiling as she dreamt about a flying motorcycle. Both of them were sleeping peacefully, but that wouldn't last for long. It was Aunt Petunia's shrill voice and loud knocking on the cupboard door that startled them out of their dreams.

"Up! Get up this instant!" screeched Aunt Petunia, "I want you in the kitchen in five minutes!" Her footsteps faded away as Harry and Erynn groaned and forced their eyes to open. They smiled at each other and both began getting out of bed, slowly. They dressed quickly (they had gotten used to seeing each other and thought nothing of it) and were about to leave when Harry got a strange sense of foreboding.

"Wait," Harry muttered.

"Wait what?" asked Erynn, who had released the door knob that she had nearly opened.

"There's... there's something wrong," he said, which earned him a puzzled look from his sister, "I don't know what it is, but go and get that watch you took from Dudley's room."

Not one to argue when her brother felt there was something amiss in the house, which would be odd to anyone save for the two, she walked to her side of the bed. Harry always had those moments where he felt something was going to happen that would not be good for the two, and she thought nothing of it since, for as long as she could remember, it had always been like this.

She kneeled down and began tugging at a floorboard that quickly left the floor. There, buried in the floor were an odd assortment of things; snacks, medicine, kits, books, school supplies, and several things they took from their cousin Dudley, which would go unnoticed by the over-sized seven year old since he had too much stuff to begin with. She reached down, shuffled through a few items and pulled out a watch that clearly read 5:03. Her eyes shot open at this new piece of information, and she looked back at Harry with worry.

"It's only five in the morning!" she whispered in an anxious voice. This wouldn't be odd for any other day save for Sunday, which it was. The Dursleys acted the part of a religious family, and would save working Erynn and Harry to death until they returned from ten o'clock mass, and always made them work inside the house incase neighbors caught wind that they made children work on the Sabbath. Harry's groggy eyes instantly shot open.

"Five in the morning!," he groaned again. He still had a strange feeling that told him something was still wrong but he pushed that thought away as Erynn spoke again.

"Maybe they want to start working us on Sundays too," she whispered again, curious as to what could change a Dursley routine, since the neat-freaks loved running things by their book to the very dot. They both look lost in thought for a few seconds more and they both concluded that it was very understandable that the Dursleys would love to give them more work as they grew up.

"Perhaps you're right..." he started, but his mind was not wholly convinced, "Perhaps its just more work. We'll be seven tomorrow so they probably decided it would be a great present to make us remodel the house or fix Dudley's meals for the rest of eternity," he finished with a grin, and Erynn giggled. She walked back to him by the door and nudged him.

"I don't think we're old enough to handle fixing meals around the clock for the killer-whale, Harry."

Ribbing and making fun of Dudley was routine and Harry and Erynn enjoyed it immensely, and it was about the only cruel act they took pride in. Dudley Dursley deserved every bit of it. They would always come up with jokes or insults about Dudley and were actually brave enough to say them to his face, but the boy never got them and that made Harry and Erynn laugh even more.

Harry smiled and was about to mention that it might be something more severe but never got the chance to since Aunt Petunia decided to beat on the door with even more fury as she used a very cold and shrill voice to get her message to the two inside.

"OUT THIS VERY MINUTE OR I'LL HAVE YOUR UNCLE BEAT THE DOOR DOWN."

Both Harry and Erynn shuddered for a split second, but quickly masked their fear and concern for what may happen to one another as they opened the door and came eye to eye with the piercing gaze of their Aunt, who looked racked with hate and loathing for the two children standing before her. "Kitchen. NOW." was all she said as she stormed towards that very place. The two followed her but kept their distance incase Aunt Petunia wanted to beat them to death.

Wonder what we did now, Harry thought, as another pang of feeling told him that he would not like what was to come but he instantly told that pang that he never did like anything that involved Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, or their pig-cousin Dudley and that it was nothing out of the normal. Aunt Petunia opened the door to the kitchen, and Harry caught site of what was probably causing the harshness Aunt Petunia was directing towards his sister and him: the kitchen was a complete mess.

It looked as if the fridge had exploded as Harry surveyed the room. The walls were covered in chocolate syrup, as was the stove and table. There was milk spilled all over the floor, and fruit juice poured on all the cloth and linens. Orange Juice still dripped from the curtains, and the cutting boards and floor were litered with various squished fruits and vegetables. Harry didn't see the furious face of his Uncle as he took in what was once a perfectly kept kitchen, one he had to clean just yesterday.

Erynn was not as blind to the death glares both she and her brother were receiving that would have killed an entire room full of people but she was used to it, living in their house though she had to admit that neither she nor Harry had received one that was filled with such loathing and hatred. His face was a very puce color and he kept clenching and unclenching his fists and he seemed ready to explode. And Harry still hasn't caught sight of him. How is that possible, he's certainly not a one-seat man or two for that matter, she thought, giggling madly inside her head at the crude humor she reserved for the Dursley family but she stopped quickly, seeing the stoic face the fourth person in the room wore: Dudley Dursley. Instantly she understood what was going on. That no good for nothing whale! This is horrible...

Sure, Dudley Dursley took advantage of his parents in the rivalry he forced upon his cousins, and he certainly got them in trouble but this was far beyond the petty punishments they received when Dudley decided to devour half the fridge and blame the twins, or when he destroyed a plate and accused them of tripping him while he was leaving the kitchen. No, this was in a whole league of its own and she was not only furious, but afraid for what was coming.

Harry finally caught sight of the now red in the face angry look his Uncle was shooting him, and he lost his mask in fear but only for a second, his brain screaming to get out of there but noticed that Erynn seemed rooted to the spot in fear and she being within distance of getting mauled by the large man. He moved closer and stepped infront of Erynn, meeting his Uncle's eyes with his own which once again displayed no emotion. He knew very well that this was Dudley's fault, finally picking up on why Erynn looked furious yet scared -- he was scared too, but his sister was obviously too afraid to shoot her a look and devise a plan. Instead, he chose the path that would lead him to a scolding or work, he could certainly handle that and could always get his sister to help him.

"I-is there anything... wrong, Uncle?," he asked, instantly feeling stupid for not rehearsing that better. Uncle Vernon seemed to agree with his thoughts as he quickly closed the distance and grabbed the collar of Harry's shirt and lifted him off the ground with his white knuckled hands. Erynn looked absolutely frightened as she became even more furious at the scene before her. She stepped forward, but Harry shot her a look that said to stop and her eyes glistened in fear.

Just then, his mind, without his permission, conjured a scene before him; his sister lying before his uncle, and his fist connecting with her face. He shuddered before he regained control of his mind, now looking back up at his Uncle, who had decided to try speaking since his looks had done nothing to frighten the boy.

"YOU... YOU... FREAK!...," he bellowed. Everyone's face changed; Harry looked confused, Erynn whimpered, while becoming more enraged at the false accusation that they had did this to the kitchen, Dudley smirked and looked on with glee, and Aunt Petunia was nodding in approval. "I FEED YOU, GIVE YOU A ROOF OVER YOUR MISERABLE HEADS AND YOU DO THIS TO MY KITCHEN? GIVE ME A GOOD REASON WHY I SHOULDN'T KNOCK YOUR HEAD RIGHT OFF YOUR SHOULDERS."

Harry James Potter never cowered under his Uncle's bellowing, nor did he show emotion and often remained cool-headed in distressing situations which explained why he was often the leader of anything they did. He was certainly not going to start looking scared now, although he felt very much that way. He may have been only six - nearly seven, but he was a very bold and often dauntless boy and he found it fit to reply in a calm and fearless manner, instead of what he really wanted, which was to be sarcastic and mention how his Uncle couldn't knock his head off at the shoulders because he had a neck unlike him.

"Because I never did any-" he said slowly, but before he could finish, he had been slapped across the cheek, quite hard, and for the first time in either Harry or Erynn's lives, one of them had been hit by their Aunt or Uncle.

"Don't. You. Dare. Say. You. Didn't. Do. It." he breathed, turning even more red in the face while Harry's eyes glistened, trying to restrain the tears and the pain. Uncle Vernon looked beyond Harry and fixed Erynn with a stare. Harry turned his head around and peered at Erynn. She displayed every emotion; love for her brother, fear for his safety, hatred for her Uncle, and absolute anger at their accuasations. "You filthy little whore," he sneered at the girl, "you'll get yours as soon as I'm done with this scruffy filth." Erynn's eyes shot open in surprise. She mentally weakened and questioned what's wrong with her, caring about what a mean bully like her Uncle said about her but it was the fact that she was Erynn Lily Potter and they were still her relatives and she wanted their approval and praise, as would any child.

She was so much like Harry but it was her inability to hide her emotion during distressing situations that made her a fighter instead of a cool-headed negotiater like Harry. She was certainly strong, and very powerful when she had to be. She watched, wanting to do something, as Harry looked back at their Uncle, trying to fight the pain and slurred.

"If you ever touch her-" but Uncle Vernon once again cut him off with another slap to his face.

His uncle focused his attention on the boy again. "DON'T TALK BACK." He slapped him again, "I WANT YOU TO APOLOGIZE RIGHT THIS INSTANT FOR DISRESPECTING ME," and yet another, "AND ANOTHER APOLOGY FOR CAUSING THIS MESS IN THE KITCHEN," an finished with an even harder hit before dropping Harry to the ground with a sickening thud where he groaned, not yet strong enough to take a beating such as that at the doorstep of age seven. He looked around, trying to fight off the voice that told him to lay down and noticed that his Aunt and cousin had left the kitchen. He finally caught sight of his sister, and tried to tell her to flee but her sister looked livid.

Erynn was furious. She took a step forward, unnoticed by her Uncle who was scowling at Harry as if he were garbage. She had never felt so angry in her life, and moreso, never felt so scared in her life; her brother was lying there receiving a beating and she wasn't able to do anything and had to wait to receive hers. She felt weak, but what Uncle Vernon said next would cause that weakness to flee her mind for awhile.

"Why I ever allowed you to stay in this house when I knew you'd be as worthless and carefree as your pathetic bitch of a mother and freak of a father, I don't know," Vernon boomed, getting ready to deliver the finishing blow to the boy and then hell broke loose.

Erynn screamed in fury, stepping forward, everything around her blurring as her body was racked in anger and disgust at such a vile relative. Vernon was startled and frightened, but this did nothing for Erynn took no notice of it as she continued to wail. Every piece of glass in the room - the jars, the drinking glasses, the windows, and Harry's glasses - exploded with such ferocity that she received several shards despite her being atleast ten feet from any glass. She stopped screaming and was about to look around in surprise, when she felt someone near her as her surroundings began unfogging.

Uncle Vernon's hand connected with her cheek, sending her to the ground -- her form sliding a few feet in the process. Uncle Vernon began shouting at her -- getting in her face and telling her how worthless and pathetic she was and the fear dwelled once again in her heart and mind. She thought that this was alright; it was only a few slaps which Harry had taken and if Harry could take it, she could too. She looked up and her eyes widened at how wrong she was: her Uncle's hand was no longer made to slap, but clenched in a tight fist that was made for punching the daylight's out of people. She closed her eyes, waiting for it, hoping she wouldn't die. I'm only six, please... please..., she thought, frightened out of her wits.

Harry regained control of his mind and body once more, and opened his eyes and instantly paled. There, ten feet from him was his sister, lying on the ground with fear registered in her eyes, their Uncle looming above her with every intention on causing her harm. Emotion he had never felt before took over his heart, his mind, and he got to his feet as something strange played within him as he fought back the tears of pain from his own wages received and the sadness in seeing his sister in such a position, it was almost as if a battle song played within him as a single tear slid down his cheek and it seemed to heal him and it made him aware of the incident that was about to occur as his Uncle raised his clenched fist ready to strike, and Erynn's eyes closed.

Harry thought nothing of it - as if it were instinct, and in his nature to do such things - as he closed the distance and jumped in front of his sister, snapping his eyes shut. His Uncle's fist connected with his jaw, and he was knocked into his sister who had just opened her eyes wondering why she hadn't been killed yet and gasped in shock, as she saw her brother's eyes open and roll to the back of his head. Darkness consumed Harry, and he was out like a light for the time being.

Aunt Petunia had just walked back into the kitchen, curious as to what had caused that large rattling noise. She surveyed the scene quickly; glass shattered everywhere, and her husband looking on with shock at two bodies, which were her nephew and niece -- the niece hugging the nephew fiercly as blood trickled from his mouth. Swelling and bruising was apparent on both cheeks and his jaw was forming both rather quickly. Her stomach clenched and her heartbeat raced. She was instantly fearing for her family, no - not Harry nor Erynn, but her Dudley and Vernon for she was supposed to keep those brats from harm, or face the wrath of Albus Dumbledore. She crossed the room towards her husband, trying to calm him down.

Erynn began rocking Harry's pale form and she became less aware of her surroundings. She muttered pleas of help for her brother, and tears began falling, freely. Someone touched her and she cowered, frightened. She looked up, her eyes filled with more unshed tears and saw Aunt Petunia looking down at her. Aunt Petunia moved her out of the way, taking Harry in her arms and took him to the cupboard, Erynn following right behind her. They entered the room and her Aunt dumped him onto the bad without any emotion, without checking if he was okay, and disregarded the sickening groan and blood that trickled down his face.

Aunt Petunia left the room with Erynn staring after her, visibly shocked, physically and mentally weakened at the fact that her own Aunt could not care less if Harry died. She asked herself if they were that bad, as she went back to the loose floorboard, ripping it up, and searching for the medicine and medical kits. She began crying again and was about to pick up the antisceptic wash when her brother startled her.

Harry's mind swirled with thousands of memories, some unexplainable. He was in the darkness, his mind screaming to allow him out, to let him help her, but his mind was not kind at all, as a nightmare took formation. Low hisses came from a dark corner, low hisses that he could understand.

"Eat her..."

"Poison her..."

"Swallow her..."

Light shined from a stick he was holding, and his mind shuddered at the thousands of snakes that surrounded his sister. He began talking to them, hissing at them and pleading.

"Leave her..." he hissed, and the real Erynn mentally weakened at her brother's cries. She looked frantically for bandages and cotton swabs.

"Take me instead..."

"Please..." he said, beginning to cry. Erynn could take no more, and as she looked up she gasped, dropping the supplies she had gathered. There on the bed lie Harry, his eyes filled with tears, some streaking all the way down to his throat, but what had startled Erynn, was how there were no bruises or signs that Harry had nearly been killed. Harry's breathing become softer and he muttered once more.

"I love her...," he whispered and Erynn's eyes lit up. She sat on the bed, taking in his face as she inched a hand over and touched his skin, seeing if it was really healed. She moved his bangs out of the way and lightly touched his scar. Her heart quickened as reality set in. How, she questioned her mind. Then an entire set of questions seemed to plague her innocent young mind.

How did I break that glass...

How did he heal so fast...

How could he take that punch...

Erynn spent much of the day reading various books, trying to study for the new term coming up but she couldn't concentrate, seeing her only friend and love in life laying on a bed, unconscious. She finally got tired of pretending to read and moved towards the bed, feeling lucky that she had gotten a brother like Harry. Her mind replayed what he had said, and she wondered if he had meant it. She had never been loved before, for no one had told her anything of the sort. She figured thats how Harry felt about her, and how she felt about him, and she felt wonderful from hearing the words. She finally got into bed with her brother, drew the covers around her and fell asleep. The hours ticked away as they enjoyed the warmth each other provided, and smiled into each other's embrace as they dreamt of flying broomsticks.

The young little girl stirred at nearly midnight from her dream and bumped her head into Harry's jaw, causing him to groan and mutter.

"Geroff" he grunted when he felt a lump hug him and squeal his name.

"Harry! You're awake!" she grinned, hugging him with much affection.

Harry's eyes fluttered open and he took in the brilliant green orbs gazing at him, smiling a weak smile. Memories of what had happened recently, came back to him in a rush and he instantly hugged his sister.

"Are you alright," he croaked, "did he touch you?" Erynn smiled a teary smile as her heart swelled with pride for her brother, who had been basically mauled by an elephant yet cared about her before himself.

"You were the one hurt," she teased. Harry smiled. She whispered, "I'm fine... although..." and she was about to explain what had happened to Harry's bruises, but decided not to spoil the moment and felt it better to do something else.

"Although what?"

"Harry... I love you," she said, and Harry smiled, taking her in his arms and holding her as they hit the bed again.

"I love you too..." he whispered, as he looked at the watch his sister was holding that read 12:01. Seven, he thought, it feels so much better, but why?, he questioned. He kissed his sister tenderly on her head, and whispered "Happy Birthday" which she kindly returned, and they snuggled up to each other, happier yet sadder, wiser, yet all the more confused at what was happening to them and they fell asleep, and dreamt and hoped of a day when they'd get to enjoy life to its fullest.

Seven. Harry and Erynn were seven and yet it felt so different from six. They felt like they could face anything, knowing that they loved each other, not having to guess what they felt and how each of them would always be there for one another. Thats all that would matter as more strange things happened, more beatings occurred, and as both of them became more skilled at everything they did. While life became harder, the love they felt for not just one another but for everyone no matter how cruel they were became even greater.

Little did they know, they would be changing an entire world.