Could Be Worse

Green Eggs and Ham

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 16/10/2004
Last Updated: 17/01/2006
Status: in_progress

Harry always wanted what he couldn't have. But as awful as his life may have been, things can always be worse.

Chapters

1. What He Couldn't Have

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

4. Chapter 4

5. Chapter 5

6. Chapter 6

7. Chapter 7

8. Chapter 8

9. Chapter 9

1. What He Couldn't Have

Wishing

Everybody knows people only want what they can't have. It's human nature. Just the way things are. Even when they get what they wanted, they only find something else to wish for…

Chapter 1

What He Didn't Have

“Harry!” she shouted, banging on his bedroom door. “Get up! Your breakfast is getting cold!”

Harry pulled his pillow tightly over his head. Since when did the summer holidays have to be so stressful? Wasn't summer the time when you were supposed to sleep in and be lazy every day?

She kept on with her incessant pounding. Living with Harry for all seventeen years of her life, she had finally learned that the only way to get him up was to drive him crazy until he did what she wanted. She could only imagine what his friends had to deal with when he went to Hogwarts.

Her husband walked slowly from their room, stopping in the doorway with a tired scowl on his face. “Will you just leave him alone? The boy is never going to get up!” he said, laughing softly at his wife's frustration at Harry's laziness. “Anyway, it's only the second day of summer. Shouldn't he be allowed to sleep in a bit?”

She sighed. “I suppose a few more minutes wouldn't hurt,” she said slowly, and then raising her voice a bit, shouted to the door, “But don't blame me if your breakfast gets cold!”

“Fine!” Harry shouted, shoving his head back under his pillow. It was times like this Harry wondered if it wouldn't be so bad to be an orphan…

*

Harry dragged his tired body into the kitchen where his father was sipping a cup of tea and reading the Daily Prophet, and his mother was biting into a piece of toast, just picking up her Witch Weekly magazine.

“Well look who finally decided to get up,” James Potter said as Harry flopped into a chair at the kitchen table. “You're mother and I were really starting to worry,” he laughed.

After a few moments of silence, Lily Potter, pointed to the cover of her magazine, handing it to Harry. “Neville Longbottom is on the cover again.” She sighed, and then added sadly, “That poor boy… all the things he's been through…”

Looking at the picture of Neville Longbottom on the cover of the most famous witches magazine in the entire wizarding world, Harry didn't see what was so bad about being famous. Neville's face winked at him, and brushed his hair out of his face, showing a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. He even has a cool scar...

Harry flipped to page 12, where there were more pictures of Neville—one of him with his parents, one of him flocked by about a dozen giggling girls, one of him signing autographs for sick children.

Neville Longbottom, the hero of the wizarding world, celebrated the anniversary of his defeat of Lord Voldemort yesterday by signing autographs for children in St. Mungo's. The 17-year-old is a seventh year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, but his friends say, Neville has definitely not let his fame get to his head.

Harry looked at the picture of Neville with the girls. He was grinning widely, and winking at everyone around him. He had one arm around a beautiful blonde, and the other around a gorgeous brunette, and he looked thrilled about the jealous looks they were receiving from the other girls around them. No, Harry thought. He is definitely not letting this get to his head.

“Neville deals with everything so well,” his best friend, Ronald Weasley commented. “He has had so much pain in his life, what with the death of his parents when he was a child, and then he was practically forced into being a murderer. It's just a miracle that he can still be so normal.”

Harry had seen Ron Weasley around Hogwarts. He practically worshipped the ground Neville walked on. It was sickening. And also quite sad, because he was only friends with Neville because he was famous. But regardless, Harry would have given anything to be in Neville's position.

Harry threw down the magazine, making both his mother and his father jump, and stomped up the stairs to his room.

*

Harry could tell his parents were starting to worry about him, and he knew he should try to lighten up, but it was hard when he felt like his life could fall apart at any moment. It seemed like everyone else had it better than him. Life was so hard.

He could hear shouting downstairs. Again. They were doing that a lot lately. Whenever his dad wanted to go out with Sirius, his mum would get upset and they would fight. But it was alright. Harry was used to it by now.

“Harry!” said a voice outside his bedroom door, making him jump.

“What do you want?” he shouted, annoyed.

A little girl burst through his door and threw herself onto his bed. She had red hair and dark brown eyes, and she was practically bouncing off the walls.

“Harry! Guess what? Guess what?” his sister shouted, now bouncing energetically from his bed to the floor.

Harry shoved his head into his pillow, mumbling, “Go away, Emily!”

“But GUESS WHAT!” she shouted, trying in vain to yank the pillow from Harry's face. When she got no answer, she yelled, “I just did my first MAGIC!”

She then took a step back from Harry's bed, and looked at him as if expecting him to jump up and down for her. Disappointed, she ran silently from the room, and seconds later, Harry heard his parents excited shouts from downstairs.

I know it's short, but I couldn't really think of anything else to say. I'm not sure if it's good enough to continue—it's just kind of something I wrote when I was bored… Leave a review to let me know what you think. And if you do think I should continue with the story, I would appreciate it if you had any ideas or suggestions of what you'd like to see in the next chapter. I can't promise that I'll use your ideas, because I'm kind of opposed to using other people's ideas in my stories, but I'm kind of stuck for what else to write, and I think my brain could use a push…

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2. Chapter 2

Hope you all liked the last chapter. Thanks for all the great reviews! Again, I'm sorry about the short chapters. I really am trying to make them longer, but when I get to a place that would make a good ending, I don't like to keep it going after that.

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 2

It wasn't long before summer was over, and Harry was heading back at Hogwarts. He had never been so excited to go back. He had never really liked it there much, but he appreciated the school significantly more after being stuck at home for the entire summer with only his parents and his psychopathic little sister for company.

Harry said goodbye to his parents, as always, and his mother cried, because, as she put it, “This will be the last time I'll ever watch you go away on the train. Soon you'll be done with Hogwarts and then you'll leave us forever!” His father had shook his hand, but Harry could tell that despite his attempts to be manly, James Potter was thinking along the same lines as his wife. His sister had cried too, but Harry hadn't taken any notice of this, as she cried every year.

He sat down in an empty compartment, just like always, and looked out the window, watching all the first years' frightened faces as they hugged their parents goodbye. Scanning the platform one more time, his eyes fell on Neville Longbottom. He was looking around slowly, looking almost out of place. It was in that moment that Harry realized Neville had never had the chance to wave nervously at his parents as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station. Neville didn't have parents. But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

*

“Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full,” a tall, gangly-looking boy with flaming red hair asked Harry. Harry nodded, looking quite puzzled, and the boy added, “I promised Neville I would save him a seat.”

Just then, Hermione Granger, Harry's best friend, slid open the door of the compartment, and sat down, sighing, “Harry, I've looked everywhere for you! Do you always have to sit at the very last compartment?” she paused, and then added, “or maybe I should have started looking in the last compartment first already.”

Harry laughed, but awkwardly, as Ron was now eying him suspiciously. “Are you alright?” Harry asked him slowly.

Ron gave a quick glance to Hermione, who was sitting across from Harry, smiled nervously, and said, “I'm sorry, but would you mind moving over one seat? You see, once Neville gets here, he'll want to sit next to the, er, window.”

Harry frowned slightly, but nodded, and moved over one seat. Hermione was also frowning. “You're that boy who practically worships the ground Neville walks on, aren't you?”

Ron looked up and down slowly as if he were much better than she was, and then chuckled loudly, and turned his head, as if deigning not to speak to her. But then he leapt up from his seat as if he had sat on some hot coals, because the door to the compartment had opened again, and Neville was walking in with his nose in the air.

“Ah, Ronald!” Neville boomed. “I had asked you for an empty compartment (he looked pointedly at Harry) but I suppose this will do.” He sat down across from Hermione, and looked at her predatorily. “Why hello, Hermione,” he purred. “What a pleasure.”

Harry had expected her to look at him like something nasty on the bottom of her shoe, but instead, she actually blushed, and… giggled? This really was too much. It was going to be a long trip.

*

Harry collapsed onto his bed. It really had been a long trip… and a long sorting, and a long feast, and now that he was finally up in his room on his bed, all he wanted to do was be anywhere else. Everyone was acting so strangely. And everything felt wrong somehow. After the summer everyone was so much more… different? Even Hermione wasn't the same, and she wasn't one to change, even in the seven years Harry had known her.

He could hear Neville talking to Ron on the other side of the room. (“And when you bring my breakfast to me in the morning, don't forget to cut the crusts off my toast and don't even think about the pumpkin juice with bits in it.) but he ignored him, and tried to focus on the raindrops falling outside his window. And with that, he drifted off to sleep.

Hope you liked it!

Review!

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3. Chapter 3

Hmm… well I don't really think this is one of the better chapters… actually, I don't think it was any good at all, but I was too lazy to delete it and start over, so here it is. It's shitty. Don't even read it. No, really.

Chapter 3

When Harry got down to the common room the next morning, Hermione was already there. And she was giggling. Again. Because Neville was already there. And he was grinning. It was enough to give anyone a headache. And it didn't help that Harry already had one.

“Well, my dear, you look stunning!” Neville was saying. “However do you manage to look so fabulous so early in the morning?”

She giggled again, and blushed. And Harry's head nearly exploded. He had never made her blush before…

*

“Oh, really Harry. Why don't you just tell me what's bothering you?” Hermione said, nibbling on a bit of toast.

Harry took a rather large bite of a muffin and mumbled something unintelligible. This only made Hermione make a disgusted face and throw a napkin at him. She was a bit huffy for the rest of breakfast, and nothing Harry said cheered her up, because, as she put it, “if you would just tell me what's wrong, maybe I could help, but instead you insist on keeping everything to yourself!”

Harry was mentally hitting himself. He couldn't tell her what was wrong, because then she would know, but he couldn't not tell her anything, because by the looks of her, tears were rapidly approaching. So, he did the only thing left to do.

“I, uh, think maybe I'm getting a cold. But it's nothing big, promise.” He knew from the minute it left his mouth that she wasn't going to believe it. She could always tell when he wasn't telling the complete truth. He could feel a big row coming now.

He looked slowly up at Hermione, expecting her eyes to be popping out of her head with anger. But she wasn't even looking at him. “Yes, right, well that's nice, Harry.”

That's nice? Nice? He's just lied to his best friend, and for the first time in the years they'd known each other she hadn't noticed. She had thought what he had said was, as she had so deftly put it, nice.

He turned to see what she was looking at, but he knew before he even turned his head by the hundreds of girls who were turning their heads at the same moment. Neville had entered the Great Hall.

What was the world coming to?

*

“Mr. Longbottom?” Professor Snape sneered. “May I ask why you're so late?”

Neville lounged into a chair at the back of the classroom. “Yes, you may,” he said, looking at Snape expectantly.

Snape's face turned purple, and Harry felt sure that his brain was melting. Fireworks were coming.

“Well?” he asked in a strained voice.

“I thought I'd come in late. You know, make an entrance,” Neville said grinning, and then winked at a girl sitting in the seat in front of him, who promptly passed out on the floor.

Harry smiled. Any minute now, Snape would spin out of control, and then Neville would be in trouble.

He must have stared at Neville for at least a minute, with Neville staring right back, until he said, “Well, Professor? Don't you have a class to teach?”

Harry could have jumped for joy. There was nothing he wanted more than for Neville to be knocked off his high horse, and nothing he could have said to Snape could have assured it to happen more than that.

Snape, whose face now resembled the color of a grape, stared at Neville some more, before turning right back around and continuing with what he was saying. And Harry's face fell.

Nothing? That was it? Neville wasn't going to get anything for talking to a professor like that?

Harry slammed his head onto the desk.

No one noticed.

Well, despite my attempts to warn you, it seems you've read this chapter anyway. How silly. But since you've taken up your precious time to read this chapter, you might as well just waste a bit more to tell me just how much you hated it… so go ahead. Maybe if enough of you tell me how terrible it was I'll write a better one next time…

Doubtful… but worth a try, right?

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4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next few weeks went by just as painfully as the first few had been, if not more so. Neville still walked around as if he owned the school, talking back to teachers without any consequences whatsoever, and still making Hermione giggle.

In fact everything was going so awfully that Harry was sure it couldn't get any worse.

And then it all went to hell.

*

“Now everyone, quiet down,” Professor McGonagoll cried in a futile attempt to silence her class after Neville had just strutted into the classroom. “I have an announcement to make.”

The class reluctantly stopped talking to Neville and turned to hear what announcement could possibly be more important than the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived had just entered the classroom.

“In an attempt to create some unity between houses of the school, Professor Dumbledore has decided that we would all advantage greatly from a school function that would bring all the houses together in a mutually beneficial way.” She paused as all the students looked at her in confusion. “Our Headmaster has decided that this school function shall be a ball.”

The class erupted in cheers, but Harry stayed strangely quiet. One thought was going over and over in his head. This was his chance. He would ask Hermione, and then she'd never giggle at Neville again, because then she'd finally know how he felt and she'd feel the same way, and everything would be perfect.

But as the class quietened, and Harry turned to look at Hermione, his thoughts were suddenly silenced. Neville was smiling at her—at his Hermione—and she was smiling back. They seemed strangely caught up in each other. Neville, of course, would only have been acting. He had obviously already chosen her as his date to the ball. And what could Harry do to compete with that?

He slammed his head on the desk.

Still, no one noticed.

*

When class was let out, Hermione moved over to Harry, who still had his head resting on the desk, and was making no effort to pack away his things, or even to get at all.

“Feel like talking about it?” she said softly.

“About what?” he replied shortly, his voice sounding strangely strangled.

She sighed. “Don't try to pretend like nothing's bothering you. I know something is wrong. You've been so distant.”

Harry lifted his head from the desk to look up at her. He would have told her right then that he loved her, had Neville not been standing right behind her with his arm around her.

“Don't worry, about him,” he said softly, leading her away out of the classroom. “He'll talk to you when he's ready.”

And then, as they were walking away, Neville turned back to look at Harry, and he smirked.

Harry looked around the empty classroom slowly, and then packed up his things and left the classroom, making his way slowly back to the common room.

I'm sorry it wasn't very long and I know nothing exciting happened, but I promise the story will speed up soon. I have an idea for where I want the story to go now, and it should start moving there in the next chapter. Sorry if you where terribly bored with this one, but I would still really appreciate reviews if you can spare the time and energy it takes to type a few words in a little box. Please?

Even if you hated it, I still need to know!! Thanks!

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5. Chapter 5

I know it's been more than a while since the last chapter, and any of you who might have read this story have probably forgotten all about it, but I hope you like it anyway… So, umm… have fun I guess!

Chapter 5

Harry rolled over, desperately trying to get back to sleep. It was, after all, the weekend, and he should be able to sleep in, but tragically, it was just not possible, because Neville Longbottom's voice was booming through the boys dormitory.

“Oh, and be sure to tell Hermione that she is to wear blue dress robes to the ball, Ronald. They would match with my eyes,” he was saying.

At these words, Harry gave up all hopes of getting back to sleep, and rolled himself out of bed lazily. Ignoring Neville and Ron, he walked straight out of the door, and decided to find Hermione, who would probably be studying in the common room. He saw her almost immediately and walked straight over, avoiding bumping into all kinds of people who were simply too busy to acknowledge his existence.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted curiously when she saw him. “What are you doing up? You're hardly ever awake before noon!”

Harry rubbed his eyes sleepily as he sat down. “Well Neville woke me up with all his talking,” he replied grudgingly. “Something about dress robes…”

Hermione practically squealed. “Dress robes? He wasn't talking about me, was he?”

He hadn't even been up ten minutes and already his day had become practically unbearable. “Yea, I think he might've been.”

“Do you know he asked me to the ball?”

Harry sighed, putting his chin on his hands. “I think I'd heard that, yea.”

Hermione sighed, staring out into space happily, and Harry nearly died. Just then, Ron stumbled into the common room, and walked over to them. “Um, Hermione?” he stuttered nervously. “Neville wanted me to tell you to wear blue for the ball.”

Hermione looked up. “Why blue? And why didn't he just tell me himself?”

Ron sighed, sitting down. “Don't know really. He does this for everything, though. He says blue will match his eyes.”

At this, Harry laughed, but managed to hide it with a cough. But Hermione looked on the verge of laughter, too. “His eyes?” she asked incredulously.

Ron smiled at this too, and leaned forward, whispering, “Yea, I know. He can be a little… showy sometimes. And he's just recently started having me deliver all his messages. But, I mean, it's understandable, I suppose… all the stuff he's had to deal with, you know?”

Somehow, Harry had the feeling that if he had ever been put into Neville's position, he'd have dealt with it a lot better.

*

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had spent the whole day walking around the castle, talking, and Harry found that Ron wasn't the annoying flatterer Harry had originally thought him to be. In fact, the three of them made pretty good friends. Ron wasn't so bad after all.

And after all the giggling and blushing, it didn't seem like Hermione liked Neville as much as she had been letting on.

“I suppose he's not really that good-looking when you really look at him, either. All those girls just like him because he's famous. I don't really know what came over me!” she laughed.

“Don't worry about it,” Ron chuckled. “I guess it's just that charm he has. But it gets old fast.”

“Why do you still hang around him then?” Harry asked.

Ron paused, and then said slowly, “I guess I've never had anything better to do. I mean, Neville was the first person I met when I got to Hogwarts, and once I started hanging out with him, I guess I kind of got a reputation, and nobody else would really give me a chance.”

Hermione smiled. “Well it's different now. We're your friends now. And I don't think I'm going to go to the ball with Neville, after all.”

Harry smiled as the three of them made their way back to the common room.

Things were starting to look up after all.

If you liked it, or if you thought it was stupid and horrible, let me know… Review! I'd appreciate it!

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6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The time of the holiday ball was swiftly approaching, and Harry and Ron still didn't have dates. The closer it got to the day of the ball, the more worried Harry got, and it seemed to him that there had never been so many girls at Hogwarts.

Two days before the ball, Harry knew it was time to take drastic action. He had just seen Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole, and he quickly stood up and walked over, leaving Ron behind him.

“Hey Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?” he asked, and watched as Parvati immediately erupted into a fit of giggles.

He waited patiently for her to regain her composure, and then she said, “All right then,” blushing intensely.

Then, turning to Lavender, he asked, “And will you go with Ron?”

At that, Lavender also began giggling, and Parvati said, “She can't. She's going with Seamus.”

Harry lowered his voice so Ron couldn't hear him. “Well do you know anyone else who would go with him?”

“My sister Padma isn't going with anyone,” Parvati said. “I could ask her if you like.”

“Yea, that would be great,” Harry said. “Let me know, would you?” And he went back over to Ron, feeling that this ball nonsense was a lot more trouble than it was worth.

*

Finally, the day of the ball had arrived, and all the boys in Harry's dormitory were getting dressed. After putting his dress robes on, Harry glanced over at Ron, whose robes looked more like a dress than anything else, with lacy cuffs, and a big frilly neck. In the interest of politeness, Harry held all his laughter in, and turned instead to look at Neville, whose dress robes were, of course, very fancy and extravagant. They were dark blue, and he had put a charm on them to make the shine and glitter, making him look, in Harry's opinion, a bit ridiculous.

Neville had been standing in front of the mirror for at least ten minutes already doing his hair and fixing his robes, and turning back to Ron, who had just done a bad Severing charm on his ruff and cuffs, and said, “C'mon, let's get out of here before Neville starts putting on makeup.”

Ron replied, “I actually think he's done that once before,” and the two boys left the room laughing.

Parvati was waiting in the common room, looking very pretty in robes of bright pink. “Padma is going to meet you in the entrance hall,” she told Ron, and the three of them climbed through the portrait hole.

When at last they had made it past the dozens of giggling girls that lined the hallways to the entrance hall, Ron met Padma, who looked as pretty as her sister in turquoise robes.

Entering the Great Hall with Parvati on his arm, Harry couldn't help but wish he was somewhere else. Balls just weren't his thing. And for once, Harry was right about something. The ball really did turn out to be more trouble than it was worth.

After dancing once with Parvati, Harry returned to the table where Ron was sitting next to Padma, who looked bored out of her mind and kept giving Ron dirty looks. “So, having fun?” Harry asked Ron sarcastically.

“What's it look like?” Ron mumbled. “But at least not everyone is having a miserable time,” he added, nodding toward the middle of the dance floor.

Harry looked up, and immediately the bottom of his stomach seemed to fall out. There was Hermione—his Hermione—dancing with Neville, and actually looking happy about it. She was smiling. Neville was making her smile.

Harry couldn't take any more of it. He stormed out of the hall as quickly as he could, deciding that balls were definitely not his thing, and that he would do better just to go to bed and forget all about it.

“Harry, wait!” said a voice behind him—a voice he knew better than anyone else's. “Where are you going? You look upset,” Hermione said, leaving the ball with Neville trailing behind her.

“It's nothing, really. You should go back in. You looked like you were having a good time in there.”

Hermione leaned forward, whispering, “Well, of course I looked happy. I couldn't just look moody, could I?”

Harry felt a little better at this, but then Neville came over and began dragging her away. She pushed him away gently, and he slowly went back to the hall.

“I'll be right there, I promise,” she called after him.

Harry frowned. “Well, why don't you just go with your precious Neville then?” he said bitterly. “You obviously don't want to be out here.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked incredulously. “I'm here, aren't I? If I wanted to be with him, I wouldn't have followed you.”

“Well then why did you come with him?” Harry shouted, losing control. “You think you have everyone fooled but you really do like him!”

Hermione just gaped at him for a moment, and then turned around and followed Neville back into the Great Hall.

Harry couldn't wait to go home. At least there he didn't have so much drama to worry about. At least there he could just be alone when he wanted to be, without having to deal with Hermione Granger.

I'm sorry if this chapter isn't great, but I promise the next chapter is gonna be a lot better, because it's gonna be about Harry going home for the holidays, and I'm gonna have a lot of fun with it, so don't lose interest if you didn't like this chapter. I kind of rushed it.

But whether you liked it or not, please review… it really makes my day, whether they're good or not.

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7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The day after the ball, everyone was leaving for the Christmas holidays, and Harry wished he could have stayed, because he would much rather have stayed with Ron, but since Ron was going home for Christmas as well, there wasn't really much else to do but go home.

When he got home there was nothing to greet him but everyone rushing around, getting ready for something. His parents were shouting about something, and desperately trying to get ready for something, but Harry couldn't figure out what it was. It wasn't just that they were cleaning, but they seemed to be hiding things away, so that the house looked rather boring.

Harry saw his sister sitting on the stairs, and immediately went over to get as much information as he could. “Emily, what's going on in here?” he asked her quietly.

“Well,” she replied laughing, “Mum and Dad have lost their minds.”

“We have not lost our minds,” Lily said, coming up behind them. “Do you remember you Aunt Petunia?”

Harry laughed dryly. “You mean the one who pretends we don't exist and who I've never met because she avoids our family like the plague?”

His mother glared at him, but continued as if she hadn't heard him. “Well, she and her husband, Vernon, and their children will be staying with us for the holidays.

“Fine, but that still doesn't explain why the house is in utter chaos,” Harry said, watching his father drag a large purple chest up the stairs.

“Well… my sister hasn't seen fit to tell her family that I'm a witch… or even that witches and wizards exist, and she has requested that we don't flaunt our `condition' while they are in the house,” Lily said bitterly.

As he walked past, James muttered, “In my opinion, you should have just told her to go to hell.”

“You know I can't do that, James. She's my sister, and I haven't seen her in ages, and if she offers to come and see us for Christmas, I'm going to let her. Now, back to work. We only have a few hours till they arrive, and we have to get rid of everything suspicious. Everything.”

James walked grudgingly back to his work, and Lily turned away, muttering, “Now I suppose a few enlargement charms won't hurt… otherwise we'll never fit all of them in here.”

*

The Potters stood by the front door, wearing brand new Muggle clothes, and waiting anxiously for the Dursleys to arrive.

“Ok, now there will be absolutely no magic,” Lily said, taking away all their wands and locking them away. “And please be nice to your cousins.”

Harry could see the nervousness on his mother's face, and he could understand how badly she wanted to impress Petunia and her family. Lily hadn't seen her sister since before Harry was born, and it hurt her every day. Harry could tell that she saw her sister's request to stay with them as a major breakthrough. A knock on the door interrupted Harry's thoughts, and with a deep breath, Lily stepped forward to open it.

A big, burly man walked in immediately, saying in a deep, booming voice, “Vernon Dursley. Pleased to meet all of you,” and shaking all of there hands in turn. He had a very firm grip.

After him, a boy Harry's age walked in, grinning, and also shook hands with all of them, saying simply, “I'm Dudley.” He seemed nice, but Harry didn't have much time to tell before a small boy and an even smaller girl followed their brother.

“I'm Davy, and this is Debbie,” the boy said. These two resembled their mother a lot more than Dudley did. Where Dudley was burly like his father, the other two were small and skinny.

The little girl smiled, and went straight for Emily. “How old are you?” she asked, speaking very quickly. “I'm six and a half, but soon I'll be seven, and Daddy says that when I turn seven I can have whatever I want for my birthday!”

Harry turned around, zoning out the little girl, who was already getting on his nerves.

“She's already getting on your nerves, isn't she?” Dudley asked, smiling. Harry laughed, and turned to look at his mother, who was just seeing her sister after almost twenty years. His first impression if Petunia Dursley was that she looked a lot like a horse, and the awkwardness surrounding the two sisters was so thick you could almost touch it.

Emily had gone upstairs a while ago, followed closely by Debbie, who still hadn't stopped talking. Harry turned back to Dudley and began a slightly awkward conversation, but it wasn't long before they were interrupted by Debbie, running full speed down the stairs.

“Mum, Dad! Guess what?” she yelled, running toward her parents. “There's an owl upstairs!”

Lily grew pale, glaring at James, and Petunia's eyes grew wide. “An owl?” she said, sending a warning look at her sister.

When no one else said anything, Harry stepped forward and crouched next to Debbie, saying, “You know, it might seem a little unusual to have an owl, but really they make great pets. They're very friendly.”

“I think it's great!” she shouted. Turning to Vernon, she asked, “Daddy, can I have an owl?”

“Uh… we'll see,” he said, looking more than a bit confused.

Petunia cleared her throat. “Well, it's been a long journey, and I'd appreciate it if you would show us where we'll be staying.”

Lily practically jumped over to their luggage, and led them up the stairs to their room. Dudley smiled uneasily, and then followed his parents.

“Well this should be an interesting Christmas,” Harry said to his father when they were left alone.

James smiled and leaned over, whispering, “You have no idea. I haven't told your mother yet, but I've invited Remus and Sirius over for Christmas dinner.”

Harry gasped. His father never had really grown up, and he still liked to cause a little bit of mischief. Remus wouldn't cause any trouble, but Sirius was another story. His twin sons, Alex and Andrew, were only 4 years old, but they had quite a bit of talent, and strange things were already happening around them all the time. They could be quite rowdy, too, and Harry could tell that neither his mother, nor the Dursleys would quite approve of their being there.

It was going to be a very interesting Christmas.

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8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Christmas day was rapidly approaching, and Harry could see his mother's worry increasing with every day. Also, once James had told Lily that Sirius and his family would be joining them for Christmas dinner, Harry's parents were fighting a lot more too. They thought that by doing a silencing charm, no one would notice, but Harry always did.

The Dursleys, of course, were blissfully ignorant of this. Petunia spent her days walking around the house, looking at everything suspiciously, as if she expected things to start exploding at any moment.

Vernon kept giving Harry strange advice, like, “You should really start eating more, like Dudley does. You're all skin and bones. It's not attractive at all.”

Dudley was a bit annoying, too. He was a bit obnoxious, like his father was. But his brother was worse. Davy kept trying to kick Harry from behind without him noticing. Then he would walk away, laughing loudly. The worse of it was that Vernon and Dudley were actually quite pleased with him whenever he would do this, making it almost unbearable.

Debbie was annoying in a different way. She seemed to love spying on people, and she always needed to know everything that was going on, all the time. She would follow people around the house, always a few steps behind them, in case anything interesting happened. She seemed to get this from her mother, who kept looking out the windows, spying on the neighbors.

Overall, Harry couldn't wait for the Dursleys to leave. But if he couldn't make them leave, the least he could do was to put a little hell into their stay, and that came on Christmas day, with the arrival of his father's friends.

Remus was the first to arrive, and he greeted the Dursleys politely, as he did with everyone. Remus Lupin was probably the nicest man Harry had ever met, and he had known his father practically forever. The only problem was that he was a werewolf, so it was difficult for him to keep any jobs or relationships. Even though he was a nice man, he had never been married, and he had to spend his life alone.

Sirius arrived next, with his wife, Estelle, and their twin sons, Alex and Andrew. Almost immediately, the chaos began. The boys rushed into the house, followed quickly by their mother, shouting, “What did I say about being calm?” and trying desperately to slow them down. Sirius didn't look too bothered by the whole thing, and it was clear that this happened all the time.

After a few minutes, the twins were dragged back to the living room by their frazzled mother, who practically tossed them at her husband. “I'm so sorry about this, Lily,” she sighed, before collapsing on the couch.

Petunia and Vernon were absolutely shocked at this behavior, and it showed.

“So… how is everyone?” Lily said quickly, fighting to distract everyone.

It didn't work. The twins were glaring at Vernon, who was giving them the kind of superior look he usually gave to Harry. They didn't seem to like that.

James walked in with tea, and handed it quietly to Lily and Petunia. Vernon rose from his chair to take his cup, saying in his booming voice, “Why thank you, James.”

While all this was happening, Harry saw the twins give eachother a quick, mischievous look, but it was gone in a second, and they were back to staring at Vernon.

It all happened in a split second. Vernon, sipping his tea, went to sit back down, but in the fraction of a second before he touched the chair, it had vanished. Vernon fell to the ground, his tea tipping all over him, and covering him in the scalding liquid.

If the house had been loud before, it was nothing to what it was now. Vernon bellowed, Petunia shrieked, the twins were on the floor laughing, Estelle looked as if she might cry, and Harry thought his mother would faint.

Vernon rose, shaking, and still covered in hot tea, and said, “Well, that was odd,” and then slowly left the room, followed quickly by his wife.

Lily turned to the twins, nearly trembling with rage, her face turning quite red. The twins looked deeply afraid.

“We're sorry, Aunt Lily,” they both said in unison.

She took a deep breath to calm herself down, and said softly, “If you ever try anything like that again, I will personally make sure this is the worst Christmas you have ever had.” Leaving the twins looking shocked behind her, Lily left the room slowly, returning to the kitchen.

The day continued, awkward and silent, until dinner, when things would only get worse.

“It's amazing that you can fit everyone around this table,” Petunia said to Lily as they all sat down. “There's so many of us.”

“Well, yes,” Lily said uneasily, “but the table is bigger than it looks.”

Harry turned away from their conversation, knowing full well that his mother had enlarged the table magically. He looked at Vernon, who seemed to be having a bit of trouble with his mashed potatoes.

He would lift his fork to his mouth, but just before the potatoes reached his lips, they would vanish. Vernon was looking genuinely confused, and didn't notice the twins giggling next to him.

James winked at Harry after seeing what was going on. He really seemed to be enjoying this, as he definitely didn't like his brother-in-law very much. “So, Vernon, how's the food?” he asked, grinning.

“It's delicious, thank you,” he replied, turning instead to the meat.

Estelle gave the twins a warning look, and they quickly returned to their food, not wanting to get on anyone's bad side so close to present-time.

Lily tried in vain to start another conversation, but it wasn't working out very well, as no one at the table really had much in common with each other.

Harry glanced back at Vernon just as he was attempting another mouthful of mashed potatoes. This time he was watching them closely all the way up to his mouth, but just as he looked away to put them in his mouth, they were gone.

Unfortunately, Dudley had seen them that time, and he pointed at his father's fork, saying, “They're gone! They just… vanished!”

Roaring with frustration, Vernon rose from his chair, and yelled, “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH THESE POTATOES?”

Petunia face had lost all it's color. “That's it. We're leaving. NOW,” she said firmly.

Vernon backed away slowly. “There's something strange about this place.”

Lily got up to stop them, but James held her back. “Lils, there's nothing you can do. Just let them go.”

Lily turned on him quickly. “This is all your fault! If you hadn't been so desperate to show them what we are, none of this would have happened!”

Vernon edged closer to his wife. “Petunia, what's going on?” he whispered.

But she, too, turned on her husband. “Just stay out of this! This doesn't concern you!”

Sirius and his wife were yelling at their sons, who looked terrified, and everyone seemed to be having an enormous fight.

Suddenly, a loud pop, the unmistakable sound of someone apparating, came as a little man appeared in the center of the room.

There was complete silence, and the Dursleys looked as if they all might faint. After all, it wasn't every day that a little man appeared in the center of your living room.

The man looked pale, and out of breath, and he said quickly, “He's back! The Dark Lord has returned!” and promptly fainted.

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9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Dursleys, the Potters, and, of course, the Blacks, walked into Sirius' house, and Harry immediately noticed by the looks on the Dursleys faces that they were incredibly impressed. He knew how they felt, too—it was an incredible house. And he knew how much work had gone into making it so beautiful.

Sirius and Estelle had worked for years and years to make the Black house look presentable, and it had definitely paid off. The house that had once been dark and dirty now looked absolutely amazing.

Moving paintings lined the walls, and the Dursleys gasped as each one greeted them. Vernon looked up to the high ceilings, and then glanced at Sirius, and it was clear by his face that his respect for him had just increased.

Harry turned to see Debbie talking rapidly to a portrait of a young princess, and he laughed as the princess talked just as rapidly back. Petunia looked as if she was unsure how to react about the situation, and kept her eyes resolutely on the floor.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Alright, let's move into the lounge, and I can contact the proper people so that we can sort this whole thing out.”

Everyone followed Sirius into the next room, and the Dursleys watched in complete shock as Sirius stuck his head into the fire and began talking. Their horror only increased when, five minutes later, an old man with a long silver beard climbed out of the fireplace.

“Oh, Dumbledore, thank goodness!” Estelle gasped. “What's happening? We heard terrible things! We heard…. we heard that You-Know-Who is back!”

Dumbledore sighed. “It is true. Voldemort has indeed returned.”

An awful silence followed these words as everyone tried to take this is. “Maybe we should talk about this in the other room… away from the children?” Lily said gently.

“No,” Dumbledore said firmly. “They have as much of a right to hear this as you do. It will be good for them to hear the truth. But before we get to that, we must make sure that everyone is here.”

“What do you mean?” James asked.

Dumbledore walked to the fireplace, and then turned back to face them. “Neville Longbottom needs to be here.”

Harry sighed, and the others nodded. Of course Neville would have to be called. It would be his duty to kill Voldemort again. After all, he was the savior of the world.

In just a few minutes, Neville had joined the strange party, and the room was completely silent, everyone on the edges of their seats, waiting anxiously for Dumbledore to speak.

But before he could begin, Neville spat, “This is all just a ridiculous prank. Voldemort can't possibly be alive. I killed him years ago.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I assure you, this is not a joke…”

“But what about the prophecy?” Neville interrupted. “It said that I alone would have the power to kill him, and I did! All that work, and now I'm just going to have to do it all again?”

“Actually,” Dumbledore said, smiling slightly, “no.”

Neville simply stared at Dumbledore for a moment. “What do you mean, no?” he asked slowly. “There's no one else who can!”

“Well that's where you're wrong. You see, last time, you were the only one who could destroy him, but this time, it is someone else who has been given that power,” Dumbledore said, and then, slowly, he turned and looked at Harry.

Harry looked blankly at him, and then, suddenly, he burst out laughing. “You're joking… Me?” When Dumbledore said nothing, Harry's laughter faded, and he glanced at Neville.

“Him?” Neville croaked, turning pale. “But…there's nothing special about him…I'm the only one… What about me? What about the prophecy?”

“Ah, well, this all fits in with the prophecy, I assure you. Just not that particular prophecy,” Dumbledore said slowly, glancing between the two boys.

“What do you mean, not that particular prophecy?” Neville said scaldingly.

“Well, another prophecy was made a little over a year ago, of which you were not informed.”

“Another prophecy? But that's ridiculous! And why was I not informed?” Neville shouted.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. “You were not informed because it did not refer to you,” he said, glancing at Harry.

“There was a prophecy about me?” he said quietly. “But there's nothing special about me…It can't be about me.”

“I assure you, it is,” Dumbledore said, smiling gently.

Neville looked very put out by this. “Well what did it say, then?” he said indignantly.

The room stayed silent as Dumbledore took a deep breath, as if trying to get his thoughts together. “It said, `The Dark Lord will return from the past, and when he does, the boy that had destroyed him will be helpless to stop him. But another will rise up to rid the world of him forever. The boy was also born as the seventh month died, to parents who had thrice defied him. The boy who was not chosen.'” Dumbledore smiled and looked around at all the silent faces, looking quite calm.

Finally, Harry spoke quietly. “So… you think that's me, then?”

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Neville burst out, “Helpless to stop him? Helpless? Who was it that killed him the first time? And they don't think I can do it again?”

Dumbledore turned back to him, unsmiling. “The prophecy simply states that your role in fighting Lord Voldemort has ended.”

Neville stood gaping, and Lily rose from her seat. “And my son has to go and fight him?” she asked, tears rising in her eyes.

“He does not have to, of course. The prophecy tells us he has the power, not that he must use it. That is, and will remain, his decision.”

Everyone turned slowly to look at Harry, looking shocked and confused, or in Debbie's case, impressed.

“Ok…” he said slowly, “what do I have to do?”

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