A/N: Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter! I'll admit, I was a little bummed by the lack of response, but those of you who did review seemed to like it. The actual party isn't until the next chapter, but this chapter introduces a character near to the hearts of many in HP fandom. Happy reading!
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The night of Hermione Granger's party had arrived. Harry was forced to aid Dudley in getting ready for the party, which Harry disliked immensely. Then again, so would anyone who had to force Dudley into tights and a spandex bodysuit. After Harry had managed to shove Dudley's feet into his boots, Petunia came in, squealing like a schoolgirl.
"Oh Dudders! You look positively dashing Not a girl at the party will be able to resist my handsome little man!!" Dudley puffed out his chest importantly.
Harry looked nervously at Petunia. "Aunt Petunia? May I go get ready for the party?"
"The bathroom needs a good scrubbing," she sneered. "Perhaps if you can make it shine, I'll allow you to get ready." Turning to Dudley, she said, "Come on Dudders, my growing boy needs his dinner!" Dudley was literally salivating as he followed her down the stairs.
Harry wandered into the bathroom. As much as he hated his menial cleaning tasks, he was looking forward to Hermione Granger's party so much that he was whistling as he scrubbed the toilet clean. After Petunia grudgingly admitted that he had done a good job of cleaning, Harry practically sprinted to his cupboard. He put on his father's tuxedo and cape, thinking that he didn't look half bad. He added a Phantom mask before he stepped out into the living room.
Dudley's face contorted in anger before a scheming glint appeared in his eye. "Mum, that's what we
forgot. I need a cape! Can I have Harry's?"
"Of course you can, Diddykins. Give him the cape boy."
"B-But it's mine!" Harry protested, feeling his own anger rise.
Vernon's face turned very purple, and Harry was sure he was going to get a thrashing. "GIVE DUDLEY THE CAPE THIS SECOND OR I WILL LOCK YOU IN YOUR CUPBOARD AND THERE WILL BE NO PARTY FOR YOU!!!"
Harry sighed and removed the cape, handing it to Petunia. She beamed as she placed it around Dudley's shoulders.
I still have the tux. I suppose I could go as James Bond or something. Dudley, apparently, had other ideas. His jealousy of Harry had only increased when he saw that Harry still looked better than he did.
"Dad, Harry stole that tux!" Dudley cried triumphantly.
Vernon wheeled around. "IS THAT TRUE BOY?!"
"No Uncle Vernon, I didn't. I swear," Harry said, backing up against the wall.
"Well where did you get it from then?"
"It belonged to my father," Harry said.
"How did you get something of his?" Petunia spat.
Harry realized that there was no point in lying. "I-I found it in the attic," he admitted.
"SO YOU DID STEAL IT!" Vernon roared.
"Well not really," Harry said. "It did belong to my father, after all."
"Yes, but it was in MY ATTIC! What else have you been stealing from me boy?"
"N-Nothing s-sir," Harry stammered.
"YOU LIE!" Vernon ripped off Harry's jacket. Dudley smirked as he ripped it into strips. Vernon then yanked Harry's shirt with such force that the buttons popped off.
"IN...THE...CUPBOARD...NOW!!!" Without a moment's hesitation, Harry complied. So much for the party...there's no way they'll let me go now.
Dudley laughed maniacally as Vernon stared into Harry's face. "We're taking Dudley to this party, and then your aunt and I are going to the movies. You will be locked in here."
Before Harry could reply, the door was shut in his face. He sat down on his cot, sighing as the lock clicked. As he heard the Dursleys leave, he laid back, putting his hands beind his head. He had desperately wanted to go to this party, to have a night of teenage normalcy. Dudley had friends, he went out in the evenings. Harry had never had the opportunity. And now it seemed like he never would.
After what seemed like an eternity (but was, in fact, fifteen minutes) Harry heard soft footsteps in the living room.
The Dursleys haven't come back yet. Somebody must be breaking into the house! Harry's eyes widened in fright as he held his breath, afraid to let even the tiniest sound escape his lips. He was even more frightened when the footsteps stopped outside of his cupboard, and then a voice whispered, "Alohomora."
The lock clicked and the door opened.
Nothing could have prepared Harry for what he saw on the other side of the door. There was an old man, with white hair and a long white beard. He was wearing long robes of deepest purple, spangled with gold stars. Delicate half-moon spectacles were perched on his crooked nose, and a pointed hat was atop his head. He held in his hand a twelve inch stick.
"Who are you?" Harry asked.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am your fairy godfather."
"You've got to be kidding me," Harry said skeptically. "How did you get in here?"
"Magic," Dumbledore replied, as if it was obvious.
"Prove it," Harry said. Dumbledore pointed his stick at Harry and said, "Petrificus totalus." Harry suddenly found himself unable to move.
"Finite," Dumbledore said, and Harry's limbs could move freely once more.
"Okay, so you can do magic. What are you doing here?"
Dumbledore gave a deep, rumbling chuckle. "I am here to help you get to Miss Granger's party, of course."
As skeptical as Harry had been at Dumbledore's appearance, Harry decided he had never been happier to see anyone in his life.
"Now," Dumbledore said, looking pointedly at Harry's tattered shirt, "that will never do." With a flick of his wand, Harry was wearing tight black breeches, black boots, a white ruffled shirt, and a black cape. A black hat was perched upon his head, a black half-mask on his face, and a sword in a holster on his hip.
"I certainly hope you have no objections to going to the party as Zorro," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "No sir, this is fantastic, thank you!"
"There is one more part of your outfit though," Dumbledore smiled. His made a small swishing movement with his wand, and lion-shaped cufflinks with tiny rubies as eyes appeared on Harry's wrists. "Those were handed down from generation to generation in your father's family."
"Really?" Harry asked, eyes bright. He lightly ran his fingers over the lion on his left wrist.
"You'll need a way to get there," Dumbledore said, rubbing his chin. Harry followed him outside. Dumbledore spied an old ride-on car that Dudley had outgrown years ago. "That will do perfectly," he said, as he turned the motorized child's car into a sleek black limousine. He noticed a bird sitting on a power line and coaxed it down. He turned the bird into a driver, who promptly opened the door for Harry.
"Wow! I get to ride in that?" Harry asked, mouth agape.
"Yes, Harry, but there is something you need to remember. When the clock strikes midnight, everything will be back to normal. You will go back to wearing a tattered tuxedo shirt, and the limousine will turn back into a child's toy. You must remember this."
Harry slid into the car. "Thank you," Harry smiled. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
"It was my pleasure my dear boy, but remember...midnight..."
Harry helped himself to a root beer as the limousine sped off toward the Granger mansion.