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Alexandra Lloyd · 11-21-2010, 04:27 PM

Hey guys! This is the second fanfic I have ever written (the first one wasn't good enough to be posted anywhere lol) I'm just curious to know what you really think about them because I've been writing it for years, but I've always been afraid to show them to anyone else. Anyway, I hope you like it. Here's Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and universe belong to J.K. Rowling.

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"The Kinney family has invited us for dinner tomorrow night!" Vernon Dursley said excitedly as he walked into his living room.

"Do you mean the rich Kinney family that just moved in next door?" Petunia Dursley replied with just as much enthusiasm as her husband. Harry knew that nothing made the Dursleys happier than rich friends that they could mooch off of and use for vacations and other benefits of being wealthy. He was sitting in the living room, a victim of Dudley's bullying until his Uncle Vernon had walked into the room, not that Uncle Vernon really cared that his son was bullying Harry, after all Harry knew that the Dursleys didn't like him very much. He wasn't their child and he just took up money, food and space.

Harry was a very skinny boy of six who lived with his aunt, uncle and very spoiled cousin. His parents had tragically died in a car accident five years previous and the Dursleys were the only living family he had left. Sometimes Harry missed them, his parents, though he didn't know what they looked like because he was only one year old when he last saw them, or so he had been told. But Harry had created an idea of what his parents were like and sometimes when he was feeling lonely, scared or sad, he would imagine that they were there with him, helping him feel better. His teachers would sometimes call home to inform his aunt and uncle that they thought Harry had a serious mental problem because he was continuously talking to nothing but thin air and addressing it as "mum" and "dad". But the Dursleys did the same thing every time, pretended to care and then hung up the telephone and did absolutely nothing about it.

Dudley ran up to his father and punched him square in the stomach, as that was his way of saying hello. "Hello there Dudders." said Uncle Vernon massaging the injury his son had just given him. He now looked toward his wife. "Yes, the very same Kinneys, Petunia dear. Robert Kinney told me just now. But I hope you understand how vital it is that we impress them."

"Of course dear," Aunt Petunia replied loyally, "This is absolutely wonderful! I went shopping the other day and bought Diddykins a brand new suit to wear." She pinched her son's cheeks and nose and he drew back.

"There's just one… little problem." Uncle Vernon said re-emerging from the coat closet, "He asked that everyone join us, specifically including Harry." Harry, who was not paying attention, suddenly tuned into to the conversation at the sound of his name.

The excitement slowly drained out of Aunt Petunia's face. "They specifically mentioned his name?"

"Yes."

"They said, 'Bring Harry along?'"

"Technically, yes."

"And what do you mean by technically?" she asked acidly. She was clearly on a desperate search for a loophole. She hated the thought of taking Harry anywhere.

"Well… He started the conversation asking questions about him, such as how is he and other nonsense. I tried to bring Dudley into the conversation but every time they changed it back to Harry. They seemed very interested in him. That's when they suggested we come to dinner with them tomorrow, bringing Dudley and Harry along with us."

Aunt Petunia stared blankly at her husband and a smile slowly crept across Harry's face. He never got to go anywhere with them. He had never been to an amusement park, or a restaurant, or to an arcade or away anywhere on vacation or even to a birthday party. Every time something entertaining came up in their schedule, the Dursleys shipped Harry off to a babysitter, and never a good one. It was mostly Mrs. Figg, the old lady who lived across the street who was entirely too obsessed with cats. His smile quickly disappeared as his aunt and uncle looked at him, their lips pursed their faces manically evil.

"So I guess the question is, do we bring him along or lose the chance of fraternizing with our… lovely new neighbours?" Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Well… I-I guess we could… bring him if it means… you know... if Robert Kinney really wants us to." stuttered Aunt Petunia.

Uncle Vernon turned his head sharply to his nephew. "Don't get any bright ideas Potter," he snapped, spitting on the P in Potter, "If you ruin this for us, even in the slightest, you will no longer live harmoniously under this roof. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." said Harry, with a very flat tone in his voice for a child who just received such exciting news.

"What are you up to?" Aunt Petunia said sharply, noticing Harry's non excitement.

"Nothing, I didn't do anything." said Harry innocently.

"You sure don't sound like you're happy about this."

"I am, honest. It's just… I feel funny. I'm going to bed." It was only seven thirty but Harry was exhausted and left the living room for his room in the cupboard under the stairs. He quickly put on his pyjamas, regardless of whether or not they were correct and curled up into his bed. "What's wrong with me?" he asked himself. He rubbed his cold, clammy hands on his temples, closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

Harry didn't sleep well that night. He woke up seven times feeling hungry, because he skipped dinner, and sick but he didn't quite know what was wrong. He finally got up at six thirty and went into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were already there, Dudley slurping down his cereal, toast and eggs like some sort of barn animal.

Aunt Petunia put another large plate of food on the table. "I don't think Uncle Vernon is awake yet." noted Harry, knowing that his aunt never ate food of that proportion.

"This isn't for him, this is for you."

Harry's eyes widened. "Me? Why?"

"Because, since Robert Kinney seems so interested in you, Vernon and I have concluded that he is a social worker checking up on us. If he sees that you're looking even the slightest bit peaky they'll… arrest us or something."

Harry didn't know much about social workers, but he was pretty sure that you couldn't get arrested for not feeding your nephew. Aunt Petunia often overreacted when she didn't understand things. "But… I can't eat all of this food." said Harry.

"Oh you can, and you will. Or this will be your last meal." She turned back to the sink and continued to wash dishes.

Harry sat at the table in front of the large plate of food and stared at it. He was hungry, but not that hungry and had a severe fear of becoming as large as Dudley. Regardless, he picked up his fork and began to eat.

Not long thereafter Uncle Vernon arrived in the kitchen looking refreshed, his face clean and his teeth brushed. "Morning family!" he exclaimed cheerfully and he sat at the table next to his son and across from Harry.

"Morning, dear," said Petunia kissing her husband and placing a large plate of breakfast in front of him as well as a smaller portioned plate in front of her seat.

There was silence as everyone tucked in hungrily. With much difficulty Harry managed to finish the whole plate of breakfast Aunt Petunia served him. Then he cleaned up his plate and Dudley's and went back to his room breathing deeply. Maybe now you can get some sleep since you've eaten. Harry thought, closing his eyes. But it hadn't been three minutes before Aunt Petunia called him back again.

Harry didn't get a chance to sleep at all during the day either because it was very important that Harry was fattened up and well groomed for this occasion. Aunt Petunia was very convinced that Robert Kinney was a social worker. So when Harry wasn't eating he was getting a haircut or having his nails trimmed etc. Although he attempted countless times to tell his aunt and even his uncle that he didn't feel right and had gotten no sleep the previous night they did not seem to be capable of listening. So Harry felt miserable all day long, but he refused to let himself think that he was sick. He didn't enjoy being sick, not only because it was uncomfortable but because it meant that he was to be confined in his room to protect Dudley from whatever ailment Harry was suffering from, even if he had contracted it from Dudley in the first place.

After his bath, Aunt Petunia finally gave him time to himself as she bathed Dudley and dressed him. Harry locked himself in his room, just in case she changed her mind. He lay down flat on his back, his hands on his stomach and closed his eyes. He was too full, Aunt Petunia had overfed him all day, insisting that it would make a difference, and it made Harry feel uneasy. "I've got to make myself feel better," said Harry aloud to no one. "I can't ruin this for Uncle Vernon. Maybe if I'm good then he will like me more." Harry turned over and tried to get some rest before dinner, but again couldn't because Dudley did not want to put his clothes on and was putting up a very noisy fight upstairs that was audible from Harry's bedroom. He closed and opened his eyes several times but it was no use, and he soon heard Aunt Petunia yell throughout the house, "Is everybody ready?", forcing him to get up from the comfort of his bed and go wait in the living room for the rest of the family to gather.

Uncle Vernon opened the front door and the crisp night air washed over Harry's face as he stepped out onto the front stoop. It was nearly dark now, and the sky was specked with faded stars. Harry felt as though the entire day had been a blur of "Potter come here!" and trying ineffectively to feel better for that night.

They soon arrived at the restaurant and though Harry was amazed at its elegance he was also disappointed; it was a seafood restaurant. "But I don't like seafood." Harry said as Uncle Vernon struggled to find a parking space on his own. He hated the concept of paying the valet parker to do something he had to learn in order to pass his driving exam.

"Last I checked we didn't ask your opinion." Aunt Petunia replied and Dudley snorted. Harry sank low in his seat. He could feel himself getting sicker. The car finally came to a stop and Dudley, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and lastly Harry stepped out of the vehicle.

Robert, his wife Elisabeth and his daughter Samantha were waiting patiently outside the restaurant engaging in sophisticated conversation. Robert Kinney was similar to Uncle Vernon, short and rather stout except with dark hair, no moustache and glasses. Elisabeth Kinney was much thinner and much younger than her husband with wispy blonde hair and a very reserved and shy disposition. Samantha Kinney was very different from her parents. Although she had inherited her father's dark hair and her mother's sea blue eyes, there was something about her that was unique and Harry couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"Why, hello!" chorused both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, in a strangely friendly tone. The Kinney family and the Potter-Dursley family drew closer and closer until Vernon Dursley met Robert Kinney in a firm handshake.

"It's lovely of you to come. What a pleasure it is to see you."

"The pleasure is all mine." replied Uncle Vernon.

"This is my wife Elizabeth and my daughter Samantha." introduced Robert Kinney. Mrs. Kinney gave a smile through her pursed lips and Samantha waved timidly.

"This is my wife Petunia, my son Dudley and… my nephew Harry."

"So this is Harry," said Mrs. Kinney, inspecting Harry briefly from head to toe. She smelled strongly of expensive perfume. "I think that it's simply wonderful of you to take him in after a tragedy like that. You and your sister must have been very close."

"We were inseparable." Aunt Petunia said drawing a handkerchief from her coin purse and daintily wiping the corners of her eyes. Dudley laughed, but Harry didn't think it was funny. He didn't know much about his parents but he knew that his mother must have done something to upset Aunt Petunia, or vice versa, but it was enough that their relationship had been destroyed. Now, she was talking about her as though they had been friends all along and it seemed antagonizing to him.

"Your son is absolutely adorable." said Mrs. Kinney now turning from Harry to a chubby and impatient Dudley.

"What do you say to Mrs. Kinney, Dudley?" prompted Aunt Petunia.

"I'm hungry. Can we eat now?" Dudley said loudly. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze, but the Kinneys simply laughed.

"We've already made reservations," Mr. Kinney explained, "Our table should be ready by now."

They walked into the warm restaurant. It was everything Harry could imagine a fancy restaurant would be like; the waiters and waitresses wore suits with trays carried on their shoulders and their noses pointed toward the ceiling. The room was dimly but sufficiently lit with candles on the walls and tables, and a dark but lavish red carpet. The tables were dressed with white cloth and were each arranged with a small assortment of roses.

Mr. Kinney cleared his throat. "We've made previous reservations, under the name Robert Kinney." he said very professionally.

The waiter checked the computer. "Ah, but of course. Right this way Mr. Kinney." They followed the waiter deep into the restaurant. As they passed each table served with elegant seafood Harry felt more and more nauseous.

"Are you all right?" Samantha Kinney asked him. She had been walking behind Harry the whole time and noticed his disgusted facial expressions as he stared at the passing plates.

"I'm all right… I'm great." said Harry and he turned away from her before she could ask anything else. He knew that if the Dursleys noticed that Harry was getting more attention from her than Dudley then they would force Dudley upon her, and Harry would never purposely do that to anyone, especially not Samantha Kinney.

They reached the table and everyone sat down. After the bread and champagne arrived, Mr. Kinney began conversation. "So, Harry, how are your grades in school?"

"Er… I dunno… I suppose they're good." Harry answered nervously.

"You know Dudley always gets amazing grades. Just last week he brought home an A on a spelling test!" exclaimed Uncle Vernon, chuckling and ruffling his son's hair proudly. Much to Harry's surprise, Mr. and Mrs. Kinney were impressed with Uncle Vernon's lies.

But Harry didn't care, he had his own problems. He now truly realized how sick he was. His eyesight was doubling, he felt nauseous and lightheaded and he had a very bad headache that felt like his brain was seconds from exploding. Despite all of this, the worst feeling was probably the fact that Harry knew no one cared, that this dinner was more important to the Dursleys than his health. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and tried as hard as a six year old could to hide his pain.

"What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" Samantha Kinney asked when she noticed Harry's shifting. Harry took a deep breath and forced a smile.

"I'm just… very warm." he said, taking off his jacket, "That's a lovely necklace." he noted kindly, changing the topic.

Samantha giggled. "Why, thank you. You are so cute." And to Harry's relief, she turned back to her bread plate. Aunt Petunia gave Harry a piercing look and he looked down at his lap before he caused any further trouble.

The night continued on with the Kinney's beginning conversation about Harry then the Dursleys averting the conversation away from him and towards Dudley. Soon enough Robert and Elizabeth had fallen in love with Dudley, or at least with what Uncle Vernon had built him up to be. Even Samantha seemed more interested in him though she still kept a keen eye on Harry; she still had a feeling that something was wrong with him.

She was correct in feeling so, Harry felt so sick he could barely order his food when the waitress arrived. And when she returned with the food, something happened. Maybe it was the smell of the seafood or just the fact that Harry's illness had reached its climax, but at that moment Harry felt an overpowering urge to throw up. He tried to breathe and drink water to help, but the smell of the seafood was unbearable. As if that wasn't enough, his heart was beating out of his chest and he felt like his head was stuck in a very tight clamp.

"Excuse me, Aunt Petunia…may I be excused… to the restroom please?" Harry asked still being polite and trying very hard to cover up his pain.

"Not now, Harry." laughed Aunt Petunia, "The food's only just arrived. You may go in a couple of minutes."

"But it's—"

"I must say your children are the best behaved and most polite I have ever had the pleasure to meet." addressed Mrs. Kinney to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who blushed with pride.

"Dudley is very intelligent and talented as well."

"Why thank you, your highness." Dudley said seriously and stupidly, with a slight bow of his head in respect to the "royalty".

"And Harry is so polite and kind. You really should congratulate yourselves on the fine job you've done with—"

Harry, unable to contain it anymore, vomited all over the lavish red carpet of the restaurant. Then, shaking ever so violently, he collapsed onto the floor and passed out.

Jesse_Longbottom · 11-23-2010, 05:00 AM

like ur story so far keep it up

Star Child · 12-24-2010, 11:18 PM

Great job! I can't wait until your next post

Alexandra Lloyd · 12-25-2010, 01:08 AM

Thanks guys for the positive feedback

Here's the second part of the story.
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When Harry woke up, he saw nothing but darkness and was all alone. As his eyes adapted he realized that he was in his room, lying fully clothed uncomfortably on top of his bed.

“Oh no,” he croaked, “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.” His bright green eyes filled with tears. “I ruined it didn’t I? I absolutely ruined it. Uncle Vernon is gonna be so mad at me. He’s . . . he’s gonna. . . ” Harry tried to sit up but couldn’t. His head hurt more than it already did when he tried, and he lay back down, resting his head on his pillow. He put one hand on his sweaty forehead and the other on his stomach which ached as he did and Harry felt nauseous once again.

“Please, no more.” begged Harry and coincidentally the pain receded and the nausea faded. Very slowly, Harry sat up and rose from his bed, took off his clothing and tucked himself into bed without even putting on pyjamas. “I want my mum.” he said as he turned over. Though it was relatively comfortable concerning the temperature of the room, Harry was freezing and sweating at the same time. He slept in a small cupboard under the stairs with no heat and only a thin blanket to keep him warm.

“I-I want my mummy…” Harry repeated and suddenly the door opened and Harry saw a pretty, pale, skinny woman entered Harry’s bedroom.

“Mum!” squeaked Harry, propping himself up on the pillows. She had jet black hair and loud green eyes, similar to Harry’s.

“Harry, I heard you crying and I came as fast as I could.” she said sitting on the end of Harry’s bed and putting a comforting hand on his leg. “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” answered Harry, “I… I just… I don’t feel well. Actually I feel really, really sick.” Harry was shaking more fiercely than ever. His mother moved up closer on the bed.

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll get through this. Would you like me to stay with you, until you feel better at least?” Harry didn’t answer but continued to shake and since his mother was neither really there, nor alive and was simply a figment of his imagination, she understood that it meant yes.

Harry lay on his stomach, still shaking and wincing in pain, as his mother sat next to him on an imaginary stool, unable to do anything but occasionally touch him comfortingly, which made Harry feel more secure. He really wanted her to sing to him, to hug him, to cuddle with him or at least show him some kind of physical appreciation, but Harry was rubbish at singing and had never experienced a warm hug or a cosy cuddle and couldn’t even imagine it in his dreams.

After about twenty minutes of Harry shuddering and still getting sicker his father came into the small cupboard. He was tall and muscular and handsome with dark hair and green eyes that were exactly like Harry’s.

“What happened? You left about twenty minutes ago! Is Harry all right?” he asked.

“No, he’s in a terrible state, he might even die!” his mother replied in a worried tone similar to the one Aunt Petunia used with Dudley.

“Maybe I should stay with you two, to protect you from anything scary.” His father stood over by the tiny cupboard doorway both feet mounted on the ground, looking like a bouncer at an exclusive club.

Harry smiled faintly at this vision. His parents loved him so much that his mum would stay up with him as long as it took for him to fall asleep, even if that meant almost all night and his father would stand in front of the door protecting him from monsters, even though Harry knew grownups didn’t believe in monsters. And it worked; Harry was slowly able to calm himself down numbing all the pain in every part of his body enough that he could relax and almost fall asleep, until his father spoke up.

“Harry?”

“Mmhmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying… to sleep.” Harry yawned.

“No, I mean what are you doing concerning us?”

Harry paused. “What do you mean?” He asked opening his eyes.

“I mean, we’re not really here and you know that. We both died in a car accident five years ago. You’ve never even seen us before. For all you know we might not even look like this.”

Harry, who had only just begun to relax, was now breathing deeply, as though he was going to cry. “W-why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” he said more seriously this time, “You can't keep doing this. You're getting big now, it's time to grow up and realize what's real and what's not. If you don't... you'll be mad as a hatter when you’re older, and I just can't let that happen.” He helped Harry’s mother up from her stool and they stood together in front of the doorway, ready to leave.

“No… no wait… wait!” yelled Harry. But it was no use. His father had already left the room.

“Sorry, Harry, but it’s for your own good.” his mother said as she followed her husband.

Harry sat in his bed confused and in shock. What the hell was wrong with him? Did he really hate himself so much inside that he couldn’t even pretend to have someone be there for him be there with him when he really needed? Eventually the shock wore off and Harry just felt like crying. And he did. He began to cry hysterically, to the point of no control. He could hardly breathe, and his head was pounding hard again.

“M-mummy! D-daddy! P-please come b-back! I n-need you! P-p-please!” Harry cried. He focused hard and tried to re-imagine them back in his room, but after what his father said to him it was very difficult.

But Harry refused to give up. He tried and tried again and finally he heard a soft and very real voice from outside his door say, “Harry?”

Harry sat up and opened his eyes. “Yes?” he answered, hoping with all his heart that it was someone who heard his cries and came to help.

“Stop making all of that noise.” said the shrill voice of Aunt Petunia, “You’ll wake Dudley.”

“But Aunt Petunia, I’m sick, really sick, and I need someone to help me… Aunt Petunia?” But just like every other time Harry tried to talk to anyone in this family Aunt Petunia walked away, assuming that Harry understood the message she was trying to come across and didn’t care about anything else.

Harry grabbed his pillow and squeezed it hard to prevent himself from screaming. Now, in addition to being very sick and depressed that his parents had left him perhaps forever, Harry felt frustrated that nobody cared and nobody wanted to help him. He gave up, and tried to go back to sleep.

Ruby85 · 01-16-2011, 07:45 PM

pams pams pams!

Sugar_addict · 01-27-2011, 02:17 AM

I really like this, good job!

demented_death_eater · 04-25-2011, 08:44 PM

Last update 24 DEC 2010

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