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Harry Potter and the Book of Days	By : Stoeffl Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2171 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated NC-17.

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Chapter One
Snacks and Snakes

All was quiet in number four, Privet Drive at six o'clock in the morning on this special day. The only sounds the Dursleys made was the snoring of Uncle Vernon. They had spent the whole evening hovering around Dudley, making sure that he got everything he wanted before he even knew that he wanted it. The boy didn't even have to move as much as a finger to indicate his wishes because Petunia had watched him like a vulture, interpreting the slightest movement of every hair on her sweetums' head.

If it was even possible, Dudley had gained more weight during the first two weeks of the summer holidays. Although the family doctor had ordered Aunt Petunia to put Dudley on a diet, the stubborn boy threw a tantrum each time his mother tried to approach the subject, and being a good mother, she didn't want to upset her poor child. Therefore she never talked about the doctor's order longer than exactly two minutes.

Uncle Vernon had made it clear what he thought about making diets shortly after Dudley's first tantrum. "Who wants a boy to look like some scarecrow? Our Dudley is a growing young man and needs all the strength he can get," snorted Dudley's equally corpulent father. For him it was no question but a wrong diagnosis by the incapable doctor.

So after spoiling their son for one evening even worse than the former fifteen years, the three of them had got into bed, and the house became soothingly quiet only a short time later. Harry was glad that he finally got the necessary silence for his homework. Unfortunately, he had most of his schoolbooks in his trunk in the cupboard under the stairs. After his try to sneak downstairs and secretly recover some more books had failed disastrously a couple of nights ago, Harry had decided to wait for a better opportunity to retrieve the rest of his school work. He knew it would be quite difficult because since Uncle Vernon had caught him the last time, the man paid close attention and watched every one of Harry's movements suspiciously.

Harry looked up from his assignment for History of Magic to take a glimpse at Hedwig's cage. The soft hoot of the snow owl had caught his attention, breaking his concentration. He smiled at the only friend he had here at Privet drive and put the heavy history book aside slowly and quietly slipped from the bed. Carefully, as not to make any noise, he approached the owl, which looked at him intensely. She moved her head to take a better look at the boy and hooted at him encouragely. Harry had reached the windowsill on which the cage stood and silently opened the window, letting warm air in. He rested his elbows on the sill beside the bird's cage and stared outside into the approaching morning.

He pondered about these holidays, praying that the visit to the Burrow would come soon. Unfortunately, there was only one event that would be soon, all too soon. Actually, it would take place today. Sheer horror came to Harry's mind when thinking about what might happen. If there was anything he could be sure of, then it was that the day would surely end in a catastrophe. It just was not fair that he was always made responsible for everything natural or unnatural happening.

So it was true that three years ago a house elf had shown up at Privet Drive, wreaking havoc in the kitchen, but that had not been Harry's fault. Dobby had tried to stop Harry from going to Hogwarts, knowing that great evil awaited him and, as it turned out later, the whole school.

The summer after that, Harry had sent his ‘aunt' levitating on the kitchen ceiling, though he had tried very hard all the days before not to cause her any harm. The unfriendly and horrible woman had insulted him to no end, and Harry had endured all of it, never complaining, although it wouldn't have helped him any. But when she started to insult his dead parents, he had no longer been able to contain himself. So he actually was to blame for this incident, and his uncle had reminded him of his little slip constantly for the last two weeks. He knew that if he wanted to survive till his stay with the Weasleys, he had to keep low and in control.

So far, nothing strange had happened, and even Hedwig had tried to remain silent. Harry hoped that he would be able to make it through this special day without any problems. Still, he knew that today was going to be a demanding test of his patience, endurance, and will power.

Harry left the window open when he returned to his bed and his unfinished homework. The half empty scroll seemed to glare at him accusingly, reminding him of all the work that had still to be done, and he hadn't even started yet. He carefully sat down on the crumpled blanket and took the book once more, finishing the paragraph about a German wizard who had lived in the sixteenth century. The wizard had repeatedly had intercourse with Muggles, never casting an Obliviatus charm to keep them from suspecting and panicking. This had gone so far as that some writer had published a collection of twelve stories telling about the life and doings of the strange man.
Having reread the paragraph, Harry started to summarize it, trying to find a tie to the rest of his text.

He liked the topic of this assignment. Professor Binns had for once been able to teach something of interest. The idea to search for incidents where witches or wizards had openly used their powers in front of Muggles without making them forget was quite a challenge. It was best to read Muggle history books, and whenever a ‘wizard' or a ‘witch' was mentioned, he would look them up in his school books. So far he had been able to find seven witches and wizards, but the most interesting by far was the German he had read about now.

Harry concluded his assignment, adding a last paragraph about his opinion of the topic and how he had done his research. Having finally finished the homework, he hid the book, the scroll, and the quill with the ink bottle under a lose floor board under his bed. Looking at the old and worn clock on his bedside table, he realized to his horror that it was a quarter to seven already, which meant that he had to dress and wash, and start breakfast. Aunt Petunia had made it very clear the previous evening that everything had better be prepared and perfect by the time they got up, which would be at eight o'clock.

Harry walked to the cupboard with his clothes. Well, they weren't really his; they were Dudley's old ones, but that was all he had. Harry hated wearing them because they made him look stupid. They were far too big for him, considering Dudley's impressive weight and Harry's thin frame. Digging through the oversized, hand-me-down clothes he grabbed a t-shirt, trousers, and a very old pair of socks.

He put them on and decided once more that he hated life with the Dursleys. Having finished dressing, he took a look at himself in the mirror opposite his bed. The t-shirt hung very loosely on his thin form and looked like it had recently been worn by an elephant, the grey colour of it adding to the appearance. Scowling at his reflection, he quietly turned for the door and headed to the bathroom.

The kitchen was gloomy and silent when Harry entered it. It was time to start preparing breakfast if he wanted to have it finished right in time. He laid the table with the family silver, polishing some pieces which didn't sparkle enough for his, or rather for Aunt Petunia's liking. The beautiful silver had belonged to Aunt Petunia's parents, Harry's grandparents, and when they had died, she had had inherited it. Somehow it felt wrong that the horrible woman had gotten what had rightfully been his mother's. Taking a last glimpse at the table, Harry went to the living room.

In the big cupboard were the Sunday dishes, and he carefully carried the plates and cups to the breakfast table. The white china looked so soft and smooth, and he feared marring any of it.
After setting the table, Harry filled the kettle with water and put it on a hotplate. He searched the fridge for food and found a variety of different fruit-juices. Apparently, Aunt Petunia hadn't given up her attempts to put Dudley on a diet. Harry took the ham and several eggs, put the large frying pan on another hotplate, and melted some fat for the ham. In the meantime, Harry put several half-baked rolls into the oven and turned it on. When the fat had melted, he fried the ham and added the eggs, scrambling them. When he put the pan aside, the kettle started to whistle, announcing that the water had started to boil. Harry poured the steamy liquid into the china teapot and added the tea to it. After eight minutes the rolls had finished, and he carefully took them out of the oven and put them into a small bowl. He carried the rolls and the ham with the eggs to the table. When the tea had finished, Harry set it next to the other food, together with a jug of orange juice.

Only three minutes later the slamming of a door could be heard, accompanied by a thunderous trample down the stairs and to the kitchen. The door was thrown open, and an incredible mass of a boy stormed into the room followed by an equally heavy-set man and a thin blonde woman. The three of them sat down at the table, not even sparing Harry a glance. Uncle Vernon and his wife fussed about their son, hugging him, and Aunt Petunia kissed him on his head at least seven times. She was all nervous, and she even forgot tell yell at Harry for forgetting to add some cheese to the eggs.

"Oh, my big boy is going to become sixteen today. Look what a beautiful fellow he's become," babbled Aunt Petunia, never ceasing to proudly watch her son as he stuffed himself with food. A happy smile played around the corners of her mouth when she saw the healthy appetite her son had.

Uncle Vernon chuckled lowly and stopped his eating to look appraisingly at his son. "Yes, indeed. Our Dudley is a man, now, and a fine young man he is."

Harry tried hard not to shake his head in denial. He simply couldn't understand what should be beautiful or fine about his cousin. Silently, he ate a roll and drank some tea, waiting for Dudley's first tantrum of the day. He was not disappointed for long. When Harry washed the dishes and cleaned the breakfast table and the kitchen, he could heard Dudley scream and shout. Curious what had been the cause this time, he edged closer to the living room door and listened to the voices.

"Why can't you just lock him in his room? I don't want him to be at my birthday party," Dudley shouted angrily. So that was the reason for the recent tumult. Harry sighed tiredly and returned to the kitchen and the work waiting there. When he had finished the chores, he made his way back to his room. He was about to pass the living room door when it suddenly opened, and a large fat hand grabbed at his collar, all but throwing him inside the room. Confused, Harry faced an angry Uncle Vernon.

"Listen, and listen closely, because I'm only going to tell you this once. At the party this afternoon you will do nothing, absolutely nothing to embarrass us or your cousin," the fat man hissed. "You will stay out of trouble and pretend to be normal for a change. No funny business, no talking about that school of yours, and if anybody should ask you a question concerning anything from the topics I just mentioned, you'll pretend to be mentally slow. I'm sure you can do that."

Dudley forgot to sulk and snickered about the last comment.

"Am I supposed to go to St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys again?" Harry asked exasperatedly. The last time Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister, had visited them, he had to tell her that he had to attend this school.

Uncle Vernon looked at him cautiously and answered, "Well, of course you will; after all, we have told most of our relatives and friends that that's where you are going, so we have to stick to the story. The other thing I have to tell you is that your aunt, Dudley, and I are going to pick up most of the boys, and we still have to buy one more present for our dear Dudley boy, so you'll have to stay here on your own for some hours. I don't like this, not at all, but there's nothing I can do about it, because if we take you with us there'll be not enough room for the guests. If anything is not how it's supposed to be when we come back, you can be sure that you'll spend the rest of your holidays in your room without food till those rotten friends of yours pick you up."

Harry nodded and turned round, exiting the living room. He entered his room and brought Hedwig crumbs from the breakfast and refilled her water cup. Silently, he watched her eating her meagre breakfast without any complaint. He stroked the cage and smiled at the owl encouragingly. "Sorry, I know that's not a lot to eat, but they are going to leave soon, and then I'll go see if I can find some more for you," Harry apologized to Hedwig.

At long last he had the chance to get the rest of his school books, and he would be able to get his Firebolt. The Racing Broom needed some polishing. It had been locked up in this dusty cupboard for too long. Harry moved to the bed and knelt down to get to the loosened floorboard under which he hid his belongings and the letters from his friends. He retrieved the last one Ron had sent him and settled down on his unmade bed to reread it once more.

Dear Harry,

I hope you're faring well. Although my Dad showed me how to use the telephone properly, I decided it would be best if I send you an owl. Who knows what your uncle will do if I call you at your place. The last time, he freaked out, and I don't want you to get into any trouble.

There's something I have to tell you. Guess what? Bill is going to stay this summer with us at the Burrow. If I got it right, it's because of something with Dumbledore and You-Know-Who. Well, actually I know nothing, but I heard one or two things when they thought I couldn't, and it was mighty important stuff they were talking about. One morning I thought I was having a bad nightmare when I entered the kitchen and Professor Snape was standing in the middle of the room. The greasy bastard sneered at me but ignored me anyway. Yuck, teachers coming to our house in the holidays.

Hopefully, that won't happen again anytime soon, and in two and a half weeks you'll come to the Burrow. Then I have to show you George's and Fred's joke shop. They bought a small shop in Diagon Alley with the money you gave to them, and it's a hit. People love their stuff, and after the first week they already had earned more money than they had to pay for the shop and the ingredients for the items. Looks like they'll make big money.

Hermione said that she'll probably only be able to come to the Burrow in the last week of our holidays because her parents are going with her to Japan for a month, and afterward they'll visit her grandparents in Exeter. I'd love to see Japan, but I guess I'll have to wait for a long time till I can do something like that, if not all of us gonna get killed by You-Know-Who.

Anyway, I wanted to make sure you're okay and the Dursleys aren't treating you too bad. Hope the remaining weeks will pass soon, and hugs from me and Ginny.

Ron

P.S.: Bill tells me to send his greetings

Harry folded the letter and put it back into its envelope. He couldn't wait to meet Bill again. The long-haired red-head was the coolest person he knew, wearing an earring with a fang attached to it. The oldest Weasley brother worked as a curse-breaker for the wizard's bank, Gringotts, and Harry hoped that he would tell him about his job and about the countries he had been to. He anxiously waited for the two and the half weeks to be over.

Harry hid the letter once more under the board and went to the door, listening to the noises downstairs. It sounded like the Dursleys were finally preparing to leave, and he waited for them to shut the front door. When Harry was sure that his relatives had left, he walked downstairs, heading for the kitchen. His search for some more food for Hedwig was successful, and soon after he returned with a cup filled with cornflakes and three slices of ham. Making sure that his owl ate the food he had brought her, he watched her for some minutes before he returned downstairs. Harry opened the cupboard and searched in his trunk for the schoolbooks he needed. Retrieving all the things he needed, he at last took his broom and the Broomstick Servicing Kit with him to his room.

He hid the new books under the loose floorboard and sat on the floor to polish his Firebolt. The beautiful broom was all dusty, and at some places spiders had chosen to hide in the twigs. Harry sighed tiredly but continued the work. He loved the smell of the handle polish; it always reminded him of playing Quidditch at Hogwarts. He missed the old school and the activities during the school year. But most of all he missed all his friends, the persons he loved.

He got so lost in his current work that he didn't realize how much time had gone by and was very surprised when he suddenly heard voices at the front door. Quickly, he hid his broom behind the door and the Servicing Kit under the board and made his way downstairs, to the source of all the noises. He found Dudley in the living room with four school mates of his. All four of them looked rude and distrustful. Harry decided it would better if he avoided catching their attention, and he was about to leave for the kitchen to help Aunt Petunia with the food and the drinks when one of the boys saw him.

"Hey, who are you?" barked the boy. He sounded very much like Uncle Vernon, and he was obviously the leader of this little group of theirs. He was quite tall and massive, but not in the same way as Dudley. His whole body was heavy built and very intimidating. He had had a shock of brown hair and angry little eyes. He eyed Harry suspiciously.

Dudley watched the scene with anticipation. He loved the look in his friend's eyes. "Mart, that's Harry, my cousin who lives with us."

Mart, the bully, Harry decided for himself, seemed to look for any sign of Harry trying to challenge him, and when the thin boy didn't show any attempt to do so, he lost his interest and started to order the others around once again, ignoring Harry completely.

Harry went to the kitchen and found his aunt all busy and hectic, fighting with the mixer. "Stupid thing won't work," she sneered. Her face lit up with glee when she saw Harry hovering at the kitchen door. "Come here boy. The mixer doesn't work, so you'll whip the cream for me." She shoved the bowl with the cream at him and handed him a egg-beater.

He sat down at the kitchen table and started to whip the cream. He watched her filling a tray with plates, glasses, spoons, and a jug of lemonade and carry all of it outside to the garden where his uncle had put up a table and several chairs. She returned to the kitchen and walked to the living room. Moments later, the five Smelton boys walked into the garden, laughing about Harry, and took their seats, waiting to be served.

"Hurry boy, the cream has to be served with the cake," Aunt Petunia snapped at him. She took the plate with the cake and shot Harry an angry look as she exited the room.

A minute later, Harry finished whipping the cream and brought it outside to the table. The others paid him no attention, for which Harry was very grateful; he had no desire to talk to any of these numbskulls. He sat down next to the terrace door and watched the display of five boys stuffing themselves with cake and two adults grinning stupidly at everything they did. His aunt was so happy about her baby's birthday party and his nice friends. She was hovering around the table and watching the group like a hawk looking for any discomfort in any of them. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at seeing all the fuss made about these bullies, but he decided to keep in the background.

After everybody had finished eating their piece - or pieces - of cake, the five Smeltons got up from their chairs and made their way back to the house, talking about the Playstation Two and the new games that Dudley had got for his birthday. When Mart approached the door, he stopped at the sight of Harry sitting next to it. He stared down at Harry and scowled when he saw that the other wasn't intimidated by his stance. Suddenly he kicked at the wall next to Harry, hitting the bush growing there with full force. Harry didn't so much as flinch, not even looking up at his opponent.

"A snake!" rang the loud, hysteric scream from Dudley, who ran back to the table to hide behind his mother's back. His cousin had never got over the incident at the zoo at his birthday five years ago. He was terrified of snakes and lost it completely whenever he saw one. The other four boys backed away from the serpent, which had obviously been aroused by Mart's kick at the bush. The snake approached Harry and took a close look at him.

"Hey, don't worry. They don't mean any harm to you; they're too afraid of you to try anything," Harry assured the serpent. "Are you okay?" It nodded and looked from Harry to the rest of the humans and back. "Go on, hide somewhere else, so they can't find you," he advised it and watched the snake taking her leave, disappearing through a hole in the garden fence.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Harry at his shirt and dragged him inside and upstairs to his room.

Uncle Vernon was fuming, shouting at him, "What do you think you're doing, making this snake attack the boys? You know what this stunt you pulled means. You'll stay in this room, no food, no leaving it, till those freaks come for you. I warned you, but you chose to ignore it."

Harry gaped at his uncle, not knowing how to respond to these accusations. "But I told it to go away. It only attacked because that bully friend of Dudley's kicked at the bush she was hiding under," he tried to explain, but there was no way uncle Vernon would listen to anything he said.

The door was slammed shut and locked from the outside. Harry threw himself down on his bed and closed his eyes tiredly. He sighed heavily and wished for his stay at the Burrow to come soon.
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Harry Potter and the Book of Days