The Family Who Lived

Aunt Marge's Visit

Late one summer night, at number 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter was sitting up in bed with a quill, an ink pot, and a large book by the name of A History of Magic. With the other inhabitants of his home highly disapproving of him and his peculiarity, he had no other option than to do his school work at night, or rather when they weren't around to fix him with a disgusted glare.
Harry Potter did not receive this type of attitude everywhere, though. No, it was quite the opposite. Two years ago, he discovered that he was the son of two very powerful wizards, Lily and James Potter, who were murdered by the most feared dark wizard of all, Lord Voldemort. He was so feared in fact, that most people refused to say his name, calling him instead "You-Know-Who," or "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." But Harry was different. He was not afraid to speak the dreaded name, because of no other reason than the fact that Lord Voldemort attempted to murder Harry when he was no older than one year old. The curse rebounded, instead fixing itself onto Voldemort himself, and he hasn't been seen since.
This is why the Dursleys despise him, but also the reason why Wizards and Witches all over the world know his name. When Harry first arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was surprised to see people stopping midway through the corridors to gawk at his forehead, where a lightning scar holding the memories from that horrid night was embedded into his skin. He was surprised at the reactions he got when he first introduced himself to his current best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They recovered from being in his presence quicker than the other students did. Although most people there treated him better than the Dursleys, there was one student and his sidekicks that the trio had immediately disliked from the moment they saw him. Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin in their year, continuously taunted Harry and his friends. Harry thought him nothing but a foul stuck-up who was heading towards the Dark Arts.
Harry looked over at the clock, and seeing  it read one o'clock in the morning, he decided he would get some sleep. But before he could get ready for bed, he let his eyes stray to the picture frame that held a moving photograph of a happy couple dancing outside in the snow. The man was wearing round glasses, and had dark untidy hair, much like his own. And the woman had flaming red hair paired with a pair of brilliantly green eyes that weren't much different from his. These two people were Lily and James Potter, his parents who he missed so much. But little did he know, miles away at the house in Godric's Hollow that has been untouched for nearly 12 years, something was stirring, awakening after such a long time.
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"Harry! Harry! HARRY!" Howled Uncle Vernon. "Why are you not up! Marge will be here in no more than twenty minutes!" He all but screamed into Harry's ear. Rolling over to peer at his clock, he realized that sleep got the better of him and he ignored the echoing ring of the alarm that goes off every morning at exactly eight o'clock, as it was now a quarter 'till ten.
He sighed, wrenching the bedsheets off himself as he rolled out of bed. Slowly so that he wouldn't fall over, he walked to his closet and pulled out some over sized clothes for the day. After throwing those on, he went downstairs and began cooking himself and the others eggs and bacon. Just as the toast popped up, Uncle Vernon announced that he was leaving to pick up Marge from the station. Good, Harry thought. Maybe if I eat quick enough, they won't notice if I slip back upstairs before she arrives...
He served Aunt Petunia and Dudley their meal, saving some for himself before he began scarfing it down.
"What's your hurry, boy?" Aunt Petunia said suspiciously, as Harry had the last forkful halfway to his mouth when Dudley took the first bite out of his toast.
Instead of responding right away, he shoved the rest of the food into his mouth. After taking an unreasonable amount of time to chew, he finally responded.
"Err, I forgot to clean the bathroom..." He lied, hoping she wouldn't notice. She gave him a horrified look, acting as if he had announced he was a wizard to the whole neighborhood before thrusting her hand towards the doorway.
"Well, go on then, get it cleaned!" She barked, and Harry gratefully retreated upstairs.

It was dinnertime, and Harry was cleaning up the last of their plates. A couple feet away, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were in deep conversation while Dudley crammed huge pieces of pie into his mouth, his eyes glued to the television set. He placed the last of the dinner plates in the dishwasher and made to go sit down again, when Marge handed him another plate. Holding in a sigh, he took it and threw away its contents, though there weren't many left, before rinsing it off and putting it in the dishwasher too. He walked back to the table, sat down and began taking a sip of his water when Marge prodded him with her spoon. She held out the plate her piece of pie was on, which Harry could've sworn she ate quickly just so he would have to get up again. As she was still talking to Uncle Vernon and he didn't think she'd hear, he sighed heavily before standing up. She turned her head towards him, fixing him with a glare.
"Don't give me that kind of attitude! Useless, he is, Vernon. Won't even take the plate," She snapped, thrusting the plate at him once more. When she turned her head back he glared at her menacingly, then took the plate to the sink. While washing it off, he heard a new conversation start.
"What is it the boys father did?" Marge suddenly asked. Uncle Vernon stopped eating and looked at Aunt Petunia before glancing at Harry.
"He was unemployed. Didn't have a job," Uncle Vernon said abruptly. Whatever, Harry thought. As long as they drop it there...
But they didn't. Marge seemed entirely determined to talk about Harry's parents, and anything else that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia brought up was ushered out of the conversation.
"Just what I thought. Probably a lousy runt, too lazy to do anything- or there was probably nothing he was good at!" She exclaimed with a boisterous laugh. She's doing it on purpose, Harry, just forget it. But she didn't stop there. She went on to insult his mother, sending looks of pity to Aunt Petunia every so often. Eventually, Harry couldn't take it anymore.
"Shut up! Shut up!" He yelled, and everyone turned to look at him, even Dudley, who had payed attention to nothing but his food and the tv the whole evening.
"What's that you said to me boy?" She scolded, smirking at him, but he didn't care anymore.
"I said shut up about my parents!" He snarled, staring her straight in the face. She raised a pudgy little finger, prepared to retort, but stopped before any sound could leave her lips. Harry, fuming, didn't realize what was going on for the first few second of chaos. Marge's eyes widened, Aunt Petunia screamed, and Uncle Vernon jumped out of his chair in shock. Marge's finger was swelling, and in the couple seconds that she raised her hand, became the size of a water balloon. He watched as her whole body inflated, and her chair started to creak before splitting in half. Slowly, she began to rise up into the air, rotating slightly forward. Harry was sure her screams could've been heard at Hogwarts.
While everyone was bustling about, he slipped out of the room and upstairs. He hurriedly grabbed his trunk, filled it with all his school stuff, and ran back downstairs, dragging it noisily behind him. Uncle Vernon busted into the room.
"HARRY POTTER, get back here right now!" He roared. Harry ignored him and started for the front door, but Uncle Vernon grabbed his shirt. "You bring her back!"
"No!" Harry raged.
"Excuse me, boy?" He more yelled than asked.
"I said no! She deserved it!" Uncle Vernon made to put his hands around Harry's neck, but Harry pointed his wand at his face. "Touch me and you'll end up the same," He fumed. Uncle Vernon flinched in the slightest bit.
"You can't use magic outside of school!" He sang tauntingly. But Harry, who already expected to be expelled, didn't care, and wrenched the door open. He started down the street, trunk rolling madly behind him. He only stopped when he could no longer hear Marge's screams, and sat on the curb in front of a park.
He was thinking what on earth he was supposed to do, when he suddenly felt like he was being watched. He looked up and saw gleaming eyes peering out of a bush, and before he knew it he was on his feet, wand out in front of him. Before he even thought of a spell to cast, a loud crack echoed down the street followed by the blinding light of a three story bus. Harry snapped his attention back to where he saw the eyes, only to find the space empty.
Harry examined the bus, which was a violent tone of purple, when a young man with many pimples jumped off the bus, and began reading from a piece of parchment. After a very long explanation and introduction from a guy named Stan Shunpike, Harry discovered that this was The Knight Bus. Harry skeptically climbed aboard, and told them he needed to get to Diagon Alley, and before he knew it, the bus shot off again.

Hey everyone! This is my new story, I hope you like it! Please give feedback and ideas if you would like! I will be going into more detail on the plot of the story next chapter, so bear with me :) (This is the third book by the way, and because I'm not writing a completely new storyline, the scenes from POA will make a lot of appearances, even if they don't make much sense to my plot.)