· Harry Potter: The Power and the Glory
· Summer 1995
Set in the Summer between Harry's 4th and 5th years, the time period being after the Tri-Wizard cup, the first three chapters of JKR's 5th book, The Order of the Phoenix . If you recall, that's the arrival of the Dementor's in Little Whinging, the attack by them on Harry and cousin Dudley. Harry rescues Dudders from their curse, he has received two letters from the Ministry of Magic; one for the offence of underage magic in the presence of a Muggle and the other a Suspension/Expulsion from Hogwarts pending a hearing of the Wizengamot.
So, for my prologue I abbreviate but quote directly from page 38 to 40 of O of the Phoenix with my version of events. Then my story begins.
Now, jump to the films. Due to a delay in the making of 5th film, it is very noticeable that the young actors had very much grown a lot! So, I am taking advantage of this in Harry's case only by building that surge in growth into my story, but not immediately.
Hope those who read it enjoy my thinking!
'But what were Dementoids doing in Little Whinging?' Said Uncle Vernon in an outraged tone.
'I don't know why they were here'. Replied Harry.
'IT's YOU BOY. SOMETHING TO DO WITH YOU!' Vernon Dudley screamed. 'Sent from that infernal weirdo prison. They're after you. Your a criminal on the run, that's what it is!'
'Know I'm not. HE must have sent them, or one of his followers acting for him."
Vernon gave him a puzzled look, then asked
'HE! Who is HE?'
'Lord Vol...hang on. I've heard that name. Isn't he the one who ...'
'Murdered my parents. Yes'
This time, an audible gasp of fright and shock came from another Dursley, Petunia.
'Huh! ... but he's dead! 14yrs ago.
'Not anymore.' Replied Harry. 'He's back. A month ago. I saw him as close to me as you are now. He's back!'
Vernon cut back in, blustering, 'And you reckon he is the one sending these...these... Dismember thingies after you.'
'Looks like it.' Answered Harry.
Vernon seemed to be swelling, his great purple face stretching before Harry's eyes.
'Well, that settles it then. You can get out of this house, boy!'
'What?' said a startled Harry.
'You heard me..OUT!' Uncle Vernon bellowed. 'OUT! OUT! OUT! TODAY.. .NOW! I WANT YOU OUT!'
'But...uncle Vernon...the letters...they state I have to not leave the house. I can't leave. I'm in enough trouble already...
'YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN TROUBLE. ALL THESE YEARS! YOU AND ...AND...YOUR KIND. ALL WEIRDO'S AND FREAKS. We should never have took you in. Bloody orphanage for you, that's where you should have been. Well no longer. I should have done this years ago. You heard me. GET OUT. AND TAKE YOUR BLOODY BIRD WITH YOU. Bloody owls. I have had enough of BLOODY OWLS'.
Harry's own temper was rising now, enough of being screamed at and now insulting Hedwig.
'Don't blame Hedwig. It's not her fault, you fat slob. If you had treated me better you would have had more respect from me, but you have been a fucking shit. All three of you, as a matter of fact. SO LEAVE MY OWL OUT OF IT!'
A large, heavy, clenched fist hit Harry hard on the jaw, knocking him against the worktop, followed by a another heavy punch to his ribs bending him over, then a kick to the knee collapsing him, dropping him to the floor. A kick, then another, took him in the back and ribs in turn.
As a fourth kick was coming his way, suddenly a screeching.'krek-krek' of an attacking raptor was heard across the kitchen as Hedwig came flying through the open kitchen window to her master's defence. A two foot tall owl packs a hefty hit with sharp, finger length claws to back it up. She hit Vernon Dursley full tilt in the face, those claws ripping into his nose, lips and eyes. Her continued screeching was accompanied by howls of pain from Vernon and screams of shock from Petunia Dursley. Dudley was still sitting in his Dementor induced dazed state on a kitchen chair, oblivious to the actions around him. Petunia picked up a frying pan from the shelf, swung it and hit Hedwig hard, knocking the bird back across the island worktop towards the door to the hallway.
Blood streaming down his face, vision obscured from the damage inflicted to one eye and blood covering the other, a roar came from Vernon.
'FUCKING BIRD. I'M GOING TO KILL YOU FOR THAT!'
Harry felt more than heard or saw the assault on Hedwig, but definitely heard the expletive and threat from Vernon. Although hurt and dazed, his instinct to protect his feathered minder and ally and his still own adrenalin fuelled temper from earlier stirred Harry's power. Wandless magic poured from him as he raised his right hand at Vernon Dursley. He was hit full tilt with combined blocking and muggle repelling spells from Harry. He was lifted off his feet, thrown across the kitchen taking out the table and three chairs, slumping against the kitchen door.
'VERNON!' screamed Petunia, and then turned on Harry with the same frying pan. 'YOU FUCKING UNGRATEFUL SHIT. JUST LIKE YOUR HORRIBLE BLOODY FREAK OF A MOTHER!' And hit Harry hard across the face, his nose breaking and dropping him once more to the floor. Barely conscious, he felt the pan hit him again on the knee, the sensation of something snapping and more pain from that region getting through to his dulled senses. As he lay there, he heard a kitchen drawer being opened and the rattle of cutlery. Through pain glazed eyes he saw his aunt pull a large bread knife from the drawer.
'I'll get you proper this time, you freak!' and she raised the knife above him, driving it down into his left shoulder. Harry screamed in agony, reacting instinctively. A hand twitched and pushed against Petunia.
'BOMBARDIA!' Thought Harry.
The little bigoted world that was number 4 Privet Drive, Little Winging exploded, along with Petunia Dursley, into countless, bloody minced pieces. Her husband Vernon, although not in countless pieces, was blown outwards into the rear garden, losing an arm and his head, the assorted bits of him buried amongst the debris. Strangely, Dudley Dursley was left untouched and uninjured, still sitting on the same kitchen chair and still totally oblivious to what was going on around him. Harry Potter had no injuries from the explosion, but those inflicted by the Dursleys's were extremely serious, particularly the stab wound. Realising his situation, both medically and magically, he uttered two small words: