So here is my first story I've ever bothered to type up. I'm an avid reader of just about anything fantasy related, and Harry Potter fan fiction are my favorite. I've been disappointed with the amount of stores related to magical tattoos, and so I spontaneously decided this morning to write my own.
This is a prequel of sorts, to cover the time before Harry goes to Hogwarts. It will skip around, and the chapters will be short but many.
Disclaimer: If I owned it, I wouldn't be putting this here. I'd be publishing it for tons of money.
An excerpt from "Memorable Muggle Mornings: the Undercover Wizard."
"Today, at exactly six oclock a.m., I rose and made some tea. My lovely cat, Purniskus, purred for some milk which I graciously granted her. The Muggle life is so peaceful! No clattering pots spellbound whisking about the room, no hoity toity Wizarding owls swooping in at all times of day. I miss cleaning spells the most, but with me alone not much mess is made. If one is careful, as I am of course! You can go complete weeks without lifting a cleaning finger, and such wonderful devices these Muggles have made to clean for you! Have you ever heard of a dishwasher? Wonderful Invention! Came from America in the…"
A young black haired boy watched silently through the slats in the cupboard door as two men cam stomping heavily in holding a big cardboard box between them. His uncle has been very specific: "Stay silent, and NO FUNNY BUSINESS!" before slamming and bolting the small door.
His family, The Dursleys, consisted of his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son Dudley. He just called them Uncle and Aunt and sir and ma'am and Dudley, and knew enough to stay out of their way. He wasn't normal, and his Uncle often just called him freak, because he was different from them. He was different because his parents had died when he was a baby, and they were taking him in from the kindness of their hearts, and sometimes he would wish really hard and things would happen. Things that normally warranted a good thrashing from his Uncle and shrieks from his Aunt.
Which brought him to the men coming back and forth outside of his door. Last week he had been cleaning the kitchen floor when his cousin Dudley had purposefully shoved him into the table, and his arm had turned bad and hurt a lot. Right when he felt the pain there was this loud shattering noise and the smell of smoke, and when his Aunt came running in she saw her poor son huddled on the floor, with every dish in the cabinets shattered and smoke coming from all the appliances.
His Uncle had been furious. He had been expecting to purchase a new car soon, and fixing the damage was going to set him back by months. Since then his cousin hadn't come near him, a good thing, but He was worried. His Uncle hadn't even touched him since the accident, and he had no idea what was going to happen.
The men left the house with a cheerful farewell several hours later, and his Uncle came over and unlatched his door and dragged him out by the arm.
"Go clean the Kitchen, and be quick about it!" His Uncle snarled before stomping into the Living Room.
Harry trudged over to the kitchen, looking over the dust and boxes and slowly began cleaning, favoring his sore left arm. The cabinets were fixed, and a nice new stove and dishwasher were gleaming in their spots. He moved the boxes they had come in over to the side while he swept the floor and counters, then carefully peaked out into the Living Room at his Uncle.
"Sir, I'm finished, sir." Harry spoke carefully. His Uncle looked up, then an odd smile spread across his face. He stomped into the kitchen, looked around, and grabbed the box the dishwasher had come in and put it by the back door.
"Well, freak, I bet you've been wondering why you haven't been punished yet for your little stunt. Your Aunt and I have decided we've had enough of you and your freakiness, and we've found a women who wants someone to clean her house for her. That's about all your good for, and shes going to pay us nicely. Now I don't want anyone to see you, weird looking as you are and respectable people we are, might give the neighbors bad ideas. Get in that box!" He snapped out the last bit and kicked his foot towards Harry, who quickly scampered into the large dishwasher box only to have it closed and sealed over his head.
He was no stranger to small dark places; having grew up in the cupboard under the stairs… and the idea of leaving the Dursleys gave him a warm feeling. Maybe this new woman would be nice, and have cookies like Mrs. Figg across the street. He might even get a room of his own!
It was with only a small bit of trepidation that he felt the box being dragged over to the car.
"Hi Mr. Dursley! You get a new dishwasher? I heard that new model over at Blake's was very nice. You need any help?" The voice came from the right, where their neighbor at Number 5 lived.
"Hmh, umph, well, a little help getting this into the back would be nice, Its heavier then I expected! Put some old beaten-in pots in here to carry them over to the dump." His Uncle sounded slightly nervous.
He felt himself suddenly elevated then fell over as he was pushed forward roughly into the back of the car. Then there was a slam, some muffled voices, and he felt the car moving forward. He couldn't help but be happy to be leaving his childhood home. Never once did he think his Uncle was lying, or consider the legality of giving a child away.
When the car suddenly braked and came to a halt, Harry had been drifting off to sleep. He heard the trunk open, and was in no way prepared for a sudden drop and the pain of hitting hard pavement. He dizzily listened as the trunk was closed, but instead of the flap being opened he instead heard tires squeal as a car sped off. He beat on the side of the box, his soft calls soon turning into frenzied yells. He scratched and pulled at the cardboard and beat at the top, but it was completely sealed shut. Where was he? Was he going to die? What happened? Harry's voice had turned hoarse and was barely over a whisper when he heard sounds outside.
"Hey, look, some new boxes!" "Really?" "Hey, stop it!" "Guys come back, we aint gotta go scruffing through boxes anymore!" "But we might get something good, and something extra cant hurt!" The last voice was very close, and in excitement Harry rammed the side of the box and beat the sides.
"There something in here!" "Yeah I heard it!" "Open it!" "Maybe it's a dog!" "Hurry Up!" Tearing sounds came from the Box, and sudden light blinded Harry who quickly ducked down and covered his head.
"Woah!" "Let me see!" "It's a kid!" "A Baby?" "No, He's little though…." "Wow…" "What should we do?" "Get out of the way, let me see!" "That is not a dishwasher..." Harry slowly cracked open his eyes, and squinted up at several dark blobs over his head.
"Um, Hi. Um, where, where am I?"