Hi! My name is Rebecca and this is my first fanfiction. This story takes place in 1989. In this story, the ages and relationships of characters will be a little skewed because it is most definitely AU. At the end of the chapter in which you meet them, I will give a short bio just to make it easier to understand. It will be helpful for later chapters, specifically NCIS characters, more than this one. Also, at the beginning of each chapter, I will write whose POV it is. Usually, it will be either Harry or Kelly. However, it might change. Any reviews are welcome. Thanks and I hope that you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or NCIS
I wake up to Aunt Petunia hissing into my ear, "Get up and get breakfast on, you freak." I haven't moved yet, so she takes it upon herself to make sure that I'm awake and listening to her demands. She slaps my face, hard, and during my moment of numbness she uses her long, manicured nails to peel back my eyelids.
I shoot straight up and hit my head on the cupboard ceiling. Wincing, I rub the top of my head.
"Freaks," she mumbles to herself. "Always so clumsy." Looking back at me, she continues, "We have to be at the airport soon, so none of your funny business."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," I nod and get up quickly so that she doesn't have an excuse to slap me again. She retracts her head from my cupboard door and I pull on some clothes. I forgot that today was the day when we were moving to America for a year. Uncle Vernon had decided that it would be a good business move if we moved to America for just one year.
The day that we found out about the business venture, I was dusting in the kitchen when Uncle Vernon came home from work. He barged into the house and Aunt Petunia ran to him, fussing over his wet coat and umbrella. She thrust the umbrella towards me. I abandoned my dusting to wring the water from it.
Uncle Vernon was grinning broadly and he seemed to be in a good mood.
"How was your day, sweetie?" Aunt Petunia asked.
"I have good news. Call Dudley down here, I want him to be here as well," Uncle Vernon replied.
"Dinky Duddydums, come down here, darling," Aunt Petunia called up.
"I don't want to," Dudley yelled back down. "I still have to finish up this program on the television."
Uncle Vernon chuckled, "Come here, boy. You can finish the program later. Harry will even make you some bacon. Won't you, boy?" Here he looked at me, gesturing towards the kitchen. Obviously, I wasn't allowed into their family conversation.
I could still hear them as I turned the burner on and Dudley waddled down the stairs. "Yes, Dad? What is it?"
"Good boy, getting straight to the point. That will get you far in life, unlike the freak over here," he added with a sick smile. "Anyway, Dudley, Petunia, I have decided to expand Grunnings into America. We will be moving there for one year to start up the company and then we will return. Those Yanks, they're stupid, but still pay good money. Pack your things; we will be leaving in three weeks, on July 17th. We will keep the house here. I don't want anyone else using it. Anyway, we'll have enough money after this. Go, start packing," Uncle Vernon ordered.
"Wait, dear," Aunt Petunia began. "What about the freak? Will he be coming with us?"
At her mention of me, I remembered the bacon that I was supposed to be frying. The smell of burnt bacon wafted up into my nose. Then, the smoke rose from the pan. I quickly pulled the pan off the hot burner and tried to salvage a few pieces. Dudley and Uncle Vernon, like the pigs they are, smelled the burning bacon.
Uncle Vernon crashed into the kitchen, "Freak, you burnt our bacon!" He grabbed my hand and held it onto the hot burner. I gasped in pain and tried not to cry, but a 9-year-old can only handle so much pain. The tears leaked from my eyes and sizzled as they fell. At last, Uncle Vernon let my hand go. He shoved me to the ground and walked back into the living room without saying anything else. There were bright red circular burn marks on my hand and it hurt horribly, but even with that I still managed to understand the rest of the conversation.
"Sorry, dear, what was that?" He asked Aunt Petunia when he went back in. His face was in a twisted smile.
She turned to him and smirked, "I was just wondering where the freak would go when we left."
"We'll need someone to do our housework, won't we?" He chuckled. "Yes, I think that it will be best if we bring him. I'm sure that there will be people that we can make take him for some time."
"Dad," Dudley whined. "Can I have two rooms?"
"Of course, sweetums," Aunt Petunia answered instead.
"Now," Uncle Vernon ordered. "Tomorrow, we start packing the rooms. Not everything has to go, but just the things that you'll want for the next year. We can visit once or twice, I suppose."
Over the next three weeks, we (or mostly I) have been packing all of the rooms. Dudley screamed at me when I tried to take away his televisions, computer, and other games. He had cried and thrown a tantrum until Uncle Vernon had burst into the room carrying a rifle.
He almost shot me, but Aunt Petunia stopped him at the last moment, saying that if he did, they would have to take me to the hospital. Plus, the neighbors might talk. Instead, I had curled up in the corner as he hit me with the gun over and over again, until I was entirely black and blue.
For about a week after Uncle Vernon burnt my hand, every time I brushed against something or bent it, it hurt. But when he hit me with the gun, the pain became unbearable. The strangest thing happened; the next day, my hand was fine. Not perfect or without scars, but I could use it. And the bruises, while not entirely gone, had skipped a few steps and gone straight to being a sick yellow rather than staying black and blue. I didn't tell anyone because it was freakiness, but that was when I realized that being a freak maybe isn't all bad.
Today, I have to pack all of Dudley's things up quickly before we had to go. Even though I'm going with the Dursleys, I'm excited for America. Hopefully, I can find a place to go to get away from them. Maybe Dudley won't have a gang next year. But… he always has friends because he's a good boy. I'll try not to get in trouble next year, and then maybe I can have friends.
I think about what can happen as I cook breakfast for everyone. I can hear Aunt Petunia fussing over Dudley upstairs, telling him how handsome he looks in his polo shirt and pants.
A few hours later, we leave Number 4 Privet Drive and arrive at the airport. I've never been to the airport before. It's huge and very busy. Everyone seems like they have somewhere to go. I guess they do, but it is weird to see the hundreds of people running all over the building. We pass through baggage claim, security, customs, and finally get to the plane. We board it and I get pushed against the window in the last row. Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley are sitting in business class. They go up front after telling me not to do anything funny on the way there or else I'll regret it later.
I nod and curl up in a ball. The flight passes quickly; I sleep and just stare out the window. I never knew that the clouds and sky could be so beautiful. A few hours later, I start to get antsy. The lady next to me reminds me of Aunt Marge. She glares at me and hisses in my ear, "Stop fidgeting, young man! Didn't your parents teach you anything?"
I cringe, pulling back into my seat. I don't move for the rest of the flight. Soon, bells ding and a voice comes on in the overhead.
"Ladies and gentlemen," it begins. "Please make sure your seatbelts are securely fastened across your lap and your seats are in the full upright position. We are beginning our descent into Washington."
About 20 minutes later, I hear a crunch. The plane has hit ground. I hear a sweet voice coming from the intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Washington D.C.!"
That was the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed! I will try to update at least once a week, but it may not happen. Anyway, onto the quick bios:
Harry Potter: Age 9, son of Lily and James Potter who died in a 'car crash', lives with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley, called a freak and beat up by his cousin
Vernon Dursley: Age 37, Husband to Petunia Dursley, father of Dudley Dursley, uncle of Harry Potter, Director of Grunnings and wants to expand into the US
Petunia Dursley: Age 32, Wife of Vernon Dursley, mother of Dudley Dursley, aunt of Harry Potter and sister of Lily Potter, stay-at-home mom, loves order and a clean house
Dudley Dursley: Age 9, son of Petunia and Vernon Dursley, cousin to Harry Potter, loves to get with his gang and beat up his cousin, spoiled by his parents