Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew and niece on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets -but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The
room held no sign at all that another boy and another girl lived in the house, too.

Yet Harry Potter and Harriet Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long.

His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day. "Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched.

Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one.

There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before. He turned to look at his sister who was still fast asleep. Apparently, Aunt Petunia's shouts could not even make her stir. Harry sighed. His aunt was back outside the door.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Harry groaned.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..." Dudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept and alongside his sister.

"Is Harriet up yet?" came aunt Petunia's voice again.

"No she isn't." replied Harry.

"Wake her up! Honestly, the way she sleeps!" muttered his aunt. "Or you go do what you're told. I'll wake her."

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. Harry could hear his aunt's and sister's voice from under the stairs.

"Up! Get up! Won't you wake up? I said wake up!" came the loud voice of his aunt followed by hard bangs on the cupboard.

"Honestly woman, do you really have to wake me up now?" muttered Harriet as she woke up with a groan.

"What did you say?" Petunia snapped once again, the same way she did to Harry.

"Oh I was just telling how sweet of you it was to wake me up right now, Aunt Tunie." came her sarcastic voice from inside.

"Whatever. Get a move, today's Dudley's birthday and I don't want you to spoil it. Go, and prepare the food after your brother is done with the bacon." said her aunt.

"Give me a minute, auntie. Honestly, how do you expect a normal human being to get ready in a second? Unless you're asking me not to be normal, that is." came Henrietta's reply.

Aunt Petunia grumbled something under her breath. "Fine, but don't take too much time." She shouted back.

Harry had trouble stopping himself from laughing. He knew his aunt Petunia couldn't contradict her on this. Being normal was something she was proud of and anything contrasting that was not in the Dursley's dictionary.

Harry turned his attention back to the presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age and so was his sister. Harry looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Henrietta however was given old clothes of Aunt Petunia to wear outside. Whatever she had to wear of Dursleys, she had turned half of it wearable herself. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. This was another thing that Henrietta disagreed with the Dursleys on, but she too did not dare to ask too much.

Henrietta came downstairs and joined Harry. She wore a neat dress with puffed sleeves and a colorful apron. Harry whispered about his dream to his sister. His sister, unlike the Dursleys was like him and often fascinated by things out of the ordinary. She loved to put the spare equipments, and gadgets available and do her own experiments on them. She was only a few months older than Harry and studied in the same form as him. Some people used to call them twins too.

"That's pretty cool, Harry! A flying motorcycle! How I wish it was real! I could write on this!" She whispered to him enthusiastically. "But don't let that droners know about this. They'll throw a fit and it's annoying enough already." She added in a very low voice. Harry nodded almost sniggering at the 'creative' words used by his sister.

"Ready with the bacons? I'll get the eggs ready and put them in their vessels." She told him and set out to keep the bread in the oven.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way - all over the place. Henrietta had long hair too, but she was a girl and her hair was neatly out of her face with a pretty headban she herself designed, so her uncle didn't complain much.

Harry was almost done with the bacon by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on
his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted aunt Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry and Henrietta, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down their bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that,popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty...thirty..."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry, Henrietta and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head in Harry's and Henrietta's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry and Harriet was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. Henrietta didn't hate it as much as Harry, she'd spend most of her time buried in one of her books but it wasn't her favorite place either.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at the Potter siblings as though
they'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy. And the girl isn't much better though she's not that much of a nuisance."

The Dursleys often spoke about the Potter siblings like this, as though they weren't there- or rather, as though they were something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like slugs.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Harry put in hopefully (he and his sister would be able to watch what they wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.
"Come on auntie, we're not a bunch of crooks that we would blow up the house!" said Henrietta.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Petunia slowly, "...and leave him in the car...."

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone...."

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying - it had been years since he'd really cried - but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I...don't...want...him...or his....sister...t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later, Henrietta and Harry, who couldn't believe their luck, were sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in their life. Their aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with them, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken them aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..."

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did. He turned to Henrietta who was glaring at him but seeing him look at her, flashed a sickly sweet smile.

"I'm warning you too." He told her.

"Oh uncle, you're speaking as if we're criminals! We're going to zoo and all we can do is watch the animals! I'm just going to read my books anyway and I'm sure Harry isn't eager for people to think he's mental either!" Harriet cried.

"Don't you speak to me like that, young lady!" snapped her uncle, now glaring at her. Henrietta just rolled her eyes and cursed inaudibly under her breath.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.

Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had
been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when,as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

Henrietta was no better either. She had almost blasted a room once when Dudley tried to bully her. Another time, she had almost made his gang catch fire while they chased her. Yet another time, she had repaired a door handle, which in their opinion was almost beyond repair. However, unlike Harry she had a habit of experimenting with things which made her uncle and aunt think the accidents were due to that. That didn't make them think she's not weird though. But they didn't think of her as weird as they thought Harry was because her accidents had explanations, weird ones, but explanations indeed unlike him whose accidents could be nothing but magic.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, their cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room. While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Henrietta, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"...roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly.

"It was flying." He immediately earned a hard elbow and a hiss from Henrietta but the damage was done.

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache:

"MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."

But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon - they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

"Uncle, I think Harry was talking because of the article on airplane we had read yesterday for our school project. You can't blame him either. Before it was discovered that the earth revolved around the sun, people said sun revolved around sun. How weird is that? As time changes, the idea of normal changes too." She spoke.

"ITS NOT NORMAL, GIRL! BUT Fine. Tell your brother not to say such rubbish to us again." said Uncle Vernon. It was obvious that he definitely wasn't pleased. But maybe for the sake of shutting Henrietta up and to save himself from another so called theory of science which he wasn't interested in, but couldn't day he hated either.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry and Henrietta what they wanted before they could hurry them away, they bought them a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He and Henrietta was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting Harry. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first. Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons.

Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can - but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

The Potter siblings moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. They wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself - no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only
visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least they got
to visit the rest of the house, and in Harriet's case do something she liked.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's and Henrietta's. It winked.

The Potter siblings stared. Then they looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. Harry looked back at the snake and winked, too, and Henrietta smiled at the snake fondly.

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.
They turned back to the snake.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.
Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on:
This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see so you've never been to Brazil?" he asked.
"Oh poor dear." muttered Henrietta looking at the snake kindly and sympathetically.

As the snake shook its head in answer to Harry and smiled at Henrietta, well as much a snake could smile, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor and Henrietta ran and bend next to him, intending to help him up. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry and Henrietta sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past them, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come.... Thanksss, amigo."
His suspicion was almost confirmed when Henrietta looked at him in shock and awe. 'The snake can talk! It actually talked to us!" She mounthed. Harry nodded.

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.

"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry and Henrietta were talking to it, weren't you, Harry? Henrietta?"
Despite Henrietta's exclamation of " Are you crazy?" the Dursleys didn't seem to believe her.

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry and Henrietta. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and
Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.
Even though Harry had obeyed him, Henrietta did not move.
"Didn't you hear me!??" Uncle Vernon screamed at her almost making her jump, but she simply glared at him.

"Atleast give a reason for our punishment. We didn't do anything like you asked us to." She spoke.

"You-snake-escaped-talk," He managed to speak, turning bright red in rage.

"Don't tell me you believed Piers and thought that the snake spoke to us and we let him escape!" She laughed. "What rubbish! How could someone speak to a snake? Sure we might have pretended to speak to it, but it understanding us and listening!? If anyone would hear that, they'll think you're crazy!" She shrieked.

That did hit how she wanted it to. It was indeed far from normal. Maybe Piers was exaggerating.

"You made the glass to break, and released it!!"

He ignored her protests of 'No we didn't'.

Henrietta immediately rushed to her brother's side.

"Harry?" She asked after some time.

"Hmm?"

"Did we really talk to a snake?" She asked excitedly. Harry nodded.

Suddenly her eyes widened and she looked around buzzing in her place.

"Do you-do you suppose that, that snake was a human in disguise, Harry? Like Lady of the Kirke!?"

Harry blinked at her. He had no idea who Lady of the Kirke was.

"I don't know, Henry, but I know it was a good snake."

Henrietta nodded along.

"Do you suppose she was coming to save us from our miseries from the Dursleys?" She asked.

"Magic doesn't exist, Henry." He told her sadly, not wanting to make her sad.

"Rubbish, Harry, ofcourse it does. You just don't realise it." She said impatiently. "I'm going to read anyway. I'm soo excited to know the ending of Prince Caspian!" She gave him a hug and picked up one of the books neatly kept in the corner in a makeshift shelf. It had the words ' Mini Library' on it. She sat down, cross-legged, and opened the book, her eyes devouring the pages.

Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. Nearby, his sister sat scribbling something on a piece of paper. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Thankfully he didn't have to sneak in food after the Dursleys sleep.

He and his sister had lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as they could remember, ever since they 'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. Harry couldn't remember being in the car when their parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember thier parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he and his sister were forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.

When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him and Henrietta once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry and Henrietta furiously if they knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him and his sister once on a bus.

A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry or Henrietta tried to get a closer look.

At school, Harry had no one except his sister. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang. Harriet however was lucky in that department as some of her teachers liked her and she had 1-2 friends. Yet she was not much different. At lunch she sat on the lonely tree with a book as the other kids played. She was often found in the library where no one visited. Noone bullied her these days, and she was tricky enough to escape at close calls but till she was 8 year old she was as miserable as her brother. She would sneak in and help him whenever she could but it wasn't always.

But darkness when in life, would not remain for long. Change was constant. Little did the Potter siblings know, as they lay asleep, that a change was to come in their life. A big change that they couldn't have expected even in their dreams and a change that could turn their lives forever!