CHAPTER ONE !

THE VANISHING GLASS
( the philosophers stone )

__________________

NEARLY TEN YEARS HAVE 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 two other children lived in the house, too.

Yet Raven Potter was still there, currently loading her cousins presents to the living room.

She was walking back to get more as she heard her aunts voice in the hall where her and Harry's cupboard was.

"Up! Get up! Now!" she shrills and walks back to the kitchen.

Raven grabbed another bigger present, wishing she could be in the cupboard with Harry still fast asleep at least. Instead, Petunia woke her up in the early hours of the morning to set up Dudley's stupid presents. She put the present down and some others toppled over. She picked it up and continued to go back and get more.

Petunia saw this and as Raven walked back to grab more presents, she hit her upside the head hard. She winced a little bit went back to what she was doing nonetheless. She was used to it after all.

Petunia was back outside the door in a second, Raven heard.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded to Harry,

"Nearly," she heard 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."

Raven rolled her eyes and heard Harry groan.

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

"Nothing, nothing . . ."

Dudley's birthday—how could either have forgotten? Raven saw Harry walk out of the cupboard they slept in and shut the door and blinds and came down the hall into the kitchen.

"Are you alright?" Harry whispered to Raven as they saw Petunia had her back turned.

Assuming he was talking about earlier, Raven nodded and hugged her brother.

The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday 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 Raven, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise—unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bags were Harry and Raven, but he couldn't often catch them. The twins didn't look it, but they were very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but the twins had always been small and skinny for their age. They looked even smaller and skinnier than they really were because all Harry had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Raven has to wear Petunias old and weird clothes from the 70s. She hates them. She was a bit thinner than Petunia so her clothes were a little baggier as well but, she always stole a flannel or two that Harry had gotten from Dudley which she was currently wearing.

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. Raven looked the same except she didn't wear glasses and she had longer red hair as well as green eyes. The only thing either twin liked about their own appearance was a very thin scar on their foreheads that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

They had had the scars as long as they could remember, and the first question Raven could ever remember asking Aunt Petunia was how they had gotten them.

"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.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon and Raven was making coffee.

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

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut and that Raven should make her hair shorter. 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.

Raven was now frying eggs 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—Raven often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

Raven watched as 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 Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Raven, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down her 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 you stupid twat.' Raven thought.

"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 Raven, Harry 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 Raven and Harry's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Raven'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, Raven and Harry were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. They 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.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Raven and Harry as though they planned this. Raven knew she ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when she reminded herself it would be a whole year before she 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 them."

The Dursleys often spoke about Raven and Harry like this, as though they weren't there—or rather, as though they were something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

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

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Raven put in hopefully (They'd 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.

"We won't blow up the house," said Raven, but they weren't listening.

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

"That car's new, they're 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...DONT...WANT THEM TO..COME!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "They always sp-spoil everything!" He shot Raven 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, Raven 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 lives. Their aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with Raven or Harry, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken them aside.

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

"Were not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly. . . ."

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe them. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Raven and Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys they 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. Raven felt terrible. People had bullied her too but she hated when her brother was scared. Next morning, however, Harry 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 the 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 Raven into a revolting old sweater of hers (brown with orange puff balls)—The harder she tried to pull it over her head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Raven. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to her great relief, Raven wasn't punished.

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

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, the 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, Raven and Harry, the council, Raven and Harry, the bank, and Raven 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 Raven, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Raven, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

"She knows they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."

But Raven wished she hadn't said anything. She was on the verge of crying and felt tears in her eyes but stopped them. She learned to not cry about things a long time ago so she just leaned her head against the window as they drove on and felt Harry's head on her shoulder. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than her asking questions, it was her 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 she might get dangerous ideas.

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 Raven and Harry what they wanted before they could hurry them away, they bought them each a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Raven thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond. Raven snickered as she told Harry what she thought.

They had the best morning they had in a long time. Raven was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys and close to Harry 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 them. 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 and Raven were allowed to finish the first.

Raven felt, afterward, that she 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.

Harry and Raven moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. She 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 she and Harry got to visit the rest of the house.

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

It winked.

They both stared. Then looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. They looked back at the snake and winked, too.

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

"I get that all the time."

"I know," Raven murmured through the glass, though she wasn't sure the snake could hear her.

"It must be really annoying." said Harry.

The snake nodded vigorously.

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

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. They peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Raven read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see—so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Raven and Harry made both of them jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" shouted Piers.

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you two, " he said, punching Harry and Raven in the ribs. Caught by surprise, they both fell hard on the concrete floor. 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.

The twins 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 him, Raven could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come. . . . Thanksss, amigos."

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 and Raven 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 the twins at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry and Raven were talking to it, weren't you two?"

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Raven and Harry. 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.

Harry and Raven lay in the dark cupboard much later, wishing they had a watch. Raven didn't know what time it was and she couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, she couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food to grab Harry. She knew Harry was suspicious of her not eating much lately even if neither got much to eat at all but she was thankful he didn't question it.

They lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as Raven could remember, ever since she had been a baby and her parents had died in that car crash. She couldn't remember being in the car when they had died. Sometimes, when she strained her memory during long hours in the cupboard, she came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on her forehead that Harry said he also felt which was odd. This, she supposed, was the crash, though she couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. Neither could remember their parents at all. Their aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course she was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.

When she had been younger, Raven had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take her and Harry away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were their only family. Yet sometimes she thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know her. Very strange strangers they were, too.

A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to her and Harry once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry and Raven 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 them once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken their hands 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 Raven or Harry tried to get a closer look.

At school, Harry and Raven had no one except each other. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry and Raven Potter in their baggy old clothes and Harry's broken glasses, and their weird scars. Nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.