Maddison Potter

   "Did he reply yet? Are you really sure he got it?" These had been only part of the questions Maddison Potter had been asking for the past week, non-stop. She figured someone would get annoyed sooner or later, but everyone just seemed amused she was so eager. She ran a caramel colored hand through her messy, so-dark-brown-it-was-almost-red hair absently, pacing around the small office layered with portraits of moving men and woman. The elderly man sitting patiently in front of her smiled wanly,"My dear Maddison, give him time. Those muggles he live with are not known for their love of our kind." Maddison scowled, and the mans hair shook as he laughed, the silvery hair fluidly shimmery. But while she paced impatiently, Harry Potter laid in his small dark cupboard staring at a spider on the wall.
                       ...
  Harry Potter lived with his uncle and aunt, and their chubby blonde son Dudley. He could hear Vernon Dursley's rumbling chortle through the the slots on his door, and scowled into the pillow he was holding. The Dursley's were very normal, very rude, very unkind people. And they liked it that way. Two thirds of them were chubby, round, and beefy. Aunt Petunia, on the other hand, was thin, boney, and had a very long neck. Mostly used for craning through windows and over garden fence's, spying and digging for gossip. Harry looked nothing like that, and he very much appreciated that. He had a thin, long, pale face that looked ghostly under his shock of black messy black hair. He was skinny, and tall.
  He groaned softly, rolled onto his side, and pulled himself out of bed. If it hadn't been for his rumbling stomach, he wouldn't have bothered. But, he hadn't eaten for a whole day and 3 hours, and he was reaching his breaking point. He pushed the door open softly, not wanting anyone to know he was out. He knotted his hands together, crept to the fridge, and looked around. No one in sight. He slowly opened the fridge, carefully muting the woosh of sound it made. He grabbed the first thing he saw, and darted out of the kitchen. Grinning, he sat on his bed, examining his prize. He had grabbed a cold sausage, and bit into it hungrily, ignoring the chill. After he ate, he sighed, not satisfied. He laid down on his bed, and folded his arms behind his head.
  Two more days, he thought to himself. Two more days until he left his old Elementary school, the school that Dudley also went to. He had no one at that school, for everyone knew that Dudley's gang hated that weird, rugged Harry Potter. And no one disagreed with Dudley's gang. He did have one good thing, though. Tommorow, would be his 11th birthday. No one had ever really noticed his birthdays, but still; It wasn't every day you turned 11.
                              ...
  Maddison grinned, "Im going to get him tommorow." Fred and George Weasley- two identical, red haired, freckled, and astonishingly tall boys- grinned back, a mischievious glint in their eyes that Maddison had come to love.
"What are you going to do?"
Maddison winked,"Now, I'm going to be a perfectly mannered young lady."
George's grin widened,"Like always?"
"Like always."
                          ...
   Harry opened his eyes, his lids heavy with crust from the night. He glanced at the rubbishy clock on his drawer, and blinked. It was 6:00 am. He was 11. He smiled, and breathed,"Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to m-" CRACK.  He leaped up from his bed, and banged his head on the low ceiling. He rubbed it anxiously, and peeked out the door. It was pitch black dark, and his eyes hadn't adjusted. So he stayed there, blinking rapidly. Then he heard a trilling, velvety voice murmur,"Could of done that better." His heart thumped, never faced with the fate of robbers or cruiminals. He heard pounding on the stairs, the tell-tale sign of Uncle Vernon roaring down the stairs. Harry stepped out his cupboard, whipping his head around nervously, searching for the culprit of the noise and voice. Then his eyes adjusted, and he heard a sweet sigh.
"Hello, Harry."