Leaving It Up to Chance

Chapter One

Harry was walking down the street, an ice cream cone in hand. Already eighteen, he, like everyone else, couldn't resist an ice cream cone on a hot day. But sadly, every cone he ate reminded him of the days he'd spend at Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor, and then he would think of Hogwarts. How he missed Hogwarts and his friends Ron and Hermione. From what he heard, Hermione was a famous Daily Prophet reporter and Ron was the manager of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. And himself, Harry, was Seeker for the Puddlemere United.

Harry finished his ice cream and now started biting the cone as he reached his apartment. With one last bite he finished it off as he fumbled around his pocket for his keys. Almost triumphantly he pulled his key out and unlocked the door. As he swung the door open he took one look around his room and gasped.

His apartment looked as if a gigantic windstorm had just passed through. He strolled in cautiously, in case there was a burglar inside. He crossed the living room to the kitchen. All utensils where chewed up and all the knobs for his cabinets had bite marks. What kind of robber would do that? Bewildered, Harry continued on to his bedroom. He nearly swore, but he caught himself in time. His bedside lamp was on the floor, all chewed up, his pens bitten, and the closet doorknob was missing. Then Harry heard a thump in his bathroom. He whipped out his wand and reached for the door and pulled it open. A black fluffy something was on his sink, gnawing on the faucet. A niffler. It looked up at Harry for a moment and began to chew the faucet again. Harry hesitated, doing some quick thinking. The one time Hagrid had brought nifflers, he had said that they were home wreckers, but never mentioned what you should do if you ever did find one in your apartment. He tried to pick it up but it squirmed around and out of his grasp. It dashed out into his bedroom to do more damage. Harry followed after it. The niffler was sniffing around, looking for more glittery or shiny things to gnaw on. That was when it looked up above Harry's bed and spotted his Firebolt's glimmering gold lettering on a shelf above the bed. The niffler hopped onto the bed and onto the headboard.

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Harry bellowed, running to the bed. It was about to jump onto the ledge of the shelf when Harry grabbed it and dropped it on the floor. It growled at him and spotted his watch. He lept up and grabbed it. Harry screamed; the watch was still on his wrist, and the niffler was biting on his watch and his wrist. He tried to pull the creature off when his watch slipped off. The niffler looked at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It ran off to the kitchen, Harry stumbling after him. The animal stared up at him from under the table. Harry lunged for it but it ran away, watch in his mouth, at the last moment. Harry landed on the floor with a thud. Slightly winded, Harry got up and his head banged the table. He clutched his head in pain and crawled out from beneath it. Then he heard a crash in his living room. The niffler had knocked over a few chairs and lamps in its attempts to get at a golden trophy on the mantel of the fireplace.

"NOOO!" Harry shouted as the niffler knocked it over and it fell to the floor. This was time for some drastic action. As the creature jumped down to the ground and made its way to the trophy, Harry conjured up small chains around one of the niffler's paws. It yelped and Harry seized the chains and tied them around his sofa's leg. Unable to move much further, the niffler gnawed at the hard chains in boredom. Harry collapsed into a wooden chair next to it and sighed. His head was still throbbing and his wrist where his watch, which he didn't even want to bother looking for, had been was bleeding freely. It was there that Harry saw a girl about his age step through the front door.

"Are you all right? I heard screaming and crashing," she said with her eyes full of concern.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"What happened?"

"It was him!" Harry said quickly, with the air of a small boy who was trying to worm his way out of trouble.

"A niffler!" the girl squealed. "Yep, they're house wreckers, nifflers," she added.

"No need to tell me that," Harry mumbled quietly, but she heard.

"By the way, I'm Jenny," she said smiling.

"Harry Potter."

Jenny's eyes didn't flick up to his scar as people used to do. Perhaps it was because all the shock of seeing him had worn off. Which was why Harry wasn't as conscious as he used to be about covering the scar with his bangs. His hair was no longer long and matted anymore, but short and slightly gelled.

"You need help cleaning up?" Jenny asked, a bit amused as she looked around his apartment.