Harry Potter and the Wizards of Narhassa

Chapter 1: 6 Privet Drive.

It was a dreary, miserable day at the Dursley's - Well, when isn't it a miserable day here... thought Harry as he listlessly watched the rain tap against his bedroom window and run down the pane. The annoying squealing of Dudley and his best friends shot through the walls and ran down the raven-haired boy's spine like electricity. Adjusting his glasses and sitting back on the floor, against his bed, Harry puffed out his cheeks and, for the eighth time today, reached under his bed and retrieved a small stash of letters. Each of them had become worn and wrinkled, as Harry made it a daily practice to read his letters over and over again. The first one - it was always on top - was from his best friend in the world, Ron Weasley. Just touching the soft parchment of Ron's letter made him feel as though he were back in his dormitory in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - albeit it was a short while.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday Harry! Sorry I haven't been able to write sooner, but George and Fred have me working like a dog for them this summer... oh that's right, I didn't tell you! Fred and George all of a sudden got all this money. They won't say who its from though; I wouldn't put it past them to hire a hit-wizard to shake down Ludo Bagman for the money he owned them though.

Harry trailed off there with a slight smirk, yet at the cost of a pang of nostalgia. Whenever he thought of the prize money he had given to Fred and George for their joke shop, he was inadvertently minded of Cedric Diggory, slain by Voldemort nearly three months ago to date.

Anyway, Fred and George are making all these plans, investing half the money into these Gringotts Bank trust funds Bill was telling them about. It's goblin stuff... all complex... basically they're supposed to invest a lot of money into stuff... oh heck, I don't know. It gives me brain pain just thinking about it. Anyway, hope you liked the present. Hopefully, Dumbledore will come around and let you stay here with us. If not, though, I'll try to mail you some food every now and then. I know the Dursleys do their best to starve you.

Ron

P.S. Percy took Mr. Crouch's job, as Head of the Department of International Magic Cooperation. Don't ask me what manner of creature he slept with to get that one. I don't want to know.

Harry also wondered how Percy Weasley had been able to land such a prestigious position after serving the Ministry for no more than a year. With a careful hand, he placed the letter under the pile and read the next one.

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday! I hope that everything is going good for you, despite recent events. I'm always hoping for the best and I know Dumbledore is keeping a close eye on you. He's a good man, that Dumbledore, and he won't let you fall into harm's way. I sent you some food, since I know the Dursleys do their best to starve you.

Your Friend,

Hagrid

Still not feeling hungry enough to touch some of the gray, rock hard cookies that Hagrid had sent, he had put them under his bed for an emergency. Carefully putting Hagrid's letter under Ron's letter, he moved onto the next one. This was his newest letter, for he had just received it a week ago. Hermione had surprised Harry with an earlier letter, telling him that she would be spending a week in America. Her parents insisted that she go to Disneyland, in California, USA.

Dear Harry,

Hope you had as Happy of a Birthday as the Dursley's would allow. I am having a great time in the United States! I was pleasantly surprised to learn that not every single American boy carries a gun or listens to rap music. It's amazing how much fun people in America have (though, granted, I've only been to amusement parks all day) I did not think it was possible to have this much fun outside of a library! My father and I have gone on this ride called Space Mountain about five times. It's this roller coaster (had to explain that one to Ron. Took about four letters before he finally got the gist of it) that you cannot see anything on. It was wicked!

It's strange that the wizarding world hardly even exists over here. I guess most Americans are either too lazy to become Wizards, or they move up to Canada. In fact, there is only one American Witchcraft and Wizardry School. It is called Castagloria and it is based in the middle of the Great Plains, with nothing but hayfields around for miles! I actually did meet a group of wizards at Universal Studies, however. You want to know something else that is really strange? They are all coming to Hogwarts next semester! I guess it must be some kind of Castagloria - Hogwarts exchange program. I wonder if this was Percy's idea. Did Ron tell you about his promotion? Anyway, I'm digressing from the topic. One of their names is Sean Camaradi; he is the coolest guy you can possibly meet. You'll get to meet him. He looks like Ron only he is as shy as a church mouse and about a foot shorter. Anyway, best of wishes. I've included some American food that doesn't go bad, since I know the Dursleys do their best to starve you.

Love,

Hermione

P.S. Sean doesn't know who Harry Potter is. You'll like him.

Harry had already eaten the food Hermione had sent him; some of the finest beef jerky she could get her hands on. The strange meat almost seemed magical, for he could not bite into it without breaking his tooth. He did like it, however, for he had always had a soft spot for spicy foods. With a sigh, he put Hermione's letter underneath Hagrid's. He was a bit upset that Sirius had missed his birthday, yet he also understood how busy he was, working with Dumbledore on whatever clandestine assignment he had given him.

It was also strange that Hermione met a wizard who claimed to be coming to Hogwarts this fall in America. She spoke of him like she would be speaking of someone who was as old as they were, but perhaps he was reading too much into her words. He was probably just some First Year she thought was adorable or something. It was all but unheard of for Hogwarts to accept a student older than a first year.

Harry's slight reverie was destroyed by a trollish, chortling sound.

"I WIN, I WIN!" came Dudley's obnoxious, ear-piercing squeal from the next room over. Dudley was now marveling over his newest toy; some sort of game console called X-Box that had come out right around the same time that Harry was swimming underneath the lake at Hogwarts, dodging grindylows and rescuing Ron. Harry wondered how long it would be before Dudley threw it out the window.

"ONLY BECAUSE YOU UNPLUGGED MY CONTROLLER, YOU GIT!" cried one of Dudley's friends named Max, a boy who looked something like the offspring of Neville Longbottom and a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass sounded from Dudley's room, followed by a loud smash upon the sidewalk of 4 Privet Drive.

Well, that answers that, thought Harry with a smug expression.

Harry sighed and decided that he'd go for a walk. The wind and the rain would serve as better company than Dudley and gang, for without a video game to help them stay big-boned, they would find the next best entertainment around...

... Harry bashing.

Harry clambered down the stairs of the Dursley's two-story house and reached into the closet by the door. With a dissatisfied grunt, he threw on a raincoat that Uncle Vernon had been nice enough to give him. It was navy blue with about six different holes in it. It used to be Dudley's when he was six, yet it fit Harry's skinny frame rather well now.

"Hey Harry!" came the whine from upstairs as he heard the door to his room opening. "Want to play Wrestlemani... eh? Where'd he go?"

With a smirk, Harry closed the front door behind him. He knew it would be a warm day in Professor Snape's dungeon before Dudley would come after him in this rainstorm.

Harry's footfalls echoed off the house as he felt the rain bringing some semblance of order to the untamable mat on top of his head. With a yawn perpetrated by boredom as well as fatigue, Harry walked to the end of the driveway and turned down the street. It was another seventy-two days, sixteen hours and fifty-four minutes, according to his digital watch, before he would return to Platform 9 and 3/4s. Looking up into the gray sky, Harry almost wished he could speed up time.

Not until 7^th year, sighed Harry dejectedly as he paced down Privet Drive.

His disdainful boredom was broken however by an interesting sight. The house next door to the Dursley's, 6 Privet Drive, had a sign upon the front lawn with a bold word in red paint.

SOLD.

That's strange, thought Harry. I didn't even know it was for sale.

A small van was parked in front of the house, with three people dressed in ponchos, working tirelessly to bring some standard looking furniture into the house. Apparently, standing out in the middle of the sidewalk, wearing a half-torn raincoat was not the most clandestine of actions, for one of the people looked up to see Harry and waved.

"Alright there!" shouted one of the most beautiful voices Harry had ever heard, and between Veela's and mermaids, he had heard some rather lovely choruses. The figure, still blurred in the rain, made her way over to Harry.

Harry raised his hand, a bit coyly. "Alright," he greeted, pushing a wet bang out of his eyes.

The girl approached him and removed her hood. "Hey, do you live around here?"

Harry's jaw dropped. Before him, with a beautiful, fair face and long, golden tresses that seemed untouched by the rain around them, was a face lovely enough to match her melodious voice. She looked to be about his age, or perhaps one year younger.

"Yeah - well, no - well, sorta," replied Harry smoothly; scratching the back of his head so furiously, he was afraid he'd start a fire. "I live here, but I go to boarding school."

The girl smiled radiantly at him. "During the summer?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no, um... I mean during the school year, I go to boarding school, that's why, I wind up living here, now..." Harry felt as though he had eaten one of Fred Weasley's Ton-Tongue Toffees. "My name's Harry," he said, quickly changing the topic.

"Jessica," replied the girl, her smile seeming only to brighten at Harry's staggering words. "What school do you go to?"

"Errr..." began Harry, trying to dig his toe into the sidewalk. "St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."

If she took Harry serious for a moment, this was hidden phenomenally well by an energetic laugh so lovely, it made Harry's cheeks burn.

"Right, sure," she said. "No really, what school do you go to?"

Harry began to feel a bit more at ease talking to Jessica. He never liked lying, however, he feared that if his uncle ever found out that he had said the word "Hogwarts" within a mile radius of his house, he'd loose what little food they fed him.

"Fleetmore Academy," lied Harry, drawing a name up from out of the blue.

Jessica shrugged, but her smile did not diminish. "I haven't heard of it. Hey listen, you want to come in? It's kind of wet out here."

The rain had increased to a downpour, making conversation very difficult over the din of tapping and splattering.

"Yeah, that'd be wicked," said Harry, perhaps sounding a bit too enthusiastic.

Jessica smiled and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him along through her driveway. The other two figures had closed the van for now, apparently not wishing to compete with the rainstorm.

"Mom, Dad," said Jessica. "This is Harry, he lives next door!"

The two figures turned around. It was obvious where Jessica got her looks from her mother's side, as she seemed nearly identical to her in every way, shape and form. Her father was a round-faced man with a thick, brown mustache.

"Hello there, Harry," he said, extending his hand. "Charles Rennings."

"A pleasure," replied Harry, shaking the man's hand. The man's expression turned a bit stony, however.

"Was that your game console that flew out the window and nearly killed my wife?"

Harry felt completely and utterly mortified, yet could not help but nearly laugh out loud.

"No," he said with a twitch at the corner of his mouth, showing his emotional restraint. "That was my cousin, Dudley. He gets a wee bit temperamental at times."

Jessica's mother smiled brightly, making him wonder who was better looking.

"My husband exaggerates. I had a full three seconds to get out of the way."

At that, Harry could not hide a laugh of his own. Without much delay, Jessica and her parents made a quick dash for the house, the girl pulling Harry along with surprising strength.

Immediately, Harry knew that Aunt Petunia would be giving her house a makeover after seeing the inside of 6 Privet Drive. The entire room seemed to be filled with antiques, giving it a very unique feel. For a split second, he was reminded of the Gryffindor Common Room, in both atmosphere and comfort-level. The door opened up into a living room, complete with several red cushioned chairs and a crackling fireplace. Lacy red curtains hung over the walls, trapping the warm air in the room. Almost at once, Harry noticed Jessica's mother rush over to the fireplace and flick a switch above it, turning it off.

"Forgive us, Harry," she said awkwardly. "We had to..."

Jessica filled in the slack quickly. "Burn out the cobwebs from the chimney. They give me such allergies."

Indeed, the only time he had ever seen a fireplace lit during the summer was in The Burrow, when Mr. Diggory had made contact with Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley during breakfast by use of Floo Powder. It seemed like two strange coincidences that the room looked so ornate and the fireplace was so quick to be turned off.

"I'll give you the tour," said Jessica energetically as she grabbed Harry's arm again and pulled him along like a new puppy.

After receiving the tour of the house, Harry could still not believe how fancy the house was decorated. Every single room was clad out with expensive furnishing that would have been common in the 16^th century.

"... my father is a dealer in antiques," Jessica was explaining. "What doesn't sell, he brings home."

Harry nodded once, in understanding. "So, what school are you going to go to?" he asked, trying to make conversation with her as they entered the kitchen. Jessica sat down at the round table, with Harry quickly following suit.

"Oh," she said, laughing bashfully. "I'm sure you wouldn't have heard of it."

Now this is ironic, he thought. I don't think she could possibly have me beat here.

"Try me," he said, leaning forward with a smile of his own.

Jessica scratched the back of her head. "It's for exceptional people... geeks like me, you know,"

Harry's emerald green eyes lit up mischievously. "Spill it."

"It's called ... eh..." trailed off Jessica faintly, before finally throwing it out. "Hogwarts School of... eh... the Gifted."

The only thing that could have floored Harry more is if she had cast the Avada Kedavra curse upon him and there. This could not be possible, reasoned Harry. It was all but unheard of for Hogwarts to accept students older than first year, yet Hermione was telling him about a boy named Sean and his group attending... and now a girl named Jessica will be moving in? What was going on?

After a moment of uneasy silence, Harry finally decided to speak.

"So, you are a witch then?"

Now, it was Jessica's turn to be floored. His eyes widened and her smile turned into a gaping flycatcher.

"How do you...?" asked Jessica.

Harry calmly withdrew his wand from under his shirt. Perhaps a bit of paranoia after his encounter with Barty Crouch had rubbed off on him, but after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he never went anywhere without it.

"Oh!" she said, excitedly. "You are a wizard!"

"Harry Potter is my full name," said Harry, a bit unenthusiastically. He knew what was to come now... she would ask him to show her his lightning bolt scar, she would ask him for an autograph, she would ask him to turn around... she would ask about You-Know-Who...

Jessica's expression didn't brighten or fall. "Well, truth be told, I'm not really a witch."

This made Harry blink.

"Eh?" he retorted with unusual eloquence.

"Well, you see, I'm... I don't really cast spells. I don't even have a wand," said Jessica.

Harry blinked yet again.

"It's difficult to explain," said Jessica. "It started about three months ago... I don't know how. I could make things happen just by desiring it to be so."

Harry leaned forward. "Well, yeah, that's magic... right?"

Jessica blushed a bit and folded her hands awkwardly. "Yeah, but... just watch."

Before Harry could stop her, every cupboard in the kitchen opened up and then closed just as quickly. Harry had taken his eyes off her briefly, but he knew she had not said even the slightest incantation or moved a muscle.

"Blimey!" cried Harry, waving his hands in a show of restraint. "Don't do that! Underage wizards are not permitted to perform magic outside of a school! The Improper Use of Magic Office will be flooding you with owls!"

Jessica shrugged slowly a smile creeping back on her face. "What they don't know can't hurt them, now can it?"

"But they have ways of knowing!" continued Harry. He remembered all too well before his second year at Hogwarts when Dobby the House Elf had used a simple Hovering Charm on a pudding. The Ministry had blamed Harry about twelve seconds later and nearly got him expelled from Hogwarts.

Jessica shook her head. "Not this kind of magic, I don't think," she said. "It's hard to explain... but, I've only been part of the wizarding world for these past few months. My mother has been a muggle all her life, as have I... yet we both developed these abilities. The Ministry hasn't contacted us once... the only correspondence we've had with the Wizarding World was an invitation in our home in Wales, asking me if I would like to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry sat back in the chair, running his hand through his damp, disheveled hair. While his experiences concerning the Wizarding World were about as little as possible for a student going into his fifth year in Hogwarts, he had never heard of someone's abilities manifesting so late in life.

"What else can you do?" asked Harry, now more intrigued than concerned.

Harry almost instantly regretted asking... as he felt himself grow lighter and lift into the air effortlessly, rising out of his chair against his will. He did not stop upon reaching a standing position, however, and floated clear off his feet.

"Whoa!" cried Harry as his head bumped lightly into the ceiling. "What... what did you do?"

Jessica smiled and stood up slyly. "I... desired you to levitate."

"But, you didn't even say Winguardium Leviosa!" snapped Harry, wincing as his head bumped up against the ceiling again, like a balloon.

"God bless you?" asked Jessica with a dumb expression on her face. "Is that what you wizards actually say to make someone or something float?"

Harry put his hands above his head to prevent bouncing against the ceiling again. "Yeah," he said slowly. "It's a spell... wizards are known to cast them."

Without a word, Harry found himself floating back down from the ceiling.

"I have no idea how you could possibly know that off the top of your head," said Jessica, with an impressed tone. "I have a hard enough time remembering phone numbers."

Harry scratched his chin as he landed back on the ground and took his seat again.

"If you are coming to Hogwarts, I think you are going to have to learn," he said sagely.

"If you want, I can help you learn some magic."

Jessica stood up, completely delighted. "That'd be great. I'd love to hang out with you some more. You seem like a really great guy."

A thought that tasted to his brain like ambrosia to his tongue filled his mind. "I'm Harry Potter," he said, a second time, repeating his statement in case she didn't here.

Jessica blinked and arched a brow at him. "I'm Jessica Rennings. I think we've gotten past this part, though."

Harry felt completely liberated and euphoric. She doesn't know who Harry Potter

is... GREAT!

"Yeah - Yeah, I guess we have," affirmed Harry.

Jessica smiled and winked at him. "Why don't I come over to your place at eight tonight?"

Harry's expression turned from brilliant acceptance to panic. "No, no. Um, I'll come over here and bring some books."

"Oh, come on," said Jessica with a playful whine. "I've not yet seen your home or met your family or your cousin."

Harry bit his lip bashfully. "I know! That's a good thing, believe me."

Jessica waved her hand. "Oh, don't be ridiculous... they can't be THAT bad..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

"What horrible, horrible people!" she cried, on the verge of tears.

Jessica stormed out of 4 Privet Drive, that night, followed quickly by Harry, whose face was the approximate color of a plum. Harry raced after her as Uncle Vernon's voice followed them with an unerring tenacity that Flich might demonstrate if he were trying to chase Peeves away.

"YOU BROUGHT ANOTHER ONE OF THEM INTO MY HOUSE! YOU WON'T BE EATING FOR A WEEK!"

Harry blocked out his uncle's voice and followed after Jessica. "Wait, Jessica, I'm sorry! I tried to tell you earlier today. They hate magic and everything magical."

Jessica's lip trembled in anger and confusion. "I just wanted to help Dudley repair his window. I felt sorry for the little porker!"

At that, Harry chuckled... and Jessica could not keep a sour expression for very long. Before he knew it, Jessica was leaning upon him, laughing herself silly. Harry did the only thing he thought would be natural and put his arm around her.

The rain had stopped and the clouds had lifted, showing off a bright, full moon. The landscape glistened silvery in the light as the moisture collected upon the blades of grass.

"Let's go see a movie," said Jessica calmly, looking up into Harry's eyes.

Harry blinked in shock for a moment. Come to think of it, he could not remember the last time he had seen a movie in a Muggle movie theatre.

"How would we get there?" asked Harry curiously. "I have a broom, but I am not permitted to fly it."

Jessica punched Harry playfully in his skinny chest. "It's called a car. Might be a new innovation to the wizarding world, but they are rumored to be able to get someone from point A to point B."

Harry smiled and looked down into Jessica's azure blue eyes. "It rings a bell, only in the Wizard world, those fly too... sorta."

Jessica smiled in slight jest. "My father can take us; I'm sure he'd be delighted to talk to you as well."

Both walked back to her house; all the while, Jessica listened attentively while Harry explained his story involving Ron Weasley, a flying car and a Whomping Willow.