Harry Potter The Girl Who Lived

**Chapter 1**

Rose's emerald eyes fluttered open to see the light beginning to creep under her door. She groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Rose had decided long ago that not waking up to her Aunt's screeches was worth losing a few minutes of precious sleep. She slipped into an old skirt and jumper, pulled an unsuspecting spider out of her least horrible shoes, and waited for the first thuds from upstairs to signal her _family_ was getting up.

She didn't have to wait long. A high pitched "Sweetums, it's time to wake up. Mummy's got lots of presents all set up and she'll have the girl make anything you want for breakfast."

If Rose was a physiatrist, she would have told her aunt that talking in the third person was probably a sign of insanity. As she was a ten year old girl, she decided that she'd save herself the energy that ducking a swing from a soppy frying pan would require. Wait … presents. Her Aunt Petunia mentioned presents. That means the most dreaded day of the year was finally upon them. June 23. An anniversary of the greatest catastrophe of the late 20th century. Her cousin's birthday.

The screeching was closer to her door now. "Up! Get -"

Rose swung the door open. The look of surprise on her Aunt's face would never get old. Even though it happened every morning. Trying to keep a smile off her face, Rose walked past her Aunt and into the kitchen. "I suppose you want me to make eggs and bacon?" she said dryly.

"No! It's my Duddlykin's birthday so we're having bacon and eggs," her aunt shot back.

"That's what I said."

"Don't take that tone with your Aunt. You should be grateful for all the energy she has put into raising you and …"

Her uncle had entered the kitchen. Thinking back, Rose decided the pounding coming from the staircase should have been a hint of the inevitable. _Dudleykinns_ still made a sort of thudding sound. Rose tuned out the rest of her uncles self-righteous monologue to ponder a much more important question, where she had put the pepper.

"Well girl! What are you still staring for? Your Aunt told you to cook our breakfast."

That was her clue to start the stove. She did the rest of the cooking on autopilot, singing to herself. Not out loud of course. Even humming was met with a ten minute speech on how the morning was her Uncle's time to read the news in peace so he could be informed about the world and make intelligent decisions. That was obvious hard because trying to keep a straight face while listening to her aunt call her uncle intelligent was completely outrageous.

The dull thudding sounds had started. Rose wondered whether they would one day become pounding noises or if it would be a gradual change.

"Watch the bacon!" her aunt yelled, "Your letting it burn!"

Couldn't the lady see she was busy solving the universe's greatest mysteries? Or at least, her aunt's universe's greatest mysteries. Rose refused to even consider her cousin as an important part of her universe.

"Thirty six. I only have thirty six presents this year," the unimportant part of Rose's world whined.

Rose was amazed. It could count! This was a groundbreaking discovery. She could see the headlines now: 'Pigs Learn to Count' and 'Math Taught to Farm Animals'.

"No, sweetums. There's thirty seven," her aunt simpered.

That's disappointing. Rose would have to find something else to make her famous. Maybe walruses that were able to feed themselves breakfast … nope. Her aunt still helped her husband with that.

"That's still one less than last year! I want as many presents as last year!" Dudley screamed.

Screaming was a bad sign. Quickly followed by wailing and his mother giving him whatever he wanted. "You forgot my present for you," said Rose, "I left it in my cupboard." That was a stretch of the truth. Scratch that, it was an utter lie. But the look of fury on her cousin's face as he realized he wasn't going to be getting any more store bought presents was worth giving up one of her own measly possessions.

After placing the plates of bacon and eggs on the undersized kitchen table, Rose sauntered back to her cabinet. Her smile started to slowly fade as she realized she had to find a possession of her that would pass her relative's expectations for her cousin's gifts. She didn't exactly have a lot of stuff. In fact, her cupboard would have been called Spartan if not for the fact that implied there was a bit of room to spread stuff out over. That and the fact that yelling out "This is SPARTA!" probably wouldn't have gone over too well with her extended family.

But what to take? That old mustard yellow pair of Uncle Vernon's socks that she used as a pencil case? No, Dudley's wardrobe was bad enough already. She also didn't really think that clothing filled with squashed spider legs was a socially acceptable birthday present. Wait! There was that rock below her bedpost that kept the bed from wobbling during the night. She could always grab another one for that purpose but for now it would solve a more immediate issue. The only trouble would be keeping a straight face.

"Here it is, Dudley!" she trilled, a huge grin on her face. At least her humor could be disguised as excitement.

"It's a rock," Dudley grunted, confused, "_Mummy_ she got me a rock for my birthday."

Before her aunt could interrupt, Rose continued. "It's not just any rock. It's a pet rock. You always talk about how you want a pet but since they upset Aunt Marge's dogs I got you this instead. You can dress it up and take it on walks around the neighborhood and everything!"

"Ohhh," exclaimed Aunt Petunia, "I can get you a stroller for it and lots of pretty little dresses and…"

Ha! Take that Dudders. Her cousin was not only deprived of electronics but also humiliated. Her plans did sometimes work. Granted, there was that time when she thought that shaking up all of Dudley's soda cans for his end of school party was going to be fun and not result in hours of cleaning … but soggy pigs are hilarious.

Her aunt was still going on about Dudley's new pet as she went to open the door. "Dudley, it will be just like when you were little and you played with those Barbie dolls that you insisted we get you for Christmas," were the first words Dudley's guests were greeted by as they walked through the door.

"You played with Barbies?" Pierce snickered. "I didn't know you were such a _girl_."

And score. This almost made up for the fact that she was about to spend the day with the batty next door neighbor. At least Ms. Figg had given up on Rose playing with her cats after she had _accidently_ let them outdoors. It wasn't her fault. Rose _couldn't_ have known that the door always stuck open if you pushed it past the doorstop. But, alas, Rose was now only allowed to sit and watch old TV programs while eating stale cakes. What a pity.

After far too many simpering "thank you for taking care of him"-s and 'he'll be perfectly safe"-s, Mrs. Polkiss left.

Before Rose could get ready to head over to Ms. Figg's, Aunt Petunia said "Come on you three, get in the back."

She was supposed to go with? That would ruin her plans for the day. And what happened to Ms. Figg? You know, reliable, never leaving the house, creepy cat lady?

"Ms. Figg broke her leg," grunted her uncle. Well that answered that question. "And I don't want any trouble from you." The last statement was accompanied by a glare to Rose.

As if she tried to cause trouble. Trouble just really liked her. It's not like she meant for the soda cans to explode more than was chemically reasonable or for that hideous maroon sweater from the resale shop to turn into a much more pleasant violet. Or for the time she had accidently jumped on the school roof or when Aunt Marge's bull hound had suddenly lost all her hair after barking at her or when Dudley's tie had become pink just as he had been walking into school or… well, point made.

But a car ride with her overly normal aunt, drill obsessed uncle, way too fat cousin, and annoying classmate who was still going on about Barbie dolls? Either she really messed up in some past life or fate just hates her.


End file.

Harry Potter, Adventure, Humor