Harry Potter of Number 4 Privet Drive was proud to say he was perfectly normal, thank you very much.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said about his relatives.
His aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon, and their son Dudley were wixen.
Where Harry was interested in good and proper things, normal things, like sport and comic books and computer games, they were riding brooms and reading books that he could see no writing in, and they didnt even have a computer. They had no technology at all, actually. It didnt work with their magic.
And because he couldn't tell his friends about his family's weirdness, he'd had to tell them that they were ultra religious and against technology on principle. If you asked him, that was true enough. Anyone who preferred magic over computer games couldn't be right in the head.
The lack of technology in his home had, at first, caused some boys in his class to try to pick on him, but after one good beating from him, they'd shut up.
That had also been the day he'd met Hermione. She'd asked him about his family and after a bit of dodging around one another, admitted she came from a long line of magical people and hated it as much as him. Hermione was great fun, even though she had not the slightest interest in academics. Her parents at least had a little separate house on their property where she could use technology. That, and her willingness to talk back to everyone and throw a punch if backtalk didnt help had quickly elevated her to Harry's best friend.
"Children, get up, breakfast is ready" he heard his uncle call from downstairs. Harry groaned. Time for yet another boring meal full of fruit and vegetables. Apparently wixen didnt know what tasty food was. No burgers, no pizza, certainly no spicy food.
With his friends, he sometimes had competitions of who could eat the spiciest, and he was the only one who couldn't practice at home. Apparently black cuisine was more spicy than British food even in the magical world, so Hermione beat them all with ease.
He got up from his bed and got ready for the day - brushed his teeth, combed and styled his hair, and put on a pair of carefully pressed linen trousers and a dress shirt. They were a bit tight - Harry was growing and no way would he leave his nutritional needs to the Dursleys, so whenever he spent time with friends, he stuffed himself with as much normal food as he could.
Looking at the mirror, deciding he was satisfied with his appearance, he made his way downstairs.
An errant electric blue creature buzzed around his head. Harry batted at it. Pixies! He had to live with actual pixies in his own home, it was a nightmare. The little pine garden in the living room was still populated by fairies, and you could hear loud banging from a cupboard in the attic sometimes. An owl flew past him to Dudley's room. His family sometimes used his owl to send messages to one another when they didnt feel like walking or when didnt want others to know what they were talking about.
Harry jumped past the last step - it was magicked to do something or other by Dudley, and what it did changed all the time. Once, it had given everyone wild, untamed hair and Harry had been upset for hours until Uncle Vernon fixed it.
Rounding the corner, Harry blinked.
A horse. There was a winged horse with a beak standing in the middle of the living room. It was kept in a paddock that hadn't been there yesterday, surrounded by a handful of gifts, and there was a tiny man standing beside it, petting its neck.
Carefully, Harry edged past the display and into the kitchen where everything was prepared for his cousins birthday.
Bowls upon bowls of cut vegetables, a huge pot of porridge, the tiniest stack of pancakes, some bread rolls, and breakfast muffins for everyone.
On his cousins plate was a sealed letter. That would be the invitation to that magic school. Hogwarts. A dreadful name.
"Good morning, dear", his uncle said, bustling about the kitchen, squeezing oranges for juice and checking the cake in the magic oven - carrot cake, because even the cake had to be healthy - periodically.
Like always, he wore robes, not even the clothes could be normal in this place.
"Sit down, will you? But don't get started yet, Petunia and Dudley are gonna join us in a minute."
Harry sat down on his chair and, by way of greeting, asked "So you got Dudley a Pegasus for his birthday? And who's the guy with it?".
His uncle clucked his tongue and put the jug of juice on the table, followed by plates of sliced meat and sliced tomatoes from the cooling box. "Of course we didnt buy Buckbeak, we just asked Rubeus to bring him over so that Dudley can meet him, and hopefully get a ride in the garden. Petunia is outside just now to strengthen the wards".
Harry sighed. Of course. Couldn't forget about the wards. The wards that kept normal people from noticing what was happening in here and saving him from the madhouse.
He couldn't wait to finally be sent to Smelting alongside Hermione. Eight blessed months out of twelve spent in peace. And maybe he'd make some more friends with normal families, so he could stay over with them.
The door to the garden opened and his aunt made her way through. She was the one indication that wixen knew how to make tasty food after all, because she was quite fat. Probably the canteen food at her work in the Ministry. Unfortunately, she never brought any of it home.
"Good morning, Harry" she said absently as she rushed into the living room to obscure the gifts so Dudley wouldn't see them until after breakfast. He heard her talking with that Rubeus character and then the unmistakable whooshing noise that came from Dudley riding his broom downstairs. Flying brooms, it really was an absolute cliché.
A second later, he zipped through the door, followed by Aunt Petunia.
Everyone joined at the table and they started singing the same weird birthday song they did every year. Harry began mostly tuning everyone out.
He had a geography test tomorrow, and a maths test the day after, he couldn't waste his time with all these shenanigans. Unfortunately, he still had to be present for breakfast and the opening of the gifts.
Half an hour of agonizingly healthy breakfast later, they made their way into the living room. Harry paid enough attention to notice that Dudley had been given a kit for his broom, some books, and magical paint. After that, he started mentally reviewing his geography notes again, and nearly missed everyone moving into the garden so Dudley could fly on the weird feathered horse.
He looked to have loads of fun, but Harry felt nauseous just looking at him. He preferred to stay with both feet firmly on the ground, thanks.
Finally, the horse appeared to be done and landed again. At this point, Harry was permitted to leave.
He fled to his room, the only place in the house where nothing was moving on its own. He put on the gramophone - the only way you could hear normal music in this madhouse - and began studying for his exam. The Dursleys could have all the magic they wanted. Harry was going to be great on his own. Perhaps not as great as his parents - his aunt had told him they'd worked for MI5 and had been killed in line of duty - but great in some way. Maybe he'd become a politician. Or a banker. All he was sure of was that it would not include anything abnormal.