Prologue
I followed him downstairs, watched him skip past the creaking stair, and land with a dull 'thump' on the floor.
"Harry!" I hissed, not wanting to be caught by one evil Dursley.
"I'm fine Mandy, calm down for once." He said calmly as he adjusted his glasses. I sighed and shook my head.
"Can't you just wait until tomorrow morning? I heard Petunia is making oatmeal or something." I tried to discourage him.
"And I'll pro'lly get the last burnt scrapings of it, no doubt actually." I couldn't argue; it happened everyday. We reached the kitchen successfully. Harry opened a cabinet door and reached in. When he pulled his hand back out, they grasped a box of Oreo Cookies. Harry quickly stuffed one in his mouth.
"Get a glaf of milk, would'ja?" He managed to say, his mouth filled with cookie-goodness. I flapped over to the fridge and grabbed the milk and a cup.
"Hurry up you sloppy pig!" I rushed him. Then, I heard a 'thud' upstairs.
"That definitely wasn't Dudley rolling on his bed," Harry said quietly.
"HURRY UP!" I hissed as quietly as possible.
"Who's there?" said the groggy voice of a very angry and tired Uncle Vernon.
"What do I do?!" Harry cried out.
"Magic you idiot! MAGIC!" I knew Harry hadn't mastered any spell good enough to get us out of this mess, but still, I screamed at him.
"HIDE! QUICKLY!" Harry shouted in a panic as he dived under the dining table. I hovered into a cupboard and slapped it shut. I could hear the muffled 'pit-pats' of Uncle Vernon's slippers on the hard tile floor. He flicked the switch on and raised his bat.
"Come out you bloody robber, I'll find you!" He said. After a couple seconds, he lowered his bat and started walking towards the cupboard I was confined in.
"Argh, it's time for a good snacking anyways." He reached in . . .
The neighborhood was awakened by a yell . . .
"POTTER!"
Author's note: Hey y'all! What's up? Yeah, I know, I haven't written a new story in years. So, here's a humor one. Supposedly, this is supposed to get you interested. So, read on y'all!