Harry Potter was currently sitting on his bed, eating candy. Uncle Vernon and Aunt petunia had decided on a last minute notice to go visit aunt Marge's to see her new bulldog. He was permitted snacks only if he swore on his life to not steal anything else from the kitchen, which he did. Being a wizard, obviously, he could just use his inner magic to teleport items out of the refrigerator with no hassle; it wasn't "stealing", technically. He was fixed upon the television screen, fascinated, for he had never been near a T.V. because his devious aunt and uncle wanted to squash the magic out of him. He oh-so wanted to look at the little people walking around the screen, but, unfortunately, it made him seem as stupid as ickle Ronnikins. Oh well, maybe some other day…
