The 25th of July dawned a bright and sunny day. Vernon Dursley woke to a quiet house, a quiet street, and a quiet neighbourhood, which was exactly how he liked it. He rolled over onto his back and scratched his fat, hairy stomach. With a yawn, he threw his feet over the side of the bed and sat up, feeling along for his slippers. He slipped his scaly feet inside and slid on a house coat before he left his large bedroom. As he padded along the hallway, he tried his best to tie up his house coat but couldn't make the ends of the rope reach. He walked downstairs, pausing on the last step to breath in the heavenly smell of sizzling bacon, frying eggs, and bubbling coffee. Walking into the kitchen, he looked around to make sure everything was in order. At the table, his wife sat as beautiful as always, reading the paper and pushing up her hair. His handsome son sat at the table, his eyes glued to the TV Vernon had set up in the kitchen just for him. His eyes fell on his ugly, repulsive, stupid nephew who was frying eggs. Deciding nothing could ruin this perfect day, he ignored the abomination of hair on his nephew's head and moved on to the table, sliding into a seat next to his darling wife. He wiggled this way and that, jumping up and down until he finally squeezed past the arm rests and planted his bottom on the seat.
"Good morning darling," his wife greeted him, handing him the paper and planting a slobbery kiss on top of his head. She looked over at their nephew, frowning. "Harry! Hurry up Harry! Where's our coffee?" she snapped. Turning back to her husband, she became all smiles and gooey-eyed again. Several of Vernon's colleagues hated when women treated them differently than everyone else. But Vernon loved it. If some lady would hang on to your every word, do as you say, and treat you like God, she was a keeper. And Petunia did that for him.
Harry, his nephew brought over the coffee and served them all bacon and eggs, knowing to give extra to Vernon. Vernon needed to have more than everyone else. He needed the newest and the best. If someone else were to have more bacon on their plate than Vernon, he would take it as a personal insult.
"Where's the mail boy?" Vernon asked angrily, raising his bushy unibrow. As Harry left the kitchen to get the mail, Vernon sighed and rolled his eyes. "I swear that boy is a retard. Something went wrong in that distorted womb of your sister," he muttered to Petunia. Harry returned quickly. He was, in a way, like Petunia. He followed orders and knew not to cross the line. But, unlike Petunia, Harry did it all out of spite and fear. It gave everything an ugly feeling that Vernon hated.
Harry walked around the kitchen, handing bills to Vernon and catalogues to Petunia. But suddenly, he stopped and Dudley cried out, "Harry's got a letter!" Vernon watched as Dudley snatched the letter out of Harry's hands and was chased around the kitchen by Harry.
"Enough!" Vernon cried out. He took the letter from Dudley's strong (otherwise known as fat) hands and turned it over. He read the return address, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Paling, Vernon showed the letter to Petunia. She too paled and sweat broke out over her brow. They shared a knowing glance and Vernon shoved the letter into his pocket. "Well, that was a mistake," he explained, sitting back down and trying to act normally.
"No it wasn't! It had my name and bedroom on it!" Harry protested, stomping his foot.
"Shut up boy!" Vernon snapped. He paused as he saw Harry's frustrated fist crumple another white envelope. He took it out of his hand, beginning to uncrumple it from the messy ball it was in. "Look at you, trying to hide another let-" He stopped abruptly as he saw the address.
Mr. D Dursley
The two big bedrooms upstairs
4 Privet Drive,
Little Whinging,
Surrey
Petunia looked at it and froze, paralyzed from the shock. Vernon crumpled it back up and stuffed it into his pocket with the other letter. Harry and Dudley exchanged confused looks at Vernon's and Petunia's behavior.
"Petunia, I think you shrunk my house coat as it won't do up," Vernon said as he sat down. They tried their best to carry on a normal breakfast conversation, but their minds were elsewhere. How could they have been so ignorant and so scared to ignore a fact like this? They had seen all the signs in Harry. He had made things blow up, his hair had grown seven inches overnight. They had held onto the idea that their real son was normal. That they weren't completely crazy. There was still a normal child that they could put all their hopes and dreams into, which they could spoil and pamper. But, now that they thought about it, they had seen the signs in Dudley too. They had just chosen to ignore them, determined to have a normal child. But he was not a normal child.
They carried on like that, pretending everything was normal. But nothing was normal. Nothing would ever be normal again.