Prologue:
"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him," he said.
"Actually, we can," said Petunia, her voice even shriller than usual from fright. "We're his legal guardians."
"Exactly," Vernon supported.
"And," Petunia's voice was regaining its usual nagging quality, "if your Professor Dumbledore" (she spat the name) "has any objections, then you may remind him that the minute he sets foot in that school, he will no longer be welcome in our house. He may no longer call it home, you understand me?"
"Whatter you mean?" asked Hagrid confused.
"Oh, right. I'd forgotten Dumbledore is so very fond of his secrets. Well you just tell him what I said. I guarantee, he'll accept my word as final when he hears. Now, Vernon, Dudley, Harry, let's go home."
"But I want to go to this Hogwarts place," said Harry almost pathetically.
"You're going to Stonewall High and that's final," Petunia said grabbing Harry's arm and marching him to the door. Hagrid must have seen something in her expression, as he did not attempt to stop her.
"Don' worry, Harry. I'll talk ter Dumbledore. He'll help. I promise yer," Hagrid told him, but Petunia's confidence made Harry reluctant to believe him.
The drive back to number four Privet Drive took most of the night. Once they had returned, Petunia insisted that Dudley and Uncle Vernon go straight to bed, and as she still had that indescribable something in her expression, none of them argued.
"Not you boy," she said briskly as Harry made to follow them. She gestured for Harry to follow her into the kitchen. He sat and she gave him a piece of treacle tart, and gave the curt direction, "Eat!" Surprised, Harry hesitated then took a bite. As he ate his tart, Petunia opened the window and began to smoke a cigarette with her back turned to him. Harry's surprise increased. He had never known his aunt to smoke, but he knew better than to ask. "You probably hate me quite a bit right now, don't you?" Harry did not answer, but his silence spoke volumes. She turned to face him. "What I did, I did for your own good. That world… it's not right. It's not safe. One day, when you're older, you'll understand."
Harry finished his tart, and asked if he could be excused. Petunia nodded. He headed for the door then paused realizing he did not know which room was his anymore. "Er… Aunt Petunia? Am I still in Dudley's second bedroom?"
"I don't see why not. Like we said, you'd gotten too big for that cupboard."
He turned to the door again, but before he could go, his aunt spoke again, "And Harry, happy birthday."
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Luna Earnshaw