"Wake up, Harry!" Aunt Petunia's screech pierced through Harry's motorcycle dream. He jolted awake, blindly grabbing at the glasses on the bedside table. As he focused through them, he could see his fuming aunt.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia. Sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, swiftly rolling out of bed and making it.
His aunt seemed to relax a little. "Laziness is unhealthy," she chided him. "Wash up and do your homework before breakfast."
Harry nodded glumly. Uncle Vernon had recently upped the level of his homework again, so he was now four years ahead of the rest of his class. He'd only had one tutoring session so far, so he was still trying to get used to the more difficult problems. Pushed on by the pangs of hunger, Harry worked diligently through the thirty or so maths problems. Today it was mostly multiplying and adding polynomials, nothing too difficult, so Harry was able to finish in around half an hour.
Yawning, he went down to the kitchen, where Aunt Petunia was laying out a hearty breakfast for the whole family. Uncle Vernon was dressed in a fine suit, and Dudley, back from his morning jog, was gulping down a glass of orange juice.
Harry set into his breakfast, gulping it down under Aunt Petunia's critical gaze. Once he was done, she whisked away his plate and sent him to get the mail.
Harry walked back into the kitchen and placed the mail on the table.
"Can I have the tutor today?" he asked Aunt Petunia, as Uncle Vernon flipped through the mail.
Dudley slammed his hand down on the table, rattling the plates and silverware.
"No! You can't! I need the tutor!"
"Shush, Dudley," Aunt Petunia said. "You can have him when Dudley's done," she told Harry, ignoring Dudley's shriek of rage.
Uncle Vernon suddenly started ripping up one of the letters furiously.
Harry turned to see his Uncle gathering the scraps of paper, dumping them into the sink and turning on the faucet. Shaking slightly with rage, his Uncle turned back towards them, apparently focused on the ceiling.
"Harry'll get the tutor for today, Dudley," he said in a deceptively calm voice. "And tomorrow, and the day after that, until he's at Year Eleven."
"But-" Dudley protested, until Uncle Vernon's veins bulged and eyes flickered towards Dudley. Dudley stomped off to his room.
Uncle Vernon stared at the ceiling again. "You've got a few hours until the tutor arrives," he said. "I'd study hard if I were you."
Harry made his escape, but he stayed at the door to listen in on Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's conversation.
"Do you think it's too late?" Aunt Petunia sounded worried.
There was a brief silence.
"I don't know," Uncle Vernon said, "He stopped that freakishness after we made him do Dudley's homework." He sounded unsure of himself.
"Well, even if they take him away, at least Dudley's learned a strong work ethic from him."
"Don't say that, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said. "We're not letting them take him away. I still remember that awful man."
"Alright, alright, we'll keep him. With luck, the work he does will keep that freakishness at bay and they'll just forget about him."
A longer silence fell, then Uncle Vernon said, "I'll go check on him, make sure he's working hard."
Harry hurried away silently.
It was a frustrating day for Harry, working through a double heaping of math questions under the guidance of the college student who served as his tutor. All the while, Dudley fumed nearby, writing essays and studying ahead. Harry didn't know someone could write passive-aggressively, but Dudley made it work.
Lunch was a sad affair, the tutor munching through a sandwich while Harry hastily worked through his own. Vernon was off on some lunch meeting, so Harry was at least free from his occasional interruptions to confirm Harry's progress.
Uncle Vernon seemed to have calmed down by then, though, since he pronounced Harry's progress adequate and swapped the tutor over to Dudley. Harry got a double dose of homework and the promise of pudding upon completion.
With pudding in his stomach and a feeling of exhaustion, Harry went to sleep.
The next day, Harry finished up some more work before Mass. Dressed in traditional clothing, Harry suffered through a boring lecture about the importance of something-or-other. On the way back, Dudley noticed that the mailbox flag was up.
"There's no mail on Sundays," Harry said, puzzled. Uncle Vernon swiftly strode over to retrieve the mail, which he gave a brief glance before tearing it apart. Aunt Petunia looked concerned, and Dudley and Harry shared a puzzled glance. Uncle Vernon calmly ordered Harry and Dudley into the house, before engaging in a whispered conversation with Aunt Petunia.
Harry was about to get a start on the more difficult polynomial problems when Uncle Vernon entered the house and announced that they were taking an impromptu vacation.
"I'm gonna miss class!" Dudley whined.
"Don't worry, dear, you'll keep up with your work. You'll both bring it with you."
Uncle Vernon briefly paused on the stairs. "We'll be leaving in an hour and a half. No dilly-dallying."
"What's going on?" Harry asked Aunt Petunia.
"Don't worry about it. Get packing, and make sure to take your homework!"
Harry went to his room and shoveled his meager possessions into a small traveling bag. He made sure to bring his homework books. No telling what Uncle Vernon might do if he 'forgot' them. Harry remembered the last time that had happened.
Meanwhile, Dudley was alternating between whining about how he wasn't going to be able to skip another year (this would've been his third) if everyone kept holding him back, and haphazardly placing his own much greater quantity of stuff into a traveling bag.
Harry watched him from the sidelines, munching on a sandwich, until Aunt Petunia gave him the choice of helping Dudley pack or doing some extra math problems. Harry elected to do the problems.
Meanwhile, Uncle Vernon was apparently making rapid schedule changes to accomodate the sudden getaway and had been in his study, shouting at various underlings and speaking softly to his superiors. Aunt Petunia was packing for two, and she went about it with typical efficiency, popping down to the kitchen midway through to prepare some snacks for the road.
Eventually, Uncle Vernon finished his phone calls and stomped down to shout at Dudley, who began packing with much greater focus.
Half an hour behind schedule, and the family of four were driving down the highway.
"We're going rather quickly," Aunt Petunia said nervously, gazing out the window at the other cars being steadily overtaken.
"No worries," Uncle Vernon said, though he slowed down slightly.
An awkward pause predominated. Harry stared out the window, pondering the circumstances.
"So, ah, where are we going?" Harry asked.
"It's a surprise," Uncle Vernon said, testily. "Now be quiet."
Dudley had had the foresight to bring along a book to read, but he adamantly refused to share it with Harry, resulting in a swift impromptu kicking match. Dudley glared at Harry. Harry gave up. It was probably something boring anyway. The dreary England scenery passed by. Harry nodded off to sleep.
He dreamed of a flying motorcycle, and a dog in a prison cell.
"Wake up!" Dudley said.
Harry startled, then adjusted his glasses. They had arrived at a little bed-and-breakfast out in the middle of nowhere. Fields of brilliant green grass spread out across both sides of the road, interrupted only by the occasional ranch or farm. Distantly, Harry heard the bleating of sheep.
The bed-and-breakfast was a trio of small buildings, all painted pastel pink. Though the hotel appeared old and worn, it was still kept in a state of pristine cleanliness, and the flowerbeds beneath the windows were full of vibrant flowers.
"It'll be nice to see Agatha again," Uncle Vernon said cheerfully, as he dragged out the traveling bags.
"We used to come here all the time," Aunt Petunia said fondly to Harry and Dudley. "We'd go picnicking. I hope Agatha still has those honey cakes."
Uncle Vernon, Harry, and Dudley carried the traveling bags up the stone path to the central building, while Aunt Petunia followed, making various comments on the beauty of the bed-and-breakfast and Agatha's ingenuity and excellent work ethic.
They walked into the cozy inn, to see a puzzled woman behind the counter. She looked quite surprised to see them.
"Ah, Vernon!"
The three exchanged pleasantries for a while, introducing Dudley and Harry.
"Well, yes, I was wondering about that," Agatha said.
Uncle Vernon suddenly looked worried.
"Only, I got this letter, see," Agatha said, showing them.
Uncle Vernon's face darkened.
"It's addressed to me!" Harry said.
Uncle Vernon snatched it from Agatha.
"Some disturbing prank, it looks like. We've received similar letters before, you know."
Agatha looked horrified. "Well then you simply must inform the police!
"No, not at all," Vernon said, "You know those high-spirited hooligans, the best thing to do is simply to ignore them."
"But how did they know you were coming here?"
"Oh, we've been speaking about it for a good week now," Uncle Vernon chuckled. "They must've thought themselves so clever!"
"No we didn't," Dudley suddenly said.
"Quiet, now, Dudley," Aunt Petunia said.
"We didn't tell anyone we were going anywhere," Dudley insisted.
"Petunia, take Dudley and Harry up to their rooms, please," Uncle Vernon said.
Petunia rushed Harry and Dudley up the stairs.
"We don't even have a room yet," Dudley pointed out.
"Well, we'll just wait here then," Aunt Petunia said, breathless.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, "What's in that letter?"
"Never you mind about that."
"It's addressed to me. I want to read it."
Aunt Petunia frowned at him. "It's some kind of disturbing prank. You don't need nonsense like that filling up your head; it'll give you nightmares."
"Well if it's just a prank, then why is Uncle Vernon so upset about it?" Harry asked.
Aunt Petunia gave him a long look. "If you must know, the disturbing nonsense in the letter happens to be similar to another nonsensical prank that someone played on your mother a long time ago. It was very hurtful and, well," Aunt Petunia hesitated, "it caused your mother and I to be…distant from each other for a long time. Vernon knows about it and he doesn't want us to get hurt."
Harry digested that. Dudley looked interested.
Uncle Vernon showed up eventually, with the keys to their rooms.
"Took a while, but I calmed her down. We've got adjacent rooms. We'll have an early night and
go have fun picnicking tomorrow. You can all hear Agatha's stories. It'll be fun!"
"What about the letter?" Dudley asked. Uncle Vernon frowned at him.
"Never mind that. To the rooms!"
Uncle Vernon led them to the two rooms.
"This'll be your and Harry's room," Uncle Vernon said, opening the door. "Don't worry about your homework for today. You can-"
Aunt Petunia hissed, "You!"
"Me," a slimy voice came from the dark room. Aunt Petunia flipped the switch.
In the room's only chair sat a tall, thin man with long, greasy black hair. He was dressed in strange black robes and held a roll of parchment loosely in his hand. He sneered at them.
"You," he said, pointing at Harry.
"Me?" Harry asked.
Aunt Petunia stood in front of Harry protectively.
"I won't let you take him!"
"You?" the man asked, amused.
"Me," Aunt Petunia confirmed.
"What is going on?!" Dudley asked.
"You never told him?" the man asked. Then he chuckled. "No, of course you didn't."
He raised his voice. "You're a wizard, Harry."