"I don't know why you still live here, Vernon." Aunt Marge complained as she tossed her suitcase at my feet. Wanting to start an argument immediately, I clenched my teeth together and lugged the massive suitcase upstairs before anyone could give me a second glance that could make me burst. Ordinarily, if that had happened, I would've given her a look and told her to carry it herself, but I had the single motivation of Hogsmeade to push me through it. I thought I heard Aunt Marge smothering Dudley downstairs and groaned quietly. I entered the bathroom and removed my hair from the bun it had been in when I fell asleep the previous night. I yanked it from the holder and watched the jet black, board straight mass cascade down my shoulders. I ran a brush through and fixed my rectangular glasses. The round ones had broken a while ago, and they didn't make those frames anymore. These were the cheapest ones they had. I walked back downstairs to the living room. She was still all over Dudley which looked beyond wrong. If this had been a normal visit, I would've made a perverted comment, but Hogsmeade's beckoning was the only thing that made me hold my very loose tongue. After she'd slipped Dudley the money he was used to getting for this sort of treatment, she looked up at me.

"I was wondering when you'd show up. Still living here I assume."

"Yes." I answered through my teeth angrily, wondering if a dash to my cupboard was worth it.

"Well, that's awfully ungrateful to say to the people who've feed and clothed you for twelve years! Honestly Vernon, I don't know why you've kept her this long." I smiled innocently, yet dishonestly at Uncle Vernon.

"Sometimes I wonder too, Marge." He replied, directing it particularly at me. Again, I smiled semi-sweetly, but I knew it wouldn't help my position in the matter. If the week had started like this, thing could only go downhill from here. Everyone proceeded into the kitchen, but Uncle Vernon grabbed my shoulder before I could make a run for my cupboard.

"Can I help you?" I asked bitterly, ripping his hand from my shoulder.

"We haven't told Marge anything about… recent events, and we plan to keep it that way. If she asks where you go to school, I'll answer."

"But what if my tongue happens to slip? Is that enough incentive to sign the form early? If you sign it early, I won't talk for the week either, and I'll actually do what you tell me to." I persuaded. He thought about it for a minute, clearly realizing this was a good deal.

"Absolutely not. Our agreement still stands, but with those things added in. No arguments. Now go fix your hair." He walked to the kitchen to join who I swore was his identical twin, whether she was a women or not. I'd just fixed my hair, but it had an unhealthy habit of becoming messed up within a matter of seconds. I opened the cupboard door and turned on the light bulb. Hedwig, who'd been sleeping, squawked at me.

"What was that?" Aunt Marge's voice boomed. Quickly, I shut the cupboard door and told Hedwig to be quiet. She glared at me, and Errol next to her raised his sleepy head. I fixed my hair again in the cracked mirror I'd taken from my dorm room. I opened Hedwig's cage and took her and Errol out. I discreetly opened the front door and shut it just as quietly. I re-tied my letter to Ron to Hedwig's leg and set both of the owls off to the Burrow. I re-entered the house and stood against the wall in the kitchen, not wanting to sit down because this would make an easy getaway when she started on me and my parents. Marge noticed me and looked at me dead on. I swallowed nervously; actually worried my tongue would slip. If it did, well, let's just say I would never be leaving that cupboard.

"Vernon, where did you say you're sending her?" she asked, still staring at me.

"Um, well, uh…" He stuttered, clearly having not thought of an alibi. I decided not to save his ass, just to save my own. If she asked me though, I'd be stuttering more than he was now. Eventually, he came up with something, but I was too far away to listen to what it was.

"Do they beat you there?" She asked me, snapping me back to reality. That was a seriously weird question, but I knew the answer she wanted.

"Oh, yeah, all the time. I'm a particularly hopeless they like to say." I adlibbed instantly. It was instinct by now after living here for twelve years. Ripper growled at me, looking up from his dish on the floor.

"Petunia, you should right. Tell them to beat her harder. She clearly hasn't had enough discipline." I wanted to tell her about the detentions I'd gotten at school to make me seem disciplined enough, but all of them would require an explanation. I was pretty sure Uncle Vernon didn't want me telling her about the dragon egg or the flying car, so I just kept my mouth shut. I wanted to make a run for it, annoyed with all of the punches I taking in there. I was frustrated, but I had to keep thinking of Hogsmeade or my broomstick kit from Hermione. Yeah, maybe that would help. In the meantime, I would just have to deal with this crap. Let me say one thing about that bull: Shit.