Vernon Dursley was a very large man. He was a director at Grunnings, married to Petunia Dursley and had a son called Dudley. They lived on Privet Drive No 4 and had the perfect life. The day when all witches and wizards raise their glasses to Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived was the weirdest and the most uncomfortable day in the life of one Vernon Dursley. He woke up late and was therefore unable to have his 'hearty breakfast' that his loving wife had made. As he made his way to the car, he noticed something that made him turn his head, he saw a cat. That in itself was not out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was the fact that this cat with black fur was sitting on a bench, ramrod straight and fixing him with a piercing gaze that made him look away. 'Wait, what? I am not going to be intimidated by some dumb feline.' He stared right back at the cat, fixing it with his most piercing gaze and almost patted himself on the back because the cat turned away and trotted off. Chuckling to himself he got into his car and backed out of the driveway that led to Privet Drive and set off to get to work. On his way to work he found himself in a traffic jam. 'Probably some trollop that doesn't know how to drive causing all of this fuss' he muttered to himself. When the reason for the jam showed itself, he nearly ran his car into the car in-front of him. 'Who in the hell are these people?' he thought to himself. "Are those bloody robes?" Vernon exclaimed after he found his voice. They looked so absurd and out of place that almost everyone turned their heads to observe those people. 'Probably trying to make some sort of political statement.' he thought to himself. But an unease flickered in his big belly, these people looked like one of those. He finally pulled up into his place of work and after yelling at his assistant to not disturb him, he slammed his door shut and got to work. Work always made him forget about all other distractions.
-

The black cat that Vernon Dursley saw outside his home slunk back into the garden of No 4 and seemed to stare at the house unblinkingly as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Back at Grunnings, it was lunch break, and Vernon immediately bustled out of his office to grab some food. On his way to the bakery near his office he stumbled into one of those people. He glared at the person and immediately went inside where, surprise, there were more of those people and they were talking among themselves excitedly. He kept hearing the word potter and harry, it was at this moment when he realized these were WIZARDS and WITCHES, and if he wasn't mistaken they were talking about his nephew. He hurried back to his office and after shouting at his secretary some more and again slamming his door shut. He got to his phone and immediately dialed his wife's number but stopped himself and hung-up his phone. After all, Harry was a very common name, there was no need to worry his wife over nothing. After all, her sister's name was practically taboo in the Dursley household. So it was with a slightly happier mood that he left Grunnings, only to have his newly found good mood vanish when he saw that same bloody cat. Only this time it wasn't sitting on the bench, it was in HIS bloody garden. He'd had enough of that bloody cat and attempted to shoo it away only to have it fix him with another piercing glare and Vernon Dursley at this moment thought he was being judged by a cat. A bloody cat. A bloody fucking cat. With that last thought in his head he walked to his door and slammed it shut. After having some dinner, courtesy of his beautiful wife, he sat on is couch and turned on the telly only to have his mood deteriorate even more. The weather channel was reporting bizarre conditions around the world with a large surge in the viewing of owls. Now, Vernon Dursley was no foolish man. He knew it all had something to do with their lot. So it was with an uneasy feeling that he went to bed that night.
-

A man wearing garishly orange robes and a long beard that reached his knees , thin as a stick with a broken nose with glasses perched on said nose appeared out of nowhere with a pop. He withdrew a Lighter like thing from his robes and clicked it. Slowly but surely, all the street lights went out and was stored in that tiny lighter. This man was Albus Dumbledore. He was currently walking with a purpose, a serene look on his face which turned into a smile when he noticed the black cat at his destination. "Professor McGonagall, why are you here when all of Magical Britain is out there currently celebrating?" he queried his eyes twinkling. He watched as the cat turned into tall woman with a face that indicated her age and also a stern expression as she looked upon her mentor and most trusted companion. "Professor Dumbledore", she said with a stern expression on her face which gave way to a pleading look," Please, I beg of you to reconsider our decision. Harry Potter must not be allowed to live with these... these muggles. They are some the most self-centered and bigoted people I have seen. They will not give Harry the proper nurture that he so desperately need. Als-". Professor McGonagall was stopped mid-speech when Professor Dumbledore raised his hand, uncharacteristically grim look on his face as he spoke," We have discussed this before professor, Harry needs to grow up with his family away from the wizarding world to ensure that no rogue death eater should harm him. The blood wards that I have erected around this house should prov-" Professor McGonagall hissed angrily, not unlike that of cat and spat angrily," You had said the same thing when Lily and James went into hiding. You had promised us that the Fidelius was all that they need, and look at where they are now, DEAD!" she broke off sobbing. Dumbledore looked as if he had aged a thousand years in a few seconds before he responded," It was not my fault that Lily and James put their faith in the wrong person. It is not my fault that Sirius Black turned his back on them." At this Professor McGonagall sobbed harder. " It is for the best Minerva. I promise you, no harm shall befall Harry Potter. He is after all family to the Dursleys."