"It's been three weeks Vernon," Petunia said tentatively. "And with those bars on his windows! What will the neighbours say?"
"Don't worry about it," Vernon said dismissively. "There's no law against putting bars on windows. We can always say it's for his own protection. Stops him trying to jump out and do himself in."
"I just don't want any of them finding out about it," Petunia said in hurried whisper. "If he doesn't make it back to school…"
"I won't have it. Petunia!" Vernon growled. "Not in this house. I won't be bullied by a bunch of-"
Vernon paused in mid-rant, his eyes widening in alarm as if he had been just about to say a particularly nasty curse word. He closed his mouth, defiantly, and plucked the newspaper from the kitchen counter, leaving without another word. Petunia watched her husband walk away, looking quite crestfallen.
Vernon Dursley might not have fully appreciated the gravity of the situation, but Petunia did. Their nephew wasn't a normal boy, even by 'their' standards. He was famous! He was Harry Potter – the boy who lived. Petunia couldn't help but imagine how much simpler her life might be if the boy hadn't lived at all. These bitter thoughts ran through Petunia's mind as she shuffled around her spotless kitchen, checking on the ham in the oven and pouring yet another can of soup into a bowl. They certainly were getting through them. Three a day, every day! Still, it was the cheapest way to feed the boy.
"It's all your fault. Lily! Why did you have to get yourself blown up and leave me to pick up the pieces? He's your son not mine! It's not like I ever had the first clue how to-"
And it hit her like a freight train. Petunia fought her hardest, but she couldn't stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes. It had been almost twelve years since her sister had died. She remembered the night she'd heard about her sister's murder. She hadn't cried then, but every now and then she seemed to 'forget herself.'
She dried her eyes on a dainty white handkerchief, thinking of Vernon and what he might say if he came back into the kitchen. She couldn't let herself think about that. It was over! Lily was dead and her blasted son would be out of their house in a few years. God knows he wouldn't darken their doorstep again after the way they'd treated him. They'd made sure to burn all bridges preemptively.
Picking up the bowl of cold soup, she made her way up the stairs. Her hands were shaking a little, barely managing to keep the soup from spilling all over the floor. She couldn't pretend she thought locking their nephew up in his room for the rest of his adolescence was going to work. All it took was for one nosey neighbour to call child protective services. And that was if his lotdidn't come and get him first.
She approached the door to the smallest bedroom in the house, which was secured by about half a dozen locks. The catflap was the only way anything could get in or out. The boy was allowed to use the bathroom twice a day, but other then that he was locked in at all times. His snowy owl was in there with him. It was difficult to say whether or not the blasted thing could survive on whatever soup the boy was prepared to share with it. It didn't concern Petunia, or Vernon, in the least. The bird had been nothing but trouble and the sooner it 'went away' the better.
Petunia shoved the bowl of soup through the catflap carelessly, no doubt spilling some of it in the process. She heard a scramble from inside the room and the bowl had been picked up before she'd even snapped the flap shut. The boy was starving. Petunia could tell. Her son, Dudley, consumed more in one meal then the boy did in a week. But Dudley was herson!
Marching back down the stairs, Petunia couldn't help but wonder how this was going to turn out. She really should talk to Vernon again. They really couldn't keep this up. Someone would eventually find out and they could get into serious trouble. Nonetheless, she couldn't pretend she disagreed with Vernon in principal. If the boy was confined to his room, it was so much easier to pretend he didn't exist. They didn't have to see him, hear his voice or wonder where he was. And those eyes… Petunia didn't have to look into those brilliant green eyes. Every time she locked eyes with her nephew (which wasn't often) she felt as if Lily was in the room. It was cause for discomfort and certainly not the kind of thing she wanted to be thinking about.
"Mum I'm home! Where's dinner!" Dudley's voice boomed from the hallway.
"Dinner?" Vernon's voice also boomed, even louder, from the living room. There was the pounding of heavy footsteps as Vernon and Dudley both made their way into the kitchen. Petunia was already back in the kitchen, having already pulled the large ham out of the oven. Dudley gazed at it, greedily while Vernon went into the fridge for another larger.
"Looks delicious. Dear," he remarked as he cracked open the can and took a generous gulp. "Nothing like a good bit of ham on a Sunday. Eh Dudley?"
"Only a week to go until you go back to Smeltings, sweetums," Petunia cooed as she handed Vernon the best carving knife. "I can't send my Diddykins off without feeding him up a bit more."
Dudley, by all accounts, got more then his fair share at Smeltings, but Petunia was still mistrustful. She didn't want Dudley undernourished, least he turn out like the boy upstairs.
"Come here Dudley my boy," Vernon said merrily, setting his larger down on the bench and approaching the ham with the knife in hand. "Let me show you how to carve a ham."
Needless to say, Dudley's ham-carving abilities left a lot to be desired. Vernon took over shortly after Dudley gave up carving and concentrated on eating the few pieces tattered pieces he had managed to carve. Vernon chuckled, patting the boy on the back and remarking on his 'healthy appetite.' Petunia just smiled and saw to the vegetables (which Dudley wouldn't touch and Vernon only would reluctantly). It was good to see them so happy. If only it could be this way all the time. Maybe it was for the best that the boy was locked up in his room…
"You let those freaks destroy your family. Lily. I won't let them destroy mine!"
"MUM!" Dudley cried through a mouthful of ham. Petunia looked up and gasped. It was an owl! The pest had swooped right through the open window (which Petunia was sure had been closed a few moments ago). A look of terror crossed her face as Vernon started yelling and shooing the bird out.
"Go on! Shoo! Ruddy bird! Dudley go open the front."
The hawk-like owl continued to fly around the room, darting in Petuina's direction. She shrieked and ducked for cover under the kitchen counter. Just as she did so, a letter was dropped right on top of her. And, in two seconds flat, the owl had darted out the same window it had come through, which Vernon quickly slammed shut.
"Outrageous! Who do they think they-"
Vernon paused, staring at the letter in Petunia's hand as if it might explode. He turned to Dudley.
"Go into the living room. Dudley," he ordered. Dudley followed his father's glance towards the letter in his mother's hand and shook his head.
"I want to know what it says!"
"OUT!" Vernon growled.
"I want to know what it-"
"GET OUT OR THERE'LL BE NO MORE HAM FOR YOU!"
The prospect of not getting more then his fair share of ham seemed to outweigh his desire to see what the letter said. He left, reluctantly, and only then did Petunia open the letter. Vernon peering over her shoulder as she read:
To whom it may concern
If Harry Potter does not board the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross on the 1st of September, there will be dire consequences for you and your family.
You have been warned.
Petunia started shaking so hard it looked as if she'd tear the letter in two. Vernon saved her the trouble, snatching up the letter and tearing it to shreds viciously.
"Threats!" he barked. "Who do they think they are? We can send that boy wherever we damn well please!"
"Vernon. We have to do what they say," Petunia said shakily. "There's no telling what they'll do if we don't."
"Ah Petunia," Vernon said, an uncharacteristically sly smile crossing his face. "You just wait. That boy's going to crack any minute. Don't you see? Soon he'll use his er… abnormalities to get out of that room. And, when he does, they'll expel him! You remember what that other ruddy letter said?"
"But what if he doesn't try and escape?" Petunia asked. "What if he's waiting for them to come and get him?"
"Hmmm," Vernon murmured, a wicked look in his eyes. "What if we stopped feeding him?"
"Stopped-?"
"Think about it Petunia! He's already starving. The little sod has been living off soup for three weeks. If we stop feeding him all together, he'll crack within a day."
"I don't know about this Vernon. I don't like the little beast any more then you. But not feeding him altogether. He already looks terrible…"
"Oh it'll only be for a day or two. Just to push him over the edge," Vernon reassured his wife. "After that we'll give him a decent ruddy meal and be done with the whole business. He'll be expelled and we'll never have to hear from them again."
Petunia froze, knowing this might just be the only way to finally sever ties, permanently, with the wizarding world she so hated. But could she do it? Could she let a twelve-year-old boy starve, even if it was Harry?
"Alright Vernon," Petunia sighed. "But only for a few days. God knows they'd lock us up and throw away the key if word of this got out."
"A few days is more the enough time. You just wait."
"And you still have to let him use the bathroom," Petunia said, glaring at Vernon as if daring him to object. Vernon opened his mouth to do so, but knew it would be going a bit far to expect his wife to put up with the boy soiling the floor of his room.
"Fine," Vernon grunted, checking his watch. "It's about time I go up there anyway."
And with that, Vernon made for the stairs, leaving Petunia to watch and worry. Could they really do it? Could they really take Harry Potter – the boy who lived, out of the wizarding world for good.