Petunia didn't have to wait long. It seemed impossible an owl could have flown to the school and back in so short a time. Of course, she really had no idea where the school was and she had no idea if that Dumbledore person was even at the school. Lily had said the owls were good at finding people.
Or, maybe it was just magic.
Petunia allowed herself a small chuckle as she undid the tie holding a note to the small owl's leg. She offered the bird a bit of meat left over from Dudley's dinner plate which caused the owl to hoot happily before taking off with its payment.
My Dear Mrs. Dursley, (the note read)
What a pleasure it was to get your letter just now. As I'm sure you will learn soon, Hogwarts does not offer a summer schedule. Hagrid (my "man" as you so politely described him) will be returning Harry to you shortly. Once they have completed shopping for school supplies, Harry will—once again—be delivered to your doorstep. Harry will have all the information he needs to be transported to school on September 1, opening day.
The school is open, if minimally staffed, during both Winter and Spring breaks. I would be delighted if young Mr. Potter would be so kind as to stay with us during those times.
As to your question about the protection. It is really very simple. As long as Harry's home is with you—his only remaining blood relative, the sister of his mother—the protection will remain throughout his childhood.
From a practical sense, what this means is that as long as Harry "comes home" to you at least once a year and spends part of the summer at "home" the protection will remain. It is not necessary for Harry to spend the entire summer with you, only that he "come home to you" before beginning any other adventures.
I do hope I have made this clear. If you have any other questions please feel free to send an owl at any time.
Yours most sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizadry
Petunia sighed. While this was far better than she'd hoped, it was clearly far worse than what Vernon had in mind. Just knowing that Harry would be showing up soon was probably going to be very upsetting for the entire household.
Still, it was probably best if he wasn't surprised.
Making her way to the library, Petunia stopped and poured Vernon a drink before approaching him.
"Here, you may want this" She held up the piece of parchment, knowing Vernon would recognize it was a response. "I'm afraid it's not very good."
Petunia hoped that by making it sound dark and dire, Vernon would focus on the better aspects of the letter. Contradicting her was one of his favorite hobbies—even if it meant pointing out that he wasn't getting what he wanted.
Vernon took the glass and tossed back half of the brown liquid. "What's it say, then?"
"Do you want me to read it?"
"No, blast it! Just tell me what it says!" With that, he finished off the drink.
"Well, Harry isn't gone. He'll be back today."
"WHAT?!"
Petunia hastily grabbed the glass and scurried over to refill it while Vernon fought to get his sputtering under control.
Handing him his glass, now more than twice as full as before, she took a breath.
"He'll be back today. I guess that this is just a shopping trip. School doesn't start until September first, and they don't have a summer session."
"You mean he'll be coming back here for the breaks! What the hell good is it to have him in the damned school if they won't even keep him?"
Vernon was getting a touch flushed in the face now and seemed a bit wobbly on his feet. Petunia directed him into a chair while appearing to study the letter again.
"Wait, look here!" She stabbed a finger at the letter and pointed it Vernon's barely focusing eyes. "You're right! It says the school is staffed during Winter and Spring breaks!"
Vernon didn't bother trying to work out how this made him "right", he just accepted that, as is so often the case, he was, yet again, right. "Of course I'm right, you foolish woman! Why would you ever think a school like that would close down for something so silly as Spring break?"
Petunia didn't bother reminding Vernon that her sister had always returned home for every break, or that, until recently, his knowledge of Hogwarts consisted solely of "it exists and teaches witches and wizards". If he now fancied himself to be an expert on magical schools, she was not going to argue with him.
"Oh, and Vernon, I'm forgetting…there's something else." Pretending to search the page again…"Here…it says he needn't spend the entire summer with us, as long as he comes home from school to be here… So, maybe he can spend some time away, I'm sure he'll make friends at school and the like".
"Friends! Hah. Bloody unlikely. Who'd want to be friends with that freak?"
Petunia thought this was harsh, even for Vernon and really wished the whiskey would get busy. Harry's return would go a whole lot better if Vernon weren't overly aware of it.
"Well, Vernon…don't you think those people might not think he's a freak?"
"Only because they're bloody freaks themselves!" Vernon pounded the now empty glass onto the end table, causing Petunia to jump just a bit.
"More, dear?"
"More WHAT?"
"To drink, dear…would you like more to drink?" Petunia knew that Vernon could hold his liquor—years of practice did that to a person—but she'd been very generous with her helpings and had already poured almost third of a bottle into him. She wanted to give him that little push into utterly unconsciously drunk, but thought it would be best if he asked for the last drink. That way, when he was hung over and angry tomorrow, she could honestly say it was his decision, she hadn't tricked him.
Vernon looked at his glass, seeming to have difficulty deciding if it was really empty or not. Shoving the glass toward Petunia he grunted "More".
"Of course, dear!" Petunia once more poured Vernon a drink. This time she kept it small as she didn't think he was going to need much more. His eyes were already starting to droop.
"Here you go…drink up now! Don't worry yourself, I'm sure you'll get this all under control tomorrow."
Vernon finished off the glass, looked blearily at Petunia and muttered, barely recognizable, "Morrow?"
"Yes, tomorrow! Why don't I see you off to bed now, I'll just straighten up a few things and then tomorrow we can work out the details."
One thing about being drunk, vague concepts like "work out the details" were easily shrugged off and words like "bed" seemed particularly attractive. Vernon allowed himself to be led to the bedroom and even helped into his pajamas. Petunia had just turned out the light when she heard sounds outside the front door. Wanting to avoid the doorbell being rung at all costs, she practically flew down the stairs, trying to call out "I'm coming" without actually yelling it….She threw the door open, ready to tell the giant he couldn't come in, only to find Harry standing there with a bag full of books and things she didn't recognize in one hand and a cage holding a beautiful white owl in the other.
"Go on then! Hurry up to your room! And don't wake your Uncle or cousin!"
Harry stepped in, confused. Uncle Vernon never went to sleep this early. Still, when he remembered the past few days, nailing up mail slots, driving cross country, rowing a boat to the middle of a lake, he could see how a bit of rest might be in order for his uncle.
Hauling his stuff upstairs was sufficiently tricky that he didn't think to ask Aunt Petunia any questions. Tossing his bag on the floor and setting Hedwig on the desk, he turned to find Aunt Petunia almost out the door. She pressed her finger to her mouth and whispered "I don't know what's going to happen. Please don't talk unless he speaks to you first." She backed out, shutting the door.
The next morning, Harry was back to helping Petunia serve up breakfast. Normally a breakfast for 4 people wouldn't require more than one person to make it, but since Dudley alone needed 6 eggs, a half pound of bacon, 4 biscuits and almost a quart of orange juice, 4 hands were better than 2. Uncle Vernon came in and glared briefly at Harry before sinking into his chair. Dudley came in, gave a squeak of fear only to have his father hush him! "There's nothing here to worry us, Dudley, don't even think about him, pretend he's already gone."
Dudley didn't have quite as easy a time pretending Harry wasn't there. But, then again, Dudley currently sported a pig tail that had to be uncomfortable when he sat down and couldn't have been pleasant under any circumstances. Harry decided that a frightened Dudley was far more pleasant than an angry, mean Dudley anyway. And, Uncle Vernon pretending he wasn't there was certainly more pleasant than Vernon yelling at him for no reason. Aunt Petunia seemed frightened and Harry wasn't quite sure why. He often caught her cutting nervous glances at Uncle Vernon as though waiting for something to happen. She got even thinner than usual in the weeks leading up to the start of term.
On the last day of August Harry thought he'd better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so he went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.
"Er -- Uncle Vernon?"
Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.
"Er -- I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to -- to go to Hogwarts."
Uncle Vernon grunted again.
"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"
Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes.
"Thank you."
He was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.
"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got
punctures, have they?" Harry didn't say anything.
"Where is this school, anyway?"
"I don't know," said Harry, realizing this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket."I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.
His aunt and uncle stared.
"Platform what?"
"Nine and three-quarters."
"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."
Petunia held her tongue, knowing full well that Harry would be able to get to the train once he got to the station. She remembered those "back to school" trips from her youth and there were always loads of oddly dressed people about who she was sure were sending kids off to Hogwarts.
"It's on my ticket."
"Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."
"Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly.
"Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."
Harry tried desperately to suppress a grin at the thought of Dudley's tail and told himself that it was no doubt painful and embarrassing so he should definitely not find it funny. Turning, Harry raced up the stairs two at a time and flung himself on his bed, burying his laughter in the pillows. Tomorrow, he would be free of the lot of them. Scaredy Aunt Petunia, Angry Uncle Vernon and Piggy Tailed Cousin Dursley.
For the first time in his life, Harry went to sleep at Number 4, Privet Drive, with a smile on his face.
Harry woke at five o'clock the next morning. The Dursley's however, stayed in bed until 7. Harry was almost in a panic thinking they couldn't possibly make it to the station on time. Of course, they did.
They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.
"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine -- platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"
He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.
Petunia glanced around and, as expected, noted any number of oddly dressed sorts bustling youngsters loaded to the brim with trunks and animals. Harry would have no trouble finding someone to help him, once Vernon got out of the way. Harry, in his oversized clothes, government issued glasses and that nasty scar on his head couldn't fail to attract attention and sympathy from this group.
Petunia found herself suppressing a smile as she thought that, for awhile at least, things would be good for both her and for Harry. Once he got on that train, Petunia would have less to worry about and Harry would certainly be having adventures.
"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile.
Vernon came toward her, laughing a nasty laugh. Petunia allowed herself to laugh too, though she knew full well she wasn't laughing at the same thing at all. Vernon would never know and it felt good, after all that had happened, to laugh.
