Dudley Dursley was not a happy boy.
"I don't wanna go!" he screamed furiously at his red faced, sweating father who was currently shoving items into several boxes messily, and packing suitcases full of clothes.
"But Dudders-"
"I want to stay! It's Piers' birthday party in a week! We're going to Laser Zone and then Mc Donalds! And if we go I'll miss it!" he howled, completely ignorant of his father's growing anger.
"Dudley, if we stay, you'll never see me again! It's all because of that stupid freak! He lied to Petunia, and now she's going to call Social Services and the police on me and I'll spend the rest of my life in prison!"
"I DON'T CARE!"
For the first time ever, Vernon Dursley slapped his son. Dudley was shocked into silence, and then began sobbing loudly.
"Dudley shut up and pack your things! Then go get in the damn car! Anything that isn't packed will be sold to make money for the er… holiday!"
Whimpering, Dudley did as his father said for the first- and last- time.
10 miles away, Petunia Dursley (now Evans) received a phone call from the police.
"Mrs Dursley?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"This is the police. Your husband Vernon was caught speeding on the M1 after you called Social Services saying he had abused your nephew without your knowledge. He had boxes and suitcases stored in the car, and your son Dudley was sat crying in the back. If you would like to come down to the station and we can find out what was going on?"
Petunia looked at Harry's nurse on duty, a young brunette named Francesca. Francesca smiled at her. "Go." She smiled. "I'll watch him for you."
"Thank you." She mouthed.
"Yes, of course sir. I'll be down in a moment." Petunia replied. After hanging up, thanking the nurse and saying goodbye to Harry, she stormed out of the hospital, determined to find out what was going on at last.