=) Who doesn't love old Mrs. Figg?
Every year during the summer holidays, the Durselys liked to take Dudley on a 'well-deserved break'. And every year during the summer holidays, Harry would find himself holed up in Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling, cat-infested house.
Although the place never stood up to where ever it was the Dursely's ended up going to (Guernsey, Majorca, France, Germany) it did stand up to the cupboard under the stairs. At least Mrs. Figg let him sleep in the guestroom.
As the years went by and Harry saw more and more of Mrs. Figg's house, the more and more it became like a vacation of his own.
Sometimes Mrs. Figg would make Harry go down to the market for cat food or veggies. Sometimes she let him play at the park while she fed the pigeons. And sometimes she even let him stay up an hour after bedtime and watch a few cartoons on the telly.
Granted, Mrs. Figg always made him do his holiday work when he stayed with her, he didn't think it was such a bad place to stay. Of course, Harry didn't mind doing his holiday work. She didn't make him do it 'not too efficiently' and she would even help him if he got stuck on Maths, his worst subject.
There were also the chores that Harry didn't have to do. Mrs. Figg didn't make him cook breakfast (unless he wanted to, but she was always right there, making sure he didn't hurt himself) or weed the garden or mow the lawn or polish the silver. Mrs. Figg did all that and all Harry had to do was make sure he didn't make a mess.
But like all good things and all good vacations, they had to end. So after the week or so that the Durselys had left to go on their own vacation, Harry always found himself having to leave his little reprieve and go back to sleeping in his cupboard under the stairs, cooking the breakfast, weeding the garden, mowing the lawn, polishing the silver, and all the other things the Durselys made him do.