A/N: Sorry, I was pretty rubbish at getting the sequel up any time soon. Knowing my habit of procrastination I finished before putting it up – it's easier that way. I had a totally different plot bunny that I was going to feed 'vitamins and protein powder', but I found this half done instead. Thought I'd better finish it, more than one person has reminded me it's unfinished recently.
If you haven't read the first story, read it first. If you have read it, I've changed some details (nothing major about the plot) so that I could better use the characters in this story.
Again, These characters belong to JKR, I'm just entertaining myself with them.
Enjoy.
Chapter 1: Reconciliation
Harry lay in bed in the darkened room listening to the sound of Petunia and Vernon talking. He couldn't make out the words, but he could hear the exchange - Vernon's low rumble and Petunia's higher pitched warble. He sighed. Things were a bit better so far. He'd been back at Privet Drive for three whole days and nothing completely horrible had happened to him. In fact, he'd largely been ignored. Neither him, nor Dudley (obviously) had been asked to do any chores. He hadn't been told to mow the grass, paint the fence, do the dishes, anything. It was all a bit disconcerting really. Better, but disconcerting.
Tomorrow was Dudley's birthday. Usually Harry would be a mix of resigned, jealous and terrified. Resigned to the fact that he'd have an awful day waiting on Dudley hand and foot, jealous of the attention Dudley got and terrified that he'd be the recipient of something awful Dudley and his friends would concoct. This year Harry was, well, curious, to see how it would unfold.
Things between him and Dudley were now officially weird. Neither of them knew how to deal with the other. Harry was used to Dudley being a downright nasty bully, and Dudley was used to treating Harry like a piece of gum stuck to his shoe, that is, beneath contempt, but now it was bizarre. Dudley kept trying to at the same time avoid and approach him and Harry didn't know whether to run and hide or open communications. Harry could see that Petunia noticed the difference between them and clearly didn't know what to do either. Vernon stayed out of the way, watching television in the living room.
At a particularly loud rumble from Vernon, Harry's thoughts were dragged back to the present. He'd clearly heard the word 'freak', followed by a shushing sound from Petunia and the word 'Duddikins', and for a moment there was silence, as if the speakers were listening for noise, and then a quieter conversation started up again.
Harry sat up with a start when his bedroom door opened and he reached out to his rickety bedside table for his wand. He wasn't allowed to do magic with it, but this summer it wasn't locked up with his trunk for the holidays, and he'd wanted it nearby.
"Harry?" whispered a voice quietly, "Are you awake?"
"Uh huh," replied Harry, not sure what to make of his late night visitor, or the fact that he was now called Harry by Dudley and Petunia.
"Um. Can I come in?"
"Um. OK," said Harry. Why was Dudley coming to talk at this time of night?! Why was Dudley coming to talk?!
Dudley sidled into Harry's room and headed towards the bed. Harry made the decision to hold out an olive branch. He sat up and leant his back against the wall behind him and indicated to Dudley the foot of the bed. Dudley climbed onto the bed and sat cross legged at the bottom of the bed facing Harry.
"Is it like this often?" Dudley asked eventually.
"Is what like what?" asked Harry.
"You can hear them from here. Nearly every word from my room. They're talking about us and, well, it's not nice things."
Harry pondered this for a moment. He'd hardly noticed them this evening. In the past he'd heard much worse, Vernon had had plenty to say about Harry over the years and Petunia had never silenced him before. Only hearing the word 'freak' once could be nearly classed as complimentary! But Harry realised it was different for Dudley.
"Have you never heard them in the past? Surely you must have heard them when I got my Hogswarts letter? Or the night after I ended up on the school roof?" Harry cringed in memory of that night. From in his cupboard he'd heard Vernon's tirade until nearly 2am. It'd been a particularly unpleasant experience.
"I... I never really listened before," admitted Dudley quietly, "I didn't really pay attention as it was about you." There was a pause. "It's just..." Dudley trailed off.
Harry knew what he meant. Dudley had never cared about Harry and another one of Vernon's rants was just that, another one of Vernon's rants. But now, Dudley was hearing them differently. Vernon was ranting about Dudley too.
"He's never understood magic," said Harry, "Much less than your mum. He's got a bit of a thing about it." Harry knew that sentence sounded lame. 'A bit of a thing' was like saying the Titanic ran into a bit of ice.
"Yeah, but I thought it'd be different," said Dudley sadly.
"It is different," said Harry, "They haven't insulted me, or you, to our faces or given me any chores. That's a minor victory." Harry realised that this might be the longest conversation he'd had with Dudley, ever, that hadn't descended into insults. Weird.
There was a long silence as they listened to Vernon getting louder, the low rumble indicating the volcano might erupt at any moment.
"I'm sorry," said Dudley, barely audible.
"What for?" asked Harry, perplexed at the apparent change in subject.
"Everything," replied Dudley, making a gesture with his hands and shoulders that indicated that to enumerate would take far too long.
"Is that why you kept trying to talk to me last week in school?" asked Harry, choosing to go with the flow.
"Yeah, but every time I tried I just didn't know what to say."
"I'm not sure what to say either," said Harry, "Things really got out of hand for a while there."
"Yeah, I know. I... Some of it wasn't really me. Most of it was, especially before Christmas, but there's the odd fuzzy thing that's not really me. Did Snape tell you about the diary and..." Dudley took a breath, "... Voldemort?"
"He did. Enough to know you weren't always, well, you."
"But most of it was and I'm sorry. I'd say I didn't mean it, but well, I did. At the time. And then you rescued me. They told me you came to save me. I think Snape enjoyed reminding me."
"Snape?" said Harry.
"I asked him what I could say to you."
"Snape? You asked Snape?!"
"Weeeell," said Dudley, colouring at the embarrassment of that interaction with the Potions master, and grateful that Harry couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, "It's sort of... um... it's like this. I talked to Healer Jones. He said everything would be OK, and that you'd be OK with what he called 'overtures of friendship', but everything was, well, messed up. You'd saved my life and all I've ever done is treat you like crap."
Harry remained silent. He could hardly disagree with that statement, but agreeing with it probably wasn't the best thing to do either.
"He said I could talk to you, approach you, have a conversation, but I just couldn't act like nothing'd happened. It didn't seem well, fair."
"Fair?" asked Harry out of sheer shock. Fair was hardly what you'd call attempted poisoning or anything else Dudley had done last year.
"I...," said Dudley, momentarily derailed in his thoughts. There were a few moments of silence again. "It's weird, I don't feel guilty for trying to cast the cruciatus on you, I suppose I should, but I mean you fought back, and I'd say didn't exactly win that, never mind the fact that Dumbledore hauled me into his office for a very painful conversation."
"I can't say as I came out of that smelling of roses either," said Harry, "Dumbledore had a few things to say to me too, including the same run in with his ruler."
Dudley winced. "But you see, I don't feel guilty about that because I was caught. It's like poisoning you. I'm truly sorry now I did it, and I wish it hadn't gone that far, but Dumbledore really laid into me with a paddle and I just think that I paid for that." Dudley took a breath. "But there was stuff I never got caught for...like your broom."
In the dark Harry glared at Dudley. He'd loved that broom, everything it represented, not just the fact that it was a bloody good broom. Dudley sensed the tension rising.
"I couldn't talk to you because of those things - the broom and the rest. It didn't seem right. So... So I told Snape," said Dudley simply.
Harry's jaw dropped. There was a very long pause.
"Are you suicidal? Really? Snape? He'd have gone mental," whispered Harry, nearly in awe.
"I can't say as I got out of his office with my backside intact, no." said Dudley wryly, "But I felt that I at least had the right to talk to you again."
"You told Snape?" repeated Harry, getting stuck on what was for him the crucial part of Dudley's confession.
"He wasn't actually that bad," said Dudley, "I mean, it hurt like hell, but he talked to me after, about trying to talk to you. He said you'd listen if I told you the truth."
"Well I am listening," said Harry, "so he got that right."
"I suppose what I'm saying is, can we start again?" asked Dudley.
Harry heard the pleading tone, and in the silence, the sound Vernon drifted across the landing and under the closed door of Harry's room. At least there'd be two of them and he wouldn't be alone any more. Did he trust Dudley? Not really. Would Ron, Hermione and the twins think he was mental? Assuredly. But for his sanity during the next two and a half months, did it matter? No. He had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.
"Sure, we can start again," said Harry.
Dudley breathed out, not realising the breath he'd been holding.
"I didn't realise it meant that much to you," said Harry, noticing.
"Neither did I," said Dudley, "It's just..." he waved his arm expansively toward the door indicating unsaid things about his parents. Harry could just make out the gesture.
"I get it," said Harry. "You know, it is better though. So far. And Healer Jones is due for regular visits. Vernon might get better. Your mum's nearly normal, well, reasonable anyway," said Harry, amending that sentence. Petunia wasn't exactly what anyone would call normal.
"Yeah, I know," replied Dudley. He shivered. It was getting cold just sitting on top of Harry's bed talking.
"Stick your legs under the cover and lean on the wall," said Harry, throwing him one of his two thin pillows to prop himself up with.
"Thanks," said Dudley.
Harry glanced at the bedside clock as he threw the pillow, it read 12:23am. "Happy birthday, Dudley!"
Dudley smiled, not realising Harry wouldn't see in the dark, "Thanks."
"You'll be able to tell if you're still popular tomorrow," said Harry, "You can count your presents and see if there's one more than last year like usual," he added, unable to keep the acid tone out of his voice entirely.
Dudley blushed. "Do you think we could do something together tomorrow? I mean... if you want to?"
Harry was glad he was sitting down. He'd had lots of shocks in the last half hour, and being asked to share Dudley's birthday wasn't on the list of things he'd guess Dudley would have said when he crept into his room.
"Sure, Dudley, that'd be nice."
They talked for a while longer, mostly about Hogwarts and what Dudley wanted to do tomorrow to celebrate, waiting for Vernon to finally give up and go to bed. It was after 1am when Dudley finally crept out of Harry's room. Harry tried to stay awake for a while sorting what Dudley had said. He'd apologised! Bloody hell - Snape's ruler! But it was late, and Harry was tired. His eyelids grew heavy and Harry drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
Harry woke up the next day and lay in bed for a few moments thinking about last night. He did a mental check to see if it had been real or whether he'd dreamt the conversation with his cousin. It seemed real. He got up and went downstairs. No-one else was up yet. On the dining room table was a whole pile of wrapped presents. Curious, Harry counted them. By his reckoning, if everything was normal (or whatever passed for normal round here), there should be 40 presents. There were 15. Harry had a premonition of the future about an hour from now when Dudley got up. It wasn't going to be pretty.
Harry decided to make breakfast. He hadn't been told to yet, but partly it was a habit from the past and partly he enjoyed cooking in a weird way, so long as no-one was berating him and telling him was too slow or that he was burning dinner. He also thought that the new found tentative truce with Dudley might last a bit longer if he did something nice for him on his birthday. He hadn't bought his cousin anything, they certainly weren't that friendly, but Harry felt that a truce had been reached. Harry didn't want to entertain the thought that he might be feeling sorry for the fact that Dudley was about to get a rude awakening to what life was like at Privet Drive when you're a wizard.
The smell of bacon wafted up the stairs and woke Dudley up. His stomach growled and he sat up with enthusiasm. It was his birthday! And mum must be making breakfast! He leapt out of bed, threw on some clothes that were scattered about the floor of his room and ran downstairs two at a time. Out of breath at the bottom he took a moment to recover before sauntering into the kitchen from where he'd heard noises.
"Happy Birthday, Dudley!" said Harry.
"You said that last night," said Dudley with a quick grin, showing there was no malice in his words, "Are mum and dad up?"
"Not yet. Dare you to wake them."
"But... they're always up on my birthday. Mum always makes sure I've got a fried breakfast and dad always ruffles my hair," said Dudley, more forlorn than whiney.
Harry remained silent for a moment. The fact that Petunia always made sure of Dudley's breakfast translated into Harry was usually told by Petunia to go cook it. It wasn't going to be a good day for Dudley.
"I'm sure they'll be up in a minute," said Harry, trying to sound reassuring, remembering to promote peace, "They were awake for a while last night. Clatter the crockery and cutlery around, perhaps the noise will wake them. They'll have just overslept - don't read anything into it." Harry's mouth said one thing, but his brain told him about the number of presents on the dining room table.
Harry put two plates of English breakfast down on the table and they started in on eggs, bacon, sausages and baked beans. They were just finishing when they heard the sounds of the adults getting up and coming down the stairs.
"Happy birthday, Sweetums!" said Petunia enthusiastically, planting a kiss on Dudley's forehead.
"Happy birthday, Tyke," said Vernon flatly as he walked past Dudley to get a coffee from the pot. Dudley's hair did not get ruffled. Harry saw the slightly deflated look on Dudley's face. A tiny bit of him callously thought, 'Ha, shoe's on the other foot now!' but the rest of him couldn't help but feel for him. Harry knew that feeling so well.
Petunia was clearly fine with Dudley and magic, and to be honest, Harry had found her quite refreshing over the last couple of days. She was in a way her usual self - a bit like she'd just sucked a lemon - but Harry couldn't remember any time when she'd been, in general, as nice as she was currently being.
Vernon had changed. Last summer, Vernon had been confused, standoffish and always out or working late, and you could see he didn't know what to make of it all. This summer he was moody. Dudley had said last night that Vernon had written to him at the end of the year to check he was alright, but Dudley had said that the letter was minimal. It made Harry wary. Vernon was capable of a lot of things, and Harry didn't want to find out what most of them were. He hoped that Healer Jones could help, but he wasn't about to hold his breath.
As a result, today's Vernon was what they'd got. Unimpressed by either of the boys. Not that Harry had ever impressed the man, but the sun usually shone out of Dudley's backside from Vernon's point of view, and that was a problem for at least Dudley, if not both of them. Harry made a promise to himself to try not to piss the man off for the whole of summer.
"Mum, I want to open my presents now!" announced Dudley.
"Of course you can, Popkin," said Petunia, "They're on the dining table."
Dudley ran into the living room as fast as his overlarge frame would allow. He saw the table and stopped dead. Harry was watching his face. He saw it fall at the size of the pile of presents. He saw Dudley open his mouth to rage, and then he saw Dudley shut it again.
"Wow, Mum!" said Dudley, in a forced voice. He went to the table, sat down and started to open the presents.
Ten minutes later Harry was impressed. Dudley had opened every present and there hadn't been a tantrum. He'd got, amongst other things, the latest computer console and a variety of games for it, a new bike, a remote control helicopter and the thing that impressed Harry the most, a fireworks selection from Zonkos. Petunia had been to Diagon Alley.
Petunia had done a running commentary as Dudley had opened his presents. "And here's the helicopter you saw in the catalogue at Christmas that you wanted. It came out in Spring so I knew I just had to get you it."
"I know you wanted the BMX with the extra three gears, so I ordered you one. They only had it in black, I hope that's OK, we can go change it if you don't like it."
"Zonkos only had the Deluxe Range box and they said we could only set them off away from muggle areas, but we can find somewhere soon."
Harry was impressed with the last statement. She hadn't fumbled over any of the words. Then Harry noticed. Vernon wasn't in the room. And all the presents Petunia had bought. In previous years both his aunt and uncle had told Dudley about the source or quality of his presents, as if vying for Dudley's approval. Today it was just Petunia. That would explain the lack of presents then, thought Harry.
Dudley looked at his pile of presents, "Thanks, Mum!" he said. Petunia looked like she was going to cry. Probably because Dudley rarely ever thanked Petunia for anything, there had always been an expectation that his every whim would be catered for. Dudley was having a day of growing up very fast and was doing a reasonably good job of it.
After Petunia returned to the kitchen to see to her's and Vernon's breakfasts, Harry sat down opposite Dudley and studied his cousin over the pile of presents.
"She got you some nice things," said Harry, "Especially the Zonkos."
"Yeah," replied Dudley, "You want to come and play these new games? There's two controllers," he added, indicating the new console.
Harry swallowed his shock. He'd never played a computer game in his life. Like he was allowed near any of Dudley's stuff!
"Um, sure, so long as you can show me how to play."
"Easy peasy, come on!" said Dudley, grabbing two boxes off the table and heading up to his room.
Harry had an enjoyable couple of hours getting thrashed on a variety of games on Dudley's console. He was pants at computer games, but he learned quickly enough. He wasn't half bad at the racing car game after 20 minutes. Then ensued a certain amount of cheating - arm nudging, pillow throwing and 'accidentally' forcing each other off the road.
Petunia came upstairs and stuck her head around the door when they got a bit loud, "Boys, you need to quieten down. Don't disturb Vernon, you know he likes a quiet day when he takes a day off."
Vernon had taken the day off work, but Harry noticed the word 'need' in Petunia's sentence. Or what? Dudley and Piers always made a racket and Vernon never gave a toss. Harry mentally added that to his list.
After a further 15 minutes, they'd forgotten Petunia's warning and they heard Vernon barking downstairs, but they couldn't make out the words. They heard Petunia come upstairs quickly and she came into Dudley's room.
"You boys would like to go out for a bit, wouldn't you? Perhaps go to the cinema, or bowling? Stay out for a bit? There's lots of cafes on the high street. I'll give you some money, there's a new ice-cream place on the corner by the pharmacy. They do the biggest sundaes, even bigger than the ones we got you the other year." All this Petunia said with hardly a breath taken. The money was in her hand already, and her tone suggested none of it was really a question. Harry wasn't sure whether Dudley had picked up on the nuances when he leapt up and grabbed his shoes.
"Cool, mum, can we stay out till whenever?"
"Be home by 7pm," said Petunia, "And don't come home like a herd of baby elephants. What did I just say about your father?"
Harry and Dudley left the house pretty quickly, Dudley with Petunia's money held tightly in his pudgy fist. Harry had to admit, he had a really good day, especially considering it was Dudley's birthday. His cousin shared things and wasn't a complete arse.
They had ice creams that rivalled Fortesque's for size, if not flavour varieties, and Harry won two out of five of their games of ten-pin bowling.
They'd gone into Greater Whinging on the bus, and they got off on the way home at the park. They spent a peaceful half hour idly swinging on the swings before heading home.
Harry felt just a little bit positive about his summer holiday for the first time ever. There were going to be bumps, but it could be worse.
For Harry, the week went by slowly. He was on tenterhooks whenever he was in the same room as Vernon. Petunia clearly knew Vernon was having issues and she impressed Harry with her ability to divert Vernon or send both Harry and Dudley out of the house. Thankfully it was summer and there were places they could just hang out outside. One of Harry's favourites, although not at first, was the lido. He didn't like the park much, it brought back too many memories of Dudley and his gang chasing him. Dudley seemed to realise this and even looked suitably embarrassed when they'd gone there a couple of times, but when Petunia had given them money and sent them to the lido on a blisteringly hot day, it'd been a nice diversion.
Harry couldn't swim and was afraid of the water at first. It wasn't like Petunia had paid for Harry to have swimming lessons when they were younger, just Dudley had had them, and the swimming they'd done as part of primary school had involved Harry kicking his feet up and down and clinging to a float for dear life. Swimming had never been accomplished.
So when they'd got changed (Petunia had given Harry money to buy trunks when they got to the pool) and emerged into the outdoor sunshine reflecting off the water, Harry had nearly had heart palpitations when Dudley had run right into the pool, grasping his shins and creating the biggest splash ever, soaking Harry who was still standing poolside.
Harry had made his way round to the shallow end and had eased himself into the water, which thankfully didn't come up past his waist. Dudley had swum up the pool to where Harry was standing shivering, and not just from the cold water, and was pretending he was a shark, although, thought Harry a little maliciously for a moment, perhaps a whale was closer. It was very disconcerting, especially when Dudley grabbed an ankle and tripped him up. Harry's head hadn't gone under, but he'd panicked, lashed out with his other foot and scrambled back out of the water and away from the edge.
Dudley had emerged from the pool a minute later holding his nose which was sporting a minor nosebleed.
"Bot boz dat dor?" managed Dudley, looking at Harry malevolently.
Harry glared back. "You know a can't f... flipping swim," shouted Harry, changing his words mid sentence as he realised there were young impressionable children around.
"Oh," was all Dudley said. Then Dudley considered it a bit more. "Sorry," he said quietly.
Harry huffed. "No harm done, I suppose."
"We OK? You wanna just sit around the edge, or do you want a float? We could get you some of those super cute water wings if you like?" said Dudley with a cheeky grin.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Let's just sit around for the afternoon. Go in whenever you like, I'll just watch." he said.
Harry got increasingly bored as the afternoon went on with nothing to do, but he was surprised when Dudley noticed and came out of the water to keep him company. On their way out of the lido on the first day they went, Dudley noticed a leaflet advertising free swimming lessons to under 16 year olds and he persuaded Harry to sign up. They went to speak to the receptionist who told them that the lessons were every day of the school holidays from 1pm-2pm. So every day from then on, Harry and Dudley went swimming.
Harry was a quick learner and by the second week of the holidays Harry had got the hang of the basics and started to enjoy their time at the pool.
That whiled away their afternoons, as after the lesson, Dudley persuaded Harry to stay to play on the water slide as it ended in very shallow water. This meant that they avoided Vernon most days during the week as he was at work and it got them out of the house during the weekend too. In the evenings, Petunia made them play quietly, usually in Dudley's room on the computer console, or sent them out to the park. She even went as far as buying them skateboards so they could use the skatepark a bit, but Dudley wasn't very keen. Harry enjoyed himself though as he had good balance from playing quidditch, but Dudley found it a very cumbersome activity.
At the end of the second week of the holidays, Ron rang them on the telephone. Fortunately Dudley answered.
"HELLO! IS THIS THING WORKING? HELLO?"
"Weasley, you muppet, stop yelling!" snapped Dudley, "The whole street doesn't need to hear you!"
"THE WHOLE STREET CAN... I mean, The whole street can hear me?" said Ron, comprehending neither how a telephone worked nor sarcasm.
Dudley rolled his eyes. "I'll put Harry on... HARRY!" yelled Dudley up the stairs, "Phone! It's the Weasel."
Harry came running down the stairs, "Don't call him a weasel!"
"It's either that or moron! Just think, can't even use a simple item like a phone, the idiot!" replied Dudley, with a certain level of humour in his voice.
Harry snatched the receiver off him. "Ron! Hi!"
"HI! Oh, I mean Hi!" said Ron. "Can you hear me if I talk normally?"
"Yes Ron, that's how a phone works," said Harry with tones of infinite patience. "I thought Hermione was going to tell you how phones worked before you rang."
"Yeah, but Dad wanted to give it a go, you know..." said Ron, "Public call boxes are weird."
"Right," said Harry, not going to go there. "So, how's it going?"
"You'll never guess what?!" said Ron, "We won!"
"Won what?" asked Harry.
"The Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw," replied Ron. "Seven hundred galleons! We're going to see Bill in Egypt. We'll be back before the end of the holidays, and I'll try to owl you on your birthday, but in case I don't, Happy Birthday for then," said Ron.
"Wow, Ron, that's amazing! Thanks for the early wishes too."
"How's it going otherwise? Dudley being a right git still?"
"No," replied Harry, "We're getting on OK. Vernon's bit odder than usual though." There was silence on the other end for a moment or two. "No, honestly, you don't have to send anyone to check up on me, I'm fine, really. Enjoy your holiday," said Harry.
"OK then," said Ron, sounding dubious, "I'll tell Hermione to ring you then seeing as you're able to talk on the phone. I thought your aunt and uncle would go mental."
"Vernon would have done if he'd answered the phone with you shouting like that!" said Harry with a chuckle, thinking of Vernon going an interesting shade of red with someone shouting at him. "Bye then, see you at the end of the holidays."
"Yeah, nice talking to you. Laters," replied Ron. Harry hung up the phone, guessing that Ron wouldn't know how to end the call.
And that was how the holidays went for Harry for the next few weeks. Petunia got round to giving out a few chores, and Harry was amazed that Dudley was made to do some. There was much whining from Dudley at this, and he usually got away with doing them half heartedly. Harry couldn't not do them to the highest standard else Vernon came and yelled at him. At looks from Petunia Harry didn't bite back and just took the yelling until Vernon stopped and stomped off, it was easier that way.
Healer Jones came round every week. Usually he spoke to Vernon and Petunia alone. Dudley and Harry eavesdropped on the first meeting. They'd been told to go upstairs, but they'd crept back down and listened at the keyhole and the crack under the door.
The pleasantries, or what passed for them in a room containing Vernon and a wizard, were over by the time the boys had crept back down the stairs, avoiding the creaky floorboard on the third step up.
"...and the boys both seem very happy today," the Healer was saying.
"Oh, yes!" gushed Petunia, "They're getting on very well," Harry and Dudley looked at each other and Dudley made a face at Harry - listening to Petunia being all sweetness and light was vomit inducing.
"Vernon, have you had a chance to read the information I left on my last visit?" asked Jones.
Vernon made a non-committal grunt.
"Of course he has," said Petunia, answering for her husband, "He found it very enlightening. It's nice to know other muggle parents have adjustment issues too."
Unfortunately at that moment, Harry, who was listening through the crack under the door, inhaled dust from the carpet and sneezed.
"Excuse me a moment," said Jones, and the boys heard footsteps coming to the door and the door was flung open. Harry and Dudley froze in a tableau of false innocence and both boys looked a bit abashed to be caught eavesdropping.
"I believe you were told to go upstairs," said the Healer.
"Er, I think I dropped my yo-yo," said Dudley trying and failing to sound innocent.
"Um, yeah, I was helping him look for it," managed Harry, knowing the Healer knew both sentences to be a lie.
Jones pointed up the stairs. The boys fled. At least Harry now knew Vernon was the same with the Healer as with them. He just didn't get magic.
Harry enjoyed his holidays for the most part for the next few weeks, and for the first time ever, held out hope that he might just enjoy his birthday too. As the end of July drew nearer he even had feelings of anticipation. He was right about one thing. His birthday would be different.