Greyson sat on the edge of the bed while him and Harry played cards. "I've been wonderin'," he started out. "What were you and that snake saying to each other anyway?"
Harry looked up at him. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You were there."
"Honestly, it sounded like a whole bunch of hissing," Greyson told him. "Kinda like this." He then proceeded to do his best imitation of snake hissing for his brother.
"I wasn't hissing," Harry said. "I asked him if he got stupid people like Dudley and Piers harrassing him alot and if he'd even been to Brazil. He hadn't because he was born in the zoo, but he said he was going to visit there when he left."
"Well, it sounded like it," Greyson told him and then sighed. "Think we'll be let out anytime soon?"
Harry shook his head. "Doubt it. I've never seen Uncle Vernon so angry," he said. "He looked like one of those purple candies Dudley loves, you know the ones."
"Those Parma Violets," Greyson said nodding.
"Yeah, those," Harry said as he tossed down a card in their game. Maybe later they'd play soldier with the little plastic ones they had scraped up spare change to buy from one of the little convenience stores. That's how they had anything that seemed to be a toy.
"You two can come out from the cupboard now," Uncle Vernon said one morning during. It was already the summer holidays and would soon be Harry's eleventh birthday, three weeks and four days to be exact. Greyson had been saving up whatever change he could to buy Harry some of those penny sweets. That was what they usually bought each other, though one year Harry did buy Greyson a slice of cake. He would have Mrs. Figg purchase it since the Dursleys would never buy them anything when they asked, she did all their present shopping for them. Usually she'd add in a gift for them from herself. It was usually something small like a chocolate bar or a small bag of their favorite candy. They always knew which gift was from her because it smelled extra strong of boiled cabbage.
They didn't say anything about being graciously unpunished for not even doing anything, but they accepted it as a blessing not to be cooped up in their little cupboard room anymore.
They decided to spend the day as far from Dudley and his gang of big dumb friends and enjoy fresh air and sunshine. They ended up at the small park near the house.
"What do you think Stonewall will be like?" Greyson asked as they stared up, watching the clouds go by.
"Well, if Dudley goes to Smeltings, it'd be alot less painful," Harry said. "But first they'd have to accept zoo animals." They both laughed.
"Maybe it's really a circus," Greyson said smiling. "They'll whip him to teach him how to do arithmetic right." They spent their morning thinking of ways Smeltings would teach Dudley how to not be an apeish gorilla before heading back to the Dursleys' for lunch.
Soon enough Dudley had been officially accepted into Smeltings' and Greyson and Harry were to spend the day at Mrs. Figg's while Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to shop for his Smeltings' uniform.
"How are you boys?" she asked as they were dropped off at her door. Aunt Petunia was already heading for the interstate by the time Mrs. Figg had opened it. She never liked staying to chat, she particularly hated the smell of cabbage.
"We're alright," Greyson said as he and Harry moved into the living room of Mrs. Figgs home. "How's your leg by the way?"
"Better, tripped on one of my cats," she said as she closed the door and hobbled over to the couch. "Harry, your birthday is coming up isn't it?"
"It is," Harry said, nodding.
"A week and a day," Greyson said proudly. "And my little brother will be eleven."
"Then I'll be your equal," Harry grinned. Mrs. Figg smiled and shuffled to the kitchen on her crutches.
"Why don't we celebrate your birthday a little early, then?" she suggested as she pulled out a plate covered by a metal dome. The boys eagerly brought themselves over to the dining table. If Greyson had to be honest with himself, he felt like Mrs. Figg was like a great aunt to them. She was far nicer to them than the Dursleys ever were.
She opened the dome to reveal a simple homemade chocolate cake. "Happy birthday," she said as she pulled out two gift bags. Harry smiled and grabbed the bigger one. He pulled out the tissue and saw it filled with penny sweets.
"Figured it'd fatten you up," Greyson grinned. Harry laughed and opened the other to see a chocolate bar.
"Thanks, Mrs. Figg," he told her.
"Not a problem," she smiled as she sliced the cake and gave them each a decent slice before letting them leave to watch TV and munch on Harry's bag of candy.
That evening Dudley paraded around in his new Smelting uniform, which had horrible bright orange knickers. Greyson leaned in close to Harry and whispered, "Good thing the whole uniform isn't bright orange or else they'd think he was a life raft." Harry had to hide his laughter to avoid being hit with the smelting stick.
"Oh, my little Dudley Duddykins is growing up," Aunt Petunia wailed as she held Dudley tight. Both boys thought it was ridiculously over the top, but it didn't stop their amusement. Then again, Aunt Petunia had always been over the top when it came to Dudley.
"What's that awful stench?" Greyson asked the next morning as they went in the kitchen for breakfast.
"Your uniforms for Stonewall," she said as Harry peeked in the sink to look at the tub of gray dishwater with what looked like dirty rags floating in it.
"I didn't realize they had to be so wet," Harry said, frowning.
"Don't be stupid," Aunt Petunia snapped. Even Greyson had to give his brother a look at that. He wasn't sure if Harry had been serious or sarcastic over that one. "I'm dying them grey so they'll be like everyone else's."
"I think we'll look more like we're wearing elephant skin than clothes," Greyson said as they sat down to eat their breakfast. Soon enough Dudley and Uncle Vernon joined them at the dining table. He unfolded his newspaper and sipped his morning tea like he did every morning. The clink of the mail slot had his attention though. "Dudley, go get the mail," he gruffed.
"Make one of them go do it," Dudley said.
"Harry, go get the mail," he said as he read his paper.
"Make Dudley," Harry protested, which of course didn't go in their favor. Harry got the pleasure of dodging the smelting stick as he rushed off to go to get the mail.
When he returned he handed Uncle Vernon a couple of items and then sat next to his brother staring at a thick yellow envelope.
To Misters G. and H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
"What's that?" Greyson asked, looking at the bright emerald green writing.
"I... I don't know," Harry said, just as awestruck as Greyson. He turned it over and they both stared at the red wax seal.
"Dad! Harry's got something," Dudley said. Greyson looked up in time to Uncle Vernon snatch it from his brothers hands.
"Hey! Give it back," Harry said, showing more courage than Greyson could remember. "That's our letter."
He watched as all the color drained from their uncle's face. "P-P-Petunia!"
"What's it say?" Dudley demanded as he smacked his father with the smelting stick. Aunt Petunia rushed over and took the letter from Uncle Vernon. "Let me read!"
"Give us our letter," Greyson said, wanting to know what was on it. Besides, who knew that they lived under the stairs?
"Out! All of you out!" Uncle Vernon yelled.
"I'm not leaving without the letter," Harry said and Greyson nodded in agreeance. Dudley just kept smacking and poking Uncle Vernon demanding to read the letter. In the end, Uncle Vernon managed to carry all three of them out by the scruffs of their necks and tossed them out of the kitchen before slamming the door behind them. The three wrestled around to listen from the keyhole, with Dudley being the victor and Harry's glasses being broken in half on the nose again. Greyson and Harry placed their ears to the gap at the bottom of the door.
They listened as Uncle Vernon talked about stamping that stuff out of them and how there were spies. Who would be spying on the Dursleys? Or rather who would want to? Though from how they were talking, it sounded like Aunt Petunia was familiar with the letter's writer.
Soon enough, Uncle Vernon left for work and Greyson and Harry spent the day trying to figure out who on earth was writing to them. Of course they came up with nothing as they had no family, friends, or anyone really, save for each other and occasionally Mrs. Figg. But Harry had disagreed with Greyson about Mrs. Figg writing the letter since she didn't know they lived under the stairs.
That evening when Uncle Vernon came home from work, he did something the boys never thought they'd see, he squeezed himself into their little closet.
"Where's the letter?" Harry instantly demanded.
"Burned," Uncle Vernon replied. "But, I've given it some thought, and well this cupboard is awfully cramped for you boys. Why don't you move into Dudley's other bedroom?" With that he left the boys to gather their armful of possessions and settled down in Dudley's room.
"I'd much rather the letter," Harry said glumly.
"Well, on the bright side, Dudley is having a massive tantrum now that we're in here," Greyson said. They could hear the yelling from downstairs.
"I need that room!" Dudley yelled. "I don't want them in there! Kick them out!" Soon they heard his fake wailing and the sound of the smelting stick hitting anything it could. Harry just nodded and stretched out on the bed.
The next morning Uncle Vernon was nice to them, in his own way, and made Dudley go get the mail despite all his whining. "There's another one!" he yelled and began reading out the address, this time to their new bedroom. Uncle Vernon hurriedly grabbed it before any of the boys could snatch it and open it. He then shredded the letter in front of them. "There," he said, satisfied.
"There has to be a way we can get one of those letters," Harry said pacing the room.
"What are you going to do?" Greyson asked as he sat on the bed playing cards with himself. "Sneak down before anyone else and greet the postman?" Harry looked at him and smiled and Greyson knew he'd given his brother a terribly good idea.
Early the next morning, Greyson was awoken to the sound of Uncle Vernon yelling. He rushed downstairs to see their uncle in a sleeping bag right by the mail slot. "Go make yourself useful and make me a cup of tea," he snapped at Harry. When the mail came there were now two letters and they fell right onto Uncle Vernon's lap and were instantly shredded. Uncle Vernon called into work that day and worked on nailing the mail slot closed.
As the days passed, the letter delivery became even more absurd. Stuffed in the crack around the door, appearing in the two dozen eggs that they received that morning. And each day Uncle Vernon seemed more desperate to get the letters away from the boys; nailing closed all the gaps and calling to complain to the milk delivery for the eggs, just to name a couple.
Sunday was by far the worst. Uncle Vernon smiled happily as he smeared marmalade on his newspaper. Crazy and happy. "Sunday is the best," he told them cheerfully. "You know why?" He didn't even wait for them to answer. "Because there's no post on Sunday." Just as he spoke, the fireplace erupted with letters flying everywhere. Harry jumped up and down trying to catch one while everytime Greyson grabbed one off the ground, Uncle Vernon was snatching it from his hand. Soon he grabbed the brothers by their waists and tossed them out with Dudley and Aunt Petunia running out, hands covering their head to avoid all the letters.
When Uncle Vernon finally emerged, he only had half a mustache left with bits of it still in his hands. "Go pack a bag and be back down in ten minutes. No questions," he said and they all left to go do as he said.
Soon enough they were all in the car, heading to who knows where. They'd drive and drive and drive in one direction before turning off in another and the process was done until it was well late into the night. Dudley was howling because he had never gone so long without anything, especially food and computer games.
They ended up at a musty hotel. Harry and Greyson shared one of the small twin beds, while Dudley got the other in the room. Not that they really minded, it made them warmer anyway.
During their breakfast of cold tin tomatoes and toast Dudley was pouting. "I hope we go somewhere with a TV," he sniffled. "It's Monday and I want to watch the Great Humberto tonight." Greyson blinked. Monday? That meant tomorrow was Harry's birthday. How could he have forgotten? Well, with all the madness, it made sense, but still. He always made sure to remember Harry's birthday.
While they were eating a man came over. "'Scuse me, but is one of you Misters Potter?" he asked, showing another envelope with emerald green writing. Uncle Vernon stood up.
"I'll take care of them," he said, following the man to the front desk.
"Who on earth wants to write to you that badly?" Dudley asked, looking at them.
After breakfast, they were herded into the car and Uncle Vernon continued to drive. They drove all day again until they finally stopped. Uncle Vernon left them in the car and returned gleefully with a long, narrow package. However he wouldn't answer any of their questions as he drove them to the dock.
"Alright, out, out," he said as he finally turned off the car. The wind was blowing wildly. "Found us a place for the night." Off in the distance Greyson could see what Uncle Vernon was referring to. Looked like a little rickety shack, ready to tumble off into the ocean at any moment as it was perched on the top of a random rocky island.
"There's going to be a big storm tonight," he added as he clapped his hands together and brought them to the dock. "And this gentleman has even loaned us his boat." The boat was an old row boat, owned by an old man missing half his teeth.
"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked out loud to no one in particular. And Greyson was in agreeance with Dudley a hundred and ten percent. Uncle Vernon was definitely certifiably insane now.
"Don't worry Dudley, my boy," Uncle Vernon said. "I didn't forget to grab us some rations." The five of them huddled into the boat as Uncle Vernon rowed them out to sea. Maybe they were going to be murdered like their parents? Definitely seemed like a likely event with how Uncle Vernon was acting.
Fortunately they just enjoyed their dinner of a bag of chips and a banana before going off to bed. Aunt Petunia gave Dudley the couch accompanied with a couple of moldy blankets though Greyson didn't trust that couch to be particularly clean so he was glad to have given it up.
Him and Harry went off to find a corner of the shack that wasn't so drafty. However, neither of them could sleep like Dudley had managed to. So instead, Greyson traced out a birthday cake in the dust on the floor and watched Dudley's glowing watch as it slowly ticked closer to his brother's birthday.
The moment it turned midnight, Greyson smiled at him. "Make a wish," he said. Harry nodded and blew away the dust cake, just as the door to the little shack fell with a bang.