Dinner at Number Four
by Rainsong
A/N: I did a sort of victory dance/song of joy when I saw that I had gotten 13 reviews in just one day on only one chapter! Muchas gracias to Peter Winfield and David Bore, Lady Foxfire, Kate melissa Black, Laurelgand, livic88, Jadegreen, DangerousManda, Taracollowen, Becky, Michelle, SiriusBPadfoot, Halacanno, and Kit Cloudkicker!
~~~~
Harry crept silently down the stairs with the intent of listening to more of what Aunt Marge was saying. Suddenly, the step that Harry usually skipped let out a loud creak. Aunt Marge jerked her head up from where she was standing. She gave him a look of utter disgust, as if he was a particularly ugly insect lingering on the wall.
"The runt's still here, is he? If I were you, I'd get him out of the house and employed somewhere, but I guess with a record like that he'd be unable to find work. Still at St. Brutus's?" Marge asked, turning back to Aunt Petunia. She nodded solemnly, and Marge made a "hmph!" noise that signaled the opinion 'serves him right!' that she often used when talking about Harry.
For the first time, Harry noticed Uncle Vernon. He was doing the best to stay composed and not let on to Aunt Marge that she was quite unwelcome at the time, but he was sweating profusely, and the newspaper he was wringing was beginning to shred.
"Where's my Duddy-kins?" Aunt Marge boomed after moving into the kitchen. Harry saw Dudley walk into the kitchen from the living room, looking particularly angry. Harry couldn't tell whether or not that was because he had just found out about Sirius, or that he had been given no prior warning about Aunt Marge's visit.
"MY NEFFY-POO!" Aunt Marge cried loudly, and Harry thought he could faintly hear the smacking of flesh as the two largest people he had ever met embraced. Deciding not to intrude, Harry started to walk back upstairs. But suddenly he was halted by a very desperate whisper from the foot of the staircase.
"Boy! Come down here!"
He turned to see Uncle Vernon standing there, looking pale. Harry moved cautiously back downstairs, and listened as Uncle Vernon hissed low enough that he couldn't be heard by those left in the kitchen.
"What do you propose we do about this little mess? I can't tell Marge to leave, she could become more deadly than that godfather of yours. And I can't very well 'uninvite' him, can I? That's probably bad manners in their world too.." Uncle Vernon said, looking desperately around. Harry got the impression that he wasn't speaking to anyone in particular.
"Maybe you could just tell Marge that Sirius is an..er...business associate?" Harry suggested.
"Oh, really? And what would you say to him, eh? 'Just play along'? There is supposed to be nothing but utter normalcy when he visits, and if Marge gets started on what she thinks of your family..." Uncle Vernon shuddered. "Her opinions are perfectly valid, but somehow I don't think that riffraff would agree."
He moved back, straightening his collar.
"She's to know nothing about this until Friday. Then I will simply tell her the truth. Your godfather is coming to visit. She will put up with it, and I'll do my best to keep her in line. But no talk of you-know-what! I don't want Marge being exposed to all of that hocus-pocus malarkey." Uncle Vernon said. Without another word, he turned away and began to walk into the kitchen.
Harry sighed and climbed back up the stairs. Flopping back down on his bed, he picked up his transfiguration book, and began to read again. As boring as it may have been, Harry found it much easier to concentrate on compared to the deteriorating dinner situation.
The next day was miserable. Harry woke up around nine o'clock and reluctantly started downstairs. On his way into the kitchen, he was tripped by Dudley's Smeltings stick, much to the amusement of everyone else in the room. And he could have sworn that Aunt Marge coughed on his pancakes ("I just hope its not consumption, Vernon.") on purpose.
During the day, Harry stayed in his room for the majority of the time, only coming down when Aunt Petunia called for him to 'fetch something for Marge'. His presence was otherwise only called upon for lunch and dinner.
At dinner, as Harry tried his hardest to remain far from Aunt Marge's attention, the usual barrage of insults began.
"Enjoying St. Brutus's, boy?" Aunt Marge asked as she cut through a rough piece of steak.
"No." Harry said shortly, hoping that that was the answer expected of him.
"Hmph! I wouldn't expect you to. At least in a few years, you'll be of legal age. Then he'll be out of your hands when he begins to get in REAL trouble, eh Vernon?" Aunt Marge said, throwing another disgusted look at Harry.
Harry just turned his head back to his book. No matter how accustomed to Aunt Marge's insults one became, they were still annoying enough that it was best to keep your mind on something else.
"So how's work been going for you, Vernon?" Aunt Marge asked, turning her attention from Harry to Grunnings.
"Quite good, actually. Oh, I must tell you this joke I heard! Its about a Swedish electrician.."
After that, Harry had more or less tuned out completely. But suddenly, someone kicked him from under the table. Looking up, he saw Uncle Vernon staring at him and gesturing upstairs.
He listened closely, and began to hear a steady tapping on glass. Realizing what it was, Harry bolted from his seat and ran upstairs, as Aunt Petunia shouted after him, "Fix that furnace!" and Aunt Marge could be heard saying something about 'no manners'.
When Harry reached his room, he saw an owl looming outside his window, carrying an envelope. Harry unlatched the window quickly and watched as the large tawny owl soared in, dropping the letter into Harry's hand.
Ripping open the envelope, Harry began to read what was written.
~
Dear Harry,
I guess I don't have to tell you how un-Dursleyish that is, but I'll be there. I'll wear Muggle clothes too, just in case. I can see full robes being a little troubling to that lot. I'll Apparate there at 6 sharp. Hope everything's alright otherwise.
-Sirius
~
So Sirius was coming. Harry felt the sinking worry reappear inside of him, as he listened to Aunt Marge's drunken giggles from downstairs. Well, at least Sirius was going to be in Muggle clothes. He was probably right; wizard wear would definitely bring up some questions, if not from the Dursleys, from Aunt Marge.
Harry pulled out a 'Diary of a Seeker' by Martin Gremmins. Before he knew it, he had drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~
A/N: Chapter 2, there you go! Please review! 3 should be up shortly!
by Rainsong
A/N: I did a sort of victory dance/song of joy when I saw that I had gotten 13 reviews in just one day on only one chapter! Muchas gracias to Peter Winfield and David Bore, Lady Foxfire, Kate melissa Black, Laurelgand, livic88, Jadegreen, DangerousManda, Taracollowen, Becky, Michelle, SiriusBPadfoot, Halacanno, and Kit Cloudkicker!
~~~~
Harry crept silently down the stairs with the intent of listening to more of what Aunt Marge was saying. Suddenly, the step that Harry usually skipped let out a loud creak. Aunt Marge jerked her head up from where she was standing. She gave him a look of utter disgust, as if he was a particularly ugly insect lingering on the wall.
"The runt's still here, is he? If I were you, I'd get him out of the house and employed somewhere, but I guess with a record like that he'd be unable to find work. Still at St. Brutus's?" Marge asked, turning back to Aunt Petunia. She nodded solemnly, and Marge made a "hmph!" noise that signaled the opinion 'serves him right!' that she often used when talking about Harry.
For the first time, Harry noticed Uncle Vernon. He was doing the best to stay composed and not let on to Aunt Marge that she was quite unwelcome at the time, but he was sweating profusely, and the newspaper he was wringing was beginning to shred.
"Where's my Duddy-kins?" Aunt Marge boomed after moving into the kitchen. Harry saw Dudley walk into the kitchen from the living room, looking particularly angry. Harry couldn't tell whether or not that was because he had just found out about Sirius, or that he had been given no prior warning about Aunt Marge's visit.
"MY NEFFY-POO!" Aunt Marge cried loudly, and Harry thought he could faintly hear the smacking of flesh as the two largest people he had ever met embraced. Deciding not to intrude, Harry started to walk back upstairs. But suddenly he was halted by a very desperate whisper from the foot of the staircase.
"Boy! Come down here!"
He turned to see Uncle Vernon standing there, looking pale. Harry moved cautiously back downstairs, and listened as Uncle Vernon hissed low enough that he couldn't be heard by those left in the kitchen.
"What do you propose we do about this little mess? I can't tell Marge to leave, she could become more deadly than that godfather of yours. And I can't very well 'uninvite' him, can I? That's probably bad manners in their world too.." Uncle Vernon said, looking desperately around. Harry got the impression that he wasn't speaking to anyone in particular.
"Maybe you could just tell Marge that Sirius is an..er...business associate?" Harry suggested.
"Oh, really? And what would you say to him, eh? 'Just play along'? There is supposed to be nothing but utter normalcy when he visits, and if Marge gets started on what she thinks of your family..." Uncle Vernon shuddered. "Her opinions are perfectly valid, but somehow I don't think that riffraff would agree."
He moved back, straightening his collar.
"She's to know nothing about this until Friday. Then I will simply tell her the truth. Your godfather is coming to visit. She will put up with it, and I'll do my best to keep her in line. But no talk of you-know-what! I don't want Marge being exposed to all of that hocus-pocus malarkey." Uncle Vernon said. Without another word, he turned away and began to walk into the kitchen.
Harry sighed and climbed back up the stairs. Flopping back down on his bed, he picked up his transfiguration book, and began to read again. As boring as it may have been, Harry found it much easier to concentrate on compared to the deteriorating dinner situation.
The next day was miserable. Harry woke up around nine o'clock and reluctantly started downstairs. On his way into the kitchen, he was tripped by Dudley's Smeltings stick, much to the amusement of everyone else in the room. And he could have sworn that Aunt Marge coughed on his pancakes ("I just hope its not consumption, Vernon.") on purpose.
During the day, Harry stayed in his room for the majority of the time, only coming down when Aunt Petunia called for him to 'fetch something for Marge'. His presence was otherwise only called upon for lunch and dinner.
At dinner, as Harry tried his hardest to remain far from Aunt Marge's attention, the usual barrage of insults began.
"Enjoying St. Brutus's, boy?" Aunt Marge asked as she cut through a rough piece of steak.
"No." Harry said shortly, hoping that that was the answer expected of him.
"Hmph! I wouldn't expect you to. At least in a few years, you'll be of legal age. Then he'll be out of your hands when he begins to get in REAL trouble, eh Vernon?" Aunt Marge said, throwing another disgusted look at Harry.
Harry just turned his head back to his book. No matter how accustomed to Aunt Marge's insults one became, they were still annoying enough that it was best to keep your mind on something else.
"So how's work been going for you, Vernon?" Aunt Marge asked, turning her attention from Harry to Grunnings.
"Quite good, actually. Oh, I must tell you this joke I heard! Its about a Swedish electrician.."
After that, Harry had more or less tuned out completely. But suddenly, someone kicked him from under the table. Looking up, he saw Uncle Vernon staring at him and gesturing upstairs.
He listened closely, and began to hear a steady tapping on glass. Realizing what it was, Harry bolted from his seat and ran upstairs, as Aunt Petunia shouted after him, "Fix that furnace!" and Aunt Marge could be heard saying something about 'no manners'.
When Harry reached his room, he saw an owl looming outside his window, carrying an envelope. Harry unlatched the window quickly and watched as the large tawny owl soared in, dropping the letter into Harry's hand.
Ripping open the envelope, Harry began to read what was written.
~
Dear Harry,
I guess I don't have to tell you how un-Dursleyish that is, but I'll be there. I'll wear Muggle clothes too, just in case. I can see full robes being a little troubling to that lot. I'll Apparate there at 6 sharp. Hope everything's alright otherwise.
-Sirius
~
So Sirius was coming. Harry felt the sinking worry reappear inside of him, as he listened to Aunt Marge's drunken giggles from downstairs. Well, at least Sirius was going to be in Muggle clothes. He was probably right; wizard wear would definitely bring up some questions, if not from the Dursleys, from Aunt Marge.
Harry pulled out a 'Diary of a Seeker' by Martin Gremmins. Before he knew it, he had drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~
A/N: Chapter 2, there you go! Please review! 3 should be up shortly!