~4~
Harry and Mrs. Figg sat talking about Harry's summer and how horrid the Dursleys were while the fire continued to hiss, squeal, and even explode into a shimmering array of something similar to a finale of fireworks.
"Hmm... the boy did seem a little round about the middle!" Mrs. Figg joked to Harry as their conversation on Dudley continued. A sly grin and twinkle took comfort in her face as she gazed at Harry. "I believe somebody has a birthday coming up soon," Harry found himself blushing; he was surprised that she would bring this up when his own flesh and blood barely remembered it.
Mrs. Figg hurried off to another room to leave Harry to be entertained by the fireplace. When she came back, she was carrying so many parcels that the top of her white head barely showed over the bundle.
"Mind, only one is from me. I requested all of your friends to have their owls bring your gifts here. I thought you'd like to open them all at once," Harry greedily put down his glass of milk and began towards the pile. Mrs. Figg laughed to herself and began sipping her glass.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught embers of green. He turned his head; the once fiery red flames had turned an odd, yet painfully familiar, tint of green. Harry heard Mrs. Figg's cup shatter on the floor.
"Well, we'd be best off if we left, Harry, you can always unwrap your gifts later," he turned to face Mrs. Figg and found the treats gone, the spilt milk cleaned, and his trunk, cage, and parcels neatly together next to the door.
Harry and Mrs. Figg sat talking about Harry's summer and how horrid the Dursleys were while the fire continued to hiss, squeal, and even explode into a shimmering array of something similar to a finale of fireworks.
"Hmm... the boy did seem a little round about the middle!" Mrs. Figg joked to Harry as their conversation on Dudley continued. A sly grin and twinkle took comfort in her face as she gazed at Harry. "I believe somebody has a birthday coming up soon," Harry found himself blushing; he was surprised that she would bring this up when his own flesh and blood barely remembered it.
Mrs. Figg hurried off to another room to leave Harry to be entertained by the fireplace. When she came back, she was carrying so many parcels that the top of her white head barely showed over the bundle.
"Mind, only one is from me. I requested all of your friends to have their owls bring your gifts here. I thought you'd like to open them all at once," Harry greedily put down his glass of milk and began towards the pile. Mrs. Figg laughed to herself and began sipping her glass.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught embers of green. He turned his head; the once fiery red flames had turned an odd, yet painfully familiar, tint of green. Harry heard Mrs. Figg's cup shatter on the floor.
"Well, we'd be best off if we left, Harry, you can always unwrap your gifts later," he turned to face Mrs. Figg and found the treats gone, the spilt milk cleaned, and his trunk, cage, and parcels neatly together next to the door.