Penname: Kiara
Email: angeldlsm00@hotmail.com
Title: Little Whinging Primary
AOL Instant Messenger: LavnderRain00, FoxyD227
For those select few who have been kind enough to review:
Daisy8781: I believe that Mrs. Figg is a witch, or at least I wrote her that way. Alan will help me get through this story.
Rita Skeeter: Excellent name, by the way. Thanks for the recommendations! They really helped. I went through my plans so far and added some things in. I won't be able to do Aunt Marge, though, because I checked with canon, and Marge's last visit according to POA was the year before Harry got his Hogwarts letters. There will definitely be more of Miss Hudson interacting with Harry, and Mrs. Figg watching out for Harry.
Lela Potter: Glad you like it. I wanted to read a story like this rather than write it, but when no one has written what I want to read, I end up writing it myself. So, you know, here it is.
Rowenna: I plan on doing this until Harry goes to bed, because tomorrow is Dudley's birthday, and he has to go to Mrs. Figg's. I've thought about going back to where I started the prologue, because I think just leaving it off there would be flat. Don't know what to do when I go back, though. Will figure it out. Have plenty of time. Keep reading, and I'm glad you like it.
Disclaimer: Not JKR. In fact, I'm American. So, you know, I don't own Harry Potter, either. In any way. My only income is from Hersheypark.
Forgive the many mistakes I am bound to make, for once again, I am American.
Chapter Four: The 'R' Word
If Harry wasn't ready to pack up everything he owned in his little cupboard, which, to be truthful, wasn't much, he certainly would have in mid-October. Not only was he told that he wasn't to be going trick-or-treating, and would have to hand out the candy to his neighbors and classmates instead, but Dudley had secured his position as classroom freak as best as he ever could.
The second Friday of October was a day of physical education, and though Harry was fairly fast (a talent developed by running from Dudley's gang), he was never picked first for teams. It wasn't that he was a bad player, or that he didn't try in the games. Harry wanted to win just as much as the rest of his team did. The real problem lay in Dudley, who had seemed to make the other kids think that if they were to pick Harry for their team, they would be pulverized by the end of the day. Reconstruction surgery may be necessary. This wouldn't be so bad, but for the fact that their teacher, Mr. Albom, didn't like Harry very much. In fact, he didn't like Dudley very much, either, but that was beside the point.
"Today, we're going to be starting dodge ball," said Mr. Albom. "You're going to be in four teams for the unit, so the first thing we need to do is to set up team captains."
Harry crossed his fingers, hoping that Mr. Albom would pick him. They had phys ed with one of the other fifth year classes, Mrs. West's, and they didn't like him, either. It never got less humiliating to be one of the last people sitting there.
"Team One will have the captains Polly Dixon and Donald Mead," said Mr. Albom, reading off his chart and making marks with a pen. Polly and Donald walked up to where Mr. Albom was standing before the rest of the class. "Team Two will be captained by Kevin Edwards and Allison Artist. Team Three will be captained by Sara Jones and Jimmy Svenning. Team Four will be captained by Calvin Bruce and Eileen Novak."
The eight captains stood before them, and Harry felt his heart instantly sink. There was no way he was going to get picked. He was going to end up as one of the select group that had to be assigned a team by Mr. Albom.
"Poor Sara," he could hear Staci Bree say. Glancing over at her, Harry almost wanted to laugh. Her black shorts and bright pink t-shirt never ceased to amuse him during class. "She's going to have to like, work, and stuff."
"Ew," said Kristy. "What if this game means we'll . . ." she paused, and Harry wasn't sure if it was for effect of because she really didn't want to say the word. "What if we do that thing with liquid?"
"You mean sweat?" said Mindy. Staci swatted her shoulder.
"Don't say that," said Staci.
"That's gross," said Jennifer. "I can't believe you even said that to us."
"Captains," interrupted Mr. Albom, "you'll be alternating between the two of you picking teams. We'll go from Team One to Team Four, and then Team Four will pick again so that we go down the line. Let's start with you, Polly."
The first four to be picked were Shannon Klein for Team One, David McNeil for Team Two, Chris Reb for Team Three, and Andrew Klimkowski for Team Four. Dudley, Harry was pleased to see, hadn't been picked during the first round. That all changed in the second, though. After Becky Uhler and Jeremy Moyer were picked for Teams Four and Three, respectively, Kevin chose Dudley for Team Two, despite Allison's protests. Heather was instantly chosen for Team One.
In the fourth round of choosing, Sara persuaded Jimmy to pick Staci, and she strutted over to them before asking, "Am I going to have to do that thing with very fast walking in this game?"
"You mean running?" asked Jimmy. Staci, horrified, covered her ears and wailed.
Nikki went to Team One in the fifth round, as Team Two continued to pick members of Dudley's gang. Amanda joined Nikki on the same team at the end of the sixth round. With ten students left without a team, Mr. Albom started assigning them by number, being kind enough to send Piers to Dudley's team, though he purposely separated Kristy from Staci's gang. This decision caused Harry to end up on Team One as well, embarrassed that he hadn't been chosen.
"Today I just want you to record your team and choose a team name," said Mr. Albom. "We'll play a short game before the end of class."
Polly and Donald started listing their team members.
"I hate dodge ball," said Amanda.
"I hate sports," said Nikki.
"But I don't mind running."
"Me, either."
"Maybe we'll get to hit Staci in the head," speculated Amanda. "And Harry can hit Dudley. It'll be like a dream come true for all parties concerned. Well, except for Dudley and Staci, but who honestly cares what they say or think? I know I don't."
"I kind of like Staci," said Harry. "She's strange, but at least she's nice."
"I don't like her," said Nikki. "She's a snob." Amanda nodded in agreement.
"But I like her more than I like Dudley." Visibly shuddering, Amanda gave a nasty glare at Dudley, who had looked over at them when she said his name. "What does he want? Fat-arsed freak."
"I think he heard you say his name," said Harry.
"I don't care if he heard me call dinner. He better get those beady little eyes off of me. Pervert."
Nikki snickered as Polly tried to encourage the team to pick a name. After going through things like the Cyclones, and the Mashers, Nikki finally suggested they become The Cereal Killers, and Polly, thinking it was funny, agreed.
Team One played against Team Three the first day, and Staci announced that she was just going to stand off to the side and look pretty when discovering that people were going to be throwing things at her beautiful face. In fact, she made it a point to threaten anyone who may hit her, because Halloween was coming up, and she wouldn't look beautiful in her costume if she was injured. When Staci's looks were threatened, no one took her lightly upon announcing possible retaliation. For purely shallow reasons, Staci Bree meant business.
*****
After mowing the lawn, Harry returned the yard equipment to the shed, and headed into the Dursley house, his stomach clenching upon seeing that Dudley's gang was over. They were sitting out in front of the house, their bikes lying across the yard, and Harry scowled at them. When he was slaving away in Dudley's back yard, he was being a priss with his fat, bullying friends. Brushing the dirt off his pants, Harry was about to head inside when he heard a familiar female voice.
"Do you even ride those or do you just sit with them all day long?"
"They never ride," replied another voice. "All the extra poundage probably makes it hard to stay on that little seat. Can you imagine? It probably gets lost in that large canyon between his bum cheeks."
"Oh, gross! Why would you even make me think of something like that?"
"I don't know. That was really gross, wasn't it?"
"What are you doing here?" interrupted Dudley. "This is my house. Go away."
"Did you buy it?"
"Did you pay for it with your own money?" added the second female voice.
"No," said Dudley, sounding both stupid and irritated.
"Then it isn't really yours, is it?" said the first voice.
"You know, I see them with their bikes all the time. They never ride them. They're always just sitting with them, or walking them back and forth between each other's houses."
"Do you even know how to ride?"
"I know how to ride a bike!" said Dudley in a voice Harry noticed as Dudley about to go into a temper tantrum. That could never be good with Aunt Petunia in such a close range. Her life would be over if precious baby angel Diddy Duddy-dums was ever unhappy. Rolling his eyes, Harry went inside to wash his hands.
"Took you an awful long time out there," screeched Aunt Petunia the moment he started digging the dirt out from underneath his nails. "Go tell Dudley and his friends that their lunch is ready." She paused, looking at him as if daring to ask when his lunch would be ready. Refusing to go for the bait, Harry dried his hands on his t-shirt and walked out of the kitchen to the door.
Pushing it open and stepping outside, Harry could see Dudley on his feet, bright red, and sneering at Nikki and Amanda. They seemed to think something was hysterical, and Harry caught Dudley threatening them before the girls caught sight of him. He didn't think he was ever going to get used to them being nice to him (as nice as they got), and he felt his face go pink when they waved.
"Hi, Harry," chirped Amanda.
"Hi, Harry," Nikki echoed.
Dudley and his gang spun around, each one with an evil glint in their eyes.
"What do you want?"
"Aunt Petunia said to tell you that lunch is ready."
Normally, Dudley would have gone ravenous and barreled over Harry to get inside, but Nikki and Amanda started snickering. After passing a few hysterically incoherent references to Dudley's weight and the fact his lunch must be a ten-course meal of boiled fat and pork rinds, Dudley tried taking a swing at Nikki. She backed away, snickered, and said, "Harry, do you have better aim than your cousin? I hope so. Someone better."
"Don't talk to him!" wailed Dudley.
"Why?" snapped Amanda.
"Because he's retarded."
Harry frowned, his brows furrowing.
"Very good excuse," said Nikki.
"No, really. He's retarded."
"Like, actually?" said Amanda.
"He doesn't look retarded," said Nikki.
"He doesn't sound retarded, either."
"He is, though," said Dudley. "He's only allowed in regular classes because he acts up if I'm not around. That's why he dresses that way and acts the way he does. He doesn't have any friends because he hurts them all. He's retarded."
"I'm not retarded," said Harry, narrowing his eyes.
"Harry says he's not retarded," said Nikki.
"He doesn't know he's retarded," said Dudley.
"I think you're full of horse dung," said Nikki. "If anyone is retarded, it's you."
That seemed to be the last Dudley would hear of Nikki today. He growled Gordon's name, before turning to pin Harry down with his eyes.
"Run!" screeched Nikki and Amanda, causing Gordon to give chase.
"You should probably get going, too, Potter," sneered Malcolm.
Harry didn't need to be told twice. He took off, looking for a good place to hide, and he jumped into one of Aunt Petunia's flower bushes to watch Dudley's gang come into the backyard. They were looking around, wildly, for him. A loud, unpleasant cracking sound came from Dudley's knuckles as he pounding his fist into his hands, muttering around breaking Harry's face into a million pieces. Piers snickered, expressing his desire for Dudley to break Harry's collarbone. Gordon rejoined them several moments later.
Biting down on his tongue to keep from making any noise when he scratched his arm against a branch, Harry watched them search the shed first. There was, of course, no sign of Harry anywhere. Holding his breath, Harry hoped they weren't smart enough to look in these overgrown bushes. For the first time ever, Harry wanted to hug his Aunt Petunia when she stuck her head out the back door.
"Duddy, your lunch is ready. I sent the boy to tell you."
"He ran away," explained Dudley. "I want to beat him up. He was being mean to me! He always ruins all my fun!"
"He always does," agreed Dennis.
"All right, then, but when you're done with that, come in to eat," said Aunt Petunia, disappearing inside. Harry's jaw dropped.
"What?" he screeched before he could stop himself.
"Get him!" cried Dudley.
Less than five seconds later, Gordon and Malcolm had seized Harry and yanked him out of the bushes. Piers grabbed his arms from behind, and the three held Harry back (though Piers could have done the job alone), while Dudley took to mutilating Harry's face with his hands. Harry tried to look anywhere but Dudley, and he grimaced when he felt Dudley's meaty fist sinking into his stomach.
"Get off my lawn!" cried one of the neighbors a few yards down.
"Rotten kids!" screamed another.
Amanda and Nikki were making their way back to Privet Drive by cutting through the backyards, and they were being screamed at by neighbors the whole way up. From the corner of his eye, Harry could see the patio door to the Bree house slide open, probably to see what all the commotion was about. Staci and Jennifer came outside; both were dressed in pleated skirts and blouses, magenta and aqua respectively.
"You know," Harry could hear Amanda say as Dudley tried to flex in front of Staci's eye as he hit Harry on the shoulder, "Harry's retarded."
"Who's retarded?" said Staci.
"Harry," repeated Amanda.
"Who's Harry?"
"That's Harry," said Amanda.
"Why don't you leave him alone?" called Nikki, giving Dudley one of the rudest finger gestures Harry had learned on the playground. "Pick on someone your own size."
"His name's Jason," said Jennifer.
"But it used to be Clarence," said Staci. Then, she started giggling, tossing her hair. "Oh! That's why he thinks his name is Harry. He's retarded!"
"And he's not the only one," muttered Amanda. Nikki snickered.
"How did you find out he was retarded?" asked Staci, as Harry tried to wriggle out of Pier's grip, but Malcolm only held on tighter. By now, Dudley was trying even harder to look tough, probably because Staci was discussing him as she looked over, her upper lip curled and nose scrunched.
"Dudley told us," said Nikki.
"The fat boy?" asked Jennifer.
"Yep."
"Oh my god! Jason's retarded?" said Staci, looking horror-stricken, as if it had finally sunk in. Dashing over to where Dudley's gang was surrounding Harry, she went to hit Dudley on his beefy shoulder, but grimacing, picked up a stick instead. She poked him in the shoulder, hard, and then whacked him on the head. "Why are you beating up that poor retarded boy? No wonder he's retarded! Don't beat up retarded people! They can't fight back."
"Yeah, only a loser would beat up a retarded boy," said Jennifer.
"Yeah," agreed Staci.
"Yeah," muttered Harry.
It didn't seem to matter, though. The fact that Staci was talking to him was enough for Dudley to not only forget he was beating up Harry, but the fact that Harry was there all together. Slipping out of the grip of Dudley's gang, Harry slunk away to the house, holding his broken glasses to his face. Deciding to skip lunch, Harry grabbed a roll of Sello tape and made his way into his cupboard. Leaning against the wall, he wrapped the tape around the frames, trying to put them back together all the while ignoring the pain in his arms, stomach, shoulders, and nose from where Dudley had been hitting him.
The last thought that crossed his mind before forcing himself to work on his homework was, Great, now Staci and Jennifer think I'm retarded. Obviously, as they weren't stupid, Amanda and Nikki were wise enough to realize that, if Dudley said Harry was retarded, there were good chances that he wasn't. Staci, however, not only thought his name was Jason, formerly known as Clarence Potter, but now he was retarded, too. A large black streak appeared across his notebook paper as Harry ran his pencil roughly across the page, his pencil tip breaking at the end.
*****
By the end of the school day on Monday, everyone had heard from either Dudley or Staci that Harry was retarded. Most of them had a hard time figuring out the story from Staci, because it took some time for them to realize who Jason was. However, despite Harry's many protests, he was now known as the retarded boy.
As if things couldn't get any worse, now Dudley had sealed his fate forever as the school freak. Harry Potter, or Jason depending on who you were talking to, the class retard. What could possibly make Dudley think this would be a good idea to do to Harry? Did he think that Staci would pay more attention to him, or did he hate Harry so much that he wanted to ensure he would never have a single person to call a friend? When Harry was much younger, he had wanted to get along with his cousin. It was times like these that reminded him it was never going to happen. Even worse, Harry still had the rest of this year, and then several in secondary school with these people.
The only thing worse than people staring at Harry because of either his clothes or his glasses was people now staring at him because they were told he was retarded. Even Miss Hudson had been unfortunate enough for such a rumor to reach her ears, and she was trying to dissuade the class without coming right out and saying it. At least it saved Harry some embarrassment, not that he wasn't suffocating in it already.
"Just so you know," Nikki had said while Harry was circling the school yard alone, "we don't think you're retarded."
"I can't believe anyone would take something Dudley said seriously," added Amanda.
"You get okay marks, too. Besides, you'd be in a special class if you were retarded."
"If anyone is retarded, it's Staci."
"But she's highly entertaining, isn't she?" said Nikki. Amanda, glancing over at Staci who was seated across from Sara on a bench with a small bottle of nail polish in her hand, nodded.
"Very entertaining."
"Don't let them get to you," said Nikki. "They're a bunch of morons if they actually believe Dudley. Anyone could clearly see that you are not even close to being retarded."
"If anyone really starts to get under your skin, though, like Kevin or someone, you just let us know, okay? We'll be on him or her so fast they won't even get time to feel sorry for messing with you."
"Okay," said Harry, a little suspicious as to why they would want to defend him when he had never had a friend before. Assuming it largely had to do with Nikki's intense abhorrence of one Dudley Dursley, Harry let it slide. Why should he complain, anyway? It wasn't like he could afford to shun The Run Girls away. They were the only friends he had, if you could call their twisted communications a friendship, anyway.
"Sorry you have to live with Dudley," said Amanda. "I bet he really smells. Is his whole family like that? Large and blond?"
"Um . . . Aunt Petunia is kind of skinny."
"Petunia is a sucky name," said Nikki.
"But Dudley is even worse. Who in their right mind with any kind of sympathy would name a child Dudley Dursley?"
"Is you uncle fat, too?"
"Er - sort of," said Harry. "Yeah."
"It's no wonder you don't get meals for punishment. It's like being slowly tortured and murdered to the rest of that fat-arsed Dursley family," said Nikki.
"They would probably die of self injuries if they weren't allowed to eat. That fat pig was eyeing my lasagna all through lunch today. I wanted to bop him on the head with my juice box."
"You should have," said Nikki, laughing. "Could you imagine his face if it would have exploded? Of course, then he'd be all sticky and he's gross enough to begin with."
"We'll try to tell everyone you aren't retarded, okay?" said Amanda, earnestly. Harry couldn't help but smile as he nodded. It felt so incredibly good to have someone to talk to that he didn't even have time to care if it was mostly fueled by a hatred of Dudley. "People will listen to us. At least they should. If they don't, they'll be pretending they think you're retarded because they don't want Dudley to command his Troops of the Big Bums after them."
"Gordon runs faster than you'd think," added Nikki.
"Right. But everyone knows that Nikki and I have more sense than Dudley and Staci Bree combined. I don't know how they got to be the leaders of their little cliques. I suppose it's because Staci is the most self-centered, and Dudley is the largest with the smallest amount of brains."
"You want to play a game or something with us?" said Nikki. "I've got cards and stuff with me. We could play a card game."
Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. No one had ever played with him during recess before. In his head, his eyes going wide behind his glasses and entire face perking up looked more so comical than stupid, and he wasn't too terribly surprised when Nikki giggled at him.
"I'll take that as a yes," said Nikki.
"I thought we were going to work on the plans," said Amanda, tapping Nikki on the knee with their rolled up papers, tied together with bright orange yarn.
"We'll work on them over the phone tonight. Let's play cards with Harry today."
"Okay," agreed Amanda, stuffing the papers into the small hand bag that Nikki had brought out with her. "Do you want to play with us?"
"Yeah!" cried Harry, sounding more excited than he wanted to, but less than he had really been feeling. Amanda snickered, pulling a pack of cards out, and she motioned for him to make himself comfortable on the grass.
He imagined his smile must have been blinding, as he sat there on the grass with Nikki and Amanda, playing during recess for the first time in his life. Even better, Dudley had never seemed to notice. Just to be able to say he had someone to at least say hello to was now enough to last him a whole month in his cupboard, even if the doors were locked. Nikki poked him in the arm, bringing his attention back to the game, and Amanda laughed as Harry straightened his glasses and went to draw from the deck.
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