Elisabeth frowned as Petunia's nephew stood and excused himself from the living room by mumbling something about homework. It was only Friday night; surely even the most diligent student could wait an afternoon before completing his assignments. Especially since Petunia and Vernon had never given the impression that Harry was particularly studious.
He was an odd one, that was for certain – quiet and squirrelly and always watching, rarely talking. She could never quite tell if he was judging everyone or afraid of being judged, or even both. And on the rare occasions she saw him, he inevitably had some excuse to leave early. She glanced over at her husband and son, wondering if they'd noticed the oddity, but they were both talking intently with Vernon and Dudley.
Whenever Harry behaved abnormally, Petunia and Vernon always muttered something about his parents before sending him somewhere out of sight. Since Elisabeth had never met the Potters, she had to believe there was truth in that. Nevertheless, the Dursleys had taken him in when he was just a baby, hadn't they? She never wanted to think poorly of her husband's colleagues, but surely the Potters weren't the only ones to blame for the boy's aloofness.
After all, Dudley was peculiar in his own way, with his brash, uncouth jokes, constant whining, and obsession with the telly. Elisabeth and Stuart would never let George behave like that, yet Petunia and Vernon seemed to find it endearing. The Potters certainly couldn't be blamed for Dudley's behaviour.
'Is George enjoying school, Elisabeth?' Petunia asked, and Elisabeth refocused her attention from the stairs.
'Very much so. Smeltings Academy is much more challenging than St Gregory's, isn't it?' She had been worried about sending him there at first. The fees were rather high – nothing unmanageable, but enough to make them consider their finances a little more. And she'd heard that a large portion of the cohort were lazy and entitled. But while the rumours had turned out to be true – and, from what George said, Dudley fell into the entitled category – the academic side was worth it. 'George thrives on being pushed by his teachers. Never has a bad word to say about them. How does Dudley find it?' Trying her best to sound sincere, she added, 'It's a shame they're in different classes.'
Petunia blinked and cleared her throat. 'Dudley would fit in anywhere, of course. And we feel the same way. Dudley likes all his subjects – of course, he has other priorities than just study, but he does decently. He's well-rounded in his interests.'
'The most successful people are,' Elisabeth said politely, although if Dudley had any interests outside of video games and bullying people, she'd be surprised. 'And what about your nephew? Is Harry going to Smeltings next year?'
All conversation screeched to a halt. Vernon, who had been droning on about the best brands of drills, stopped mid-sentence. His neck flushed red and his eyes glared daggers at her as he spat out, 'No, he most certainly is not!'
Elisabeth flinched, her hand darting unbidden to her heart. She'd heard about Vernon's boxing days at excruciating length, but he'd always seemed harmless. A bit arrogant, perhaps, and opinionated enough for a whole country, but never dangerous. For the first time, she understood how he could be so successful in the ring.
'Oh?' Stuart touched her arm gently, clearly sensing her distress. 'I thought you liked the school. You said it was helping Dudley grow into a respectable young man.'
Dudley's chest puffed out at the compliment.
'The problem isn't the school,' Petunia said, her lips pressed together tightly. No doubt she was fuming at the scene her husband had made – if there was one thing Petunia hated, it was scenes. 'It's the boy. He's gotten into too much trouble, you see. We're sending him to St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys instead.'
Vernon nodded. 'They should be able to knock some sense into him.'
Incurably criminal? Elisabeth's stomach fell as her whole world closed in, and she rose on unsteady feet, letting Stuart's hand slide off onto the arm of her chair. 'Please excuse me.'
Forcing herself to keep to a walk, she left the room without looking back, heading straight for the bathroom. Once inside, she splashed water on her face and neck, fighting the urge to vomit.
It was one thing for Harry and Dudley to be unusual; that was easily excused. It was even forgivable for Vernon to have a temper, as much as it had frightened her. But for Harry to be a criminal? An incurable criminal? And for Petunia to just announce it as if it were of trifling significance?
Maybe his parents predisposed him to that, but he couldn't have learnt it all from them. Something about Vernon and Petunia's parenting had to have brought it out in him. And Dudley – what about him? Did he have criminal tendencies too? If the bullying was anything to go by, he definitely seemed to. How long would it be until both cousins were committing felonies?
And she had been exposing her son to them every few months for these little family dinners. She'd encouraged him to be friendly to Dudley at school because he might be a good connection in the future.
More like a career-ending one.
Now more than ever, she was grateful that George had been graded into the top class and Dudley the bottom. Their friendship had only ever been shallow, and she doubted either of them would even notice if they never saw one another again. And if she had anything to do with it, they wouldn't.
George would have to remain cordial, and Stuart would still need to socialise with Vernon outside of work on occasion to maintain good relations. But these dinners had to stop. Perhaps Stuart could suddenly develop an interest in golfing, keeping their get-togethers far away from either of their houses.
Elisabeth met her own gaze in the mirror. A damp sheen glistened over her face, but her blue eyes were steely and determined. This would be the last time her family ever set foot on Privet Drive.
