"You're not feeling well?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised. I shrugged,
draining the last of my orange juice.
"I'd rather clean my toenails than go out with Dudley," I said haughtily. Harry choked on the last of his grapefruit. "Besides," I said seriously. "I need to baby-sit you, remember?" He narrowed his eyes and smiled sarcastically. "No, seriously, I need to talk to you," I said, piling up the plates next to the sink.
"What about?" he asked. I dumped grapefruit peels in the trash and turned to face him.
"Well, I hope what I think is right, or I'm going to be really embarrassed," I said awkwardly. "Hmmm, how do I say this?"
"Just say it," he said, loading the dishwasher. I felt slightly annoyed at his nonchalance. I was really serious.
"Okay," I said, letting only a note of sarcasm into my voice. "Are you a wizard?" I blurted. Harry looked at me incredulously. I stared for a few moments, then blinked.
"Er, no, of course not," he said unconvincingly. My eyes widened.
"You are! You are, I knew it!" I said excitedly. He shook his head and opened his mouth to say more, but I cut him off.
"It's ok, I-" I started to say.
"Charlie, you can't tell anyone," he said worredly. I shook my head, smiling. "If Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon found out that you found out, they'd-"
"Harry! Get a hold of yourself," I said comically. I tried not to smile at his slight hysteria. "It's all right. I'm a witch," I said, enjoying the words. But not as much as I enjoyed Harry's reaction. His eyes flashed with surprise and his mouth dropped open. I grinned.
"But, how, I mean, where did you go to school?" he asked, still awed.
"Harry, there are other wizarding schools besides Hogwarts," I began, sitting down in a chair. "I went to Salem Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ah, without telling my stepfather," I added sheepishly. "He thought I was going to boarding school in Massachusetts. But, anyway, last year I got a letter from a school called Hogwarts," I paused, glancing at Harry. He was grinning from ear to ear. "They told me that there was a mistake, that I was originally meant to go there, but I was accidentally put on the list for the top school in America, not for Britain. So, then I had a bit of a problem on my hands. How was I supposed to go to school in England when I was stuck in Massachusetts? I went to talk to my stepfather, and presented the idea of going to a school here. He agreed, probably so he wouldn't have to see me ever," I added, letting a tone of bitterness enter my voice. Harry looked at me sympathetically. "Well, I still don't know how I'm going to get to Hogwarts, but I'm a lot closer than I was." I shrugged.
Harry sat thinking for a minute. "Don't worry, we'll think of something," he said, patting my arm. "But for now, what do you want to do? We've got the house to ourselves 'til 5 o'clock," he said, grinning evilly. I smiled back.
"Well, actually, could I see some of your stuff? Like your owl or schoolbooks?" I asked timidly. Harry nodded.
"Of course! And it would be nice to talk to someone about magic. I've been especially restricted, with you around this summer," he added. "C'mon, let's go upstairs."
I followed him upstairs and into his room, and was surprised to find a room as sparse as mine. I had only a bed, a dresser with a mirror, and my trunk full of clothes (and magical items). Harry's was the same, except with an empty cage next to the window, and a lumpy blanket in the corner. Harry motioned for me to sit down. I plopped down on the floor, put my hands in my lap, and looked around. I was amazed at how cruel this family could be to their own blood relative. I mean, teasing from Dudley was to be expected, but Petunia and Vernon had no reason to hate Harry, besides the fact that he was a wizard. And that wasn't so bad, really. But then I corrected myself. To the Dursleys I had come to know, it would be a crime. They hated anything out of the ordinary. And Harry Potter was anything but normal. I watched Harry walk around his room, straightening things. He went over to the blanket, and picked it up. It proved to be a cover for his trunk. He walked over to his bed and kneeled on the floor, probing the wooden boards. I was about to ask what he thought he was doing, but then he grasped one floorboard and pulled it up easily. He then pulled out an assortment of books, parchment, quills, and other miscellaneous items. Harry dumped these things on his bed and walked over to the window. He gave a loud whistle and held his arm out. A few moments later, a pure white snowy owl landed on Harry's arm.
"This is Hedwig," he said, motioning to the owl. She gave me a look, sizing me up, then fluttered over to my shoulder. I grinned gleefully at Harry and stroked the owl's feathers.
"She likes you," said Harry absently, smiling at me. I nodded embarassedly and turned away toward the door. Well, that was weird, I thought uncomfortably. Hedwig flew off my arm and over to her perch.
"Why don't you go get your stuff? We can compare notes," said Harry from behind me. I nodded and left the room. I returned carrying my trunk. I opened it up to display the contents. Harry gave it a wary look.
"That's all?" he asked quietly, looking at me. I nodded and made an attempt to smile.
"I'm doing this all by myself," I reminded him. He shook his head. He sat on his bed, thinking, and I resumed my place on the carpet. After a few moments, Harry spoke.
"You're coming to Ron's with me," he declared, standing up. I scrambled to my feet and looked at him, bewildered.
"And Ron is...?" I inquired. Harry grinned and started to answer when a tiny owl shot into the room and flew right into his head. It dropped onto the discarded blanket and was motionless. I started to laugh, but tactfully turned it into a coughing fit.
"Are you all right?" I asked Harry, trying to be serious. He saw my face and narrowed his eyes.
"It's not funny," he remarked, grinning. He rubbed his head. "Where did it go?"
"Right here," I answered. I bent over and picked up the unconscious owl. There was a note stuck to its leg. "Poor thing. Knocked out cold." I examined it for anything broken, determined that it was fine and placed it gently on one of Harry's pillows.
"It's Pig," he said. He took the note and glanced at me. Seeing my puzzled expression, he explained. "Ron's owl. He promised to send me one when our other friend Hermione set a date, for both of us to go to his house." He started reading the letter. I studied his face for a reaction, to see if it was a good or bad letter. His face fell.
"We can't go to his house this year," he said sadly. "They're all going to Romania to visit his brother Charlie for the rest of the summer." He looked crestfallen. I stood up and put a comforting arm around his shoulder.
"Guess we'll have to bear them together, huh?" I said solemnly. "You got my back, I got yours?" Harry nodded, smiling sadly. I frowned.
"I'm gonna go to my room for a while," I announced to Harry, dragging my trunk into the hall. "I've got to come up with a plan," I said to myself.
"A plan for what?" Harry asked, poking his head out the door. "What plan are we making?" I smiled, pleasantly surprised at the fact that he was in this with me.
"For everything happening in the near future," I said, and flopped onto my bed.
"Well, maybe I could help you," Harry said, appearing at the doorway. I grinned at him.
"Sure, come on in. I could use all the help I can get," I said casually, but I knew it was way too close to the truth.
"Let's see," I said thoughtfully. "First, I need to make a list of everything I need." I paused and walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer, where Petunia or Vernon had thoughtfully (probably at the last minute) placed some stationary and writing utensils. I grabbed a pen and piece of paper, shut the drawer, and sat back down on the bed, propping my back against the wall.
"Definitely some new robes," I said, taking notes. "And the books on that list I got in the Hogwarts letter." I paused again, taking this down. Harry watched me interestedly. I looked up at him.
"You have a place to get all this stuff right?" I asked. He nodded.
"Yeah, it's called Diagon Alley, in London," he said. He frowned, and I could see the wheels turning in his head, forming a plan. "If we could get Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to take all of us to London, and somehow make them split off from us..." He trailed off, frowning. A lightbulb switched on above my head.
"We could tell them that you're gonna show me around London!" I said excitedly. He grinned. "You, as a native Brit would show me, a tourist, the sights of the city," I added suavely. His smile widened.
"You know, I think you're just a bit to good at coming up with things like that," he observed. I shrugged.
"I've been lying to adults for years," I said, a bit boastfully. "Oh, all right, I confess, I do have to practice my lies ahead of time and know exactly what I'll say, but hey! I'm practically a professional," I added. Then I turned serious. "OK, how about this," I began, and we spent an hour perfecting our masterful plan.
"What?" I asked suspiciously. Harry's smile had been getting wider with every step of the scheme.
"Oh, I was just thinking," he began casually. I scowled. He put his hand up in front of him. "OK, OK! It's just, I was thinking, their only choice would be to drop us off, but they would hate it. They would worry that I was telling you horrible family secrets and they'd be thinking of it the whole day." He paused, as if visualizing his aunt and uncle in agony. "But they have to let us go. There is no choice for them. It's wonderful," he ended. He was beaming. I giggled at his expression, and he came out of his trance. He grinned wryly and shrugged. "You've seen it around here. They hate me, try to make it as miserable as possible for me. Very rarely do I get these moments of glory."
I nodded in understanding. I had seen what went on in this household, and it wasn't pretty.
"I'd rather clean my toenails than go out with Dudley," I said haughtily. Harry choked on the last of his grapefruit. "Besides," I said seriously. "I need to baby-sit you, remember?" He narrowed his eyes and smiled sarcastically. "No, seriously, I need to talk to you," I said, piling up the plates next to the sink.
"What about?" he asked. I dumped grapefruit peels in the trash and turned to face him.
"Well, I hope what I think is right, or I'm going to be really embarrassed," I said awkwardly. "Hmmm, how do I say this?"
"Just say it," he said, loading the dishwasher. I felt slightly annoyed at his nonchalance. I was really serious.
"Okay," I said, letting only a note of sarcasm into my voice. "Are you a wizard?" I blurted. Harry looked at me incredulously. I stared for a few moments, then blinked.
"Er, no, of course not," he said unconvincingly. My eyes widened.
"You are! You are, I knew it!" I said excitedly. He shook his head and opened his mouth to say more, but I cut him off.
"It's ok, I-" I started to say.
"Charlie, you can't tell anyone," he said worredly. I shook my head, smiling. "If Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon found out that you found out, they'd-"
"Harry! Get a hold of yourself," I said comically. I tried not to smile at his slight hysteria. "It's all right. I'm a witch," I said, enjoying the words. But not as much as I enjoyed Harry's reaction. His eyes flashed with surprise and his mouth dropped open. I grinned.
"But, how, I mean, where did you go to school?" he asked, still awed.
"Harry, there are other wizarding schools besides Hogwarts," I began, sitting down in a chair. "I went to Salem Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ah, without telling my stepfather," I added sheepishly. "He thought I was going to boarding school in Massachusetts. But, anyway, last year I got a letter from a school called Hogwarts," I paused, glancing at Harry. He was grinning from ear to ear. "They told me that there was a mistake, that I was originally meant to go there, but I was accidentally put on the list for the top school in America, not for Britain. So, then I had a bit of a problem on my hands. How was I supposed to go to school in England when I was stuck in Massachusetts? I went to talk to my stepfather, and presented the idea of going to a school here. He agreed, probably so he wouldn't have to see me ever," I added, letting a tone of bitterness enter my voice. Harry looked at me sympathetically. "Well, I still don't know how I'm going to get to Hogwarts, but I'm a lot closer than I was." I shrugged.
Harry sat thinking for a minute. "Don't worry, we'll think of something," he said, patting my arm. "But for now, what do you want to do? We've got the house to ourselves 'til 5 o'clock," he said, grinning evilly. I smiled back.
"Well, actually, could I see some of your stuff? Like your owl or schoolbooks?" I asked timidly. Harry nodded.
"Of course! And it would be nice to talk to someone about magic. I've been especially restricted, with you around this summer," he added. "C'mon, let's go upstairs."
I followed him upstairs and into his room, and was surprised to find a room as sparse as mine. I had only a bed, a dresser with a mirror, and my trunk full of clothes (and magical items). Harry's was the same, except with an empty cage next to the window, and a lumpy blanket in the corner. Harry motioned for me to sit down. I plopped down on the floor, put my hands in my lap, and looked around. I was amazed at how cruel this family could be to their own blood relative. I mean, teasing from Dudley was to be expected, but Petunia and Vernon had no reason to hate Harry, besides the fact that he was a wizard. And that wasn't so bad, really. But then I corrected myself. To the Dursleys I had come to know, it would be a crime. They hated anything out of the ordinary. And Harry Potter was anything but normal. I watched Harry walk around his room, straightening things. He went over to the blanket, and picked it up. It proved to be a cover for his trunk. He walked over to his bed and kneeled on the floor, probing the wooden boards. I was about to ask what he thought he was doing, but then he grasped one floorboard and pulled it up easily. He then pulled out an assortment of books, parchment, quills, and other miscellaneous items. Harry dumped these things on his bed and walked over to the window. He gave a loud whistle and held his arm out. A few moments later, a pure white snowy owl landed on Harry's arm.
"This is Hedwig," he said, motioning to the owl. She gave me a look, sizing me up, then fluttered over to my shoulder. I grinned gleefully at Harry and stroked the owl's feathers.
"She likes you," said Harry absently, smiling at me. I nodded embarassedly and turned away toward the door. Well, that was weird, I thought uncomfortably. Hedwig flew off my arm and over to her perch.
"Why don't you go get your stuff? We can compare notes," said Harry from behind me. I nodded and left the room. I returned carrying my trunk. I opened it up to display the contents. Harry gave it a wary look.
"That's all?" he asked quietly, looking at me. I nodded and made an attempt to smile.
"I'm doing this all by myself," I reminded him. He shook his head. He sat on his bed, thinking, and I resumed my place on the carpet. After a few moments, Harry spoke.
"You're coming to Ron's with me," he declared, standing up. I scrambled to my feet and looked at him, bewildered.
"And Ron is...?" I inquired. Harry grinned and started to answer when a tiny owl shot into the room and flew right into his head. It dropped onto the discarded blanket and was motionless. I started to laugh, but tactfully turned it into a coughing fit.
"Are you all right?" I asked Harry, trying to be serious. He saw my face and narrowed his eyes.
"It's not funny," he remarked, grinning. He rubbed his head. "Where did it go?"
"Right here," I answered. I bent over and picked up the unconscious owl. There was a note stuck to its leg. "Poor thing. Knocked out cold." I examined it for anything broken, determined that it was fine and placed it gently on one of Harry's pillows.
"It's Pig," he said. He took the note and glanced at me. Seeing my puzzled expression, he explained. "Ron's owl. He promised to send me one when our other friend Hermione set a date, for both of us to go to his house." He started reading the letter. I studied his face for a reaction, to see if it was a good or bad letter. His face fell.
"We can't go to his house this year," he said sadly. "They're all going to Romania to visit his brother Charlie for the rest of the summer." He looked crestfallen. I stood up and put a comforting arm around his shoulder.
"Guess we'll have to bear them together, huh?" I said solemnly. "You got my back, I got yours?" Harry nodded, smiling sadly. I frowned.
"I'm gonna go to my room for a while," I announced to Harry, dragging my trunk into the hall. "I've got to come up with a plan," I said to myself.
"A plan for what?" Harry asked, poking his head out the door. "What plan are we making?" I smiled, pleasantly surprised at the fact that he was in this with me.
"For everything happening in the near future," I said, and flopped onto my bed.
"Well, maybe I could help you," Harry said, appearing at the doorway. I grinned at him.
"Sure, come on in. I could use all the help I can get," I said casually, but I knew it was way too close to the truth.
"Let's see," I said thoughtfully. "First, I need to make a list of everything I need." I paused and walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer, where Petunia or Vernon had thoughtfully (probably at the last minute) placed some stationary and writing utensils. I grabbed a pen and piece of paper, shut the drawer, and sat back down on the bed, propping my back against the wall.
"Definitely some new robes," I said, taking notes. "And the books on that list I got in the Hogwarts letter." I paused again, taking this down. Harry watched me interestedly. I looked up at him.
"You have a place to get all this stuff right?" I asked. He nodded.
"Yeah, it's called Diagon Alley, in London," he said. He frowned, and I could see the wheels turning in his head, forming a plan. "If we could get Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to take all of us to London, and somehow make them split off from us..." He trailed off, frowning. A lightbulb switched on above my head.
"We could tell them that you're gonna show me around London!" I said excitedly. He grinned. "You, as a native Brit would show me, a tourist, the sights of the city," I added suavely. His smile widened.
"You know, I think you're just a bit to good at coming up with things like that," he observed. I shrugged.
"I've been lying to adults for years," I said, a bit boastfully. "Oh, all right, I confess, I do have to practice my lies ahead of time and know exactly what I'll say, but hey! I'm practically a professional," I added. Then I turned serious. "OK, how about this," I began, and we spent an hour perfecting our masterful plan.
"What?" I asked suspiciously. Harry's smile had been getting wider with every step of the scheme.
"Oh, I was just thinking," he began casually. I scowled. He put his hand up in front of him. "OK, OK! It's just, I was thinking, their only choice would be to drop us off, but they would hate it. They would worry that I was telling you horrible family secrets and they'd be thinking of it the whole day." He paused, as if visualizing his aunt and uncle in agony. "But they have to let us go. There is no choice for them. It's wonderful," he ended. He was beaming. I giggled at his expression, and he came out of his trance. He grinned wryly and shrugged. "You've seen it around here. They hate me, try to make it as miserable as possible for me. Very rarely do I get these moments of glory."
I nodded in understanding. I had seen what went on in this household, and it wasn't pretty.