An Evening with the Dursleys
By Vogue Dimera
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Dursleys's or Hedwig the owl. I don't own
the park either, although things might be different if I did. Read and enjoy!
On a hot day in early July, Harry Potter came home from the park. He had spent a lovely
afternoon there having tea with Dumbledore. Harry smiled fondly at the memory and
stepped into his Uncle's house. The first thing he saw was his Aunt Petunia, who appeared
to be sweeping up the kitchen. It took Harry a few seconds to realize that his aunt was not
using her normal broom.
"Aunt Petunia, NO! That's my Firebolt!"
Harry watched in horror as his Aunt finished her cleaning with his precious broomstick.
Harry grabbed his broomstick from her bird-like hands and ran to put it away in his room.
When he came back downstairs, he realized it was dinnertime. Harry sat down at the table
and waited for his aunt to serve him.
"Oh Duddy, I have a surprise for you! Mummy baked you a delicious cake!"
Aunt Petunia opened the oven door, pulled out the double chocolate cake, and tested it to
see if it was done with a long stick made of holly, eleven inches long, containing a single
phoenix feather.
"Aunt Petunia, NO! That's my magic stick! I need it for my magic school!"
"There'll be no talk of magic in my house!" roared Uncle Vernon. Harry grabbed his magic
wand out of his aunt's bird-like grasp and ran upstairs to put it safely away, next to the
Firebolt. Then Harry headed back downstairs to finish his meal. Upon arriving back into
the kitchen, Harry found that his aunt had filled his plate with some sort of bird covered in
Cream of Mushroom soup. It looked delicious. And it was.
"Gee Aunt Petunia, this is very good bird. I wonder if Hedwig would like to try a bit.
Hedwig! Hedwig! Oh, I guess she's out hunting. Oh well".
And with that, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, sank his teeth into that delicious, tender,
wonderful dinner.
The End