The dark secret of Vernon Dursley
Harry Potter peered out into the driveway of Privet Drive. His luminous alarm clock showed he had been16 for seven hours and that his aunt Petunia would soon be rapping on his door and ordering him to make the breakfast. Every year since he was thirteen the Dursleys had ignored his birthdays and before that they had been below rubbish but he got dressed with the happy thought that later that day owls from all his friends would be flying through his window with presents and if he was lucky they might even annoy uncle Vernon.
"Get up! Get up!" screeched aunt Petunia right on time as usual and followed quickly by Harry's whale of a cousin, Dudley, stampeding down the stairs. Harry who had been awake for hours quickly got downstairs, put the bacon on and took his seat opposite his uncle. Uncle Vernon looked very tired this morning and even more angry than usual. Harry guessed it was something to do with the argument he had heard between him and Aunt Petunia late last night. He couldn't make out what it was about but it sounded quite serious. It didn't matter to him what happened to these stupid muggles anyway: not when Sirius had just died and Lord Voldermort was stronger than ever. The Dursleys annoyed him now, more than ever, with the way they just went about their pointless life, not knowing what was going on under their noses, not knowing that it was very likely these were the last days of their lives.
Throughout breakfast Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon barely spoke a word to each other and when they did it was very formal. Uncle Vernon rushed out to work earlier than usual without even so much as a goodbye. Dudley, who was too busy practically inhaling his breakfast, didn't notice and Harry, who simply didn't care, finished his breakfast and went back to his room.
When he entered his room he smiled at the sight before him; Errol, the Weasleys' old owl, lay unconscious on his bed with two packages lying next to him. Pidwidgeon
was being chased around the the room by an owl Harry didn't recognise. He was already struggling under the weight of an enourmas parcel that was tied to his tiny leg so settled himself on Harrys shoulder.
Firstly Harry revived Errol with some water from Hedwig's bowl and took one of the parcels he had brought him. It was from Hermione, the letter attached read;
Dear Harry,
Happy Birthday! I Hope your summer isn't going too badly. Hopefully you can come to the Burrow soon anyway. I hope you like your present.
Hermione
She had sent him an extremely large book on advanced defense against the dark arts.
The other package was from Mrs Weasley who sent him a large chocolate birthday cake and a letter wishing him a happy birthday.
Ron sent him an assortment of dark-detectors to go with his pocket sneakascope and the owl Harry didn't recognise was from Remus who sent some England quidditch robes with Potter written on the back.
Now considerabley happier he left the Dursleys House to find something to waste his day on.