Thanks to Psychonerd 5, Tziporah, Chloe-Land Shark Phantomess
By the way, I don't own POTO or Harry Potter.
Chapter 2
Eleven years had passed since Raoul had been left on the doorstep of the Burglary's. It was a painful eleven years, since he wasn't left with a wonderful family. It sure wasn't a family of an aunt who bakes you cookies, an uncle who sits down and watches your favorite television show, even if it's Barny the Dinosaur, and a cousin who could play video games with you all day long. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Wake up, wake up!" Raoul's Aunt Patricia screamed as she knocked on the door of the cupboard under the stairs, what Raoul knew as his bedroom. Slowly and groggily, he got out of bed, got dressed, made the bed, then opened the door to walk out, but just as he put his foot over the threshold, it was slammed in his face. This was the doing of none other than Danny, Raoul's cousin. Danny hated him, along with the rest of his family.
"Ha!" Danny laughed as he ran away. Raoul opened the door, trying to resist a scowl as he walked into the kitchen. In there was Patricia, Danny, and his Uncle Victor, all sitting at the large table. In front of Danny was a large piece of paper folded in half that read, "Happy Birthday Danny!" Next to him was a gigantic heap of wrapped presents of all shapes and sizes. Balloons hung off of his chair.
Raoul stared at them in disgust as he took a seat, but the moment he did, Victor began to scold him. "Get over there and look after the cinnamon rolls and the pop-tarts!"
"Pop-tarts need looking after? I mean, I can understand cinnamon rolls completely, but pop-tarts? You just put them in the toaster and wait for it to pop up," Raoul pointed out.
"Don't ask questions, boy! Do it!" He abandoned his seat and walked over to the stove, which had a toaster next to it. The pop-tart soon popped up, and he handed it to Danny, but the cinnamon rolls were taking a while. As he attended to them, he listened to the conversation between his uncle, aunt, and cousin.
"One-hundred-thirty-seven? That's one less than last year!" Danny complained loudly as he counted the presents next to him. He began to stomp his feet.
"Calm down, we didn't forget," Patricia told him. "When we go to the petting zoo today, we will buy you another present from the gift shop."
"Those are lame! They don't have cool Playstation games!"
"Oh, but this one is different," Victor said. "They actually do have a video game there, one about animals."
"Still, that's lame. What, do you count sheep during it?"
"No, no, not at all. You shoot the animals and save the dinosaurs from extinction."
"Cool! I'm going to buy that!"
Raoul formed a scowl on his face, for he never got this kind of birthday celebration. He had never had a birthday cake in his life, never mind one-hundred-thirty-seven presents. For presents, he usually got a sock, usually a used one. Notice I didn't use the plural socks. Just one sock. After he finished cooking the cinnamon rolls and brought them over to the table, he sat down. He was allowed one out of the fifty that were there, but Danny had fifteen.
It only made him more annoyed when Danny opened his presents, which took a good hour, at least. Twenty new Playstation games, ten new movies, plenty of gift cards, CDs, everything you could possibly want.
Afterward, Patricia gave the family some news, bad for her, Victor, and Danny, but great for Raoul. "Last night, Mrs. Wig's doctor called. She broke her spinal column, and she can't take care of him while we're at the petting zoo."
Raoul tried to stop his face from lighting up, for he hadn't gone out of the house - except to do yard work - for the longest time imaginable. Would this mean he would go with them? Even if it didn't, it may mean he could stay home and sneak a game of Sonic the Hedgehog on the Playstation. He was also happy that he didn't have to go with Mrs. Wig, for she made him look at pictures of her dead pet monkeys as she sat there and sobbed. She made him eat sauerkraut for lunch, and asparagus and liver if he was there for supper. There wasn't anything he wanted to do less than spend a day at Mrs. Wig's.
"Well, we could always drop him off at Mr. Argentina's house," Victor replied.
"He's in Jamaica."
"Or Mrs. Honey?"
"Went to London for the day."
"Or Mr. Boy?"
"In Timbuktu."
"It seems as though all of our neighbors are on vacation."
"We're going to have to take him with us."
"No!" Danny screamed. "No! The lunatic isn't going to ruin my birthday!"
Not that you don't ruin mine, Raoul thought to himself, holding back a chuckle.
"He won't," Victor told him, but was staring at Raoul. "He'll come with us, but no funny business. No making chandeliers fall down, no making Danny collide into walls. We'll just pretend he isn't there."
It was true that every so often, if Danny caused Raoul great anger, Danny would be pushed against a wall by nothing. And one time, at a neighbors house, the neighbor was saying how Raoul should be the president of Lunatic Incorporative. It angered him, and a chandelier came crashing down.
"He better not!" Danny whined.
"He won't, and if he does, when she's better, we'll make him stay a week at Mrs. Wig's. But before that, we'll make sure he doesn't have meals," Patricia assured her son. That was convincing enough for Raoul. A day with Mrs. Wig was terrible enough. He wondered what he'd get for breakfast. Cold pancakes with rotting strawberries? It was easy for him to picture this, and he told himself he wasn't going to do anything but look at the animals at the petting zoo.
