"Petunia! Petunia!"
Petunia Dursley had just stepped out of the front door. She was planning to do some work in her front garden. Her hydrangea bushes just weren't as colorful as she thought they should be this year and the mulch in the flowerbeds was starting to get thin. She simply couldn't let the neighbors' yards outshine her own.
Petunia looked up at the sound of her name to see one of the neighbors hurrying across the street to greet her, waving and smiling. Petunia quickly arranged a smile on her own face while she waited for her neighbor.
Mrs. Number 7, Privet Drive, Petunia recognized. Maggie wasn't it? Yes, that was probably her name. And her husband Michael who was a banker. The front lawn and garden of Number 7 had been looking especially green and lush this summer. They had probably hired professionals to care for it, Petunia thought to herself. After all, they seemed to have a lot of money.
"Hello Maggie," Petunia said airily as her neighbor walked up. "Fine day for a little gardening." Petunia gestured to the trowel and gloves waiting for her.
"Oh, indeed!" Maggie replied. "Your garden is always so tidy and beautiful. I love looking over to see it whenever I go for a walk."
"How nice of you to say," Petunia said, feigning surprise. "I try to keep up on it, but I'm afraid I don't have as much time or energy to dedicate to it as I would like."
"Well, you must have a gift," Maggie said. "I have to admit, I'm fairly hopeless at gardening myself. I can't seem to keep anything alive."
"Oh, but your garden is so lovely this year," Petunia said politely, as she inwardly felt pride at knowing that perfect Mrs. Number 7 was hiring someone else to do her work. "Surely you deserve more credit?"
"Actually, the person who deserves credit is you," Maggie said with a laugh. "You and your wonderful son, Dudley."
Petunia was caught off guard and her face must have shown it.
"I can see you're surprised," Maggie continued, "Dudley is such a quiet, unassuming young man. I must have seen him walking past my house a hundred times, but I never knew he was so talented. He simply refuses to boast of himself."
Petunia was recovering now. "Oh! Well, yes, I confess, Vernon and I always knew Dudley was gifted. However, he never let us know just how widely talented he really is. He really is such a very humble boy."
"Oh, yes, and so gentle, too," Maggie said. "Our dog got some thorns stuck in her foot and Dudley was so good about calming her down while he removed them and applied little bandages to her paws."
Petunia was nearly sobbing now.
"You should have seen them," Maggie said. "They were so tiny and cute. My heart just wanted to burst."
"He's such a caring boy," Petunia said as her voice wavered and cracked. "I've always said…"
"I asked him where he learned all this," Maggie said, "and he told me that he gets a lot of practice here tending the gardens, and at school!"
"Of course, of course," Petunia said. "He's always been so helpful around the house, but I never knew he was helping out his school as well."
"I couldn't imagine a bigger contrast between him and his cousin," Maggie said.
"Oh, well," Petunia started. "Vernon and I have tried, but he's really a hopeless case."
"I can tell," Maggie said darkly. "He's always running around with his little gang of thugs. I see them out on the streets at all hours, the little menaces."
"We've tried to get through to him, but he just doesn't respond," Petunia explained. "That's why we've enrolled him at St. Brutus's Secure Center. It's a first rate institution for severe cases."
"No doubt," Maggie said. "I can see why such a drastic measure is needed. I've seen him beating up local children and putting graffiti on walls. He's nothing more than a big bully."
Petunia nodded vigorously. Vernon and I try every night, but he's family, and we can't just toss him out.
"I admire you for that," Maggie said as Petunia inflated with pride. "If he was mistreating my son the way he's so clearly mistreating Dudley, I would have put him out on the street without a second thought."
"What do you mean, he's mistreating Dudley?" Petunia asked.
"Well, surely, Dudley isn't meant to be that skinny?" Maggie said. "I can only imagine that Harvey, or Harley…"
"Harry," Petunia corrected.
"Right, Harry." Maggie said. "I can only imagine that Harry has been stealing from Dudley and causing him so much stress that he's losing weight. The poor thing is skin and bones."
Petunia was starting to be confused. She had often defended Dudley's size as baby fat, or being big boned. Surely nobody had ever described him as 'skin and bones.'
"I don't want you to think he's been over to me complaining, Petunia," Maggie said earnestly. "This is just something I've observed. Harry seems to get bigger and bigger, while Dudley looks more and more run down. And it mustn't help that Harry is so large he has to have new clothes, while Dudley is always making sacrifices and wearing more humble, honest styles. Sometimes his glasses are even taped together."
Petunia froze. "Glasses?"
Maggie nodded, "Oh, yes, the poor thing. He can't see without them, but they always seem to be broken. I can only imagine that his thug of a cousin has something to do with it."
Petunia stammered for a moment.
Maggie cut her off quickly, "No, no, Petunia, you mustn't think that this reflects badly on you and Vernon in the slightest. In fact, the outstanding character of Dudley in the face of real suffering just goes to show the quality of upbringing that he must be getting from you. If anything, this shows how important you have been to raising such an impressive and deeply excellent young man."
Petunia wasn't sure what to say. She didn't trust herself to speak. Her neighbor had just spent the past few minutes unashamedly praising her nephew, Harry, while wrongly thinking it was her son, Dudley. She was obviously under some sort of delusion that Dudley was guilty of the crimes of some other gang of miscreants, but Petunia couldn't risk trying to dissuade her of that.
Maggie took Petunia's silence as a sign that she should continue and she launched into another batch of praise for the boy she believed to be Dudley Dursley.
Petunia plastered her most polite smile onto her face as Maggie prattled on. She nodded at appropriate times and occasionally said, "he's such a good boy." She tried to hide the turmoil that was beginning to rage inside her.
What could Petunia do? Surely, she couldn't sit here and allow Maggie to heap praise onto Harry. Eventually Maggie would discover her mistake. One of the other neighbors would tell her. And she would know that Petunia had allowed her to carry on like a fool!
On the other hand, she couldn't correct Maggie either. Petunia and Vernon had spent considerable time and energy spreading the rumor that Harry was an incurably criminal boy. She couldn't have Maggie telling the rest of the neighbors that Harry was actually a kind and helpful young man. What if the neighbors found out that Petunia and Vernon had been lying about Harry? What if they discovered Harry's real secret?
Well, the Dursley's would have to move. They'd have to leave Privet Drive in shame and disgrace and move across the country. Petunia couldn't bear the thought of it, but she couldn't say anything to Maggie that might make it worse. She was paralyzed with indecision.
And suddenly, Maggie was walking away. She was smiling and waving as she walked down the drive. Petunia shook herself out of her shock and waved back politely. "Thanks for stopping by!" Petunia called out as she turned back to her gardening tools.
Petunia stared at the trowel that was speared into the garden bed. She couldn't focus. Something was going to happen. Would Maggie find out what she'd done and tell everyone? Would she be so embarrassed that she would keep it to herself? Hopefully Maggie would have the good sense to realize her mistake and never speak of it again, Petunia thought to herself bitterly.
She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw Harry, coming up the walk towards the house.
"You!" she said shrilly. "This garden is a shambles. When I come back outside, I want it in top shape."
Harry frowned at her, hands in his pockets.
Petunia threw the gloves at him, turned on her heel and went back inside, closing the door behind her with a sharp snap. She'd have to talk to Vernon.
Whatever game Harry and Maggie were playing, they'd get to the bottom of it.