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Vernon Dursley sat in a dazed state in the kitchen of the small cottage while his wife shook his husband and cried hysterically,
"Vernon, what's wrong? Tell me."
But the man was far from speaking. He felt the weight of the locket in his pocket and it seemed to him as the weight of his impending death. Suddenly he rose to his feet as an idea occurred to him. He spoke out,
"Where is the boy?"
Petunia looked stunned. She looked at her husband in shock and then spoke,
"He's outside."
Vernon yelled out,
"Get here right now, boy!"
He waited for a while but there was no response. Petunia rested his hand on his shoulder and spoke,
"He was out in the rain all night. The boy's probably dead."
Vernon's eyes grew as large as saucers as he digested the news. He stampeded out of the cottage. His gaze took in Harry's curled up form on the grass and he screamed,
"NOOOOO!"
He rushed towards Harry and fell on the grass beside him,
"WAKE UP, BOY! Wake up, now."
The man shook Harry's limp form. Petunia stood in the doorway and watched in horror. The only thought that ran through her brain was that her husband had gone mad. He had really gone mad. Vernon slapped Harry across the face and pushed on his chest. He grabbed Harry's wrist and felt his pulse. He felt relieved and called his wife,
"Make him better, Petunia. He needs to be in his senses, today."
Petunia looked at her husband horror-struck. Since when had her husband begun to care for the boy. He had despised him all his life and now all of a sudden, he was caring for him. There was only one explanation of this. Her husband had definitely lost his mind,
"ARE YOU NOT LISTENING TO ME, WOMAN?"
Petunia was forced out of her thoughts and she immediately began to tend to the boy.
Six hours later, Harry was sitting in front of the fireplace with three blankets wrapped around him and a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of him. Harry felt extremely lethargic. He was drowsy. He was weak and above all he was disoriented. This had to be a dream. Maybe he had died and gone to heaven because otherwise his relatives would never treat him with anything but disregard.
Harry pinched himself for the umpteenth time and realized that this was indeed real. His relatives were being nice to him. What could have brought about such a change in them? What could have caused them to change their ways after so many years? Harry was just lost in those thoughts and sipping his soup when Aunt Petunia appeared beside him checked his fever,
"How are you feeling now, boy?"
Harry nodded his head quietly,
"I'm better now, Aunt Petunia."
She looked at him sternly and then spoke,
"Get back to work then, boy."
Harry realized that this was all there was to it. His relatives hadn't wanted to lose their servant boy and that's why they had taken care of him. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have even hoped that his relatives could ever change? He was about to get up when his uncle appeared and spoke,
"He is not going to do anything. Let him rest."
Harry felt overwhelmingly shocked. Was this true? Was his uncle real? Aunt Petunia gaped at her husband and opened and shut her mouth several times. She looked like a fish out of water. After a few attempts of trying uselessly to get the words out, she huffed and stomped out of the room.
Vernon looked at the clock. There was an hour left till the deadline. He was certain that Harry could be easily convinced to wear the locket. The boy was the only way out. He would send him in his place and that would settle the monster's debt. He just had to explain the situation to Petunia. He knew for sure that she would understand.
Harry was staring in the fireplace blankly. Images from last night flashed through his mind. He had lost everything. He had lost it all last night. His books, his most precious belongings had been burned in the fire last night. What was he supposed to do now? Tears streamed down his eyes. He wiped them away. How would he ever get over this? Those books were all that he had ever known. They had been his singular source of joy and comfort. How would he ever survive in this world now?
Harry was just lost in those thoughts when his uncle sat down beside him and rested his heavy hand on his shoulder,
"Your soup is getting cold."
Harry ate his soup quietly. This was bothering him. Harry began to feel the same sinking feeling that he had felt last night. Something was extremely wrong. Trelawney's face swam in front of his vision and her words echoed through his head. Had she been right? His left definitely felt different. But he couldn't understand what had caused it. He needed to understand. But he was afraid to ask his uncle. He was afraid that he would shout at him again.
Vernon kept his gaze on the clock. Thirty minutes left. He reached in his pocket and felt the locket. He turned his gaze to the boy and observed him. He felt no remorse, no regret, no guilt. The boy owed them his life. They had fed him for fifteen years. It was time for the boy to settle his debt. He finally spoke,
"I got something for you during my trip."
Harry turned to face his uncle. He couldn't believe this. His uncle had gotten something for him. His uncle had never gotten anything for him. Harry had never seen his uncle smile and yet he was sitting here with him today and smiling brightly.
Vernon pulled out the locket and handed it to Harry,
"This is for you."
Harry observed the locket closely. It was a made of heavy gold with a serpentine S in glittering green stone inlay on the front. Harry realized that the locket was extremely expensive. He wondered what had possessed his uncle to get him something so precious. Suddenly Harry heard it. Whispering…murmuring. Where was that sound coming from me? Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed that his uncle was looking expectantly at him,
"Wear it, boy."
Harry looked at the locket again. He wondered why his heart was beating out of his chest. Why did he feel so terrified? Harry hesitantly wore the locket. As soon as the locket touched his skin. Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground and he was speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour. The locket was pulling him magnetically onward and then….
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