Part 7

Harry woke up the next morning when Aunt Petunia banged on his door. "Harry! Harry get up!" she yelled.

Harry sat up, and rubbed his eyes. "Wah?" he said.

"You better hurry up if you want any breakfast, boy," Aunt Petunia said. "Your uncle is in a foul mood. We have to go out to meet some of his clients and your uncle wants to take Dudley and me along with him to make a good impression. Hurry up, because I'm putting the dishes away and if you're not down before then…." Aunt Petunia trailed off as she walked away from Harry's door.

Harry was tempted to lay back down, but his stomach wouldn't let him. It rumbled loudly, letting Harry know that missing breakfast wasn't an option. Grumbling, he crawled out of bed and pulled his socks out from where they had been hiding underneath. Pushing his glasses higher on his nose, he opened his room door and walked down the stairs. "Morning," he said, coming into the kitchen.

Dudley just squinted his beady eyes at Harry while Uncle Vernon grunted from behind his newspaper.

"Here," Petunia said, putting a plate of eggs down in front of Harry impatiently.

"Thanks Aunt Petunia," Harry said, digging in with gusto.

Vernon looked out from behind his newspaper. "Did you just put that down in front of him, Petunia?" he asked.

Petunia looked at her husband. "Y-yes Vernon," she said, her horsy face almost fearful.
"WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" Vernon yelled.

"I-I don't know," Petunia said, clutching her apron, unsure what she had done wrong.

"If the boy wants food, he can get up and get it for himself. Dudley is your son, serve him breakfast, not Harry," Vernon said.

Petunia nodded, not meeting Vernon's eyes as she took Harry's plate away.

Harry almost rolled his eyes, but didn't, knowing that that would only anger his uncle further. Getting up, Harry took his plate back from off the counter and sat down at the furthest end of the table from his uncle.

"Hurry up and eat Dudley, we have to go soon," Vernon told his son.

Dudley glared at his father and moved the food around on his plate. "I want some more salt," he whined.
Petunia went and stood beside her huge son. "Duddums, we've put a lot of salt on there already. I don't really think that you need any more."

"I want more!" Dudley said, pounding his fist on the table as if he were five instead of the sixteen years old that he was.

"Dudley, darling, we need to go with your father soon, and the nurse did say that your blood pressure is incredibly high," Petunia said, trying to avoid a confrontation with her son.

Dudley shoved his plate away from him, knocking over Harry's orange juice.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon snarled at Harry as his juice ran over the edge of the table.

"It wasn't me!" Harry said quickly to his uncle.

"Clean it up," Uncle Vernon said, and put his paper neatly on his chair. "All right Petunia, Dudley, ready to go?" he asked, standing up.

For the first time, Harry noticed what his uncle was wearing.

It was an ugly orange suit with brown dots. The collar and cuffs were brown as well.

Harry thought his uncle looked ridiculous, but from the way Vernon was preening, he obviously thought he looked good. Harry choked on his orange juice, but managed to make it sound like he was coughing.

Uncle Vernon just glared at Harry. "Stop sputtering like an idiot, boy. Dudley, are you ready to go?"

"My show's not finished yet," Dudley whined.

Vernon rolled his beady eyes and hit the T.V. control with one porky fist, turning the screen off. "Now it is," he said.

"Daaaad," Dudley whined, but Vernon wasn't standing for it. With a heave, he pulled his son to his feet.

"Get your coat, boy," he ordered.

Dudley started to protest, but was silenced by his mother putting a finger to her lips.

"You ready Petunia?" Vernon asked, turning to his wife.

Petunia nodded, putting her coat on. "Ready Vernon. Dudley?" she called up the stairs.

Harry could hear Dudley's heavy footsteps as he sullenly walked down the stairs.

"Oh Dudley darling, you look perfect! Absolutely the perfect little gentleman, doesn't he Vernon?" Aunt Petunia asked, turning to her husband.

Uncle Vernon sighed proudly. "You look fine son," he said, "Just fine."

Harry, looking through the kitchen door to the foyer didn't think Dudley looked any different than usual. Sure he was a little chubbier, and his white shirt tucked into his pants looked completely dorky, but other than that, he was the same little porker he had always been.

Catching his uncle's eye, Harry quickly went back to his breakfast.

Vernon however was not finished with Harry. Walking over, his fancy black shoes making no sound on the carpeted floor, he wagged a pudgy finger at his nephew. "While were gone, you behave boy," he ordered. His eyes narrowed menacingly. "No…funny business," he warned, his eyes darting around nervously as if afraid someone would hear. "Got that?"

Harry nodded, still keeping his eyes lowered on his food.

"Did you hear me boy?" Uncle Vernon asked, yanking Harry's head up.

Harry pulled away. "I heard you," he growled.
"Good. Now, no messing around with our stuff and if I come back and find one thing out of place…" Uncle Vernon trailed off, leaving the rest to Harry's imagination. "Now, the neighbors don't know that you're back yet, so stay in the house and do not make a sound. We'll be back this afternoon."

Harry nodded. "Don't worry Uncle Vernon, I won't make a sound," he said.
Uncle Vernon grunted as if he wasn't sure whether he should trust the boy.

"Vernon, we have to go. You don't want to be late, do you?" Petunia called from the front door.

Vernon glared one last time at Harry before grabbing his jacket and following his wife and son out the door.