HP Morgendorffer Dinner With The Dursleys
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, and Wizarding World. Daria is the creation of Glen Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. I own neither franchise. Nor do I expect or deserve any financial reward for this work; I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.
Harry Potter Morgendorffer*Harry Potter Morgendorffer*Harry Potter Morgendorffer
Roger was still awestruck by not only meeting Albus Dumbledore, learning that Helen was The Boy Who Lived's guardian and meeting the head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, but he did manage to apparate HJ, Helen, and himself back to the Alley. After thanking Roger for his help, Helen and HJ went searching for a photo lab. They not only knew that there was one listed in the guidebooks, but they'd seen it on previous visits.
One of the ironies about Diagon Alley and its environs was that despite appearances, some parts did move with the times. While most visitors thought the Alley's calendar stopped moving shortly after Victoria had been crowned Queen of Great Britain and Ireland; that wasn't really the case. Diagon Alley were a few shops catering to those wizards and witches needing access to those devices and processes that had been develop during the 150 plus years that had passed since then, including photo labs with quick turn-around services—at least if you knew where to look.
As it so happened Helen Morgendorffer was one of those who knew just where to look. Once inside, she popped the back of the camera open, handed the film cannister to one of the clerks at the lab, and said that she wanted prints within three hours, and triple prints of the last few frames. She had to prepay a hefty premium for rush processing and courier delivery but told herself that it would be worth it.
They left the photo lab and walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron, Harry pausing to open the door for an exquisitely-coiffed and dressed blonde witch who reeked of wealth and high blood-status. She passed through without giving them so much as a glance. They were in luck by the Cauldron; a harried-looking witch minding two children had opened the barrier and Helen and HJ simply followed after them. They were back in their hotel room by early afternoon.
"It's time to start thinking about dinner," Helen told HJ. She reached into her suitcase and pulled out a nice dress she'd packed for such an occasion.
"Do I have to wear that jacket and tie again?" said HJ.
"You do," said Helen. "I think I ought to look nice for our cousins, and so should you. Also, since it takes me longer than it does you or Jake to get ready to go somewhere, you might want to use some of the extra time to do some homework. We are leaving tomorrow evening."
HJ sighed, opened his suitcase, and stated looking over his assignments. Thinking about school here felt weird. I went to London and did homework, he grumbled to himself. However, he and Daria both shared a streak of realism and HJ knew that his homework assignments weren't going to go away if he ignored them. He decided to do the math stuff first. Some of the problems had fractions that didn't match; fortunately, Daria had taught him some work-arounds.
His math homework completed, HJ had started playing catch-up on The Scarecrow of Romney March, the young adult novel the English teacher had assigned for his class, when the telephone rang. Helen picked it up, and after a short discussion with the receptionist, told HJ that their pictures were ready and waiting downstairs. They didn't go downstairs immediately; Helen waited until she'd finished styling her hair and putting on her make-up, then together they went downstairs and picked up their prints and negatives.
Upon her return to their room with the photos, Helen and HJ quickly went through their prints and deciding which ones they wanted to show the Dursleys and which ones they didn't. Helen kept some of the photos the ones showing some of London's non-magical sights, the Memorial at Godric's Hollow, as well as one showing her posed with a large cauldron and another showing HJ holding a broom as if he was trying to play it like a guitar. That was enough; they didn't think the Dursleys wanted to see any more. Those weren't the only pictures she could show: she'd brought some photos of Jake and the girls, as well as extra snapshots Rita and Amy had sent her.
It was soon time to set off for the restaurant where they'd meet Petunia and Vernon. Properly coiffed and dressed, although Helen did tell HJ to wear one of his baseball caps, they went downstairs to ask a bell-boy to hail a taxicab.
They arrived at the restaurant just under a half an hour later. The restaurant reminded Helen of some of the restaurants where she'd dined with her parents and her sisters back when she was a girl living in Virginia. One thing had changed with the times: the restaurant the Dursleys had chosen had a large, prominent sign displaying its dress code and informing would-be patrons that the dress code's standards would be enforced. Back in the day such signs wouldn't have been displayed; everybody just knew. The maître d did try to have HJ remove his cap, retreating when Helen fixed him with a steely glare and informed him that she would allow HJ to keep wearing it until she and he were seated.
She and HJ glanced around the restaurant to see if she could spot the Dursleys. She did spot one possibility, a large man seated at a table with a obese-looking blonde boy who looked to be about HJ's age. She thought those might be the Dursleys, but she wasn't sure. She didn't see Petunia, though, so she and HJ stayed put.
Petunia emerged from the ladies' room and glanced around the restaurant to see if she could spot her great aunt.
"Helen," said Petunia.
"Petunia," said Helen.
Aunt Petunia looked at HJ and gave him a disapproving look. The boy looked so much like the arrogant Berk her sister had married.
"Aunt Petunia," said HJ.
"Shall we be seated?" said Helen.
Petunia paused for a moment, then said "Let's." Together with HJ, they walked over to the table where the heavyset man and the blond boy were seated.
Vernon rose from the table. Helen hadn't thought much of him but grudgingly gave him credit for knowing some manners.
"You must be Mrs. Morgendorffer," said Vernon. "How do you do?"
"Call me Helen," said Helen, giving him a smile that HJ thought was a little forced.
"And you must be my sister-in-law's boy," said Vernon, sitting back down.
"Yes, sir," said HJ, his brain cells processing information and trying to form an opinion of his uncle besides large guy who never writes back. "Officially I'm Harry Morgendorffer, but most people call me HJ."
Vernon made a grunting noise, like a grown-up who wasn't that impressed.
"And this must be Dudley," said Helen. "How do you do? I'm your great-great aunt Helen."
Dudley first went wide-eyed and then went tongue-tied.
"Well, say something, boy," said Vernon.
"How do you do, ma'am," said Dudley.
Harry wasn't impressed with his first sight of his cousin Dudley. Butterball, he thought.
Helen and HJ took their seats, Helen informing HJ that he could take off his cap. Dudley looked at HJ's scar in curiosity.
The waiter came to their table and took their orders and their wine selections. The boys weren't having any: Harry would be getting bubbling mineral water and Dudley would be getting a soda pop.
The waiter left and conversation resumed.
"Well, what did you do today?" asked Vernon.
"We took it easy," said Helen. "We were both very busy yesterday. I straightened out Harry's accounts yesterday evening, but we were up until the early hours. We slept until mid-morning, then made a quick trip to the Memorial in Godric's Hollow."
"Have you ever seen it?" Helen asked Petunia.
"No," said Petunia. "Godric's Hollow is off in Devon, and I've never been."
"So why were you here, Helen?" said Vernon. He felt ill-at-ease talking to his dotty American relative on a first-name basis.
"A business conference," said Helen. "My employers wanted me to host a seminar on employee relations. Some of us come from very different backgrounds."
Petunia looked at her with a sniff and Helen thought she heard Vernon mutter something about bloody wogs.
"So who do you work for, Helen?" asked Petunia.
"I work for Gringotts Southwest," said Helen.
Petunia jerked and then said "Eeep!".
The adult part of the table went silent. Petunia finally broke it by saying "You work for those creatures?"
Helen looked her steely in the eye and said "Yes, I work for those guys."
"But they're…," Petunia started.
"Yes they are," said Helen. "They're demanding, tetchy, sometimes hide-bound and their attitudes make Ebenezer Scrooge look like a softy. But yeah, I work for them."
"But why?" said Petunia.
"Because I'm a lawyer and they pay me good money. I may not have any whatever to speak of, but I can not only move around in their circles, but I can go litigate like any other attorney. I'm bar-certified and I'm thinking about becoming a trial lawyer."
"Trial lawyer?" asked Dudley, looking confused. Helen wondered if he'd been following the conversation.
"Something like a barrister," said Helen. "We don't have barristers in the US."
"But don't you find it-uncomfortable?" said Petunia.
"Sometimes," said Helen. "On the other hand, they respect me for my abilities, not because I look like an attractive bit of fluff to decorate their offices."
"What do they consider a bit of fluff?" Vernon asked disparagingly
Helen smiled at Vernon. "Someone much shorter, with pointed teeth and sharp talons. They like my attitude, but I'm not their type."
Silence descended again on the table.
"So, Harry, what are you doing?" said Vernon.
"Going to school, Uncle Vernon," said HJ. "Normally, I'd be home with Mom and Dad and my cousins in Ruskin, but Mom said this was an exception."
"Ruskin?" said Vernon.
"The town where we live," said HJ. "It's near Austin."
"Where do you all live?"
"Little Whinging," said Vernon. "It's in Surrey."
Harry knew a little about English geography and knew that Surrey was south and west of London.
"Do you make good marks?" said Vernon. Harry had to pause and think over what he'd said.
"Yes, sir," he said. "I have to study hard to make good grades. I'm not going to be a pro baseball player and I hope to go to college one day."
"Baseball?" said Vernon. HJ frowned at him for a moment. This guy doesn't know about baseball, he thought.
"It's a popular game in the US," said HJ. "They also play it in Canada, the Caribbean, and in Japan. I play outfield."
"I've heard of it. Is it anything like cricket?" asked Vernon.
"Not really," said HJ. "About the only thing I think baseball and cricket have in common is that our balls are about the same size and we have to swing bats at them."
Vernon shot a sneer at his nephew. A stupid Yank game, he thought.
The conversation at table started and died, started and died.
""Do you have any of that stuff?" asked Vernon.
"What stuff?" asked HJ.
"That funny business," said Vernon.
HJ looked blankly at him. Vernon had to pluck a straw from Dudley's soda and wave it like a wand.
"Oh, that funny stuff," said HJ.
"Isn't this a trick question?" said HJ. "You know I'm not supposed to talk about it whether I do or don't."
Helen's eyes narrowed as she listened to HJ's and his uncle's conversation. Vernon was walking towards the red line. "He's right," she said, stepping into the conversation. "He's not supposed to talk about it. Officially, there's no such thing."
"What funny stuff?" asked Dudley.
"Stuff you don't have to worry about," HJ reassured him.
"Mom, could I be excused?" he said. "I have to go to the bathroom."
"Go ahead," said Helen.
HJ was half-way across the restaurant when Uncle Vernon announced that he also had to use the loo, got up and walked into the bathroom.
Harry was washing his hands when Vernon walked into the restroom. Harry looked around the bathroom in hope that he wouldn't be left alone with this guy. He'd already decided he didn't like him and he didn't want to be left alone with him anywhere.
"I'm warning you," said Vernon. "I don't want you telling my son about your freakiness or giving it to him."
"I'm not," said HJ. "Besides, it's not like the flu or the measles. You've either got it or you don't. I don't think he's got it. As a matter of fact, I'm so sure that he doesn't have it, I'll bet you fifty dollars US that he doesn't."
Vernon looked at the cocky little brat, wondering whether to cuff him. His opportunity disappeared when a slender man opened the door, then slid around Vernon to use the urinal.
"It's the best sort of bet," HJ continued. "It's the sort of bet I don't want to lose, and you don't want to win."
Vernon scowled at the boy. The boy clearly had a gift for timing. He also had something of the sharper about him. He wondered if he got that from Allen Barksdale or if he got it from his real father.
HJ hastily washed and dried his hands, then returned to the table. He arrived in time to overhear Mom ask Dudley if he was going to go to school near Little Whinging or go off to boarding school when he was older
"I'm going to Smeltings," Dudley said proudly, "just like my Dad." Petunia beamed with approval.
"I'm going to that Scottish place," said HJ, taking a seat. "But if they don't want me, I'll try for that place where they forgot to use the light switches."
Petunia's curiosity overcame her disapproval. "What place?" she asked.
"The one in Massachusetts," HJ said with a smirk. "…and the lights are always on in Massachusetts…" he warbled.
Helen shook her head in fond disapproval. "I don't know where you got that bent for bad jokes," she said, "but you didn't get it from me or Jake."
"What lights?" said Dudley.
"An old Bee Gees song," said Helen. "HJ must have heard it on the radio."
"Do you play video games?" said Dudley.
"Yeah," said HJ. He and Dudley soon went into a discussion about Deadly Ninja that didn't make sense to either Helen or Petunia. Dudley doubted that anyone could get to Level 4, but Harry had done it regularly, and had even gotten to level five before his character fell to the swordsmen. They started talking about Treasure Hunters when Vernon returned to the table. "That sorcerer they have is such a doofus," said HJ. "He should have known he was in over his head and should have either given up or run off. Having magic doesn't make you bullet-proof."
Vernon thought to remind the little git not to talk about the hocus-pocus, but he saw Petunia's great-aunt eying him. He decided to play it safe and take an indirect approach "You'd better be talking about video games, and not the you-know-what."
"We're talking about video games," HJ replied. "We're talking about a character from Treasure Hunters that anyone can stomp in the first thirty seconds unless he's a total idiot."
"A good right hook ought to take care of most of them," growled Vernon.
HJ pretended to look thoughtful. "Yeah, if he doesn't see you coming."
"And what is little Daria doing?" asked Petunia, changing the subject.
"She's fine," said Helen.
"And giving me a hard time," said HJ.
"They're both in the same grade-level at school," said Helen. "Both Daria and HJ are very competitive. Both of them are constantly competing to make better grades. I think Daria has the edge since she focuses on her schoolwork, but HJ is also competitive with sports."
"Does she have any of the what'you-call-it?" said Petunia.
"Not so far as I know of," said Helen. "If she does, I'm sure she'll tell me."
HJ wasn't too sure of that. Despite the fact that his cousin had staked her turf as the scholar of the family and thought of HJ as the family magician, HJ thought Daria had more magic than she was willing to admit to.
"And, uh, Quinn?" said Petunia.
"Just a case of terminally cute and a pest," said HJ.
"HJ!" Helen said reprovingly. "Don't talk about Quinn that way!"
"I don't think she does," said HJ.
The waiter arrived with the entrees. The male Dursley tucked in immediately, to Helen's disapproval. She tried to talk to Petunia, but even her attempt to start a conversation about something as innocuous as the weather proved fruitless.
Vernon stepped in after he demolished his main course. "Petunia told me that it was still warm in November the one time she came to your Texas," he said.
"Yes, it's usually like that," said Helen. "It doesn't really start to get cold until December."
"So you've never seen a real winter, have you?" said Vernon.
"I grew up in Virginia," said Helen. "I also spent a couple of years in Iowa after I graduated from college. I think I have an idea as to what winter can be like."
Helen tried to ask Dudley about his school and got a non-committal answer. Petunia claimed that he did study, but that the teachers were biased against him. Helen disbelieved her; Dudley looked to be about as mentally slothful as he was physically lazy.
Desert came and went. Helen learned that Vernon occasionally played golf, which she supposed would give him something to talk about should he ever meet Jake. Otherwise she thought they lived boring, insular lives and she was glad that HJ hadn't grown up with them.
Vernon finished his coffee about the same time that Dudley completed demolishing his second dessert. "Well, this has all been very interesting, but we really ought to be going," said Vernon. "We have a train to catch and we'd best be on the right platform on time." He flagged down the waiter and asked for the check.
"So what are your plans for tomorrow?" said Petunia.
"We have a private excursion set for tomorrow morning, then we take a red-eye flight back to the US," said Helen. "If you want, I'll tell you about it later."
Something secret and having to do with hocus pocus, thought Vernon. Petunia's great aunt made him uneasy. True, she was a bit mental, but she was also very, very clever.
The waiter returned a few minutes later with the bill, the maître d' and a frown. "Mister Dursley, there seems to be a problem with your credit card," said the maître d, "It's been declined."
"Blast it, I pay my bills and my credit is good!" Vernon began.
"You might have been hacked," said Helen. "If some of the shops you deal with use those old carbon forms, some Identity thief could have copied down your numbers and then went to town on your money. It happens."
Petunia's great aunt acted like she was taking it in stride. Probably because she came from a part of the world that gave so little respect to law and order, he thought. They also had cattle drives and shoot-outs on the streets.
"I'll take care of it," said Helen, "My card is still good," Vernon thought about it, then resentfully handed the cheque over to Helen. She handed her card to the waiter and told him to try hers.
The maître d' returned with a smile on his face. Of course the dratted woman's card got approved, Vernon thought sourly.
Helen took the receipt and thanked the waiter. The adults rose and then started shaking hands.
"Well, I'm so glad that I got to see you again and finally meet your family," said Helen with a smile.
"Yes, it was a lovely dinner," said Petunia with a smile of her own.
"Perhaps we can do it again the next time we're all in the same area," said Helen.
Or not, thought both women.
Harry Potter Morgendorffer*Harry Potter Morgendorffer*Harry Potter Morgendorffer
The Scarecrow of Romney March (also called Scarecrow) was a live-action Disney television series about late 18th century highwaymen set along the southern coast of England. In this AU, at least part of the series became a book aimed at young readers.