Special thanks to my beta Tabitha!
This is Jo's world, I'm just playing in it!
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Meet the Dursleys | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Comedy Warnings: None Rating: PG Reviews: 4 Summary: *** The author has been reminded via the e-mail address on file that this story is listed as incomplete and has not been updated since 2006 *** Harry, Ron, and Hermione must contend with a convalescing Uncle Vernon who--upon hearing at King’s Cross Station that he and his family would be playing host to two additional “freaks” for the summer holiday—had a rather serious coronary. To further complicate matters, Dudley has a massive crush on Hermione (much to Ron’s chagrin). Hitcount: Story Total: 10143 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: |
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Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter stepped through platform nine and three-quarters, breathing in the smoggy London air, which settled in the pit of his stomach like a rock. He was followed closely by a tall, gangling, redheaded boy and a bushy headed brunette who were engaged in an impressive row over whether or not the effects of an Everlasting Elixir would in fact be everlasting. “Of course they’re everlasting! It says so right there in the name!” said the boy with the ginger hair. Honestly, how could anyone possibly live long enough to know? Maybe it wears off after a century or two!” the girl countered with a satisfied smirk, ignoring the boy's sudden cough which sounded suspiciously like "Nicolas Flamel!" Harry, who had long since grown accustomed to their bickering, hardly noticed. His mind was otherwise occupied by thoughts of the devastating events of the past week–which included a dangerous (and ultimately failed) quest to retrieve and destroy a piece of the evil wizard Lord Voldemort’s soul, the murder of his beloved headmaster at the hand of his Potions professor, and a heart-wrenching break-up with the love of his life (who just so happened to be the younger sister of his best mate)–and the dreary summer that lay ahead. Harry spotted the large, neckless man almost immediately. As they locked eyes, Harry felt an uncomfortable shiver of foreboding tickle his spine. And so it begins, he thought warily, fighting the urge to run screaming in the opposite direction. “About bloody time... let’s go, boy!” Vernon Dursley snarled contemptuously, gazing anxiously around King’s Cross Station as though afraid of being spotted by some acquaintance. Harry inhaled nervously before replying. “Uncle Vernon, er, these are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger,” he said, indicating his companions with a slight nod of his head. Hermione gave a tentative wave while Ron looked determinedly at his feet. They immediately abandoned their argument and each placed a supportive hand on Harry’s shoulders. “They’re going to be staying with us over the next couple of weeks.” “WHAT?!” Uncle Vernon roared violently, his nostrils flaring in rapid spasms. “They most certainly are NOT! Do you understand me? I WON’T HAVE IT!” “Actually,” Harry said firmly, ignoring the dangerous shade of purple that was colouring Uncle Vernon’s face, “they are and you will.” He knew that his calm defiance would further infuriate his uncle, but he had no intention of backing down. “OVER MY DEAD BODY!” bellowed Uncle Vernon, now resembling a large moustached plum. As if to underscore the seriousness of his point, Uncle Vernon clutched his left arm, let out a strangled howl of anguish, and collapsed in a massive heap on the ground. * * * * Harry sat on the sofa in the Dursleys’ living room, sandwiched between Ron and Hermione. “Bloody hell, Harry!” said Ron, his eyes wide with admiration. “You brought down your uncle and you didn’t even use magic!” Hermione shot Ron a reproachful look at this remark. “Oh, Harry,” she said kindly, “don’t listen to him. It wasn’t your fault! I’m sure if we apologize and explain the situation nicely...” All that Harry, who was nearly catatonic from guilt, could manage to reply was, “Now I’ve done it...” Though he’d never gotten on well with his uncle (indeed, Harry had never gotten on particularly well with any of the Dursleys) he’d never seriously wished any of them ill. And now you’ve killed one! he admonished himself, his head drooping in shame. Harry was suddenly jarred from the depths of remorse by the tell-tale squeak of the front door, which heralded the Dursleys’ return from hospital. He leapt to his feet and tried to make a dash for his bedroom, but Ron and Hermione were too quick for him; grabbing his arms, they pulled Harry into the foyer just as the front door opened. Petunia Dursley, whose horsy face was splotchy and tearstained, could hardly stand and was being half supported, half dragged through the doorway by her son Dudley. Upon seeing Harry and his friends, she let out an audible gasp and narrowed her already beady eyes while Dudley instinctively grabbed his wide bottom and started backing slowly towards the nearest wall. Before Harry could stop her, Hermione hurried towards the cowering Dursleys, her extended hand leading the charge. “Hello, Mrs. Dursley,” she said, ignoring both Harry’s frantic gestures and Aunt Petunia’s horrified expression. “I’m Hermione Granger, one of Harry’s best friends. I’m so sorry to meet you under these circumstances! If there’s anything I can do to hasten your husband’s recovery while we’re visiting your home–which is lovely, by the way–please let me know! This is Ronald Weasley, Harry’s other best friend. He’ll be most happy to help, as well... Ron? RON! You’ll be happy to help as well, won’t you?” Ron merely snorted. Aunt Petunia looked slightly green from trying to process so much information in so short a time. After an awkward moment of opening and closing her mouth like a dying fish, she found her voice. “I’m sorry, but who are you? Why are you in my home? And what do you mean ‘while we’re visiting?’” she asked, her voice growing progressively louder with each question. She cast an accusatory glare at Harry. Harry looked innocently toward the ceiling, which Aunt Petunia took as a sign of conformation. With a furious shriek she began to whack Harry repeatedly over the head with her handbag. Dudley remained uncharacteristically calm for having just learned that he would be sharing his home with two additional teenaged wizards. His initial look of horror and revulsion slowly morphed into the vacant expression of someone who’d just been Confunded. Without warning, Dudley rushed towards Hermione and–after roughly elbowing Ron aside–stuck his beefy hand in her face. “Why hello,” he said in an artificially deep voice. “The name’s Dursley. Dudley Dursley. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Harry, narrowly dodging Aunt Petunia’s swinging purse, gaped at Dudley in disbelief and fought to suppress an involuntary snicker. No way! he thought, trying to catch Ron’s eye. Ron, however, did not look amused; he was staring darkly at Dudley, his lip curled into a contemptuous sneer. Hermione was obviously taken aback by Dudley’s warm reception of her hand, but looked pleased nonetheless. She shot Harry a triumphant “I told you so!” look before smiling at Dudley. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well. I look forward to getting to know you over the holiday!” “I’m a champion boxer, you know,” Dudley gloated, his eyebrow cocked in what Harry could only guess was supposed to be a debonair manner. Hermione nodded politely, trying valiantly to look impressed. “Took on the entire Eton senior squad single handedly, I did!” Harry was so strongly reminded of Professor Lockhart by this comment that he had to literally bite his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. However, one look at Ron, whose left eye was twitching angrily, told him that the situation was far more complicated than he’d originally thought: Ron was jealous of Dudley. |
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