“Or what, Dud? What are you going to do?” Harry couldn’t help his morbid fascination, wondering how far he could push before Dudley would strike back.
Before Dudley could answer him, however, the vase on the table next to him started shaking violently. It rattled on the table as it moved closer to the edge. Harry stared at it in surprise. He really wasn’t that upset, not about this, anyway. Why was his magic reacting so strongly?
“Oh, no,” Dudley moaned before the vase flew from the table and went careening towards Harry’s head.
Harry was so shocked that he never had time to move. The heavy ceramic vase slammed into the side of his face with enough force to knock him from his feet. The vase and Harry both landed on the floor with a heavy thud, the vase shattering in several large chunks.
Alerted by the noise, Aunt Petunia hurried back into the room and screeched at the destruction. “What have you done?” she spat, stepping over Harry to retrieve the broken pieces of her vase.
“It happened again, Mummy,” Dudley wailed. “He did it! I know he did.”
Aunt Petunia leapt to her feet and hurried over to Dudley. “There, there, now, sweetums. Mummy’s here. Everything will be all right. Come into the kitchen, and I’ll make you a nice snack. I’ll take care of everything.”
As she ushered Dudley from the room, she turned back towards Harry, who was still struggling to rise from the floor. “Stay here. I’ll be right back. I warned you not to upset him,” she hissed, her eyes nearly glowing with a burning intensity.
Harry groaned as he sat up and put a hand to his throbbing cheekbone. What is going on here? He pulled himself to his feet unsteadily and shook his head in an attempt to clear it.
Bad idea.
The entire room swam before his eyes, and he had to grasp the arm of the couch to remain upright. He tentatively moved his jaw from side to side, testing how much damage had been done to his face. He didn’t think anything was broken, but the pain was enough to make him wish for one of Madam Pomfrey’s potions.
This would be no ordinary stay at Privet Drive.
He’d done accidental magic before, but not in a long time. He didn’t remember ever hurting himself with it before, either. Something wasn’t right. He glanced out the window apprehensively, wondering if he’d be receiving a reprimand from the Ministry.
Great. That’s all I need.
Still, he’d never got them when it had happened when he was younger, so maybe he’d get by this time, as well. Nothing to do for it; he’d have to wait and see.
The more pressing matter was what was going on with Dudley. He’d acted almost as if he’d known what was going to happen. Almost as if…
Aunt Petunia strode back into the room at that moment and sat down stiffly, glaring at Harry all the while. Harry wasn’t certain what she expected of him, but followed her lead and sat down at the other end of the couch, waiting. After a few moments spent in silence, Harry couldn’t take it anymore.
“What’s happening here, Aunt Petunia?” he asked quietly. “I don’t think I did that. I think Dudley did. How is that possible?”
“Of course my Dudley didn’t do it. You’re the freak here, not him,” she snapped, before her face crumpled, and she put her head in her hands.
Harry was thunderstruck and at a loss for what to do. In all the years that Harry had spent with the Dursleys, she’d never once offered him a bit of comfort over anything, and he found it strange that he wanted to comfort her now.
Tentatively, he raised his hand and gradually moved it towards her before quickly pulling it back again. Twice more he struggled with the urge to lay his hand on her back in an attempt to calm her. She’d never taken kindly to his touch before, and he was afraid that anything he might do would stop her from talking. He wanted answers more than he wanted to comfort her, so he clenched his fists and fought to remain in his spot.
Aunt Petunia finally raised her head, and, although her lower lip trembled, she began to speak. “After you and your headmaster left here last year, odd things started to happen. These incidents grew more and more frequent until Dudley was finally asked to leave school. They suggested he needed counseling. As if we’d ever be able to talk about any of this. They thought he was acting out and being destructive on purpose. The nerve of some people.”
Harry’s head was swimming with questions, but he was afraid she’d clam up if he interrupted, so he just let her continue to ramble.
“What did your headmaster do?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “He removed the protection, didn’t he? He said we didn’t live up to our end of the bargain by not caring for you. We gave you food and shelter for all these years out of the goodness of our hearts. What more did he expect?
“He wanted us to love you like our own. You’re not our own! You’re just a reminder of the sister I wished I’d never had. We gave you shelter, and that has supposedly kept you alive and safe all this time. That should have counted for something. We could have just chucked you in an orphanage like Vernon wanted to do. Sometimes, I think we all would have been better off if we had.”
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