Love on risky ground

Harry leaned against the doorway frame of the Dursleys’ living room rather uncomfortably. Silently, he folded his arms with a smile winning control over the corners of his mouth while watching his Uncle Vernon struggle to push in his trunk into the cupboard under the stairs. Harry held back his laughter as his uncle’s face gradually changed colour from an overripe tomato to a blackberry in his rising rage. Strands of his grey hair which had been neatly parted on his way home from Kings Cross Station had begun to scatter all over his forehead.

Harry had just completed fifth year and his high spirits were slowly ebbing away in the gloom of the Dursley summer holiday, although his giant friend Hagrid’s death and facing Voldemort again had been far worse and his nightmares had began taking control of his life at night.

"Ruddy, bloody trunk," Vernon hissed through gritted teeth.

"Sir, would you like me to help?" Harry suggested, a tinge of amusement in his voice; seeing sweat slither down his uncle’s purple face.

"No, no you stay right where you are thank you... AND IT IS NOT FUNNY!" He boomed, giving Harry a horrible, searing look. Harry flinched slightly. Vernon’s his voice carried throughout the house, startling Hedwig, making her screech madly in her cage right beside Harry.

"Shut that bird up!" he yelled in frustration, his neck wobbling under the stress he was feeling.

Harry knelt down and shushed his snowy owl down. He snuggled his thin arm between the metal bars and began to stroke her soothingly.

In the meantime, Vernon drew in a breath to calm himself with his weight pressed up against the trunk. He leaned back, but his hands remained, drained from blood, gripping the corners of the trunk. With a puff, Vernon pushed it in with an almighty grunt. He had an accomplished smile on his face as he shut the door in place with a loud snap. He straightened up, placed the key in his pocket so there was no way that Harry could get to his things and slapped his hands before he tidied his clothes as if the neighbours were somehow watching them.

Wiping the sweat from his face, Vernon turned towards Harry, "I hope that had nothing to do with your nonsense. I’ve never had your trunk take so much time getting into the cupboard," he sneered.

Harry unfolded his arms and let then fall limply to his sides, his smile suddenly gone. "Sir, if you looked in the cupboard before you put my things in there you would’ve noticed a whole stack of Dudley’s junk."

Vernon shut and then opened his mouth again, completely lost for words. His face began blotching up again in purple and red spots like a grotesque pattern. Harry bit his lip getting ready for the insult to hurl his way.

"How dare you speak back to me...GO, GO TO YOUR ROOM," his uncle finally spoke.

Harry picked up Hedwig with a small jolt and passed his uncle, stepping the stairs lightly as if there was no gravity within the house, glad to get out of his uncle’s sight.

He heard his uncle again once Harry had stepped onto the landing. "When your Aunt Petunia calls... go to her."

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, melancholy in his voice.

Harry opened Hedwig’s cage to let her out, her wings unfolding with a welcoming stretch as she hopped onto Harry’s bed. She hated being cooped up in a cage so long, especially when it came time for her to board the Hogwarts express. Hedwig hooted softly once Harry had given her food and water. She sipped it and ate graciously while Harry watched, waiting unhappily for his aunt’s nauseating squeal for him to do whatever she wanted.

Harry casually returned his clothes into his drawers after wiping away cobwebs and spiders which had nestled into their corners. And while folding up a tattered jumper which had once belonged to Dudley, he glanced at the end of his bed, wishing he had his trunk with him in his room, like it had been two years ago. But the incident with Dudley’s tongue had meant his stuff had to be locked away in the cupboard again.

He retrieved a pair of stinking red socks filled with holes and picked it up as if it had some sort of menacing substance he did not wish to touch. "Disgusting!" Harry grimaced and threw them into a bin near the window. On second thoughts, as he stood only meters away, he could still smell the filthy socks from where he was standing. He grabbed the waste bin and went into the backyard and tipped it into the bin.

"Harry."

Harry spun around and saw his Aunt Petunia pruning a rose bush in her perfectly clean garden. Her chin was held up as she surveyed Harry with despising eyes. Thick dirtied gloves covered her hands and she held a pair of garden shearers that were wrapped around a branch she was about to cut with surprising relish.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

"Come here." She motioned curtly, pointing her bony finger towards the earth.

Harry droned over, absent-mindedly looking at the grass that he was deliberately treading on.

And his Aunt Petunia noticed his almost rebellious actions in her mind. "Oh, hurry up, boy."

Without looking at Harry, Petunia retrieved a carefully folded note from her pocket and thrust it into Harry’s hands, leaving Harry wondering what it was. "They’re your chores for the summer."

"I always do them like you ask," Harry said in shock. He never needed a piece of paper telling him what to do. He always did what they asked.

"Vernon and I will be going on a holiday."

Harry’s heart almost danced in a sudden joy.

"We will be going to see Marge... we feel the need to go to her rather than for her to come to us," she said with a reproving stare. "After all that happened when she was here the last time."

"Well, she got what she deserved." His aunt slapped him across the side of his head for that rude comment. Harry massaged his temple where the full force had been expelled. "Sorry."

"You should bloody well be sorry," she whispered, hoping the neighbours didn’t hear her nephew’s rebellious words. She sighed heavily and continued. "Duddikins will not be coming with us, he wishes to stay at home so whatever he says you do. And he’ll be watching you. None of your nonsense or we will come straight home and Vernon will give you a good whacking," she whispered madly.

Harry’s heart almost broke loose from his chest cavity and caved into his stomach. He shifted his weight from one foot to the next, feeling less content by the minute. Harry would rather have all the Dursleys home then just Dudley. He had a feeling Dudley was going to make things a living hell for him.

"Aunt Petunia... when will you be back?" Harry almost hoped they wouldn’t be away long.

"July ninth... you can go now," she said, waving her hand towards the house.

Harry sighed, but sat on a bench near the rose bush as his aunt returned to pruning it. Harry opened the note in his hands to see what chores had been listed for him.

*Open the windows to air out the household.

Harry gulped, getting ready for the restrictions under Dudley’s command.

*DO NOT OPEN THE CUPBOARD UNDER THE STAIRS. Aunt Petunia stressed.

*Do not enter Dudley’s room or the master bedroom.

*And most importantly of all, you are not to live the house. Either case, I know that your kind will be watching you nonetheless. So keep out of danger.

"This should be an interesting experience," Harry muttered, crumbling the note into his pocket.

"Hm... what did you say?" his aunt questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Nothing, Aunt Petunia." Harry rolled his eyes, but then he looked around. "Where is Dudley anyway?"

Petunia sighed on the spot, anger coursing through her veins. "You’ve been asking a lot of questions," she hissed. "You’re getting too much freedom within this household which you do not deserve even in the slightest," she said, flicking her eyes onto Harry from head to toe as though inspecting a hideous object in front of her. "Dudley’s gone to his friend’s house. He’ll be returning this evening... Now get out of my sight."

Harry lazily wrenched himself from his comfortable seat in the afternoon sun. As he headed indoors again, he decided to go and sit in the living room. Vernon was seated crossed legged, his grey socks showing from beneath his trouser legs, his face hidden behind an outstretched newspaper within his hands. But he sensed Harry in the room.

"We’ll be leaving tomorrow," he said without bothering to look Harry in the face. "So no funny business."

Harry leaned his head back in annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you people... students are not allowed to use magic outside of school." It took Harry a second to realise what he had said.

Vernon threw the paper to the ground, his face reddening up again. "How dare you... say that word," he said with shock and anger.

Harry darted out of the living room as his uncle struggled to get his massive weight off the soft armchair. "It was an accident, sir... I didn’t mean to say it."

"Oh, you’ll wish you never said it." Tailing behind Harry, he flung his hands out in order to grab Harry’s arm, but Harry was too quick and bolted into his bedroom shutting the door with a loud crack. He could hear his uncle shouting downstairs and Petunia asking what had happened. But they never rushed upstairs to punish him.

Harry relaxed and plumped onto his bed, his face nuzzling the sheets. He only lifted his head up when he couldn’t breathe any more.

He turned over and rested, feeling the cool air circulate over his body. He fingered the groove of his lighting bolt scar, thinking about what had happened during the year. But he pushed his disturbing thoughts aside and thought about the future that lay ahead. Dwelling in the past was only going to make Harry more depressed then ever before. So Harry thought about his OWL results. He frowned, then sighed, hopefully his ambitions about becoming an Auror will come true. But then ... Voldemort yelling the Avada Kedavra Curse in front of his frightened eyes made him scared to think that he may never see his ascent into adulthood, a chance to fall in love, to have a family and career. And to live until he had a long beard just like Dumbledore’s. Harry shivered rubbing his hands over his arms in the cold he was suddenly feeling even though the inside of the Dursleys’ house was stifling hot.

Harry closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and releasing it out, his ears more sensitive to the sounds which penetrated his ears from outside his open window. He heard the front door shut and his uncle talking hurriedly with his aunt.

"Petunia... I’m telling you, I’m worried about leaving the boys alone while we are away... I’m especially worried about him."

Harry knew he was talking about him.

"Oh, Vernon... the responsibility will be good for Dudley... yes, I might be worried as well but it is an opportunity for Dudley do grow into a civilised, law- abiding person who will value his responsibilities.... can I at least dream that of Duddikins?"

Harry doubted that Dudley would even be responsible as he listened attentively.

"Oh, alright," Vernon replied reluctantly ended the conversation hopping into his car and igniting the ignition.

"Take care."

And Harry heard the car sped off the driveway, his Uncle Vernon gone off to the supermarket.

***

Harry walked down the stairs early in the next morning, his hair in a bigger mess than it would’ve been normally. In his tiredness he had forgotten to put on his spectacles so, as he was about to enter the kitchen he had misjudged the doorway and smashed his shoulder.

"Ouch," he said his rubbing the shoulder profusely.

"Get out of the way, boy." Harry put his back against the wall to let his uncle rush past with toast dangling in one hand and a packed suitcase in the other, that was all Harry could manage to see through squinted eyes.

He turned to enter the kitchen and managed to make out with his poor eyesight: Dudley sneakily searching what was inside the fridge with his piggy eyes. "Aunt Petunia," Harry wailed, with a sense of accomplishment of his duty to not let Dudley fork out any food outside of meal times. "Your son is pigging out of the fridge," Harry said bravely.

"Dudley!" Aunt Petunia screeched from somewhere in the house.

And Harry smiled at Dudley for catching him in the act. Harry wished on the spot he had remembered to put on his glasses, he would’ve liked to see the look on his cousin’s porky face which had not in a bit lost any weight.

"Dudley... you’re still on a diet... why can’t you listen to your mummy and do what she insists is best for you." Aunt Petunia strode into the kitchen, snatching whatever food lay within Dudley’s hungry grasp.

Dudley waddled out, cursing under his breath. Harry could feel his cousin was managing to conjure up a plan within his mind even though he couldn’t fully make out what the expression on his face was.

Harry thought that at least while his aunt and uncle were away he would be able to get his full fill... but he had a growing suspicion he was going to eat less then he would normally eat with his guardians around.

At last, when it was ten o’clock and the sun had risen just enough for the temperature to make a sharp climb, Harry’s aunt and uncle had packed everything into their car and Aunt Petunia cried rather unnecessarily in Dudley’s arms.

"Now," she sniffled, plastering his blonde hair down. "You be a good boy... and you remember what we told you about him." Aunt Petunia flicked her eyes onto Harry’s miserable form. Dudley turned and smirked evilly at Harry before returning to his mother’s ever-loving gaze.

"Don’t worry, Mum... everything will be okay."

Petunia gave her son one last kiss on his rather pink forehead and let go, more tears escaping as she hopped into the car.

Dudley walked over and stood just in front of Harry, his still large figure blocking Harry entirely from view as the car retreated out of the driveway; the tires crunching on the gravel. Dudley waved his parents off, the flesh on his big arms flapping under the force of his movements. Harry didn’t bother waving, they wouldn’t care even if had attempted to, only more interested in their son’s farewell.

At last, when they were out of sight, Dudley turned around and sighed, looking up a his house, marvelling its spectacular view without his parents to annoy. He was free to do whatever he liked and Harry knew it.

Harry narrowed his eyes at a smiling Dudley. "What are you thinking?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I’m free," Dudley answered. "But you're not," he chuckled .

"Oh... is that what you think?"

"Why... what are you going to do?" Dudley’s eyes widened in growing terror. "Mum and Dad said that I’m to tell them if you use your stuff on me."

Harry closed his eyes and put his hand within the pockets of his trousers and soaked in the warmth of the sun... he wasn’t ready to enter the household again, and to begin his chores. "Dudley... I wouldn’t waste my energy on you, so don’t worry," Harry said.

Dudley pursed his lips suddenly thinking deeply. "Let’s make a deal, Harry," Dudley slowly replied.

Harry wasn’t liking the sound of this.

"If you overlook the amount of food I can eat... and don’t tell my mother about it, I won’t let my friends beat you up."

Harry thought about it. He wasn’t going to keep his aunt’s word anyway, there was no way Dudley would listen to him if he ate more then he should’ve. But then-

"Dudley, the food has to last... and I’m not allowed out of the street to get the groceries." The thought of Voldemort killing him on his way to the supermarket sent a shiver down his spine.

"Not to worry, Harry," he smiled mischievously. "Besides, instead of me going on a diet, why don’t you go on one for me?" he suggested.

With anger building up, he shot Dudley a nasty look which made his feelings known, but his cousin was not perturbed in the slightest. Harry’s stomach was already grumbling with hunger. However, he always had Hermione and Ron to save him from starvation. He smiled to himself as he returned the house, catching a glimpse of a barn owl flying overhead.

***

The same barn owl that Harry had seen flying over Privet drive landed on Professor Dumbledore’s window seal at his manor. Dumbledore never saw it. And so, waiting a little impatiently, the owl stared at the back of the professor’s head with its wide yellow eyes, as Dumbledore sipped his cup of iced tea.

A loud hoot heralded for The Headmaster’s attention. Dumbledore span around, a familiar twinkle in his old, yet wise blue eyes shone brightly. He straightened up and breathed in deeply through his nostrils while listening to the owl hoot again; who had stuck out a leg, which had a letter attached.

The owl was freed of its burden and flew off, leaving Dumbledore to open the letter in the hazy summer heat. He scanned the contents, a sombre expression imprinted on his face as he read it.

Harry is very safe at the moment, he knows extremely well not to leave the street.

Dumbledore nodded, and sighed. Harry was indeed safe with his agents taking shifts to watch Harry. He would’ve loved to set up extra protection around Privet drive to act as a barrier against Dark Wizards and Dark Magic until his aunt and uncle were to return from their holiday, but the Magic was too strong that Muggles would notice that something was not normal in their area. He sat down at his desk and replied back, telling Arabella that she had permission to leave. Dumbledore turned to one of the portraits. The subject was fast asleep and the Headmaster tapped the frame to wake the subject up so he could send a message to Order of the Phoenix about the latest development.