Chapter 2:
First Day Home
Although Harry had slept deeply, he woke quickly and was immediately alert. A glance at the window told him it was just before dawn. He thought briefly of watching the sunrise and decided to shower before his Aunt and Uncle woke.
Feeling somewhat refreshed from the hot water, Harry dressed and made his way downstairs. After the way Mad Eye had warned his relatives about his happiness, Harry decided he would try to start off on the right foot by cooking breakfast. Several minutes later with sausages frying, and the coffee perking, he was able to whip the eggs for a quick scramble when the rest of the family came down to eat. He started toasting bread and poured himself a glass of orange juice to sip while he was cooking. Just as the percolator gave it's last burble the kitchen door swung wide and Aunt Petunia charged through the door looking about with an amazed expression etched on her boney face. "Wh-what's all this?" she demanded.
"I thought it would be nice if I made breakfast for everyone, instead of just myself," Harry answered, trying a small smile for good measure he added, "Good Morning." Taking a coffee cup from the cabinet he poured a cup and held it out to her, "It just finished brewing."
Aunt Petunia looked at him quizzically for a moment before taking the cup from him with weak fingers. She looked around the kitchen as though she were looking for something to criticize, but Harry had been cleaning up behind himself. He gave the sausage another turn, trying not to smile at his aunts discomfiture he asked, "Shall I fix the eggs now, or should I wait for Uncle Vernon?"
She turned her head toward the stairs and they both could hear his heavy lumbering step, a faint conspiratorial smile tinged her expression as she lowered herself in a seat at the table, before she barked, "Well boy, get the eggs on!"
By the time his uncle had retrieved the paper and hurried into the kitchen, there was no trace of a smile on either Petunia's or Harry's face. He quickly poured his uncle a cup of coffee before he could ask and went back to cooking breakfast. Within moments he placed a platter filled with sausages, eggs, and toast in the middle of the table.
Vernon looked down his nose at the meal before him and growled, "Thought with that little reception yesterday, you'd think you were above doing your share around here boy!"
Harry took a deep breath to steady his temper. There was no reason to start off on the wrong foot on the first morning of vacation. "I don't mind helping, Uncle Vernon," he replied evenly. "My friends just don't want me to be treated like a prisoner this summer."
A red flush began creeping up Vernon's jowly cheeks, "We've taken you in, out of the goodness of our hearts. We've put up with your unnaturalness, your weird ways, and your weirder friends coming to pick you up through the fireplace! A little gratitude from YOU is in order, I do believe!"
"Uncle Vernon," Harry began calmly, barely keeping his temper in check, "I do appreciate the fact that you've have taken me in. I do wish that I could share more of my life with you, but you wouldn't appreciate or understand what I have to tell you. I hope that this summer might be a little different."
Vernon's mouth opened and closed once or twice, not having any sarcastic or angry retort to make about his nephew being polite and cooperative. Petunia came to his rescue, "Vernon darling, have some breakfast before it gets cold." He picked up the platter and shoveled some food onto his plate wordlessly.
By the time that Dudley waddled into the kitchen, breakfast had been cleared away and Aunt Petunia had placed half a grapefruit on the table in front of his chair. "Aw mum, can't I have more than this to eat? I have to keep up with my training!"
"Duddy darling, you know the school nurse has sent home a new diet sheet this summer," she trilled sweetly at her son. "You'll notice that there is HALF a grapefruit on your plate instead of only a quarter!"
"But mum," he whined, "I can nearly smell sausages and eggs!"
Petunia cheeks flushed slightly before replying in a rush, "Don't be silly darling, now eat your breakfast like a good boy. I have to go and vacuum the living room."
*
Harry sat at his desk writing letters when Hedwig swooped in the window, landing softly beside her cage. Harry grinned at her asking, "Did you have a good night girl?" He laid down his quill to stroke her downy feathers. "Would you take these to Dumbledore, Ron, and Hermione?" Hedwig blinked slowly and nibbled his fingers gently. She waddled over to her cage for a drink to wait for him to finish writing. He rolled up his letters, writing their names on each before tying them to Hedwig's leg. She clicked her beak before hopping to the window, she looked over her shoulder and hooted softly, in a reassuring manner and soared silently out the window.
Harry had retreated to his room after breakfast and decided to write to all three, telling them everything he could remember from his dream. He made a bet with himself what their responses would be, Dumbledore would tell him not to worry, but to keep him informed if he had any more dreams of Sirius coming to him in his dreams to impart reassurance and/or advise. Ron would worry, and probably talk it over with his dad before replying with a letter full of contradictions, 'Don't worry Harry, it was just a dream. But . . . you don't suppose it's some sort of trick from you-know-who do you?'" and Hermione, she would look the dream up in her books and try to interpret what it might have met, all the while telling him that he should probably write to Dumbledore and let him know all about it. He hoped he would be able to keep to himself that he already had so he could see her face when he told her that Dumbledore was one of the first people he wrote to.
Now it was nearing lunchtime, and Harry didn't want to spend his whole vacation in his room so he wandered downstairs. Dudley was out with his friends, probably terrorizing the neighborhood. Uncle Vernon was playing golf with his cronies; Harry had seen him load his clubs into the car not long after breakfast. Aunt Petunia was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea and staring out the window. Harry remembered the faint smile she had given him this morning and decided to test the waters, "Aunt Petunia?" She jumped and set her cup down before spilling tea all over herself.
"Yes? What do you want?"
"I was wondering if, if perhaps you might talk with me for a while?" he asked tentatively.
"Talk?" she asked sardonically, "Whatever would WE have to talk about?"
"Well," Harry drawled out the word, trying to figure out how to ask what he wanted without making her shriek at him. "We might talk about my mother."
She flinched slightly and started to rise out of her chair. Harry leaned forward, eyes pleading. Here was the one person that had known his mother all of her life, he wanted desperately to know more about her so he asked again, "Please, I really want to know what she was like."
Petunia sank slowly back into her seat and was quiet for a long moment before she began, "Your mother and I never got along very well. She was always very outgoing and intelligent. Top marks in grade school. She was always chosen for the best parts in the school productions. While I was, well, quite a bit more shy. I always had to study very very hard to get even average marks in school. I was never chosen to be 'on stage' during a school production," she laughed mirthlessly. "I remember the last one before she went to that school, they were doing Cinderella. Of course your mother was the Star of the Show! I was put in charge of costumes."
Harry was proud to hear that his mother has always done well, but seeing the sadness in Aunt Petunia's eyes at the moment, he couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her. "So that's why," he whispered softly.
Petunia looked up from her teacup and asked, "What's why?"
"That's why you called her 'your perfect sister' that night. The night Hagrid came for me on that island."
Petunia looked back into her teacup, "Yes, I suppose so." She was very quiet for a long moment before continuing, "You were never a very easy child to raise, you know."
"What do you mean? What could I have done when I was a baby?" he asked sharply, trying to contain his anger. Anger wouldn't get him the answers he was looking for.
"It was obvious from the time you were a baby that you were 'one of them' that you weren't normal."
"Oh. Well, most of the time I'm rather glad I'm not normal. But there are times when I do wish otherwise." Harry admitted.
"You could try to show that a bit more around here," she replied sharply. "Remember that we don't go in for that other sort of thing round here. And don't you think that we'll be chatting like old friends either." She looked flustered, like she had given away secrets she wasn't supposed to.
"I'll try to stay out of your way and to help out when I can," he
replied through gritted teeth, once again reigning in his temper.
Petunia hesitated before replying, "See that you do."
Harry decided it was time to get some fresh air and headed toward the door.