Stay - Mattheo Riddle

Aunt Marge

The Potter twins went down to breakfast the next morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. 

The twins sat opposite each other, both of them stealing small glances at each other, they weren't on the best of terms and the two of them had seemed to make it very clear, which seemed to amuse Dudley.

Far from wishing Kirra or Harry a happy birthday, none of the Dursleys made any sign that they had noticed the twins enter the room, but they were far too used to this to care. The twins helped themselves to a piece of toast and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict. 

"... the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately." Black. Why had the last name seemed to familiar to Kirra? She tried to think why the name rang bells in her mind but she just couldn't figure it out.

"No need to tell us he's no good," snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper atthe prisoner. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!" He shot a nasty look sideways at Kirra whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. 

Kirra looked at the picture of the man on the television whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, it was beginning to really bug the 13-year-old girl as she tried to figure out what was so goddamn familiar about him.

Black. Black. Black. 

The reporter had reappeared. "The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today —"

"Hang on!" barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!" Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. 

 Kirra knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hot line number. She was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on the boring, law-abiding neighbors. 

 "When will they learn," said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"

"Very true," said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner-beans. Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten." 

Kirra, whose thoughts had wandered off to a particular brunette Slytherin with beautiful chocolate brown eyes and a scar on his nose, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump. 

"Aunt Marge?" she and her brother blurted out. 

"Sh-she's not coming here, is she?" The twins both asked at the same time, both wearing horrid looks on their faces at the thought of it. Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of the twins, (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister), they had been forced to call her 'Aunt' all their life. 

Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in the twin's minds. 

 At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at musical statues and yanked on Kirras hair. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley, a chewed-up dog toy for Kirra and a box of dog biscuits for Harry.