chapter thirty two
the prisoner of azkaban- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of Amelia and Harry's (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister), they had been forced to call her 'Aunt' all his 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 Amelia's mind.
At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Margo had whacked Amelia and Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop them from beating Dudley at musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Amelia and Harry to share. On her last visit, the year before Amelia started at Hogwarts, Amelia had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favourite dog. Ripper had chased both Amelia and Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight. The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.
"Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, "and while we're on the subject," he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Amelia and Harry, "we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."
Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching Amelia and Harry being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudley's favourite form of entertainment.
"Firstly," growled Uncle Vernon, "you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge."
"All right," said Amelia coldly, "if she does when she's talking to us."
"Secondly," said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Amelia's reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any, any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"
"We will if she does," said Harry through gritted teeth.
"And thirdly," said Uncle Vernon, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, "we've told Marge you attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Children."
"What?" Amelia yelled.
"And you'll be sticking to that story, twins, or there'll be trouble," spat Uncle Vernon.
Amelia sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. Aunt Marge coming for a weeklong visit. It was the worst birthday present the Dursleys had ever given her, including that pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.
"Well, Petunia," said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet, "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?"
"No," said Dudley, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Vernon had finished threatening Amelia and Harry.
"Duddy's got to make himself smart for his auntie," said Aunt Petunia, smoothing Dudley's thick blond hair. "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bow-tie."
Uncle Vernon clapped Dudley on his porky shoulder.
"See you in a bit, then," he said, and he left the kitchen.
Amelia and Harry, who had been sitting in a kind of horrified trance, had a sudden idea. Abandoning their toast, they got quickly to their feet and followed Uncle Vernon to the front door.
Uncle Vernon was pulling on his car coat.
"I'm not taking you," he snarled as he turned to see Amelia and Harry watching him.
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YOU ARE READING
Another Potter
Fantasy"You are not just another Potter El," Draco said to the green eyed girl, "you're my favourite Potter." "I'd be concerned if I wasn't." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - In which the Girl Who Lived falls in love with the Slytherin Prince