[1] New Beginnings: Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, and the Philosopher's Stone

6: frustration

Percy was startled by Uncle Vernon pulling him to his feet by his hair. He saw that Harry had received similar treatment. "Both of you - car - now!" The man's face was a dark red from rage, and it was slowly turning to deep purple. He pushed the two boys to the car, and they stumbled along, followed by Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and his friend. Dudley and his friend were both soaked to the bone and shivering, towels wrapped around their shoulders.

The car ride back to 4 Privet Drive was silent and tense. It almost reminded Percy of when he was first adopted by the Dursleys. There had been a silent car ride then, too. Uncle Vernon pulled the van into the driveway, almost crashing into the garage door because of his speed. They all got out of the car and Uncle Vernon once again grabbed both Percy and Harry's hair with his meaty hands, dragged them into the house, up the stairs to the first door on the right, and threw them into the room unceremoniously. "No supper - for a week!" He spit out. He then slammed the door in their faces.

Percy stood up. "But we didn't even do anything!" he shouted at the door. He kicked the wall next to it and proceeded to hop around on one foot, holding his toes.

Harry snickered at him. "Serves you right. Kicking walls is mean."

"You're the mean one." Percy collapsed onto his bed and looked up at the ceiling. He heard Harry sit down on his bed and pick something up off of their shared dresser. Percy looked over at him and saw him looking at the only picture he had of his parents. "You alright?" he asked softly.

Harry shook his head and put the picture back on their dresser. "No, not really." Percy waited for him to go on. Harry lay back on his bed in the same position as Percy. It was silent for a few moments, then, "I just - sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if my parents hadn't died, you know?"

"Yeah, me too," Percy said. He could relate, and Harry knew it. He still had that letter that his mother had left him when he was dropped off at the orphanage. He had refused to throw it away and still hadn't read it, for fear of what it might say.

There was suddenly a loud stomping on the stairs. The door was flung open. It was Uncle Vernon. "You two get downstairs in thirty seconds or no supper for another week," he growled out. He then stomped back down the stairs.

If there was one thing Percy absolutely loved, it was food. He was out the door and running down the stairs before Harry had even gotten up off his bed. He rushed downstairs and skidded to a halt in the living room. The Dursleys were already there. Harry walked through the door a few seconds later.

Uncle Vernon was standing in front of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. His wife and son were both sitting on the couch and clutching each other, white in the face. Dudley's friend had left. Uncle Vernon suddenly turned and unclasped his hands. He held out his left fist to Percy, who warily crept forward. He opened his hand and out fluttered several ripped up shreds of parchment. Percy tried his best to catch them all, then retreated back over to Harry and gave him the pieces. Uncle Vernon started to speak. "If I see any more of these - these letters," he spit out the word letters with venom lacing each syllable, "the consequences will be so severe, you cannot even imagine." His voice lowered an octave at the end of his sentence.

Percy nodded quickly and elbowed Harry in the ribs. "Ouch!" Harry hissed. He nodded too.

Mr. Dursley pointed back towards the door. "Now, out." The two boys all but ran upstairs and collapsed on the floor.

After a few moments, Percy said, "Can you believe him!? It's not our fault that we got letters!"

Harry nodded in agreement. "I know Percy, I know."