There was an odd sound of muffled silence coming from the kitchen. Harry started his normal morning routine of putting the apron and getting breakfast ready and on the table.

He managed to catch a glimpse of Aunt Petunia, who was muttering to herself as she scrambled back and forth in the kitchen. She looked worried, as she dropped a letter from her hand as she hastily exited the room.


To Dudley Dursley
In the kitchen refrigerator, stuffing his face
4 Privet Drive
Little Whining
Surrey


What’s this about? Harry thought as he eyed the envelope on the floor. He picked it up, then turned it over to see an odd insignia pressed into a wax seal.

It was unlike any post he had ever seen.

A strange huffy sound rose from the Dursley’s sitting room. Harry slowly walked into the hallway to hear what was going one.

“Sweetheart, I thought we were putting an end to this nonsense when he arrived?"

“But darling, this is different. Our Duddy is special – very special.”

“So was your sister, dear.”

His Aunt Petunia made a sound as if her toes had been stepped on, “My sister was a witch! She acted like one way before she went to that school. So she only got worse when she came back.” Then her tone slightly soften as she continued, “Dudley is an angel. If he has these special abilities that they are saying he has, then he can only get better. He could be a saint or a great healer! Duddy could be famous!”

Harry almost choked as he held back the laughter that erupted from him. But the disturbance was enough for the Dursley’s to stop their conversation and entered into the hall.

“Eavesdropping now, aren’t we?” Vernon said in a slightly menacing tone. “I suppose the school hasn’t taught you anything about manners and not to listen in on other peoples conversations.”

“Or they must have taught it to you and you failed at it miserably ,” Aunt Petunia added, rather smugly. Both Dursleys glared down at him as if they were starring at a roach in their clean pristine home. Harry, unnerved by their stares, matched their looks unwaveringly.

“No matter, dear…no matter,” Vernon looked almost defeated as he made his statement. “No matter how we’ve tried to raise him, he is not our own. No, he is not one of us. But we don’t have to worry about such rudeness from our own son.”

Then, as if he were on queue, Dudley entered the sitting room looking half sleep and famished. Vernon proudly strode up to him to give his boy a fiercely strong hug.

“My son, how would you like to go to school at Hogwarts?”