‣︎︎CHAPTER TWO

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trigger warning! mild abuse in this chapter, read at your own comfort level.

CHAPTER TWO:
DINNER PARTY

☍︎︎

AFTER HER MELTDOWN, DAISY GAVE HARRY HIS BIRTHDAY PRESENT. 

He was surprised, of course, not thinking that she'd remember. To be fair, she'd forgotten nearly every year before and had never given him a proper present, but she'd worked all summer on his gift.

"It's a bad sketch," Daisy shrugged, feeling awkward as he stared at the parchment in awe. "I couldn't use ink and quill so it didn't blend right on the parchment, and I had to steal on of my dad's -- em, Vernon's -- pens so it's kind of messy and the faces look a bit muddy, but I think you get the idea and, mmph," Daisy stopped rambling, wrapping her arms around Harry, who'd pulled her into a tight hug.

"I love it," he whispered in her ear. "Thank you, Daisy."

Pulling back, he looked down at the parchment in his hand. She'd taken one of her pages from Theo's sketchbook and drawn, to the best of her ability with the tools she had, a sketch of Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing and laughing together.

"It doesn't move or anything like a magical one, obviously, but -- "

"--Daisy," he cut her off with a touched smile. "Stop putting it down. Thank you."

Daisy nodded, shrugging her shoulders and looking out the window. She wished time could fly by and they'd be boarding the express already. She missed her friends.

Harry lied down on the garden bench outside the house and Daisy took a seat on the grass, enjoying the comforting feeling of the earth below her feet. She felt closer to herself somehow, feeling the same magical buzzing she felt holding her wand.

She'd had strange experiences with magic, or what she chalked up to her magical capabilities, since attending Hogwarts last year. After her wand was locked up, she itched to have an outlet, feeling like something was blocked up inside of her.

For one thing, Daisy had grown very itchy under her skin lately, as though something trickled through her veins and crawled through her bones. (Harry could find no bites or scratches or lumps or anything else they could think of -- so she didn't think she was dying.)

She'd also found herself having the strangest dreams, even worse than before. Before, she'd dream of amber eyes and a magic castle -- which, she realized after attending was Hogwarts -- and Harry looking years older.

The dreams weren't the same as they were at Hogwarts, either. They weren't memories or nightmares...she felt as though she were somewhere else entirely. Her hands would go numb, but she registered they were hers, and she could hear screaming. She could feel something scaled slither against her legs, like a snake, and hear a strange hissing sound. She could smell blood and feel pain, insurmountable, unbelievable pain. And then she'd wake up.

Picking at the flowers around her absentmindedly, she jumped when Harry moved for the first time in nearly twenty minutes. Before she could say anything, heavy footsteps thudded through the grass.

"I know what day it is," Dudley sang, coming closer, staring down at him with a sneer.

"Well done," Harry said sarcastically. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."

Daisy snorted out a laugh, grinning to herself.

"Today's your birthday," Dudley sneered, scowling at his sister. Daisy shrugged in response. He wouldn't defend her in front of their parents, why should she defend him to Harry? "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"

DURSLEY ― harry potterWhere stories live. Discover now