The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix Part Three

LXXXV: Do You Like Grapefruit?

Grapefruit. 

Again.

Harry Potter stared at the fruit on his plate at the breakfast table inside Number 4 Privet Drive.

Across the table, Dudley Dursley was making a face of sour, frustrated anger as he watched his mother simpering about the kitchen.

"Don't look so sad popkin!" Aunt Petunia said as she sat down at the table with her own plate, holding an unsweetened quarter of grapefruit. She touched Dudley's arm with a tremulous hand. "Your father's written to the clothier which makes the Smeltings uniforms to see they check the measurements again..."

Smeltings school had written home to Mr. and Mrs. Dursley that their son, Dudley, was unable to fit into even the largest size of the boys' uniform this year. As a result, Petunia had been forced, however hesitantly, to put Dudley onto a diet. This diet included a good deal of baked chicken in the evenings and of quartered grapefruit in the mornings. Harry wondered whether Hermione would be able to take in his Hogwarts uniforms when he got back to school - even though it was Dudley that was being made to diet, the whole family was suffering for it, and none worse than Harry, who had barely weighed as much as Dudley was prescribed to lose to begin with.

"Clearly they've sewn their largest size short this year! Mislabeled, that's what's happened!" Uncle Vernon chuckled. What Uncle Vernon did not mention is that his letter offered to pay any amount to have specially made-to-order uniforms should it be necessary. Anything to return a proper breakfast to the table - pronto. He had just got a rather large bonus from Grunnings and he was willing to spend the lot if it meant he could have bacon smiling up at him from his platter once again.

Harry forced himself to eat the grapefruit. It rather turned his stomach, being so acidic, and made some of his tastebuds feel rather funny. He reckoned he might be allergic to grapefruit, but when he told Aunt Petunia this, she had to simply let him starve to death if he didn't eat the fruit as it was all he was getting.

"I wonder if my godfather, Sirius Black, likes grapefruit?" Harry mused out loud.

Vernon Dursley lowered his paper to look over the top edge at Harry.

Petunia looked at Harry with a bit of shock on her face.

Harry turned back to his grapefruit, trying to keep his amusement off from his face. "Perhaps I'll write him later and ask." 

Petunia looked at Vernon.

"Nobody likes grapefruit," Dudley snapped,  "Don't be stupid. It isn't even real food. It's entirely made of fruit. It's unnatural."

Harry stared at Dudley across the table. "Well, Dudley, this might come as a bit of a shock to you, but fruit is actually --"

Uncle Vernon's eyes flickered fleetingly to Dudley, then back, interrupting Harry. "Writing him, are you?"

"Well I'd write him more if I could get my books and parchments but seeing as they're locked under the stairs --"

"I won't have you doing none of that dangerous magic rubbish being performed in my house..." Uncle Vernon muttered. 

Harry ate another bite of his grapefruit, chewing thoughtfully. "It's alright. I'll just have to figure out how to explain to my godfather when I'm falling behind in my classes because I couldn't do my summer studies. I reckon he won't be very happy to hear about it..."

"Vernon," hissed Aunt Petunia.

Uncle Vernon's mustache bristled.

Later that night, Harry sat in his room at his desk, surrounded by his pile of textbooks and laying his wand carefully on his desk, along with his quills, inks, and parchments. He felt rather proud of himself for having managed to fast-talk his way into getting Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to allow him to have the trunk. He wondered what Sirius Black would think, knowing he'd told a sort of lie by omitting that he, Sirius, was innocent and not a violent murderer like the news had painted him to be the previous summer.