Modern No-Magic AU Drarry

Chapter Seven

"I dunno, Hermione said we have to invite him," Ron said, accelerating the car slowly so not to slip on the ice. "So I guess we need to ask her what we do now. And no, Charlie broke it two weeks ago."

"Fucking Charlie," Ginny muttered bitterly, blowing into her hands. "Okay, well let me know if you need me again. Though I still think that at least Harry could have done it."

"He would never have listened to me," Harry explained, staring out of the window with a slight frown. "I would have walked in the shop and never been able to even open my mouth unless it was to defend myself from his taunts. You have to constantly be on the defense around him."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, because you've definitely never done anything to provoke him."

Turning around, Harry squinted. "What's that meant to mean?"

Sighing, Ginny shook her head. "Honestly, Harry, you're so thick sometimes. Let me know when you've learnt to notice things when they're dangled under your nose."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but Ron interrupted him. "Let it go, Harry. You won't win."

So the conversation ended.

Later that day, the Ford Anglia slowed to a stop outside a very neat-looking house on Privet Drive.

Leaning against the headrest, Harry sighed. "I was kind of hoping it wouldn't be here when we got back."

Ron nodded sympathetically, putting on the handbrake.

"They hate me," Harry continued. "I don't see why I can't just stay at your house."

Having had this argument every time Ron dropped Harry off back at the Dursley's, he grimaced. "They were pretty clear that you were to be back by five. That's the most generous time they've ever given us, so I wouldn't push it."

"I know."

Both boys unbuckling their seatbelts, they climbed out of the creaky car and popped open the boot to grab out Harry's bag and then started the walk to the front of the door, Ron stopping before he got to the pathway. "I'll text you later, yeah?"

"Yep." Harry glanced miserably to the front door where he knew three - or, at least two - of the worst people he'd ever met lived. "Then I'll see you whenever we next have a shift together?"

"'Course." They hug, Ron patting Harry's back. "Good luck, Harry."

"I'll need it."

Taking his key that his uncle only gave him for today out of his pocket, a sinking feeling of unpleasantness planted itself in Harry's gut as he stepped through the threshold. A smell of steak and mashed potatoes wafts through the house that was littered with photos of the same blonde kid throughout various points in his life, the most recent ones being his high school graduation and the various activities he's been doing during his gap year. Though Harry was sceptical about whether he'd even get into any universities.

Harry hoped to be able to sneak up into his room and not have to engage in any conversation but an older man with a thick moustache caught his eye as he slipped past the living room door.

"Oh. It's you." he said gruffly, staring with distaste down at his dark coffee. It was a wonder he could even see it when he was looking through his thick, oily moustache. Harry didn't understand how Petunia liked it. Yet, maybe terrible people are attracted to other terrible people.

"Hello," Harry said shortly before almost sprinting up the stars.

"Don't get your bloody shoes on the carpet!" Vernon yelled up after him. The newest phase in the Dursley household: no shoes inside. Harry doubted it would last any longer than all of the other phases they went through. It would be a month at most before they'd move onto the next thing.

As soon as he got into his room, Harry clamped his eyes shut and tried to drown out the shrieking of his aunt, saying, "Is that the god forsaken boy already? Come here just to mess up my house, hm?"

Sinking down onto his bed, Harry pulled out his phone and shoved his earbuds in, hoping that Ben Platt's pleasant, powerful voice would ease him into an unagitated mood. All he could imagine was the Dursleys eating their meal as a happy little family downstairs, the glow of the fireplace warming them as they laugh with each other. Harry was never included in these family moments. He was left to listen to the familial festivities as he stared at his blank ceiling roof, feeling too strange and numb to fall asleep.

He rarely slept when he was at the Dursleys, anyways.