"Do I really have to go?" I groaned.
My mother turned from where she was cooking chicken. "Yes Peyton, you do. Harry is your brother, and like it or not, the Dursleys are your family," she said.
"I don't like it. Think of the furthest thing from the thing you like the most, then stop thinking because you will never be able to imagine how much I dislike it. I'm not going and that is final!" I stomped my foot.
Two days later mum dropped me off at the Dursleys with my bag. "I hate you!" I yelled at her.
"See you in a week. Say Happy birthday to your brother for me, will you?" Molly called back.
I rolled my eyes and walked up to the doorstep, where Harry was staring at me. "Welcome to hell, Peyton," he said.
I stomped past him and into the dining room, where a lumpy boy was sitting eating breakfast, next to a woman and Vernon Dursley, who I recognized from the station. "Let me guess, this is Dursley Jr," I say, sitting next to him.
The boy glances over at me, then away, then back again. "Who are you?" he demanded.
"Dudley, I told you my sister Peyton was staying her for a week," Harry told him.
"Involuntarily," I added. Dudley eyed me. "Don't look at me like that you pig-faced troglodyte," I told him. There was an uncomfortable noise from the woman and I turned to get my first look at Petunia Dursley.
She was tall and lean, and not much to look at, really. Lily clearly got the good genes, which I am glad about. While Lily had beautiful flowy red locks, Petunia had dark brown stumps. Where Lily had gleaming green eyes, Petunia had large pale blue ones.
To sum it up, Lily was a super model and Petunia would be lucky to be a troll under the bridge.
"Hi Petunia and Vernon. Oh and I was told to say Happy birthday to you Harry from Mum, so Happy birthday. That isn't from me, I don't give a shit," I smiled at Harry, who sat awkwardly down between Dudley and Vernon.
I picked up a piece of toast and turned to look at the television, a muggle contraption that basically is just a bunch of videos on a bigger screen, all connected to a live network, or that's what Nina described it as. There was an announcement about an escaped convict playing. "Who broke out?" I asked.
"Sirius Black," Vernon told me and I choked on my toast.
"Did you say Sirius Black?" I asked.
I turned to look at the TV again. " ... the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately," the news reporter told them.
"How do you know Sirius Black?" Harry asked me.
"I don't answer to you, you stuck up prick," I told him. Dudley snickered.
"The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today - "
"Hang on!" Vernon barked at the TV, staring furiously at the newsreader. "You didn't tell us where the maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!" Vernon exclaimed. Petunia peered out the window intently. "When will they learn," Vernon pounded on the table. "That hanging's the only way to deal with these people?" I scoffed quietly, but no one was paying attention.
"Very true," Petunia agreed.
Vernon drained his cup and checked his watch. "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia, Marge's train gets in at ten," he added.
Harry's head snapped towards him. "Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "Sh-she's not coming here, is she?" he asked.
I started paying attention again. The boy who killed a massive snake and a teacher with his bare hands is scared of a muggle? Sounds fun.
"Marge will be here for a week," Vernon snarled. "And while we're on the subject," he pointed at the two of us. "We need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her." Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the TV.
"Quick question -- does this Marge woman dislike Harry? If so, we will get along perfectly, because I can't stand the smug stick," I piped in.
"I'm right here," Harry said, and I shoved my toast in his face.
"Are we bullying 'the Chosen One?' I'm all for it," I said.
Vernon ignored me, turning to Harry. "Firstly, you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge," he told Harry.
"All right, if she does when she's talking to me," Harry replied bitterly.
"Secondly, as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any - any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourselves, got me?" Vernon instructed.
"I will if she does," Harry said through gritted teeth.
I grinned. "I have been able to control my magic and emotional link since I was 7, I think I can handle anything she can throw at me. She hits me with a car, I won't do anything," I promised.
"And thirdly, we've told Marge you attend St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys," Vernon finished.
"What?!" Harry yelled. I snickered, and Dudley laughed.
"You'll be sticking to that story, boy, or there'll be trouble," Vernon spat. Harry looked furious, but I was excited. This week was going to be fun.
When Marge arrived, I had the perfect seat. The Dursleys had a chair facing the doorway, and I'd made a bowl of popcorn, so I could watch the carnage in a cozy chair.
Petunia was panicking, Dudley was dressed with a bow tie and gelled hair, and Harry ... just looked like Harry, which angered Petunia. "Do something about your hair!" Petunia snapped. I giggled. It seemed like forever when the car finally pulled up. "Get the door!" Petunia hissed at Harry, who obeyed.
Marge was large, beefy and purple faced, she even had a mild moustache. In one hand she held an enormous suitcase, and tucked under the other was a bulldog. "Where's my Dudders?" Marge roared. "Where's my neffy poo?" Dudley waddled down the hallway. Marge threw her suitcase at Harry and hugged Dudley tightly. "Petunia!" Marge shouted, striding over to Petunia and kissed her cheek.
Vernon walked in, smiling. "Tea, Marge? And what will Ripper take?" he asked.
"Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer," Marge said as they all went into the kitchen, minus Harry, who went upstairs with Marge's suitcase.
"Cute dog," I said, leaving the popcorn on the island bench and walking over to Ripper.
Marge eyed me. "Who is this?" she asked.
"I'm the selfish scar face boy's sister, Peyton Mary Marlene Potter," I said.
"The boy has a sister?" she recoiled.
"Sadly, yes. I was pissed when I found out. Like, he is such an annoying attention seeking prat," I rolled my eyes.
"How come I've never heard of you?" Marge demanded.
"None of them have. I found out last year. So basically when Lily Potter died, I was still in the womb. They put me in this little incubation pod thingy so the rest of my body would grow for three months," I explained.
"Technology is so advanced," Marge said.
"Yeah. My adoptive mother is forcing me to spend time with Scar Face, so I'm staying here for the week," I told her.
Petunia placed Marge's tea and a few fruitcakes. She drunk half of the tea and let Ripper lap up the rest. I spot Harry coming down the stairs and groan on the inside. "Who's looking after the other dogs, Marge?" Vernon asked.
"You have more?" I exclaimed.
"Twelve dogs all together, although Ripper's my favourite. I've got Colonel Fubster managing the other dogs. He's retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn't leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he's away from me," Marge said.
Ripper began to growl as Harry sat down. That directed Marge's attention to him. "So!" she barked. "Still here are you?"
"Yes," said Harry. I popped some popcorn in my mouth and watched the carnage with a grin.
"Don't you say 'yes' in that ungrateful tone," Marge growled. "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep." Harry looked annoyed, then seemed to force himself into a painful smile. "Don't you smirk at me!" Marge boomed. "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you. Where is it that you sent him again, Vernon?" she took a large gulp of tea and wiped her mouth.
"St Brutus's," Vernon answered promptly. "It's a first rate institution for hopeless cases."
"I see," said Marge. "Do they use the cane at St Brutus's, boy?" she barked across the table.
I glanced at Vernon, who nodded at Harry behind her back. Cane?
"Yes. All the time," he answered, and I take a sip of pumpkin juice that I'd managed to smuggle with me, to hide my smile.
"Excellent. I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have you been beaten often?" Marge questioned Harry, and I raised my eyebrow at him.
"Oh, yeah. Loads of times," Harry said, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my laughter.
Luckily, Marge was still looking at Harry, narrowing her eyes. "I still don't like your tone, boy," she said. "If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case."
I glanced at Harry. I didn't realize muggles treated all their relatives this way. Luckily, Vernon changed the subject, but it wasn't to a much better one.
"Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"
* * *
As the week went on, I got more comfortable. The Dursleys sent Harry back to his old room, which meant the cupboard under the stairs, and gave me his room. I felt a tinge of guilt, but then I remembered what a prick he was and it vanished.
Marge bullied Harry all week, which was fun to watch, and even funnier when Harry just accepted it and didn't snap back, which meant Vernon bribed him. She treated Dudley like a god, buying him expensive gifts. She even bought me on a shopping trip, and got me a bunch of hair products, jewelry and stationary for the new school year. I didn't know half the stuff she talked about, but just nodded along like it was normal. I should probably take muggle studies so I can learn about the telefone, whatever that was, and all the other weird appliances.
Luckily, the end of the week soon arrived, when Marge and I would both go home. Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Vernon got the wine out. They got all the way through the soup and salmon without a single insult towards Harry, which was sad.
"Can I tempt you, Marge?" Vernon asked as he got out the brandy. Marge had already had rather a lot of wine, and her face was very red.
"Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that ... and a bit more ... that's the boy."
Dudley was eating his fourth slice of lemon meringue pie, Petunia was sipping tea, Vernon was drinking brandy, and Harry was hovering.
"Aah," Marge smacked her lips and put the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after ... " she burped and I recoiled. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at Dudley. "You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon . . . now, this one here -" Marge jerked her head at Harry, who was staring at his plate. I picked up my glass and walked to the sink to get some water.
"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia, but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us," Marge said.
I squeezed my glass, shutting my eyes and trying to block out her voice. I'd stopped liking the woman in an instance. Insulting my brother is fine, but my mother is crossing the line.
"This Potter," Marge's voice drilled into my brain. "you never told me what he did?" There was a silence and I dug my nails into my arm.
"He - didn't work. Unemployed," Vernon said. "As I expected! A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who -"
"He was not," Harry interrupted, which was good, because I was three seconds away from piercing an artery.
"MORE BRANDY!" Vernon yelled. "You, boy. Go to bed, go on -"
"No, Vernon," Marge interrupted. "Go on boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash, (drunk, I expect) - "
"They didn't die in a car crash!" Harry yelled, and I dropped the glass, shattering it on the floor.
"They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent hardworking relatives! You are an insolent, ungrateful little -"
Marge stopped speaking, and I let my arm go, cursing at the blood piercing through the skin. A tissue box sat on the counter, and I press it against the blood. I stop the bleeding, turn around to put the tissues in the rubbish and freeze. Marge is swelling up, and it wasn't stopping. She was inflating like a balloon.
"MARGE!" Vernon and Petunia yelled.
Harry ran out the door and I ran upstairs, packing my stuff back in my bag with a flick of my wrist. The ministry would already know about the magic, what's the harm in adding a little extra fire to the flame.
I drag my bag downstairs, and meet Harry in the hallway. "COME BACK IN HERE! COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!!" Vernon yelled at us.
Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it at the man. "She deserved it. She deserved what she got. You keep away from me," he opened the door and left.
I turned to look at Petunia. "She insulted my parents. I may not have known them, but nobody insults my parents. Nobody," I said, following Harry out.
We made it several streets before Harry leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. I sat next to him and fiddled with the hair ties on my wrist. I flicked them against my skin, ignoring the pain.
We sat for ten minutes in the dark before Harry stood up. I got to my feet. "Now what?" I asked.
"I don't know," Harry replied.
"Well thank god for that. We're stuck in the middle of the night, you just got yourself expelled, maybe even arrested and you have no plan. Perfect, just perfect," I sigh. Harry opened his trunk and pushed the contents aside, looking for something. He glanced up, looking around. "What?" I ask.
Harry squints. "Lumos," he whispered, and his wand lit up. He peered towards an alley, looking at something. He stepped backwards and tripped over his trunk. His wand flew out of his hand and I laughed.
"Try not to trip," I chuckled, and he glared at me.
There was a bang and a purple bus sped in front of us, stopping. I grinned. "I never thought I would get to ride the Knight Bus," I whispered.
A conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this eve-" the man stopped as he spotted Harry on the ground. Harry picked his wand up and stood up. "What were you doin' down there?" Stan asked.
"Fell over," Harry answered.
"Choo fall over far?" Stan sniggered.
"I didn't do it on purpose," Harry said, annoyed.
"Yeah, he's a real annoying arrogant klutz," I said, grinning at my brother, who rolled his eyes. He glanced off to stare at the alleyway again.
"Choo looking at?" Stan asked.
"There was a big black thing," Harry pointed at the gap. "Like a dog ... but massive ... " he looked at Stan, who's eyes moved to his forehead.
"Woss that on your 'ead?" Stan asked.
"A bruise. I punched him because he's an annoying wanker," I said quickly, kicking the boy, who quickly flattened his hair over his scar. "Woss your names?" Stan asked. "Neville Longbottom," Harry said.
"And I'm Peyton," I added.
"So this bus, did you say it goes anywhere?" Harry asked.
"Yep. Anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater. 'ere," Stan started looking suspicious. "You did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and dincha?"
"Yeah, my stupid friend is a muggleborn, so he isn't used to this kinda stuff," I kicked Harry again, and he glared at me. "How much would it be to get to London?"
"Eleven sickles each, but for firteen you get an 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the colour of your choice." Harry rummaged through his trunk and shoved some silver into Stan's hand. We then lifted the trunks and Harry's owl's cage onto the the bus.
There were half a doze brass bedsteads stood beside the windows. "You 'ave these ones," Stan shoved Harry's trunk under one bed right behind the driver and mine under another. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom and Peyton, Ern." Ernie nodded to us, and Harry nervously flattened his fringe again.
I lay on my bed. "Hold on tight, Nev," I told Harry, who sat on his own bed.
"Why do I need to-"
"Take 'er away, Ern." Stan said, and there was a bang. Harry fell flat on his bed, thrown backwards by the bus's speed. I laugh at Harry's face.
"This is where we were before you flagged us down. Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?" Stan asked the driver.
"How come the muggles don't hear the bus?" Harry asked and I scoff.
"Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'."
"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," Ern said. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute."
Stan passed their beds and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase, before returning shortly with a faintly green witch in a travelling cloak. "'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," Stan said as Ern stamped on the brakes. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG and we were thundering down a narrow country lane.
I twirled my wand in my fingers, staring out the window. I hadn't needed a wand, being able to do wandless magic from the age of eight, but it was nice having something in case I needed it.
"That man! He was on the muggle news!" I heard Harry exclaim, and turned to see Stan reading a copy of the Daily Prophet with Sirius Black's face on it. I cursed slightly, but neither of them heard me.
"Sirius Black," Stan nodded. "Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?" Stan chuckled at the blank look on Harry's face and handed him the first page of the paper. I peek over his shoulder to read.
BLACK STILL AT LARGE
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
'We are doing all we can to recapture Black,' said the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, 'and we beg the magical community to remain calm.'
Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.'Well, really, I had to, don't you know,' said an irritable Fudge. 'Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it -- who'd believe him if he did?' While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand which Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.
I stared at the photo of Black. He had shadowed eyes, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. He looked like a vampire, with his waxy white skin.
"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" Stan said.
"He murdered thirteen people?" Harry questioned, handing the page back. "with one curse?"
"Yep," Stan said. "In front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?" I turned to look at the old driver, who agreed darkly. "Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," Stan said.
"What, Voldemort?" Harry said without thinking, and I ran my hand down my face. Ever Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus.
"Oh just shut up Nev you old twat. Stop being such an idiot, no wonder your not in Ravenclaw, bloody hell, are you that goddamn stupid?" I glared at him.
"So -- so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted, ignoring the snort I made.
"Yeah, yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say ... anyway, when little 'Arry Potter put paid to You-Know-'Oo" -- I glare at Harry and he nervously flattened his fringe down again -- "all You-Know-'Oo's supporters were tracked down, wasn't they Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over.
"Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles, an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh?" An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper. "What?" said Harry. "Laughed," Stan said. "Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv 'em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?"
"If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind ... after what he did ..."
I scoffed, grabbing a book out of my trunk and flicking through to my page.
"They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'append, Ern?"
"Gas explosion," Ern grunted.
"An' now 'e's out. Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"
"You lot are so gullible," I say from my bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Harry and Stan look at me.
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.
"Sirius Black loved muggles. The only thing he murdered was people's eardrums, because he would constantly play Muggle music in his dorm room and common room, which may I say were Gryffindor. He let himself be tortured by his family because he refused to get the dark mark," I said without looking up.
"Where 'Oo get all that from?" Stan asked.
"Lily Potter's extensive diaries," I flicked a page in my book. There was silence. Then ...
"What diaries?" Harry asked.
"Molly gave me all of mum and dad's old stuff when I came home for the summer," I said. "This actually was one of mum's muggle books, that may I add, she loaned to Black to read because he doesn't despise muggles."
"Merlin's beard, you're Peyton Potter," Ern whispered, and I nodded.
"And that ain't Neville Longbottom, it's Harry I've-got-a-hero-complex Potter. He's just assuming that the ministry is going to hunt us down because he lost his temper and blew up our aunt, but she totally deserved it. We got along just fine until she insulted our parents," I said.
"She bullied me for a whole week," Harry frowned.
"And you deserved it. But calling mum a defective bitch and dad a lazy insolent scrounger is where I draw the line," I said.
"She said they were what!?" Ern shouted, and I nodded.
"She's a muggle," Harry explained.
"The whole family is like that. Luckily I got away, but Harry was stuck with them. Shame Hero-Complex," I snickered. "Now can I finish reading my book? C.S. Lewis didn't write this series so people could hold the books open and talk about other boring shit."
The rest of the ride was quiet, mostly because I ignored everything everyone was saying and listened to muggle music on my Walkman that Marge had brought me. Dudley had shown me how to use it, you plug headphones in and listen to songs, so I was currently listening to Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, American Pie by Don McLean and a bunch of other songs I didn't know the name of, but those were my favourite.
By the time my mix-tape loop finished, we were the last ones left. Harry asked them to take us to Diagon Alley, without asking me which is a bit problematic, but he is Hero-Complex Potter, so I'm not shocked. We jumped off the bus and grabbed out trunks.
"There you two are," I heard, and turn to see Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.
"Oh look, it's the balding president of the world, who is so gullible he thinks that Black is a murderer," I wave cutely, before walking inside.
Unfortunately, Fudge led Harry in behind me.
"Look, are you going to lecture the twat about blowing up Marge? The bitch deserved it," I turned around, folding my arms.
"Would you two mind joining me upstairs?" Fudge asked, ignoring what I'd said.
"I would mind, actually, but you are going to make me anyway, so why not," I sighed, waving my hand and a red glow surrounded my trunk, lifting it in the air.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, annoyed.
"I'm not about to lug it with us, I'm lazy, get over it," I said.
"You aren't allowed to use underage magic!" Harry growled.
"Rules are made to be broken," I shrugged.
"Rules are made to be followed, nothing is made to be broken," Fudge said.
"Uhh, piñatas?" I said.
"Glowsticks."
"Karate boards."
"Eggs."
"Rules," I finished.
Fudge looked so done with me and Harry. "I'm getting to old for this," he mumbled, walking off and gesturing for us to follow him. "Sit down," Fudge showed gestured to the seats, and I transfigured mine into a cozy armchair. Fudge didn't even bother to tell me off. "Well, Harry, Peyton," Fudge began, pouring out tea. "You've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think ... but you're safe, and that's what matters."
Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate towards them. "Eat, go on, you look dead on your feet. Now then ... You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done," Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favourite nephew.
Harry opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. "Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your families?" Fudge asked. 'Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, your aunt and uncle, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays. As for you, Peyton, well your mother seemed upset, but they will be glad you are okay." I rolled my eyes.
Harry unstuck his throat. "I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," he said. "And I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive."
I rolled my eyes again. He was so overdramatic.
"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down,' Fudge said in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other – er – very deep down. So all that remains,' said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, 'is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your holidays. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and –"
'Hang on," Harry blurted.
"What about my punishment?" Fudge blinked. "Punishment?"
"I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"
I scoffed. "Hero-complex, when you get off without punishment, you don't ask for some. Amateur. I should enroll you in the Fred and George School for Causing Mischief," I said.
"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" Fudge waved his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"
Harry looked even more annoyed at this. "Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" Harry frowned. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"
Fudge was suddenly looking awkward. "Circumstances change, Harry ... we have to take into account ... in the present climate ... surely you don't want to be expelled?"
"Of course I don't," Harry said.
"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge airily. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."
Fudge started to stroll out of the parlor, but I stopped him. "Can I have a separate room, in a different hotel, in a different country, on a different planet?" I asked, and Fudge sighed.
"Dream a little smaller," he said, walking off.
When Fudge came back he was accompanied by Tom the innkeeper. "Rooms eleven and seventeen are free," Fudge said. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand: I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."
"OK," Harry said slowly. "But why –?"
"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" Fudge said with a hearty laugh. "No, no ... best we know where you are ... I mean ..." Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak. "Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know."
"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked.
Fudge's fingers slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak. "What's that? Oh, you've heard – well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed ... and they are angrier than I've ever seen them," Fudge shuddered slightly. "So, I'll say goodbye." He held out his hand and Harry shook it.
"Er – Minister? Can I ask you something?" Harry asked.
"Certainly," Fudge smiled.
"Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could?"
Fudge was looking uncomfortable. "Ah," he said. "No. No, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian –"
"But you're the Minister for Magic," Harry said eagerly. "If you gave me permission –"
"No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," Fudge repeated flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it best if you don't ... yes ... well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry, Peyton."
And with that he was gone.
A/N - Wow, this part took like 4 days, and like 5650 words! I hope you guys enjoy part 1/2 of the summer, and Peyton's amazing bitchy attitude. Almost time for me to go back to school, only 3 days left. 😭😭😭😭😭 Happy ANZAC Day everyone for Tuesday. [If you are from Australia or New Zealand you will actually understand what I'm talking about, so bathe in your obliviousness Northern Hemisphereians.
Also, I would like to recommend/ shoutout a few people/ books for all you Harry Potter fans. If you love Peyton's snarkiness, check out chanwills0 on tiktok and youtube, as well as ailaughatmyownjokes on Insta, Youtube and Tiktok, and magicbymikaila on tiktok, and redheadbegins on tiktok. They are hilariously funny.
For books, I recommend All the Young Dudes, a fanfiction by MsKingBean89 about the Hogwarts and afterwards lives of the marauders from Remus Lupin's Point of View. You can find it on Archive of Our own. A huge section of this story uses it as inspiration, so I recommend it.
You don't have to look at these people, but they are amazing and they deserve credit for the effort and time they put in, so thank you to them. Thank you for all the support, how my story has over 600 views is insane to me, just insane! Thank you all so much. I will try to update as much as I can, but Ka Kite Ano (See you later)