And so several months went by, as the Dursleys slowly tried to adjust their lives to work around the new child that had been placed into their perfect family, and was bout to ruin their lives.
It was around 2 years later when they begun to realise this...
Harry's first day at Nursery. It came sooner than Petunia and Vernon had hoped. Petunia, who was pushing Dudley down the road in his little pram held a look of horror and disgust on her face as she walked on the foot-path, heels clicking, trying ever so hard to ignore her nephew as he ran along, tapping her leg, trying to get her attention.
"Silly little boy." She repeatedly tutted, tapping her hand on the handle of the buggy, allowing it to make the same contact that an impatient foot would with the floor. She shook her head as he tried again, and again, and again.
When Petunia had reached the old brick building she walked in and sat Dudley on the floor, by a group of boys who waved at him. She then smiled and spoke to him.
"Now, Duddy, have a lovely day, won't you dear?"
The boy nodded, smiling at his mum as his fat cheeks resembled that of a chipmunks at this particular moment. She kissed his wrinkled forehead, before then ran of, causing sounds from his footsteps to echo around the room.
Petunia then turned a very strict-looking face to Harry, who was tracing his hand along the walls in the entrance.
One of the nursery assistants walked passed.
"Oh, hello Mrs. Dursley! This must be Harry, your husband rang about him."
"Yes, I know," Petunia gulped adjusting her neck to be even longer then usual (if it even seemed possible).
"He doesn't look nearly as harmful as described on the phone!"
She walked over to Harry, and ruffled his black hair. Petunia fidgeted uncomfortably.
"Oh, well, I'm sure he's completely fine. He'll probably get along with some of the other kids here, they're all a bit odd at times."
"Well, I advise you to keep a close eye on this one, but otherwise, do as you please."
"He surely cannot be that bad, can he?"
"Well, unless you want your skin turning blue, children's hair being set on fire or even the building blocks to talk, then I suggest you do as I tell you, and keep a watchful eye over him!"
"Oh come on, Mrs. Dursley, no one can make building blocks, that is magic!"
Almost at once, Petunia pushed Dudley's push-chair over to one side and stormed out of the building, down the streets and all the way home. Without even saying hello to old Mrs. Figg who was mowing her lawn.