𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 ✓

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

"Up! Get up! Now!" A shrill voice echoed through the house. I woke up. Oh dear God, not again. It was Mum, screaming at Harry.

"What day is it?" I muttered as I looked at the calendar. Holy lemons - it's my birthday!

"Up!" Mum screeched. I heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. I yawned once again before hurrying to the bathroom to find my outfit.

I hurried down the stairs wearing the yellow summer dress Aunt Marge sent for me. Mum was again standing in front of Harry's closet.

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy and Didi's birthday."

Harry groaned.

"What did you say?" Mum snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..."

Mum looked up to see me. "There's the birthday girl!" she exclaimed as she hugged me. "Happy birthday darling!"

"Thanks, Mum," I said as Mum dragged me to the kitchen.

The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. That was exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to me, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise — unless of course, it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look at it, but he was very fast.

That minute, Harry entered the kitchen. I waved a little to him and he smiled back. Mum and Dad always said not to get too friendly with him, but Harry and I were close. He was one of the only friends I had. The only friend I have.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

Dad entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. About once a week, Dad looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way — all over the place.

"There's the birthday girl!" Dad said as he hurried up to hug me as he sat down.

"Aw thank you, Dad," I said.

"The books you asked for, Diane," Dad said as he handed me a stack of books.

"Dad, this is awesome thank you!" I said as I hurried to kiss Dad on the cheek. I'm not like Dudley - I prefer books.