Harry Potter and the Misunderstanding

CHAPTER 1

Dudley was too excited to eat. Harry couldn't believe it. He kept sneaking glances at his cousin, as well as at the untouched food on his plate, and wondering if maybe it was an optical illusion. Dudley Dursley was never without his appetite.

Harry did not fully understand why his cousin might be so excited either. Yes, for his birthday, his parents - Harry's aunt and uncle - were taking him to a theme park, and Harry, who was not to be accompanying them, would have given his left arm to go too.
But Dudley always got everything he wanted, usually before he even knew that he wanted it.And this time, Harry's aunt and uncle had provided a treat before their over-indulged son had had the temerity to demand it.
As a result, perhaps it was understandable that Dudley was rarely excited at the prospect of anything that he had not already asked for.

Harry continued on with his meagre breakfast. Maybe if Dudley really didn't finish his own meal, Harry could eat it instead. He wasn't counting on it though. Harry had never seen a single crumb left on his cousin's plate. Usually, Dudley was on his third or fourth helping while Harry was still blowing on his third mouthful.

Dudley may have been ready to wet himself in his anxiety to get going that morning, but Harry was somewhat less enthusiastic. After all, he wasn't invited. Not that this his absence from the celebrations was a new development: every year, on Dudley's birthday, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon dropped Harry off at old Mrs Figg's house, over the way from Magnolia Crescent, where he watched the telly and listened to her talk about her cats all day. This Friday, Harry would be staying at Mrs Figg's for the duration of the week. He would leave her house for school every day until the next Monday, and the Dursleys would be home by the time school broke up.

Aunt Petunia, a thin, sharp-faced woman, was fluttering about the kitchen, muttering to herself. She snapped her head up to look at Harry.
"Boy, what did you do with the passports?"
Harry held up both hands and shook his head: he was chewing and could not answer. Aunt Petunia glared at him before resuming her search. In one sense, Harry thought it would be hysterical if they couldn't find the passports and had to stay home.
However, even at ten years old, Harry knew that life was a lot easier when the Dursleys were happy, particularly Dudley. Revenge would not serve him well.

Petunia gave a gasp of relief when she spotted the passports on top of the microwave and Harry used this distraction to finish Dudley's untouched breakfast, reaching for a piece of fried potato on his plate.

Harry knew that Dudley would have eaten ground glass had Harry expressed an interest in doing so himself, and he had contemplated pulling that particular stunt one or two times while locked away in his cupboard after Dudley had got him into trouble for something.
Harry had, unconsciously, learned how to apply such tricks of reverse psychology from a very young age.

***

Uncle Vernon's car was loaded and the Dursleys were ready to go. Somehow, the luggage had been packed in so tightly that there was only room for one passenger in the back. It was decided that Harry could walk down the road to Mrs Figg's house, which didn't bother him very much as it meant that he would be rid of his relatives all that much sooner.

They drove away without a backward glance, although Dudley stuck his tongue out at Harry as the car was backing down the driveway ahead of him.

Harry hoisted his duffel bag of clothing up onto his shoulder and set off for the cattery where he was to spend his week.