Book 2: Birthday for the ages... hopefully for just one of them

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I'm back... for now. Sorry I've been so busy the last year/two years and now in Uni so expect slow updates. Can't wait to rewrite my favourite HP book though.


SLAM.


The door slammed open against their bedroom wall, their owls shrieking in the cage at the loud noise and shaking [Name] awake in a chokehold as she scrambled up from her sheets. Disoriented and panicked, her sheets practically tied knots around her ankles.


Harry was in a similar position, pulling himself up with a groan from his own bed. Milk snuggly neatly under his arm.


"UP, UP, I'm up!"


She stood to attention before realizing where she was. Not a military training camp where she would be royally slaughtered for sleeping overtime but at the Dursley's house, in their cramped measly little bedroom.


Initially, it came with one rickety bed but after a lot of persuasion and sweet-talking, Uncle Vernon dragged in an old and a rather stale-smelling mattress. Not a bed, but beggars can't be choosers. It was a miracle they had even considered the request at all but Aunt Petunia had actually insisted; saying she was a "growing girl" and that she would need it in case an "accident" occurred. [Name] had no idea what she was on about but excepted it with open arms. So now she slept on the floor mattress while her brother took the bed, liking how it kept her considerately cooler, especially during summer heatwaves.


And speaking of the Dursleys, there was Uncle Vernon, standing in the doorway in his blue and white striped pyjamas. He looked furious, his hairy eyebrows accentuating his downcasted face.


"Downstairs, now. Breakfast." He grumbled. Wow, what a lovely wake-up call, which he finalised with another slam of the door shut.


[Name] glanced at her cracked watch and winced at the time, almost feeling the tiredness collect underneath his eyes. No wonder he was mad, it was too early for the day to even think about beginning.


Naturally, an arguement ensued at breakfast, though not the first time an arguement broke out at number four, Privet Drive.


Mr Vernon Dursley was roaring at the twins from across the table for being woken in the early hours of the morning by the loud hoots and shrills coming from their room.


[Name] was tuning him out as Harry tried to explain again the problem would be resolved if he would let the owls out at night. Trinket was itching to forage for new items and Hedwig to glide through the wind but Uncle Vernon was frustratingly stubborn.


She scrunched up her nose as Dudley drowned out their words with a loud, long belch. "I want more bacon."


The temptation to declare her dominance with an even louder and longer belch was painful to ignore. She somehow managed, though the grip on her fork and knife was very heavy-handed. Instead, her face scrunched up, and if she had known any better, it would have looked like she was constipated.


"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning her misty eyes on her son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance... I don't like the sound of that school food..."

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