𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡.𝐩

𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 3, 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 2: Aunt Marge's Big Mistake

~ chapter two: aunt marge's big mistake ~

Y/N and I went down to breakfast the next morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. Dudley had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually.

As we sat down, far from wishing us a happy birthday, none of the Dursleys made any sign that they had noticed us enter the room, but we were far too used to this to care. We helped ourselves to pieces of toast and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict:

"...The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

"No need to tell us he's no good," snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!"

He shot a nasty look sideways at me, which I guess I shouldn't be too surprised about. My untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon, but there was nothing I could do. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, I felt very well groomed. 

The reporter had reappeared.

"The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today—"

"Hang on!" barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"

'He does know that Black would actually be sighted if he did that, right?' I thought annoyedly as Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. I knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hot line number. She was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on the boring, law-abiding neighbors. 

"When will they learn," said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"

"Very true," said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner beans. 

'She knows Black isn't going to be hiding in plain sight, right?'

Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten."

My thoughts had been upstairs with the Broomstick Servicing Kit when I was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump.

"Aunt Marge?" I blurted out. "Sh—she's not coming here, is she?"

Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of mine (my mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister) I had been forced to call her 'Aunt' for as long as I can remember. She lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in my mind.

At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked me around the shins with her walking stick to stop me from beating Dudley at musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for me. On her last visit, the year before I met Y/N and started at Hogwarts, I had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favorite dog. Ripper had chased me out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight. The memory of the incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes. I made eye contact with Y/N, trying to tell her mentally that Aunt Marge was exactly like the Dursleys without telling her out loud. Thankfully, she understood.