Y/n Potter and the Wizarding World

The Burrow And Wizard Wheezes

By twelve o'clock the next day, Y/n and Harry’s school trunks were packed
with their school things and all his most prized possessions the Invisibility Cloak they had inherited from their father, the broomstick Y/n had gotten from Sirius, the enchanted map of Hogwarts he had been given by Fred and George Weasley last year. Harry had emptied his hiding place under the loose floorboard of all food, double checked every nook and cranny of their bedroom for forgotten spellbooks or quills, and taken down the chart on the wall counting down the days to September the first, on which Harry liked to cross off the days remaining until his return to Hogwarts.

The atmosphere inside number four, Privet Drive was extremely tense. The imminent arrival at their house of an assortment of wizards was making the Dursleys uptight and irritable. Uncle Vernon had looked downright alarmed when Harry informed him that the Weasleys would be arriving at five o’clock the very next day.

Vernon: I hope you told them to dress properly, these people

He snarled at once.

Y/n: Oh give it a rest.

Vernon: I’ve seen the sort of stuff your lot wear. They’d better have the decency to put on normal clothes, that’s all.

Y/n: Well your not exactly normal either.

Harry felt a slight sense of foreboding. He had rarely seen Mr. or Mrs. Weasley wearing anything that the Dursleys would call “normal.” Their children might don Muggle clothing during the holidays, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley usually wore long robes in varying states of shabbiness. Y/n and Harry wasn't bothered about what the neighbors would think, but Harry was anxious about how rude the Dursleys
might be to the Weasleys if they turned up looking like their worst idea of wizards.

Uncle Vernon had put on his best suit. To some people, this might have looked like a gesture of welcome, but Harry knew it
was because Uncle Vernon wanted to look impressive and intimidating. Dudley, on the other hand, looked somehow diminished.
This was not because the diet was at last taking effect, but due to fright. Dudley had emerged from his last encounter with a fully grown wizard with a curly pig’s tail poking out of the seat of his trousers, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had had to pay for its removal at a private hospital in London. It wasn’t altogether surprising, therefore, that Dudley kept running his hand nervously over his backside, and walking sideways from room to room, so as
not to present the same target to the enemy.

Lunch was an almost silent meal. Dudley didn’t even protest at the food cottage cheese and grated celery. Aunt Petunia wasn’t eating anything at all. Her arms were folded, her lips were pursed,
and she seemed to be chewing her tongue, as though biting back the furious diatribe she longed to throw at the twins.

They’ll be driving, of course?

Uncle Vernon barked across the
table.

Harry: Er

Said Harry, he hadn’t thought of that.

Y/n: Doubt it, it got impounded.....

How were the Weasleys going to pick them up? They didn’t have a car anymore. But Mr. Weasley had borrowed a Ministry of
Magic car last year possibly he would do the same today?  Uncle Vernon snorted into his mustache. Normally, Uncle Vernon would have asked what car Mr. Weasley drove he tended to judge other men by how big and expensive their cars were. But they doubted whether Uncle Vernon would have taken to Mr. Weasley even if he drove a Ferrari.

The boys spent most of the afternoon in their bedroom as they couldn’t stand watching Aunt Petunia peer out through the net curtains every few seconds, as though there had been a warning about an
escaped rhinoceros. Finally, at a quarter to five, they went back downstairs and into the living room. Aunt Petunia was compulsively straightening cushions. Uncle Vernon was pretending to read the paper, but his tiny eyes were not moving, and Harry was sure he was really listening with all his might for the sound of an approaching car. Dudley was crammed into an armchair, his porky hands beneath him, clamped firmly
around his bottom. Y/n couldn’t take the tension he left the room and went and sat on the stairs in the hall, but five o’clock came and then went. Uncle Vernon, perspiring slightly in his suit, opened the front door, peered up and down the
street, then withdrew his head quickly.