'Tell Me Pretty Lies,' by moongirlel

Chapter 1: Midnight Bus

[Family Line - Conan Gray]

༺ 𓆙 ༻
3rd Year
Mon. 30th August 1993 - 7:26pm...

Dinner was quiet.

It was too quiet until Marge opened her big mouth, and began to speak a whole pile of nonsense about her dog, her house, and how her nephew was spectacular.

Dudley became the main topic of conversation multiple times.

A bit of this and that - Talking loads about quite frankly, nothing at all.

Multiple eye rolls were shared between Harry and I.

Furthermore, many more irritated looks followed after, whenever our family wasn't paying attention to us too.

Most of the dinner, that was - I'll add.

"Where did you send these two brats, Vernon?" Marge asked, her face stuffed full with chicken. She didn't once pick up a fork the whole meal.

She ate like a disgusting pig.

"Uh-"

"The public schools, up the road. The cheap ones." Petunia answered for him, passing a bowl of vegetables towards her son.

"Good. I hope you two are getting shown the cane, alright." Marge tuts, lifting her wine glass, chugging it down her throat. "Ah, I'm sure you're finding it hard avoiding any unwanted male attention, Jean?" She asked, staring at me.

"Jane. My name is Jane." I say, trying my best to keep down my food as I watch her eat.

"Jean sounds better. If you were my daughter - And I'm certainly glad you're not - Jean would be your name. Jane is too pretty and youthful for..."

"For?" Harry stabbed his fork into his last potato.

Never mind my name, I was still pondering silently over the question.

"Well, you know." Marge laughed, turning her head towards Vernon, who held his chest and chuckled.

Inconsiderate git.

"That we do, Marge." He chucked his napkin down onto his plate, piling their plates up. With his hand, he ushered us away from the table.

I stood, taking my final bite of food.

Harry picked up the dirty plates, and we both walked over to the sink.

"She has a horrible resemblance to your wicked sister, Petunia. Those eyes? And that bright hair?" Marge groaned, "And that boy... Scarily like his father. No wonder their parents died in that car crash, good riddance. A slut and a drunk, no doubt."

"Our mother was not a slut-!"
"Our father was not a drunk-!"
We found ourselves arguing back.

"My, my... And they have an attitude problem too!"

Vernon glared daggers in our direction, subtly shaking his head.

"How dare you speak about me and my sister that way! You didn't even know our parents! You never even bothered with them!" Harry raised his hand, pointing at Marge. "I could stand here and list of all the reasons you're unsightly and arrogant, but I don't!"