Birthdays and Aunt Marge

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    "Happy Birthday, Harry!" June smiled happily as Harry came into their room from downstairs.

    It was Harry's birthday, meaning that there was only one more month of this place. Harry looked at her in surprise.

  "Where did you get that cupcake from?" Harry asked confused.

  June was holding a cupcake with a candle on it, in red and gold frosting wrote HP.

  "Baked it last night, it's Gryffindor themed!" she said, holding out the cupcake towards him.

  Harry took it and studied it. Her designs on that little surface were impeccable.

  "You're really good! When did you learn how to do that?" Harry asked.

  June thought about that, how long had she been baking, and how long had she been designing her baked goods. Wasn't the first time she baked when she was six, yeah it was. But who taught her? Alex. Alex Swan. June remembered Alex, she was like a big sister to her, the Foster System she was in liked to put the younger kids with older kids, and Alex was her 'foster partner' or something.

  Alex taught her how to bake. One day in a foster family's kitchen Alex was making brownies and June asked to help. Alex did more than teach her, she showed her how to do more than just follow instructions, she showed her to put love into her creations. She showed her how to be creative with the things she does.

  I miss you, Alex, June thought to herself.

  "When I was six. Someone I looked up to teach me." June told him in an almost sad voice.

  "Well, the frosting is really good!" He complimented, pulling his finger out of his mouth.

  "Well stop taste-testing it, and eat it!" June said happily smiling as her lips formed around her words.

  Harry blew out the single candle and took a bite out of the cupcake. His face lit up immediately.

  "Merlin! This is really good, June."

  "Really? I made it chocolate, I didn't know if you liked chocolate, I just thought you did because I like chocolate like I really love chocolate, and now I'm rambling about if you like chocolate or not, this is stupid isn't -"

  "June, I like both flavours. And yes, that ramble was stupid." he teased, giggling.

  June rolled her eyes "Shut it." she laughed.


  The next morning Harry and June went down to breakfast to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a show on their brand-new television, which was 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. It almost made June choke him out. 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.

  June sat down beside Aunt Petunia, a thin woman, who was very nosey. None of the Dursleys wished Harry a happy birthday, they didn't even seem to notice that Harry and he had entered the room. Harry didn't care but June was silently fuming. June knew better than to yell at the Dursleys or even talk to them with a tone, as much as she wanted to scream that it was Harry's birthday, she didn't. June helped herself to some toast and listened to the newsreader 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 hotline 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 Harry, whose untidy hair had always source of annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Vernon's eyes glared at June and Harry's bedhead hair, it was so untidy.

  The newsreader had reappeared.

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

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

  Aunt Petunia whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. June knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hotline number. She was the noisiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on her boring, law-abiding neighbours.

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

  Hanging People? June stumbled on her thought.

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

  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."

  "Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "She's not coming here, is she?"

  "Who's Aunt Marge?" June questioned, quietly.

  "Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, startling June, "and while we're on the subject," he pointed a fat finger threateningly at June and Harry, "we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."

  Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching Harry being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudley's favourite form of entertainment.

  "Firstly," growled Uncle Vernon, "the both of you will keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge."

  "All right," said Harry bitterly, "if she does when she talking to us."

  "Secondly," said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harry's reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any - any funny stuff while she's here. You both behave yourselves, got me?"

  June nodded.

  "I will if she does," said Harry through gritted teeth.

  "And thirdly," said Uncle Vernon, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, "we've told her that you attend St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. And you girl, you attend Miss Rosalyn's School for Improper Girls."

  June nodded and repeated the school's name in her head multiple times.

  "What?" Harry yelled.

  "And you'll be sticking to that story, boy, or there'll be trouble," spat Uncle Vernon.

  Harry sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. June concentrated on her school's name.

  "Well, Petunia," said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet. "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?"

  "No," said Dudley, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Vernon had finished threatening Harry.

  "Duddy's got to make himself smart for his auntie," said Aunt Petunia, smoothing Dudley's thick blond hair.

  That be hard, he'll need to read eight years of school books, June thought.

  "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bow tie."

  Uncle Vernon clapped Dudley on his porky shoulder

  "See you in a bit, then," he said, and he left the kitchen.

  Harry, who had been sitting in a kind of horrified trance, had a sudden idea. Abandoning his toast, he got quickly to his feet and followed Uncle Vernon to the front door, June didn't think about it, he was probably just going to their room.

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