The Golden Girls (HOO, HP, TKC) Part I

Chapter 9 - Pigs and Inflated Aunts

Cece's POV

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Vernon," Marge said over lunch on the third day. "If there's something rotten on the inside, there's nothing anyone can do about it."

Harry tried to concentrate on his food, but his hands shook and his face was starting to burn with anger. Oh, Harry! Please don't get angry, remember about the form!

Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine.

"It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup --"

At that moment, the wineglass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.

"Marge!" squealed Aunt Petunia. "Marge, are you all right?"

"Not to worry," grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip..."

But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry suspiciously.

Harry left the hall as soon as possible. I followed. I closed the door silently.

"Harry! The form! Please, don't do that again, I couldn't bear to go to Hogsmeade without you!" I whisper/pleaded.

"She is just so horrible! She enjoys bullying me!" He said. I just sighed.

---Two Day Lapse (A/N Is that even a thing?)---

"Can I tempt you, Marge?"

Aunt Marge had already had quite a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red.

"Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that . . . and a bit more . . . that's the ticket."

Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie. That pig.

Aunt Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. Harry looked like he really wanted to disappear into his bedroom, but he met Uncle Vernon's angry little eyes and I knew he would have to sit it out.

"Aah," said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after. . . ." She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach.

"Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at the pig-boy they call Dudley Dursley.

"You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon."

"Now, this one here -"

She jerked her head at Harry.

"This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred."

Harry looked like he was going to whack Marge in the head if this continued.

"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia" - she patted Aunt Petunia's bony hand with her shovel-like one - "but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."

Damn. She's so rude.

"This Potter," said Aunt Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "you never told me what he did?"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were looking extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie (for the first time in his life, I'm guessing) to gape at his parents.

"He - didn't work," said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry. "Unemployed."

"As I expected!" said Aunt Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who -"

"He was not," said Harry suddenly. The table went very quiet. Harry was shaking all over. He had probably never felt so angry in his life.

"MORE BRANDY!" yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Marge's glass. "You, boy," he snarled at Harry. "Go to bed, go on -"

"No, Vernon," said Aunt Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny eyes fixed on Harry's. "Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) -"

"They didn't die in a car crash!" said Harry, who sprang to his feet.

"They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!" screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury. "You are an insolent, ungrateful little -"

But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with strange anger - but the swelling didn't stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech - next second, several buttons had just burst from her jacket - she was inflating like a monstrosity of a balloon, her stomach bursting free of her waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like ham -

"MARGE!" yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marge's whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making weird popping noises. This is extremely funny! Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.

"NOOOOOOO!"

Uncle Vernon seized one of Marge's feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. I would've paid to see that! A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernon's leg.

"Cece, let's go!" Harry whispered. I took off the invisibility cloak and ran for it, following Harry up the stairs. We gathered up our stuff, and bolted to the front door.

"COME BACK HERE! COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!" Uncle Vernon shouted, having already burst out of the dining room in fury.

Harry pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon.

"She deserved it. She deserved what she got. You keep away from me and my sister." He said.

He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door.

"We're going. We've had enough." I said.

And then, there we were, out in the dark, dark night.

--Time Lapse--

"You're Harry's sister? No way!" Rose said. I had already told Ron, Hermione, and now Rose about how Cece Potter was actually alive and in front of them...

Rose and I became immediate friends.

Crash!

We looked for the source of the sound. There was a girl with dark, wavy hair, and a girl I can vaguely recognize...

And one of them had broken her nose, and the other one had broken her arm, but I turned and kept talking.

"No way. Is that-? It can't be. Cece?" I spun around at the mention of my name. I gasped. I teared up.

"June! I missed you so much!" We hugged, and when we broke apart, everyone was looking at us, confused.

"I guess you deserve an explanation. Paris, because you're the only one that doesn't know her, meet my best friend from Wilderness School, Cece White." June said to dark curls.

"Um, actually, I found my brother." I said, and one-arm-hugged Harry, who smiled at me.

"I'm Cece Potter, sister of the Boy Who Lived."