Tory Potter and the Pathological Liar

Hogwarts Express

'Suspicious' was the first word that came to mind as I recalled the last month with the Dursleys.

Dudley was so scared of Harry and I, he refused to remain in the same room as us.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were half terrified and half furious at us. They chose to ignore our presence, as though we didn't exist. The treatment had its upsides. The two didn't force us into our cupboard, force us to do anything, or shout at us. On the downside, being treated as if you didn't exist got depressing.

Harry and I kept to our room, talking to our owls and each other if we ever got particularly lonely.

Harry decided to call his snowy owl Hedwig, a name he found in A History of Magic.

The two of us had been reading over our school books every day until late at night.

Our owls were free to come in and out as they pleased. Most of the time, they brought back dead mice or similar small varmints.

As Harry went to sleep each night, he ticked off a day on his little countdown sheet.

On the last day of August, the two of us decided to speak to Uncle Vernon about getting to King's Cross station the next day. We decided to do the good-cop-bad-cop routine as we went into the living room where the Dursleys were watching a quiz show on television.

Harry cleared his throat.

Dudley screamed in terror and fled from the room.

"Er - Uncle Vernon?" Harry began.
The beefy man grunted as if to let Harry know he heard him.

"Er - we need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to - to go to Hogwarts," Harry said.

Uncle Vernon grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave us a lift?" Harry continued.

The man grunted for a third time.

"Thank you," Harry said as he turned heel.

I was satisfied with the outcome and followed him to the stairs.

"Funny way to get to a wizard's school, the train," the man mused sarcastically, "Magic carpets all have punctures, have they?"

Harry and I didn't have anything to reply with.

"Where is this school, anyway?" Uncle Vernon questioned.

"I don't know," Harry realized before pulling his ticket from his pocket. "I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at 11 o'clock."

Our aunt and uncle stared blankly.

"Platform what?" Uncle Vernon eventually asked.

"Platform nine and three-quarters," I answered.

"Don't talk rubbish," the beefy man eventually snapped. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"It's on my ticket," Harry said defensively.

"Barking, howling mad the lot of them! You'll see. Just wait." He gave a nasty grin. "All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Got to get some last-minute school supplies before Dudley goes to Smeltings," Uncle Vernon answered.

With that, the conversation was over.

Harry and I retreated back to our room and remained there for most of the day.