Metanoia • Harry Potter • Book I

Chapter 3

Word Count: 3281

With every passing day that Harry spent locked away like a prisoner, the more Keziah's fury grew. Going to school was no better. Keziah quickly realised the grip Dudley and his stupid gang of bullies had on their Primary School. It was almost laughable how terrified everyone was. Since all Keziah's memories of Year Six had been positive, it shocked her to be shunned and treated like a flea-bitten stray. She scowled at the gaggle of girls who would stand around snickering at her clothes, full of holes and rips and five sizes too big. Keziah hadn't hated anyone before, but she certainly hated the Dursleys. They were so cruel it would be cartoonish if Keziah wasn't experiencing it first hand.

But she also saw other things. She saw how every girl who laughed at her suddenly had broken shoes and clothes full of rips. Magic, she'd guess with a pounding heart.

*

Keziah woke up with the same heavy heart she did every day. As usual, her eyes scanned the room, hoping they'd see her grey walls, covering in posters and bunting. But every day, she was disappointed. She desperately missed her family. She missed her mum, she missed Daniel with his stupid football obsession. Keziah sighed, wiping away the beginning of tears

It was already the summer holidays and she was desperate for some action. Life at the Dursleys reminded her of Dementors, soulless and soul-sucking. Thankfully, Harry had been released, so she wasn't completely alone. Keziah looked over at the window, where the sun was just beginning to peak over the rooftops. It was still far too early to get up but she couldn't get back to sleep.

Instead, Keziah stared at the grey school uniform that was lying, scrunched up in a pile at the foot of her mattress. The uniform for Stonewall High. She felt slightly relieved that Petunia had even bought her the uniform, second-hand, mind you. The dress code called for skirts, which meant Petunia couldn't subject her to Dudley's old clothes. Harry, however, didn't even get that luxury. It was a shame that she wouldn't wear the clothes anyway if Hogwarts didn't realise she was actually a muggle from an alternate universe. But, Keziah thought optimistically, at least she didn't have the wear the monstrosity that was Dudley's uniform. She and Harry had busted at least two ribs trying not to laugh at how ridiculous their cousin had looked.

Keziah sat in silence until the rest of the house woke up, wallowing in self-pity and nostalgia. Her bad mood was immediately erased, though, when she walked into the kitchen, along with Harry. It was replaced by anticipation, though she couldn't tell what for. A terrible smell burned at her nostrils, wafting from a large metal tin in the sink. She buried her nose in her shirt, leaning back into her chair. 

Vernon and Dudley entered the kitchen next, with the latter hitting everything with his stupid Smeltings stick. Keziah gritted her teeth, envisioning striking him right on the head with it. She settled for stabbing her sausages with extra vigour. They sat in tense silence for a few minutes, trying not to breathe in the smell of Harry's uniform. Then they heard the click of the letterbox and the soft thump of the mail. After a brief argument, Harry left to go collect it.

Keziah's heart quickened and breathing was suddenly way harder. Something was about to happen, she was sure of it. She craned her neck, trying to see why Harry was taking so long to return.

"What's the matter, boy? Looking for letter bombs?" Vernon chuckled. Keziah swore, dropping her spoon onto the floor with a clatter. Everyone in the room stared at her. She blushed and ducked under the table to grab the spoon, swearing under her breath. The Hogwarts letters would come today. 

She considered running out of the kitchen and tearing the letters away from Harry's grip but she figured that was a bad idea. It was too late anyway, as Harry re-entered the room, holding two thick yellow envelopes after he gave the Dursleys their things.