The Tale of Two Enemies

Chapter Ten

Ron stood outside number four Privet Drive.

He grimaced as he recalled the time not too long ago when Fred, George and him had broken Harry free of the bars on his window.

He didn't particularly want to have to face Harry's grumpy, controlling, overbearing uncle, but what other choice did he have really?

But what if the man remembered him from all those years ago?

Ron cringed as he made his way up the driveway towards the house that emulated every other house on the street. He stood before the front door, wondering if it was too late to back out now.

He supposed it was.

Besides if he returned home with no Harry Potter in tow, his mother would just send him back here again and he'd be back to square one. Ron sighed as he gently tapped his knuckles against the wooden front door. The faint echo of the television, followed by an erratic eruption of laughter greeted his ears. Ron stood there for a few seconds, seconds which then turned into minutes. By now he was assuming no one had heard his initial knock.

Good, well, at least now he can say he tried.

Ron turned on his heel, about to take his first step away from the house when the front door flew open.

"See Petunia! I told you I heard someone knocking at the door!" Vernon yelled as though he wanted the entire street to hear that he was right.

"Well, who is it? Is it Marge?" Petunia's voice escaped from deep within the house.

"No, it's a redheaded boy!" Vernon yelled back as the vein in his temple began to visibly throb.

Ron winced as he felt the eyes of Harry's uncle's run over him, as though trying to figure out if the boy was familiar to him or not.

"He must be one of Dudder's friends." A smile suddenly grew on Vernon's lips as he prepared to call out to his precious son.

"No ah, I'm actually here to see Harry Potter." Ron audibly gulped as he released the words from his lips.

"Oh, I see." The man stated, the smile shattering from his lips as his eyes adopted a new, yet painfully familiar gaze, one that echoed a mixture of condescension and revulsion.

Ron's heart pounded in his chest, yet he was relieved that the man didn't seem to recognize him, then again, it had been dark when they broke Harry from his room that time.

"Your house is nice." Ron offered, attempting in vain to diffuse the awkward tension between the two.

"Thanks." Vernon stated flatly, his voice cold as it retained its hostility. He obviously didn't value the opinion of any acquaintances of his nephew.

*~.~*

Harry lay curled up on his bed, there was nothing pleasurable about holidays spent at the Dursley household. He sighed as he reached for his potions book. He might as well get a head start, it's not as though he had anything better to do.

The young wizard sighed as he lazily turned the pages of the book, his mind adrift as his thoughts returned to Hogwarts. He was willing to bet that Snape would never expect him to be actually looking at this book in class, let alone in his so called 'holidays'.

Harry felt his heart almost flutter at the thought of the man he had despised all these years.

He suddenly sat up straight, what was that?

What on Earth was wrong with him?

Harry screwed up his face as he attempted to figure out a plausible explanation for what just happened.