Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Let's Try That Again, Shall We?
The Harry Potter universe is the creation of J.K. Rowling. This is fanfiction. The standard disclaimers apply.
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Chapter 5: Harry
Sunday, June 17, 1990, 1:07 PM. Little Whinging, Surrey.
Harry Potter was pulling dandelions out of his Aunt Petunia's flower beds. Everything that happened in the Dursley's yard for the past few years had been done by Harry—planting, watering, weeding, mowing, fertilizing, raking . . . He didn't really mind it, at least when the weather was nice. This spring, his aunt had bought four dozen pink petunias, which Harry had dutifully taken care of. He tried to be nice to the plants; it wasn't their fault they shared a name with his aunt.
"That yard looks like it took a lot of work."
Harry turned around to see a girl, maybe a few years older than himself, with pink streaks in her hair. She was smiling at him, which neighbors generally didn't. Most of them had heard terrible things about him from the Dursleys, or in the case of anyone his own age, had been driven off by Dudley and his gang. Usually when anyone looked genuinely happy to see him, they were strangers, and Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon would grab him at that point and try to get Harry away from the person as quickly as they could. That had always been in a public place, not in front of his house.
"Thanks." He said, nervously. "It did, I guess. Take a lot of work."
"Did you do it all yourself?"
"Yeah."
"So was it you who decided to plant all those pink flowers, then?" She looked like she might be teasing him. Okay, that was more familiar.
"No, that was my aunt. They're petunias—she's named 'Petunia'".
"Oh, that sounded like teasing, didn't it. Sorry Harry, I didn't really think you'd plant those on purpose. Um, by choice, I mean."
"How do you know my name?"
"Crap. This isn't going well. It's a long story?" She looked at him hopefully.
"Uh, that's okay, I guess." Then he frowned and looked down to the end of the street, watching his cousin Dudley and some other boy, probably Piers Polkiss, coming towards them. Dudley would probably try to convince this girl to stop talking to him. Maybe Harry could make her go away before Dudley got a chance—no, it was too late, Dudley was already pointing at her.
"You should probably go."
"Oh, your cousin's coming. Don't worry, I'll be fine." She gave a smile clearly meant to be reassuring.
"No, I mean, uh . . ."
"And I'm not going to run away because of him, either. They're still a few houses away and can't hear us. I'm Dora, by the way. It's nice to meet you. Sorry I'm so god-awful awkward sometimes. Do you have to stick around here right now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we could go for a walk and get away from your cousin. Or we could wait and see what he does."
"I'm sorry, I don't really know you. You should really go before he gets here. He's not very nice. I mean, he's not going to be nice to me if he sees me talking to you."
"But, he's already seen that..." she looked confused.
The fact that Dudley hadn't yelled at him or anything yet was a good sign. He actually looked cautious. Without saying anything, Dudley and Piers just hurried on through the front door, after Dudley gave Harry his best "I'm going to get you in trouble, now!" look.
A moment later Vernon Dursley yanked the door open, looked from Harry to the girl and back, and said "Boy! What are you doing? Get back to work!" And then, to the girl, "I'm sorry if the little freak has been bothering you. We've tried to teach him manners, but you know how it is with boys these days. Not like Dudley here!" he said, patting his son on the head as he peered out from behind Vernon.
"That's quite alright. Mr. Dursley, could I come in and speak to you for a few minutes in private, while your nephew here stays in the yard?"
That got some puzzled looks. "Are you selling something? What ever it is, we don't want any."
"No, no, it's about Harry, and I don't think you'd want me to say it where the neighbors might hear."
Vernon went pale. "Well, don't just stand about, get in here before anyone notices. Petunia, get down here! Piers, you take Dudley with you and run along home. Do it NOW, and don't talk to Harry on the way. I'll come pick you up later."
This was too unexpected for Harry to do anything, and in a moment he was left outside wondering what had just happened. The girl had looked about twelve, and seemed awkward enough when talking to Harry, but she showed absolutely no fear of Dudley or Uncle Vernon, and her expression when she saw them looked almost angry or even predatory. Harry couldn't hear anything from where he was. Vernon had locked the door after letting Dora in, and had then gone around and shut all the windows for good measure.
Harry ran to the door and put his ear up to it. It was Dora's voice, but she seemed older somehow.
". . . more monitoring charms than your prime minister's office, and you wouldn't want the neighbors seeing everyone who would show up if I had to defend myself. So forget it. Just because nobody bothered checking on Harry until now doesn't mean you can keep treating him like this, because . . ." Her voice went to a whisper, and Harry strained to hear.
"so much as . . . personally . . ." Harry had never wanted to overhear a conversation so much in his life. It sounded like this girl he just met had walked in and started threatening his aunt and uncle, and she was whispering to keep him from hearing. Why?
Then, brightly: "Okay? Now, you can tell Harry the truth now, or you can refuse to talk about it, but he's going to learn it from me or another one of us regardless of what you do. Oh, and don't try running away and hiding. I'm good at finding people. Um, I think that's it for now." Footsteps coming to the door! Harry ran back to the flower bed and pretended to be pulling dandelions.
The door opened, and Dora came out, turning back inside and waving, with a smile on her face that Harry found downright scary. "Cheers!"
"Wotcher, Harry! That was more fun than I've had . . . sorry—you don't know what this is about yet. I think I scared your aunt and uncle into behaving for a while. I need to get going—actually to do some stuff before my parents wonder where I went—but I'll come back to check on you, probably tomorrow. And I'll explain anything your relatives didn't. I doubt they'll feel like speaking to you, though."
Harry's eyes were big. He had no idea what had just happened. It certainly looked like his life might be about to get better.
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Chapter 5: Harry
Sunday, June 17, 1990, 1:07 PM. Little Whinging, Surrey.
Harry Potter was pulling dandelions out of his Aunt Petunia's flower beds. Everything that happened in the Dursley's yard for the past few years had been done by Harry—planting, watering, weeding, mowing, fertilizing, raking . . . He didn't really mind it, at least when the weather was nice. This spring, his aunt had bought four dozen pink petunias, which Harry had dutifully taken care of. He tried to be nice to the plants; it wasn't their fault they shared a name with his aunt.
"That yard looks like it took a lot of work."
Harry turned around to see a girl, maybe a few years older than himself, with pink streaks in her hair. She was smiling at him, which neighbors generally didn't. Most of them had heard terrible things about him from the Dursleys, or in the case of anyone his own age, had been driven off by Dudley and his gang. Usually when anyone looked genuinely happy to see him, they were strangers, and Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon would grab him at that point and try to get Harry away from the person as quickly as they could. That had always been in a public place, not in front of his house.
"Thanks." He said, nervously. "It did, I guess. Take a lot of work."
"Did you do it all yourself?"
"Yeah."
"So was it you who decided to plant all those pink flowers, then?" She looked like she might be teasing him. Okay, that was more familiar.
"No, that was my aunt. They're petunias—she's named 'Petunia'".
"Oh, that sounded like teasing, didn't it. Sorry Harry, I didn't really think you'd plant those on purpose. Um, by choice, I mean."
"How do you know my name?"
"Crap. This isn't going well. It's a long story?" She looked at him hopefully.
"Uh, that's okay, I guess." Then he frowned and looked down to the end of the street, watching his cousin Dudley and some other boy, probably Piers Polkiss, coming towards them. Dudley would probably try to convince this girl to stop talking to him. Maybe Harry could make her go away before Dudley got a chance—no, it was too late, Dudley was already pointing at her.
"You should probably go."
"Oh, your cousin's coming. Don't worry, I'll be fine." She gave a smile clearly meant to be reassuring.
"No, I mean, uh . . ."
"And I'm not going to run away because of him, either. They're still a few houses away and can't hear us. I'm Dora, by the way. It's nice to meet you. Sorry I'm so god-awful awkward sometimes. Do you have to stick around here right now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we could go for a walk and get away from your cousin. Or we could wait and see what he does."
"I'm sorry, I don't really know you. You should really go before he gets here. He's not very nice. I mean, he's not going to be nice to me if he sees me talking to you."
"But, he's already seen that..." she looked confused.
The fact that Dudley hadn't yelled at him or anything yet was a good sign. He actually looked cautious. Without saying anything, Dudley and Piers just hurried on through the front door, after Dudley gave Harry his best "I'm going to get you in trouble, now!" look.
A moment later Vernon Dursley yanked the door open, looked from Harry to the girl and back, and said "Boy! What are you doing? Get back to work!" And then, to the girl, "I'm sorry if the little freak has been bothering you. We've tried to teach him manners, but you know how it is with boys these days. Not like Dudley here!" he said, patting his son on the head as he peered out from behind Vernon.
"That's quite alright. Mr. Dursley, could I come in and speak to you for a few minutes in private, while your nephew here stays in the yard?"
That got some puzzled looks. "Are you selling something? What ever it is, we don't want any."
"No, no, it's about Harry, and I don't think you'd want me to say it where the neighbors might hear."
Vernon went pale. "Well, don't just stand about, get in here before anyone notices. Petunia, get down here! Piers, you take Dudley with you and run along home. Do it NOW, and don't talk to Harry on the way. I'll come pick you up later."
This was too unexpected for Harry to do anything, and in a moment he was left outside wondering what had just happened. The girl had looked about twelve, and seemed awkward enough when talking to Harry, but she showed absolutely no fear of Dudley or Uncle Vernon, and her expression when she saw them looked almost angry or even predatory. Harry couldn't hear anything from where he was. Vernon had locked the door after letting Dora in, and had then gone around and shut all the windows for good measure.
Harry ran to the door and put his ear up to it. It was Dora's voice, but she seemed older somehow.
". . . more monitoring charms than your prime minister's office, and you wouldn't want the neighbors seeing everyone who would show up if I had to defend myself. So forget it. Just because nobody bothered checking on Harry until now doesn't mean you can keep treating him like this, because . . ." Her voice went to a whisper, and Harry strained to hear.
"so much as . . . personally . . ." Harry had never wanted to overhear a conversation so much in his life. It sounded like this girl he just met had walked in and started threatening his aunt and uncle, and she was whispering to keep him from hearing. Why?
Then, brightly: "Okay? Now, you can tell Harry the truth now, or you can refuse to talk about it, but he's going to learn it from me or another one of us regardless of what you do. Oh, and don't try running away and hiding. I'm good at finding people. Um, I think that's it for now." Footsteps coming to the door! Harry ran back to the flower bed and pretended to be pulling dandelions.
The door opened, and Dora came out, turning back inside and waving, with a smile on her face that Harry found downright scary. "Cheers!"
"Wotcher, Harry! That was more fun than I've had . . . sorry—you don't know what this is about yet. I think I scared your aunt and uncle into behaving for a while. I need to get going—actually to do some stuff before my parents wonder where I went—but I'll come back to check on you, probably tomorrow. And I'll explain anything your relatives didn't. I doubt they'll feel like speaking to you, though."
Harry's eyes were big. He had no idea what had just happened. It certainly looked like his life might be about to get better.
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