Harry Potter 12
Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't muchroom. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell."Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father.
"That's two less than last year."
"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one fromMommy and Daddy."
"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.
Harry, who couldsee a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast aspossible in case Dudley turned the table over. Aunt Petunia obviously scenteddanger, too, because she said quickly,
"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Twomore presents. Is that all right''16 Dudley thought for a moment. It lookedlike hard work.
Finally he saids lowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..."
"Thirty-nine,sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.
"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All rightthen."
Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy,Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.
At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernonwatched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote controlairplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off agold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking bothangry and worried.
"Bad news,Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't takehim." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.
Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley'sbirthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventureparks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behindwith Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated itthere. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look atphotographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.
"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this.Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but itwasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had tolook at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.
"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested. "Don't be silly, Vernon, shehates the boy."
The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there -- or rather, as thoughhe was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.
"What about what's-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?"
"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia. "You could just leave mehere," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted ontelevision for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).
Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. "And come back and find thehouse in ruins?" she snarled.
"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.
"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leavehim in the car...."
"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone...."
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