Monday 21st February
After half term, Hagrid seemed to have regained some of his confidence. The first Monday back, Hagrid had something other than flobberworms for the class. He met the class with a number of wooden crates on the ground next to him.
Judging by the occasional scratch or scraping sound emanating from these crates, there was definitely something other than flobberworms in them.
"Righ' then, gather round. I got a real treat for y'today. Who can tell me what these are?" Hagrid opened one of the crates and pulled out what looked to Harry like a dragon kit.
Hermione's hand shot into the air, like it always did, but this time it was joined by Fay Dunbar's and Draco Malfoy's. Hagrid looked at the hands and chose Hermione to answer.
"It's a pseudodragon, Professor. A lizard that was hatched from an egg which was bathed in dragon magic while it was incubated. The dragon's magic changes the lizard to be more like it. The lizard takes on the shape and some personality traits of the dragon it was exposed to," Hermione answered in textbook fashion. As she said this, the pseudodragon in Hagrid's hands began snuggling into the large man, not unlike an affectionate cat would do.
"Very good 'ermione; ten points to Gryffindor. Pseudodragons are mostly created when wild lizards or snakes build nests near to a dragon nest. The magic that fills the air around dragons will be absorbed by these little 'uns, and it will make them more dragon like.
They will grow wings and feet, in the case of snakes, and, like dragons, will like to collect shiny metal objects such as gold. People who keep them as pets will often find little stashes of shiny coins and sweet wrappers hidden throughout their houses," Hagrid was still absentmindedly fussing over the pseudodragon in his hands.
"Now pseudodragons don't get the ability to breath fire. Instead, they often 'ave a venomous sting in their tail. The venom is not fatal to humans, unless you receive ten or more stings, but it can knock you out and it will put you in the hospital wing till tomorrow. They're very friendly though, so long as they don't think they need to defend themselves, they won't sting you."
Hagrid went on to tell them about how to handle them without scaring them, telling them about what they eat and how to take care of them.
"Ok, I want you to get into pairs and come and collect one of the pseudodragons. Then, I want you to sketch a diagram of them and label it."
Harry partnered with Hermione and they went and collected a beautiful little scarlet dragon from one of the crates.
Hermione looked it over first, "I think this one is a girl, Harry, and I would say it was hatched around a Welsh red dragon," Harry would have to wait for a closer look before he could have an opinion on the critters gender, but he definitely agreed that she resembled the less common Welsh red dragon.
Harry was about to take the little thing from Hermione when there was a commotion over by the crates.
Hagrid was standing in front of Malfoy and Pansy, stopping the pair from collecting their own pseudodragon, "You will need to fill out this test before you can handle one of the dragons, Malfoy," Hagrid handed Malfoy a clipboard with a few pieces of parchment on it.
"What! None of the others had to pass any kind of test," Pansy was upset for Malfoy.
"Parkinson, unlike Malfoy 'ere, none of the other students tried calling a Hippogriff an ugly brute, something extremely dangerous to do, especially with me tellin' ya that they're proud animals that you shouldn't insult. So, I need to make sure that he understands 'ow to treat this little creatures right before he can handle one."
Neither Harry nor Hermione could keep the grins off their faces; the idea that Malfoy would have to pass a test before he could handle a pseudodragon had been an idea Hermione had come up with, but Hagrid hadn't gone for it at the time.
It seemed as though he'd had second thoughts.
With Harry now holding the cat-sized dragon, Hermione went to get some meat to feed her. When Hermione picked up a bowl of some red meat, presumably beef, the pseudodragon, who had worked its way onto Harry's shoulder hissed out, "No! I want the chicken!"
Harry was startled and proceded to fall backwards, landing with the pseudodragon on his chest.
"You can talk?" Harry asked in bewilderment.
"I can talk with you, speaker. My mother was a belly crawler. Please, tell your mate to get the chicken. I don't like the beef," The pseudodragon had a strong Welsh accent and a defiant female quality to its voice.
Harry looked around and found that a lot of the class was staring at him in mild fear and awe.
Harry sighed, of course everyone had to notice him once again , "It's not like none of you know I'm a parselmouth, so why are you all staring? Hermione... she said she likes chicken instead of beef," Hermione was also staring at Harry, but not in fear.
If Harry had to guess, Hermione seemed a little jealous that he could talk to the pseudodragon when she couldn't.
The rest of the class, upon hearing Harry's proclamation, went back to their own pseudodragons, satisfied that he wasn't talking about killing muggleborns or the such, though a few of them kept watching Harry with covert glances.
Hermione returned the bowl containing beef and swapped it for one with bits of cooked chicken, before returning to Harry and the pseudodragon, who was currently playing with a stay lock of Harry's hair that was occasionally tickling her nose. Playing was a loose term, what with the pseudodragon tightly grasping and pulling Harry's hair being considered playing by the creature.
"Bloody typical Potter ; always has to be fucking special," Malfroy called over the rest of the students.
"Oi, Malfoy! Watch your bloody language; that's five points from Slytherin," The Slytherin sneered at Hagrid, but the professor didn't notice as he was coming over to Harry and Hermione, "So, you can talk to pseudodragons Harry? I though it were only snakes y'could talk to?"
"She said her mother was a snake, so maybe that's why?"
Hagrid looked thoughtful for a moment, "Maybe; she might still have enough snake in her to count, as far as parseltongue is concerned."
Harry nodded and picked up a bit of chicken. "Watch my fingers, Ok? Your teeth look sharp," He held up the strip of white meat from the plate for the pseudodragon, and just like a snake, her head shot forward as she snapped up the food offering.
"Do you have a name?" Harry asked.
After she finished chewing she answered, "Mother called me Little Red, because I look like the Big Red she built her nest near."
"Little Red said the dragon her nest was near looked like her, and she has a Welsh accent, so you were right, 'mione; her magic came from a Welsh Red," Harry told Hermione, who added the information to the top of the page they were going to put their diagram on.
"Little red?" Hermione said.
"Apparently it's her name."
With Harry able to communicate with Little Red, the job of sketching her was easy. Once Harry explained the concept of drawing to the little dragon, he discovered that she was more than a little vain.
She loved the idea that Harry and Hermione wanted a way to, as the little creature put it, 'gaze on my glorious self after I leave'.
Harry and Hermione finished their sketches and labelling first, and then spent the rest of the lesson playing with Little Red.
--- ϟϟϟ ---
Sunday 27th February
Harry and Hermione were again in the office of their DADA teacher for Patronus lessons.
They hadn't had one for over a month, as Professor Lupin had been looking for a way to replicate Dementor exposure which didn't involve risking the use of a real Dementor.
After one of their classes earlier in the week, he had informed them that he thought he'd found a method and for them to meet him in his office today.
The Professor pulled out an old trunk, not unlike the trunks Harry and Hermione had used in their first two years at school.
"In here, I have another boggart. I have a theory, after everything that has happened. When this boggart sees you, Harry, it will hopefully take on the form of a Dementor," Both teens eyes widened at that statement.
The idea that they would face a Dementor, even a boggart posing as one, was alarming, if not terrifying.
"Now, it won't be as bad as a real Dementor. For one, the boggart won't try to eat your soul; it just wants you to be afraid so it can feed off your fear. It also won't be as strong as a real Dementor, and it is still vulnerable to the Riddikulus charm, so we can stop it if the effects prove too much to handle."
Hermione listened to their Professor aptely, and felt rather confident that everything would be fine, but by the look on Harry's face, it was clear that he was less confident.
Hermione couldn't blame him; Dementors were definitely frightening creatures, and after the memory that had been brought forth the last time he was exposed to those things, there was also a more personal kind of fear as well.
She was worried that Harry would avoid training to keep from being pulled back to the memory of that night again.
She was more worried that he would push himself just so he could hear his mother's last words.
As much as she could understand that such a memory would be precious, she was afraid for him; she didn't want him to torture himself just to hear his mother's voice.
She looked Harry over and could see that part of him was thinking just that.
She could see that he wanted to try the spell, practice casting his patronus to protect himself from such things. But he also wanted to let the Dementor affect him.
Hermione wanted to drag him out of Professor Lupin's office, and keep that horrible creature away from Harry, but he needed to learn the spell. He needed to be able to resist the temptations of his memories, and knowing how Harry's luck ran, he would need the spell at some point.
"First thing we need to do is test out if the boggart will take the form of a Dementor for you, Harry. This is all academic until we find if I am right about what form the boggart will use to attack you."
The professor waited for Harry to signal he was ready, and then threw open the trunk.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat.
She had never before hoped as much as she did right now that the Professor was wrong about something. She silently begged that Harry had some extreme phobia he hadn't yet told her about; something simple and easy to deal with.
Something that wouldn't lead to Harry having to relive that horrible night another time.
Of course, her hopes were dashed as a tall figure in tattered black robes rose out of the chest focusing on Harry.
--- ϟϟϟ ---
Hermione was in the kitchen eating dinner with her parents. She was feeling a little down.
Today was Harry's birthday and she wasn't going to be able to send him his birthday present until tomorrow.
Hermione had been horrified when in his first year, Harry had let slip that he had never had a birthday present before. She had tried to send him something last year, but the stupid house elf had stolen it.
And this year, her present was going to be late because she needed to get to the post office in Diagon Alley to send it, and her parents couldn't take the day off work until tomorrow.
She understood her parents had important jobs. Dentists might not sound important, at least, not until you had a cracked tooth or a bad cavity.
If her parents took a day off without arranging cover, people who had come to see them could be left in pain, sometimes a lot of pain.
But understanding didn't always make it easy. Harry was in pain as well; maybe not physically , but from what he had said, his relationship with his relatives wasn't a good one, and the broomstick service kit she had gotten him would definitely cheer him up a bit.
She took a bite of her meal, barely tasting it. Her parents had gotten some salmon to cheer her up; her new taste buds normally go wild over fish, but right now she was just too preoccupied.
She was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts when a loud crack happened right behind her.
She turned quickly looking for the source of the noise. And screamed.
Harry was standing right in the middle of her kitchen, holding Hedwig in his arms.
Something was wrong; Harry was shirtless, and oh my god, is that blood!
"Hermione..." The desperation and pain were clear in his trembling voice.
"Harry?" The sight of her best friend, her boyfriend's sudden appearance, and in such a state, had sent her mind reeling.
Then Harry collapsed.
"Harry! Harry!" Hermione rushed over to his side, her chair sent clattering across the room in her haste.
With all the blood covering him and Hedwig, Hermione was terrified that Harry had died. She was on her knees, shaking him, trying to get him to wake up, when she felt the strong arms of her father grab hold of her and pull her away.
Her mum was now next to Harry and checking him for injuries, but Hermione was fighting to get back to him.
"The blood is from Hedwig," Hermione stopped fighting upon hearing her mother's words, and collapsed into her father's arms, crying tears of relief.
Harry was Ok. Hedwig still needed help, but Harry was Ok.
--- ϟϟϟ ---
"Expecto patronum!" Hermione tried to cast the patronus, but the memory of Harry appearing in her kitchen and collapsing was constantly being brought to the front of her mind, even as she tried to picture their conversation from New Year's; how they'd told each other they loved them, how they'd kissed.
There were a few wisps of silver from her wand, but it wasn't even as strong as what she was able to do the first time she cast the charm.
Next to her, Harry was also trying to defend himself against the "Dementor", and whatever horrible memory it was stirring up, but he appeared to be having even less luck than Hermione was.
"Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum..." No matter how much he tried, it seemed that Harry couldn't summon the happiness needed to call a patronus.
Just as the fill of the dementor started to sap the warmth from hermione there was a shout of Riddikulus from Professor Lupin.
Suddenly, the Dementor lost its oppressive aura, and its tattered robes were suddenly replaced with a extra long muggle tie-dye T-Shirt with a peace symbol on the front and the Dementor was holding a sign that read 'groovy' .
Hermione couldn't help it the image was complete anathema to her idea of dementors that she Burst out laughing.
At her laughter, the boggart retreated back into the trunk it had been released from, and the two of them were able to relax. Professor Lupin handed them each a square of chocolate and took one for himself.
"Eat up," He said, before wolfing down his own piece.
Hermione copied the Professor, and as soon as she had swallowed the small bit of chocolate, she felt noticeably better. Harry, though, was staring at the chocolate in his hands, not eating it. He was obviously thinking about something else.
Hermione didn't need to be a genius to know he was thinking about his parents, "Eat your chocolate, Harry," Her tone was gentle but firm. He couldn't be consumed by thoughts of his parents; it wouldn't help him deal with the pain.
Harry looked at her, "Sorry, what was that? I was just...thinking."
Hermione flashed Harry a sad smile, "Eat your chocolate, Harry," she told him again. This time he did. Hermione could actually see him relax as the chocolate took away the lingering effects of the pseudo-Dementor.
"Well it looks like the boggart is a complete success. Sorry about that," Luping said. Hermione understood what he meant; it was good that they had a way to practice, but it meant that that the practice would be hard on them. As much as it would be emotionally taxing, they needed to experience that and be able to fight it.
Hermione looked at the chocolate squares on the plate that Professor Lupin had set out; she counted of nine pieces in her head, enough for three more attempts.
It was then that it dawned on her that their teacher was not immune to the effects himself; the man was evidently torturing himself in order to help them. And considering his condition, life was hard enough for him to begin with.
Professor Snape's werewolf essay had been what had clued her in to their teacher's condition. It was the only thing that fit with his disappearing from the school every full moon. She had been concerned at first, but she had checked the Marauder's map on one of the nights of the full moon, and couldn't find him on it anywhere.
He may be a danger to anyone around him during the full moon, but it seemed like he was taking precautions to keep others from harm, especially the students at the school.
She considered telling Harry, but had decided against it. As long as Professor Lupin was taking sensible precautions, then his illness was his own business. Having two parents in the medical field had taught her that people had the right to keep their medical information private.
It was up to Professor lupin if he wanted to tell Harry, not her.
What really annoyed her was that Snape had clearly tried to get around that with his essay. He had tried to call attention to information that someone had a right to keep private.
"Let's try again," Harry's words drew her thoughts back to the here and now.
Professor Lupin sighed, but agreed.
The results were about the same as last time, maybe a fraction more silver mist, but that was all.
The Professor once again ended the round with a ' Riddikulus' spell, this time transforming the boggart into a miniature version of Snape, and he was being chased by a large bottle of shampoo that had the words 'for the greasiest of hair' on the side in flashing neon light.
The three of them were unable to keep from laughing at the ridiculous sight.
They tried a few more times until the plate ran out of chocolate. They weren't able to improve much, but they were definitely getting better.
Then Professor Lupin called them over, "Ok you two, that was really good, for your first time attempting that under the influence of a Dementor's aura. It takes about half of adults who try two to three sessions before they get any mist. That two third years got this far at all is praise worthy, and you haven't finished yet," He held out two massive slabs of honeydukes best chocolate to the two teens, "These are for you. You will eat the whole bar tonight, or I will have Madam Pomfrey after me. And, knowing my luck, she'll put me in detention scrubbing bed pans."
Harry and Hermione laughed; it was easy for them to picture the stern Hogwarts nurse giving even a grown man detention.
While Harry checked with the Professor over their latest bit of homework, Hermione broke off a bit of her chocolate and let it melt on her tongue, filling her mouth with a creamy velvety sweetness. It was both a pity and a good thing that she and Harry had been confined to the castle.
She didn't think her will to avoid sugary sweets would service regular trips to Honeydukes. Their chocolate really was the best.
--- ϟϟϟ --
Vernon Dursley pulled his car into the car park at the restaurant. Both he and his wife were dressed to impress; he was wearing a black pinstripe suit that his wife said looked slimming, and she was wearing a dark purple cocktail dress, that had cost him way more than he thought it was worth.
They were meeting with a couple of dentists; the Grangers, who had been holding up a contract he needed.
The media attention around what the freak had done to his sister had gotten the executives to take a closer look at him. The self-important stuffed-shirts had not been too happy with him, and had tried to push him to resign.
He had told them to piss off. He had the best record of bringing in large deals, like the one he was finalizing tonight. The executives may not like him, but the shareholders loved him; he was great for the bottom line, and that was all that mattered.
He led his wife into the restaurant. She held onto his arm to keep her balance, her heels being difficult to balance on the uneven cobbles outside the restaurant.
The restaurant had low light and was decorated with a lot of dark woods.
"Reservation for four, under the name Dursley," Vernon told the receptionist, "Have our guests arrived yet?"
"Not yet, sir. Your table will be ready soon, if you would like to wait in the lounge, I will direct your guests there when they arrive," The man had a thick french accent, and as Vernon led Petunia over to the bar he heard her muttering, "bloody foreigners coming over here, taking jobs from good British people."
Vernon gave a grunt of agreement and ordered them some drinks. A double scotch for himself, and a white wine for Petunia, then they sat to wait for the Grangers.
They didn't have to wait long. The two dentists, a husband and wife team from London, soon arrived and the four were soon seated.
--- ϟϟϟ ---
Emma was having a hard time acting as though she was enjoying herself, sat across from the two people who had taken it upon themselves to try and break the lovely young man her daughter had fallen for, all because he could do magic and they couldn't.
To Emma, who never had a big family and treasured every bit she had, treating family like they had treated Harry was just wrong.
And the nerve of the women to tell Harry that they couldn't afford to feed him, while she goes out wearing a £500 pound dress. She wanted to tear the dress off her and rip it to shreds, but she remembered the plan that Dan had finally told her, and so instead smiled and asked, "so Petunia, do you have any children?" She knew the answer of course, because of Harry, but she didn't want them to know that.
"Oh yes, we have a son; he will be fifteen soon."
"Oh, the same age as our daughter then. She will be fifteen in September, though, sometimes she acts like she is going to be twenty. She seems in such a rush to grow up sometimes."
"I know what you mean, sometimes Dudley seems so grown up. I often miss my little Diddy-kins; it seems like just yesterday that all he wanted was to crawl in my lap and have a hug from mummy. But, that's just the way of things, I suppose."
'And where was Harry when your Diddy-kins was looking for a hug? Locked in the cupboard under the stairs? Alone and scared, you fucking bitch.'
"Of course, Dudley is in boarding school most of the year, so I only get to see him for Christmas, Easter and summer."
"Oh, you send your boy to boarding school as well? Our Hermione attends a boarding school in Scotland", Dan broke into the conversation.
"Yes, he goes to Smeltings, my old stomping ground; he will get a real education there," Vernon inputted, the pride evident in his voice.
"That's nice, our Hermione is the first in each of our families to go to boarding school. She loves it; top of her class for most subjects. Here; this is my little girl," Dan pulled a small photo out of his wallet and showed it to the Dursleys, "That was taken last New Year's, when she was home for Christmas."
The Dursleys cooed over the photo appreciatively, before Vernon pulled out a photo of his son. Both the Grangers thought that Dudley Dursley looked like someone had stuffed a pig into a private school uniform, but instead said how grown up and mature he looked.
Soon dinner arrived and talk turned to business. At Dan's questions, Vernon told them that they could fill the order relatively quickly. Vernon, after his previous conversations with Dan, had already made preparations to begin the manufacturing of the needed drills.
Then Dan revealed that he had the contract signed in his pocket for Vernon to take with him when he left.
At that revolution from Dan, the atmosphere at the table changed to one of celebration. Dan ordered a round of drinks that soon disappeared, along with their food. That was then followed by more drinks, until everyone was clearly inebriated.
Suddenly, Dan's new mobile phone went off and he answered. Dan took his call outside, leaving a tipsy Emma with the equally drunk Dursleys.
"So, as I was saying; Hermione comes home this Christmas, a boyfriend in tow.
My baby is fourteen. She isn't old enough for a boyfriend. But he was nice, really polite. Apparently, he normally stays at school over Christmas. His family doesn't want him home. How could people do that!? How can they expect a boy to grow up well without a family supporting him," Emma was acting like the alcohol was affecting her more than it was."
She was having fun calling the Dursleys bad parents to their faces, without them knowing it.
"Oh, I completely agree; it's family like that that lead to bad children and unproductive members of society. Parents like that should be arrested."
Emma wanted to laugh so bad as Petunia lambasted herself, "Oh, definitely ."
Emma was about to continue when Dan got back, "Emma, darling, we need to go. There is a pipe has burst in the surgery; we need to get back and deal with it," As he said this, he counted out some money and left it on the table, "That should cover our part of the bill. If not, you have our work number, and we can pay you back."
Emma gathered her things quickly, and they were just about to leave when Vernon spoke up, "Um, the contract ."
"Oh, right," Dan pulled a brown envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and put it on the table, "There you go. We had a great night, but we need to get back. I'm sure you understand."
"We understand completely; go on, you have stuff to take care of. Good luck," Petunia added.
Dan led Emma to the carpark and, with a mad grin on his face, called a taxi to take them home.
--- ϟϟϟ ---
Vernon was having a coffee before driving back to Surry.
He didn't normally drink coffee, but he hadn't meant to drink so much tonight, and wanted the caffeine to counter the alcohol. Having the contract signed had put him in a good mood.
The people at Grunnings trying to push him out would be silenced by the amount of money the shareholders were going to make out of this.
It wasn't just the drills, but the yearly certificate that medical drills needed, and the custom drill bits needed as well. This contract would be paying out for years, and that was in addition to any further sales that would come in the future.
Dental drills were a new, untapped market for Grunnings.
He picked up the envelope with the contract in it and opened it. He pulled out the contract and gave it a quick glance to make sure it was the right contract, then flicked to the end to check it was indeed signed.
It was; there was writing in the space for the signature.
He let out a little happy noise.
"Which of them sighed it?" His wife asked, her need for gossip fueling her curiosity again, no doubt. He looked at the signature closely;
'Go fuck yourself, you bloody monster'
He picked up the contract to have a better look. Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him.
A photo slipped out from between the pages of the contract. It was the dentist's daughter, her-me-own or something; she was dressed up for a night out and she was...
She was KISSING THE FREEK!!!
His wife picked up the photo and froze.
All the little things that the Grangers had said that night suddenly took on a new context. Their daughter obviously went to that school with the freak. Meaning, she was one of them. That she was the first in that family to go to such a school meant that she was like Petunia's bloody sister; a freak born to normal people.
Then everything Vernon and Petunia had to say about the boyfriend's family started to register; they were talking about themselves .
But it was different; that boy was a freak, he didn't belong with normal people. And now the freak goes into the Granger's lives, uninvited, ruins everything, and these people blame him for the boy's shortcomings.
Ridiculous.
He gathered up his belongings and paid the check, before storming out with Petunia following behind him, trying to keep her balance on her high-heel shoes as she walked drunk over the cobbles. They were soon both in the car, and Vernon pulled out into the traffic, muttering about the Grangers and them getting what they deserved.
Then, there were blue, flashing lights filling up his rear-view mirror.
"SON OF A BITCH!!!"
--- ϟϟϟ ---
Emma was laughing her ass off in the taxi on the way home as Dan explained the last part of his plan to her;
"so, the contract isn't signed, but I wanted the Dursleys in a drinking mood. The call wasn't from our surgery, but from Dave's brother; you know, the one on the police force?"
Dave was an old friend of theirs from college; he had failed at dentistry, but he was a good guy, so they had kept in touch.
"Dursley is about to find himself with no sales contract to justify the retool he just ordered the company pay for, and, unless I am mistaken, a nice big court case for drink driving, and probably, from what Harry said about his temper, a charge for resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer as well. Oh, and I left a picture of Harry and Hermione from New Year's in with the contract, so that he knows why we didn't sign it."
The taxi driver, previously pretending not to be able to hear them, then spoke up, "you keep talking about Dursleys. Any relation to that one that was in the news a few weeks back?"
The alcohol in his system made Dan less cautious with the truth than normal, "Her brother and his wife. Cut from the same cloth. The wife had a sister, who had a son before she died. The son, who is friends with our daughter, ended up with the Dursleys, until he turned up at our door-"
His wife cut him off, "Dan, no more; let Harry's affairs stay private," her tone conveying that there wouldn't be an argument over it.
Dan thought about it for a few moments before relenting that his wife was right, "Yeah, you're right," he turned back to the driver, "let's just say, he is safe now, and the Dursleys are getting their first taste of karma," the grin that covered Dan's face was like a kid at Christmas.
Just after the taxi had dropped off the couple, Dan's phone rang again. Emma let him talk as she fumbled in her bag for her keys. After a little struggle with the keyhole, alcohol and low light not helping, she was able to open the door, where she collapsed into the sofa as the world spun a little.
During the taxi ride, her body had absorbed more of the wine she had been drinking, and now she was definitely drunk, rather than the tipsy she had been at the restaurant.
She would definitely have a hangover tomorrow, but right now, she didn't care.
Dan came into the room carrying two large glasses of water. He handed her one, "drink up, it will keep the hangover from being too bad in the morning."
She took a sip and turned to her husband, "Who was on the phone?"
"It was Philip, Dave's brother again. Vernon took a swing at Phil, caught him in the mouth and chipped a tooth. I told him we would open tomorrow just for him," Dan explained.
"I don't think I will be fit to deal with work in the morning. I'm liable to hurt him with how hungover I'll be."
"He is coming by in the afternoon. Plenty of time for us to recover. Told him to pick up some co-codamol* from the pharmacy; it will tide him over. But, the good news is, both of them are currently sitting in a prison cell.
Petunia for a drunk and disorderly, so she will be released tomorrow morning probably. Vernon, though, is facing charges for driving under the influence and assaulting a police officer. Doubt he will see much, if any, prison time, but he will have a couple of hefty fines coming his way."
"So your plan worked?"
"Mostly. I didn't plan on Phil chipping a tooth."
"We can fix that for him. Did you tell Phill why you planned this little operation of yours?"
"Had to. Without telling him, he wouldn't have helped. He is pissed that Harry hasn't reported it, and wants me to ask him to think about it. He really wants to put Vernon behind bars with his sister, but he accepts that this is the best we can do for now."