The Girl Who Lived

Letters from no where

       As usual, Harriet's day started out as most days did for her: with some form of labour. It first involved carrying in and arranging birthday gifts for Dudley, but this was thankfully a yearly occurrence since it was rather hard for someone her size to carry such big packages. Harriet then proceeded with her normal chores. She hastily set the table and cooked breakfast, nicking some for herself lest she starve the rest of the day. Though today, not unlike most days, all of Dudley's favourite breakfast foods were on the menu. Unfortunately for Harriet, that list included almost every food known to mankind.

Around nine, shortly after Harriet finished breakfast, they finally stirred and tromped downstairs. The girl strongly suspected that the appetising aroma from the meal woke the two Dursley males first and that the ensuing noise and morning chaos roused Petunia.

Mercifully, the adult Dursleys entered quietly and sat with some modicum of self-control. Still, both loudly called and in Petunia's case squealed "Happy Birthday" to their son.

Petunia then sat quietly, eating dainty bites and occasionally dabbing her horsy face with her napkin. Vernon gently eased into his squeaking chair, burying his face behind the morning paper Harriet had thoughtfully set aside for him.

The only recognition she received for any of her efforts was from Vernon.

Upon taking a single bite of his specially made peppers and cheese omelette, the man stated, "My eggs are cold."

Moustache quivering, beady eyes travelled to Harriet's face and rested on the scar on her forehead, situated just above her right eye. He had grimaced and returned to his meal.

And things, as they always seem to do, had gone from bad to worse.

Dudley, having ingested enough food to satisfy an army battalion, began to ogle and stare at his mountain of birthday gifts. Unfortunately, this led him to count said gifts. After numerous slips ups and false starts, he concluded that there were only thirty-seven. This in itself wouldn't have been a problem, as Dudley loved receiving presents, but the year before he had obtained thirty-eight. Petunia, with her keen eyes that could spot dirt a mile away, noticed the eminent Dudley tantrum. She immediately promised to buy two more while they were out, bringing his total to thirty-nine.

Eyes filling with disdain and her lips twisting into a sneer, Harriet stepped out of the kitchen to supposedly check the post. Once in the hall, the girl exhaled and attempted to quell her restless stomach.

Displays of greed always made her feel nauseous, churning her stomach at the very thought of such gluttony. She sneered, wishing that Dudley would learn the consequences of his greed, and a small and treacherous part of her wondered when he would finally get his comeuppance. Hopefully, at the worst possible time.