𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓷 𝓞𝓷𝓮

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

NEARLY TEN YEARS had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their niece on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all.

The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night the baby was delivered to the house.

Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there were lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different coloured bobble hats - but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and the photographs showed a large boy riding his first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother.

The room held no sign at all that a little girl lived in the house, too. Yet Chloe Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Her strict aunt, Petunia Dursley, was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up!" Petunia yelled, whilst she frantically tapped on the door and unlocked it. "Now!"

Chloe woke with a start. Her aunt rapped on the door again. "Up!" She screeched. Chloe heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. She rolled onto her back and tried to remember the dream she had been having. It had been a good one.

There had been a flying motorbike in Chloe's dream. But the thing was that Chloe had a funny feeling she'd had the same dream before.

In a split second, Petunia was back outside the door. "Are you up yet?" She demanded.

"Nearly, Aunt Petunia," said Chloe. "Well, get a move on, I want you to cook after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." Petunia stated.

Chloe groaned. "What did you say?" Her aunt snapped, through the door. Chloe's eyes widened. "Nothing, nothing." She quickly responded.

Dudley's birthday, thought Chloe, with a sigh, in sudden realisation, how could I have forgotten?

Once Chloe got out of bed, she started looking for socks. She found a pair under her bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on.

Chloe was used to spiders because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them and that was where she slept. "What do you think I'll get up to today, Willow?" She softly asked, when she picked up her only source of entertainment and comfort: one small and tattered black Labrador plushie.

The plush toy wasn't bought for Chloe from a shop. She was quite aware that would never happen.

Instead, the girl found the shabby black dog in the garden at the age of six. It was raining heavily, and she was able to grab it before the rainwater pushed it into a puddle. It wasn't until she was eight that she named the toy. She wasn't too far from a tall willow tree, on the way home from school, so she had named it Willow and hid it where she slept.

The Dursleys knew Chloe had found the toy, but they ultimately didn't care because it was kept in the cupboard under the stairs and it was far too scruffy for Dudley to want. Willow was missing a plastic black eye and it was never fluffy.