Chapter Text
"And use the good china," Petunia snapped at the small dark haired boy in front of her.
"Yes Aunt Petunia," replied the boy meekly, his head bowed to her in submission.
"Good. And don't you forget about it," she said with a final nod of her head. "Now Vernon will be home around six with Marge, so you better have dinner on time. And unless you want to be punished again, your chores better be done."
The boy raise his head in fear, a large bruise on his right side of his face, eyes filled with fear. "No… I mean yes, Aunt Petunia. I'll have everything done on time," he stammered.
Petunia sniffed in disdain as she looked down at her nephew. "You’d better," she snarled as she thrust a list of chores at the boy. "Dudley get your shoes on. It's time to go," she said sweetly.
"Are we going to get me a new bike, Mummy?" Dudley said as he struggled to tie his shoes.
"Not today, Dudley. We need to get you new summer clothing. It's not even July and you've already outgrown what I bought you." Petunia said with pride as she knelt down to help Dudley with his shoes.
"But I want a new bike," Dudley whined in a high pitched voice as he watched his mother tie his shoes. "I want a big boy bike!"
Petunia got to her feet. "Now Dudley…"
"I want it! I want it!" Dudley shouted stamping his feet; and twisting his face up as if he were in pain.
"Now Dudley, you father asked me to wait. He wants to take you to look for bikes later this week. He wants to go to some place that doesn't have some many foreigners," Petunia said the last bit with disgust.
Dudley's face scrunched up in thought, "Can I get a toy?"
"Maybe," Petunia replied as she rummaged through her purse searching for her keys.
"I want a giant red robot, like the one on the telly. He's big and powerful and has laser guns. Bang! Bang!" Dudley pretended he was firing guns as he rambled on about what he's seen on the television.
Harry watched in silence as his aunt pulled the door shut behind her, leaving him alone in the house with a list of chores.
With a weary sigh Harry looked at the list before heading to the kitchen for a dust rag.
~*~
It was late afternoon when Harry started to gather the ingredients he needed to make dinner.
"Onions, potatoes, garlic," Harry said to himself as he pulled out each item, placing them on the kitchen counter.
"I need lemon for the chicken," he mumbled to himself as he opened the refrigerator door. "No lemon," he said a trace of panic evident in his voice. "Aunt Petunia wants lemon chicken. Maybe in the cabinets."
Harry begins to search the bottom cabinets, his panic growing with each one he goes through, not finding a bottle of lemon juice. Finally he climbs up onto the counter in his stocking feet to search the top cabinets.
"Lemon!" Harry squeals with relief as he finally spies a bottle on the highest shelf in the last cabinet.
Standing on the counter Harry grabbed the bottle and the slowly knelt down on the counter.
Turning the bottle in his hands, Harry discovered it was an old lemon juice bottle that Petunia had marked with a big bold X over the label.
"For rats and creepy crawls… and for bad people," Harry said to himself as he remember something his aunt once told him.
Setting the bottle down on the counter Harry once again stood up and retrieved new bottle from the shelves.
~*~
"Why aren't you finished boy!" Aunt Petunia snarled as she stormed into the kitchen, her nose flared in anger.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia," Harry said as he mashed the potatoes by hand, his glasses fogged from the steam from the hot potatoes as he stood at counter on a little stool.
Petunia marched past Harry and over to the stove where to lifted the lid on the frying pan. "Barely adequate," she said as she looked down her nose at the meal Harry had created. "Did you finish all your chores?" she asked as she slammed the lid back down.
"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry replied as she wiped the sweet from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"And Dudley's room? Did you clean it?" Petunia asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Harry looked up at his aunt in confusion. "It… it wasn't on the list," he stammered as he reached into his pockets in search for it.
"I told you before I left you were to clean Dudley's room," Petunia snapped. "Just for that no dinner tonight."
"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry replied his shoulder slumped in defeat.
"You should be grateful that I won't tell your uncle that you disobeyed me," stated Petunia as she started to straighten the immaculate kitchen. "Now get to your room."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said as he hopped down off the stool. "And thank you for not telling Uncle Vernon."
As Harry was closing the cupboard door behind him, Petunia voice could be hear as she talked to herself. "Needs more lemon. Damn boy can't do anything right."
It was less than a half-hour later when the front door open and Uncle Vernon and his sister, Marge enter the house.
The house echoed with compliments of how well Aunt Marge looked; how Dudley was growing up to be a fine young man, that Dudley was too thin and the need for him to eat more.
"And where is that worthless scoundrel?" Marge asked as they walked pasted Harry's cupboard and into the kitchen. "Have you finally got rid of him?"
Petunia sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately no. Right now he's confined to his room for misbehaving."
"Something I need to deal with, my pet?" Vernon asked suddenly interested in what the two women where discussing.
"No Vernon," Petunia waving off her husband's concern, "I've handled it, dear."
"If you're sure?" Vernon asked as he looked back at the cupboard door.
"I am dear. Now lets go eat," Petunia said as she tuned her attention back to Marge. "I've made your favorites; lemon pepper chicken with mashed potatoes and candied carrots. And for desert fresh strawberry pie."
Marge's eyes widened at Petunia's word as she licked her lips unconsciously. "You must have spent hours cooking Petunia."
"Think nothing of it. After all only the best for my family and my favorite sister-in-law." Petunia cooed with false modesty.
"But I'm your only sister-in-law." Marge said as Dudley held out the chair for her.
"And that’s why you're my favorite." Petunia replied as she sat next to her husband.