To Have and to Want

The Dursleys tended to ignore him for the past few weeks. Harry only had several days left until he was seventeen and was gone from Privet Drive for good. He would probably never see them again afterwards--no that he'd miss them.

But he was about to get a new surprise. "Boy!" Uncle Vernon yelled from downstairs.

Harry came down. "What?"

"Don't you say 'what' in that tone, boy! Your Aunt Marge is coming to visit again," he said. "And if anything happens like it did the last time--"

"What?" Harry snapped. "What then?"

"Never mind. You will put all that... freaky stuff of yours where she can't see it. Including that damn owl."

Harry shrugged. Dumbledore made him promise to remain at the Dursleys until his seventeenth birthday, and he owed him at least that much. He would certainly try.

But he got an idea that could prove useful. He didn't have much time before Aunt Marge got here, but it was enough. He went upstairs to his room, gathered all the magical stuff into the trunk, got out a piece of parchment, and wrote a letter. "Here, Hedwig," he told his owl. "Be careful."

The owl flew away. Harry hid the trunk under his bed. The room looked almost normal now. Harry shrugged. Less than a week left.

He heard Aunt Marge's voice from downstairs. She and Aunt Petunia were talking about Dudley, who was away somewhere. Then Uncle Vernon yelled at him to come down and help Aunt Marge carry her bags to the guest bedroom.

"Still leeching off my brother?" she barked.

Harry ignored her, carried the bags upstairs, swallowed his meal, and left the house. He returned late, and went straight up to his room. Aunt Marge tried to get him to stop, but he ignored everything--even insults to his parents. "A delinquent. Just like his father, probably." Harry slumped down on his bed. He didn't want Aunt Marge to see any magical stuff, and he doubted she'd look closely at the books on the shelf. His reading at least kept him from being bored to death.

But Aunt Marge couldn't affect him for long. Harry was almost excited. The time until he could leave was measured in hours, not days. But at lunchtime, Aunt Marge dropped another surprise on them.

"Vernon, how about I take Dudders to my club tonight?" From what he'd overheard in the past few days, Aunt Marge owned a discotheque in London. She said she was well known by parents who were afraid of their children mixing up with the wrong crowd. "The wrong crowd,"--at this point, she looked at Harry-- "aren't allowed in."

"Splendid, Marge!" Uncle Vernon exclaimed. "What do you say, son?"

Dudley nodded absentmindedly. "Sure," he said.

"Good," Aunt Marge said. "You're coming, too," she declared to Harry.

"What?!" Harry, Aunt Petunia, and Uncle Vernon asked at once.

"Yes, you are," Aunt Marge said. "I need someone to serve drinks."

Dudley laughed. Uncle Vernon gave a nasty smile. Aunt Petunia froze.

Harry shrugged. "Whatever." He headed away.

"You better not be late!" Aunt Marge yelled after him.

"Whatever," Harry repeated. He could go. His plan might work even better this way.

XXX

Harry was carrying around a tray of drinks, watching as Aunt Marge tried--unsuccessfully--to get girls to dance with Dudley. Dudley seemed to enjoy giving Harry orders and having them instantly obeyed more. At least he got results that way.

Harry laughed to himself. The club was advertised to parents of teens as free of harmful influences; that was at best an exaggeration. The punch Harry was serving had been spiked, and Dudley already had enough to be a bit tipsy. The few chaperons Aunt Marge hired were barely older than the kids themselves, and wouldn't be able to throw out even someone like Dudley. In fact, Harry was afraid that if some unsavory types did come in, he'd have to pull out his wand.

But the prospects of that were unlikely, and he could even have some fun if--"

"Boy! I need another drink!" Aunt Marge yelled at him.

"Yes, Ms. Dursley," Harry said. Aunt Marge forbid him to all her "Aunt" in the club.

She took the glass, didn't bother thanking him, and drank it. Harry took a few steps backwards--a sensible precaution.

Aunt Marge dropped the glass, and fell to the ground, unconscious.

"What did you--"

"Shut up, Dudley," Harry said. "Guys! Help me move her!"
A few boys slightly older than him approached. "Everyone?" one of them asked Harry.

"Looks like it," Harry replied. He looked around. Sure enough, all the hired chaperons were lying on the floor, sleeping.

"Thanks, mate," the other boy said. "How did you do this?"

"Magic," Harry answered. The guy laughed as he helped Harry drag Aunt Marge into a broom closet.

When Harry sent Hedwig away, he wrote to Fred and George, asking for a few useful potions. He picked them up at Mrs. Figg's, planning to use them if Aunt Marge did something extremely unbearable. Harry decided this qualified.

Harry returned to the main room, where Dudley still looked dumbfounded. The older boy walked into the center and declared, "Now that we got rid of annoyances, let's have a real party!" Everyone except Dudley cheered.

Harry had fun outside the magical world for the first time in his life. He danced with a few girls--quite a few were eager to when the older boy--Patrick Nelson, as he introduced himself, claiming to be a descendant of Admiral Nelson--informed the crowed that he got Marge and the rest of of the chaperons off their backs. He almost wished he could stay, and make a living for himself in the Muggle world. That was a fantasy and he knew it, but who said you couldn't fantasize?

"Get away from me, you pig!" he heard someone shouted. He turned. Dudley was trying to make moves on a girl, and had grabbed her arm. He was even less successful at getting dance partners in the past hour than he had been with Aunt Marge hovering nearby. By the look on his face, Dudley was about to erupt in anger, and Harry wouldn't put it past him to hit the girl.

He approached his cousin, who was still pulling the girl towards him.

"Dudley," Harry said almost into his ear, "she goes to my school."

"Aaargh! Get away from me!" Dudley immediately let the girl go and scampered. Harry looked at her face.

It was Parvati.

"Harry!" she exclaimed.

"Hi, Parvati," Harry said. "I didn't even have to lie."

"What?"

"Oh. I didn't recognize you, so I said you went to school with me to get my cousin off you."

"Cousin? That's--"

Harry nodded. "That's Dudley. I just knew he'd lay off if he thought you were a,"--he lowered his voice to a whisper-- "witch."

"Thanks. What're you doing here?"

"My Aunt owns this joint, and she brought Dudley here to meet girls--"

Parvati laughed.

"--and me to serve drinks. Big mistake. She's in a broom closet under a sleeping potion."
Parvati laughed again.

"Do you frequent Muggle clubs often?" Harry asked.

"No, but my... boyfriend--well, ex-boyfriend now--showed me this place last week."

"He's already and ex-boyfriend?"

Parvati frowned. "I'd rather not talk about--"

"Parvati!" Patrick nelson approached them. "You know..."

"--him," Parvati managed to finish the sentence.