Chapter- 19 : Defiance
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"You want me to what?" The glass tabletop of the side table rattled audibly under the force of his uncle's mug as it was set down. Harry's eyes flicked down to it momentarily, then he returned his gaze to his uncle, reminding himself - again - that he wasn't trying to escalate this. However difficult Uncle sometimes makes that...
"I want you to sign the permission form to let me go to Hogsmeade, and to give me the money for a cab to King's Cross so I can go to Diagon Alley on Sunday."
Uncle Vernon's cheeks were turning ruddy. "We already make the trip twice a year just so you can go to that freakish school. Now you want us to pay for it whenever you feel like going shopping? Preposterous! And you can forget ever getting that formed signed. Now get back to your chores. The house better be spotless when Marge comes next week!"
Harry took a deep breath, wondering, for a second, if he was really going to do this. Really thought he could. Then he let the breath out, carefully controlled, and stared at his uncle's face. "Uncle," he said, "I'm not asking. I'm demanding."
His uncle stilled, and his face began to turn even redder, before he relaxed and let out a harsh bark of laughter. "And what are you going to do? You can't use magic during the summer, or you'll be expelled. No, I think you'll not be demanding anything. In fact, I don't think you'll be bothering us at all. A few weeks in your room ought to do you some good."
His uncle was looking entirely too pleased with the idea; if he didn't act fast, he'd find himself forcibly dragged to the room, and locked in till weeks beyond the day Ron said he would meet him. And that... That I can't let happen.
"Wrong," he said, and he was slightly surprised at how coolly it came out, because although he often baited his uncle, he'd never outright defied him.
"Wrong?" his uncle echoed dumbly.
"Wrong. It's not that I can't do magic over the summer, uncle, it's just that I can't use my wand. And now that I've figured a way around it, if you ever want any peace ever again, you'll comply to my demands." Please let this work. I don't want to have to find out whether or not I'm bluffing. Reaching out, he gathered his magic as he'd practiced for the past month, and as the lights began to flicker, he raised an eyebrow at the figure across the room from him.
"What the- boy! Are you doing this?"
"Sign the paper, and give me the money. I'll pay you back."
His uncle looked more upset than furious - and uncertain, which boded well, he thought - until the tableau was broken by an unexpected appearance.
"Vernon? Vernon! The power's gone out, I knew we should have switched over to British Energy, Ceilia and I were talking about it just this Tuesday..." As his aunt stepped into the living room, her words faltered. "Vernon? What's... What's going on?"
He spoke before his uncle had time to. "It's nothing, Aunt Petunia." He didn't take his eyes off his uncle. "Uncle Vernon was just going to sign my permission form, and lend me some money."
"What the... Vernon? Is he..." Her voice dropped to a horrified whisper, "is he doing this?" Harry twitched, upping the amount of magic he was gathering, hoping to end it quickly.
Several knick-knacks across the room started shaking, and a persistent rattling drew his eyes back to the side table, where the glass mug shaking on the glass table began to make noise. Unfortunately, the noise also seemed to shake his relatives out of their shock rather than shocking them further, and his aunt shrieked, "Vernon! Make him stop!"
His wife's presence seemed to propel his uncle forward. "Now boy, stop this immediately." In the battle between horror and anger, horror had lost, and his uncle's face was rapidly getting redder.
He gritted his teeth, refusing to back down. "Sign the paper."
"Boy!"
The shaking around the room got more pronounced, and the glass mug had begun to walk itself closer to the edge of the side table. His own temper was beginning to slip. "Sign it."
"If you don't stop now..." His uncle took one step forward, then another.
Don't let this turn physical. He watched the large man warily, "Sign. It."
Finally reaching the end of the table, the mug tipped over and landed on the carpeted floor, breaking in several pieces with a loud crack. His aunt let out a small scream. His uncle lunged, and he felt a start of alarm rush through him -
Every piece of glassware in the room exploded.
What? How-?
His aunt gave a louder scream. His uncle shouted as several shards of glass sprayed across his pants. Dudley ran into the room, then froze, staring.
Did I-?
"You, what, boy-"
"Uncle Vernon," He began, cutting across whatever his uncle had been about to say. "Sign the note, and have the money waiting tomorrow morning. Or it'll only get worse." Then he spun and stalked up to his room.
It wasn't 'til the door was closed and locked that he let himself slump against the door, shaking, as he stared at his hands.
I didn't mean to do that.
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IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE BY 25+ ADVANCED CHAPTERS YOU CAN DO IT BY GOING TO
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