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A/N You will be surprised to hear that I own everything except the characters this time. So, this is a short a/n, so enjoy and I’ll talk to you later!~


 


Piers Polkiss and I met in primer school, year four. It was the day he pushed me into the mud and I smacked his lip. (I was obviously more aggressive.) We were both sent to the headmistress who gave us detention for 3 weeks.


 


So, we had to clap erasers after school. This involved getting a lot of chalk dust in our throats and racing to the water fountain.


 


“Move over, will you?” I rasped. He had gotten there quicker, being less large than I was. He gave me a slight look and went back to his water. I rolled my eyes. Finally, two minutes later, he moved over and slumped to the floor.


 


“Ahh,” He sighed. “That felt good.”


 


It did feel good. My throat had to be as dry as the Amazon dessert. Wherever that was. Wait. Amazon? No, that’s a rain forest, right? I dunno. My throat was as dry as some dessert place. You get the picture.


 


I slid down next to him and put out my hand, as if we hadn’t met before. “Dursley.”


 


He shook it easily. “Polkiss. Piers Polkiss.”


 


Soon the teacher who was doing our detention came over with the cane to get us back into the room. We scampered back in. “Dudley Dursley.” I whispered as we assumed our clapping positions, aware that I hadn’t told him my first name.


 


“Mates?” He asked later.


 


“Mates.”


 





 


Three years later and we were still clapping erasers. Nothing much had changed between us. He was still lanky; I was still intrigued with food. The school year was amazing for us. He wasn’t there to give us more of a bullying outlet, but we enjoyed out power anyway. He had been going to that school for two years, and now without him, Piers and I spent numerous hours together.


 


“Bey Budley!” His mouth was full of ice cream. He swallowed. “Whaddyah say we ‘play’ in the playground?”


 


That was our keyword for getting free ice cream. Our means of getting the money were simple. We would walk up to one of the kids on the teeter totter. I would put my foot down on the plank so no matter how hard the other kid pushed, they wouldn’t be able to go up and down. One kid would be stuck in the air, and the other trapped by my foot.


 


“Hey kids.” Piers would joke, nudging me. “Wanna ice cream?”


 


Most of the kids nodded, it all depended. We tried not to do it to little girls, because they had a knack of crying for their mummies.


 


Then I would roll up my sleeve and sneer; “so would we.” By then, if they weren’t terrified, they thought it was a big joke. Once, we had this kid who gave us a lot of cheek. He told me that he had dairy allergies, nut allergies, caramel allergies, fruit allergies, chocolate allergies, and all kinds of other stuff. God, he was annoying. He finally just left him there blabbing about all his allergies. His name was Mark Evans. We vowed to get him one day.


 


Anyway, after we would sneer, we would reach into their pockets to see what they had, most of it was pocket money, so we were in luck. Piers would take the kid on top, and I would reach into the pockets of the kid I was holding back. Once, I found a yo-yo. That same time Piers found a worm. That kid was more concerned about his worm than the other kid was about his yo-yo. Sad, I thought.


 


Simple, yet effective. It worked every time.


 


There was one time though. The experience scared me half to death. I just wasn’t expecting it…


 


There was this little boy, one of the two stupid brothers from the next town over. Their Dad was our milkman. His name was David. Or Dan. Or Mike. I don’t know. Anyway, he had a big brother, but we had heard he went to boarding school, so it was just the little kid all by himself.


 


He was singing very quietly. We snuck behind him and listened.


 


“…Teach us something please. Whether we are young or old or bald with…” He scratched his head, trying to remember the words. “Purple knees!” He exclaimed. Piers and I fell over laughing. No matter what the words were, we could tell you “purple knees” were not part of the song. The boy looked at us quizzically. “Do you know the song?”


 


Piers was trying to keep a straight face. “No, can you teach me?” He gave me a look.


 


The boy smiled. How gullible. “It’s from the school my brother Colin goes to. He’ll be home in the summer. It’s a special school for special people. Like him! I Hope I get to go there too, I mean it’s supposed to…”


 


I was rolling on the floor. This kid thought his juvenile delinquent brother went to a “special school.” And he wanted to go there too! But then he started singing again.


 


“Hogwarts, Hogwarts teach us something please, whether we are…”


 


One word in particular caught my ear. “What did you say boy?” I interrupted his singing.


 


“You’ll have to call me by my real name if you want my attention.” He remarked in that remarkably high voice of his.


 


“Sorry, your highness.” Piers sniggered. “What is thy name?” He curtsied, but I was still looking at the boy with an open mouth.


 


“M’name’s Dennis Creevy!” He exclaimed. “The song goes “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, teach us something p-”


 


I stopped him short by pushing him backwards. “Did you say Hogwarts?”


 


“Yup, yup.” He scrambled to his feet. “That’s the school. I get to go when I’m 11 I think. Yes, 11, that’s the age. Only two more years, I’m nine! How old are you?” We didn’t answer. He didn’t wait. “Well, time for supper, see you around!” He hobbled over to the gate and walked down the path to the milkman cart. His father joined him and they drove away.


 


“That was weird,” Piers started. “Weird little kid, phew! You’d think they’d put him in that special school already wouldn’t you? He’s crazy! And what kind of name is “Hogwarts” anyway? Is it an asylum? You know, it’s too bad he didn’t stick around. I bet he would have given us all his pocket money if we asked.”


 


All I could do was nod. “Yah.”


 




I ran home to mum. “Mum, I...” I was about to ask her to tell me everything she knew about his world. She turned around quickly from tidying the desk. Too quckly. Hmm…


 


“I have to go to the washroom Dudleykins. Give mummy one minute, then I’ll fix supper!” She slammed the drawer shut before leaving.


 


I nodded. As soon as her back was turned I seized the drawer and pulled it open. Inside was an old fashioned diary. It was brown. I flipped it open. I recognized my mother’s thick but neat handwriting.

September 1st, 1972
Dear Diary,
Lily started Hogwarts today, and I am very sad. I want to go too, and so badly. Instead, I have to go to the local public school. I hope they are nicer than the kids in last year's school... 


 


 


The first line alone made me drop the book like a hot potato. My prim and proper mother had had the same fantasies as I did? No wonder! I picked the book up and kept reading.

...It's not my fault I have such a horrid name.

Anyway, when Lily walked through that wall, I felt myself rip inside. I am going to miss her dearly.


  


Been there, done that. It wasn’t quite a rip, but a pain. And it wasn’t in my butt.


 
So now Mum and I are going to buy some new things. I absolutley hate shopping. Usually she brings Lily, her little dress-up-doll. I have a feeling I'm going to be going wi-


 


“Put. It. Down.” I heard a voice behind me.


 






 


A/N You know, I could be mean and stop here. Lucky for you, I’m nice. It’s just a bit longer though.


BTW, the journal entry Petunia makes corresponds somewhat with my other ff, “Chrysanthemum Evans.” So when your done, if you haven’ checked it out and you liked this I suggest you do!


 


Recap:


 


“Put. It. Down.” I heard a voice behind me.






 


 


“Mum really, I didn-” I wheeled around to find…my father?


 


“Father! I…I…”


 


He chuckled. “I was just as curious at your age. Did you read anything, son?”

“No.” I lied easily.


 


“Well then, you know, we could just keep this our little secret.”


 


I nodded, thankful. “Why don’t you just put that back where you found it?” He suggested. I nodded again. He left with a grunt of “Is supper going to be ready soon?” I snuck one last look at the diary.

...-the her every time from now on. I hate shopping, but I guess it will be good to spend time with mum. I feel we are very distant, especially because she thinks Lily is so special and i'm so...so...normal.

-P. Evans


  


I took a deep breath and put the diary down, my head reeling with what I had read.


 


 


A/N So this was a rather long one, I hope you liked. I will be back with the next chapter ASAP. Please leave a review so I can fix up what you don’t like!


 

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