12 The Reaction
They stopped at a hardware store down the street. The pretty woman said that she knew nothing about tools and wanted to stay in the car. The driver took Harry inside and they walked around for a bit.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” A young man asked and approached them.
“Ladders.” The driver said.
“Right this way.” The young man said and led them to the back of the store. The wall was covered in all kinds of ladders. “Now, this model...” The young man started to explain what each ladder was.
Harry looked at them and knew that he couldn't open his trunk and try them to see what one would fit, so he walked back to where he had seen the measuring tapes. He took one and walked over to a discrete corner, popped open the lid just enough, then quickly extended the tape down to the floor. He saw the depth and wound the tape back up, then walked back to the back of the store.
“...the folding one is...” The young man was still talking about ladders.
“Eight feet.” Harry said and held up the measuring tape.
“Ah, I see.” The driver said and took the tape. “You couldn't tell what you needed without seeing how big it was by extending this and seeing how far it reached.”
Harry nodded.
The driver turned to the young man. “We need an eight foot ladder.”
“We have several.” The young man said and moved down the wall slightly and pointed. “Straight ladders in both wood and metal. Collapsible in metal. Folding A frames in both metal and wood...”
“That one.” Harry said when the young man pointed to the tall pine wood stepladder with steps only on one side. It folded up and looked sturdy.
“Why wood?” The driver asked. “The metal one will last a lot longer and...”
“...makes a lot more noise.” Harry said and shook the metal one and it rattled. He thought everyone knew that and shook the wooden one to show him. There was barely a sound.
“Well, I'll be. It is quieter.” The driver said and smiled. “Then that's the one he wants.”
The young man lifted it down and carried it for them all the way to the front of the store and stood there with it in line with them. “18A, 3C.” He said to the checkout girl when it was their turn.
“Sure.” The girl said and added it to the stock sold sheet, then she rang in the purchase. Harry bought both the ladder and the measuring tape, since he had never owned anything like it before and it was fun to use, and they left the store.
“That was fast.” The pretty woman said as she stepped out of the car with the new light jacket Harry had bought. “It's getting a little chilly. You should put this on.”
The driver opened the boot of the car... and sighed. “How the hell am I going to get this to wherever you live, kid?”
“Language.” His wife said.
“Sorry, honey.” The driver said and scratched his head.
“Do that.” His wife said pointed to his head.
“I can't carry the damn thing all the way to...”
“...on the car.” She clarified and the driver looked at the small rack on the car roof. He asked Harry for the measuring tape and used it to measure the right spot to balance the ladder, made sure that one of the rungs touched the taxi sign in the middle of the roof to stop the ladder from sliding, then tied it down. With it secured, the three of them climbed into the car. Harry was quite happy that his new measuring tape had helped him already.
“So, what's your address?” The pretty woman asked from the front seat.
“Fourteen Privet Drive.” Harry lied. He opened his trunk and started transferring his new clothing into it. I can't fit a dresser into the opening. He thought. Maybe I can put my clothes on the bookshelf?
It was dark out as they drove all the way back to Privet Drive, then the taxi pulled over to the curb.
“Here you are. Home sweet home.” The driver said and was glad that he didn't see any bullies.
Harry pulled out another ten pound note and handed it over the seat. The driver looked at it for only a second and then accepted it. His wife didn't say anything, either. She did frown at her husband, though.
The driver shrugged at her and climbed out, then took the ladder off of the roof of the car. “Where do you want it?” He asked Harry, who climbed out of the back seat with his trunk.
“Right there on the walk by the tree.” Harry said. He had chosen this house specifically for that purpose to explain the ladder.
“Right.” The driver said. “Well, it was nice meeting you.” He smiled as his wife stepped out of the car.
Harry nodded and the pretty woman put her hands on his shoulders, then she ran one of her hands through the hair on the top of his head. A moment later, she bent down and gave him a hug. She took a deep breath and let it out, then let Harry out of the hug.
“Thank you.” Harry said, his face red. It was his second hug of the day, from two different women, and he was at a loss as to why. Aunt Petunia had never hugged him for as long as he could remember, and he didn't realize that he was so thin and frail that normal people saw him and felt sorry for him.
“I'm very glad that I could help.” The pretty woman said and climbed back into the car. “Goodbye.”
“See you later, kid.” The driver said and climbed into the taxi, then it drove away down the street.
Harry looked around to see if anyone was nosing out of their windows like Aunt Petunia did, didn't see anyone, and went to the ladder. He opened his trunk and opened the ladder. He almost jumped for joy when it just barely fit into the 3 foot by 2 foot opening. He didn't even have to let the ladder go as it softly landed on the floor and the top was right in the middle of the trunk. He moved it so that it was on the side of the trunk's opening and closed the lid.
Now I can get my things out. Harry thought and grabbed the handle of the trunk. It was still light as a feather and he walked down Privet Drive to the actual house where he lived. He knew this was going to be explosive and he wasn't sure how he was going to counter whatever his aunt and uncle planned. He had nothing to do but face them, since he couldn't live out on the street or go to school before September first.
Harry had initially planned to have the taxi take him all the way to London, then thought it was way too far to take a taxi. He didn't know any other way to get there, so he walked up the path to the front door of The Dursleys. He reached for the handle with a sigh and... it was locked.
That figures. Harry thought and wondered what time it was. I should have bought a watch.
For the first time in his life, Harry knocked on the door to his own house to get in.
*
Uncle Vernon was in a tizzy. Aunt Petunia was almost as anxious and agitated as he was. They had been completely surprised that the boy they had taken in, the boy they had fed, the boy they had raised for eleven years, had grabbed a trunk from somewhere and had run off on them. Dudley and his friends had lost sight of him barely seven streets away and then nothing.
They didn't dare tell the neighbours or the police, since he was pretty much their deep and dark secret. Barely anyone at all knew that there was a second boy living there, except for the school, and they didn't really care much for the boy, either. Unlike their little Duddikins that received a letter from the school practically every week that told them about his behavior and his progress at school, they had never once received a letter about Harry.
That was their own view, of course. The letters for Dudley were actually school censures; but, they were worded so friendly that Vernon and Petunia took them for praise and rewarded Dudley instead of punishing him as the letters so very kindly might have suggested between the lines of pleasantries.
It was nearing seven o'clock at night, pitch dark out, and there was still no sign of the boy. They weren't really worried for him, though. They were worried for their own sake. Petunia knew that if anyone found out they housed a runaway orphan, well, the entire neighbourhood might see them as a laughing stock.
A taxi drove by and Petunia darted to the window. She told her husband that it went down the street and stopped at fourteen, then dropped off some rich boy that must have been visiting the Havershums. She went back to his side and fretted over the problem they had. Not long after, there was a knock on the front door.
Vernon walked across the living room and down the hallway, past the cupboard under the stairs, and went to the door. He peeked out through the peephole and saw what looked like an unruly tuff of jet black hair.
“YOU!” Vernon yelled and his anger flared as he yanked the front door open. “What the devil are you doing here?” He asked loudly, all his worry forgotten.
Petunia rushed to stand behind her husband to support him.
“You have some nerve coming back here after making your aunt worry all... damn... day...” Vernon's words trailed off when his beady little eyes finally saw the well-dressed and handsome boy in front of him. “Who in the bloody blue blazes are you?”
“It's me.” The handsome boy said. “Harry. Harry Potter.”
Vernon's mouth dropped open in surprise and didn't know what to say. Petunia saw the perfect unblemished skin, the stylish and flattering haircut, the expensive clothing that fit well, and the lack of glasses.
“H-H-Harry? Is... is that really you?” Petunia asked, her voice shaky.
“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” Harry said in what was to her, his very familiar defeated tone of voice.
Petunia took in a quick breath, let out a tiny little shriek, then fainted.