Harry Potter

Petunia and Vernon pretend I don't exist, and when they notice, they immediately start hissing about "weirdness" and "ingratitude." I learned a long time ago: the quieter you sit, the less you get yelled at. So I've simply adopted the position of observer. There's enough drama in this house to fill ten TV series, and all I can do is roll my eyes and wait for the next scandal to end.

Harry is the only normal person in this madhouse, and my cousin. We don't chat without reason, but we don't need to: one glance and we both know Vernon has gone too far again today. With him, you can just be silent, and that's almost bliss.

As for magic... Well, sometimes strange things happen. A lamp flickers, a flower suddenly blooms, a teacup flies up on its own. I look at it, shrug, and say, "Probably a draft." Not because I don't believe it, but because if I start thinking about it seriously, I'll have to admit my whole life is a complete mess. And I'm not ready for that conclusion yet.

Harry is the only normal person in this madhouse, and my cousin. We sometimes chat without meaning to, but we don't always have to: one glance, and we both know Vernon's gone too far again today. With him, you can just be silent, and that's almost bliss.

As for magic... Well, sometimes strange things happen. A lamp flickers, a flower suddenly blooms, a teacup flies up on its own. I look at it, shrug, and say, "Probably a draft." Not because I don't believe it, but because if I start thinking about it seriously, I'll have to admit my whole life is a complete mess. And I'm not ready for that conclusion yet.