"Marge! It’s wonderful to see you!" Petunia Dursley opened the door to greet her sister in law. They embraced, and it’s a wonder Petunia didn’t come out of it with some broken bones, judging from the considerable differences in their sizes. However she emerged unscathed and led Marge into the living room, which was unrecognizable as such due to the piles and piles of presents around the walls.

"How could I miss my Dudders' second birthday?" Marge boomed loudly, making the two small boys seated on the kiddy-couch (Petunia wouldn’t let them sit on the real one) jump. The rounder of the two resembled an over-inflated ball and rolled onto the floor. Petunia squealed and ran to her son, while Marge examined the other boy with her beady eyes.

"So. They haven’t got rid of you yet, eh?"

Though Harry Potter had learned to speak long ago, he had also learned what would happen if he achieved anything before Dudley did- it wasn’t pleasant- and since Dudley’s vocabulary had not improved since he had mastered ‘Won’t!’ last year, Harry wisely kept his mouth shut. He knew Aunt Marge was here for Dudley’s birthday. He also knew she would probably be the only guest, because no one really liked the Dursleys. They didn’t seem to notice, though and it was just as well, since they would probably be angered by the news, and all the Dursleys had this annoying habit of taking their anger out on Harry.

Oddly enough, Dudley’s birthday was one of Harry’s favorite days of the year- he even liked it better than his own, because the Dursley’s treated Harry’s birthday like any other day, but Dudley’s birthday- that was different!

The house was filled with presents and Aunt Petunia always made a huge chocolate cake- sometimes Harry could even sneak a piece of it- and though he wasn’t given any party favors or noise makers, they didn’t seem to mind much if he played with the fancy wrapping paper and sparkly ribbons that Dudley tore off his presents. All in all, Dudley’s birthday made a change from the normal, and Harry was not a fan of normality. He just didn’t understand why the Dursleys loved it so much- it was so boring.

He heard the front door open with a bang, signaling Uncle Vernon’s return from Grunnings. Vernon walked into the living room, greeted both Marge and Petunia with a loud kiss on the cheek, and patted Dudley on the back, causing him to roll off the couch again. However, another scene was averted because he rolled right into a pile of presents, grabbed one, and ripped the wrappings off of it- revealing a ‘my sized jeep’. The next two hours were spent wading through the other mountains of gifts: there were candies and action figures, videos and cassette tapes, and much, much more.

After presents, came cake and ice cream- Harry even managed to get a slice of cake and wolf it down before Aunt Petunia caught him. The way he got the cake was strange, though. He’d just been sitting there watching Dudley eat his house-sized slice, thinking how good it must have tasted and suddenly there, in his hands was a plate with a slice of gooey chocolate cake on it, just like Dudley’s, except regular sized. Harry could scarcely believe it, and he really couldn’t believe that no one else had noticed him with it. After he finished, now this was the really strange part, the plate just disappeared, right out of his hands! Harry couldn’t believe his luck!

In fact, Harry was having an all around wonderful day until they played musical chairs. As he and Dudley were the only children, they were the only participants, and since musical chairs was game for multiple players, this seemed a rather stupid party game choice to Harry, but they played it nonetheless. Aunt Petunia set up the hi-fi and uncle Vernon stood at the ready with his camera. Aunt Marge positioned herself close to the single chair in the middle of the room. For a better view, Harry supposed, but he couldn't imagine why. He was soon to find out. Aunt Petunia started the music (Old Macdonald Had a Farm) and stopped it abruptly after ‘and on that farm he had a pig…’. (Aunt Petunia had a strange dislike for pigs, considering the fact that her only son greatly resembled one.) As the music stopped Dudley waddled towards the chair and Aunt Marge reached down with her cane and rapped Harry smartly on the shin. Harry fell, a sharp pain shooting through his leg, but that was not the worst part- oh no. The worst part by far was when Harry gazed up at his attacker to see that her ordinarily sepia salon-tinted curls were now a particularly hideous shade of chartreuse (moldy green). This would have been quite funny, had Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia not both noticed the same thing.

Petunia gestured wordlessly and all Vernon managed to squeeze out between large wheezes was "Cupboard. Now."

Aunt Petunia grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him out of the living room and flung him inside the cupboard under the stairs. As Harry sat listening to her retreating steps, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, he reviewed the day- not bad, really. He had gotten that piece of cake after all. He watched a spider scuttle across the floor, towards the light coming from the crack under the door, towards the music that had resumed (he supposed Dudley was playing musical chairs with himself) and sighed. Oh well. There was always next year.