The ruined boa exhibit
Nearly ten years had passed since the morning the Dursleys found the twins on their front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. Sun peeked into the same living room through the same curtains landing on the same furniture which stood there that fateful night. Only sign of any time passing at all were pictures standing all around. There were quite a few more frames put up and instead of them showing a round, pink dumpling in different coloured hats there was a large, blond boy riding his first bicycle, playing a video game with his father or him being hugged and kissed by his mother. No indication that there was anyone else living in the house beside the happy three.
Yet the Potter twins were still there, huddled closely together on their bed. One would think that they were both asleep with how no sounds came through the door, but that wasn’t the case. While Harry indeed breathed soft and deep still lost somewhere in dreamlands known only to himself, his sister was wide awake, listening to every sound of the house. She has always been an early riser which was a cause of many unpleasantries for the girl.
As she and Harry weren’t allowed to roam the house without supervision, they had to learn to entertain themselves in the small space of their cupboard. Ursa didn’t want to wake her brother all the time because he got all grumpy when she did. So the only solution was to come up with her little games or let her mind wander around little facts she read in the school library.
She was playing one of those games right that moment called ‘Limbs in the cupboard’. It’s a very easy game if you know your maths - you count how many limbs there are in the room. So recounting all the interesting species of arachnids, she stared at the “ceiling” counting spiders and occasionally greeting silently the ones she named.
She just spotted Ferdinand the Seventh (one of his legs was missing hence the name) when she heard light thumps coming from above which could only mean one thing. Aunt Petunia just got up.
Adding up her tally to 71 limbs in the cupboard she delicately, but masterly untangled herself from Harry’s embrace and sat up on the edge of their cot. When Mrs Dursley unlocked the small door the girl quietly opened it.
“Ah, you’re awake. To the kitchen then.” Her lips pressed together in distaste at the sight of the awfully baggy, grey T-shirt her niece had on. At least the thin cream rope tied loosely around the girl’s waist made it look more like a dress.
“Of course, Aunt Petunia.” They made a few toasts in silence and moved onto making bacon. The woman took the frying pan out and put it on the stove.
“Take out bacon and eggs,” Mrs Dursley snapped, leaving the kitchen. A few moments later the girl heard her shrill voice and cringed. Aunt must be in a bad mood today.
“Up! Get up! Now!”
Harry woke up with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.
“Up!” she screeched. Why was she so unpleasant today? Harry heard her walking up the stairs. That probably meant Ursa was already working on the breakfast and the lack of warmth next to him confirmed that. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It was a good one. There had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before.
But enough with lying in bed. He lazily got up and went to join his sister so they could enjoy the precious little time without those who despise them hovering above. As he entered the kitchen he saw her moving bacon on the pan with a very concentrated expression. Naturally, he did the only logical thing to do in that situation. He started tickling her.
Giggles filled the air in an instance. Her elbows immediately went to her sides desperate to block the offending touches. She squirmed awkwardly to shake her twin off, being careful not to spill the meat.
“Harry stop,” she struggled to take a breath deep enough to say the words. “Stop! I can’t burn it! It’s Dudley’s birthday!” The last sentence made Harry stop at once and a groan forced its way out of his lips. “I know, I know. Could you wash the eggs for me?”
“Sure.” He croaked out and got to it.
Dudley’s birthday – how could have he forgotten? How he missed the table that was almost wholly hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents was beyond him. It looked as though Dudley got the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley’s favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn’t often catch him. They didn’t look like it, but both he and Ursa were very fast.
Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but they had always been small and skinny for their age. The fact that all they had to wear were old clothes of Dudley’s and Dudley was about four times bigger than they were only amplified their small size. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.
Ursa didn’t need glasses and Harry really liked that he had a clear view of her eyes. They were hazel, but stopping at that would be an outrageous injustice to their beauty. They were a landscape of light blues and greens and whoever looked close enough would also notice a gold rim around her pupils. If he were to choose one word to describe them he would choose ‘magical’. But his twin wouldn’t hear him say they were the most beautiful eyes he had seen. She would insist that if he looked closer at his own he would notice that they were just as pretty. A liar, that one.
The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He liked to think that its light lines made him look cooler. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.
“In the car crash when your parents died,” she had said with a tight expression on her face. “And don’t ask questions,” she had added hurriedly.
Don’t ask questions – that was the first rule for a life with the Dursleys. Any questions would be met with hostility or pain depending on how freakish Uncle Vernon deems them.
Speaking of the man, he entered the kitchen as Ursa was turning over the bacon.
“Comb your hair!” he barked, by way of a morning greeting to Harry. “Don’t you dare burn it, girl!” he spit venomously at the girl, who wisely chose to just nod compliantly.
It was as if Uncle Vernon’s life-mission was to make their life a living hell. Every glance at them was always at least annoyed or he skimmed over them as if they were nothing more than specks of dust. Harry didn’t know which one he preferred.
The walking walrus also loved to complain about everything he didn’t think was normal enough, which meant that Harry’s hair was a topic that regularly came up. That led to being given more haircuts than all the boys in his school put together had. Harry really didn’t like getting them and he most definitely wasn’t making his hair look like that on purpose (counter to what Uncle Vernon insisted he did), it simply grew that way – all over the place. He envied his twin for her pretty waves that weren’t too messy even just after waking up.
Ursa was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Their cousin (much like their uncle) had a large, pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes and smooth, thick, blond hair. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel – the twins agreed that Dudley looked more like a pig in a wig.
His sister was putting the kitchen tools away and cleaning them while Harry took the food to the limited space left on the table. Their cousin spent that time counting his presents just as every previous year. His face fell.
“Thirty-six,” he said, looking up at his mother and father. “That’s two less than last year.”
“Darling, you haven’t counted Auntie Marge’s present, see, it’s here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy.”
“All right, thirty-seven then,” said Dudley, going red in the face. Oh. That is going to escalate quickly into a huge Dudley tantrum. Harry began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.
Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger too, because she said quickly, “And we’ll buy you another two presents while we’re out today. How’s that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?”
Dudley thought for a long moment. It looked like hard work. Ursa managed to eat her share of food during that moment. Finally he said slowly, “So I’ll have thirty … thirty …”
“Nine.” All heads flew to the girl who blurted out the answer. She suddenly realised her mistake and bowed her head. Her eyes stared onto her knees as she gripped the material there in tension. Harry cautiously turned his fearful eyes to Uncle Vernon’s face ready to run for cover with his twin in case of an outburst.
The man has always been more prone to punishing them than Aunt Petunia, sometimes in a bad mood jumping at any opportunity to blow off some steam and he hated when either of the twins did something that even slightly implied Dudley was dumber. The boy very clearly was and Harry wanted to say it to his face sometimes, but Ursa always managed to somehow stop him, which Harry was very grateful for. Did she have some kind of sixth sense about that?
Either way, there was really no predicting what Uncle Vernon would do now. He should be in a good mood today. Maybe it will end with screaming? It should if Ursa won’t say anything more, but she looked a bit dazed with fear. To Harry’s growing horror, his sister repeated herself in an almost inaudible shaky whisper. “It’s thirty-nine.”
“Yes,” Aunt Petunia cut in courtly, turning her gaze back to her child. ”Thirty-nine, sweetums. Now, dig in before it gets cold, Duddikins.” she said to him.
“Oh.” Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed his fork. He stared intently at his plate, pondering the offered insufficient-number-of-gifts solution for a few seconds. He finally muttered “All right then.” and started eating.
Uncle Vernon chuckled, seemingly forgetting the little incident.
“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled the boy’s hair.
At that moment the telephone rang cutting through the remaining tension. Aunt Petunia went to answer it while the rest of occupants in the room watched Dudley unwrap his presents. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back, looking both annoyed and worried.
“Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take them.” She jerked her head in the twins’ direction.
Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap and Ursa sat a little straighter. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for a day of fun and every year, they were left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. Ursa didn’t feel that strongly about the smell because she could play with the remaining pets freely. At the moment she looked concerned. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg too, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.
“Vernon.” The man finally stopped looking furiously at the Potters as if they’d planned this and gave his wife his full attention. “What now?”
“We could phone Marge?” he suggested after a while.
“Don’t be silly. I know she sometimes wants the girl’s help, but she hates the boy.”
Yeah, the Dursleys often talked about them like that. It was as if they weren’t in the room… Or rather more like as if they were something very nasty. Yes, that’s more like it. Quite easy to notice when some of Uncle Vernon’s favourite nicknames were ‘parasites’, ‘waste of space’ or ‘freaks’.
“What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?”
“On holiday in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia.
“You could just leave us here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer and Ursa would have time to go through that book about stars with good light). The walrus looked as though he just swallowed a lemon.
“And come back and find the house in ruins?” he snarled, "As if I'd give you a chance." Harry was about to mouth off the stinky man, but Ursa's sixth sense was faster and she put a gentle hand on his knee. He swallowed his comment, sourly regretting he couldn't trash the man.
“Or you could take us with you?” Ursa suggested carefully. A good minute of silence fell upon them after that.
“I suppose we could take them to the zoo,” said Aunt Petunia very slowly, “… and leave them in the car …”
“That car’s new, those little menaces are not sitting in it alone!”
Just then, the doorbell rang and a moment later Mrs Dursley was greeting Mrs Polkiss and her son Piers. He was Dudley’s best friend - a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them.
After a lot of thinking, contemplating and discussing in whispers their aunt and uncle gave up. They couldn’t think of anything else and so all four children sat crammed at the back of the Dursleys’ car, the black haired twins squished on one seat. Harry could feel Ursa practically vibrating with excitement next to him. And how could he tell her to stop squirming when he knows just how much she is into all the animals she reads about? Today she finally gets to see them in person. Besides, who is he to judge? He is pretty excited about his first time at the zoo too. Their mood wasn’t dampened even by Uncle Vernon’s threats. He pulled them aside before getting into the car.
“I’m warning you,” he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to theirs looking from Harry to Ursa and back to Harry on and on, “I’m warning you now, parasites – any funny business, anything at all – and you’ll be in that cupboard or I’ll drag you down to the basement to rot till Christmas.”
“We won’t do anything,” Ursa promised. She must have said it too excitedly, because he narrowed his small eyes in suspicion. She forced her enthusiasm down and added “...really.”
In answer Uncle Vernon only grimaced and stomped to the car. It didn’t really matter what either of them said. No one ever believed them anyway which was very unfortunate, because strange, unexplainable things happened around the Potters all the time.
For instance, when Aunt Petunia had also had enough of Harry’s disaster of a haircut she grabbed some scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald. She left only his fringe “to cover that awful scar”. The twins spent half the night brainstorming about how to avoid the humiliation at school that Harry would surely suffer, but came up with nothing. After some restless sleep they woke up only to find that his hair grew back to their previous length. He had been given three days to spend shackled in the basement, even though they both had tried to explain that they couldn’t explain how it had grown back so quickly.
Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force Ursa into a hideous old jumper of Dudley’s (brown with orange bobbles). The harder she tried to pull it over the girl’s head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a glove puppet, but certainly wouldn’t fit any child. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to the twins’ great relief, Uncle Vernon just forbade Ursa to have dinner for “fighting with her aunt’s generous offer”.
One of Harry’s worst punishments he had gotten for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley’s gang had been Potter-hunting as they like to call it and the siblings ran separate ways to try to lose their tail. When they almost cornered Harry, as much to Harry’s surprise as anyone else’s, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from their school’s headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. While he was being dragged down to the basement he shouted at Uncle Vernon that all he’d tried to do was jump behind the big bins outside the kitchen doors. His explanations were in vain as he still got a solid beating, no meals for three days and two weeks down there. Harry was very grateful that Ursa sneaked him food when the Dursleys were asleep those first three days. After a heated discussion, the twins agreed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump. It could have happened, right?
The most recent big phenomenon took place the previous month. Ursa, as usual on Thursdays, was sitting in the school library minding her business when Harriet Sheldon - the most obnoxious girl in their class - came to bother her. When she later recounted the events to Harry she skipped over what the girl said, but it must have been awful as Ursa, who is already used to insults, snapped. She very proudly repeated that her response was: “With all the nonsense you're blabbering around and bothering everybody like a persistent, everlasting itch, I’m astonished that you aren’t itchy yourself. You certainly deserve it more than anyone else you perfidious, daft Harlot, so turn around, leave me alone and go to hell if you haven’t understood the first time.” (Harry was very proud of having such an eloquent sister). Unfortunately, the classmate started itching just after that and took the black-haired girl’s words as an admission of tossing itching powder into her clothes. (Ursa denied it to him, so she couldn’t have done it - she always shared her mischief with him) They argued more, leaving Ursa furious and when Harlot was going away a bookcase tilted and books fell on her head. The girl spun the tale to their teachers so that his sister looked like the oppressor and no one wanted to even hear her version out. Not even her reasoning that the bookcases were screwed to the floor stopped them from calling in the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon was in rage so bad and beat Ursa so severely that Harry wanted to sneak to the phone to call a hospital. He got locked in a cupboard before he got the chance to and only after pleading for the rest of the week he was allowed by Aunt Petunia to see his twin in the basement. She was a painting of violet, red and green, but nowhere near the nightmare she was while being dragged to the cold room. Harry wondered if it was just his eyes playing horrifying tricks on him, but he would have sworn her leg and arm were bent oddly that moment. It was by far Uncle Vernon’s scariest outburst.
It was even worse than when Ursa got accused of setting a mean girl’s things on fire. It’s of course untrue, but the Potters already had a nasty reputation of troublemakers and the other girl was convinced of Ursa’s guilt. The girl spent the whole day whispering provocations just behind his twin’s back and Ursa turned around and told her that she would burn in hell if she kept up her attitude. That exact moment the intense sun must have been strangely amplified by the window, because the girl’s notebook caught on fire. Thanks to Harry’s quick intervention the twin’s desk and things stayed undamaged, but it couldn’t be said about the desk behind theirs that the girl was sitting at. The Dursleys had to pay for the damage and to put it lightly - their uncle didn't like it one bit. Ursa spent the whole next month in pain, with only one semi-solid meal a day and buried under what seemed like all the chores in the house. Harry managed to sneak a helping hand once in a while, but between school and the walrus’ watchful gaze it was a hard task. He truly hated that walking bag of fat.
Things like those coincidences happened quite often, but today nothing was going to go wrong. They were going to enjoy the zoo even if it had to be in the awful company of Dudley and Piers.
This morning Uncle Vernon picked motorbikes to complain about - courtesy of a biker that drove past them roaring rather loudly.
“I had a dream about a motorbike,” said Harry, suddenly remembering this morning. “It was flying.”
Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beetroot with a moustache, “MOTORBIKES DON’T FLY, YOU DUMB RAT!” And he faced the road again.
Dudley and Piers sniggered.
“I know they don’t,” said Harry, his mood deteriorating again. “It was only a dream.” He felt his hand being squeezed lightly.
“I think it’s a very nice dream,” his sister said so quietly that it only reached his ears. She flashed him such a warm smile it was impossible not to mirror it. She always managed to make him feel better, but he still wished he hadn’t said anything.
If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than the twins’ asking questions, it was their talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn’t, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon – they seemed to think they might get dangerous ideas.
It was a very sunny Saturday and the tour around the zoo was going great. Ursa happily, but quietly rumbled to her brother all about the animals they saw. Harry didn’t have a heart to tell her it was annoying. At the gorilla exhibit they joked about the monkey looking remarkably like Dudley, just not blond (it had them almost rolling on the ground with laughter). They even got ice cream! To be honest, it was a cheap lemon ice lolly, they got it by accident and had to share… But a treat nonetheless! By lunch-time Piers and Dudley got bored of animals and the group headed for the zoo restaurant where Ursa tried her luck getting them a meal. After a few very subtle, but well chosen comments, she caused the birthday boy to have a tantrum. Now he wanted a bigger sized meal, so Uncle Vernon bought him another one. Just as planned, the raven-haired duo was allowed to finish the first one. The day was going amazing!
And then they went to the reptile house. By Dudley and Piers’ wishes the group made their way to huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Here Ursa’s mouth seemed to move non-stop with whispered fun facts and characteristics of the creatures in showcases. If her muttering all day hasn't already tired him out, Harry would have been impressed that she doesn’t need any more than a glance at the contents of the glassy cages to know which reptile lives there. The amount of her gushing over animals was overwhelming.
Dudley quickly found the largest snake. It was tremendous.
“Boa constrictor,” Ursa whispered in awe, surely meaning its Latin name just as much as the English one. There were stars in her eyes as she admired it - this time silently. Harry inwardly thanked the snake for shutting her up with its magnificence or whatever she was seeing in it. He loved her dearly, but that didn’t mean he had enough brainpower to deal with her overenthusiastic mode. Nobody had.
They were standing a bit to the side as Dudley glued his nose to the point of glass closest to the creature. He stared and stared waiting for it to move, but it seemed that it was asleep.
“Make it move,” he whined at his father.
Uncle Vernon rapped on the glass with his knuckles. “Move,” he ordered, but the snake didn’t budge. Ursa frowned as if it was her nap that was being disturbed.
“Move!” Dudley copied him with more vigour.
“He’s asleep!” the girl exclaimed, offended in the reptile’s name.
“This is boring,” Dudley moaned and shuffled away with the group.
The Potters moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. After a little while his sister gave a big sigh. Harry looked at her and noticed there was a bittersweet smile on her lips. What made her change her attitude so fast? Well, it isn’t exactly rare for her to do that, but why now? As if hearing his thoughts she spoke softly:
“It’s a little silly, but I feel guilty about being so happy here. It’s sad that they have to lay here all day. It has to be really boring. No company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass.” Harry hummed in agreement.
“It’s even worse than us.” he remarked and she chuckled.
“Sure, our only visitor is Aunt Petunia and she doesn’t wake us up so rudely.”
“Speak for yourself!” he argued, but there wasn’t really any heat to it.
“Okay, okay. But she doesn’t do that every day.”
“Fair enough. And we can visit the rest of the house too.” he remarked jokingly.
“Ah yes, our cage is much larger indeed,” she joined in. “Oh, don’t forget the occasional walks we get.” He laughed. An interesting way to describe helping Aunt Petunia with groceries. “Look! He’s awake!”
Harry checked it too and yes - the snake’s beady eyes were, in fact, open. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with theirs.
”Aww, his eyes are so pretty.” Harry only managed to think ‘Are they really?’ before the snake winked. Harry stared. Then looked at Ursa to check if she had seen it too. Judging from her open mouth - yes, she had. She glanced at her brother and grinned.
“I think he likes the compliment.” The twins looked around to see if anyone else was watching. They weren’t, so they looked at each other and then winked at the snake too. It jerked its head towards Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave the twins a look that said quite plainly: “I get that all the time.” Ursa smiled apologetically.
“Sorry for that. Our cousin is quite self-centred.”
“Understatement. I would say ‘egoistic and very spoiled’.” Harry said to his sister. He gets that Dudley isn’t as obnoxious to her as he is to Harry, but she should stop softening the blow. He turned back to their reptile companion. “It must be really annoying when everybody that comes by does it.”
The snake nodded vigorously.
“Wow. This is so awesome. We have never talked with a snake before, much less a boa constrictor.” Oh no. Here comes the overexcited mode again. “So where are you from? Argentina? Or maybe Mexico?” The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. They peered at it. “Oooh, Brazil.” She read on and her face fell. “Bred in the zoo… So you’ve never even been there?” As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind the twins made the whole three jump.
“DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT IT’S DOING!”
Ursa only had time to register the thumps of Dudley’s footsteps behind them before she was pushed away from Harry and falling to the concrete floor. Landing on her butt, she saw Dudley pack a punch into Harry’s ribs with a “Out of the way, you,” and her brother, caught by surprise, fell hard too.
‘Now you’ve done it!’ her mind screamed. She has always been patient, but today - the day she was so determined to keep amazing from the moment they got into the car - she was not going to tolerate this pratt's violence. ‘To Hades with “Let’s be nice to the birthday boy” plan! He and his obnoxious rat of a friend are gonna know their place!’
What came next happened faster than a blink. The lamp over the four kids exploded. Branches in the boa’s tank snapped and fell to the terrarium’s floor. Piers and Dudley leapt back with howls of horror, but neither of them was frightened by those two happenings. What caught their attention was the fact that the glass that was just before their noses seconds ago vanished. The great snake was out in moments, people were running for the exits and their screams filled the building. As the boa constrictor slithered past Harry, Ursa saw his eyebrows rise in bewilderment.
Later she would hear the shocked “But- But the glass- Where did the glass go?!” coming from the distressed reptile house keeper. The zoo director’s constant apologies to Aunt Petunia over tea also reached her ears as well as Dudley’s and Piers’s exaggerated stories in the car of how the snake almost killed them.
‘Serves them right,’ she would think about the scare those technical accidents gave them. Honestly, the green in the tank should be kept sturdy, not run down to the point of falling apart at boa’s slightest movement. The faulty lamp was more forgivable. But she kept thinking about the glass. She was roughly pulled back into reality once Piers calmed down enough to say, “Ursa was talking to it, weren’t you, Ursa?” She instantly leapt for her brother’s mouth knowing he would try to share the blame. With her palm securely holding in his “I was too.” she mustered the most convincing, cheerful “Yeah, it was fun~” she could.
Uncle Vernon barely managed to hold off his fury until Piers was out of the house and on his way home. He closed the door after the boy and his mother and slowly, oh so very slowly turned around. His whole form trembled with rage that painted his whole face purple. Veins on his forehead were on full display and his eyes were narrowed so much that they were barely visible, but it was clear where his sight was focused.
Ursa stood just behind Harry, but took a step back at the sight of her uncle’s expression. The moment she agreed with Piers’ comment she knew there was going to be punishment. She knew there was a possibility of a slight beating and had been preparing herself mentally for it for the remainder of the way back. She knew how Uncle Vernon’s beatings felt, yet she couldn’t stop her body from shaking. This was going to hurt and she knew that, but why did Uncle look as if she did something much worse than talk with a snake?
“Dudley… up!" he managed to choke through his teeth. Their cousin obediently vanished to his room.
He took a step towards her. Harry broke and went to meet him halfway.
“Ursa wasn’t ta-”
“Out… mY… WAY!!!” Uncle Vernon pushed him out of his way by the head and her twin collided with the wall. Fat fingers closed around her throat and she felt herself being lifted as her hands flew to her uncle’s meaty wrist on instinct. Her back collided with the wall.
“No! Stop-” Harry tried to grab onto the man’s shirt, but he was stopped.
“Silence!” spit Aunt Petunia grabbing him by the hair and disappearing from Ursa’s peripheral. “Don’t even try to cover for her with lies!” The girl could barely hear her twin struggling up the stairs over the roar of blood in her ears.
The only two left in the hall were Ursa and the furious mass in front of her.
“You… little… FREAK!” drops of spit hit her face as Uncle Vernon gasped and barked the words out.
She fought against black spots that started filling her vision. If she loses consciousness Uncle Vernon will come back with even more. Her hands fought with the grip on her neck, she felt tears leak from under her squeezed eyelids. When did she close her eyes? Just as she was slipping under, the air filled her lungs again. She crashed to the floor gulping it hungrily. The peace didn’t last as the air left her again, sharp pain in her ribcage replacing it. She bit down on her lip hard to stop sounds from escaping her. Making sounds meant more pain. The point of the leather shoe dug into her abdomen again and then his heel came down on her forearm. She heard a snap and pain radiated from her forearm bringing tears to her eyes again.
The man gripped her upper arm, jerking her up with great force. Was that a pop? Why were there a thousand needles in her shoulder? God, she was dizzy. Have her legs always been trembling?
Then her world was tilting again… and it didn’t stop. It was dark here. Her hip hit something wooden. Now the needled shoulder hit it. Why was she head down? Oh. She was tumbling down the stairs. She didn’t notice when they got to the basement door. A splitting pain in the back of her head brought her back from the haze. She must have hit it on the shelf. Uncle Vernon turned on the light blinding her. His sausage-like fingers wrapped themselves on her most likely broken arm and a choked scream escaped her lips. Her arm was on fire and it got white hot when the man tightened his grip and used it to make her stand up. The sharp sting on her cheek was nothing.
“Shut up, you whimpering weakling! You thought you could exercise your freakishness right under my nose?! Think again, parasite!” He slapped her again and reached for the oh so familiar chains. “There will be no anomalies around my family! And I’m going to keep beating it out of you as I have for the last TEN YEARS!” Both cuffs clicked around her wrists. “You are a waste of space! You and your insolent twin are here only because Petunia is too kind for her own good! And I’ll tolerate only obedience! Am I clear?!” he gasped out heavily. Ursa had enough sense to nod weakly. “Good.” He straightened still purple in the face and spit on her face. The beefy man marched back up the stairs and disappeared from her sight with a slam.
It was dark and quiet again. Ursa slid shakily down the wall, silent tears spilling out. She sat down and hugged her knees to her chest with her right hand, wishing for the bliss of black to overcome her. But as if the universe hated her, unconsciousness didn’t come for a long time, forcing her thoughts to wander.
Oh, how she hated being so powerless. How she wished she had it. To make Uncle Vernon pay. To make Dudley stop listening to him. To make Aunt Petunia stop acting as if she agreed with that man's doings. To make a better environment for Harry. Aunt Petunia's subtle mercies weren't enough for that. Why can't the blonde get the backbone to make her husband stop? Ursa raged at all the factors, but she knew it wasn't this simple. She understood that Aunt Petunia also had little power over Uncle Vernon. She did. As well as she understood the woman's choice to help them very little when they were younger. Little children's honesty and weak will were a sure downfall of any attempted sneaks of help.
Ten years. Ten miserable years ever since they’d been babies and their parents had died in that car crash. The Potter girl couldn’t remember being in the car. She wondered if it had felt as awful as it did now. Sometimes, when she strained her memory during long hours in the basement or their cupboard, she came up with a strange vision. It was a dark purple sleeve she thinks and there was surely screaming and then a blinding flash of green light. She wondered what car would have such lights. And then there was the sleeve. Was that their mother's hand? She didn't know if it could have been. She didn't remember anything about their parents at all. Once in a blue moon Aunt Petunia would slip up and mention her sister, but not much could be gathered from that. Especially since she always froze just after those slip ups and then she would be mostly silent for the remainder of the day. Adding to the no-questions rule, there were also no photos of them in the house. So there was really no getting to know what kind of people they were.
When they had been younger, Ursa and Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relative coming to take them away, but it had never happened. Although the Dursleys were their only family it seemed as if very… unique strangers recognised Harry. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while they were out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. Ursa wanted to chase after him, but the weirdest thing about all these people was that it took a second of inattention for them to vanish. At school, they only had each other. Everybody knew that Dudley’s gang hated the odd Potters, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley’s gang. So really, it wasn't a surprise they adopted a phrase "Us against the world" as a way of reassuring themselves they were there for the other.
At some point during her rant of thoughts she shoved her stamped shoulder back into place and laid down, somewhat aligning her twisted break on the floor. It was torture. She laid there drained and dizzy for what felt like hours, but could have been minutes. Her head throbbed, her ribs burned, her left arm was agony. The cold from the ground seeped into her body and soon shivers ran freely up and down her spine. She became so numb she didn’t even notice when her mind finally floated into the nothingness.