“I must be cruel only to be kind;
Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.” Hamlet, act 3 scene 4

“And thirdly,” said Uncle Vernon, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, “we’ve told Marge you attend St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.”
“What?” Harry yelled.
“And you’ll be sticking to that story, boy, or there’ll be trouble,” spat Uncle Vernon.
Harry sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. Aunt Marge coming for a week-long visit — it was the worst birthday present the Dursleys had ever given him, including that pair of Uncle Vernon’s old socks.
“Well, Petunia,” said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet, “I’ll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?”
“No,” said Dudley, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Vernon had finished threatening Harry. Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (p. 8). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.

Harry was about to follow but paused and let some of that Slytherin in him do his thinking. With as xenophobic as his dear family was, there was no way’d sign no matter the promise. But Vernon did just give Harry an out by telling Marge he went to a School Criminal Boys….
Too bad none of the family was looking at him as he started humming Pinky and the Brain from the old cartoons Big D used to like to watch, as he slowly walked up to his room. Seeing Hedwig and Errol, he opened the cage and told them to wait outside in the trees for the week as Mistress Barge-a-lot was on her way, and he didn’t want them hurt. He’d see to it they had fresh water and pellets in the evenings when it was safe.

He crossed his fingers and quietly called out to Dobby, shushing the hyper little thing when he arrived and handed him his vault key, with strict instructions on the potions he wanted and shooed him off.

Yes, it was going to be a fun week.

That One May Smile and Smile and Still be a Villain. Hamlet, act 1 scene 5

Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he’d done? And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn’t usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?
Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper. “Room eleven’s free, Harry,” said Fudge. “I think you’ll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I’m sure you’ll understand . . . I don’t want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you’re to be back here before dark each night. Sure you’ll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me.”
“Okay,” said Harry slowly, “but why — ?”
Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak. “Well, I’ll be off, plenty to do, you know. . . .”
“Have you had any luck with Black yet?” Harry asked. Fudge’s finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak. “What’s that? Oh, you’ve heard — well, no, not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed . . . and they are angrier than I’ve ever seen them.” Fudge shuddered slightly. “So, I’ll say good-bye.”

And with a last smile and shake of Harry’s hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry. “If you’ll follow me, Mr. Potter,” he said, “I’ve already taken your things up. . . .”
Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him. Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe — “Hedwig!” Harry gasped.
The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry’s arm.
“Very smart owl you’ve got there,” chuckled Tom. “Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there’s anything you need, Mr. Potter, don’t hesitate to ask.” Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (p. 18-19). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.

“Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.” Hamlet: Polonius, act 1 scene 3

Harry stopped him, “Tom, what did the ministry pay for?”
Tom looked uncomfortable, “Ah Harry….”
Harry looked at him over his glasses much like McGonagall did when she wanted an answer.
“Nothing, they had me put it on your Gringotts tab.”
He nodded, “And will act like I owe them a favor for the gracious favor I bet.
“If I am paying for the room, I’ll want something not quite so grand and meals separate, as I expect to eat in the alley a lot. And for you to open either open your laundry facilities for me to do my own or show me where I can do them in the alley and not charge me for that either.”
Tom looked abashed, “But Harry, the Minister said you weren’t s’pose to leave the alley and the only place for you to do your laundry is down the muggle block from ‘er.”
“Well, the way I see it, if I’m paying for my own keep that means as long as I check in when I come and go, the Minister has no say in it. If he wanted a say, then he pays for it.”