A little boy, no older than 5, wanders around the forest. His raven-black, messy hair half-covers a scar on his forehead. A pair of broken glasses dangles of his nose, occasionally drawing blood because of the sharp glass. His clothes, if you call them clothes, are basically rags. His shoes are nowhere to be seen. As we watch, he trips over a root on the ground and falls, grazing his knees. Why is he in this forest, you think? Where are his parents? Why, Harry Potter has no parents...
Lets take a little look in his past, shall we?
" Get up! Get up! It's time for breakfast, you little creep! Get up! "
a consistent rapping enters Harry's dream. He mumbles and turns over on the hard, wooden floor.
" UP! "
the door is flung open and a hand grabs his collar, dragging him out of the cupboard - for that is where this unfortunate boy has to sleep. Blearily, he opens his eyes, just as he is thrown into the kitchen. The lock on the door clicks.
" And don't you dare let our breakfast burn, boy! "
comes the last, threatening comment and his aunt's footsteps gradually fade away. For that, ladies and gentlemen, was the imposing and-not-so-nice figure of Harry's aunt. She is bony and her face makes her look like a horse. Her neck is twice as long as a normal human, witch makes you wonder whether her husband is a giraffe. But no, here he comes, and trust me when I tell you he looks more like a walrus. No neck, extremely fat, big bushy mustache that only makes his bright purple face more pronounced.
" BOY! Are the eggs done yet? "
he bellows, though it was clear that poor Harry hadn't even started. He was still lying on the floor, where his aunt had thrown him.
" Sowwy Uncle! Iw'll do it now, Uncle! "
Harry picks himself off the floor and toddles, as fast as his little feet can carry him, towards the stove. Next to the stove, there is a little footstool, witch Harry uses to get to the stove-top. Even with it, he can barley reach. 15 minutes later, two dirty frying pans are in the sink and the Dursley's breakfast is sitting on the table. But where is the little raven-haired, emerald eyed boy? I'm sad to say that he had been sent back to his cupboard without any breakfast.
This is how a typical morning at the Dursleys would go for Harry, and then, he would be made to do chores all day, from garden-weeding to window-washing. Finnaly, at 5:00 o'clock, if he has finished his chores, he would be allowed to go outside, but he had to be back at the house at 7 or he got no meals for 2 days. Then the next, horrible day started all over again. But Harry dared not complain - the threat of staying in his cupboard for 10 days straight was too great.