A/N: Hello! Thanks for stumbling about my story! Please stick around!

This story is basically 26 lessons Harry Potter learned from the Dursleys. One chapter for each letter. If you have any ideas for words to represent these letters, please tell me! And if you have time to beta someone, but you don't know who, you can beta me! (I also kinda need it!)

A is for afterthought

The day Harry Potter was dropped off at number four, Privet Drive, was a day that was going to stay with him forever. The green lights, the horrific screams, the crying, the gasps. There was smoke in the air, and everyone in Godric's Hollow only just coming outside to see what happened. People crying, people shouting, people looking ashamed at the small spark of hope that has ignited in them. That You-Know-Who was dead.

You see, most people don't know this (besides the lone witches and wizards that studied small children), but most babies remembered more than they thought they did. Off course, they, like full grown adults, didn't remember everything. Harry Potter did not remember the smell of his mother's perfume, nor the colour of his old broom. He did not remember the color of the mantle piece in the kitchen, nor the grey owl that arrived with post every morning.

But the horrific scene of the darkest lord in modern history bursting the door open and killing his parents was a day that Harry Potter was going to remember forever, stowed in the deepest darkest part of his young mind, waiting to be unleashed when he's the most vulnerable; in his sleep.

So there he slept, on the doorstep of number four, through the windy November night, trying to keep the demons away. Trying to fight them off. There he slept until the sun came up, and there he lay until the booming voice of another child woke Harry up.

It was a horrible sound to wake up to. Low and deep, yet high and shrill. Harry Potter was thankful; his nightmares seemed to become worse and worse. And so yes, Harry was thankful now. What he did not know was that he encountered his cousin Dudley for the first time.

Out of the first few moments of Harry Potter's new life, he made many new forever-memories. His new family looming on top of him, all with purple faces and smoke coming out of their ears. He was dropped into a tiny room filled with cleaning supplies in it- his new bedroom for the next decade or so. Yells and arguments that made his skin boil. Oh, he he just wanted some sleep. And more so, he wanted the safe feeling of a hug from his parents.

That first night wasn't the greatest. Harry Potter, (as Uncle Vernon continuously pointed out for the next month) would not "SHUT UP!". The broom cupboard was hot and sticky- how young Harry desired fresh air.

And that's where Harry Potter slept for the next ten years. Where he learned to read; where he learned to control pain; where he talked to himself, and drew pictures on bits of old newspapers. And through all these challenges, one of the worst, one of the very worst, was being an afterthought.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry Potter woke up yet again with pounding on the door and the smell of breakfast wafting through the small cracks in his cupboard. For the millionth time, he wished his life would change; that someone would break down the door and take him away. To be loved and cherished as much as his Aunt and Uncle cherished Dudley. For someone to whisk him away from his nightmare, and return to that safe, warm place with two indistinguishable people he thought were his parents.

He put on his socks as a stone dropped in his stomach. Okay, that was normal. He was used to the sinking feeling of dread that climbed out of his throat every time he was forced to face the Dursleys. But today was worse. Much, much worse. Today a stone did not sink into the pit of his stomach, it was a dinosaur egg. His fingers were not twitching as he struggled to think of an excuse to stay inside, they shook. He did not feel hot with fright of the day in front of him, he sweated.

He put that out of his mind. Nothing to worry about. You're just nervous that it's the last day of term. He told himself. So he hurriedly put on his sweater- something he only learned how to do a few weeks ago; he was still very proud- and opened the door. Immediately, the smell of eggs and bacon hit him full force. Instantaneously, his mouth watered. He was hungry, and he didn't get dinner the night before.

But Harry knew what to do. He would not sit down at the table and watch the telly. He would not get served his breakfast with a "Good morning, Harry! How did you sleep?". He was not going to get asked about his dreams, and about his nightmares, and how did you feel?

Harry Potter learned from a very early age that he was not going to be treated like everyone else. Harry Potter realised very quickly that it was do or die on this household, or at least, for him. It was clean the table, or get locked up. It was wead the garden, or get starved. It was dust Dudley's bedroom for the fifth time that week of suffer the consequences.

So Harry cooked. Harry cleaned. Harry mopped, and wead and cleaned the car. And Harry didn't abject. It was do or die.

So when Aunt Petunia ordered him to finish breakfast, he finished breakfast. And he did it without complaint. And he was rewarded with the scraps. It was better than yesterday, at least. Yesterday he only got half of the scraps, thought there were close to none anyway. So Harry ate his breakfast, forgetting the dinosaur egg the was already in his stomach.

It was Friday, his least favourite day. For one, he was facing a whole two days with nothing but chores and Dudley, and for another, it was gym, first period. Most of his fellow classmates loved gym; it was like recess, they said. But in gym you can't run away from things that scare you. In gym, you can't keep to yourself and try to stay out of peoples' line of sight. In gym, you're forced to partner up with people who don't want anything to do with you, or, more precisely, they want nothing to do with Dudley.

A student was missing, however, so Harry Potter got to partner up with the teacher, which wasn't half so bad. They practiced passing basket balls, which Harry found to be fascinating. He liked catching much better than passing, though. And as he concentrated at catching the ball (which was gold, for some reason, though Harry liked it better that way), the weight in his stomach almost disappeared.

It was after recess when he had maths, which happened to be a rather pleasant experience. He got partnered up with a girl named Kate, a girl that seemed to excel all of her classes. She was especially great at maths.

They got a worksheet to complete together, which wasn't only embarrassing by the fact that Harry didn't know how to do at least a third, but meant the class had to read aloud their answers, which, again, proved difficult.

Everyone told the class the answer for their assigned questions, when suddenly, Mrs. Brown called on Harry Potter.

"Alright, Harry, readout question sixteen, please."

The next time his nerves returned was just after lunch. His second grade teacher was placing brown envelopes in front of the students, with names and the date on top. Harry knew what this meant. It happened every time before a long break (Harry hates those) and they show his family how stupid he is.

(He was never actually allowed to look at them, his uncle and aunt kept them on top of the refrigerator, but he believed them.)

It was then, when his teacher told them that they were not to read their grades before their parents, that Harry's Dinosaur egg returned.

He walked home from school, though he could probably ride home with Dudley. He wanted a minute to deal with the hours ahead of him, which wasn't the best thing to think of.

So Harry went home a different pathway, one he hoped no one knew about. It took him through a bunch of dense vegetation and thick mud until you could hardly see the lines of perfectly lined houses of his neighbourhood.

It was then when he did something he didn't think he's ever done before- he disobeyed an order. He deterred his walk to a small path that most people in Little Surrey didn't talk about, not that many people knew about it, anyway.

If you were to look down upon the continent of Europe, in a place called little Surrey, on a small rock on an edge on a tiny cliff, you would find Harry Potter. An ecstatic Harry Potter.

Harry Potter skimmed his report card almost hungrily- he was holding solid proof against everything his Aunt and Uncle told him, yet everything that he told himself.

He eyes eagerly read the paper; his brain moving faster than his eyes, desperate for more.

What Harry Potter didn't realise, was that this piece of paper in his hand was going to clear a lot of things up for him, things that he didn't even know were possible.

His eyes skimmed the following words:

Student: Harry Potter

Grade: 2

Teacher: Elizabeth D. Brown

The following reports are based of of your child's' skill level. These grades are decided on by your child's teacher.

Maths: B+

Literacy: B+

Science/Social Studies: C+

Health/Gym: C

Art/Music: A-

This proved it, didn't it? Wasn't the moment where Harry Potter understood that he was more than capable of succeeding? Wasn't this the moment that he understood that he was an afterthought?

But no, the moment when Harry Potter came to these realisations was later that day, in an unfortunately less comfortable place.

It was when Harry Potter was sitting outside the halls of his cousin's bedroom when Harry Potter finally understood. His Aunt was reading his cousin a book, (Green Eggs and Ham). Everyone knew that that book was for kids younger than Dudley. Or, at least, Harry did, though he didn't say anything, he valued his life!

It was when his cousin asked his mother what he was going to get for his birthday, when they planned the whole day, then and there, was when Harry Potter realised that he was, indeed, an afterthought.

Or, more specifically, when Harry Potter himself was mentioned briefly in their conversations, when Harry's heart soared at the foolish thought that maybe he was going to go to the water park with them…

But no, the by passing comment was made on when they should drop off Harry Potter at Mrs. Figgs's house, and, (this got both Dudley and his mother laughing) if they should pick him up when the day was finished at all!

So yes, that was the day when Harry Potter learned that he was an afterthought. Though really, he realised, a relative of his parents were going to come to whisk him away anyhow, weren't they?

Life could be worse, he realised.

And Harry Potter was going to see how worse it was going to be…

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