Yeah. This ones lame. Or at least I think so...have other fun ones coming up. So excited!

THIS IS A ONE SHOT OF A SERIES OF "DELETED SCENES" FROM ALL THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS.

Obviously I am going to start with the Sorcerers Stone.

~*~

Illusions

Harry Potter sat at the bottom step of number four, of Private Drive, Surrey. He had heard his uncle Vernon talking about what they were going to be buying and doing for his cousin, Dudley's, birthday. Last year, he had remembered many of the presents that had sat in the corner of his room, giving him only enough room to fall asleep sitting up. For weeks he had been forced to stare at the unwrapped presents until one day, while Dudley was out, Harry was forced to wrap every last present himself.

This year they had stored all the presents upstairs in the attic, because thankfully, most were too big to even think about putting his his closet of a room. Dudley, as he did every year, found all of the presents this year as he did last year, only this time it was before Harry had wrapped them the first time.

Now it was only a few days away.

"Potter!"

Harry jumped up and quickly opened and closed the door to his room and ran out to the living room where his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sat on the couch staring at him in awareness that he had arrived.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

He pointed his chubby finger toward the entrance to the attic. "I want you to go downstairs, get all of Dudley's presents, and wrap them all up here."

Harry slumped his shoulders. They were going to make him bring down from the attic, where he had put them, all the presents into the living room so that they could watch him. Then they would order him to take them all downstairs so that Dudley wouldn't see all of them wrapped.

"And you better wrap them perfect for our little Dudders...or I'll have you rip off all the paper and do it all over again." His Aunt Petunia sat sipping tea from a small cup that sat in her long bony hands.

Harry turned and made his way through the house and up into the attic.

It took him nearly ten minutes to bring them all down into the living room, which involved a long lecture on how much of an idiot he was and how he must have inherited it from his mother. Then he was yelled at after being forced to bring down five more presents in one trip and tripping on the bottom stairs where they fell to the ground.

"It's got to be that Potter blood running through you!" His Uncle Vernon hissed from behind his fourth piece of cake.

His Aunt laughed and nodded, sneering. "Yes, did you know that as he made his way to the altar he tripped and landed right onto my mother's lap. He was a clumsy fool."

Harry's nostrils flared and his tight grip constricted until the paper in his had wrinkled beyond any repair. He could taste the texture of blood on the inside from his mouth. Then he felt his heart starting to beat faster and faster until he could hear it in his ears.

Suddenly there was a snap and the glass broke in front of him. Shards from the screen of Dudley's suppose to be computer broke and fell to the bottom of the box it was in. Then to his left he saw the glass case snap and collapse on the the floor, thousands of shards falling onto the carpet and screams erupting in front of him.

"Potter!"

Harry held up his hands. "I didn't do it!"

Vernon pointed at him and took him by the collar of his shirt. "You're lying!"

"I am not. The case was feet from me! I wasn't touching it!"

He growled and dragged Harry to his closet. "You are going to stay in here until I tell you to and then you'll clean up that...mess and put the rest of the presents!" He slammed the door in Harry's face and peered into the vent. "No dinner tonight, I think. That'll help you learn!"

Harry sat and let his head fall back against the wall behind him, getting comfortable for the long night ahead. Then again...it was two more presents that that spoiled Dudley wouldn't be getting.

A few days later, as Harry was making breakfast, he smiled on the inside as Dudley yelled at his parents about not having enough presents.

His punishment of one meal was worth the demeaning yelling of his Aunt and Uncle bending toward their twelve year olds wishes.

~*~

Boring, I know. Can't wait to give out the good ones.