"The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well"

"Boy! Get up and get started on breakfast! I will not wait any longer! You have slept far too long!" Aunt Petunia shrieked from the kitchen.

But I was having such a good dream, it would be horrible for it to end now. Harry thought blearily, while unconsciously reaching for his very patched up glasses. I suppose I can't hide in my fantasies forever.

Harry reluctantly got up from his tiny, dusty, bloodstained cot that stood in the middle of the cupboard. Last night's 'punishment' had been worse than usual. Uncle Vernon had been fired from his job at Grunnings and as a result bought half a Liquor store and brought it home. After finishing the third bottle of scotch, Vernon had decided that this was all Harry's fault. Harry had seen this kind of talk from his uncle before, and so he knew what to expect when he heard the whale lumbering down towards the broom cupboard doubling as his bedroom.

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Harry was huddled in the deserted corner of his cupboard, patiently waiting for the beating that was sure to come. After all, his uncle's loss of a job was obviously his fault. Harry thought bitterly. At that moment, little door barely stayed on its hinges as it was ripped open violently by Vernon.

Harry couldn't help the tremors that came when he saw the murderous look on Uncle Vernon's face. He knew that Vernon would never stoop so low as murder, and in fact wouldn't even touch his face because school was starting soon, but that look made Harry wonder.

"Ungrateful little freak. You caused me to lose my job, and now you're going to pay," Vernon said seething. Vernon undid his belt, and not a moment later he was swinging it, lashing Harry with the hard leather ruthlessly. "This'll teach you not to meddle in my work," he said with a kick to Harry's legs, that were now up to his stomach doing their best to protect.

Harry stayed and endured the pain without a word. He knew nothing he could say would stop the beatings, and begging for mercy would only make it worse. So, Harry was punished late into the night. In fact, Harry wasn't sure how long he was a target for the man, for he had fell unconscious when he was thrown into the wall.

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Now every little move he made sent stabbing pains through him, but he had to deal with it if he didn't want to get screeched at by his aunt. Harry put on a new shirt as fast as he could, while not re-opening some of the wounds on his back. He then walked out of his cupboard to face the day.

"Don't you dare burn the bacon, boy, or you'll know exactly how it feels," his uncle warned to him in a low voice right before Dudley came bounding down the stairs.

"Hey, freak, where's my bacon. I don't like to wait if you know what I mean," Dudley said, trying to be threatening, but failing miserably. Harry quickly opened the pack of bacon, and began frying the strips of meat. Right after he placed them into the pan, he began working on the eggs. Every morning Harry went through this routine. Even during the school year.

Speaking of the school year, Harry could hardly wait for the new semester to come. It was the first year Harry didn't have to worry about Dudley and his gang bullying him. Sure, there was bound to be some kids who still did some Harry bashing, but it had to be better than the past few years.

Just two more months, just two more and then I won't be here nearly as much. Harry then slid the eggs and bacon onto the family's plates, and set the bread and marmalade on the table. Harry sat down and waited for his uncle to put something on his plate. Ever since he was old enough to cook breakfast, he had to wait until he was given something. If he tried to cook something for himself, or if he tried to reach for the bread without permission, he would get punished. Usually something like that wouldn't get a severe one, but he wished to avoid it nonetheless.

It wasn't until every last bit of the three eggs that were put on Vernon's plate did the man put one piece of bread on Harry's plate. He quickly muttered thanks, and began to eat the bread slowly. He had to savor it while he could, he never knew when he would get to eat again.

Once they had all gotten up and had migrated to the living room to watch some television program that was on every morning, Harry stood and began gathering the floral plates and putting them in the sink. Unfortunately for Harry, the house didn't have a dishwasher, so he had to spend at least thirty minuets every day working to get the greasy residue of the eggs and bacon off of the pans and plates.

After he was certain that there was no possible speck of food left on the plates, he went back to his cupboard to see if his aunt and uncle had put up the list yet. Every day since he could remember, there had been a list by his room stating the chores he had to do for the day before Vernon got home. If they weren't finished, he got punished. There had only been one time that he could remember in which there wasn't a list by his room, he assumed that they hadn't found anything that they needed done, so he stayed on his bed all day. That had been a huge mistake. Vernon had punished him very severely, stating that he had put a list there but the boy had thrown it away using it as an excuse not to do any work that day. That hadn't been true, but nobody tried to contradict him. That was one of the worst punishments he had ever gotten.

Harry took the list, and immediately got to work. He wasn't sure what time he was expected to be done, since his uncle had gotten fired. He soon got his answer as he was weeding the garden.

His aunt walked toward him in her usual high heel and screeched, "You have to be done by the time Vernon gets back from looking for a job. He'll be home earlier than usual, so you better hurry up."

Harry nodded his assent, and she trekked her way back inside. I will be able to get done in time as long as Dudley doesn't try to sabotage my work. Harry thought. Luckily, he heard Dudley leave the house along with Piers Polkiss with the plans of going to a movie and then lunch later.

Harry found his mind wondering to the wonderful dream he had that night. It wasn't the first time he had dreamed something of the sort. The past couple of weeks had tales of wizards and a place called Hogwarts. Harry thought it was strange he could dream such fantasies, but he loved it all the same. Like in most people's dreams, they held people he already knew. Ron was a boy he had seen around school, and he was often picked on for his big family and his father's low income. Malfoy was in fact a boy that had often picked on Harry, but didn't like Dudley either. The only people he didn't remember from everyday life was Hermione Granger. She was somebody that, as far as he could tell, his mind had completely made up. Oh, how he wished Hermione was real, and that Ron could actually be a friend, but he knew he was destined to be alone. Sure, Dudley wouldn't be hindering him, but that didn't mean that people would like him any more than they did now.

Harry had gotten so caught up in his thoughts, that he didn't realize that he had been dusting the same spot for about five minuets. Harry, realizing what he had done, quickly went to the next shelf, he had to get done before Vernon came home.

-1,385 words