-June 8th-
Prologue
The boy-who-lived, as many in the wizarding world called him though he did not know that, woke in his bed to a day, though it was still dark, he thought was going to be the same as all others. He was 5 years old and his aunt had told him yesterday that he was going to be doing yard work today.
Flashback
"Boy, the grass is getting long and there are weeds in my flowerbeds!" She yelled. "I expect you to spend tomorrow fixing that problem and that means you going to go without eating until it is finished."
"But.... but... you know I won't be able to finish it before lunch at least." Harry stumbled over the words in his shock, even though he knew he shouldn't have been shocked at what she said. This was the way it had been since he was old enough to walk. It started with dusting when uncle Vernon had found out he could. Then it was cooking when his aunt Petunia learned that he could read. They even found a stool for him to use so they wouldn't have to help him with reaching things.
"Then I expect you to hurry." Were the last words he heard from her before he decided to go to bed.
End flashback
-June 8th-
He stumbled out of his cot-like bed from under the cupboard to his stack of clothes, that were his cousin's hand-me-downs, and slipped in a pair of his old shorts which were long enough and big enough to be considered pants. They seemed to swallow him, but he knew the routine. He slipped a length of rope, which was all he had been given to use as a belt, into the shorts and then pulled on his apron that he made out of the shirt he received with the shorts.
He stumbled out, rubbing his eyes as he yawns, and made his way into the kitchen. Grabbing the eggs and bacon out of the refrigerator he strode to the counter and laid them down. He bent to open the drawer to draw out a couple of frying pans and put them onto the stovetop, after which he walked over to the side of the refrigerator to pick up his stool. He hauled it across the floor to the counter. He climbed up until he could pull a bowl from the shelf above the counter and a whisk from the carousel where it was kept. He reached over and turned on the stove and put butter in the pan so it could melt as he cracked the eggs and put the bacon in the other pan. He had just started scrambling the eggs when he heard his aunts voice from upstairs.
"Harry, where are you, you little brat?" She yelled.
"I'm in the kitchen aunt Petunia. I'm almost finished making breakfast. I'll have it on the dining room table in one second. I'm making toast." He stated as he slipped the bread in the toaster oven.
Slowly and carefully he carried the plates of eggs and bacon, bowls of fruit he had prepared the night before, and the toast, after he slipped a couple of pieces into his pocket so he wouldn't go completely with out food until dinner. After he laid the plates and bowl on the table and set the table with napkins, forks, and plates, he waited at the dining room door as Dudley, Petunia, and Vernon Dursley.
"I'm going to go and get started on the lawn while it is still cool outside. I guess I'll come in when I'm finished." He would have said more but he noticed that they weren't paying any attention to him as they started eating what he had spent the last hour creating. Deciding he would get better attention from the weeds he was going to spend the next three hours pulling, he went to the entrance hall and slipped on his shoes and a light windbreaker since he knew it would still be kind of cool since the sun had yet to fully come up.
(A/N: please read and review. this is my first story ever so please critique)