Oh, my dears, I have writer's block likewhoa. And so I am letting myself write drabbles, because at least it's something. And uploading, because once more with the 'at least it's something.' And I think this'll go in chronological order, starting in the summer and possibly going into time at Hogwarts, but there's not going to be anything resembling a plot or anything. 'Cause, y'know, drabble of desperation.
Yep.
Also, the chapter titles'll be taken from assorted songs and poems and stuff. Therefore, none of them are mine. And while we're at it, neither is HP. Go me and my random disclaimer-ness.
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The boy is quiet this summer. Vernon doesn't give it a second thought – simply claims that he's finally learned to respect his elders. About time, and Petunia smiles and nods in agreement. There's certainly no point in pressing the issue with him, after all.
She sits inside with a glass of iced tea and watches as Harry weeds the garden. He had agreed to it without protest, simply mumbling an indecipherable reply and disappearing outside. She's grown accustomed to putting up with his stubbornness – with exasperatingly strong-minded parents like his, what else could have been expected? – and to see it disappear is peculiar.
She turns from the window, and pointedly does not wonder what goes on during his school years.