Ok people! You might have heard this prompt before because I found it in another really great story that was discontinued. So this is my way of re-writing that story! Now on with the story!
Harry woke in his bed at Number 4 Privite Drive. It was a beautiful July day but Harry didn't notice. He had woken from another of his nightmares of a graveyard, having to watch Cederic die over and over. Harry was a 15 year old who was about to begin his 5th year at Hogwarts. Nobody would suspect that the most famous wizard of the century was here at his abusive uncle's house where he was treated worse than most house elves. Everyday his chores list was getting longer and longer. The only reason he got a bedroom and no longer slept in the cupboard under the stairs was because that was used to keep all of school books, his broomstick, and his wand under lock and key. Harry quickly dressed knowing he would not fall back to sleep. He couldn't even if he wanted too. He had to have breakfast made by the time his uncle woke up. He didn't dare look in the mirror, not wanting to see the hundreds of scars he had from the many beatings he had received over his years. The worst were most likely the long, liner, white scars that crisscrossed his entire back from when he was whipped for doing something wrong or the burns he had up and down his arms. It was his punishment, whenever he burnt food he was burnt.
Harry rushed down the stairs as quietly as he could. He turned on the stove and went to the refrigerator for eggs, bacon, sausage, etc. He put the bacon in a pan and began to make the eggs. Just as he pulled out another pan at least 10 more fell from the cabinet and clattered to the floor with a loud clatter. "OH NO!" Harry thought. As if on cue his uncle came barging into the kitchen, purple faced. Harry noticeably gulped. He was really in for it now. "What have I told you boy, about making noise!" His uncle bellowed. He had a leather belt in his hands and looked like he was excited to use it. He whipped it around and the crack could be heard throughout the kitchen. Harry fought the urge to cry out. He had learned long ago that screaming only made the beating last longer. After 5 more whippings he fell to his knees. His uncle almost laughed at this and started hitting him harder. After what seemed like hours he finally stopped. "Finish the breakfast boy, and I better not here anymore noise unless it is the sound of bacon sizzling." And with that he left the room. Harry couldn't find the strength to rise from the floor. If his friends saw him now, he the great Harry Potter, reduced to this by his muggle uncle. He finally found the strength to get up and went back to the stove. Luckily he had not burnt anything, which meant he would be able to avoid the fire at least until lunch. Little did he know that today would make his list of top ten worst days of his life.