The Effects of Choices

A young wizard wished he knew what was wrong with being magical. After all, there must be something wrong for his family to dislike him so much. Harry didn't mind his family had differing opinions than his, but most muggle-borns were treated better. All he knew was that it wasn't exactly fair for him to do housework while his cousin watched cartoons all day. Dudley didn't even get punished for misbehaving, while Harry had no idea why he was punished. However, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

"Mummy! Harry's blocking the telly! Make him stop!", screamed Dudley very loudly. Harry winced, he knew what was coming, even if he wasn't in the same room as his cousin. In fact, he was cleaning his cousin's room upstairs, while Dudley was in the family room. Harry wasn't allowed in that room, even to clean. After all, he wasn't considered "family".

"You brat! How dare you upset dearest Duddykins! Are you finished with your chores yet, you idiot?", Aunt Petunia screamed.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

"Good, come to the kitchen. Vernon will punish you when he comes home, you worthless freak."

Harry struggled not to cry. He knew that, while it might make him feel better, it would accomplish nothing. Plus, the Dursleys would just call him a wimp and punish him further for daring to possibly mess up even a tissue as a result. He didn't even risk crying over his Godfather.

He quickly went to the kitchen, as Petunia had ordered, wishing along the way he could just return to Hogwarts, or even Grimmauld Place. He refused, however, to tell his friends what really went on at the Dursleys, or that he had been moved back to the cupboard. It would just cause them problems, and they needed to worry about Voldemort instead. Shouldn't the world be more important than just one teen?

"Now, Vernon and I have decided that we need the cupboard under the stairs for our use, so you will now be in the attic. Vernon moved your cot there this morning. Take the rest of your nasty things, you ungrateful little brat." Petunia glared at Harry as if the sight of him disgusted her. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

Harry sneezed quite often that afternoon. It seemed no one had deemed the attic in need of dusting in quite a while. Which, when he thought about it, was quite fortunate. At least that meant he wasn't given another chore, although he couldn't be sure that would last long. He managed to clear an adequate space for his cot, which had been placed right in the doorway. Obviously Vernon didn't care that his nephew would have to move it, so long as it was out of his way. They needed the cupboard given up for the brat out of the goodness of his and Petunia's hearts to place their coats and extra shoes. They couldn't fit then in their walk-in closets.

"Dinner!" Harry trudged down the stairs, wiping dust from his nose. It wouldn't do for his relatives to think he was trying to spread his freakish germs to them and infect them with whatever disease they claimed he had.

"Boy! Petunia told me what happened. You sit on the floor in that corner until I am done eating. You will not eat." Vernon finished looking nastily at the starving boy and turned back to his dinner, not caring that Harry hadn't eaten in three days. He was barely given enough water as it was. The teen knew that he would be beaten later and was immensely scared. However, he dared not move. To the Dursley's, just the fact that he breathed their precious air was a horrible atrocity.

Harry looked up fearfully when Vernon Dursley stood over him, grinning ferociously. Vernon did seem to enjoy inflicting whatever damage possible on the boy. Therefore, Harry was not surprised when his uncle slapped him across the face. It barely stung, he was so used to it now.

After several pain-filled minutes (for Harry) and joy-filled ones (for Vernon), the boy gratefully walked slowly up to the attic. Once he got there, he blissfully passed out on his cot, thankful that the beating was over.

Over the next few weeks, Harry overheard (when his cousin was at a friend's one night and couldn't tattle on him), that Petunia was complaining about some stupid trunk in the attic that had belonged to Harry's mother. It seemed that Petunia couldn't get rid of it. Harry decided to find the trunk. He was curious as to why something like that ended up in the Dursley house and not in his Gringott's vault.

He snuck quietly back to the attic, no one knowing he had listened. He found the trunk, it seemed it had been giving off a bright light since he now knew of its existence. Oddly enough, it opened without him even touching it, but his aunt couldn't even break the lock. From what Harry had heard, she certainly had tried. He decided it had to be some sort of spell, since his mother was excellent with charms.

He started to open the trunk, when he heard a crash downstairs. Quickly grabbing his wand, he started to stealthily make his way downstairs. He was surprised to see members of the Order.

"Come on, Potter. Get your things. Tonks, go help." Moody growled in that way of his, grinning evilly when the Dursleys flinched.

Tonks winked at Harry and saluted Mad-Eye, saying, "Yes, sir!". She snapped her arm to her side and stood in the position of attention. Harry was the only one who appreciated the humor, however. Apparently the Dursleys didn't find it the slightest bit humourous.