Chapter #1: Welcome To My Life
To be hurt, to feel lost, to be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down, to feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down, and no one's there to save you
No you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life
Simple Plan - 'Welcome to my Life'
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley walked along the tidy suburban streets of Little Whinging, Surrey, Harry pointing out various places of significant interest to Ron and pretending not to notice the thumbed but curious noses pressed against the window. Next thing he knew, he'd be labelled as gay, he supposed.
"That's where I first saw Sirius," Harry said, indicating the bushes across the road from the playground. "And that's the alley where the Dementors attacked. Oh, and that's where Dudley first broke my glasses. I'd only had them for about two hours, too."
Harry could sense Ron's clear blue eyes on him. He didn't even know why he was telling Ron this, but it wasn't as though he'd ever had the chance to tell anyone. Usually, Harry pretended that this part of his life didn't exist, like he hadn't slept in the cupboard under the stairs for ten years, like his mother's sister and family did care about him, as Dumbledore had once said, if only slightly. However, it did feel good to get these things off his chest, like he didn't have to keep them bottled up inside all the time. It was amazingly therapeutic.
The two teenagers stopped short at the driveway to Number 4, Privet Drive. Harry took a deep breath.
"It looks different from the ground and in the daylight," Ron remarked.
"It looks as ominous as it always does," Harry sighed, and trudged up the path to the door where a brass 4 hung. Ron followed him and let his battered trunk fall to the ground with a thud as Harry knocked and set his own trunk on the ground.
Harry listened carefully. The clack-clack-clack of Petunia Dursley's house shoes could be faintly heard nearing the doorway. The door opened just as far as the security chain would allow. Harry wondered vaguely why it had been installed. Muggle locks did not stand a chance against the wrath of Death Eaters. "Yes?" Aunt Petunia asked, before recognising the tall, lean teenager on the doorstep. "What are you doing back so early?"
"School finished early," Harry said shortly. He didn't feel like going into the whole matter with his aunt. "I need to stay here a while – two days at most – so that the enchantment renews itself. My friend Ron Weasley insisted on accompanying me. If the neighbours ask, it's a St Brutus' venture where someone from a dysfunctional family gets to see how a normal family works."
"You've given this a fair bit of thought," Aunt Petunia said, and closed the door. A second later it opened fully.
"My family's not dysfunctional," Ron protested as he and Harry picked up their trunks and grunted their way into the hall.
"The neighbours don't need to know that," Aunt Petunia snapped.
Harry froze, closed his eyes and counted to ten under his breath, trying to keep his temper.
"Dinner will be at seven-thirty," Aunt Petunia said, and went back into her gleaming, spotless kitchen.
Harry opened his eyes. "Where's Ron sleeping?" The only answer he got was the kitchen door slamming. Harry turned to Ron. "I think there's a mattress in the attic, but it's probably full of cobwebs and protruding springs. You wouldn't know how to conjure one, would you?"
"A protruding spring?" Ron asked, as they hauled their trunks up the stairs. Harry gave him a Look. "You know, you look uncannily like Hermione when you pull that face."
Harry frowned. "Last time I checked, I had green eyes, a lightning bolt scar and no tan to speak of, not brown eyes, no scar at all and a light tan."
Ron glanced up at the ceiling.
"Please tell me you've noticed Hermione's eye colour," Harry muttered.
"Of course I have," Ron spluttered. "But they're chocolate, not brown."
Harry was finding it very hard not to smirk. By now they had reached his room. Harry pushed open the door and heaved his trunk inside. "You in or what?" he called to Ron, who was still standing in the hall.
"It looks smaller by day," Ron said quietly as he pulled him trunk into the room.
"You should see the cupboard under the stairs," Harry muttered.
"What about it?" Ron said blankly.
Harry took a deep breath. "You know how I said that the Dursleys don't like me?"
Ron nodded.
"I lied. They loathe me. They made me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs until I got my first Hogwarts letter – they kept that from me. Oh, and I didn't just sleep there, either. They made me serve time-out there, and they locked me in there so I could hear the television and smell the food but not partake of it – they starved me, they gave me Dudley's cast-off clothes," Harry was on a roll now and information was gushing out of him like a burst watermain, he didn't know how to stop, "which just added the to the I-have-an-eating-disorder look and the one time I was ever taken to a hospital was when Dudley broke my arm, he and his gang were almost as bad as Malfoy and his thugs; that's how I got to be such a fast runner, so I could get away from them." He took a breath and continued, "They tried to squash all the magic out of me, so that I would fit in with their definition of 'normal'. They hated anything even vaguely out of the ordinary, that might challenge their way of life. Then, when I came back from Hogwarts, I couldn't even tell them, 'Oh, by the way, my friends and I just saved the lives of everyone on the planet from the bloke that killed my parents,' because they don't care and still want to believe the lie they fed me for 10 years, that Mum and Dad died in a car crash –"
"No way!" Ron interjected. "They're the dysfunctional ones!"
"You have no idea," Harry told him. "And then I came back from second year and I couldn't talk to them about what happened at school then, because they just didn't want to hear it; I couldn't talk to them about anything to do with it, they didn't care. When you invited me to go to the Quidditch World Cup, the only reason they let me go was because I threatened to write to Sirius saying that they were mistreating me. Year before last, I couldn't talk to them about what happened at the grave-yard – well, it's not like I want to talk about it much, even with you and Hermione, but at least they were there for me to talk to. And then the Dementors attacked and they didn't say well done for fighting them off single-handedly, they didn't understand. Last summer, I just lay on my bed here, staring at the ceiling, and they didn't ask me what was wrong, they didn't try to make me eat when I refused meals. At least now Dudley's still at Smeltings and I don't have to deal with him, just Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Do you want to conjure that mattress now, or would you rather I slept on the floor?"
Ron blinked at the rapid change of subject. "Um, sure," he said. He raised his wand and muttered something Harry couldn't quite catch. A slit second later, a squashy maroon mattress appeared on the dusty floor. Aunt Petunia clearly didn't care about this part of the house. "But let's get one thing straight. I'm taking the mattress, you're taking the bed.
"You're the guest, you take the bed," Harry countered.
"Harry," Ron said angrily, "from what you just told me, you need some comparable comfort here. Just take the bloody bed!"
Harry flumped onto the bed. "All right, you win." He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I just don't care about this place. It's not like they ever cared about me."
Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I don't know how you turned out the way you have, mate. You haven't been shown very good examples of human beings."
"What ever gave you that idea?" Harry muttered sarcastically.
A.N: Talking is very therapeutic. Goodness knows it helped me, so I don't see why it shouldn't help Harry. And the Simple Plan song just seems to fit. Just to let you know, I finished writing this with 36 hours, 45 minutes to go until the real DH was released. There will be similarities between this fic and the real DH, but they are nothing more than extremely good guesses on my pre-DH part, as I have not edited this to include post-DH canon. Reviews are always appreciated!
