DURSLEY P.O.V. (June 1995)
The inhabitants of Number 4, Privet Drive were tense. Whilst their neighbors were out enjoying the summer holidays with their children returned from boarding school, Vernon and Petunia sat at their kitchen table. He was a large, strong man with dark hair and a thick moustache, his mean blue eyes lazily scrolling the paper. She had light eyes as well, but had blonde hair and a very slight build. Sausage, bacon, Heinz baked beans, tomato slices, fried bread, and eggs steamed on their breakfast plates.
There was tension in the room despite little conversation other than polite morning greetings. Something ominous was looming over the Dursley couple.
Vernon glanced at the clock, sighing, "That train is arriving in a half an hour. Might as well get this over with."
He scraped his chair back and got laboriously to his feet.
"I will not have magic under my roof, Vernon." said Petunia, watching him rise.
"There's nothing we can do about it." Vernon replied. "I wish there was. But his people force him upon us."
"The boy is dangerous." Petunia continued. "Remember what happened to Dudley last July? Potter says he didn't do it, but it's his world either way. We never really got the chance to punish him for it."
Vernon punched his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, "Well, that's because of his murdering uncle."
"If Harry is strong – and he's always stronger when he comes back from that 'school' – he'll be dangerous again. We have to find a way to weaken him."
Vernon took the last bite of his toast and then a smile dawned on him.
HARRY'S P.O.V. (June 1995)
Dropping his lanky body into the backseat of his uncle's car, Harry could see that Dudley has changed quite a lot over the school year. Though he stood in stark contrast to this cousin, Dudley had managed to lose a lot of weight. He was still overweight, though, by the look of him, but no longer obese. Harry had not spent so long in close confinement with Dudley in months. He supposed last summer had brought on a change in Dudley and Harry's arm was not bruised from punches.
Harry was left to empty his belongings in his bedroom. He could hear his aunt cooking lunch in the kitchen below. He smelled vegetable soup and pork. His metabolism was lightning-fast and he was starving. Even Dudley's 'healthier' diet was mouthwatering.
Hedwig finally arrived after he had let her out on the Hogwarts Express. She carried with her a sizable package from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione and Ron always worried about him when summer rolled around, having listened to Harry complain how indifferent the Dursleys felt about his health. This was made obvious by their owl-mailed food. Harry cuddled Hedwig, the one living connection he had to his real world, before turning to open what he already knew was food.
"Alright! Stew!" Harry punched the air victoriously, then stroked Hedwig. "If I pace myself, this can last me a week. Maybe more!"
He wrote Mrs. Weasley a 'thank you' letter, but lied in it that the Dursleys weren't so bad anymore. He didn't want her to feel like she needed to cook for him when she had four children of her own to feed (Percy being still estranged from the family; Charlie and Bill having moved out years ago). Harry had not gone down to lunch yet, but he knew what would be waiting for him: he'd only be allowed one serving of whatever aunt Petunia had prepared. He sent the letter off before meeting his new summer menu. On his plate sat a pitiful lettuce sandwich with a cup of lemonade.
"That's it?" Harry asked incredulously.
This was low, even for Dursley-neglect standards. It was nothing like the 2,000+ calories a day he was used to getting back at Hogwarts.
"If you don't want it, put it in the fridge for tomorrow. It'll be your breakfast. Either way, you are eating it and only that." Spat back Aunt Petunia.
Harry glanced disbelievingly between his aunt and uncle, "What did I do?"
"You have cost us a lot of money over the last sixteen years. We were only planning on having one child before you were dumped on us." said Uncle Vernon. "It's high time you start earning your way around here. Pay your rent."
The insults went in one ear and out the other. But having a proper summer job would keep Harry out of the house and away from the Dursleys. He would not mind earning some Muggle money, either. He would ask Hermione how to transfer it at Gringotts as she has done it for years.
"I'll look for a job in tomorrow's paper then." Harry shrugged.
"No." said uncle Vernon. "You're going to do work on this house daily for privileges. Food, water, bed, etcetera."
Harry narrowed his eyes, "I thought I already did those things."
"Not daily." said aunt Petunia. "Dudley is too busy being social and wonderful to waste his time with your mundane tasks."
Harry frowned as his uncle handed him a sheet of paper reading:
DAILY CHORES
For drinks:
Change bed linens
Dust
Vacuum
Sweep
Wash and dry laundry
Wash dishes
For food:
Water plants
Rake leaves
Wash car
Pull weeds & spray weed killer
Mow & trim lawn
Trim bushes
Clean outdoor furniture
Clean baseboards
Take trash out
"All of this?!" Harry asked indignantly. "Everyday? Just to eat and drink?!"
Petunia pointed at the paper, "You combine items from each list to earn yourself a meal. For example, washing our dishes plus tending to my garden will get you breakfast. The earlier you start in the day, the less you'll get burned by the sun –"
"You've been coasting by as a guest in our house for too long."." said uncle Vernon. "You must choose a chore to complete and you'll be rewarded."
Harry asked, "And if I don't?"
"… Hope you enjoy your last free meal here, Potter." sneered uncle Vernon.
The best way to counteract the Dursleys treatment of him was to show not a single hint of weakness. Persevere. Harry finished his sandwich in less than a minute to quail his rumbling empty stomach. As per usual, he was forced to wait at the table for the rest of his family to finish their bowls of vegetable soup and pork. But Harry was not so glum tonight, in spite of that ridiculous list.
He had the stew waiting for him underneath his bed. Besides, most teenagers his age had chores to do. Though most teenagers didn't have to do them to get fed …. The dishes now glistening in the dish rack and the counters impeccable, Harry retreated thankfully to his bedroom. At his desk, with the window open to funnel out the delicious aroma, he ate till his stomach might burst and went to sleep in a glorious food coma.
During the Quidditch season at Hogwarts, his muscles would grow and harden. The summer months don't offer much in the way of exercise. Normally, he would go for regular jogs through the neighborhood. But working the chore list every day was sapping the energy right out of him. The "meal rewards" were no more plentiful than that first sandwich.
Certainly not enough to keep his school weight on.
Aunt Petunia scathed him when he returned with his shirt soaked with sweat after working the lawn, "Take a bath this instant!" With Harry's back to her, she added, "Oh, I do hope that smell does not linger."
Harry did not have a scale to check his weight, but he knew he was thinning out faster than usual. The lettuce sandwich diet might have been more appropriate for someone the size of Dudley, who's trying to lose weight for wrestling competitions. Harry couldn't afford to lose any.
!*!
JULY 1995
Harry's long, lean body was almost skeletal just a month and a half later. As tempting as it was to vent his frustration to Ron and Hermione over the rigorous chore regiment and lack of food, he knew it would just scare them. It was not only his body that became thin. His mind was also affected by the daily labor. Once while mowing the lawn for an extra sandwich, Harry nearly passed out in the blazing summer sun.
It was a challenge to maintain a healthy weight while under the Dursleys' roof in the best of times. While at Hogwarts, Harry Potter reckoned that he was among the healthiest of his class. He felt great about his body and his self-esteem ranged from average to show-off. After all, his fame could not be the only reason girls have been taking a shine to him lately. He had his mother's bright green eyes behind his circular spectacles, his father's messy raven hair, and skin like porcelein.
He had a thin face with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline atop his long neck. He felt lofty at 5'9", able to look his older in the eye. But he hardly ever saw Dudley nor that gang of aspiring-felons Dudley considered friends. If he had the brainpower to wonder about it, he'd say that Dudley was distancing himself from them since the Dementor attack last summer. It was a relief to not have them interrupting Harry's chores.
He could sweat and wither away in peace. His stomach shrank so that the sandwiches started to fill him up, but only for a short while. Soon, he'd have to find another chore to complete for another.
!*!
THE BURROW
After helping his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, persuade Horace Slughorn to work at Hogwarts, Harry was dropped off on the front lawn of the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley served him a steaming bowl of onion soup with bread while she updated him. He had been so ravenous that he burnt his mouth and ate half the loaf of bread before he started to feel ill. He was sent off to sleep in Fred and George's old bedroom. He tried to fall asleep, but the nausea beat his exhaustion.
He lost a good portion of that dinner that night before he finally could drift off to sleep. Harry supposed he had eaten too fast. That morning, he awoke to Ron and Hermione in the room.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione touched her lips, "You look so thin!"
Ron agreed, "Are you sick? Mum said she reckoned you just needed feeding-up -"
"It's great to see you both, too." Harry chuckled uncomfortably.
He knew better than to admit that he had vomited after eating hours ago. Hermione grabbed the sleeve of his sweater and half-dragged him to the nearest bathroom in the Burrow.
"What are you doing?!" Harry demanded. "I can piss on my own, thank you!"
Hermione dropped to her knees at the sink and pulled out a scale from the cabinet underneath.
"You weren't yourself in your letters." Hermione explained. "I never believed you when you said you weren't ill. But I'm never far off the mark."
She set it on the wooden floor before Harry. Harry scoffed and turned to walk away with his dignity intact. But Ron was filling up the doorway behind Harry.
"This is ridiculous." Harry swore under his breath. "Hermione, I'm ok."
Hermione was resolute, "Stand on it and we'll let you out. If you're ok, I'll apologize and do your homework for a week."
Harry raised his brows and smirked. How much weight could he really have lost? This was an easy bet. Harry crossed his arms and stepped on the scale.
"Nah-ah!" Hermione shook her finger, "Take off your shoes and all those sweaters first."
"Stripping was not part of the agreement!" Harry remained on top of the scale.
"Come on. You're wearing at least three layers. That'll make you weigh more than you really do –" Hermione glanced down at the number on the scale, breathing, "… oh, my god!"
"What does it say?" Ron asked her.
Hermione covered her mouth, "Harry, what have the Dursleys done to you?"
Harry frowned at the number, "That can't be right."
"A hundred and twenty-five pounds!" Hermione took her hand away, looking very upset. "How could you send Mrs. Weasley that letter?! She's going to lose her mind when she sees you!"
"She did not react like you guys are," Harry told her. "And she's already seen me."
"At night, in the dark." Ron pointed out. "She's going to flip her lid."
Harry turned to the mirror and saw himself as though for the first time all summer. Dumbledore had described Harry as 'thin' before departing, but that was putting it lightly. His cheeks were concave, his eyes were shadowed behind his glasses, and his hair could do with more than a trim. He tugged the neckline of his sweater up to hide his jutting collarbone.
"Harry, I weigh more than you." Hermione shook her head.
"Me, too." said Ron.
"You're a foot taller." Harry pointed out to Ron. He turned back to Hermione, "There must be something wrong with that scale."
"It's my mum's!" Hermione told him. "I brought it with me." Now Harry was certain they had planned to corner him. "I knew you were just trying to be the hero again. You're so masochistic, you know. Why can't you just let us help!"
Harry tried to get them to lower their voices, finally slipping past Ron to return to Fred and George's old bedroom.
"Did you eat any of the stuff we sent you before you stopped us?" Ron followed him. "Or did the Dursleys confiscate them? Feed them to their fat son?"
"They had no clue." He implored defensively. "I was careful!"
"... That's bloody messed up." Ron narrowed his eyes.
Harry could see from Ron's point of view that this was an unsavory situation, living with the Dursleys. But, it will only be for one more summer. Then Harry will be moving out for good.
"I've told you before that the Dursleys don't starve me." Harry reminded them. "Please. I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"That just says plainly that there is a problem!" Hermione insisted. Then she lowered her voice, "Is it because of Sirius?"
Harry gulped, "No."
"Why did you tell her to stop sending you food?" Ron asked.
"She has enough people to worry about without adding me to the list," Harry reasoned.
Hermione shook her head, "Mrs. Weasley loves to cook and she always has leftovers. That's not the real reason."
"I don't need her to cook for somebody who's not a guest at her house." Harry argued. "Staying here is one thing. But I live hours away."
"You know good and well she loves to mollycoddle you." Hermione argued back. "What, you can't stand being helped?"
Harry gave her a look and Ron sighed. Maybe he was tired of the topic as well. Hermione looked hurt. He was taking his frustration over the shameful comments he gets out on her. Harry knew she was only misguidedly seeing a problem where there was none.
"I appreciate your concern." Placated Harry, his teeth barely unclenched. "But, I can deal with the Dursleys on my own. I didn't have any help as a child and I certainly don't need it now. Besides, I'm here now. I'll get back to normal."
Hermione considered him for a moment, shaking her head.
But then her resolve melted and she sighed, outstretching her arms, "It's so good to see you."
And she embraced him, Ron enveloping them both as he was so much taller.