Disclaimer: Not mine, it belongs to J.K Rowling. The concept of Easter is different matter…

Harry Hunting – The Easter version.

People sometimes compare the world to a stage, like all our lives were individual plays set up to amuse a yet unknown audience. Life can also feel like an entirely separate universe and something simple as connecting to other people can be as difficult as pushing through unknown boundaries we can't see, smell or touch.

If you really wanted to wax poetical about it, you could compare our lives to Easter eggs. Some look more like small Fabergé eggs while others are mass produced in cheap cardboard. They're all full of surprises, some enjoyable, some unexpected and some downright nasty. How they look and what's inside them doesn't matter though, it's only the people that gives them to you that really counts.

Easter eggs were something Harry Potter knew about in theory. He could identify one on sight and tell you in no uncertain terms what was supposed to be inside. Yes, that would be candy, or possibly a small gift of some kind. Even though he had all this gathered expertise Harry Potter was sorely lacking in hands-on experience with Easter eggs. It wasn't because his parents refused to partake in something so silly, and thought that people encouraging children to believe in an Easter rabbit was not only morally wrong but also sinful. No, it was because Harry Potter lived with his aunt and uncle. They were two people that never really caught on to the fact that industrialization and the following improvement of standards had made it unnecessary to treat unwanted relatives like lepers. Flesh and blood didn't mean anything if it came with a side-order of magic. Not that they told young Harry this, of course. For him, this was simply the way life was.

He was their responsibility, but by golly, they didn't have to enjoy it. They had their own child to think about. Dudley Dursley. A more handsome boy there had never lived, according to his mother. His father would simply grunt proudly whenever he was mentioned. Dudleykins could do nothing wrong. This meant that marginal attention was wasted on the brat, one Harry Potter. Gifts were the exception, not the norm and Easter eggs were never even considered.

So Harry's Easter egg seemed to be of the cardboard variety, and sorely lacking in delightful surprises. You could even say that he didn't have one, since no one had ever given him one. An Easter egg that is, though having a life was in part questionable too. Harry Potter had an existence.

But you can only feel the lack of an Easter egg at one time of the year, and fortunately it passed quickly. Unfortunately, you can feel the lack of that metaphorical Easter egg all year long. So when Easter arrived yet again, in the guise of sunny weather and clear blue skies, the now nine year old Harry Potter felt nothing but resignation. He knew that the hunt for Easter eggs were planned for this afternoon but if he could avoid Dudley entirely he would view that as an Easter gift as good as any.

Sadly, Lady Fortuna had turned her head away from him this day and his wish was not to be granted. Instead his aunt made him help her in the garden with the weeding. Everything had to look perfect for Dudder's little gathering. Harry wondered how one woman could squeeze so much dislike into one voice at the same time merely because she had to talk to him. Also, he sincerely doubted that Dudley's friends would be poking around in Petunia's flower beds. Unless she hid the stupid eggs there, the flower beds would be safe and totally overlooked.

After weeding and watching Petunia worrying over the dark clouds slowly creeping up on the horizon he was sent inside to scrub himself clean. It wouldn't do to let any of the neighbors have anything to gossip about. Harry would take part in the great Egg hunt. Keeping up appearances wasn't only a lifestyle for Petunia; it was an effort on par with the Olympic Games.

Harry didn't complain, he never did. When complaining gets you nowhere, or possibly an unspecified amount of time inside a dark, cramped cupboard, you soon learn not to complain.

A little after three o'clock, Dudley's guests started to arrive. They were wearing white shirts and sturdy jeans, some with combed back hair, some with their usual untidy hairstyle. Some of them brought parents, some didn't. No one said anything to Harry, he could have been a part of the furniture for all the attention he was given.

The little party proceeded along the lines of almost every other get together. Give the children some sustenance and then throw them outside while the grownups drink their coffee in the living room. Fortification in the coffee is optional, letting the children stay inside isn't. They needed the fresh air and the exercise, the little dears. There was no special reprieve for Harry; he was shoved outside with the others.

Playtime would precede the Easter egg hunt so Harry decided to make himself scarce until anyone who actually cared for his whereabouts would come outside.

Not unexpectedly Dudley soon tired with playing nice with his guests and Harry could hear his voice echoing menacingly in the small yard.

"Harry, Harry, Harry! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

The thought that he had no intention of leaving his current hiding place had to be tempered with the fact that his current hiding place was behind the tool shed. Not even Dudley would fail to look there.

"Come on everyone, let's find Harry!"

Harry could hear his cousin's voice, and if he had been a little further along in his mathematics studies he could have ventured an educated guess on how long time it would take for eight boys to locate him in an area covering about seventy square meters. As it was he merely counted the seconds it took for someone to find him.

56 seconds. Impressive, Dudley really chose his friends based on their lack of brains.

"He's here, Dudley!"

It was Piers Polkiss that found him. He sneered at Harry like he was looking at something disgusting.

Dudley came running up, out of breath after a couple of minutes of exercise.

"Did you think you could get away, eh?" The words were supposed to come out menacing, but even Dudley's cronies could have told him that threatening people while being out of breath was not especially scary.

"Why would I want to get away when there's an Easter egg hunt coming up?" Harry tried for flippant but didn't quite get there. He wound up sounding mostly unsure of himself.

This time even Dudley sneered.

"Like you're getting an Easter egg, you're just a worthless freak."

Somehow, this seemed to be the agreed upon code word because all of his friends suddenly started closing in on Harry. One small, scrawny boy inside a ring made up of bullies. If it would have been roses, or even mushrooms, it would have been the stuff of folksongs. Now it was just an everyday sight, even if it was a horrible one.

Harry hunting was always more sporting when it actually involved some kind of hunt, because then he had a chance of getting away. Unfortunately, running away wasn't an option when you were behind a human wall of nastiness so Harry decided to take option C instead. Running away was always first priority while option B was to face it bravely. That didn't always work. In fact, it almost never worked. Option C had therefore been devised. Close your eyes and hope for the best. It sounded silly, even to him, but it actually worked from time to time. Sometimes it was as if they forgot about him and wandered away, and sometimes they started looking confused and made it possible for him to slip away unnoticed. Not to mention the most extreme time when he had somehow found himself up on the school roof. It had made his uncle very angry, but he would rather be shouted at any day then be beat up in school yet again.

This time, when he closed his eyes and hoped for the best, help came from an unexpected direction. Petunias voice could be heard throughout the garden, and probably in to the neighbors as well.

"Children! Time for the Easter egg hunt!"

Once again it had to be said that it was a testament to Dudley's friends and their lack of intelligence that none of the eggs had been found before this. Harry had spotted three since he stepped outside and he couldn't honestly say that it was because he was clever. The hiding places were easily detected. Then the great hunt for candy and sugar rushes began and children ran back and forth in the garden. Harry sidled back behind the shed and hoped that his absence would go unnoticed until it was time for everyone to leave.

After an uninterrupted half an hour behind the shed it looked as if he was successful. He could hear parents and children calling goodbye to each other and decided to take a peak just to be sure. The garden was empty so Harry decided he could sneak in to the house and stay in his cupboard for the rest of the evening. When he was halfway to the door he noticed something colorful in one of the drainpipes. He padded closer to confirm that his discovery really was an Easter egg. It was safely ensconced in the drainpipe so Harry decided to coax it out. Maybe there really was an egg for him, only no one told him? Even if it was purely for appearances sake Harry was prepared to accept it, he had never received an Easter egg.

Harry cradled the egg close to his chest and continued towards the slightly ajar front door. Since he was quite intent on the Easter egg, he never noticed Dudley walking towards him from the side.

"What have you got there?" Dudley's voice rang out close to Harry's ear and made him spin around to face his cousin.

"A leftover Easter egg."

"Give it to me" Dudley held out a pudgy hand for the egg.

"No, you already have an Easter egg." All the things he really wanted to say to his cousin were choking in his throat so that this semi-polite thing was the only thing that came out. He should have known that a "no" wasn't what Dudley was expecting. He also should have guessed that the fist Dudley planted in his face was, in fact, inevitable.

-

He had a black eye and a bruised pride. Other than that Harry Potter was doing just fine, thank you. He didn't think it was cold at all, and the rain hardly bothered him. He would stay outside as long as he could get away with it. Dudley was a stupid bully and he didn't want to spend any more time close to him than necessary. He sheltered beneath the pitiful excuse for a tree in the backyard and scuffed his sneakers in the dirt. By the time he had a quite respectable mound of dirt in front of his feet he was interrupted by a rustle in the bushes. Since he actually felt cold and was more than a little bothered by the rain he startled and turned towards the sound before he could control himself. Bravery was hard to maintain when the evening came rolling in, so he was relieved when it turned out to be a grey cat. Harry picked it up and cuddled with it, he was more than willing to exchange the warmth for the uncountable cat hairs sure to stick to him like glue. Then there came another rustling from the bushes behind him. This time he didn't startle, but he did tighten his grip on the cat, which it strenuously protested against. He tried keeping his arms around it, but had to give it up after a small scratch and lots of angry meowing. When he finally turned around to see the source of the sound there was nothing there. Except… There was something glinting on the ground. He left the meager protection of the tree and ventured closer to the bushes. He dropped down to his knees to study the glinting object in closer detail. It proved to be a small gift wrapped box. Thinking it must be a remnant of the hunt Harry picked it up, and then almost dropped it when he saw his own name written clearly on the attached note.

Normally Harry might have passed it off as a joke or a mistake and brought it inside the house but right now his eye was hurting, he was soaking wet and freezing cold. Anything that could alleviate his feelings of discomfort was fine by him. He carefully unwrapped the gift paper only to be confronted by a beautiful box. Harry folded the paper and put it in his jeans pocket for safekeeping and then he reverently opened the box. If the box had made him forget about the fact that he was outside in the early spring about to catch his death from pneumonia it was nothing against the gift inside. It was probably the most beautiful Easter egg Harry had ever seen. It was emerald green with tiny dragons and seemed to be glowing from the inside. It was slightly larger than his fist and he couldn't imagine who would give him something so marvelous. It almost seemed magical. Harry examined it from every angle and then satisfied himself with holding it in his cupped hands to be able to admire it properly. It was better than any physical fire or shelter because it made happiness burn inside him and rain totally irrelevant.

The wonders didn't cease there though. Since there was a fine line running across the middle of the egg, Harry, who was after all only a boy, and a young one at that, decided to see if it would open, like most Easter eggs do. He carefully tugged at the two halves, more careful than he was when handling real eggs in the kitchen. Agonizingly slowly the two halves parted. At the last second he realized that if there truly was something inside the egg he couldn't open it while it was on one end. Holding it flat in one hand he gave a last tug and revealed a veritable treasure trove of candy inside.

When something amazing happens, the amazed person in question is usually stumped for words to describe what they're feeling. Not so Harry Potter, he would have described himself as surprised, for sure, but also very happy. Thrilled and delighted might have chased by but happiness won out, hands down. Harry was happy, because he had his very own Easter egg, filled with candy and goodwill. So on this rainy, cold April evening, Harry could feel like a part of his own play and feel like he filled up his very own universe. He had taken part in the great Easter egg hunt of life and decided that it wasn't bad at all.

Harry knew that he would have to go inside soon, and that it would mean the end of his first, amazing Easter egg experience. Still, for another little while he could pretend that it was spring, soon to be summer and that chocolate really could heal his every hurt.

A/N: This was written for The Reviews Lounge Easter challenge but it took me a while to post it. Many thanks to Atopos, who beta-read this for me! This fic doesn't exactly inspire Easter nostalgia but hopefully a review or two!