Title: Once Upon a Time
A/N: I have adopted "Some Tale" from Sagia and renamed it "Once Upon a Time". Thanks to my AMAZING beta Hikari Ice Angel!
Chapter 1: Harry Soot
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The morning was warm and a light breeze cooled the sweaty forehead of a boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes. He was rather short for his age and very skinny; no great beauty, he would always think. His name was Harry, and he knelt on the dirty cobblestones of his aunt's kitchen, scrubbing furiously at stains of flour, egg, and milk; his cousin Dudley had decided to make his life harder by knocking the cook's pots and jars of ingredients all over the floor the previous night.
The soapy water in the bowl had slowly turned a murky grey, and grease stained the cloth Harry used to scrub the floor with. He had learned early in life that things like this were a regular occurrence and that it would only make the situation worse if he let it get the best of him and become angry.
His mind wandered to the garden, as it often did. The garden was an isolated, peaceful place and his haven. He never saw tending to the garden as a chore; he would tend to it willingly and without instruction. He loved to feed the squirrels and birds that lived in the garden.
A cool breeze came in through the kitchen window and Harry lifted his head a bit higher to welcome the wind. He would surely slip on the soapy water on the floor if he tried to stand.
Harry sighed. It was entirely Dudley's fault that he was behind schedule with his many other chores. Sighing again, he gathered up the dirty cloth and squeezed it into the rusty metal pan beside him. Still kneeling on the floor, he straightened and stretched his back, put his hands on his hips, and inspected the stone floor. It was spotless, just the way it had been the day before.
Perfect!
He admired the floor for a few minutes, almost sad that it would be ruined whenever Dudley carelessly traipsed in with muddy shoes or some such thing.
Finally, Harry tucked a few strands of his black hair behind his ears, threw the rag into the pan, picked up the bucket, and walked out of the kitchen into the dirt front yard to dump the mess into Aunt Petunia's ugly rose felt sorry for the plants; some leaves were yellowing with disease and most of the "blooming" pink flowers had become brittle and brown.
When he stepped outside, however, the bright glare of the sun blinded him for a moment. The tip of his worn leather shoes caught on a root, and the next second he found himself sprawled on the ground, the pan's contents drenching his already dirty top and spreading darkly upon the dusty ground.
Groaning, Harry slowly sat up. He didn't mind a few scrapes and bruises. They were nothing. It was the damage to his bones and organs that were the problem.
The sound of a girl and a boy's spiteful laughter made him look up and he immediately recognised Piers Polkiss and Susan Worth, friends of Dudley, and thus enemies of himself.
Glaring up at the unintelligent thugs in a way that clearly said get lost, he picked up the fallen bucket and stared angrily at the two.
"HA! You're always so clumsy!" screeched the girl, who had blond hair and brown eyes and looked rather bulky in a pink frilly dress. If Harry hadn't known any better, he would have thought she were a boy dressed in girl's clothing.
"Dudley is right. You are a clumsy waste of space. Who knew that a servant could be so useless? My maid Luna on the other hand is of much more refined breeding…"
The girl went on to burble more nonsense, which Harry chose to ignore. Instead, he silently watched the boy beside her that looked at Harry with a smirk. It was better if Harry kept silent and didn't incite Dudley's friends, because talking back would always bring repercussions on Harry. Aunt Petunia was always one to gossip with her neighbours, so anything the neighbours' children told their parents about him would always reach Aunt Petunia's ears, and the children knew that as well. Repercussions usually included the loss of food privileges for a few days and a few new belt marks on his back. Of course, she couldn't leave him without water because the neighbours would, of course, talk about that, too. Plus, if he got dehydrated, that would make him unable to do his chores, which would lead the Dursleys to get off their fat bottoms for once.
Thankfully, he had found friends and allies in a nice family who lived only a few houses down the road. Their son, Ron, and his brothers tried to protect Harry from the other children, and if they wanted to do that, who was Harry to stop them? He was grateful to have people who cared for him.
"You, on the other hand…well, I will be sure to tell my mother of your…" Harry's eyes widened at this. He didn't do anything to them! Why did people have to be so malicious? Why wasn't the silent mode working? It always worked! If it weren't for all of the mean and childish people in the world, then maybe he would have parents who cared for him and made sure the snobby children of the village didn't push him around.
He continued to look at the mean-spirited girl confusedly. She stopped speaking and smirked.
Her podgy lips opened. "Unless…" Unless what? Harry wanted to ask but remained silent.
"Well, I won't tell mother a lie or of your rudeness…but only if you fix my flute."
Harry's mouth dropped opened as Susan stuck two broken pieces of a wooden flute into his face just long enough for him to see that it would be nearly impossible to repair. So, it has come to this? It had come to blackmail? Glaring at Susan, Harry angrily grabbed the two pieces, and stuck them into an empty pocket in his trousers. The ugly bore, the nerve of her!
"Good boy. I knew you would follow through. You better fix it up nice, or else I'll tell how your shirt got so dirty," She smirked.
It doesn't take a genius to figure that out! It's because of something called cleaning, you idiot, but you wouldn't know the meaning of the word! Harry wanted to say angrily but kept his mouth shut.
"And have it done in two days. I'll need the flute for my next lessons with Mrs. Figg," Still smiling, she grabbed Piers, who had only stood there and stared at Harry, and marched down the road towards her house for afternoon tea.
Grumbling, Harry kicked the dirt and stomped off to finish the rest of his chores, while clenching the pocket with the flute as if to break it even more.
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Hope you all liked this chapter, I hope you will want me to continue, let me know if you do in a review, the more reviews I get the faster the chapters,
Peace out ,
Founderschild