Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That world belongs to the lovely J.K Rowling. Thank you so much Ms. Rowling!
Warnings: Standard from chapter 1, though I will add this: I do not know the British slang. I have read it in other fanfics and I could probably add it if I really tried, but...it's not really my jargon. My fear is that by using it... it will feel unnatural to me. If there is someone out there that is truly offended and would like to have it in here...contact me and I will see about having a beta that will help me with this. Also I have never been to England so...I do not know any places. Help would be appreciated. Really really appreciated.
Chapter 2: ...With This...
It was a really hot and humid summers day when my parents finally arrived.
That morning my uncle unlocked my door for the day; his usual command was to "Do the cooking and dishes Boy! After that do the laundry and clean the house." The last bit of his exclamation is also standard, but it still sends shivers down my back. The way he delivers this threat is truly creepy. Instead of the usual shouting that accompanies all of my uncle's demands this one is whispered in a deadly calm voice. It just further solidifies the reality of the statement. He always adds this in the end," If you so much as make eye contact with my Dudders, you'll be lucky if you can walk up the stairs by yourself."
I have never looked at my cousins face, never. If Dudley ever demands something of me I always look at his shoes. My lovely cousin takes advantage of my submissive position; I rarely escape his company without a bruise or two on my face.
Over the years I have learned about my cousin through the shoes he wears. When we were younger he always wore sneakers. His favorite pair of sneakers was these baby blue shoes. When my aunt asked him why he always wore those shoes Dudley's response was, "They are my escape shoes!". It was the first time that I ever thought of my cousin as a human being. I finally realized, at that time, that my cousin was a little boy like me who wanted to feel the wind on his face.
But my aunt kept Dudley from feeling that freedom. Petunia smothered her boy with 'affection' to the point where Dudley lost himself. As the years progressed, so did Dudley's shoes. From sneakers he progressed to semi- casual shoes. Uncle Vernon was prodding his son to abandon playing and demanded that he attend social functions with him. Eventually Dudley's shoes became the same shoes that Vernon wears, shiny polished loafers that I am forced to polish every night.
I know that my cousin is angry about the change. I'm not sure if he fully realizes that he has lost himself to his parents demands, but his contempt for me truly shows that he is unhappy. Despite all of his parents warnings he tried to befriend me at first. That changed though very quickly.
My cousin changed from the adventure seeking boy to the over weight young man whose only pleasure is to beat me up.
I made breakfast as was usual, the bacon was nice and crispy and the eggs were not runny. Anything less of perfection usually gets me a couple of sharp whacks to the back of my head from my Uncle.
To keep myself positive and focused I started to think of my chores as a game. That I was Hercules attempting to complete the twelve tasks assigned. Each day was marked as a new game, a restart button in a crude way. When I was younger I was much more prone to failing my games, but I am proud to say that I have not failed once for about a month now.
After setting the table for the Dursley's I went back into the kitchen. After cleaning up the supplies that I used for making their breakfast I quickly grabbed my usual slices of bread. Unfortunately, for this meal I am unable to take my time to eat it. I have to gobble down the slices and quickly move on to the rest of my chores. My stomach has quickly learned not to protest this practice, but I still long to eat the eggs and bacon that I have prepared time after time for my family.
Quickly washing down my meager breakfast with some water I went silently down the hall to the cupboard under the stairs. This cupboard was actually my first bedroom at the Dursley house hold. It still scares me to this day; when I was first locked up in it I cried my eyes out and banged on the door until my fists were bloody. My cousin was the one to let me out finally after his parents went to bed.
My cousin was my guardian angel in the beginning. He would let me out at night and he would stay for a little bit and talk to me. He even brought an old teddy bear of his for me to have as company at night. But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Uncle Vernon made sure that his son never wanted to associate with me ever again.
I quickly grabbed the mop and bucket to get started on the floors. I needed to get the floors done while the Dursleys were preoccupied with eating. It takes about half an hour for the floors to dry so I always start with the areas the Dursleys travel along first. I immediately began with the hallway that leads to the front door and living room area.
One time I did not move fast enough mopping the floors; when Uncle Vernon finished his breakfast he slipped in the hallway. I swear time slowed down in that moment. My eyes were riveted on watching my obese uncle's body move in unnatural ways to try and right itself. The fat jiggled rapidly with the physical effort of trying to stay upright. I am thankful to this day that he did not actually fall. It was my first mistake and it was my first beating. I am so scared to get beaten again, my head pounded so hard all that day that I could not stop myself from crying. My stomach kept wanting to upheave itself and I fought really hard to maintain the small amount of food that I was able to eat that day. I know that the beating would have been worse if my uncle actually did fall.
With that thought I quickly suppressed the shiver that went down my spine and began my task. I was so focused with completing my chores that I jumped when I heard the doorbell ring. At this point in my day I was dusting the shelves in the living room. It is the most delicate of all my chores because on these shelves are my aunt's most prized silver ware. Any nicks on the pieces and I would be having the beating of my life.
When the door rang I had just put down the final piece of silver ware. I almost knocked it down with my flailing arm but I just missed it by a centimeter.
"Boy! Get the door!" Hearing my uncle's order I quickly rushed to the door to see what visitor we would be entertaining for the day.
I wish I had not opened the door in the attire that I was wearing. With my constant work in the house and my always staying within the house my uncle decided that I would never need new clothes. Instead I was to wear any of Dudley's old clothes. At first this was fine because Dudley was not to different in size from me. He was only a little taller when we were younger. But now, the size gap is enormous; I have taken to ripping some of the older shirts to make makeshift belts to keep the pants on my hips. Generally all of the clothes are old, faded, and have numerous holes and stains. I look like a homeless young man making do with clothes found in a crummy garbage can.
To bad that I opened the door wearing such monstrosities to greet my parents.
My mother looks so gorgeous, her wild red hair is down so that the curls can be picked up by the wind. Her eyes though have lost a little of the sparkle that I always adored, but when she caught my eyes with her own I saw the glimmer there. Though my eyes quickly averted from her own after the contact. My father would not approve of my endangering of my mother's life. She looked spectacular in the clean cut white sundress. She is the perfect angel, the one who I have been waiting for to take me home.
My father looked every bit of the strong masculine character. His wild hair did not look so freakish today. His suit was tailored to look the part of a modern wealthy man. The Potter family should be proud of the way my parents represent the name. But one look at my attire and my father's eyes betrayed the fact that I was destroying whatever dignity my parents name had.
My face grew very hot at that realization and I just know that I am blushing. My mother did not waste any time, she jumped forward with no invitation and hugged me to her body. My eyes grew moist and I tried to fight back the tears but it was a losing battle. Pretty soon I was sobbing quietly on my mothers fine clothing. My father was not going to approve such an emotional response from me.
Time must have passed because I soon heard my uncles heavy foot steps coming down the hallway. Gently, I pried my teary face from my mother's shoulder in order to face my unhappy uncle to calmly explain what was going on. Seeing Vernon's irate face I faltered a little on what I was to say; my father tsked at me and quickly stepped in to smooth things over.
"Vernon! It is so good to see you. The years have slipped by quickly have they not? I hope that we are not intruding?" With my father's polite tones my uncle was forced to meet the comments with the same courtesy.
"No, you are not intruding James. We were just finishing breakfast. Harry here was helping us with completing some of our chores. I am sure if we had known that you were coming you would not have found us so... unprepared. Please come in. I think we would be most comfortable in the living area."
My uncle guided us towards the couch by the front window. I am rather glad that we are near the natural lighting because my mother always liked to be near to nature.
The first order of business when my parents got their home was to limit the amount of fluorescent lighting. Instead the rooms had large windows that streamed in the sunlight. My favorite room would have to be the foyer of our home. My father was really ambitious in the architecture of that area. His reasoning was, "The entrance of the home tells everyone what they should expect. The foyer tells the guests what kind of people live in the home." I am not to sure of his reasoning but the area the was produced was gorgeous.
The foyer in our home has floor to ceiling windows in a circular pattern. My father found a stone basin from an old church that is in France. It used to be the container of the holy water but it was discarded with some of the renovations. While on a business trip my father happened by the auction and quickly bought the placed the piece it in the middle of the foyer as its center piece. He always fills the basin with fresh water and water lilies in honor of my mother.
The floors of the foyer is a cool stone that was imported from an old demolished building in Germany. Moisture always clings to these stones giving the room a cool effect. The ceiling is enchanting. It is made with mahogany oak beams, but woven along those beams are intricate vines that thrive seemingly out of nowhere. My mom, when she was still healthy, fed the vines some of her gift so that they could survive indoors.
When I was really young I would always sneak to the foyer with my sleeping bag and sleep there. One time I was caught by my mother, she simply blinked at me and then smiled. She motioned at me to stay quiet and to keep going to the foyer. Minutes later I was joined by her and we spent the night looking out the big windows to watch the night pass by. My father laughed at us in the morning when he discovered where we were.
At present I was sandwiched between my mother and father. It was like we were one big happy family again. But I am not disillusioned to think that; my father's leg is tense next to my own. Despite my letters telling them that I had my Gorgon curse somewhat under control I can just feel his unease with me being near my mother. I can not honestly blame him, but I wish he would trust me a little bit more. I wish he would be my father for once instead of my mother's keeper.
My aunt finally joined Vernon on the opposite sofa. I am guessing that Dudley left out the back door to meet with some of his friends. It kind of stings a little to think that my first defender in the household does not wish to say farewell to me. But I digress.
"It is so wonderful to see you again Lily. You look as lovely as the day you said farewell to us. James, you look just as handsome." My aunt was delivering the standard pleasantries that any hostess is meant to give.
"Oh Petunia! You look well yourself! I think that you look youthful with your short hair." My aunt actually puffed up a little with this compliment. I chanced a brief glance to her face and actually had to kind of agree with my mother. But I would never tell that to Petunia, she would smack me and say I was just being a smart aleck.
"What brings you both back to England? Are you settling back here or are you planning to travel some more?" My uncle was always a blunt man, but he was being particularly abrupt here. I know that he is just itching to get me away from his family.
My father barely bat an eye before he responded, "Yes actually we are planning to return to England. We feel that Harry needs to be with us again; Lily and I have missed him dearly." I believed that my mother missed me, but I think that my father was lying about himself.
"Oh, well we are going to miss the boy." I wanted to snort at my uncle's comment. He was not going to miss me, he might even through a party at my departure.
"Lils you must stay for dinner!" Petunia was still going to play the perfect host. I looked to my mother for the decision. The afternoon light on my mother's face made her look ethereal. I was simply staring at her face when her eyes caught mine. I quickly ducked my head to break the contact.
"That is okay Pet, we should really be getting home. I think that there will be some people waiting for us." I was relieved, staying here another minute would be torture for me.
Petunia adopted the proper sad look at the refusal but I knew her well enough to know that she to was relieved at our departure.
"Harry why don't you go and get cleaned up? You will be able to collect your belongings another day." I nodded in acceptance of my mother's demands and quickly went to my room. I started to dig for clothes that would be alright to leave the house in. I finally settled on a pair of grey slacks. They had a slight stain on the inside of the pant leg and were a little worn out but they were better than nothing. For the shirt I finally decided upon a white button up shirt. some of the buttons are missing but I improvised with an old green undershirt. It was simply going to have to do.
Taking my clothes I quickly went to the washroom. My bathroom breaks are limited to two fifteen minute sessions a day, so I am used to getting prepared in short times. This payed off today given the short notice that I had.
Quickly showering and grooming myself I slipped on the clothes. I looked better than I generally do everyday in the Dursley household, but it is a far cry from what I should look like next to my parents.
Calming my nerves I braced my shoulders and slipped out of the washroom to rejoin with my parents.
My father almost showed open disdain for the clothes but quickly hid it under his mask of indifference. My mother looked a little disheartened by my look. I felt terrible for making her feel that way.
"Well, we must be heading out. We should have dinner together some time, no?" My father calmly rose to his feet indicating our time to leave.
"Yes, we must!" My aunt was guiding us to the door. I froze for a second and realized an important factor. I did not have shoes. My eyes were quickly seeking out a way to remedy this situation when my uncle came forward.
"Ah, must not forget our shoes, eh boy?" Despite the deceptively light tone of voice the words were all a warning to me. 'Don't speak to your parents of what happened here boy.'
Nodding my head in thanks I slipped on the pair of old loafer that were once Dudley's and raced out towards my parents.
This is the first time in many years that I have been outdoors. I wanted to skip up and down the block and twirl around, but my father was motioning me to the car.
Calmly I walked to the car as if this was a common occurrence which I can assure you, is not. My parents rarely used a driver when I was younger, but it seems times have changed.
My mother calmly ushered me into the back of the Mercedes sedan were I was next to my mother. My father opted to sit in the passengers side of the driver to leave more room in the back. I was glad that I was getting this time with my mother.
Once inside my mother grabbed my hand to draw my attention. "I think that Sirius and Remus are going to be at the house. We sent cleaners and decorators earlier to get it ready. I am sure that the family will be there. It is so good to see you again my son."
She wrapped her arms firmly around me as we sped away from the hole that was my home for some of the worst years of my life.
End of Chapter 2
A/N: I am enjoying writing this story. I really feel the need to get out a solid chunk of chapters out quickly in order to establish Harry's world. I hope that you all are enjoying it too. Please review. I would like to hear encouragement. Hopefully not complaints, but beggars can't be choosers sometimes.
Please tell me what you think. Please.
WMBE