Harry didn't know much growing up with the Dursleys, but he understood one thing. To always be grateful that they didn't treat him worse.
From gardening since he was five, to cooking and cleaning while living in a cupboard, Harry understood that one lesson.
But this gratitude did not preclude retaliation. As Harry, in one of his fits, stuck in the cupboard for something that Dudley did, that he had stolen twenty pounds from Uncle Vernon's wallet, wished with all his might that the Dursleys would be robbed.
And lo and behold, the next day, all Vernon's stocks dropped by at least fifty percent, wiping out their savings.
Harry was sure of one thing, and that was that he was grateful to the Dursleys for them not treating him worse.
As Harry scribbled in his ten year old hand writing in a journal in the cupboard, Harry wrote down various fates for the Dursleys, from being arrested and them being locked up for years, to losing all their money permanently. And all the time, Harry has one thought, and that is that he is forever grateful that he was not treated worse by them.
Harry was disturbed away from his thoughts by a cold whisper in his mind. "Kill them all" it whispered.
Harry was used to such thoughts, and sometimes gets them every now and then. But even these whispers, or the Dursleys, can get Harry distracted by what he had been anticipating all month. Next week was to be his birthday at the end of July, and he couldn't wait to turn eleven.
Harry was not looking forward to the looming school year ahead, one where the teachers treated him as if he didn't exist, or that Dudley and his gang would pick on him, but instead one more year closer to growing up and being able to leave the Dursleys.
"But you don't have to wait. Just run away."
The whispers in his mind reminded Harry of a large sea dinosaur in the deep ocean, a basilosaurus, swimming around, while Harry was stuck treading water. Harry always gets panicked around it, especially when it mocks him by claiming to be behind the killing of his parents and making him an orphan.
But Harry knows one thing, and that was to be grateful to the basilosaurus that the basilosaurus did not do worse. Mind, Harry's goal was to have a quilt made out of basilosaurus skin, and to reinforce his gratitude to a whole new level.
But Harry separated himself from those thoughts and instead focused on his upcoming birthday. He couldn't wait.
There was a rapping on the door, as Aunt Petunia in her shrill voice announced the new day to Harry. "Wake up, time to make breakfast."
And so Harry got up and waited for his cupboard door to be unlocked, before venturing out into the hall, and down into the kitchen.
Aunt Petunia, a skinny woman in her early middle age, was not immune to the collapse in their stocks, and lost a great deal as well. Harry had to hide a smirk thinking about it. It was a glorious morning, where Harry, finishing the breakfast table, and receiving his daily dose of Uncle Vernon insults, was getting ready to do the dishes when Uncle Vernon opened the paper.
There was a shuffling, then a small gasp. A giant rip went through the room as Uncle Vernon tore up the paper, and then a glimmer of hope crossed his face "the paper's wrong" he mumbled. He had then lunged to the telephone to phone his broker, who confirmed the great news: he had lost more than half of all his savings.
Harry wiped the smirk off his face when Aunt Petunia twirled around with the ingredients. "Its three slices of bacon each, with two eggs, two sausages, and a glass of orange juice."
Harry bent his head down and focused on his work, minding not to get in her way.
Harry didn't hate the Dursleys, he just felt gratitude towards them.
After a breakfast where Uncle Vernon finished his routine arsenal of insults "stupid boy", "incompetent", "better off without", Harry went back to his cupboard to "enjoy" his summer break from school.
Alone in the cupboard, his thoughts inevitably wandered back to the basilosaurus. "Harry do you want to know why I killed your parents" it whispered. "The same reason I did many things: to create hate. Hate shouldn't exist, it is a sickness. But as long as it is possible, it needs to be dealt with. That is the cycle; to cause hate, and then to allow a break to deal with it and recover; and then to be exposed to hate all over again."
Harry listened to the basilosaurus, while focusing on drawing doodles in his book.
"You see it on the tv all the time. Everyone does it. A reason to hate sweeps off the globe, enslaving, colonizing, eradicating a group; giving them a reason to hate. And then a period of recovery is allowed, before another wave of hate sweeps across again. All so that people can deal with hate, so that they can contribute to the cosmic healing of hatred. I am but a herald."
Harry didn't doubt that the basilosaurus could cause hatred, as it certainly caused a lot of fear. But his causing of hatred could be another reason to skin it, and be grateful for its smooth skinned sheets keeping him in comfort at night. And to be grateful that the basilosaurus hadn't treated him worse.
Harry went back to doodling, looking forward to his birthday next week. What made it even better was that the Dursleys would be going to the zoo without him, leaving him alone in the house all to himself. Maybe he could eat an extra meal from the fridge. Or worse comes to worse and he gets a babysitter who is definitely not the Dursleys. Which would be a break all in itself.