Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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No one looked up as Harry sat down. This wasn't unusual. The Dursleys typically acted as if Harry wasn't there at all, except to make him do chores. This didn't bother Harry too much, as when the Dursleys did take notice of him they were anything but pleasant.
Aunt Petunia gave Harry the smallest grapefruit quarter, as usual. Uncle Vernon was a bit less upset over living on "rabbit food" this summer because, Harry knew, he would always buy something from the bakery across the street from Grunnings as soon as he got to work.
Harry had again owled his friends for help and had a nice stash of food hidden away under the loose floorboard in his room, though it wasn't going very fast. Harry found he wasn't very hungry this summer.
When Vernon and Petunia weren't looking, Harry dumped his grapefruit quarter onto Dudley's plate(to his cousin's delight) and headed back upstairs.
Harry again sat and looked around his room. There were a variety of old broken things of Dudley's, a lot of very dusty books, Harry's school things, and a sleeping Hedwig. Nothing really interested Harry, and his mind returned to his dream.
That family... why did Voldemort want to kill that family? Was one of the parents an auror?
Voldemort had been out killing every night since his return. Harry reckoned he was making up for lost time. Harry could tell when the killing was more for fun or if it actually had a purpose - if it were fun he would torture them first. And every night, Harry would see it all in his dreams, feel it in his scar, wake up screaming.
Harry yawned. No, I'm not going to sleep! I *can't* dream again!
Harry wondered what would happen if he sent an owl to Madam Pomfrey asking for some Dreamless Sleep potion. He couldn't do that, then everyone would know something was wrong, and worry about him....
He opened his closet door and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked sad, but mostly sleep deprived. He had big dark circles under his eyes. And he was sad. Depressed, really. And tired, of course. *Very* tired.
"Harry! Get down here!" screeched Aunt Petunia. Harry groaned, but started down the stairs.
"Now," she said stiffly, looking angry at him for no good reason, as she always did. "You are going to mow the lawn - front AND back - fix up the flower beds, paint the garage, and wash my car. And you can't eat anything until you've finished, do you hear?"
Harry said nothing, but started off.
"Fix your hair!" barked Uncle Vernon.
Harry did nothing to tidy his hair, but started the lawnmower and started mowing the front lawn. All these chores! Dudley had to do nothing. Oh, but that was expected of course. Not like I don't deserve this or anything, all I am is a burden.
I don't want to be stuck with these people though. This miserable excuse for a family. Miserable - just like my life. Miserable... I'd like to see my parents again. Then I wouldn't be miserable, would I? No, I expect not. He kept on thinking like this for awhile. A long while, actually. He finished mowing the lawn and he fixed the flower beds as well. Now he was starting to paint the garage.
The sun was high up. Harry was hungry. He supposed it was about lunchtime. That, and he didn't eat any breakfast. He sighed. If only they could see the famous Harry Potter now, he thought bitterly, and sneered. He thought this often.
He slathered paint on the garage, though neatly enough so he wouldn't be punished, or have to do it over. He turned his face away and coughed at the fumes. Breathing them would be a very bad idea. They would make him light-headed and for all he knew he might fall asleep right in the driveway if he did something like that.
It was difficult, painting the garage. Trying not to pass out from the fumes(which was usually not that hard, but combined with how tired he was, was) was difficult business, but he managed, and then, finally, started washing Aunt Petunia's car.
Harry turned on the hose, getting an idea. He bent over and put his head under the flow of icy cold water. He shivered. It did wake him up, though. He finished washing the car and headed inside.
"Oh no you don't!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "You're soaking wet, I will NOT have you inside my house! Out, now, out with you! And don't come back until you're completely dry!"
Scowling, Harry went outside. This is so unfair. Hands in his pockets, he paced the front yard for over half an hour, stomach grumbling, until he was fairly dry, and went inside.
Wordlessly, Aunt Petunia shoved a bit of "rabbit food" at Harry, who quickly ate it, then went upstairs. Pig was waiting for him there, hooting excitedly around the room, Hedwig glaring up at him.
Harry caught Pig in midair, and untied the letter from his leg. Harry was glad Uncle Vernon was gone at work, or else... well, it wouldn't be very nice.
Harry-
What's up friend. Dumbledore's working on the Burrow right now. He says a few weeks...anyway, I just thought I'd send Pig along to say hi. I hope you write back.
See you,
Ron
Ron tries, he really does, he just doesn't understand. He just can't understand.
Ron-
Hi. Summer's as usual. The Dursleys are being prats as usual. Other than that, I'm good.
-Harry
Harry tied the letter to Pig, and Pig flew off.
It doesn't feel *good* to lie to Ron, but what else can I do?
Because I'm not good. I'm not.
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No one looked up as Harry sat down. This wasn't unusual. The Dursleys typically acted as if Harry wasn't there at all, except to make him do chores. This didn't bother Harry too much, as when the Dursleys did take notice of him they were anything but pleasant.
Aunt Petunia gave Harry the smallest grapefruit quarter, as usual. Uncle Vernon was a bit less upset over living on "rabbit food" this summer because, Harry knew, he would always buy something from the bakery across the street from Grunnings as soon as he got to work.
Harry had again owled his friends for help and had a nice stash of food hidden away under the loose floorboard in his room, though it wasn't going very fast. Harry found he wasn't very hungry this summer.
When Vernon and Petunia weren't looking, Harry dumped his grapefruit quarter onto Dudley's plate(to his cousin's delight) and headed back upstairs.
Harry again sat and looked around his room. There were a variety of old broken things of Dudley's, a lot of very dusty books, Harry's school things, and a sleeping Hedwig. Nothing really interested Harry, and his mind returned to his dream.
That family... why did Voldemort want to kill that family? Was one of the parents an auror?
Voldemort had been out killing every night since his return. Harry reckoned he was making up for lost time. Harry could tell when the killing was more for fun or if it actually had a purpose - if it were fun he would torture them first. And every night, Harry would see it all in his dreams, feel it in his scar, wake up screaming.
Harry yawned. No, I'm not going to sleep! I *can't* dream again!
Harry wondered what would happen if he sent an owl to Madam Pomfrey asking for some Dreamless Sleep potion. He couldn't do that, then everyone would know something was wrong, and worry about him....
He opened his closet door and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked sad, but mostly sleep deprived. He had big dark circles under his eyes. And he was sad. Depressed, really. And tired, of course. *Very* tired.
"Harry! Get down here!" screeched Aunt Petunia. Harry groaned, but started down the stairs.
"Now," she said stiffly, looking angry at him for no good reason, as she always did. "You are going to mow the lawn - front AND back - fix up the flower beds, paint the garage, and wash my car. And you can't eat anything until you've finished, do you hear?"
Harry said nothing, but started off.
"Fix your hair!" barked Uncle Vernon.
Harry did nothing to tidy his hair, but started the lawnmower and started mowing the front lawn. All these chores! Dudley had to do nothing. Oh, but that was expected of course. Not like I don't deserve this or anything, all I am is a burden.
I don't want to be stuck with these people though. This miserable excuse for a family. Miserable - just like my life. Miserable... I'd like to see my parents again. Then I wouldn't be miserable, would I? No, I expect not. He kept on thinking like this for awhile. A long while, actually. He finished mowing the lawn and he fixed the flower beds as well. Now he was starting to paint the garage.
The sun was high up. Harry was hungry. He supposed it was about lunchtime. That, and he didn't eat any breakfast. He sighed. If only they could see the famous Harry Potter now, he thought bitterly, and sneered. He thought this often.
He slathered paint on the garage, though neatly enough so he wouldn't be punished, or have to do it over. He turned his face away and coughed at the fumes. Breathing them would be a very bad idea. They would make him light-headed and for all he knew he might fall asleep right in the driveway if he did something like that.
It was difficult, painting the garage. Trying not to pass out from the fumes(which was usually not that hard, but combined with how tired he was, was) was difficult business, but he managed, and then, finally, started washing Aunt Petunia's car.
Harry turned on the hose, getting an idea. He bent over and put his head under the flow of icy cold water. He shivered. It did wake him up, though. He finished washing the car and headed inside.
"Oh no you don't!" Aunt Petunia shrieked. "You're soaking wet, I will NOT have you inside my house! Out, now, out with you! And don't come back until you're completely dry!"
Scowling, Harry went outside. This is so unfair. Hands in his pockets, he paced the front yard for over half an hour, stomach grumbling, until he was fairly dry, and went inside.
Wordlessly, Aunt Petunia shoved a bit of "rabbit food" at Harry, who quickly ate it, then went upstairs. Pig was waiting for him there, hooting excitedly around the room, Hedwig glaring up at him.
Harry caught Pig in midair, and untied the letter from his leg. Harry was glad Uncle Vernon was gone at work, or else... well, it wouldn't be very nice.
Harry-
What's up friend. Dumbledore's working on the Burrow right now. He says a few weeks...anyway, I just thought I'd send Pig along to say hi. I hope you write back.
See you,
Ron
Ron tries, he really does, he just doesn't understand. He just can't understand.
Ron-
Hi. Summer's as usual. The Dursleys are being prats as usual. Other than that, I'm good.
-Harry
Harry tied the letter to Pig, and Pig flew off.
It doesn't feel *good* to lie to Ron, but what else can I do?
Because I'm not good. I'm not.