I just want to say to the two ppl who read and reviewed, sorry its been so late, I have been really busy with school (You know, because I go to school. ( I love you Kimmy!) I will try to update more regularly in the future. God bless!

Ch. 2

Harry fell back down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. I'll pretend I'm asleep, he thought, as the knocking on his door persisted.
"Harry, are you in there?'"
No, he thought sarcastically, I'm not here. I'm.somewhere that is not here.Oh I give up. "Yeah?"
"May I come in?"
"Sure."
There was a pause. Harry stared at the ceiling a little more, then realized that she was waiting for him to open the door. He slowly and reluctantly pushed himself up and dragged himself over to the door and pulled it open. In walked Aunt Petunia. She was a tall, skinny woman with pale eyes and an abnormally long neck. She also had adopted this look on her face that was a mixture of love and scorn. It made Harry sick to his stomach. His dread increased when he saw that she had a bag from a local department store with her.
"I went out today, and I have noticed that you're shoes have long since worn out," she said, while pulling out a box. "So I thought that you might like these."
The shoes would have been very nice, if he were forty and a big mama's boy. But unfortunately for Aunt Petunia, he was fifteen, not forty, and since he didn't have a mother, it was rather hard for him to be a mama's boy, so his dear aunt would have to take them back.
Harry didn't voice any of these thoughts, however, due to the fact that whenever he did voice his opinion, she got all defensive and sometimes there were tears, and then he would feel guilty, so he just learned to keep his mouth shut. Discretion was and important tool in the Dursley household.

"Umm.there nice Aunt Petunia, but.I don't really need any shoes."
Aunt Petunia had an indignant look on her face. "Oh yes, Harry, you do. Have you seen the bottom of your shoes?" Then she spoke in that extremely annoying whisper that Harry hated so much, like she was telling a huge secret or a bad joke. "The soles are all worn down! You'll get great blisters on your feet! Plus they're all grungy. I've tried washing them and I bleached them, and laid them out to dry, but it didn't do any good."
Harry tried to contemplate why a person would bleach leather tennis shoes, then shook his head, and said, "Yes, I do need new shoes, but I can get them myself. I would kind of like to pick them out and stuff. I mean, those"- he pointed to the "casual dress" tennis shoes- "Are really too dressy. I need something more hardy, because I work um, hard."
Aunt Petunia still had that stubborn look on her face. "Oh these are nice and sturdy. Maybe you should try them on and see if you like them and if you don't, I can always take them back. I'm the Queen of returns!" She laughed at her own joke. Harry smiled feebly. "Okay well, I'll leave them here and you try them on when you get a chance."
"Okay."
"You know it's because I love you."
"Yeah."
"I wouldn't bother if I didn't."
"I know."
The door closed again. Harry let the fake smile slip off his face, and sank down on the bed, letting out a huge sigh. The air always seemed so tense when she was in the room. He didn't even get why he was so annoyed by her. He would have thought that he would be happy that she had done a complete turn-around and now actually gave a crap. He guessed that he just wasn't used to all the love and attention, having been deprived of it for ten years. Harry turned out the light and closed his eyes. He didn't need to think about his emotional problems right now. He needed to concentrate on trying to sleep with his mouth open, because the room still smelled like Lysol.