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Chapter Five
Harry woke up the next morning, dreading the day ahead, as usual. He stared at the ceiling and hummed the Out of Eden song, Draw You Near, for it matched his mood perfectly:
I woke up on this morning
And misery surrounds me
And I am forced to face a day I didn't even want to begin
God knows I'm going through it, and it's hard to imagine I can make it this time
As my sadness mounts I pray that this day would end
Cry myself to sleep and then start again...
Harry was not feeling very happy this morning. He looked at his clock. It was 11:30. "Wow," he thought to himself, "She really let me sleep in." But as he also knew she disapproved of sleeping later than like, 10:00, he knew he had a lecture coming. He could just hear her now. "You should really get to bed earlier, then you'll be refreshed in the morning and you won't miss half of the day...you have your days and nights mixed up." UGH! He hated when she said that, which she said quite often. So, he devised an evil plan. He would make his bed, quickly take a shower and stuff, and act like he had been awake for a while; he just hadn't come downstairs yet. It was perfect. Heh, heh, heh...
So Harry proceeded with this, and it worked fairly well. At least, when he went downstairs Aunt Petunia didn't say anything to him. He got out the bread and margarine, and fixed himself some toast. Immediately, she started in on him.
"There's fruit in the refrigerator if you want it."
"Um, no thanks, I'll just—
"It's right here," Aunt Petunia took the little Tupperware container she had filled with sliced oranges and grapes out of the fridge, and showed it to him, like he was retarded and couldn't recognize fruit.
"I'll just get a banana," he said, clenching his fist. He didn't really want the banana, but he ate it just to get his aunt off of his back, which didn't work.
"You should eat more nutrition, just toast isn't gonna do it. And you're putting too much butter on it; it's loaded with fat. You can still eat, don't try to lose wait or anything by not eating, because that's not the right way..."
Harry was barely controlling himself. He was clutching the butter knife exceptionally hard as he ran it under the sink trying to get the "evil butter" off. Come on! It's not even butter! It's margarine! That's why the container says I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! And what's all the "not eating" about? I'm not trying to lose weight, have you seen me? I'm a freaking Ethiopian! (A/N: no offense to Ethiopians, I love Ethiopians, I'm just trying to make a point that Harry is really skinny, so don't hate me, I'm not racist. I LOVE BLACK PEOPLE!( ) I am wasting away! I need butter!
Harry wolfed down his toast and ran upstairs, Aunt Petunia still making suggestions on how he could be a better person. "I have got to get out of here, or I will do Voldemort a favor and kill myself...wait! Voldemort! That's it! That isn't really Aunt Petunia, that's one of Voldemort's evil henchmen, pretending to be Aunt Petunia, and acting all crazy so that I'll either kill myself or be pushed to insanity and have to be taken to St. Mungo's and spend the rest of my life signing autographs with Lockhart! Oh God! Help! Harry continued in this vein for some time before he settled down and realized that he was extremely paranoid. "No, it's not some evil scheme of Voldemort's," he thought, looking out the window and sighing, "My life just sucks. I hate my life."
Chapter Five
Harry woke up the next morning, dreading the day ahead, as usual. He stared at the ceiling and hummed the Out of Eden song, Draw You Near, for it matched his mood perfectly:
I woke up on this morning
And misery surrounds me
And I am forced to face a day I didn't even want to begin
God knows I'm going through it, and it's hard to imagine I can make it this time
As my sadness mounts I pray that this day would end
Cry myself to sleep and then start again...
Harry was not feeling very happy this morning. He looked at his clock. It was 11:30. "Wow," he thought to himself, "She really let me sleep in." But as he also knew she disapproved of sleeping later than like, 10:00, he knew he had a lecture coming. He could just hear her now. "You should really get to bed earlier, then you'll be refreshed in the morning and you won't miss half of the day...you have your days and nights mixed up." UGH! He hated when she said that, which she said quite often. So, he devised an evil plan. He would make his bed, quickly take a shower and stuff, and act like he had been awake for a while; he just hadn't come downstairs yet. It was perfect. Heh, heh, heh...
So Harry proceeded with this, and it worked fairly well. At least, when he went downstairs Aunt Petunia didn't say anything to him. He got out the bread and margarine, and fixed himself some toast. Immediately, she started in on him.
"There's fruit in the refrigerator if you want it."
"Um, no thanks, I'll just—
"It's right here," Aunt Petunia took the little Tupperware container she had filled with sliced oranges and grapes out of the fridge, and showed it to him, like he was retarded and couldn't recognize fruit.
"I'll just get a banana," he said, clenching his fist. He didn't really want the banana, but he ate it just to get his aunt off of his back, which didn't work.
"You should eat more nutrition, just toast isn't gonna do it. And you're putting too much butter on it; it's loaded with fat. You can still eat, don't try to lose wait or anything by not eating, because that's not the right way..."
Harry was barely controlling himself. He was clutching the butter knife exceptionally hard as he ran it under the sink trying to get the "evil butter" off. Come on! It's not even butter! It's margarine! That's why the container says I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! And what's all the "not eating" about? I'm not trying to lose weight, have you seen me? I'm a freaking Ethiopian! (A/N: no offense to Ethiopians, I love Ethiopians, I'm just trying to make a point that Harry is really skinny, so don't hate me, I'm not racist. I LOVE BLACK PEOPLE!( ) I am wasting away! I need butter!
Harry wolfed down his toast and ran upstairs, Aunt Petunia still making suggestions on how he could be a better person. "I have got to get out of here, or I will do Voldemort a favor and kill myself...wait! Voldemort! That's it! That isn't really Aunt Petunia, that's one of Voldemort's evil henchmen, pretending to be Aunt Petunia, and acting all crazy so that I'll either kill myself or be pushed to insanity and have to be taken to St. Mungo's and spend the rest of my life signing autographs with Lockhart! Oh God! Help! Harry continued in this vein for some time before he settled down and realized that he was extremely paranoid. "No, it's not some evil scheme of Voldemort's," he thought, looking out the window and sighing, "My life just sucks. I hate my life."
