Thunder rolled over the grey skies of Privet Drive, shooting rain and hail onto the muddy brown rooftops, as the flowers; once lifeless and wilted from heat, faced open towards the skies, soaking in all the water. Cars that had once been stood out on front porches for display had retreated to their garages, safe from the harm of the storm. Cats, Dogs and other animals which had once stood dictatoring in the drive were now in the comfort of their lounges, being spoilt by their owners, and the infestation of millipedes on the front of number 4 that Petunia Dursley; a resident of this particular house, had spent all summer trying to destroy, had recoiled into the drain.
It was nearing the evening and Petunia Dursley and her family; consisting of her husband Vernon Dursley, son Dudley (who she took great pride in) and un-wanted nephew Harry who had been abandoned on her doorstep 15 years before, were all sat down in the living room watching the T.V. Harry had to avoid eye contact with the others, otherwise he'd be subject to the frosty glares he had been receiving all summer. It wasn't new to him though, being ill treated by the Dursleys. Since the second he arrived, he'd been singled out, victimised and put down and all because of something Harry only discovered on his eleventh birthday. Harry wasn't a normal boy you see. Harry was a wizard.
The three Dursleys and Harry were all gathered around the T.V watching the evening news when Harry decided to return to his room. Getting up out of the armchair closest to the fireplace, Harry yawned, stretching his arms and legs. He was just about to start walking out when this was soon accompanied by an awkward glance and interrogation from Uncle Vernon. "What do you think you're doing boy!" Uncle Vernon snapped, jumping to his feet and his greying moustache wrinkling up his face.
"I'm returning to my room," Replied Harry, in a tone as if to spell out to Uncle Vernon that it was a perfectly normal thing to do.
"Don't take that tone with me boy," Uncle Vernon spat, "You've been acting strange ever since you returned from that freak school of yours. We know you're up to something and that something weird is going on. First you're wearing nail polish, next you're wearing skirts and then you're listening to Liza Monelli! Don't try convincing us that it's normal. I know you're malformed boy yes, but even your lot…" Petunia jumped, "Sssh Vernon. The neighbours might hear…" She hissed. "Oh…erm…sorry," Vernon lowered his voice, "Even your lot don't act this weird."
Harry sighed. "I've told you before. It's homework. Do you ever listen?" Harry could see the rage swelling and brightening up in Uncle Vernon's face, but bolted out of the living room, up the stairs and into the bedroom before he could be punished. Harry slammed the bedroom door behind him quickly, pressing his back against it, catching his breath. Reaching out to his bedside cabinet for a letter from Dumbledore that had arrived the previous day, Harry thought to himself. The Dursleys had had their suspicions earlier in the holidays, but now Uncle Vernon was certain something was going on, and was adamant to find out what. Harry panicked. What if they did find out? They'd kick him out for sure. They didn't approve of those sorts of people. Unfolding the carefully quilled letter, Harry began to read:
Dear Harry,
Sorry I haven't taken the time to write to you for a short while. As you know, due to me previously informing you, I have been undergoing 'You know what.' 'You know what,' was a great success and I feel a whole deal better for it. I also managed to get a look at Egypt's famous wizarding museums. They were very interesting but I was almost attacked by one of the ancient cauldrons. I think you should seriously consider my advice about 'You know what,' and 'You know who.'
Please reply soon,
Dumbledore xXx
Harry folded the letter back up and upon placing it back under the loose floorboard, sighed. He was so confused. Dumbledore's advice was sensible and Harry wanted to act on it, but he would have to answer to the Dursleys and probably all his friends and fellow students at Hogwarts. He was so confused, he felt torn between the two. Climbing into his bed and placing his glasses on his bedside cabinet, Harry decided to sleep on it and ponder some more the next morning.