A/N: Alas, here is chapter 2! Now I have some explanations to make… Throughout the chapters I will leave hits as to what country, Petunia, Dudley, and Harry reside in. Also, because of not living with his father and not being particularly spoilt, Dudley is a much more pleasant person. I think perhaps I'll show a bit more of that in the next couple of chapters so read carefully.

Sou85a: I'm glad to know that someone with similar problems as what Harry has approves of this so far. Of course, you're only seeing Harry on a particularly good day with very little interaction with characters that Harry doesn't get along with. Here's Chapter 2…

Disclaimer: Okay, I know I forgot to put this in with Chapter 1 but I was writing when I was extremely tired and totally forgot. I don't own Harry Potter or any other related characters except for Miss Bradley, Mrs. Peterson, Miss Hart, Miss Daniels, and the old lady that lives in the same apartment complex as Petunia, Dudley, and Harry. I will probably make up more characters since I am forever imagining such characters for the sake of creativity, and I will say if I own them or not. I feel that this is a turning point in my writing ability and that this will be one of those fics that I will finish, no matter how long it takes, just like I plan to with my other fics, even though I'm distracted by this one right now.

Butterfly

Chapter 2: Frustration

"Harry, you need to get back to work, the other boys and girls are much further along than you are." Came the cold voice of Miss Daniels. Harry automatically snapped out of his daydreams and looked up fearfully at the dark-haired woman. He suddenly remembered his Uncle yelling at him about how he was too slow and never did anything right. His bottom lip trembled and tears threatened to fall. "Harry, don't look at me like that, you know you have work to do." She said again, gesturing to the nearly half finished math paper. Thankfully before she could say any more, Miss Hart interfered.

"Miss Daniels, I think I'll take over here." She said to her colleague before kneeling down by the clearly upset Harry. "Harry… Sweetie, calm down. You and I both know that Miss Daniels isn't going to hurt you. We'd never let anyone here hurt you or any of the other students. I know she's strict and sounds mean, but I know that in her heart, she doesn't really mean to be that way." Harry's upper lip stopped quivering and she could see his body relax. "Now, lets see what we can do about this math paper."

"O-okay…" Harry slowly said, finally turning to the paper in front of him.

It wasn't long before Harry finished the paper with the ever-so-patient help of Miss Hart. The next activity for the day was arts and crafts. Mrs. Peterson had explained to the class in a patient way, much like Miss Hart did when helping any student, that they would be making Thanksgiving Picture Frames from colored construction paper, some Popsicle sticks, and glue. Each student was given materials by the teacher and the aides.

Soon enough, Harry cast away all that surrounded him as he delved deep into the project, more enthusiastic about it than a cat would be about chasing a mouse. His Aunt Petunia always liked projects like these because they made their apartment look all the more homely. Harry loved them because arts and crafts were his specialty. Even Miss Daniels couldn't deny that. Harry focused hard on cutting out paper feathers as perfect as he could manage. With only a little assistance from Mrs. Peterson, Harry had the Popsicle frame made and was soon on to decorating it with the feathers he had cut out. It was perfect. Miss Hart helped Harry put on a square sheet of plastic in the inside so that when a picture was placed inside, it would be well protected. Then she also helped put on a backing.

All too soon for Harry's tastes, the arts and crafts time was soon over with the promise of more Thanksgiving projects in the next few weeks of school. The Principal announced that there wouldn't be any recess that day and that students must find indoor activities to participate in. Harry hated being stuck indoors. When he was younger, his aunt had learned this and made a point to take him and Dudley out to the park every single day. His Uncle had always made such a fuss about it drawing too much attention to them. Luckily that was years ago, but Harry still remembered. He always remembered those years spent in Privet Drive in his nightmares.

In an effort to keep all the students at peace, Miss Hart put out paper, crayons, and markers at one of the round tables in the room. Harry immediately went for the crayons and paper, starting a new drawing that he could put on his bedroom door or perhaps even the refrigerator. He drew Dudley and himself walking to school in their raincoats and boots, the rain pouring down in an unrelenting fury from the gloomy, dark clouds above them. He drew the puddles that littered the sidewalk and streets. He drew the trees being blown by the wind. All in all, he drew a very nice picture. The drawing versions of Harry and Dudley were both grinning, their cheeks pink because of the cold. His Aunt Petunia was sure to love it.

Of course, all this only took the better part of twenty minutes, and all too soon, the bell signaling that recess was over rang clearly, pushing Harry out of his coloring frenzy. The classroom door opened almost immediately to reveal Miss Bradley, a kind, elderly lady with graying hair pulled back into a tight bun. She wore a blue denim dress and glasses with silver rims. Seeing Harry holding his newest piece of art, she smiled warmly at the boy. In her hands was a children's book titled "The Little Red Hen". One that Harry had wanted to try to read the last time they had worked together, but hadn't had enough time. Then Harry had come down with the flu really badly and hadn't been able to go to school.

"Harry!" Miss Bradley cried in joy as the dark-haired boy ran up to her enthusiastically. "How are you feeling?"

"B-better, Miss B-Bradley." He replied with a slight stutter. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, that stutter would never go away. He'd had speech therapy with other special teachers much like Miss Bradley. In fact, he still had occasional help with his speech, but not as often as he used to.

"Well that's good. I hope you remember last time when you said you wanted to try and tackle "The Little Red Hen", because that's exactly what we're going to try to do today." The elderly lady said, giving Mrs. Peterson a reassuring look before taking the boy's hand and leading him out to the hallway. As usual during class time, the halls were barren and made Harry feel small and more alone than usual.

"Miss B-Bradley?"

"Yes, Harry?" She replied, looking down at the boy with a curious look.

"D-do you th-think tha-that the rain will s-stop so w-we can go ou-out-s-side to-tomorrow?" He looked up hopefully at his lady companion, the glimmer of hope shinging brightly in his emerald irises.

"I don't know, Harry. But I do hope so. I rather detest storms because it keeps little boys like you, inside and can make them more ready to throw fits." She answered, lightly squeezing the boy's small hand reassuringly.

"I hope it-it stops t-too because I wa-want to p-play S-soccer tomorrow." Harry replied.

"I don't know about that Harry, even if the rain stopped right now, tomorrow the soccer field will still be soaked and there will be mud puddles all over. I don't think your Aunt would want to have to get out of work early to bring you a change of clothes."

"Oh y-yeah…" Harry said softly, hanging his head in defeat. He desperately wanted to go out and play in the sun. It made him forget about how much trouble he had with everything else, like reading and spelling among other things.

Soon enough they were at the school library sitting down with a small jar of sugar free candies and Harry was slowly working his way through "The Little Red Hen".

"'N-not I-I' s-said t-he…" Miss Bradley stopped Harry at that bit.

"Try that last word again. Remember, you read it okay on the cover."

"O-okay…" Harry replied, and then continued. "Th-the d-do-dog. 'N-no-not I' s-said the c-cat. 'N-not I-I' sa-said th-the mou-m-mouse. 'Th-the-then I w-wi-will' said the li-little r-red h-he-hen." Harry stumbled through the words. Simple as they supposedly were, they were Harry's own personal Kryptonite. There wasn't anything that made him feel worse than not being able to read something as simple as "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" by Dr. Seuss or even "The Little Red Hen".

"I'm sorry Harry, we're running out of time and I'm sure you've got a lot to catch up on in regular class. You can keep the book if you like." Miss Bradley said, looking immensely sorry for having to make him stop even though he was so very close to the end.

"Thank Y-you, Miss B-Bradley." Harry closed the book and clutched it tightly.

"Here, consider this a welcome back present." Miss Bradley took out a bag filled with sugar free candies, some toy cars, and a writing journal like the ones his cousin Dudley used. It also had some art supplies such as a pack of crayons and a pad of drawing paper.

"W-wow… T-thank y-you…" He stuttered, unable to truly express how grateful he was for the gifts.

"Just make sure you share those candies with your cousin Dudley. I wouldn't want him feeling left out."

"O-okay." Soon they were at the door of Harry's classroom.

"See you on Wednesday, Harry. You take care and make sure you try to read that book all the way through."

"I-I w-will." And with that he pushed his way through the classroom door, carefully tucked his book and gifts into his backpack, and joined the rest of the class. They were working on writing and Miss Hart immediately gave Harry a piece of writing paper and whispered instructions to him. He was to write about a dream he had or just make up a story. Harry's spelling wasn't very good but he tried his best.

Last nit I haded a dreem that I woz on a fliing mortercicle. It woz big and blac. Tehn I saw a flas of green lite.

Harry strained his mind to remember more of the dream but found that he couldn't. He stared at the paper, knowing that he had too many spelling mistakes that he couldn't remedy all by himself. Little did he know, this dream was just a hint of his past.

Four years before, far, far away in another country, an tall old man with twinkling blue eyes, long white hair and beard sat in his office, a contemplative frown on his face. In front of him sat an old lady who smelled of cabbage and was holding a grey tabby in her arms. Her hair was graying and she eyed the old man severely.

"Albus Dumbledore, I told you something wasn't right at that house! Apparently Potter has been gone from Privet Drive for almost a month now. I told you something was odd but you never listened!" she fumed.

"Arabella, please, I'm sure Harry is quite safe." The man called Dumbledore replied in a calm manner.

"Albus, don't you dare interrupt me. I wasn't finished." Arabella looked even more furious with the older man.

"Then please continue." He replied, taking a sip of tea from the cup that sat on his desk.

"That's not all, Albus. Petunia Dursley and her son Dudley have been missing too. That Vernon Dursley has been drinking heavily ever since. Last I saw of him he was lying in the front yard with a bottle of whiskey in each hand! Wherever Harry Potter has gotten to, I'll bet my collection of buttons that Petunia Dursley and Dudley Dursley are with him. At night I hear that awful Dursley man calling out for his Dinky Diddy Dums and his Pretty Petunia. I want to know what is going on!"

"Of course, Arabella. I will send someone to find out as much as possible."

Four Years Later, an unpleasant looking man with greasy black hair that hung limp at his shoulders, with a hooked nose, and wearing a black trench coat, a black t-shirt, black dress pants, and black leather boots sat in an airplane with another man who had brown flecked hair which was neatly combed, he looked quite ill and wore a brown suit with patches all over. He seemed pleasant enough and both talked to each other. If someone were to listen closely to what they were saying, they would hear something about Muggles, a Potter, and various cursing coming especially from the man clad in black.

A/N: Okay I think this was a little bit longer than the first but I can't be sure. Any guesses as to what country these two men are headed for? Any guesses as to who these two men are?