Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if that's you.

Author's Note: Harry has always been an outsider at Privet Drive.

Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Hogwarts (Term 10); MC4A
Individual Challenges: Click Bait It; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Gryffindor MC; In a Flash; Advice from the Mug
House: Hufflepuff
Assignment No.: Term 10 – Assignment 9
Subject (Task No.): Wandlore (Task #6: Write about an outsider.)
Representation(s): Child Abuse; Harry Potter
Bonus Challenges: Nontraditional; Peddling Pots
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: T3 (n/a); SN (Rail; Spare)
Word Count: 579

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On the Outside, Looking In
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Harry Potter was not having a good day. To be truthful, it was not a good summer. There were good things about it. His family didn't know that he couldn't do magic outside of school, so they were not as bad as they had been in the past. This meant that while Harry had just as many chores as before, he also had at least something to eat every day, even if it was just a cheese sandwich.

Normally, this would have been a great improvement on Harry's life, but Harry had become accustomed to the food at his school and its variety. He had also gotten used to having his friends around him. They had promised to write Harry, but it was three weeks into summer vacation now and still not a single letter from any of them. He didn't blame any of them, but it was rather disappointing. He had really thought that they had liked him, especially Ron and Hermione.

Harry was lonely. Dudley was not much of a conversationalist, even if he was willing to talk instead of beating up Harry. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia preferred to pretend that Harry didn't exist unless it was to give him chores or punishments. Harry had no friends at Privet Drive from before he left for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dudley had made sure than any of the kids who showed Harry even a bit of kindness learned to leave him alone. Aunt Petunia took care of driving away any neighbors who showed any interest in him.

Harry sighed deeply as he yanked on yet another weed. This one was tangled among the brambles of Aunt Petunia's prized rose bush. It was also being stubborn, not wanting to release its hold on the soil. He yanked again, just as futilely as ever. He tried not to sigh again.

Life at Privet Drive had never been as bad as it was right now.

He wished that he had never gone to Hogwarts. If he had never gone to Hogwarts, he would not know how good life could be. He would never know what it felt like to be a part of something rather than being stuck on the outside looking in. True, he felt a little bit like that at Hogwarts as well, because of the whole Boy-Who-Lived thing giving people the idea that he was more, well, everything than he really was, but he was still considered a part of the wizarding world. He was not considered part of the world that consisted of Privet Drive.

He understood now why Alice had preferred Wonderland and why Dorothy longed for Oz. There was something to be said about being a part of something, even if it didn't always make sense and was dangerous. After having experienced how wonderful life could be, who would really wish for mundanity? After experiencing what it was like to have friends, who would wish for isolation and loneliness?

Harry gave the weed another yank, overbalancing backwards when it came loose suddenly. Stars burst before his eyes when his head thumped against the ground. It took a moment to recognize that the growing pain in the center of his chest was due to him not breathing. He forced himself to take a breath, which burned all the way down but got his body to remember what it was supposed to do. He stared at the bright blue sky that stretched cloudless overhead.

God, he hated Privet Drive.