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ON LOTTERIES AND LIFE CHANGES

There exists a rather interesting financial apparatus called the lottery, wherein multiple individuals pool together their meager resources to create a grand prize. Its ingenuity lies in the allure of the prize. The tantalizing hope that one can win big, perhaps life changing amounts of money is what drives people to buy lottery tickets, and ultimately, fuels the lottery as well.

VERNON DURSLEY

On a sunny Monday morning, Vernon Dursley of Grunnings was faced with an unpleasant decision to make. He was known to the others as a loud, genial man. A bit rambunctious and perhaps a tad pretentious, but the right sort - as most liked to believe. He was also rather vocal about how normal his family was - a rather odd subject to be vocal about none the less. For example, a chance meeting with Vernon on a monday morning usually went as follows :

Acquaintance - "Vernon old boy! How was the weekend?"

Vernon - "Ah, perfectly normal. Just as you would expect. A normal weekend with a normal family. Everything was as usual. And today's just another average monday I suppose."

It would then degenerate into a talk about footsie, their upcoming visit to the pub and (generally) Vernon's pride of his son and wife. No one really paid attention to the repetitive use of the word normal. To them it was a quirk of an otherwise upstanding gentleman. But as a result of his boasts, everyone knew that the Dursleys were a family of three. But now, Vernon was faced with a dilemma. In front of him lay a lottery ticket. The winning prize was a month-long vacation for four to the Far East. The cinch? The entries needed to have a family of four. Hence the dilemma. Should Vernon choose to entry the draw, then he would need to reveal to the rest of the world ( which was Little Whinging to him) the existence of his nephew - one Harry James Potter. What to do? Eventually greed won out. Picking up the form, he filled out the particulars. Even as he did so, he tried to spin a tale around his nephew, to his advantage. Perhaps he could look at the orphan angle? With his parents being the drunk freaks they were... Yes. That could work. As Dursley's pen glided over the form, his mind spun a story. The Lottery was organized by Grunnings after all. He knew what to say. Harry James Potter was his nephew, from Petunia's side of the family. His parents were a bunch of no-good drunkards, hanging out with the wrong crowd. Their revels went too far one night, and whilst driving home they crashed. Only the baby survived but he suffered brain damage. In order to safeguard his dear nephew and to raise him better, he and his wife decided to raise him quietly and get his...condition treated. Due to which they hadn't vacationed in over five years ( his nephew was six that year).

The story worked like a charm. Now all that was left was to wait and pray that he got the prize. With that cheerful thought in mind, Vernon proceeded to drive back home. As he hummed (badly off tune), he reflected on how he could break the news to Petunia. Perhaps he could talk about how their dratted freak of a nephew was finally of some use in the end - his tall tale helped raise others' views of the Dursleys after all. And there was also the chance of winning the lottery . That would be nice. As he pulled up to his house, he wondered what the freak was up to. Most likely cooking under Petunia's watchful eye. Oh the lengths Pet and he went to to raise that ungrateful ingrate. Completely unlike their Diddikins. Always demanding, an insolent brat, a waste of space...He shook himself from his thoughts and walked home.

"I'm home !"

PETUNIA DURSLEY

Other than punish the boy for his behavior, Petunia Dursley did not know what else to do. He, Harry, arrived at their doorstep in a bunch of blankets. Taking him into their home was one of the worst mistakes she had made. Including ever considering her sister as her sister. Just that day alone, he had already spoilt £20 worth of food. He had almost lost them £60 of bed linen. She was at her wits' end. Now you must understand that despite their portrayal of their selves as magnanimous upstanding folk, the Dursleys were in reality petty people. Petunia hated Lily for four reasons - she was more beautiful, she was smart, and after marriage, she was rich. And she had magic. To Petunia, Harry presented the perfect target to take out her years upon years of angst and frustration aimed at Lily. After all, he was her son. Six year old son, but son nevertheless. Hence his treatment at her hands. Whilst her precious Diddikins gorged himself on all manner of sweets and was spoiled something rotten, Harry was put to work. He was, in order to repay his relatives' kindness, to do three things. Never be seen, never be heard, and most importantly, to obey all their commands. He was, simply put, their malleable, pathetic boy-slave (A/N - No sexual abuse of a child mentioned or implied here by boy-slave.) As there were no records of Harry anywhere in 'their' world, they were free to do as they pleased without worrying about any...legal repercussions.

Harry, or Boy, (as Petunia liked to call him) would be woken up early in the morning to cook their meals, do the laundry and clean the house. Petunia would glare at him and 'direct' him through the process. If she directed him 'well' he'd have only a couple of bruises on his malnourished body to deal with. If she didn't or Vernon decided to step in...food would be the least of his concerns. On that particular day, Boy had made a few errors. He'd been feeling jittery all day, as if something. Something. Something big was going to happen. The last time he felt like this, he ended up doing Freakish stuff and was beaten black and blue. He remembered vividly what he had done amd what that had caused for him. Dudley Dursley had, in a fit, thrown a glass at him. In a fit of fear, he wished as hard as he could that it would just go away and not hurt him. To his amazement and his aunt and uncle's growing horror, the glass stopped an inch away from his face. The next thing he remembered, his uncle grabbed him and pulled him to the bathroom. (Warning : Child Abuse) Harry remembered asking his uncle 'Unca Ve'non hav' I done somethin' wvong? He was five at that time. 'Unca' Vernon said nothing. He continued to take off his belt whilst he gazed dispassionately at his nephew. As he nursed himself in his cupboard, five year old Harry reflected that more than the whipping, Vernon, not unca' Vernon's cold glare hurt him the most. On that day, young Harry learnt two things - don't do weird things, and that the Durselys were no relatives of his. With this in mind, Boy went through his day almost fearfully.

Just as he wrapped up dinner prep and scrambled into his cupboard under the stairs, he heard the words "I'm HOME" followed by the pitter patter of steps as Dudley and Aunt Petunia rushed to meet Vernon.