Hunger
Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.
And yet something rather unusual was taking place in their hallway. A boy emerged silently from the cupboard under the stairs, the latch had been opened expertly so it didn't make a sound. The boy shook a spider from his hair and padded down the hallway.
In the ten years that he had been there, Privet Drive really hadn't changed very much at all- not that Harry Potter cared. He quickly began rummaging through the drawers and cupboards in the kitchen, stopping when someone rolled over in their sleep upstairs or murmured something in a dream. When this happened his heart would beat uncontrollably, certain that they would run down stairs and he would be found out.
With an armful of chocolate bars, biscuits and crisps he crept into the living room and sat carefully on the sofa. The only light to see by was the little that snuck in from the lights outside. It glinted off the metal photo frames that were hung on the walls and across the mantelpiece, even though it was impossible to see the pictures, Harry knew what was there. Numerous pictures of his cherished cousin- riding a bike he got for Christmas, playing a computer or being hugged by his mother.
It was sickening, Harry thought as taste exploded along his tongue from a salt and vinegar crisp. He probably ate too much. Whilst he wasn't nearly as fat as that carcass his cousin hauled about, he had been very distressed to realise that it was now difficult to see his feet. However he was always reassured by the looseness of the hand-me-downs from his cousin and kept coming back for more food.
It was comforting, he supposed as he tiptoed up stairs. The wrappers and packets were artfully scattered around his cousins' bedroom, (who slept like the dead anyway, so Harry wasn't too worried about the rustling awaking him).
The summer holidays would be starting soon, and although this meant he wouldn't have to worry about being tired at school- or anything to do with school. He couldn't help but feel a pang or irritation at how much more difficult this would make his ritual. The Dursley's very often stayed up till the early hours during the Holidays. It was going to be very tedious.
A/N: It is my intention to continue this…but that doesn't mean a lot. Sorry if it's awful.