Harry lay on his lumpy bed in the under-the-stairs cupboard, he'd been lying there for what felt like hours but could easily have been days. He was starving, so badly, that as he lay on his bed he'd contemplated eating his own shoes (they were leather, so it'd be do-able). He'd been trying to get out of the cupboard for a long time. After Uncle Vernon came back with Petunia, Dudley and Piers; Harry tried to reason his way out of the cupboard, he tried to yell and scream his way out, he'd tried everything short of picking the lock and was also contemplating bashing the door down. He was about to get up and try when the small vent on the door opened.

'Boy! Are you awake?' Came Petunia's sharp voice.

Harry groaned. 'Yes. I am. Can you please let me out? I'm cold and hungry.'

Petunia laughed. 'We might let you out. We might even feed you! It'll only happen if, if, you apologise to Duddykins for what happened to him. It has to be good as well, or we'll force a good one out of you!'

Harry thought for a moment. Apologising to Dudley wasn't going to go well, as seeing Dudley was always looking for a chance to bully Harry, not that he every really lacked those, so he knew he'd get a hell of a beating. On the other hand, staying in this cupboard was a sure fire way to starve himself to death. 'I'll say this for the record and for the record only. I don't know how the glass on the enclosure vanished like that. I am fairly certain that I had nothing to do with it.' Harry said, desperately trying to get the whole thing over with as quickly as he could. He waited for a second for Petunia to interrupt him; she didn't so Harry kept talking. 'However, I will apologise to my cousin, under the assumption that was my fault.'

Petunia was silent for a stretch of seconds that just dragged on for what felt like hours. 'Where'd you learn to speak like that?' She snapped. 'I'll let you apologise if you tell me that!'

Harry sighed. 'The Oxford English Dictionary eighth edition.'

The door to the cupboard swung open and light flooded the tiny room. Harry had been there so long that he forgot what darkness and light were but sure remembered now. Petunia, in the time it took Harry to get his bearings, had walked in and thrown him roughly into the hallway. 'Dudley is waiting for you in the kitchen.'

Harry staggered up to the door leading to the kitchen and carefully swung it open. He expected to see Dudley's hulking mass at the table waiting to lunge at him… but he wasn't there. Harry was about ask if this all an elaborate joke, when a frying pan came out of nowhere and hit Harry brutally in the face. Harry was knocked out well and truly.

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Author's notes: Sorry for the "I have no idea how long" wait for this chapter. School holidays are coming up so I might get a bit more done then.