Disclaimer: I do not own HP, J. K. Rowling does, duh.

It was an ordinary morning; only today Harry had woken up much earlier, for some unfathomable reason. So now he was sleeping on his bed, in his room. If you can call a cupboard a room, that is.

H e was staring in darkness, as he really couldn't see anything and hummed quietly a song he just invented:"And why should we run,

From the Fate that'll come?

We can't hide, be gone,

What would we become?

Our faces are masks,

With eyes only shining,

With hope and with love,

So brightly, it's blinding.

As time will soon lose meaning,

My friends will come, beaming,

Our masks will start to crack…

But that's just pure luck."

He finally sighed, hearing his Aunt screeching, quite suddenly:"Boy! Come here and fast!" she banged the door of his cupboard:"Hurry up! And stop mumbling!"

The green-eyed boy sighed once again, cause` he knew that he probably won't have any chance to do it later, at least `till the evening.

"I'm coming!" he called to his aunt, loud enough for her to hear, but also quietly enough, so she wouldn't become angry.

He hurriedly got out of his bed and put on his clothes, looking around for his sock, he finally spotted it under the bed. He shooed away a spider that looked very comfortable indeed just sitting on his sock. He also tried to comb his hair a little, but that, as usual, was a failure, seeing as he didn't even had anything to brush his hair with.

After a few seconds he opened the door of the cupboard, closing them and went towards the kitchen. When he finally got there he saw his Aunt, running around, like there was no tomorrow. She looked up from whatever she was doing and a scowl formed on her features:"Oh, it's just you. Well? What are you waiting for? Start making breakfast!" she clapped her hands twice to emphasize her words and sneered at his direction.

Harry mentally rolled his eyes, used to this sort of thing happening every morning and went to the fridge to get eggs and bacon.

Minutes later Uncle Vernon came down to the kitchen, giving a "Good morning, dear" and a brief kiss on her cheek to Aunt Petunia, then turning and giving a glare and a grunt at Harry's direction, that Harry decided, was some kind of greeting. He and his Uncle Vernon were in odds, because neither could tolerate each others presence for long, but still had some sort of underlying respect for each other. Harry was a prodigy, no doubt about it, and even they both held grudge against him, seeing as their son was nowhere as intelligent as Harry, they could stand him by their side. Well, at least for a few minutes.

Actually, life with the Dursleys weren't that bad to live with, although he never had had a normal childhood, as they were trying to make his life miserable. But by now it had became kind of like a routine and was normal for them.

Harry was once again startled out of his thoughts as there were some loud footsteps and the kitchen door was banged open, following by a loud cry:"Morning Mum and Dad!"

Of course, it was Dudley. Who else in this house made such a loud footsteps that it sounded like there was an elephant in their house?

As Uncle Vernon sat down, Harry put on pile of scrambled eggs and bacon on his plate. His Uncle grunted in approval, before dismissing him with a wave of his hand. He looked around, frowning at what he was not seeing. "Dudley! Get the mail!"

"Make Harry do it!"

"Harry got the mail!"

"Make Dudley do it!" Harry shot back. If there was one person he surely did hate, then it was Dudley. The boy just couldn't seem to stand him, for being better than him.

"Dudley, poke him with your fork."

Harry dodged the forks-poke-of-the-doom, before standing from where he had sat down and went to get the mail. "O` course, it's always me." He mused, bending down to pick up the letters. "Let's see… bill, bill, bill, a Playboy magazine, bill, bill, oh, another bill! Hn, a postcard from Marge, bill, bill, bill, a newspaper – finally! Bill, bill, bill, a letter for Mr. Harry Pitter, bill, bill, bill…. Wait, what?" he blinked down at the thick letter, written with a poisonous green ink.

Indeed, to Mr. Harry Potter was written there, clear and real.

"Parchment!" Harry thought in disbelief. Then his eyes gained that glazed look once again, before he grinned. "It's so cool! Kinda romantic too, like something from the Middle Ages! "

He put the letter under his shirt, being intelligent enough, not to read it here. "Better wait until the evening." He thought and hurried back to the kitchen, as he heard his Uncle Vernon starting to get impatient.

Harry went back and gave his Uncle the newspaper, before trying to slide out of the kitchen.

Unfortunately for him, his Aunt noticed his sneaky movement.

"Where do you think you're going? Get back here! You still have a work to do!" she huffed.

Harry heaved a mental sigh. "It was worth to try…"

A.N. Hello everyone! I want to say Thanks to all of you for alerts and favorites! Hope you like this!

And yes, I invented that little poem-song-thingy. It's not the really good, but the best one I could come up with in such a short time ^^ Please tell me if there are any mistakes, so I can fix them, if needed! Sorry for the short chapters, but exams are coming up and I don't have very much time to write.

Enjoy!