After he's made breakfast for his Relatives, and been shooed back to his cupboard, Harry re-reads the letter, that appeared on his pillow this morning, for the 3rd time. As he hears Dudley slam the door on his way to meet up with his gang at the park, Harry reverently folds the letter neatly, and carefully puts it behind the support for the third step, behind all of his other treasures. Before pushing his door open, he moves his head around to make absolutely sure that it can't be seen from the door, or as far as Vernon could squeeze into the space. He feels the extra effort is warranted after Vernon destroyed the second letter he's ever had addressed to him at breakfast of all things.
Once he's happy it can't be seen, Harry sits back against the wall of his cupboard and begins to smile broadly, long practice enabling him to stop laughing out loud. He has magic, and so did his great grandparents! He's not a freak, he's just special like them, and there's an entire world of people like him out there! And he's going to get a Hogwarts letter!
His smile vanishes when he remembers the fate of his grandmother's brothers and sisters, and that he might disappear one night. Poof, gone, and his name in a small article in the paper asking if anyone has seen him. Ruthlessly, he clamps down on the shivers that threaten to start, as his mind begins to run away with the idea. Quickly pushing his excitement and fear down into the blank apathy he wears whenever Vernon has that smile on his face, Harry crawls out of the cupboard into the living room.
Quietly closing the door behind him. Harry quietly goes around the house and wipes down all of the surfaces outside the bedrooms, and then cleans up the kitchen. As he's washing up, Aunt Petunia makes herself a cup of tea, before going into the living room, and switching on the TV.
As he puts the last plate away, he carefully wipes his hands and walks into the living room to wait for a suitable break in the program Aunt Petunia is watching.
As the program goes through a short transition, Harry politely asks, "Aunt Petunia, I've finished the cleaning, may I go to the library please?"
Petunia looks up at Harry, then back to the TV as the transition ends. Huffing, she says, "Go on then, be back by 5 as we're cooking for guests tonight."
Sitting on the stairs, Harry quietly puts on his worn shoes, and grabs his ratty backpack. Then he opens the front door as quietly as he can, before closing it with a soft click from the lock. As soon as the door is closed, he runs for the corner of Privet Drive, just in case Aunt Petunia decides she needs the flower beds weeded. When he can no longer see the house, he slows down to a fast but cautious walk, and takes a circuitous route to the High Street, rather than the short walk through the park.
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After walking for a couple of miles along the streets, he reaches the library. Carefully wiping his shoes on the mat, in the room between the library and the outside, Harry ensures that his shoes are clean before walking into the library.
As he walks through the door into the actual library, the librarian glares over her glasses at him, and he self-consciously pulls up the sleeve of the jacket, that's fallen down over his hands. He feels like defending himself, and saying it's not his fault that Dudley is the size of a baby whale, or that Dudley ruins the only clothes his Relatives buy him, leaving him to wear Dudley's castoffs. Instead, he ducks his head down, and sullenly walks past and to the book stacks.
After half an hour of fruitlessly searching for books on meditation, he screws up his courage, and walks up to the Librarian.
Fully expecting to be thrown out, Harry timidly asks, "Excuse me, would you be able to help me find a book please?"
The librarian turns her stern gaze towards him, and glares at him. Then, in a surprisingly kind voice, replies, "Of course, what book are you looking for?"
Harry squirms under her gaze, "Erm, I was, er, trying to find a book on meditation. I was, um, told it might help."
A smile blooms on the librarians face, and Harry relaxes as he can now see that she's not angry with him, "Sure, we don't carry much, but what we do have will be over here in the section on religions."
Harry follows the librarian through the shelves until they come to a section labelled religions – 200. There she takes a book off the top shelf and hands it to him.
As he struggles to read the title, she crouches down, and reads it out, following her finger, "Mahāyāna Buddhist Meditation: Theory and Practice. This might be a little hard for you to read, but it's about Buddhism, and talks about meditation. If you want to read it, there's a table near the counter. If you get stuck, you can ask me for help."
Harry nods, and she leads her back to the front desk and points at the table.
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Several hours later, Harry has been constantly surprised every time the librarian has come over to help him with the book, and even praised him for persevering with the book. Over the last hour, Harry has even hesitantly asked some questions on his own. Every time, he thought it would be the moment where she would kick him out. Instead, a smile bloomed on her face, and she came to help him. Even with finding out what Aether and Quiescent mean.
He's around half way through the book when he suddenly looks up at the librarian, when a persistent beeping comes from her direction. With wild eyes, he looks around for Petunia or Vernon, and tries to remember what might be cooking. When the librarian presses a button on her watch, his heartrate starts to slow, and he turns back to the book.
The librarian sits down on the other side of the table, "I'm afraid that it's 4:30 so I need to close the library."
Harry looks up with alarm, and quickly picks up his bag, and then looks at the books and the door, torn between tidying up here, and running home.
The librarian solves that problem, buy taking the card out of the front of the book, and using it as a bookmark, "I'll put this behind the front desk, and you can come back tomorrow to continue reading it."
Smiling at the librarian, Harry bobs his head, "Thank you. And thank you for putting up with me."
He has already run out of the door by the time the librarian can reply. As being late home means no dinner.
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Once he reaches the road that would take him to the park, Harry pauses. Go on the roads and be late, or go through the park to be on time, and run the risk of running into Dudley. Ultimately deciding that it's better to risk Dudley and be on time, than it is to be late, Harry heads towards the park, his head on a swivel.
When he gets to the park, he thinks he still has 10 minutes left to get home. From this entrance, he can see Dudley and his gang monopolising the swings, and chasing a couple of other kids around. That means no adults. Turning to the right, he skirts the edge of the park, and follows the fence between the park and the woods, keeping his face and hands carefully hidden.
He's just passed the point where the woods end and back gardens begin, and the fence runs behind a few houses before turning onto the street, and the exit, when he years a shout from the swings.
Not even pausing to look, Harry breaks into a sprint for the exit and, a few streets away, home. As he get onto the road, the sound of laughter and pounding streets seems as loud in his ears as his pulse. Just as he's breathing is turning laboured, and his legs are beginning to turn to jelly, he catches sight of the house. A few strides later, and sounds of pursuit die away, and Dudley shouts something like, "He's too close…"
Harry doesn't care, he simply focuses on coming to a normal walk, and getting his breathing back under control. When he reaches the front door, he pauses for a count of 10 while he regains his composure, before pulling the door key, on it's string necklace, over his head, and calmly opening the door.
Walking in, he carefully cleans his shoes off, before taking them off and placing them with the other shoes in the porch area. As he walks into the living room, he spots Aunt Petunia ironing the tablecloth.
Petunia puts the iron on the end of the ironing board, and glances up at the clock before turning to Harry. "Just in time, go and get washed up and then start peeling potatoes. We're cooking for 5 tonight. Oh, and I spoke to Vernon at lunchtime, and we decided that you needed to move, as you're getting a little big for the cupboard. So I moved all your stuff into Dudley's toy room. You'll be eating up there later, as you've got no good clothes for the guests."
Harry searches his aunt's face trying to gauge her mood, not being able to see any hint of happiness, he decides to take the sensible route, and heads up stairs to wash up.
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A few hours later, Harry puts his empty plate on the three legged desk that's wedged into a corner, to stop it from falling over. Looking around the room, he winces again when he spots the pile of old toys hastily pushed against the wall to make space for Harry to use the bed and desk. He just knows that he's going to be told to keep the pile tidy at some point in the future.
Heading to his new bed, he sits on it, leaning against the wall, and closes his eyes to think about what happened at the library.
It was nice having an adult praising him, confusing though, as not even the teachers at school did that. On top of that, the librarian said he could go back tomorrow, adults just didn't do that. On the other hand, he could see the annoyance on her face whenever he asked a question. It didn't matter how quickly she smiled afterwards, he still saw it. So maybe he should leave it a couple of days before going back. But he doesn't want to disappear, so he has to go back tomorrow.
Nearly an hour later, Uncle Vernon shouts up the stairs, "Boy, come down and do the washing up!" At the sudden, unexpected, sound, Harry jerks out of his spiralling thoughts by hitting his head against the wall. Scrambling off the bed, he hurries out the door and has taken the first few steps before he remembers his own dirty plate. Scrambling back to his room, he grabs the plate, and hurries down stairs. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, he calmly walks around the corner and into the living room, where Vernon is settling into his favourite armchair, his cheeks and nose slightly reddened, indicating that he's been drinking. Hunching his shoulders, and ducking his head, Harry tries to make himself look smaller and harmless so that he doesn't set his Uncle off.
As he walks through the door to the dining room, Dudley shoulder checks him on the way to the living room, and Harry has to scramble not to drop his plate. Once he's rescued the plate, he looks around the living room, and spots his Aunt staring at him from her spot at the dining table. Taking that as a sign he's taking too long, Harry hurries into the kitchen, and starts the washing up.
While he's drying up, a loud barking laugh from the front room makes Harry jump, and one of the clean plates jumps off the drying rack heading towards the door. Panicking, Harry leaps to catch the plate before it falls on the floor. He just about manages to get a grip on the edge of the plate before it hits something, and shatters. As he holds his breath, Vernon shouts towards the dining room, "Keep it down in there!"
As Harry puts the plate back on the rack, the sound of the TV switching on accompanies the thumping sound of Dudley going up to bed. With the sound of the TV in the background, Vernon's laughs become more predictable, and Harry is able to finish the washing up, and cleaning down of the kitchen, without any further incidents.
Once he's folded the tea towels, and hung them on the towel rail, Harry quietly makes his way through the dining room, where Aunt Petunia is still sitting, and staring at him. Through the living room, where Vernon is surrounded by empty beer cans, and laughing at the TV. And up the stairs, avoiding the creaky steps, into his new room.
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After trying to sleep for what felt like hours, Harry sits up on his new bed and tries to start the meditation he read about earlier. However, every time he tries to clear his mind, thoughts of Dudley kicking open his door and beating him up, or Vernon marching in with his belt, keep intruding and making him open his eyes again.
This becomes even harder when he hears Vernon shout, "Where's my beer woman?... Well why didn't you buy more then?" Harry tries to block out the sound of flesh meeting flesh, and Aunt Petunia's crying as Vernon takes his frustration out on the closest target. It's still better than the sounds he sometimes hears in the middle of the night when Vernon drags his Aunt up the stairs and wakes him up.
Trying to meditate again, Harry closes his eyes, and tries to block out thoughts of being sucked into the sky, or falling through the earth, or just fading away until he no longer exists. Eventually, he gives up trying to meditate, and grabs his old blanket, and wraps it around himself.
Once he's heard the heavy footsteps of Vernon walking upstairs, followed by the toilet flushing twice, Harry creeps to the door, and opens it a crack. When he sees that the light is off, he takes his blanket, and climbs down the stairs to his cupboard. There, in the familiar darkness, and his blanket for protection, he shivers in the corner until sleep finally claims him.