Harry relaxed in his cupboard, listening to the sweet melody of the raindrops falling outside. It may not have been winter but the rain was still coming down like mad; after all, people say April showers brings May flowers. Harry sat there quietly enjoying his solitude, listening to the calming sounds coming from outside as he waited for his relatives to wake up.

Before long, he heard the telltale sounds of his aunt’s light footsteps coming down the stairs. She knocked on his door and unlatched the lock.

“Boy!” she hissed quietly. “You are to get up and begin breakfast before your uncle wakes up.” It was always boy. The Dursley’s never called him Harry. The only people who called him Harry were the faceless people in his dreams. The sense of –was it love?- caused him to figure they might be his parents. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure since he’d never actually seen a picture of them nor had he heard their names. Aunt Petunia always referred to them as freaks.

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” Harry answered dutifully as he sat up. He pulled some socks over his bare feet and clambered out of his room. He set out the usual rations of bacon, eggs, sausage and toast and got to work preparing the meal.

Before long, thunderous footsteps were heard from upstairs, signalling that his massive uncle and whale-like cousin were awake. Setting down the last plate before his relatives came in, Harry retreated to his cupboard to gather clothes for the day. There wasn’t much to choose from as all he had to wear were Dudley’s old clothes. Aunt Petunia would never buy new clothes for the good-for-nothing-freak that he was.

The boy entered the bathroom and closed the door in an attempt to ward off the sounds of his relatives pigging out at the table. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t received any food since yesterday at lunch. Apparently he did something wrong last night and his uncle locked him in his cupboard before dinner and obviously forgot to feed him. Maybe there’d actually be something left over for him this morning.

Harry quickly changed, brushed his teeth and attempted to make his hair lie flat but had no success. Aunt Petunia would surely gripe about it later, as she’d been doing for the last couple of days. He returned his dirty clothes to his cupboard before entering the kitchen to clean up. Thankfully, only his aunt was in the kitchen so he didn’t have to worry about running into his cousin or uncle just yet.

“Here.” Aunt Petunia shoved a plate with a piece of toast and the last bit of scrambled eggs in his hand. “Eat it quickly and clean this up before you go to school.”

Harry devoured the food, quickly rinsed all the dirty plates, and put them in the dishwasher before rushing to grab his backpack. It was one of Dudley’s old ones and one of the arm straps had broken off but it was still perfectly useful. Inside were his pencils and a notebook that he did all his schoolwork in. The small boy quickly pulled on his shoes and glanced at his watch, realizing he’d need to run if he wanted to make it to class on time.

As he left the house, he could hear his aunt coaxing Dudley into one of his coats. “You don’t want to get sick do you, my Dudders? Please put it on for mummy.”

Harry began jogging to school since he wasn’t allowed to receive a ride from his aunt; only her precious little Dudders gets a ride to school. He didn’t really mind walking, and in some cases jogging, to school since it was good exercise. Plus it helped his stamina and he was therefore more likely to get away from Dudley and his gang of bullies.

Before long, he made it to school and thankfully not too soaked since the rain had pretty much stopped. He entered room 112 and took his usual seat near the front of the class where all the kids wearing glasses were seated. Harry smiled wryly at the thought of how most teachers apparently thought that students with glasses can’t see very well so they need to sit up front. It never occurred to them that glasses were worn so they can see no matter where they sit.

Harry was torn from his musings as the bell sounded and the last of the students came barrelling in. Miss Williams called for attention and then proceeded to take roll.

“Today,” she began, “we will begin by taking a little math quiz. Please pull out only a pencil and an eraser.”

Shuffling was heard throughout the classroom as students complied. The teacher passed out the tests and everyone began quietly. Harry bit his lip as he quickly glanced over the sheet. Even though he knew the answer to most of it, he couldn’t attempt to do well unless he wanted to get into trouble. Dudley was rather thick and Uncle Vernon was never pleased if the boy’s marks were better. Harry sighed. This was just another typical day and he continued to do poorly as always in order to survive life with the Dursleys.

Lunch, as usual, was spent alone. None of the other kids ever talked to him unless they wanted to face the wrath of Dudley and his friends. He wished someone would just stand up to Dudley, but none of them had the guts. If he was in there position he’d… well, actually he didn’t think he was brave enough either. Harry sighed bitterly as he went back to his meagre school lunch.

The rain had stopped therefore, students were allowed to run around outside for the remainder of their lunch break. After finishing, Harry shuffled slowly towards the exit, not in a hurry to meet up with Dudley any time soon. His cousin took great pleasure in tormenting him while at school and of course at home too.

Luckily for him, Dudley was nowhere in sight when he stepped out into the chilly, breezy atmosphere. Harry wandered around for a while until he felt the need to use the loo before the break ended.

He was washing his hands after he finished business, when the door opened. Harry looked into the mirror and saw the grinning face of his cousin. He let out a quiet sigh before turning around to face Dudley.

“What do you want Dudley?” The small boy asked tiredly. The Harry Hunting game was really getting old and he was rather sick of letting his cousin bully him around. But then again, there wasn’t much he could do unless he wanted to face Uncle Vernon’s wrath.

Dudley smirked and instead of commenting, he threw a punch at Harry. Expecting the punch, Harry dodged and weaved past his cousin towards the exit. Before he could make it, he was tripped by his cousin’s friend Piers, and fell flat on his face. Both boys laughed as Harry tried to get up but slipped on the wet bathroom floor instead.

The bell sounded, causing the two bullies to head towards the door but before they left, Dudley made sure to grab his glasses and chuck them aside. Harry slowly picked himself up from the filthy floor and looked around for his glasses. He could barely see but he managed to find them just as the final bell sounded.

Harry rushed through the halls skidded to a stop in front of 112. He entered quietly but Miss Williams still noticed him.

“You’re late Harry,” she reprimanded, giving him a disappointed gaze.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” he replied, looking down at his trainers. Even at school, he couldn’t seem to do anything right. His teachers in the past had given him disapproving looks and chastised him when he didn’t turn in homework or failed a test. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do well; it was just that he wasn’t allowed to do well.

“Well you can help me clean up a little bit today after school as punishment,” Miss Williams stated as she handed him a worksheet that the rest of the class had started on.

“Yes ma’am.” That wouldn’t be too hard. He was used to cleaning in the Dursley household.

“Please pick up and put away the crayons Harry,” the teacher suggested after the other students left for home that afternoon.

Harry quietly began gathering the crayons. They had art class earlier that day and got to draw whatever they’d liked. Today he drew a picture of a fire-breathing dragon. When he got home, he’d have to make sure it was hidden from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. One time he’d had a dream about being on a flying motorcycle and drew it in his next art class. When they found the picture, Uncle Vernon had given him a sound smacking and told him motorcycles can’t fly and there’s no such thing as magic.

After a few minutes of tiding up, Miss Williams briefly glanced outside and saw Harry’s cousin getting picked up.

“I see your cousin outside, so you’d better go catch your ride,” she said.

“I don’t get a ride home,” he informed her. He never did. Little freaks like him weren’t allowed to sit in the car unless absolutely necessary. The same applies to sitting on their living room furniture. It just wasn’t allowed. “I walk home everyday.”

“Oh,” she stated, feeling perplexed. “Why don’t you get a ride with your cousin?”

“My aunt says the exercise is good for me,” Harry answered, grabbing his school bag. “I’m sorry for being late to class and I’ll try not to do it again.”

“Okay, run along. I’ll see you tomorrow in class,” Miss Williams answered. She turned to the window and watched as the little black-haired boy took off walking in the direction of his home. He didn’t have a coat on either, which caused her some concern since it was due to rain again soon. She made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow.

Harry walked briskly outside, enjoying the cloudy weather. Just before he arrived at number four, it began to rain again. He took his time walking while enjoying the rain.

Dudley hardly ever ventured outside during the rain which meant he’d escape his cousin outdoors. The rain served as a source of calm sounds along with a retreat from his miserable home. He always thought it was slightly odd how he’d spend hours outside in the rain and never get sick, even though he would become thoroughly soaked. Then again, that was probably just one of the freakish qualities about himself that the Dursleys despised.

His time outside in the rain came to an end as he reached his residence. He entered the house and made sure to leave his muddy shoes outside, else his aunt would whack him with a wooden spoon for tracking mud around her perfectly clean house.

“What took you so long boy?” Aunt Petunia demanded from the kitchen, where she was making her precious Dudley an after school snack.

Harry, looking down, replied, “I had to stay after and help Miss Williams clean up the classroom.”

“Why’d you do?” she snapped, accusation in her voice.

“I was late to class after lunch,” he informed her quietly. He studied the hole in his grey faded sock. His little toenail was even sticking out a bit.

“And now you were late to get here. You’d better get started on cleaning up Dudley’s bedroom, the upstairs and the downstairs bathrooms, along with preparing dinner. There’s a roast in the oven and I expect you to also have the mashed potatoes, gravy and a vegetable done by the time Vernon gets home.”

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” Harry replied. He placed his satchel in his cupboard and headed upstairs. Dudley’s room was always icky and the worst room to clean. Best to start there.

Vernon arrived home promptly at six o’clock that evening. Harry had rushed through the bathrooms in order to have dinner completed on time and barely managed. The potatoes were finished just as his uncle walked in. Five minutes later, after changing out of work clothes, Vernon appeared in the kitchen along with Dudley. Aunt Petunia was already seated at the table and currently in the process of cutting up Dudley’s meat. She placed all the fatty pieces on a smaller plate, along with a small spoonful of potatoes and veggies before giving it to Harry, who was standing quietly in the corner.

“Thank you Aunt Petunia,” he said as he accepted the place. He was lucky they decided to feed him tonight. Actually, he was especially lucky since he’d gotten food this morning as well.

“Go eat over there,” she ordered.

Harry obediently went off to the side and sat down in the corner. Another rule in the Dursley household was that he wasn’t allowed to eat with them and he was rarely allowed to sit on their furniture. He slowly ate his food, attempting to savour the flavour as long as possible. Naturally after they’d finished eating, he’d get stuck doing the dishes.

Harry was scrubbing the dirty pans when he heard his aunt’s shrilly voice.

“BOY! Get over here now!” she screeched. He set the pan back into the sink, dried off his hands. He hoped nothing was wrong and that he wouldn’t get punished, but by her tone, he guessed she wasn’t happy about something or another. When he found her, she was standing by the bathroom with her hands on her hips.

“Did you even clean this bathroom?” she demanded and he just nodded, not sure what was going on. She reached forward and pulled him in the bathroom and shoved his face towards the sink, which he had cleaned earlier. Dudley must have been in here because it now had some toothpaste smudged on it along with some spilt mouthwash along the countertop. His aunt pointed towards the trash, which he’d honestly forgotten to empty.

“You call this clean?” Aunt Petunia shrieked. Harry shook his head negatively and looked down to study his socks again. “What would the neighbours think if they came over and saw this bathroom in this state? Now go to your cupboard and wait for your uncle to sort you out.”

Harry did as he was told and entered his cupboard. He tried to calm his racing heart as he dreaded the upcoming punishment. He could hear her explaining to Uncle Vernon how he didn’t clean the bathroom properly. Before long, thunderous footsteps approached his door and slammed it open. His uncle grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out.

“What’s this I hear about you slacking off on your chores?” he hissed dangerously.

“I-I’m sorry,” Harry stuttered out.

“Sorry isn’t good enough!” he roared, pulling the boy close enough to his face. Harry kept his gaze down and longed to wipe the spittle off of his face.

Vernon threw his nephew to the ground and kicked him once in the side. “Now get in that bathroom and clean it up properly. After you’ve finished, remain in the bathroom. Your hair is a disgrace and Petunia’s going to cut it.”

“Y-yes Uncle Vernon,” Harry stammered out fearfully from his position on the ground. His arms were clutched around his stomach, ready to protect it if his uncle decided to kick him again. Vernon returned to his television show and Harry slowly got to his feet. That wasn’t so bad. At least his uncle had only kicked him once.

When finished cleaning, he pulled the toilet seat down and sat on it while he waited for his aunt. She came in a few minutes later carrying a shaver. She didn’t say anything to him and got right to work on removing every last bit of his hair, with one exception. The only section of hair that remained was just enough to cover his scar. Aunt Petunia hated that scar and wanted to keep it hidden as much as possible. Harry was rather fond of the neat marking, but at the moment he wasn’t.

He stood in front of the mirror, staring at his badly shaven head in horror. Dudley walked by and noticed Harry’s horror-struck face. He started laughing and then he began to ruthlessly tease his cousin. Harry ignored him and got down on his knees to begin cleaning up hair littered across the floor. School tomorrow would be a nightmare! All the kids would tease him for having that lone patch of hair. If only that scar wasn’t there, then he’d at least have a fully shaved head.

After the bathroom was once again in pristine condition, Harry crawled on his little cot in his cupboard and pulled his knees up to his chest miserably. Several tears managed to escape as he curled there in misery. For once, he wished he would get dreadfully sick or something would happen and he could avoid school until his hair grew back. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, so he’d just remain there for as long as he could. It didn’t take too long before he drifted off into a deep slumber.