Chapter Text
It was a bright, humid, and hot day in Little Whinging, Surrey. The sun was unrelenting, and the people living there were content to stay inside with the air conditioning.
However, at a house not unlike the others in the neighborhood, a little boy no older than 9 sat on his knees in the backyard, crouching over the lovely flowers that lived in the nice soil of the backyard.
Sweat trickled down the boy's neck as he worked hard to finish today’s task of weeding the garden. He was hoping to finish today's task before his aunt arrived from her daily outing, the daunting punishment he would receive for not finishing hung over his head. The poor boy kept at his exhausting task, pulling and pulling till he felt like his arms would fall off. The sun beat down on him hard, the child's skin was tan with the extra sun he got. His throat was dry, and anyone paying attention would be able to hear his ragged breathing.
Likely, this wasn’t the first time he had to perform this task for his aunt.
Some time later he walked into the unadorned house, and silently wondered if anyone cared enough to come for him if he left. Perhaps, he mused, he should just run away. No one would miss him, and he highly doubted his aunt would ever look for him- if not to put him to do some chore she wouldn’t do.
He subconsciously rubbed his knees; they were wet and raw from kneeling in the grass for as long as he had.
Aunt Petunia, an unpleasant woman, was at her weekly mimosas with the other mothers of Privet Drive. Dudley, a pitiful excuse of a cousin was out with his friends; likely he was bothering a poor soul at the local playground or something similar. For these reasons, Harry chose this moment to come inside to wash his hands and drink some tap water.
After living with the very people you wish to avoid, you learn how to become invisible.
As Harry drank his slightly cold water in his hands he amused himself with the possibility of what would happen if he did leave, probably dead before long, but he supposed it wouldn’t be much different if he stayed.
Hope was still inside the boy's heart as he thought of how much longer he’d have to live with the Dursley's. All he had to do was survive till Sixth Form, then he could finally be free. Take his A-levels and finally head off to college. He could do this.
What was important, now and till he dies, was that no matter what, he would never be cruel. If he ever had children, he would make sure that they would never feel like how he felt in the moment. Harry looked at the clock above the mantel, it was just after 12pm, best to get back to work before Petunia came back at 1.
In a few weeks, it’ll be his birthday. 10 is quite the big number for a boy so small. But, then again, maybe his wish for a new family might come to life this year.