Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, (J. k Rowling does alright) I simply love it so much that I felt I should put my superior writing abilities to work and maybe have some fun with the idea.
Who Said Summer Wasn't Fun?
Harry Potter was currently in the back of the Dursley's car squashed between the door and Dudley , not really listening to his uncle who was listing all the rules for the summer. It actually wasn't that bad, Mad–Eye Moody was a very intimating man (biggest understatement of the year if you ask any one of the defense students, most of all Harry) and Harry strongly suspected this is why his uncle was being so lenient about them. For example, rule 1 was "if you have to use you freakish ways, make sure you stay away from normal people" and rule 2 "You will be up and out of the house every morning before us so we don't have to see you". Sure they didn't seem to be nice laws but at least those rules he intended on following. He really didn't want to wake up and look at them either. But rule 11 was another story. "You will do all the house chores" Not bloody likely! After what happened to Sirius, well, Harry was planning on getting stronger to protect everyone he had left. And it really was his responsibility to be strong considering that HE was supposed to beat old Voldie; he needed to be the best.
Finally the car drove up to Privet drive and as the house came into view he couldn't help but think about how he could have been with Sirius now. After what happened at the Ministry, Fudge can hardly deny Sirius's innocence now "Stop it don't think about him" Harry told himself again, about the hundredth time since the Department of Mysteries. Eyes watering, he got out of the car with Uncle Vernon listing rule number 78 and quietly made his way to Dudley 's second bedroom. He really refused to call it his room as Hogwarts was really his home (despite the hard times of every year) and he would be giving Dudley the room back as soon as he could. He stood facing that dreaded door, heaved sigh in resignation and opened it to reveal the room exactly the way it was when he left, minus the school things he had in his trunk behind him.
He had kind of assumed that Dudley would take over while he was gone, a kind of pay back for having a good summer last year (so far as they knew). Then again knowing the Dursley's, it was probably contaminated because Harry had been in it. Laughing harshly for his own foolishness and their ridiculous logic, he dragged his trunk in the corner, placed a sleeping Hedwig and her cage in its usual place and flopped onto the bed. While staring moodily at the ceiling he let his mind wander (something Snape wouldn't like).
"My last chance for a family after all, wonder what I did to piss off fate this much." It was so pathetic. How could he just charge out after Sirius like that? He should have listened to Hermione. Every year something screwed happens for a try at his life, hadn't he learned yet? Sirius… Harry had to play the hero. Well really! If he didn't who would? Dumbledore; maybe when hell freezes over would that old man think to rescue his own. Thinking he could take on Voldie and save Sirius. With no consideration for his friends either. "Well that's not true" he thought to himself and to justify his reasoning added "I did try to stop them". And so these sullen thoughts ran through his head every moment, he was always fighting back the urge to just cry it all out like a girl or simply trash his room like he had Dumbledore's office. In fact he probably would have destroyed the place if all the things in it weren't his.
But at least living on Privet drive wasn't going to be all about him being a slave to everyone anymore. Course according to rule number 11 it was, he had yet to talk to them about that.
After an hour of contemplating his own stupidity, Harry went for a jog out around the neighbor hood, never going too far from privet drive for his own safety. Lupin had advised him to get in shape, because in a duel, getting tired can mean death. He didn't stop once and pushed himself, motivated by trying to absolutely kill the poor auror who was on watch. He was certain they would have strict rules about watching him, so they must have to follow him, running the whole way too. His suspicions were confirmed when he finished his exercise and headed to the house instead of going around the block again, he was almost certain he heard a gasping voice say "thank Merlin, I have got to stop smoking." Was it Mundungous then? "Wow, that man must absolutely hate being on my guard. That time with the dementors, now this!" Harry thought with a laugh. Overall he estimated that he went a good 5 kilometers. Technically 5 km wasn't something to brag about but it was only his first run. Screw that, next time he'd absolutely kill Dung (no, not shit people) "Note to self find out Dung's schedule and get the bugger into shape" Harry thought evilly with a smirk on his face to rival Malfoy's.
Upon entering the number 4 Privet drive Harry's nose was hit with the smell of spaghetti, spaghetti that he was probably supposed to make. " Oh ya, oooops. Guess now's the time to tell them I'm not doin their work then." He thought lamely. In an attempt to postpone that conversation, Harry slowly and carefully closed the door and proceeded upstairs to take a shower. Having retrieved clean clothes (albeit rather enormous hand-me-downs) he headed to the washroom for a cold shower. His hand on the door knob, he was about to enter when a heavier hand landed on his shoulder and whipped him, his back now against the said door to face Uncle Vernon. The enormous monstrosity of a man leaned in close to Harry (how could he stand Harry's smell? Well can't say uncle Vernon smells great himself you know) and yelled, spit flying "where've you been boy? You were to cook diner! You think you can just sneak out ignore your work!"
Harry, totally discussed by this awesome display of bad breath, stood straight forcing his uncle to stand back a slightly. Forcing his voice to be calm and even enough to rival Dumbledore's he replied "I don't plan on cooking your meals or cleaning your house. I'm only here for the summer and I want to make use of it." For a minute he thought he had performed accidental magic and had done the same thing he did to Marge. His uncle seemed to be swelling and the veins in his head were popping slightly and his breathing was harsh. Harry was actually a little intimidated himself now, though nowhere near as threatening as Voldemort he still made Mrs. Weasley's temper seem sweet.
Having been startled by his uncle's sheer increase in size he didn't anticipate what happened next. Uncle Vernon pulled his arm back and smashed it across Harry's face, breaking his glasses. The force of the blow had Harry facing the door again and he was altogether too shocked to turn and return the favour. He wasn't even given the chance though as he heard large thumping sounds retreating down the stairs. He had never been hit outright like that by uncle Vernon !
"That's it?" he wondered. "End of conversation?" Or was he expected to make up for the work tomorrow? Harry quickly had his shower, careful with his face. Feeling refreshed with clean hair, no matter how messy, and a sweat free body, he bend down to turn off the shower and saw red mixed with the water going down the drain. "What!" He hastily got out and examined his face. He was sure bleeding, after his minute shower a cut about an inch from his right eye was still bleeding freely. The area around his eye was a striking purple colour and was swollen, though he could see through it. It was amazing the shampoo hadn't stung at all. His glasses had probably cut him, that or his uncle had taken to wearing rings in anticipation of hitting him. Without the use of magic Harry had to use muggle first aid to fix himself.
10 minutes later Harry Potter was in his room. He had to use three blue Band-Aids to cover the cut and a lot of toilet paper and cold water to make it stop bleeding. He knew he wouldn't need stitches as it wasn't deep, but his head hurt like Buckbeak had trampled him. With his glasses broken beyond being fixed with tape (not that he had actually tried) he was now in a very, very bad mood.
He supposed he should tell the order and they would easily fix the glasses, mend his eye and scare Uncle Vernon shitless. But something inside said no; he was here to become strong and he couldn't go running to anyone for help. Praying that uncle Vernon wouldn't be too smug about the work he had done on Harry's eye he marched on downstairs to confront them. He had it planned out now. He would wait until the whole family was together then he would begin his conversation. How it would be an awful shame if one of them was turned into a piggy again and most definitely not his fault he was mistreated and scary type wizards showed up at the door. And if that didn't work, he could actually tell the order and have them fix everything, and maybe inform them that perhaps the front lawn was to green and needed to be burned, or turned purple.
Having reached the living room he glared at the Dursley family conveniently gathered together watching a movie. Uncle Vernon was the first to look up and he was apparently grading his work as he was staring at his black eye. Seemingly the man noticed his bright blue Band-Aids as he smirked then looked at his wife next to him. Effing Bastard.
Like a silent signal or pre planned course of action, it was aunt Petunia who rose and exited the room, Harry in tow. What was she doing? Pure curiosity was the only reason he didn't stomp over to the TV and bust in the screen. That or common sense. Aunt Petunia led him to the kitchen where she flat out refused to reheat the spaghetti for him, claiming he should have made it in the first place. So as Harry grumpily popped a rather large portion of the leftovers in the microwave, she (Harry nearly stopped breathing here) served tea using mugs in stead of the plastic cups Harry always got though she didn't seem too happy about it. "Suck up" he decided. They had a talk while Harry stuffed his face.
She first stated that the plastic cups were disgustingly old and had been thrown away. She grudgingly explained that there wouldn't be another "incident" where Uncle Vernon like it ever as they felt very bad about it (more than likely they were scared of an incident like their lawn being turned purple) but that Harry would have to do all the chores and all other rules his uncle Vernon had so kindly listed for him. He refused flat out and lightly threatened it would be such a shame if the freakish wizards turned up and made a mess and the neighbors started asking questions and…. Well he got cut off soon after that.
They came to an "agreement". To ensure that he was indeed being treated right and thus no visits from his fellow freaks, aunt Petunia promised that he wouldn't get hit again and that she would take him to the mall sometime. In return she wanted Harry to keep wizards out of the house and exclude his accident as she called it, from his letters. In addition he was to accentuate how great a time he is having with his caring relatives. He also had to avoid uncle Vernon , and if he must, to do his running every morning, preferably (meaning if not then you might fall down the stairs or your diner will land on the floor. Gee oops) before they got up. He agreed but only if he got contacts instead of glasses to replace the broken ones. Damn annoying things in a battle.
You know the drill. Press the button that says "Go".