40The Harry Potter series is not mine, I merely genderbent the main character to fit my twisted fantasies. Any recognizable Harry Potter features belong to J.K Rowling.
The Soul Eater series is not mine, I merely change some small cannon facts to fit this crazy mold of "Cousins?" And recognizable Soul Eater features belong to Atsushi Okubo. The Soul Eater facts and characters are based on the anime with some wiki additions.
Chapter 3:
If you have ever seen a movie, you would know that in every sad scene, there is rain, to make it more dramatic. Now Hariel Potter, although she had unfortunately had never see a movie and was not aware of that fact, she somehow knew that the cloudless blue sky and the bright laughing sun, did not fit the particular mood she was in. At least, not for her anyway. The Dursley's, on the other hand, seemed ecstatic and smiled with the same creepy grin as the bright daytime star. This, of course, did not stop the devils themselves from assigning her a million chores.
Vacuum the house
Prepare American food (Not like she even knew any such things. She barley knew English food!)
Make parkin
Arrange centerpieces
Clean the dining room
Wash the windows
Clean the car
Disinfect door handles, chairs, and doors
Clean the bathroom
Prepare the table for five
The chore list seemed to go on and on and Harry had a hard time believing she would get them all done, especially by her deadline of 6 pm.
Harry assumed they were having guests over, if the chore list was anything to go by. It could be friends of Dudley's, coworkers Uncle Vernon, the neighbors, friends of Aunt Petunia, the options were endless. The Dursley family hadn't been in town long enough to really make friends, by any normal standards, but as much as they'd hate to admit it, the Dursley's weren't normal.
'Nothing like my freakishness, no.' Harry thought as she cut up a watermelon in the kitchen. 'But maybe a bit silly or weird.'
She wished she could ask who was coming over, but the first rule restricted such thing. Rule One: Don't ask questions. That also restricted her from ever asking to go the library. She had to sneak away last time to ask the librarian about birthdays, but there certainly would be consequences if she did such a thing again.
"Come here, you rotten girl!" Aunt Petunia suddenly called from the living room.
Harry wiped the sharp knife she was using on a rag, cleaning it from the pink tinted juice, and set it down. She then carefully stepped of her cooking stepping stool to reach the kitchen counter, put it in it's place under the sink, and quickly ran towards the sound of her Aunt's shrill voice.
"Yeah, Aunt 'Tunia?" Harry asked, looking at the old mustard colored socks on her feet a bit, causing her over sized shirt to slide of her shoulder at the movement.
"It's Petunia, brat. And look at me." She said, spittle flying out of her thin lips. Harry paled and slowly lifted her head to meet her aunt's eyes, although, she just ended up looking at her nose. It was, after all the fifth rule. Just after the fourth of speak only when spoken to, came the Fifth: Do everything we tell you to.
"Go to your fifthly little cupboard. I'll finish in the kitchen, you incompetent cook. I'd keep you later and have Vernon punish you, but we're having company and you mustn't embarrass us." Aunt Petunia said snarled, compulsively patting out the wrinkles in her skirt.
"Okay, Aunt P-Petunia." Harry mumbled. Her Aunt narrowed her eyes.
"Excuse me?"
"Okay, Aunt Petunia!" She said louder. Harry was quite thankful for the guests, otherwise she'd get in a lot more trouble for mumbling. They hated when she mumbled nearly as much as they hated her. She'd get a right thrashing for her bad behavior and the breaking of another rule. Rule seven.
"Better. Now move along!"
Harry liked her aunt more a lot more than her uncle. She used her voice, and boy, did actions speak louder than words. The only time Aunt Petunia hit her, was with a fry pan, or with other thing, but that happened a lot less.
She made her way to her cupboard with her aunt whispering behind her, just loud enough to hear, about how she didn't even get to finishing the bathroom.
"That's it, you freak, get your bloody arse in there, would you?" Uncle Vernon said as he made his way across the house to her. Someone had to lock her door. He grabbed a section of her raven colored hair and dragged her to the cupboard.
"In you go!"
He shoved her in, and shut the door behind her, a sharp click making itself known that the door was locked.
"Ughhh." Harry moaned from inside the dark, rubbing the small section of her head where her uncle had dragged her. It only nearly felt like what happened when her hair was up in a plaits for too long.
'Guests?' She thought, pulling the string that turned on the light. It had been a Christmas present two years ago.
'Guess I was right.' A bright light filled the small cupboard. As Harry eyes adjusted, she took her round framed glasses and wiped them clean with the edge of her XXL shirt.
'Not like it was hard, though.'
Update: 8/17/16
Okay, I'm not exactly happy with this, but I'm going to be honest, I'm more worried about chapter five! Bloody mess, that is! Regardless, I know nothing about English culture, so help me out if something looks wrong. I hope you see this as an improvement. Cheers!
- iambutasimpleblee (previously WhoCanRemember)