30A Change of Plans
Harry groggily blinked open his eyes, hoping it was finally a reasonable enough time to start the day. Not that he could get up until his cupboard was unlocked anyway, but he could at least make good use of the time by playing with the small, plastic army men – pilfered from Dudley's old toy box. His cousin hadn't played with them since he'd received the present 2 years ago, for his fourth birthday.
However, Harry knew that if he were caught with the soldiers, there would be hell to pay.
Listening closely for any movement upstairs, he picked up the general and aimed his gun towards the enemy troops; wiggling the base forward to advance the army.
After about an hour – within which the enemy was completely obliterated by 'Harry's army' – thuds came from above, dislodging mites of dust from his staggered ceiling. He scrunched up his eyes to prevent anything from falling in them and moved to tuck his toys back under his flimsy mattress.
Light footsteps trotted down the stairs and he knew that he would be called upon soon to start the cleaning. His small, six year old body wasn't good for much – as his aunt continuously reminded him – but he was useful for cleaning all the small nooks and crannies she would hurt her knees and back trying to reach. He didn't like being so small, but he also didn't want to grow taller, for as soon as he could reach the stove she would have him making all of their meals; he just knew it.
He held his breath as the footsteps reached the floor and made their way around to his cupboard. Soon there would be a sharp rapping on his door, and a shrill voice telling him to 'Get up and start your chores!'
The steps reached his door… and then carried on to the kitchen, the sizzling of sausages starting up but a few minutes later. He huffed out a surprised sigh, his bright green eyes never straying from the still-locked latch. This wasn't the first time he had been left in all day, but he was usually given some warning first. If he was being punished, the Dursely's usually let him know exactly what he had done wrong. Aunt Petunia wanted only perfection in her life, and how could he be perfect if he couldn't correct his wayward behaviour?
He continued to listen as plates clacked down onto the table, and a loud 'Bang' came from the landing above, as though his 'well rounded' (very well rounded) uncle had just fallen from the bed. Harry had no idea whether or not he actually did fall off, but the sound could be heard at roughly the same time every morning.
Just then the phone rang, a loud wailing that echoed all through the house. There were two phones connected to the same line, one in his uncle's bedroom and one in the lounge. The sound cut off and Harry could hear Vernon's gruff voice start up, muffled by the carpet and flooring between him and the first floor.
At the same time, his cousin began to bawl his eyes out; no doubt upset about the early wake up call. He cried every time he was awoken by outside influences (in other words, every school day), and Harry longed for the day he would no longer have to listen to Dudley's high pitched wailing in the mornings. He had read somewhere that voice pitches lowered as one grew; perhaps that would help.
Harry laid back down and closed his eyes, imagining himself as a leader of his own army until the house quieted down once more and his burgeoning headache receded. He was just considering bringing out his toys again – to enact the story he had come up with – when a loud "HE WHAT!?" Came from the kitchen.
He glanced up nervously, hoping that he wasn't the current topic of conversation, but he couldn't discern enough of the following words to make out the subject matter. He decided to leave the playing till the evening; no point in risking his fun just to alleviate a spot of boredom.
Eventually the kitchen was vacated and his aunt – finally – came to unlock his door.
"Get up! And clean up the kitchen. We don't have much time, so put the dishes in the machine."
"Yes aunty."
He was always as polite as possible to his relatives, because there was less chance of getting told off that way. If they were annoyed, then his life was made miserable. So by doing his best to keep them happy – however hard that might be – he could be content in the absence of their temper.
Petunia followed him into the kitchen and waited until he was carefully balancing the plates on his arm before she spoke.
"We're going to Vinewood Park today."
Ah, that explained the change in routine.
"Ms Figg has broken her leg," displeasure oozed from her voice and her face scrunched up in annoyance, "so you'll be coming with us."
He almost dropped the plates in surprise. He slowly unloaded them into the dishwasher as he thought. Parks were supposed to be fun, but parks with Dudley meant possible danger. It was good Dudley's friends weren't –
The doorbell rang cheerfully as he was straightening up and Petunia's countenance immediately changed.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, "That will be Piers now."
He almost groaned; almost. Piers was Dudley's best friend at school, and together they made the most feared pair in their year. At first Harry had liked school; he enjoyed any chance to learn and he had thought he could gain a friend or two in his class. He was wrong.
Dudley had quickly cut off any positive interactions between Harry and his peers by bullying him in the playground and teasing him in class. The rest of the kids quickly caught on, and he soon became the class outcast; but he didn't mind too much. He'd never known any different, and he kept himself busy in the school library doing his best to learn everything he could, because it was something he could control. Books were fun, and it was nice knowing that he was above his classmates in their school subjects.
He swept the floor as quickly as possible – though the large broom was still rather awkward for him to use – and then headed back to his cupboard to tug on his scuffed shoes. Dudley came jumping down the stairs to meet his friend. Unlike Harry, he was a large child and was constantly growing, relative to the amount of food he shoved down his throat every day. Piers was closer to Harry's build, small and slim and perfect for chasing Harry down when he tried to run away. They never did anything major to him, and never within sight of a teacher. They only pushed him around a bit, and regurgitated the words of aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon to upset him – not that it worked, he didn't care about what they said; especially when they couldn't come up with their own insults.
While Petunia ushered the boys into the car, uncle Vernon stomped over to Harry, growling down at him in annoyance. Uncle Vernon was scary. He was gigantic and red and somewhere within a range of annoyed to downright angry whenever he talked to Harry; he was the only person Harry was truly scared of. Right now – thankfully – he only seemed rather irritated, and did not look as though he would strangle Harry at any given moment.
"Be warned boy," He did his best not to cower under uncle Vernon's unrestricted glare. "I will not tolerate any strange business from you!"
He said this often, but Harry still wasn't sure what he could do that would be classed as 'strange'. He knew they didn't like him sounding smarter than Dudley, so he tried his best not to answer anything other than a direct question or show up his cousin too badly in class. There had been a bit of an odd moment last year when Piers had snapped his favourite pencil in half; he had cried himself to sleep about it that night, and had awoken to find it as good as new in the morning. He'd kept it to himself, not wanting the pencil to be broken again. He now only used it for drawing or writing in his cupboard.
Vernon allowed him to get into the remaining back seat, sitting himself behind the driver's wheel and starting up their Vauxhall with a cheery whistle. Harry sat back and tried to enjoy the hour long ride, doing his best to keep his temper when Dudley got bored and started poking him. This lasted for a few minutes before Petunia brought out a couple of bags of sweets for Piers and his cousin to share.
They took the fifth exit from the motor way – Harry had amused himself with counting the openings, for lack of anything better to do – and drove up a tree lined hill. The country side seemed to expand as they travelled and the trees grew and grew in number until they entered a fully-fledged forest.
Harry looked out of his window, feeling happy for the first time in a while and imagining himself running freely through the wood, nothing but pines and woodland creatures to keep him company.
They pulled into the designated car park, which by now was half full, and piled out of the car. Harry made sure to stay as far away from his cousin as possible as they walked into the children's zone. There was a large play park for the kids and various woodland trails for adventurous adults. Maps were being sold alongside a small ice cream shack, and Dudley headed straight for the food.
"Mummy, buy me ice-cream!"
"Of course Diddykins, do you want any sauces? And you Piers, would you like one too?"
Piers nodded enthusiastically and the two boys were herded up to the seller. Harry trailed behind, staying far enough out of the way so as not to draw any attention from the ice-cream man, he didn't like the stuff anyway. Set up with their large 99's, they both dove into the park, quickly heading for the slide so they could play and eat at the same time.
Harry knew that he was now free, as long as he got back before they left he could go anywhere he wanted. He watched the other children play for a moment longer, wondering how much fun it would be if he had friends, before turning around and heading off up the first trail he came across. It was time to do some exploring.
Author's notes:
This is my first harry Potter Fanfiction, so please enjoy! This story was a request from mellra, so credit goes to them for the idea! Please tell me your thoughts, I realise that this chapter doesn't have much in it, but every story needs to start somewhere.