Raised By Peculiar Circumstances

1. Children Are Impulsive

Days were monotonous at the Dursleys. Harry viewed every day as boring. Who could blame him; it was practically the same routine every day. The only day different from the rest was Dudley's birthday, not even his own. Of course, just like any other day, he still had to do chores, undergo Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's harsh treatment towards him, but Dudely was just more whiny than usual. always complaining about something if it doesn't go his way and bragging about his endless pile of birthday presents.

As much as Harry disliked his cousin, he was still family and should be respected. Well, that's what Aunt Petunia told him the one time he retaliated on why Dudley was spoiled while Harry was not. He was also told that he should be grateful he even is allowed to live under their roof and not left to rot at an orphanage. Honestly, Harry rather preferred to be homeless than living with them any longer.

Harry was woken up early by three loud knocks on his door and the usual yell from Aunt Petunia to get ready and prepare breakfast.

"Get up Boy! You'll be helping me out to make Diddykins' birthday breakfast," she commanded as she knocked on the door one more time. "Make sure not to burn anything this time." With that, her footsteps grew faint as she entered the kitchen to prepare for breakfast.

Harry groaned as he got up from his bed if you could even call it that, to get ready for the day. He dreaded the day to come; he's certainly not physic, as far as he knew at least, but all of Dudley's birthdays were predictable. The Durselys would eat breakfast as they always did, except for Harry who would often eat the scraps left over. Though the ridiculous amount of Dudley's presents on the kitchen table would make it hard for everyone to have enough room to eat. Afterward, the Durselys would go somewhere special for Dudley's birthday, leaving him in the care of either Mrs.Figgs or one of Aunt Petunia's friends for the entirety of the day, or at least until they came back.

They didn't like leaving Harry alone in the house. Not because he was a small child that could potentially endanger himself without adult supervision. No, certainly not that; the Durselys didn't care for his safety necessarily. They just thought of him as some freak, up to no good that would mess up the very foundation of their lives if they let him.

The mouthwatering aroma of eggs and bacon soon filled the kitchen and swept throughout the house. Mrs. Dursley, accompanied by Harry, occupied the kitchen, preparing a birthday breakfast for the beloved Dudely (not by Harry that's for sure). Mrs. Dursley was more uptight than usual. She nitpicked everything Harry was doing. She assured him this was to make sure there would be no mistakes as it was for her son's birthday. Harry internally groaned and thought to himself that Dudely would eat any food placed in front of him.

Now that breakfast was finally finished and on the table, Dudley was the first to sit down and immediately devour as much as a seven-year-old could. On the other hand, Harry was the last as he was stuck cleaning up the kitchen. This meant that he was stuck with eating a leftover, burnt toast that Aunt Petunia refused to even put on the table. As he ate, he tuned out Dudley rambling on and on about his multitude of birthday gifts that took up a hefty portion of the tablespace. He snapped out of his daydream, which consisted of him riding a cotton candy horse down a road made of chocolate when his aunt said something that caught Harry's attention.

"You heard what I said Vernon, Mrs.Figgs isn't available to watch over Harry while we go to the amusement park." Aunt Petunia went back to take a bite off her toast as she awaited the response of her husband.

Harry glanced at his uncle who looked as if you told him the most horrid news. Uncle Vernon quickly recomposed himself; he stared at Dudley then at Harry before he formed an appropriate response.