Let the Games Begin

Dealing with the Dursley's

Dumbledore forced me to come back to my 'loving' family's house, once again. A friend and a fellow student died in front of my eyes and the only thing I ask is to stay. What does he do? Send me back. Why? 'For the greater good.' The greater good is why my life is miserable and I live in an abusive house. Why I am used as a house elf. Why I am the 'Chosen One'. The greater good, that's what my life is controlled by.

Its been about seven weeks since the end of term. Uncle Veron and Aunt Petunia have been making me do everything from pressure washing the house and cleaning out the gutters to making three meals a day and gardening. Apparently, a new couple and their kids are moving into the recently empty Privet Drive two. From what I have overheard, no one in the neighborhood knows when the owners of the house will move in.

I continue to dig small holes into the front garden bed of the house so that Aunt Petunia could replace last season's flowers with Tickseed. The repeat motion of shoveling dirt is almost southing and allows me to zone out.

"Boy," my Aunt's high, shrilly voice pierces my ears, "Hurry up! You need to get in here and make chocolate chip cookies so that I can greet the neighbors."

And sure enough, I look up from the ground to see that a silver van is parked in number two. I can see two adults and a few younger kids.

"And don't forget to make my Dudlekins extra!" she quickly walks away, back into the house. I finish up with the two last holes and flowers and run into the house to start making the cookies.

After thirty minutes, the cookies are done and I put them into a glass, sealing container per Aunt Petunia's instructions. She tells me to quickly change and get ready so that I can help the new neighbors.

When I come down, Aunt Petunia drags me outside and to the front porch of number two.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

By the time all of the cookies were done, the family had all the boxes from the car at least into the garage. Hopefully, there wasn't much that was left to do or they would reject the help.

"Hello," a pretty, blonde woman answered the door.

"Hello! I'm Petunia Dursley. We live in number four and would like to offer you some cookies and help."

"Oh! Of course! Your son can go help the kids unpack upstairs."

I only stay a moment more hearing, "He's my nephew. The sad thing, hi...."

When I had gotten upstairs, I was met with two teenagers around my age randomly unpacking a mountain of boxes.

"Who are you?"

I look to see a light-haired girl with a few nicknacks in her arms.

"I live in number four. I came over to help," finishing that sentence I start to grab some towels in a box nearby.

"That's....kind," the male in the other room responded.

I didn't respond.

The male mostly keeps to himself only responding or telling his sister off. His sister, however, continued to ask questions of various levels.

Soon the need for help is gone and Aunt Petunia and I leave. Aunt Petunia had also invited the neighbors over for dinner the next day, so I will be excused from half of my 'chores'. I quickly prepare dinner and clean up the dirty plates and utensils. I am then dismissed to my room.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be better. It is my birthday after all.